#can we get infected in flights

[autistichalsin]

I hate that I have to give this PSA at all- that I do is a failure on the part of multiple governmental organizations. But it is important.

COVID damages a lot more than you think. It damages more than your lungs, and does more than give you digestive issues. And sometimes, those issues can last well after you get better, even if you're not a person you would otherwise think of as being sick with long COVID.

If you only remember these two things, please just remember that:

COVID can and does damage your heart.

COVID can and does damage your nervous system, particularly your brain.

If you have had COVID in the last 18 months, you are at a highly elevated risk of sudden cardiac death compared to someone who hasn't. In the first three weeks after getting sick, your odds of dying from a heart-related event are 81 times that of an uninfected person, and five times higher in the following 18 months. You are also at a higher risk of of developing nonfatal heart disease; 40% likelier. (Source for all claims in this paragraph)

If you develop ANY cardiac symptoms at all after getting COVID- heart palpitations, blood pressure issues, fatigue, fainting, getting out of breath easier than is normal for you- you need to see a doctor as soon as possible, and you need to tell them you've recently had COVID. You have long COVID until proven otherwise.

Similarly, your risk of neurological disorders remains heightened over a year after getting COVID; approximately 40% higher. (Source) This manifests in more ways than I have time to list, but includes a vastly higher risk of dementia of all types (doctors are particularly seeing this with the under-45 group that was previously extremely rare), memory disorders, sensory issues (like persisting loss or distortion of taste and smell), mental health issues like anxiety or depression, and even more.

These can manifest in a lot of ways. But if you experience new anxiety or depression, new behavioral issues (particularly for those under the age of 18), if you suddenly can't focus anymore or can't remember things anymore (ESPECIALLY words, COVID has been noted to cause extreme difficulty with word recall), if you have tremors, if you're tired all the time, if you have "brain fog", if you have trouble sleeping, I could go on... again. You have long COVID until proven otherwise. EVEN IF you aren't "that sick". Even if you have energy to do things and can mostly function but you just aren't doing well in school/at work anymore because you can't remember the things your teacher/professor is talking about/the new work protocols your boss went over with you.

If you hop over to the subreddits for teachers or professors, you will notice a lot of them noting their students don't remember basic things the teachers have been pressing for an entire semester, or that students can't sit long enough to focus through a movie. And sure, some of that is cell phones reducing attention span, or students just not paying attention- but they just can't seem to pick up the pieces there that they are seeing long-term sequelae (that is, a different illness arising from COVID infection) in their students. It is everywhere, but few people are connecting the dots.

Similarly, there is a huge wave of pilots being unable to pass their physicals and losing their licenses, or making mistakes due to brain fog (in some cases even leading to crashes) or falling victim to sudden cardiac death in the middle of a flight.

EVERYONE is at risk from this. No one is talking about this. I don't kn- well, actually, no, I do know exactly why, I just don't like it. People want to make COVID the new flu, but it just isn't. It is not and never will be the flu. And we are willingly inflicting cardiomyopathy and dementia and all sorts of awful things on people in the name of regaining a sense of normalcy that is gone, but ironically would be closer to returning if we had accepted for a while that things WEREN'T normal and acted accordingly. But that chance is gone now, COVID is never going away because people couldn't bother, but they still can't admit it, they can't face the consequences of their actions, so instead we're getting this attempted coverup of the real long-terms dangers of COVID that even "young and healthy" people have.

But pretending things are normal doesn't make sick people healthy. So instead, try to educate folks, because there is a very high chance you or someone you know is sick right now, due to COVID infections they had months ago, and doesn't know it because people are pretending COVID is just the flu but with tummy upset and a disrupted sense of taste/smell.

People NEED to know what the actual dangers are.

ALSO, sidenote: if you are masking, and ask your medical team to mask, and they respond by starting to suggest you are experiencing "COVID anxiety", find a new provider. Immediately. Don't even continue the appointment. They are not interested in helping you.

Signed, your friendly neighborhood epidemiologist.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Academia - Alone Together

Masterlist

Pairing: Aged up Damian Wayne x f reader

Tags: NSFW, academic setting, rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, angst, smut, fingering, penetrative, shower sex, edging, ■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

He had his work cut out for him with you, and he would start with getting you alone.

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You sat at the corner of your parents' queen size bed, helping your mother fold her clothes for her upcoming trip.

The day before, your mother was filled with excitement when she entered the kitchen, a huge grin plastered on her face. "We won a free trip to New York!"

Turns out her company had held a lottery for the workers, two two-way tickets to New York City.

"I applied on a whim." Your mother shrugged. "Who would have thought I'd actually get it." Her hopeful gaze went to your dad. "We can visit my mother!"

Your father smiled back. "That's amazing, honey. It would ne good for the two of you to see each other."

The overall happiness of the room didn't infect you, who tensed up as soon as you heard your mother announcing that your parents were going away. You swallowed nervously. "When's the flight?"

Your mother checked the tickets. "October twentieth."

Your pulse spiked. So soon. "That's in two days..." Your shoulders lowered.

"Honey, will you be alright here?" Your father reached for your hand.

No. You wanted to say. But when you saw how eager your mother was at the prospect of visiting your grandmother - who she hasn't seen in a year - the word froze in your mouth. "Yes, I'll be fine. You two enjoy your trip."

So here you were, helping your mother carry her suitcase down the stairs. Your father was dressed in his casual flight outfit, fanny pack-clad, as he loaded the trunk of his five year old Toyota sedan on your driveway.

Mama, don't go. You itched to say. What if it's not safe?

You admonished yourself for the childish and selfish thought.

Kissing and hugging your parents goodbye. You can do this, you told yourself. You can stay home alone. You've done it all your life. Why not now?

But when the door closed and the silence took over, bringing with it unease.

You busied yourself with chores. You washed the parkette floor, vacuumed the carpets, and prepared dinner for yourself, all while the tv was blaring in the background, providing some much needed noise. You sent your parents texts asking for updates every hour. You were glad they messaged you that they landed safely, and we're on their way to your grandmother's.

Come evening time, you turned on all of the lights downstairs to drown out the darkness coming in from the windows. It didn't help. The noise blended in with the silence to create a sense of uncertainty, even within the familiar walls of your childhood home. Your breathing grew quick and shallower. You went to your parents' room, closed the door behind yourself, and locked it before taking a seat on the soft carpet floor against it. You tried to calm yourself, steadying your breath. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

The doorbell rang, making you gasp.

It was him. That man. The awful human being who tied you up, gagged you, and left you drugged and hallucinating your worst fears on the floor of your research lab, with no one able to hear your muffled screams.

Until... he showed up. Robin. Your guardian angel, who tore you from those visions. Who saved and protected you. "He'll come, he'll save me, he will. He will." You convinced yourself, oblivious the heavy footsteps making their way up the second floor.

"Y/n?" Damian’s deep voice muffled through the door you were currently leaning against, making your pulse spike with relief and something else. "Y/n, it's Damian."

The relief washed over you in a smooth wave. You let out a breath and scrambled up and opened the door. You felt extacy as seeing his tall frame so close. Concern etched on his sharp features as those all-knowing green eyes studied you under black hair. Before you could think better of it, you enveloped him into your arms. His warmth was a much welcome sensation against your cold, shivering limbs. Tears threatened to roll out the corners of your eyes as you held onto him like a lifeline.

"Hey, you're okay." His hand came up to cradle your head. It was an oddly comforting gesture from him. So were the reassuring words. You wondered if he'd ever consoled anyone else, consistently repeating, "Everything's okay." Like he was right now, with you.

His voice and touch grounded you in reality, and you managed to pull your breath down to a normal rhythm. He came. He came for you. You were lucky enough to have more than one guardian angel.

"P-please stay," you wispered, not caring how desperate you sounded.

"I'm not going anywhere." His words were a promise.

You let him lead you downstairs and pour you some water. The two of you find a seat in your small kitchen. He sat across from you on the creaky wooden chair as the tea kettle boiled. The entire time, you didn't let go of his hand, so large and safe in your smaller palm. "Would you like some dinner? I made soup."

"Sit. I'll get it." He got up to open the fridge, and you mourned the loss of his touch as you sat back against your chair.

After you and Damian ate the chicken soup you prepared, he got up to put away the plates, freezing mid-step.

"What is it?" You asked.

"Where's your dishwasher?"

"We don't have one." You explained. "Here, let me wash it."

"No, no, I got it." He brought the dishes to the sink, lowering them, then turning back to you. "I'll do it later."

You let out a soft giggle. "You don't have to."

He turned to you, deadpan expression on his face. "You don't think I can wash dishes?"

You shut your lips together, then gave him a shy nod. His tongue poked the side side of his cheek as he raised a brow at you. "Watch this,"

He turned around and got to work, demonstrating to you as he squirted an excessive amount of soap onto the sponge and lathered the dishes with it. Then, he rinsed and held them in his hands, unsure of the next steps. You giggled, taking the plates off his hands and setting them down on the drying rack. "If I used thos much soap each time I washed the dishes, we'd be out of money."

You turned to see Damian huff, and a guilt tugged at your nerves. "You did well, though." You hoped the words reassured him.

"Wanna laugh?" He pursed his lips.

You nodded.

"That was my first time washing a dish."

"Yeah, I assumed." You bit your lip.

His gaze traveled to the floor, and he murmered, "Shut up." Eliciting another string of laugher from you.

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Damian stood at your doorstep, his hand reaching out for you as you talked yourself up to take it.

"I want you to come outside with me." He told you a minute ago. "Just to the end of the porch. Then we'll go back home."

You were about to protest, but he gave you a look that told you not to bother.

With the door opened, you nervously searched around the quiet dark street outside your house. The only light came from the streetlights, and the sounds were rustling of leaves. Other than that, the evening was peaceful. Calm. You swallowed nervously, your hand coming to wrap around his.

"There we go," he reassured, stepping backward onto the porch, pulling you with him. Your breath seized as you jerked your hand back, not meaning to.

You met his gaze. He didn't look disappointed or even upset. In fact, he was simply standing there, holding his hand out to you like he was your boyfriend, picking you up for prom.

"Sorry," you blurted. "I didn't mean to–"

"I know. Let's try that again." He said quietly. "I'm right here."

You nodded. "You're right here."

"Exactly. Walk to me." He instructed gently. "I want to hold you."

Those words had you blushing as you nodded once more. "Okay, okay,"

You took a shakey step and had one foot out of the house. Your breath came fast, but you clenched your muscle, forcing yourself not to go back down. "Damian?" you called out to him.

"Right here, sweetheart." He answered. "You're doing very well."

"How much more?" Your voice shook as you asked.

"Just down those two steps." He spoke calmly. "I'm so proud of you. You're almost there."

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He was proud of you!

The thought had your heart speeding out of happiness, not fear this time, and you dared another step down.

You had sweated profusely and were shivering at the same time. Damian suggested a hot shower would help you calm down.

"Will you stay outside in my room? Please?" You stammered.

He kissed the top of your head and nodded.

After five difficult minutes of sitting on your bed, arms crossed, and leg bouncing in a state, he would describe anything but "calm." Damian got up and opened your shower door.

Damian made his way into the shower, the steam filling his senses as he found you, pouring soap into your hands. He discarded his shirt first. You noticed him, your eyes roaming down his bare upper half. Ridges of muscle never seemed to end, and you blushed again at the thoughts he inspired in you. You didn't say anything, so he lowered his jeans and briefs, slowly stepping into the hot stream with you. He placed a gentle hand on your hip, turning you to face the wall away from him. Pouring some soap into his hands, he began lathering your skin, starting with your back, then making his way around to your chest. Your breath hitched when his hands took your breasts, soap covered thumbs gently gliding over your hardening nipples, making you shudder.

He spent a couple minutes teasing you there. Fingers flicking, pinching, and tickling your nipples. Your back arching against him, hands coming up to press your hands against the wall. "Ah, ah,"

At last, his palm slid down from your breast to cup your core. The sensation had you rolling your head back as you released a breathy moan. "Damian, please, please,"

He breathed heavily against your ear. "What?"

"Please..." You keen searching for the correct words. "... distract me? Make me forget..."

Seeing you like this - so pliable, so desperate - completely conflicted with his original plan coming here. He showed up with a series of excersize in mind to reintroduce you to the idea of safety - of a normal life again, free of fear and paranoia. But of course, he'd gotten carried away the moment he saw you.

Maybe... that's what you - both of you - needed at this moment. He'd been just as eager to get his hands on you as you were at the prospect of being held by him. You wanted a distraction? No problem.

Slowly, his fingers slid down to your core and spread your folds, baring you open, and lining himself up against you before at last, thrusting into you. You welcomed the wonderful stretch with an enthusiastic embrace - your hand coming to hold the nape of his neck behind you. "Mhnn, yes, yes,"

Then, just as you were reaching your climax, all of a sudden, he stopped moving his hand, and his hardness stopped from driving back into you.

You whined at the hugh you were just cut off from. "Damian?" You murmered weakly. "Why'd you stop?"

"You said you wanted a distraction." His response came as if it was obvious. "I plan on making it count."

You shuddered as his breath carresed your shoulder, making your hair rise even in the steaming water. "Oh, please," you moaned. "Please, Dami -"

"Fuck," he groaned at the nickname. His dark arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace, as he moaned, low and dangerous in your ear. He began slowly pushing back into you. "Fuck, I've missed you,"

"Me too." You admitted. "Please, don't stop."

He huffed darkly against your ear. "Say you missed me again, perfect girl. Say it."

"I've missed you."

"Call me 'Dami' again." His fingers were back on your clit and his thrusts picked up again. "Tell me you need me."

"Hnnh, yes, I need you, Dami," you complied, your voices breaking into gasps matching the rhythm of his hips. "So much!"

"Say you'll never leave me again,"

"..."

"... y/n..." His tone was a warning.

"But..." Your voice caught in your throat. You were also caught between unbearable pleasure and your own inner conflict. Your voice broke when you argued, "But that's not fair."

His hand rose to wrap around your throat, though he didnt apply any pressure. "What's not fair?"

"Y- youre the one who didn't want a relationship with me." You stammered.

He pressed his thumb on a vein on your neck, just under your jaw that made your vision go white for a moment. Your head felt light, your thoughts swam and the continued stimulation from his fingers on your clit became much more sensitive as you bucked your hips against him.

"Well, now I do." He declared.

"Well... thats..." You felt your anger rise along with the heartbeat in your chest. It was a feat, balancing lust, anger, and confusion all at once, but you managed somehow. You were very proud of that accomplishment. You weren't proud of the words you used to carry your point across though. "That's dumb, Damian! You're dumb."

Yes. That'll show him, you thought. Especially when all that came from him was silence, shortly followed by a snort of laughter in your ear. His body shook against you. His fingers pausing their ministration on your clit, depriving you of yet. Another. Orgasm. The climax subsided as you clenched around him uselessly. The action had you grumbling in frustration. Here he was, laughing at you while he had you at his mercy. So... cruel!

And you... you little weakling, let him. Let him exercise power of you. Because damn it, it felt good. It's what you needed. All this time without him was wrong. God, he knew exactly how to play you.

So much for feminism. You clutched your hands into fists against the shower wall as a thought occurred. "The water bill is gonna be insane," you complained.

His laughter died down. "If you're thinking about the water bill while we're having sex -"

"Not everyone's rich!" You snapped at him over your shoulder.

Damian could barely contain himself. You were so fucking cute when you were angry. Looking up at him with those glassy eyes that tried too hard to narrow at him. Your pink lips were pouting, too. Inviting all kinds of bad intentions. He loved seeing your resolve crumble.

"Yeah," He gripped your thigh, his tone taunting. "Isn't it great?" He ground out. "You plebs work twenty-four-seven and get nothing, and I get whatever I want."

His fingers returned to your clit, now making rough little circles in excelerating speed. "Speaking of which..."

You weren't propared for the intense wave of pleasure. Your hands didn't know what to hold onto.

"I wanna see you come for me." He wispered against your ear.

"Ask nicely then!" You managed, determined not to indulge him until you got one win. Which was ironic, considering you were edged for the last thirty minutes, and you really, really could use an orgasm.

He let out a chuckle before biting your shoulder. "I wanna see you come for me. Now." The last words were spoken with fake sweetness as he began to thrust into you again. Roughly.

You tried to respond, but words didn't come to you. He'd done what you asked of him - made you forget. The only thing on your mind was his name: "Damian, Damian," which you panted over and over again.

"Gonna sleep so well tonight, baby." He cooed. "Gonna fuck you till you pass out."

You nodded eagerly, feeling that familiar warm feeling start in your core again. "Uh huh, yeah, yeah-"

The long anticipated orgasm had finally reached. You moaned and writhed through it for minutes, as Damian panted and moaned against you, letting the pleasure connect you as a whole.

You fought and lost to your exhation. Slumping against his hard body. You felt yourself be washed with gentle and careful hands, then wrapped in a towel and carried to your twin bed. You felt a silk material brushing against your skin, and guessed Damian must have found the nighty you left for yourself to wear after your shower.

As you were slipping in and out of awareness, your hand rose to hold him, weakly pulling him to you.

Damian dried himself and lay down behind you, wrapping you in his warm arms and turning you towards him. You were petite and fragile in his arms, so innocent and sweet. His brilliant, perfect girl.

As he watched your chest rise and fall with each calm breath you took in your sleep, Damian vowed three things: 1. He wouldn't let anyone else have a view of you like this. 2. He would bring you back to doing what you loved. And 3. He would never let anyone compromise your safety again.

[bullet-prooflove]

El Paso: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19 @angelofthetrenchcoat

Companion piece to:

Box Breathing - Eddie's been struggling since Christopher left.

Always - You make a promise to Eddie.

Real - Eddie tells you he wants something real.

A Future With You - Eddie makes a realisation during a one on one game of basketball.

Cash - Eddie discovers your secret Instagram profile.

Snake - You receieve a surprise gift from your ex at Halloween.

Midnight - Eddie makes you a promise.

Cherry Lipstick - Eddie gets better insight into you during a social event.

Lifetime (NSFW) - One night with you makes Eddie realise he wants a life time.

It’s the next morning that Eddie finds his phone, it’s in the pocket of his jeans, the one’s he left somewhere between the bedroom and the hallway. He frowns as he checks the screen, finding three missed calls from Christopher and a dozen more from his mom. He sits down at the kitchen table as he listens to the messages, his heart rate increasing with each one, until it feels like that vital organ is about to erupt out of his chest.

Christopher has contracted a respiratory infection, it’s common in kids with Cerebral Palsy. It hits them a lot harder too which is why his son was called him. He was terrified in the bathroom, coughing up blood and Eddie wasn’t there, he wasn’t fucking there because he was too wrapped up in you.

It goes from bad to worse as the messages go on because the oxygen isn’t working and they’re talking about putting him on a ventilator to assist his breathing.

“I gotta go.” He tells you as you linger in the doorway, your fingertips playing with the hem of the t-shirt you borrowed from him. “Christopher needs me.”

You get it, he knows you do. It’s why you book him onto the first flight out to El Paso while he’s packing his bag, why you drive him to the airport because his hands won’t stop shaking. He doesn’t say goodbye, he has to run for the gate because his plane is about to board and he needs to be on that flight.

It’s later that evening he Facetimes you. His eyes are red rimmed, his skin is blotchy, you can tell he’s been crying from the moisture that still clings to those dark lashes of his.

“They had to put him on a ventilator.” He tells you as he wipes the fresh tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “They’re hoping it helps him clear his lungs… Fuck he was so scared Selina, he was terrified he won’t wake up.”

You know that that’s Eddie’s biggest fear too, that Christopher suddenly disappears from his life the same way that Shannon did. That he’s lost all this time by being apart from his son, time he can’t get back.

“I need to stay here.” He tells you, rubbing his palm across his mouth. “As long as he’s here in El Paso, that’s where I need to be.”

You understand then, the real reason he’s calling. Eddie, he’s not coming back to LA. He’s making a choice, the one he probably should have made months ago.  

“I didn’t want this.” He says, his voice breaking as he swallows hard against the emotion in his chest. “You were always meant to be more than just a night. We were supposed to…”

He trails off then but you recognise the sentiment. You were supposed to be forever you and him, and now you’re nothing.

“You and me.” You say softly as you lean forward, your elbows coming to rest upon the table. “We’re just a case of bad timing. Some people, they’re just not meant to be no matter how much they may want it.”

You feel that viscerally in this moment, like your heart is being fed into a woodchipper, the remnants of your hope destroyed with every grind of the gearbox.

“I did want it Selina.” He says, rubbing his hands over his exhausted features as he looks at you through the screen. “You have no idea just how badly I wanted it.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[wyattjohnston]

turbulent - nico hischier

summary: a bumpy flight forces two people closer together.

word count: 2,790

note: this is for @dunnerlars as part of the summer fic exchange 2k24. i really hope you like it ash <3 thanks to @offside-the-lines for putting up with me going through the five stages of grief whilst trying to pull this together!

There was an element of strangeness to working on an NHL charter flight; most perplexing, even still, to Bonnie was the sudden way they all stripped out of their suits the second the seatbelt sign was turned off. She understood that sitting in a suit for six hours wasn’t comfortable, and also understood that the toilets were not big enough for giant men to reasonably change—she chose to spend time in the galley while they were doing it, because it was impossible not to stare inappropriately if she was walking the aisles.

“I thought you were joking,” Alice said, returning to the galley wide eyed and keeping the curtain closed with a hard fist against the cabin wall.

Bonnie hummed without turning around. “Everyone does.”

Short of holding her coworkers hostage in the galley, there wasn’t much Bonnie could do beyond warning them about what they’d see if they wandered the plane before she told them to. So, without fail, they all got caught in the aisles as some twenty odd men stood in unison and started to remove their pants.

“I know athletes have no shame in locker rooms,” Alice whispered aggressively, still with a firm grip on the curtain, “but this is a plane. There are people out there! Journalists!”

“This happens every flight,” Bonnie stressed. “Everyone is used to it. Some of the journalists might even be changing, too.”

Alice’s eyes widened, so big that Bonnie had a mild concern that they would come out of her head, and they only returned to normal when the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

“Hello everyone, sorry to interrupt your flight so early on, we have just been made aware of some unexpected weather on route to Los Angeles. We’ll do our best to make any necessary deviations to avoid patches of turbulence without adding too much extra time to the flight. For your own safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened and only move around the cabin if necessary. Thank you.”

Bonnie sighed, her chin dropping to her chest, at the thought of yet another turbulent flight. Alice groaned. It had been an uncommonly turbulent couple of weeks across both of their flights, even in completely different areas and directions—it was the first thing they’d spoken about when they met before getting on the plane.

“I can’t unsee any of that,” Alice said, finally letting go of the curtain.

“I mean, yeah, but there are worse things to have burnt into your brain.”

Alice readily agreed, even took a moment to subtly peak back into the cabin.

Bonnie still vividly remembered the first time she’d witnessed it. She would never forget the eye contact she’d made with the team’s captain before her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m just here to see Bonnie.”

Said chest and said tattoo blazed in Bonnie’s mind, and then she made eye contact with the team’s captain and sighed softly.

“Hi, Nico,” she greeted. “My captain said you were meant to remain seated with your seatbelt on.”

He smiled knowingly, “Good luck with that.”

Alice disappeared back into the cabin when someone pressed the call button and Nico moved out of her way with a practiced ease, even as Bonnie began to organise the food trolley for the first pass through.

“I just wanted to come check on you; you weren’t on the last few flights.”

“Just a sinus infection,” she said, as if it hadn’t written her off for a week and a half. “Didn’t want my eardrums to explode, you know?”

“You’re okay?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her forearm. Concern radiated off him.

Bonnie covered his hand with her own, smiling softly and saying reassuringly, “I’m all better.”

Nico stayed while Bonnie finished filling the trolley. The flights were the three after the All-Star Break, so he had plenty of stories to tell to keep her occupied. The Swiss boys had headed to Mexico, of which she was jealous. It hadn’t been too cold in Jersey, but the need for sun had been growing and growing since Christmas, and the longing had only gotten more intense after being cooped up in her own apartment.

“Have you been?” Nico asked.

“No,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head. “One of my college friends had a vacation home in Fort Lauderdale so we did Spring Br—shit.”

The trolley rattled, a few trays coming half out of their places, and Bonnie watched helplessly as the last knife and fork fell off the counter.

“What the fuck is going on today?” Nico asked, causing Bonnie's eyes to snap up. He had a hand on each of the high cabinets either side of the galley.

“You should go back to your seat,” Bonnie said, picking up the lost cutlery and dropping into what would become the dirty dishes container. “I’ll be out in a second. Put your seatbelt on.”

Nico nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Bonnie was friendly with all the players, staff and media on the flight. Most of them were familiar faces, especially halfway through the season, but anybody she didn’t know was introduced to her with a startling amount of enthusiasm from whichever player had taken it upon themselves to do so—normally it was Luke, being egged on by Nate. She always made sure they had the same energy for whoever had been assigned to work with her, whether or not they had ever met before. Alice looked delighted by the attention; Bonnie hoped it was just the energy being contagious.

If they lingered a little longer next to Nico, who politely ignored Alice’s doe eyes, and Jesper, so that they could get his round up of the All-Star Game, that was purely coincidental.

Back in the galley, Alice was poised to ask many questions. Bonnie could feel the curiosity bursting from her, it only becoming more obvious with every passing minute of silence. Every now and then Bonnie was assigned to work with someone who couldn’t quite handle it. Bonnie would never put in any complaints herself for some lowkey fangirling, but she had had a few coworkers who had been asked to never work a team’s charter flight again.

“Say whatever it is you want to say,” Bonnie said after Alice’s eagerness became too much to bear.

“Did they ask for you to be on all their flights?”

“Uh…” Bonnie hesitated, rolling the question around in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that “I don’t think so? I think it’s just easier to have someone who knows all the ins and outs. I didn’t think they could request people.”

“The Rangers do it,” Alice said casually, as she pulled out a new tray of water bottles from the fridge, “but I think that’s because she’s sleeping with one of the players.”

Bonnie was nodding, distracted by someone pressing the call button, and responded mindlessly, “Yeah, that’s pretty norm—Wait, what? I didn’t know anything about that!”

“That’s what I heard,” Alice said, looking and sounding suspiciously like Alexis Rose. “Super juicy. They wouldn’t tell me which player which was upsetting.”

“I wouldn’t want to know anyway,” Bonnie said, largely trying to convince herself because, though she would never admit aloud, she was not immune to gossip. “I couldn’t look them in the face again.”

The plane rumbled.

“Fine, I won’t tell you when I find out, but I also won’t tell anybody you’re sleeping with Nico. Promise.”

Bonnie’s neck snapped as she turned to glare at Alice. “Yeah, you better not because I’m not sleeping with Nico.”

“Oh, really? Damn.” Alice pouted. “You so could be, though. Should be.”

The thing about that was that Bonnie knew she could be. Nico had never made it explicitly clear, but nobody else on the team spent any time in the galley with her during flights. Nobody else ever got up and sought her out when they needed something.

Nobody else touched her so effortlessly, so naturally, when in her space without at all being in the way or a burden.

Nobody else ever looked at her like she was the best thing to happen in their day.

Bonnie tried her hardest to hide the small sigh that escaped her lips. She made direct eye contact with Alice as she moved the conversation along.

“How did you even find out about the Rangers thing? This is your first flight.”

Alice, either oblivious to the redirect or just so interested in the gossip that she didn’t mind, rattled on, “They brought me in for orientation and the woman they left me with is chatty.”

Bonnie knew the exact woman being referred to—in fact, she’d been subtly blacklisted from the Devils’ flights at the beginning of that season for some very inappropriate and entirely unsubtle flirting.

Alice was still talking, even as she left the galley with her tray of water bottles and crossed through the curtain, stopping mid-word to change topics and start a conversation with the person sitting directly on the other side.

A brief jolt came over the plane and Bonnie groaned. It was followed by a considerable rattle.

She was second guessing her career choice as her stomach lurched with the plane when Nico, once again, appeared in the galley. His closed-mouth smile was genuine if not a little cautious and it set Bonnie at ease.

Until she felt more turbulence and was met with Nico’s uncertain head tilt.

“You can stay, but you have to sit there,” Bonnie told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to forcibly turn him around to look at the jump seat she was pointing at. “And put your seatbelt on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When he sat down, he only broke eye contact to find the seatbelt. “What did you do while we were on break?”

The shelves were rattling around her.

“Worked other flights like I normally do when you guys are at home for a while,” Bonnie answered. “I don’t just sit at home and wait for the team to go on a road trip, you know.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t know why I thought you only flew with us.”

“Sometimes I fly with the Knicks, sometimes there’s some commercial flights. You boys are my favourites, though.”

Nico’s sweet smile turned just ever so slightly into a smirk. “I knew we would be.”

“You didn’t even know there were others,” Bonnie said, laughing.

“Yeah, but obviously.”

Bonnie’s eye roll was good natured, her laughter continuing as Nico’s smirk morphed back into its purest, most genuine form.

She kept looking back at him as she continued to work, sometimes to show she was listening and other times just to look. He was often looking back.

Their peacefulness was interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign being switched on and the plane’s captain making an announcement.

“Everybody, including cabin crew, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please make your way back to your seats immediately and put on your seatbelt; we don’t expect that to be the last patch and we apologise for our lack of notice on that one. If you need emergency assistance, please press the call button and someone will be with you as soon as it is safe.”

The inclusion of the cabin crew set Bonnie on edge, and she was halfway to demanding Nico return to his seat and hunting Alice down to drag her back when the plane shook even more violently than it had the entire life.

Bonnie’s feet momentarily left the floor. She could hear some shouting from the cabin. She could hear luggage bouncing in the nearest overhead lockers. She made eye contact with Nico—all colour was drained from his face.

“Where’s Alice?” Bonnie asked, holding desperately onto the galley counter behind her back. “She needs to be sitting down.”

Nico leant as far as he could, peeking down the aisle, before saying firmly, “She’s in my seat. Come here.”

Bonnie didn’t let go of the counter as she walked, her eyes never leaving the seat opposite Nico, and she was confident she was going to make it before the next bump. She looked back into the aisle when she could, instantly looking to Nico’s normal seat to see Alice expertly calming down some very nervous men, and relaxed knowing that she was safe.

Naturally, the plane started to tremble just a bit harder the very second she was feeling comfortable, and the oh shit had barely left her mouth before the plane dropped again. Her mind filled with all the things that could happen, where her head and the plane would meet, all the things that would inevitably fall on her if she was unable to get off the floor. And then—

“Gopf.”

She was hauled by the arm with an abrupt and unexpected force, all momentum she’d gained coming to a crashing halt when she collided with Nico’s chest and was held firmly in place by his arms wrapped around her.

“This is the worst flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Bonnie froze in Nico’s arms; no thoughts being given to the next bumpy patch and all thoughts being focused on his words and the way his arms squeezed just a little bit together.

“What?” she asked, breathless. “Nico.”

“I kind of feel like we might be about to die,” he said—it wasn’t totally clear if he was being serious or not, but he was sincere in his tone. “I don’t want that to happen without at least asking.”

She sighed wistfully, swooning closer to him in their already intimate position. Nico’s eyes dropped to Bonnie’s mouth, causing her to bite her lip and turn her head.

“I shouldn’t have asked?” Nico asked cautiously, his arms loosening around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

Bonnie shook her head, and said in a whisper, “You should have. I’m just—I’m working. I wish I wasn’t working.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Nico’s small, pleased expression, and revelled in the delight in his voice when he said, mostly to himself, “I’ll ask again when we’re off the plane.”

For her own sanity, and to remain professional whilst working, Bonnie took the slight break in turbulence as an opportunity to move to the empty jump seat on the other side of the galley. Nico’s hands lingered on her waist as she left, and his eyes burnt holes in the side of her head. She was determinedly looking down the aisle, carefully not looking at anybody sitting down.

The turbulence continued, the seatbelt sign remained on, but Bonnie and Alice were free to move around the cabin. Nico went back to his seat when Alice returned, the smile he sent Bonnie had Alice turning to her deviously.

“Are you sure you aren’t fucking him?”

“I would remember.”

Alice prattled on about maybe the sex being so good that it was affecting Bonnie’s memory, not letting up even as they prepared the cabin for landing—both of them steering clear of the cabin as the players stripped down to change back into their suits. It was amazing how much work she could get done whilst her mouth was moving a million miles a minute, seemingly every thought coming out in a stream of consciousness. It may have been about Bonnie, but it was still enough for Bonnie to tune out the exact words and just let it become background noise that distracted her from thinking about whether or not Nico was in fact going to find her once the plane had landed.

As always, the players were the first off of the plane, most of them thanking Bonnie and Alice, whilst others looked a bit too green to speak. Nico was the last of the players to disembark, slightly uncommon but not unheard of. Bonnie had to keep her eyes trained on his face because she knew if she even looked at Alice for a moment the endless talking would restart.

“I, uh, don’t actually know if I can miss the team bus from the airport,” he said, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his voice solemn. “But if I could get your number, we could meet up later? For dinner?”

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, blushing. “I’d like that a lot.”

Nico pulled out his phone for Bonnie to enter her number, and, when she was finished, she made accidental eye contact with Alice who had, to Bonnie’s dismay, started to dance in the galley.

[blingblong55]

Stay professional- 141

A/n: I have no idea what picture to use…

Based on a request:

Doctor reader who has incredibly dark humor that most times their patients/the guys think their serious --- GN!Reader, doctor!reader, platonic!relationship ---

A/N: Just the jokes ig because my head is a mess rn

The first time meeting you did scare them. "You have very little time," You told Price as you fixed his arm during the flight. His eyes widened, "what?!" Gaz, Ghost and Soap swore the injury was minor. "What?" you asked and Price swore it was the morphine messing with him. "Oh, no…you aren't dead…dead.whatever I said, I meant, with the scar…you have very little time with this scar, it'll heal fast," you reassure and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Who the hell got us this doctor?" Ghost asks the team and you shrug. "I'm not even a doctor, just an infantry soldier," you casually mention and Price nearly faints.

"Oh, I'm kidding!" you laugh. "Y'all need to have some humour," you nudge Gaz who was beside you. "Humour? Humour?! Look 'ere you little-" Ghost gets stopped by Price. "Not now, they have a needle in their hand." Your hands working fast to get Price ready for the long way back home. Now and then check on him and then glance at the others. "Weather is nice out there?" Soap and Ghost glare. Gaz stays silent. "Not a friendly team?" You look at the three men. No one said a word. "Good thing I showed up, huh," you once more try and make the flight back to baseless awkward.

---

It was months since the initial welcome they gave you and now they've gotten used to you. Well, not really but you just believe they are.

You were sent back for them on a different occasion. More men in the team as they had just come back from another long and deadly mission. You were fixing a patient when one taps on your shoulder. After some conversation, you tell them, "Take one for each day of the week," the pills sit on your palm. "But there's only three pills," the soldier said. Price sighed. "Exactly." The man's life flashed before his eyes. "I'm just kidding, these three will help until we get back," You pat his back and the man's life comes back to him.

---

Price and his men were in the infirmary when you walked in. White attire on you as you walked to a man who had been waiting for results. His file on your hand as you walk to him. Ghost listened to whatever bull shit would come out of your mouth. "So, what's the problem doctor?" the ill soldier spoke. "What's your zodiac sign?" You casually ask. "Uhm…cancer I believe." You nod, "what a coincidence no?" The man was about to tear up when you walked away and to the next patient. Ghost was beyond bewildered as he watched you leave the man.

---

Another time when the team was left with a gasp was when you had to inform a child that their parents had died in combat. The little girl didn't know where to go or who to until they tugged on her white coat. "Excuse me, doctor, can you help me?" The little girl said. You knew well who it was, and out of nervousness, you said, "I wish I could, but I'm currently helping families and you're an orphan."

Price was left with an audible gasp from his sergeants and a deep chuckle from Ghost.

---

A soldier who was known to be the barracks bunny got tested and you had to deliver the news. Once more, 141 was there for a routine checkup when they saw you walk to the person. "I have your diagnosis," you carefully said. "Well what are the results, I don't have all day." The soldier said. "Well it's a clear positive for being a slut, but you go and slay your way on their infected dicks, honey," you walk away from the patient and to them. "Gaz, you're up next, then Soap, Price and then Ghost, we need a serious talk sugar," you walk into your office.

"Seriously, the rookie?" Soap looked at his lieutenant.

---

On another mission, Chimera and 141 worked as allies, and Soap got injured. You walked to him. "Hi, how are you?" You ask as you sit beside him. "I'm fine, thank you." He says politely. "So why the fuck did they say you need medical attention?" Price rolled his eyes as Gaz chuckled when he understood the joke. "To work, doctor," Price's gravelly voice said.

---

A young recruit needed serious medical attention after a bomb exploded by him. After hours of working on his body, Price who commanded the soldier came up to you. "Is he okay? The bomb exploded by his left side-"

"He's all right.." you chuckle and then apologise. "Sorry, uhm..yeah… stabilised" ---

It was time for you to end your shift, the men after some time got used to you and just waited for you to walk with them. "Night, doc," Soap walked his way with Gaz to their rooms. "You have some dark humour, doctor," Ghost comments. You grin, "Well you know what they say," you shrug. "What do they say?" Price made the accident of asking. "Dark humour is like food-" Price walked away when you said that. "R/N, don't you dare finish that sentence," Ghost commanded but gave you a fist bump. "Good one though," he chuckles.

[the-universal-sun]

fiddleford being gentle with little stan when he first finds him after ford goes through the portal? maybe he comes to yell at ford and finds stan with a burned shoulder trying to work through being little to get his brother back? ❤️

Hey guys and the anon who requested this, I’m so sorry it’s so late, life got away from me, has been hectic, and I wanted to really put my focus into writing this request. If there are any missing “I” in a word, deeply apologies, my keyboard “i” cover broke halfway through writing this. There are some mentions of infections and medical treatment for Stan’s burn, just to warn you if any of that skeeves you out! If this seems way better than my previous work, it’s because I took about a week to write it! I really hope you enjoy this piece, and I hope the anon who requested it is still here! Please let me know if I've captured your vision!!!  

As always, I’m open for helpful advice on my writing/execution!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Ford! Stanford Pines you come out here right now! I demand we talk!” Fiddleford H. McGucket was mad. Fuming. Pissed beyond all belief. He had just remembered some snippets of the portal incident and he knows his old partner (and little) was still working on it for that devil! He needs to make that man see some sense. Thankfully, Stanford hadn’t changed his locks or the passcode to the basement, so he’s able to stop down three flights of stairs to the bottom floor of the lab to confront him.

     “Stanford! I know you can hear me! Come out here right-now?” He stops short at the sight before him. The portal is broken down, machinery and wiring everywhere, broken and sparking. That’s not what makes him stop, no, it’s the figure in front of the control center. He looks…he looks ragged, haggard, even. His hair long and greasy, his skin looks dirty and sweaty, and he looks almost exactly like Stanford. Except gruffer. It hasn’t been that long since Fiddleford has seen his old partner, has it? He can’t have changed this much in just a few months. It’s when he gets a glimpse at the hands that it clicks in his mind. That’s not Stanford. He tries to think rationally before he freaks out and starts attacking the stranger, he’s gotten arrested for that a couple times already. He looks like Stanford, just rounder and greasier and with five fingers instead of six…He vaguely remembers a discussion him and Stanford had back in college, they were celebrating finishing their first set of finals with some well earned and homemade Hooch courtesy of you-know-who when the man had started muttering and was on the verge of sobbing about a “Lee”, and when FIddleford asked who that was, all Stanford could manage to get out before passing out was “M’ Twin”. And they never spoke of that incident again, Fiddleford putting that memory on a backburner until now. 

     So this must be that Lee fella, Stanford’s twin. Something must have happened if he’s here in that state and Stanford is nowhere to be seen. Something bad. This fills him with panic instead of anger, worry for his Bookworm his friend overpowering his negative emotions towards him. He walks quickly towards Lee, his steps slowing down as he gets the full view of this man, his ears picking up his intelligible muttering. He looks more than greasy and unwashed, he looks sick. He can see gauze on his shoulder, stained with pink and a different color, one he can’t quite make out in the poor lighting of the lab, but it twists his stomach nonetheless.

     “H-hey, Lee? Um-what happ-are you okay? Is F-Ford-” Fiddleford doesn’t quite know what to say to this man, who looks both so much like Ford but so different. Who looks sick. He makes the mistake of putting his hand on the man’s shoulder, flinching back as he turns around violently with a fist raised promising a world of pain. Fiddleford shrinks into himself with a small and terrified squeal. Lee stumbles back, though, eyes glossy and distant, the defensive act just muscle memory at this point. He seems like he’s about to slide against the console and fall, soFiddleford reaches out to help steady him, thankful for all the pig wrangling and calf birthing he’s had to do in his life back on the farm, Lee is heavier than Ford was is. He gets a better look at Lee’s face and feels his own pale, blood rapidly draining and leaving him feeling cold. Whatever injury he has on his shoulder has to be inflected, the man is burning up and sweating something fierce, low and intelligible mumbles spilling from his mouth, his bangs sticking to his forehead, the slight smell of sickness wafting over him. They’re both lucky Ford was able to synthesize and stock high grade antibiotics in case they ever needed them, because he needs them, that or a hospital, and he doesn’t know anything about Ford’s twin, not even enough to explain what had happened to him. 

     Propping Lee up against the console and making sure he wouldn’t fall, he quickly managed to run to a storage room to the right, temperature controlled to keep cool. He finds the medical supplies very diminished, but most of the antibiotics were there. Both worrying and relieving him. Ford had gotten injured so much to deplete their medical supplies this much? They were essentially prepared for an apocalypse. But the relief is that Ford never needed these hospital grade antibiotics, only to be used for serious infection. He collects the medicine, bandages, and any other thing he can think of, putting them in an empty first aid bag and slinging it around his shoulder, making his way back to Lee as fast as he could manage. Fiddleford hauls him up and leans him against his side, stumbling his way to the elevator that he could never bring himself to trust. He has to now, he can’t carry this man up all the flights of stairs that lead into the house. 

     Fiddleford breathes in deeply, glancing over at Lee from the corner of his eye, releasing his breath when he sees he’d hardly even registered change in surroundings or the fact that he had moved, his eyes gazing distantly down onto the floor. Fiddleford resolutely moves him into the open elevator, propping him against the wall and quickly pressing the buttons needed to bring them back up to the main part of the house. Lee stumbles as the elevator moves, an almost frightened whimper escaping him as the elevator creaks and groans, chugging slowly along, his hands finally moving on their own to grasp onto Fiddleford in a move that puts the skinny man almost in front of him. Something deep inside him tightened at the sight; Lee looked more like a lost child than a grown man. "Stay with me, Lee," Fiddleford murmured, his voice steadier than he felt. "We’re gonna get you sorted out. Just hang in there, okay?" A low whimper escaped Lee's lips, eliciting a rush of empathy from Fiddleford. It was clear that Stanford's twin had been through an ordeal far beyond what he could comprehend. The least he could do was ensure that Lee would be safe for the time being. 

     As the elevator doors dinged open, Fiddleford slowly moved with Lee out into the dark room, just registering how cold it was-is the heating even on? Was the bill paid or was all the power just directed to that damn portal room? Fiddleford glanced around, his mind racing. “I need to get you to a bathroom and a bed,” he decided. He gently helped Lee step out of the elevator, the man leaning heavily against him. He maneuvered him toward the stairs, taking them one step at a time and going very slowly, Fiddleford may be tall but Lee was bulkier than he was, he didn’t want to risk Lee toppling over and falling down the stairs, injuring both himself further and the one currently helping him walk. They stumble their way upstairs, Fiddleford having to haul Lee up again when he started to slump too closely to the side, and towards the extra bathroom on the second floor-Fiddleford remembers this one having better lighting and not being as cramped as the downstairs bathroom. He gently deposits Lee on the toilet, worrying about his lack of response to the movements and light being turned on-at least the power still works up here-ever present. Setting the first aid bag on the coffee table, he knelt beside Lee, anxiety gnawing at him. “Okay… let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.” Fiddleford pulled back the gauze on Lee’s shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat. The shoulder was inflamed, swollen with an angry red hue, the bandaging far too stained for comfort. He can’t even tell what was burned into his shoulder from how bad it was. Lee’s eyes fluttered open slightly, revealing a hint of recognition. 

     “Wha—who…” Lee’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and he couldn’t manage to say full words. Fiddleford didn’t know how much he knew about Ford’s work, meaning he doesn’t know if Lee even knows about him, but, with how out of it he is he figures some small trickery shouldn’t be too bad, people tend to respond better to help by people they know, or well, are told they know.

     “It’s just me, Lee, your good ol’ pal, Fidds. You remember, right? We’re great friends, you n’ I.” He holds his breath as Lee just nods along, the fever and infection ravaging his body obviously making it difficult to properly think back on his words. 

     “For…” Lee trails off, his word soft and incomplete, but Fiddleford knows what he was trying to say and felt a pang of heartbreak at the mention of Stanford.

      “He’s… he’s not here right now. But I’m gonna take care of you, alright? Just focus on me.” He carefully began cleaning the wound, glancing up to gauge Lee’s reaction. Lee sniffled, biting his lip, but didn’t pull away, his eyes still hazy and glazed over. Fiddleford doesn’t think he’ll be lucid for a while now. Each moment that passed seemed to drag on, filled with Lee’s fragile breaths and the quiet sounds of their surroundings. What was supposed to be a simple act of care felt monumental. Fiddleford bandaged the injury carefully, relying on the knowledge they had accumulated over the years. “You’re gonna be alright, Lee. Just gotta get the antibiotics into ya, and you’ll start feeling better in no time.” He goes and pulls out the bottles of antibiotics, some IV fluids to help with Lee’s obvious dehydration, and the collapsible IV pole that he’d made-maybe a bit overkill for the time but it was perfect for now. He rounds Lee, finding his eyes already on him. “Heya, Lee, can I see your arm? I need ta’ give ya’ some antibiotics to help with your infection.” But the man made no movement or noise indicating he understood what Fiddleford was saying. He took his arm in gentle hands, swabbing and cleaning the inner elbow before inserting the butterfly needle-hushing Lee when he made strangled whimpering noises, seeing a glimmer of tears come to his eyes. He pats Lee’s head, unconsciously cooing to him as he leans his head into Fiddleford’s touches, a soft sigh and hum passing through his lips.

     “Let’s getcha up now, need to get you in some clothes, though m’ afraid no shirts for a little while, you need as little as possible on that burn o’ yours.” Fiddleford stood up, stumbling in surprise as Lee’s hand grasped his, standing up with him and still staring, more clarity in his eyes, but still nothing indicative of being fully present. Fiddleford took a steadying breath, trying to calm the rising tide of worry threatening to overwhelm him. As they shuffled into the small, dimly lit hallway, Lee's gaze began to clear a bit, though it still flickered with confusion and fear. Fiddleford was grateful for the flicker of awareness and desperately hoped that Lee would be able to grasp even a thread of comfort in this chaos. “C’mon, Lee. Let’s get you settled, alright?” he murmured. The soft squeeze of Lee’s hand around his reassured him that the man could understand him to an extent, enough for his body to respond, at the very least. He makes his way to an open door, peering inside to see if it was acceptable enough for Lee to sleep in. It seems that this was the room he was staying in, though, if the clothes thrown about and rustled blankets on a small bed were of any indication. Steadily, they hobble into the room, Fiddleford holding Lee’s hand and steadying him as they walk, keeping an eye on the IV to make sure it doesn’t get snagged or trip over anything. He sets Lee down on the edge of the bed, making sure he won’t fall over, before searching around the room for some soft and hopefully clean pants, only finding some faded sweats. They didn’t seem too filthy, so Fiddleford deemed them as okay for now and turned around before stopping dead center, eyes assessing the scene before him. Lee had, from somewhere, grabbed a teddy bear-one with a remarkable similarity to Stanford-and was grasping it tightly, his body hunching over to bury his face in the soft cloth. He could see the slight trembling in Lee’s shoulders as he held the toy, hiding behind its plush form. An epiphany struck Fiddleford…it’s possible that Ford and Lee were more similar than just in looks. 

     “Hey, buddy,” Fiddleford spoke softly, moving closer, careful not to startle Lee. “That’s a nice bear you’ve got there…” as he came closer, he saw a blanket strewn on the bed behind Lee, a large quilt with what looked to be some crudely sewn Teddy Bears on it. Fiddleford’s heart ached at the sight of Lee clutching the teddy bear, drawn into its warmth and softness as he huddled over it, the blanket behind him just solidifying his thoughts. The plush creature and quilt seemed to offer a sense of security amid all this chaos and confusion. He knelt beside the bed, keeping his voice soft and calm. “Hey there, Lee. Let’s get ya’ some pants, alright? Just something comfortable for now.” Lee remained silent, his gaze still fixed on the bear. Fiddleford moved quickly to the small dresser, pulling out the faded sweats he had spotted earlier. He returned to Lee, who hadn't shifted from his position, burying his face against the bear's plush fur. “Hang tight, ‘right?” Fiddleford said, moving in front of Lee. He carefully helped him remove the old, dirty pants, mindful of Lee’s discomfort. With each movement, he offered gentle reassurances, softening the air with his presence. “We’re almost done.” He knows the other man can’t understand him, not fully, but Fiddleford knows from experience that talking to a kid or someone in this mindset can help keep them calm, and calm is what Lee needs right now. 

     “How’s about we lay back down now, okay?  Rest yer’ head on that pillow and just breathe in, ‘kay? Some quiet time.” Lee absentmindedly nodded, his grip on the bear tightening momentarily before loosening again. He leaned back, still looking dazed and feverish, but more comfortable now that he was semi-clean and dressed with fluid running into him. Fiddleford decided to remain quiet for a little while, too, letting the soft sounds of the house settle around them. The air was a little chilly, but Fiddleford figured they could tackle that issue soon enough. He slowly brings his hand towards Lee’s head, watching for any signs of flinching or cowering before he lowers it and softly begins to stroke his hair, cooing softly as Lee’s eye fluttered closed, his head leaning into the hand gently caressing him, soft murmurs escaping his lips. Fiddleford, with one practiced hand, pulls the blankets over Lee, the thinner ones first, the thicker comforter that was piled on the floor, and finally, Lee’s well-loved quilt, tucking them around the gentle creature before him, keeping his IV arms out of most of the layers besides to top quilt.

     Fiddleford's heart warmed at the sight of Lee nestled under the blankets, the calming rhythm of his breathing creating a peaceful atmosphere in the room, he felt a swell of protective instinct for the man beside him. “Just like that, Lee. Nice n’ comfy n’ cozy,” he murmured softly, continuing to thread his fingers through Lee’s hair, taking care to avoid any tug on the IV line. Lee seemed to lean further into Fiddleford’s touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he began to relax into the layers of warmth wrapped around him. As Fiddleford settled into a rhythm, the gentle motion of his hand seemed to draw Lee deeper into a state of comfort-deeper into his headspace if Lee’s soft chewing of the bear’s ear before Fiddleford removed it was anything to go by. The world around them faded into the background, the cold chill of the air outside kept at bay by the cocoon of blankets. The sound of breathing filled the room—the steady rise and fall of Lee’s chest mixed with Fiddleford’s quieter, more measured breaths.

     “Y’know, I used to do this for your brother, too,” Fiddleford’s voice cut through the silence, “When he felt younger-smaller-the world feeling too big for him. I was there to help him and take care of him. I wouldn’t mind being that person for you, neither. I don’t know what happened with our Ford, but I hope you’ll tell me.” Fiddleford breathes into the silence, just staring at Lee, who’s dozing off surrounded by his teddy and warmth of the blankets. “I want to take care of you, I’ve missed takin’ care of someone, actually. N’ I have more than enough room in my heart to add another person.” Lee made a soft, indistinct noise, his eyes still closed, as if he somehow understood the intent behind Fiddleford's words. Fiddleford smiled softly, hoping that the weight of his sincerity could reach Lee’s subconscious, anchoring him in a sea of uncertainty.

     Closing his eyes for just a moment, Fiddleford let the sounds of the house mingle with Lee's breathing, the gentle cadences a soft lullaby. He found his own fatigue creeping in, but he fought it off for the sake of his friend. Lee needed someone to hold firm and steady in this chaotic world, and he was more than willing to take on that role. After some time, Fiddleford felt the room grow quieter—Lee's breathing became more even, deeper. He risked glancing at Lee's face, noticing the way his features had relaxed under the quilt, the tension that had gripped him slowly dissipating as he found solace in sleep. There was something reassuring about seeing him at peace like this, a small flicker of hope sparking in Fiddleford’s heart.

     “Just keep resting,” Fiddleford whispered, pulling gently at the edges of the blankets around Lee, tucking him in a bit more snugly. “I’ll be here.” The rest of the night was full of soft snuffles and easy sighs, this little corner-their little corner-of the world tucked away for a few hours, peace falling around them

[cursecuelebre]

Anglo Saxon Nine Herb Charm

Ancient charm that is rooted in Germanic paganism and witchcraft, it’s very helpful for those interested in herbalism, Folk magic, Germanic folk magic and paganism, or just simple herbal magic. It's said that it was taught by Woden or Odin (Norse) who is the god of healing. It’s in the form of a poem, a form of Galdor which is basically is incantation when reciting this poem you’re evoking these herbs. By how the poem is written the plants are spoken like another person or living thing with a conscious mind. It’s one of good sources of wortcunning or medicinal knowledge of herbs. The blog can be helpful for those who wishes to bond with these herbs this poem can really bring good insight.

Some points to take note in this poem, most of these herbs are to be used in a healing context against poison. The Saxons believed that diseases were caused by corruption of evil spirits, elf-shot, most commonly in form of “Worms” not worms we see today in the soil but more like dragons or serpents. “Nesso” is the Anglo Saxon term and Wyrm is High German where Worm derives from which means dragon. That to cast the “worms” out is essentially getting rid of the poison. When you find yourself reading Anglo Saxon charms with “Worm” that is what is being refer to. The number 9 is very sacred in Germanic paganism and witchcraft, also the use of christian elements is suppose to be there. In medieveal context of folk magic in general a common concept is to mix pagan deities with Christianity Woden and Christ is not uncommon in German folk magic to be seen together. The green is the herbs mentioned and after the poem I'll put what some of the herbs are in modern day in english. I should also note there is multiple translations but this version is what I'm most familiar with.

Traditionally to perform the ritual a witches would chant over the herbs and applied to the patient’s body then the witch would blow into the targets ear and mouth to get rid of the evil/harmful spirit.

Remember, mugwort, what you made known, What you arranged at the Great proclamation. You were called Una, the oldest of herbs, you have power against three and against thirty, you have power against poison and against infection, you have power against the loathsome foe roving through the land.

And you, Waybread, mother of herbs, Open from the east, mighty inside. over you chariots creaked, over you queens rode, over you brides cried out, over you bulls snorted. You withstood all of them, you dashed against them. May you likewise withstand poison and infection and the loathsome foe roving through the land.

'Stune' is the name of this herb, it grew on a stone, it stands up against poison, it dashes against poison *Nettle it is called, it attacks against poison, it drives out the hostile one, it casts out poison. This is the herb that fought against the serpent, it has power against poison, it has power against infection, it has power against the loathsome foe roving through the land. Put to flight now, attorlaðe (poison hater), the greater poisons, though you are the lesser, until he is cured of both.

Remember, Chamomile, what you made known, what you accomplished at Alorford, that never a man should lose his life from infection after Chamomile was prepared for his food.

This is the herb that is called Stinging Nettle. A seal sent it across the sea-right, a vexation to poison, a help to others. it stands against pain, it dashes against poison,

A worm came crawling, it killed nothing. For Woden took nine glory-twigs, he smote the the adder that it flew apart into nine parts. There the apple accomplished it against poison that she [the loathsome serpent] would never dwell in the house.

Chervil and fennel, two of much might, They were created by the wise Lord, holy in heaven as He hung. He set and sent them to the seven worlds, to the wretched and the fortunate, as a help to all. It stands against pain, it fights against poison, it avails against 3 and against 30, against foe´s hand and against noble scheming, against enchantment of vile creatures.

Now there nine herbs have power against nine evil spirits, against nine poisons and against nine infections: Against the red poison, against the foul poison, against the white poison, against the pale blue poison, against the yellow poison, against the green poison, against the black poison, against the blue poison, against the brown poison, against the crimson poison, against worm-blister, against water-blister, against thorn-blister, against thistle-blister, against ice-blister, against poison-blister,

If any poison comes flying from the east, or any from the north, [or any from the south,] or any from the west among the people. Christ stood over diseases of every kind.

I alone know a running stream, and the nine adders beware of it. May all the weeds spring up from their roots, the seas slip apart, all salt water, when I blow this poison from you

mucgwyrt - Mugwort

wegbrāde - Waybread - Plantain

Stune - Lamb Cress

Stiðe - Nettle

mægðe - Chamomile

wergulu - Stinging Nettle

æppel - Crab Apple

fille - Chervil

finule - Fennel

*Stiðe most likely means nettle as a type of plants that is used very broadly, whilst stinging nettle refers to the actual plant such as the leaves, stems, etc. Nettle can also mean the roots. Some translations have attorlaðe instead of Stiðe, but in my opinion it's talking about how nettle is perceived here attorlaðe means 'poison hater' link to Fumitory. Perhaps Fumitory to the Saxons was related to Nettle I'm not sure just a theory of mine. Most likely than not the fourth herb in the charm is Nettle in the board sense of the family of plants. Unless someone can give me a more insight on the translation, I be more than happy to be corrected.

I really hope this helps people and it may inspire others on the path and learning of Anglo Saxon culture and Traditions. :)

[tarotnoob]

What's happening for you in December 2024?

Randomly, doing a tarot reading. Probably should have done one before the election, huh? But actually, I went to Asia in October and that was after being extremely ill for like 2 and 1/2 weeks with an infection I'd never heard of.

Anyway, I wanted to do something fairly simple so this shouldn't necessarily be a collective reading [future me: JK I do have global predictions in here], but that tends to happen when I do these types of readings. Hopefully it will just apply to you individually and I will try to give as many specific examples of what to expect as I can.

Pick the pile or piles you feel most drawn to and scroll down. PS: apologies for typos as always. I voice to text and I'm too lazy to go back and edit.

Pile 1

Significant dates in December could be the 10th definitely, the 4th, or the 2nd. I think you can see what's happening based on the oracle cards... For December, it kind of reminds me of when you're using a navigation app and you suddenly find out that the way that it's taking you is a dead end and it has to reroute. Because I almost feel like that closed door is at the top of the escalator and then you reach the top and then you have to come right back down.

Or I also get the sense that maybe there was an opportunity or plans that end up getting canceled. It could be like a flight, it could be a party, it could be a job opportunity, it could be some type of obstacle that comes up in a relationship. I mean the literal way of looking at it if you want to go by the cards and what the circumstances could be. If you start with the ten of cups which is joyfulness and happiness or family and then it's followed by a ten of swords well it definitely feels like a period of happiness is probably coming to an end. I don't mean that in a like terrifying way. At least I don't think. I just feel like December for you if I'm honest and I want you to be prepared, you might have a lot of ups and downs. Clearly there are going to be some good times and then there are going to be some bad times and then there are going to be some more good times. And then you might be faced with a choice in which you have to figure out a different way of going about something.

Basically what I want to tell you is that for those of you who picked this pile, you might want to have a plan b for anything that you have coming up. It might even seem like everything is going to work out fine but then you get to the airport and at the last minute your flight is canceled. And it's like okay well what are you going to do now because you were trying to get home for the holidays. So are you going to get into your car and drive? Are you going to try to find another flight?

I mean if you are American, there's a good chance that you might feel a little depressed going into the next year. If you are American and not depressed knowing what I'm talking about, please unfollow.

But even after the ten of swords, we have the four of wands. So maybe it is a little bit of a tower moment that happens for you in that something that was working before is possibly coming to an end but with the four of wands, it might be that something else will come in that provides a stronger foundation. And I see you in the 2 of wands looking for that. An example would be let's say you want to quit a job. It was good for a while but it's sort of coming to an end where maybe you aren't learning anything anymore or it's getting tedious or something else is going on. And you start to think okay maybe I want to work abroad or maybe I want to do something completely different so you have this choice to make.

You might be looking for a different kind of happiness or you might even need to go on a vacation to think about things. Some of you might have had a relatively rough last few months of the year and so you need to do something fun? I sort of wonder if the four of wands represents New Year's. Not that it really matters. Plus people's New years are different

Other specifics or collective kind of readings. Again in terms of the collective, there could be some up and downs in terms of good news that happened throughout December. I do see people needing to go around to get the information that they want or to get where they need to go. It's almost like if anybody is trying to advance like in an upward trajectory whether it's career or seeking something, it looks like there will be blocked doors.

I have two cards that for me indicate family or the home. So some of you could be relocating or moving house. Some of you may be breaking up. Some of you may get not great news about a family member. But more than anything I just see annoyance at like a plan or event having to be canceled or rerouted. Like you were really excited to attend a concert or a party and at the last minute it gets canceled.

On a worldly level if we take it just a little bit dark, and you look at the word defenses and you look at this ten of swords and you have a castle and you have somebody who kind of almost looks like a general looking out at a globe, we might see some more conflict in terms of wars or discord among countries. I know that might seem obvious because it's always ongoing. Maybe serious enough to where there's some type of lockdown. Sometimes when I look at the escalator I get a bit of an ominous feeling. Like you go up the escalator but you don't really know where it's taking you. And then even when you get up there the door seems to be locked or guarded or blocked.

On a lighter note it could be about being blocked from your creativity or some type of blockage in the way of feeling happy or being happy or finding happiness. Some of you might be feeling a little depressed and you're looking for answers about how to be happy or what makes you happy or things you could do to be happy. Some of this might especially have to do with relationships or family. Because it's almost like if I was the ten of swords person and on either side of me I'm thinking and daydreaming about a fantasy life where I'm happy but in the meantime I'm pinned to the ground with like 10 swords and I just see darkness above me. And two of wands guy is also searching.

But what can I say other than December is just going to be up and down for you. You might feel guarded or you might be dealing with other people who are a bit tense and also guarded, especially if you are going home for the holidays and maybe you have negative interactions with family. But also you might have a little bit of fun with family.

We can talk about how you have two tens and 10 is the number of completion. But that just makes me think well the year is coming to an end. I do still think that an era of happiness is sort of like maybe coming to an end in some way whether it's like friendship or you're an American and you feel like dark days are coming again.

For those of you that do have to make an important decision by the end of the year, I do see you finding your answers that you need. Or being able to come to a decision.

Random but back to being collective, I do wonder if there are going to be some negative things happening toward the gay community or gay rights. That should be obvious but when you look at the little rainbow colors and the ten of cups and then you put it next to the ten of swords and then you have a card next to that that's usually indicative of marriage. You might see more states in the US voting on gay rights and gay marriage. And it could even be that the world will be watching these events as well maybe the US sort of falls apart in terms of its social and legal freedoms.

It's interesting Dad the mountains and the ten of swords are far away and then in the two of swords sorry two of wands, it's like you've moved past that moment and are now on the shore that you are longing for. So again since I misspoke, I think there's a decision to be made on maybe your perspective or attitude about how you are looking at something and then finding ways to change that perspective or to find different solutions. Just like how I was saying that you would have to reroute it might be that mentally or intellectually you have to change your perspective or else you're going to be stuck.

It definitely seems to be putting emphasis on finding what brings you Joy and not just yourself but maybe people around you or making sure that you surround yourself with people that make you feel good and happy. And if you don't have people like that then maybe the alternative is to just be by yourself if that's better.

And I do at least see a few people who are looking for love or wanting a family or wanting to start a relationship or to settle down in something like that that feels domestic and stable. But maybe it seems like it won't happen or it's far off. But again I think it comes back to perspective and okay well let's say you're only trying to find people through dating apps and that's not working well sounds like you might have to try a different way of finding people.

And the last thing I will say is that the escalator looks to me like it has stopped and the defenses card obviously also is about being stopped and the ten of swords is the most negative card here and that person is stuck. So I think if you are feeling stuck even though this is obvious advice, you're going to have to think about another way of doing something. If it's not working. Or if you aren't making any progress. And this doesn't indicate any particular choice one way or the other since it's the two of wands. That's just the part of the path where you are making a decision. So the answer right now is to find the path. And it's whatever path leads to you being unstuck.

But also in general also see some division around the world. I mean that's to be expected. Like factions being split in 2. More situations in which people are split into groups and separated and like pitted against each other or being on opposite sides of some issue. In conclusion basically I think we'll see an arise of global conflict as we enter the new year. More things on the news.

It could even be that people are forced to start paying attention more to what's happening on a global scale, watching more news, needing to be more educated about the things that are happening. Not just the US obviously but Africa, Middle East, Europe and the western part of Asia. All the bits you can see in the globe there.

There's an emphasis on water to me. This could be we might have more issues with contamination in the oceans, hurricanes, tsunamis, some issues being weird with the water or a focus on water.

The last thing I'll say is that I see an emphasis on blue and yellow in particular so maybe the confidence to speak out or say what you think or to speak as in to make decisions. Or have confidence in the way you're thinking. Confidence in the decisions that you're going to make.

There's definitely a sense of being planted firmly. So I think again maybe people having to choose sides and being firm in that.

Yeah I wonder if there's going to be some type of outbreak that happens through water. Like contaminated water or water shortages.

Or if not that then a particular country that is surrounded by water might be in the news in December. I'm feeling more like it's Europe though. Or like the Mediterranean. Like Greece or I don't know. But something curious that has to do with water around countries like that or even Spain or Portugal. I can't tell if it's good or bad I just feel very fixated on the idea of water. It doesn't feel like it has to do with weather though. But it feels weird. Like something incredible happening? In my mind I'm seeing like submarines emerging from water or maybe it's because I watched too much of this alien show and it kept talking about UFOs emerging from the water. But it's almost like this feeling of people being fascinated by this thing that's happening and then it turns out to be kind of like not good. But I don't know why I feel that way

Or maybe it's like a Titanic situation and people go on a cruise and some type of cruise ship accident happens and it's around Europe. Or like not the Olympics but like some major international event that's happening in Europe by water and something surprisingly catastrophic happens? I don't know why I feel that way. I hope that doesn't happen though. I don't think it's a why. A volcano?

An oil spill? Yeah I'm leaning more toward a situation like one of those and it maybe pollutes the air or the water. Like turns it black. And maybe it f**** up the water. An earthquake? Maybe it's like something like that happens and then for some reason you can't get resources to those people. Because like you can't fly through the air or you can't get through the water. I don't know if it's a military thing. I'm still just getting something more to do with the water but I guess even militaries could potentially like poise in the water or drop weapons and then that destroys the water or land or sky

Well that got pretty dark. But I feel so strongly that it has something to do with water or the sky and turning black and people potentially dying because of contamination or poison or toxins... sorry just keep in mind that's the collective part.

I probably should just do a separate reading on world predictions....

Pile 2

I wouldn't be surprised if some of you are drawn to both piles one and two. I kind of feel like they overlap a little bit. Hopefully I remember that there was a point when I was laying at the cards and I kept not being able to figure out which way the hanged man went.

My first impression was to say as advice for December to not consider shortcuts or cheating. Or be wary of people who are going to try to cheat you to get what they want. I almost feel like you will be at a point where you have to make a decision whether you want to do it the right way or you want to accomplish it through kind of nefarious methods. Granted that could be somebody else to be wary of. In particular they could be a Pisces or you could be a Pisces. Or maybe there is a particular planet in Pisces this December. The last pile I talked a lot about water in terms of a collective event but again I'm drawn to blues and water for this pile as well but I'm finding this more to be a theme related to emotions or even blocked creativity

I also feel like there's advice to block out people who are like that who are looking to start a fight with you. I see the two of swords as someone protecting themselves from the negative energy that's happening and the five of swords. And even with the hanged man I see like a sense of protecting your mind and your space. So I don't usually say things like this but I wonder if you should request protection from your guides or whomever or if you will be especially under protection this month. I also feel like you have a lot on your mind in terms of philosophically or creatively. But you have a lot of thoughts going on in December. It almost feels like a lot of contemplation in terms of trying to find peace? Like if your job is particularly stressful, consciously making effort to find ways to avoid that type of conflict. Like whether it's literally doing yoga or reading more or exercising

I should also say the dates of the 2nd, 5th, and 12th or 3rd could be significant.

It might be that you have a decision to make early on in the month and then there might be a little bit of conflict but by the mid part of the month I think it should be worked out relatively somewhat

I think you might be standing your ground more and having to introduce firm boundaries with people. Again I'm thinking about the defense card from pile one. You may find yourself getting into Petty arguments with people so you might need to find ways to avoid that or remove those people from your life.

To look at it less negatively per se, you might actually win out on some type of competition or project? That's not really what I'm seeing it as about but the five of swords doesn't always have to be the worst card, I mean it could be that there's a competition and you end up being the winner and you collect your reward.

But I don't really see that. I see the message as being to protect yourself from that type of energy whether it's you starting to feel angry or like you want to pick a fight or it's other people picking a fight, I'm seeing the hanged man and the two of swords are saying to relax and go with the flow and be more mindful.

It could be that some type of wisdom or information that you come across allows you to win over a certain circumstances or I guess I just feel like it's more use your best judgment or wisdom in a situation when you come across conflict. Like don't be rash to react, I'm getting you should think things through and don't rush it and really use your head the right way before you make any kinds of decisions. Especially ones that could hurt other people. But if you think it is the right decision, you should probably follow your gut

I wonder if you might have some restless dreams this month. Not nightmares exactly but fitful sleeping or when you dream come with the dreams are of like fighting with people or yeah maybe some bad dreams. Like with pile one though, there just seems to be a blockage...

And with that pile the advice was also to consider your perspective and changing it when you want to find the most amicable solution... The hanged man is about saying things from a different point of view. So I think there will be a lot of reflection on some type of conflict with friends or at a job or people in general.

It's interesting in two cards the figures are holding swords.

I suppose I should bring in the oracles. But integrity and play time was what made me think even when playing a game not cheating or not taking shortcuts. Or when engaged in a battle, not using cheap tactics to win.

This could also be an overall message of when you want to deliver a message. Like if you want to get your opinion across you can't do it by forcing it on anybody or making it seem like you are absolutely right and now I'm going to push this on you. It's almost like delivering a message in a kind and respectful way. That's not really something I can do well. Because often we have emotional reactions to situations and we go well you were wrong and I'm right. When sometimes it's about perspective. And if you really want to convince someone, that wouldn't really be the way to go about it

So I guess to be specific you might have an argument with somebody in December. And before the argument happens, I can put it in your head that before you take on that mentality that I'm right and you're wrong, to consider the other person's point of view even if they are like completely wrong by normal standards, if you really want to reach them, you're going to have to put a little bit more thought into how to communicate that. Like even if you are in a relationship now, and you have a fight with your so, and you start to think well I just want to be right I don't care, thinking about okay like how does your tone or how harsh you need to say that affect your partner

In that instance, there are ways of getting your point across that you don't have to be cruel and you don't have to make it into a competition if you really care about the person.

The hanged man makes me want to say maybe be a little bit more benevolent than you normally would. Even if the person is despicable. I think also maybe whatever is happening in Pisces in December will be affecting you creatively and in terms of your sleep again. Because with the two of swords and the hanged man I feel really drawn to that aspect of Pisces that has to do with like the sort of nether world. I don't mean like Scorpio, I mean that like 12 house stuff. So in conclusion you might be experiencing some spiritual conflict or philosophical conflicts in December related to conflicts with other people and their beliefs and you not having the same beliefs. I feel like you will have choices whether to stoop to their level or not and you should take the high road

But there are indications of somebody in the situation being Petty and cruel

I also see opportunities for creativity. This could be anything from going out with friends to try to make a candle or feeling like you want to write or paint

But mostly my advice is to for this month in particular for December is to act with a little bit more decorum and maturity than you normally would. If you're always like that then don't worry but I just feel like you get special bonus points if you act a little bit more mature than normal. Like if you go home and you fight with the siblings, you decide to be the mature one if a fight breaks out. Like leading by example is what I'm getting

You might do something at night time that is particularly fun. Like stargazing or a concert or doing something fun but it's night time. I also feel like in terms of when you will feel the most creative will be more at night time as well

Silly little things to say would be being around water will feel inspiring, listening to music, doing yoga and meditation will help a lot this month. I also feel called to tell you to consider taking vitamin c. Make sure you're getting enough sleep and as my friend would tell me drinking water. It just feels like a good time for you to detox. Emotionally and spiritually and even physically

For me in terms of colors there's an emphasis on blue and red with a little bit of green. So finding ways to feel stable, stabilizing the way that you think, which makes me think of meditation and you know maybe writing and journaling to organize your thoughts, this is what came to me just now is listening to the kind of music that stabilizes and connects your mind with your heart? Like whether you're working or exercising or doing something creative but listening to music, listen to music that fits your mood or what you're trying to accomplish. Or maybe I just need to say that music will be a great mood stabilizer for you this month

And again besides you being a Pisces, you might meet somebody this month that is a pisces or a Pisces will have a lot of influence on you this month

More than likely I see conflict with that person but still. But if you are feeling like you are spiraling in some way or stressed out, definitely turn to spiritual and creative practices as a way to stabilize and calm yourself or distract yourself. Because I do think that you might be attracting people who want to annoy you or pick little fights with you or they might be little tests to see if you'll react emotionally when everything in the cards is saying that this is a time to work on that and remain calm in those types of situations... and again really listening to your gut this month. Listen to your instincts when it comes to people or situations.

And also if there's high amounts of allergens or environmental irritants or pollution, wear a mask or don't go out. I don't know why for the first two piles I keep seeing like pollution as being a big deal whether it's the sky or water or something

There's lots of gray in the cards too which I'm not really sure what that means because none of the chakras are gray. But that color is coming in pretty strongly like a gray and silver. I don't know if that's supposed to represent smoke. Nothing really comes to mind for me when I think of gray or silver so I'm not sure how to read that....

It could also be that something significant is going to happen for you during Pisces season. I just get the distinct impression that there might be somebody who wants to or tries to take advantage of you and maybe they are a Pisces or this happens in the Pisces season so be especially vigilant and discerning between now and like March. And then to be even more specific, if you're traveling be mindful of pickpockets or making sure to lock your cars or your apartment when you leave and keeping a close watch on your valuables

I don't know, maybe watch out for people wearing yellow boots or shoes. And red tides...

Also I know you always hear this on YouTube but genuinely as I'm trying to think about why this creepy five of swords guy is looking at two of swords lady like this, you might have somebody who's kind of creepy and watching your social media. If it's an x or a weird jealous acquaintance or friend or frenemy. You might consider blocking them or turning your social media private. Because I do get the sense that for some of you, you're being watched and I feel like you need to be protected or you need to protect yourself a little bit, especially because they could be energy vampires or trying to send you negativity. So that's why I feel like you need to be especially spiritually and even physically vigilant this month. It's not like I'm saying I see impending doom

It's more I feel obligated to give out a warning to be especially vigilant toward people who would want to do you harm or cheap or like be a bully. But it reminds me of sword art online when you can put a tracer on people and keep track of what they're doing and where they are. There's just this feeling of something following you.

But on the other side of it it could also be something as simple as you being stuck on some type of fight that you had with somebody. Whether it's road rage or something somebody you know said that was kind of hurtful. But I talked a lot about negative stuff but keep in mind your Oracle cards indicate fun times and keeping your integrity and being a bit more creative this month and wanting to feel more in touch with your spiritual and creative side and finding outlets for that this month. That way you can tell the negative people to f*** off in a more spiritually progressive kind of way

Pile 3

This is the first pile to feel like it's really about the people in your life. But there are a few ways to read it. For example since we have perseverance here, it could be the expectation of receiving something from somebody. Page of pentacles indicates it's more likely to be physical or the physical manifestation of something. As in there's something that you have been wanting to give someone or I've been wanting to receive from someone for a long time and then receiving it. Of course it could also be about a communication or message regarding this as well. Something that you've been wanting to hear for a long time from somebody. The people involved could be somebody like the Queen of wands and somebody like the king of cups

So yes it could be a romantic message especially with a red rose involved. Obvious examples could be receiving an engagement ring or some type of token of affection from somebody. If the Queen of wands is giving it, it could even be something that she creates to give to the king of cups.

But I think also if the cards just represent aspects of your personality, it could be something that you yourself are creating or even saving for since we're likely talking about money or finances or again something physical. We have two of the more creative and sensitive Court cards, so it could be writing a book or making an album or whatever creating something physical that takes a bit of a creative and sensitive process. It would also be you taking the lead on it.

It also feels like there takes some time to create this and maybe even some difficulty or obstacles along the way in order to create it or establish this relationship. It could even be a romantic situation in which you have been waiting for a soulmate and you might hear from them this December or the chain of events leading to this meeting could start in December. If you already have an established relationship, something significant could happen in December or just something romantic.

Flowers in particular seem to be something happening here because I'm drawn to the sunflower on the queen and we have the rose. So it could be just somebody giving you flowers or something related to growing something. Or just something easy and romantic. It's just that this could stand in for so many things since it can be a physical object or sometimes when I read pentacles, it can be something that's been thought about for so long or talked about for so long that it becomes a physical element or a part of you. So for example like a commitment could be seen as a pentacle. So two people are talking about a relationship and taking it to the first level or the next level. So that pentacle can represent an offer of commitment.

Let's break it down to be a little bit more specific though. If we look at the order that the cards are in, it seems like the queen is offering something to the king but the king isn't looking. This could be that it's the queen that is the one who takes action first, it could be a sign that you are the Queen of wands, and if you have been waiting for a soulmate or something that the king facing away from the queen means that you haven't met this person yet. And sure you could meet them in December.

That could make sense as the queen here is known to be more bold. So I would guess that she's going to be the one that makes the first move. And just because I say she it doesn't really matter. This could be either person in this situation but they would represent those type of qualities of being more bold and outgoing. So it's almost like she is either making the first move by saying hey do you want to talk or hey I like you or she's bold in the way that she sends him a gift or some type of offering. This could be an example of how you even meet. Like let's say you go to a bar and you buy somebody a drink. In this scenario, you probably wouldn't know the king but you would be the one making the first move. There would be a conversation because pages have to do with communication.

If you aren't looking for something romantic, of course you could read this as platonic or even work related. Granted the rose in perseverance kind of throws that off but that could just be speaking about you...

At the most simple way of reading this, it could be words or some type of communication that's being exchanged by these two people. It could be a person who is quite bold and creative and confident and they decide to have a communication with somebody who is emotionally mature and a good listener. And maybe the conversation is somewhat serious and about some type of problem that you're having that requires strength or perseverance. Basically just saying maybe in December expect to have a somewhat deep and serious conversation with someone.

But what are my first impressions when I just look at the cards? Do I see it as kind of romantic? Yeah if not romantic then some type of long-standing affection or feelings. To me it feels like both an established relationship or something that will be coming. Because when I look at the perseverance I see this as either two people who have gone through a lot together and sharing some type of commitment and communication being a big factor of their relationship. And on the other hand I see the perseverance as someone who might be have been somebody who has waited a long time to have this conversation with this person or to find this person at all. Like it feels like celebrating an anniversary and exchanging gifts for that. Or talking about the relationship.

Again I see one person as being a bit more bold and extroverted and outgoing and the other person might be more calm and not necessarily quiet but probably the queen does most of the talking. Hence why it seems like she's the one approaching the king or talking to the king or giving something to the king. And maybe sometimes it seems like he's not listening but he definitely is.

Other things could just be some type of contract happening between two people. I mean this could be so many things like somebody taking out a loan, signing a lease, purchasing a house. What seems to be Central would be it's something that is investing a lot of time or has taken a fair amount of time. But whatever it is is a serious commitment. It may also involve something physical and financial. So that's why some of those things may come up as well.

Other simple things are just receiving a text, email, phone call from someone that you've known for a long time. It could be unexpected. It could be that you haven't heard from them for a while. But you do seem to have some type of communication or exchange of communication about something. Almost like getting together with an old friend and you start talking about old times. So that could be a situation you'd go home for the holidays or go on a trip or whatever and you run into somebody that you've known for a long time and you talk about the old times. But to me there's more an aspect here of two people talking or exchanging something that has taken time to cultivate or grow and having been through different challenges and struggles together maybe or the two people talking about similar challenges that they have faced. I mean this could literally just be somebody's therapy session as well. But I feel more like it's a struggle that both people have been through and have shared and them talking about it or discussing something related to it or are embarking on a situation in which commitment and finances are likely involved and also talking about those matters.

It could even be if you haven't met this person and you meet this person part of how you become closer or the things you talk about initially in the relationship or friendship have to do with challenges or struggles that you both have experienced in life and having one of those long deep conversations about it kind of like lost in translation. The movie. And again it doesn't have to be romantic if you don't want it to be, this could definitely be a good friend or somebody who becomes a good friend or a relative or even like a stranger you sit next to on the plane or train or bus and you end up having a long conversation throughout your flight or journey. But it's a nice shared moment with somebody. It feels a little bit vague so I probably should have pulled more cards to figure out who the people are but I don't think it really matters.

It can also be just somebody giving a gift to a friend who's having a hard time or for any other purpose possible. But it feels like it's the Queen of wands giving something to the king of cups, that has meaning and purpose and will be helpful toward him or acknowledges him or represents some type of affection so like giving a gift to a friend, giving a gift to a partner or a lover or someone you care about and thought goes into it and care goes into it and it seems to be a token of affection. Kind of unusual for the third pile as usually it's the second pile that has a bit of relationship vibes but this pretty clearly has to do with probably two people and any of the above types of interactions. It's not like a passionate love or romance that I'm feeling it's feeling more long-term or mature in affection. It's not a hookup.

[kauriart]

Paragon, Renegade, Pilot Chapter 4

A NSFW Mass Effect fic | Joker/Kaidan/f!Shepard | Read it on AO3

Fucking Udina can suck a bag of dicks.

All the dicks.

Reaper dicks. Udina can suck Reaper dicks.

He grounded the Normandy. How fucking dare he.

Joker had felt it when they landed on the Citadel, the locking up of the flight controls even as the ship docked. He’d shouted to Shepard and tried to back out of port, but it was already too late. The Normandy had gone dark under his fingertips. A flash of panic, and then an agonizing wave of fury, and by the time Shepard had gotten to the cockpit, Joker was already pacing and bellowing, red-faced with indignation.

There’d been a terse exchange between Shepard and the communications officer who had explained what was happening –– Udina had grounded them on the Council’s orders; they have no interest in continued pursuit of ex-Spectre Saren Arterius.

Shepard disconnects the call with as much disdain as humanly possible. “I don’t like this. No one sets foot off this ship until I say so,” she snaps her fingers. “War room. Now.”

Joker is the last to arrive. Navigator Pressly looks grim, and Kaidan is pacing around the table while Shepard sits, hands carefully folded in front of her. She looks the kind of furious that usually ends in a very high body count .

Joker slides into the chair beside her.

“Udina and the Council won’t risk us going to the Terminus Systems,” Shepard says without preamble. “They’re no longer interested in Saren, or the conduit. They don’t want a war with the Geth.”

“It would be disastrous,” Pressly reminds her. He’s a good navigator. A good executive officer. But he’s an Alliance man down to his bones. Prone to defend the chain of command, not criticize.

Kaidan’s built from the same mold, though he’s more likely to follow the ethics of a thing than the written rules. Shepard too follows her own internal sense of right and wrong, but she’s less stringent in its application than either of the other officers. The rigidity of the line she won’t cross is highly dependent on how much you’ve pissed her off.

Joker has seen her plow straight through it at high speed and leave a swath of destruction in her wake.

“Yes,” Shepard rubs her eyes with her hands, she’s only gotten a few hours of real rest since Virmire. “But the Reapers will be worse. You know they will.”

Pressly frowns. He doesn’t enjoy disagreeing with his commanding officer. “We can’t verify half of what was learned on Virmire.”

“I can,” Shepard taps her head. “I’ve seen how bad it’ll get. I’ve been seeing it for months. I don’t want a war with the Geth. I want one with the Reapers.”

Joker has heard descriptions of Shepard’s visions. Dr Chakwas said the Prothean beacon Shepard touched had implanted them, but Joker had always thought of it as an infection. Something more insidious. More invasive. 

When it first happened they’d thought Shepard would die. She was in a coma, unresponsive, and having seizures. That was a bad couple of days. Kaidan had refused to leave her side until she woke up. And when she did she started describing a nightmarish blur of visuals, sounds, sensations, and emotions. Shepard called it a tangled memory someone put in her head — too fragmented to have any real meaning. Blasts of noise, silhouettes against a skyline, pain, hopelessness, rage, desperation.

Not a nightmare. A message.

Stop the Reapers or lose everything.

“What do you want to do, Commander?” Kaidan asks. He’s made a full turn around the table and sits on the other side of Shepard.

She presses her lips together in a thin line. “You do not want to know what I want to do.”

Joker snorts. He imagines it involves guns and morally-grey choices. 

“What are our options then?” Kaidan rephrases.

“Not many,” Shepard frowns. “We need a ship to take us to the Mu Relay. The Alliance is out. So is the Council. We could try STG, we saved Major Kirahee and a handful of his men, maybe they could get us out of the system at least, maybe to the Quarians, or someone else who might be willing to risk Terminus space. If not, our slim options get slimmer. Hijack a pirate vessel, hope they can’t figure out who's flying it. Hope that that matters to the Geth. Hope that it doesn’t trigger a conflict.”

“That’s the plan?” Joker gapes. “You want to drive a clunker through the Mu Relay and into Geth-controlled space? The council’s worried about triggering a war, and they won’t let us take the only ship with a stealth drive, the only ship that can make that run without—”

“I want the Normandy, Joker,” Shepard nearly snarls. “But we don’t have it, and we don’t have any time to waste. We need another plan.” 

Joker drums his fingers on the table, thinking. “So steal it.”

Navigator Pressly makes a shocked, scoffing noise. “Steal what? The Normandy?”

“I can do it. I’ve done it before,” Joker mutters. "It’s not as hard as it looks. It should be a lot harder, but it's not. They do get real mad at you though. Fair warning.”

Pressly’s face is undergoing an interesting set of color changes, oscillating between red and white. “Your plan is to steal the most advanced warship ever designed from the largest starport in the System’s Alliance?”

“Uh-huh,” Joker says.

Kaidan leans forward. He looks less freaked out than Navigator Pressly, but none of this can sit well with him either. “How?” 

Joker drums his fingers on the table again, a quick little beat that mimics some of the feeds he observes during takeoff. “Break into the embassy and hack Udina’s personal terminal. He’s the one who grounded us. He can unground us. You know, non-consensually.”

“Madness,” Navigator Pressly gapes. “Lunacy. We should try to convince Ambassador Udina to reverse his orders. The Council will—”

“No time,” Shepard interrupts. She stands and flips a comm switch on the wall. “Attention Normandy crew,” her voice is perfectly steady, caring across speakers, ship-wide. “We’re stealing our ship back and going off to start a war. We’ll be doing so in direct violation of council orders. Anyone who stays faces court martial and possibly execution. Anyone who disapproves of this course of action has five minutes to leave my ship, with my full blessing.” A pause. “You don’t have to martyr yourself for me.” She flips the comm off again.

The war room falls into silence.

“Well, it sounds way worse when you put it that way,” Joker mutters and settles more firmly in his chair. “But I’m not letting anybody kidnap my baby without me. They’ll mess up the settings on my chair.”

Shepard looks around, but no one in the war room moves an inch.

Navigator Pressly heaves a sigh and rubs at his temples with both hands. “And I was only three months shy of making pension. What a waste.”

“Joker,” Shepard says, the smile on her face going from soft to sharp in a heartbeat. “Let’s go steal your ship back.”

***

Twenty minutes later the Normandy takes off with the entirety of its crew intact. No one leaves, not even Navigator Pressly, though he looks a little sour and bewildered. Through it all he’s managed to maintain his belief that the Council has their best interests at heart, even if his ultimate loyalty is to Shepard.

(Joker’s managed to maintain his belief that the Council sucks.)

(It’s good neither he nor Pressly have let recent events change them.)

Joker flips Udina the bird as he pulls out of the Citadel. Cathartic, but not super effective through the Normandy’s hull and a few miles of spaceport. He activates the stealth drive as soon as he’s able, and despite the fact that there is no active sign of pursuit he doesn’t start to unwind until they’re able to jump to FTL.

Never gonna dock at the Citadel again.

Fool me twice, assholes.

He flies the Normandy further and further away from the nexus of council-controlled space. He has to manually plot the course to the Mu Relay, which is wild. No other relay has that requirement. He’s been pretty deep in the Terminus Systems before, but ships don’t usually fly into dark space on purpose. 

“Commander, we’re approaching the relay coordinates now,” Joker pings Shepard on her comm.

The cockpit slides open a few minutes later. Shepard –– already in full armor –– doesn’t slide into the copilot’s chair like she usually does, but stands at Joker’s shoulder, peering out the viewport as the shutters peel back. In FTL there’s nothing to see, just a blur of blue-black, stars churning by so quickly they don’t even register to the human eye. But now that Joker’s slowed to an approach speed they can see everything — the multi-colored swirl of far-off systems; gas pockets refracting light into rainbows; and stars scattered like a handful of glitter against the gloom of space.

They aren’t in visual range of the Mu Relay yet, but they will be in a minute.

Shepard leans closer to the viewport. “Let’s hope Benezia was right.”

Joker snorts, “Let’s hope she wasn’t.”

Thirty seconds later they see it through the viewport, a tiny speck growing into a colossal relay, larger even than the one in the Sol System. It has the same distinctive profile as all other relays, but it looks and feels dead. There’s no comm chatter from incoming and outgoing ships, no flares of light as the relay activates, pushing and pulling ships to new star systems. Stranger still, it’s floating at an odd angle, a remnant of when it was blown off-course centuries ago and lost.

“I’m gonna do a visual pass before we go through,” Joker takes the Normandy on a wide, sweeping loop, pinging engineering as he goes. “Tali, I want your eyes on that thing. Tell me if you see anything that’s gonna get us killed.”

He takes three passes around it, just to be sure. The Mu Relay looks like every other relay he’d flown through but four thousand years of non-functionality does not for a high level of confidence make. 

“It looks to be in surprisingly good condition,” Tali says over the intercom at the end of his final circle. “But sometimes the damage is not at surface level. The semiconductors are usually the first things to go, and if they’re shot we will likely burn up very quickly when the relay activates. We might not even realize it’s happening.”

“Uh... thanks, Tali.” Joker has a sudden vision of the Normandy exploding in little blue and red fireballs. “So like… fifty-fifty?”

A pause on the line.

“Sure.” It’s hard to tell through her voice modulator, but the tone of Tali’s voice does not ring with confidence.

Shepard chuckles, the sound more sinister than humorous. “I’ll take those odds.”

Of course, she would.

A little bubble of warmth fills his chest. Shepard is fearless. He doesn’t have the right to be anything less.

“Well, damn. Here goes nothing.” Joker straightens his cap and starts to line the ship up for launch position. “Commander, once we’re through the relay, we’re either already super-dead or we’re flying blind. I won’t know what to expect until we get there. Ilos might be––” Joker clears his throat. “Yeah, we won’t know. You gotta be ready to fight by the time we’re through the relay.”

“I’ll be ready in five,” she assures him. “I just need to grab my gun.”

“Punch Saren in the taint, if you can. From me. I mean, you can shoot him too if you like, but it just seems less classy.”

Shepard smiles, a genuine flash of amusement that gives him butterflies. At least if nothing else, he can make her smile.

“Joker…”

Shepard’s voice shifts abruptly. Soft. A little hesitant. Something about it makes him want to nope right out of there. It sounds like she is trying to find a way to say goodbye, or... something, and he’s having none of that.

“Whatever you are going to say, Shepard, don’t say it. Just— not now, alright?” 

She takes a breath, expression quietly displeased, but nods. Her hand slides against Joker’s shoulder, and then away again, whisper-soft.

Joker closes his eyes. 

The door to the cockpit slides open and he twists around in his chair so fast he feels a twinge in his back. “Tell me later, okay,” he asks urgently. “Tell me after.”

She stands in the doorway, the light spilling in from behind makes it so he can’t see her face, not even the glint of emerald eyes. “Sure thing.”

***

Just beyond the Mu Relay, Ilos looms.

In five minutes everything has gone to shit. Saren’s troops show up as a sea of red on his feed. A swath of enemies so thick he can’t see the edges of them. They could very well cover the entire planet.

(Maybe the Council had an itty-bitty-bit of a point about the Geth.)

“My God…” Navigator Pressly breathes.

“Yeah, I know, I know. I see it.” Joker triple-checks the stealth mode but knows it won’t do any good if any of the Geth so much as look up. "Fuck.”

“We need to get the Commander planetside as quickly as possible, Lieutenant. I’m spotting Geth Colossus out there. Colossi. Dozens at least.”

Something turns over in Joker’s stomach. A direct hit from a Colossus’ pulse canon will fry the circuitry on Normandy's adaptive shielding, leaving little pockmarks across the surface area of her shields. Little cracks that could open her up and leave her vulnerable to any Geth ground troops with assault rockets and advanced targeting systems.

Joker licks his lips. “Find me a spot, Pressly.”

“There’s nothing.”

“Find it,” Joker can hear one of the flight crew marking enemies in range with the firepower to directly threaten the Normandy. It’s a pretty long list already, and the troops will swarm once they’re spotted and the shooting starts. “Find anything.”

“There’s nothing,” Pressly insists. He’s too seasoned to out-right panic, but his voice is tight and brittle. “The terrain is entirely rubbish!”

Joker pulls up the feed of possible drop zones, scanning through it himself.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing— but…

Joker frowns, zooming in. Flat land. Limited boogies. But not enough clearance for a drop. He’d have to—

“Joker,” Shepard’s voice cuts through on the comm. She, Kaidan, and Liara are already loaded into the mako, but she must be looking at the same feed as him. “Remember what you said about mako drops? Ever get a chance to test your theory?”

“Uh…” The sound is flat and long and Joker hopes he conveys the proper level of what the fuck, Shepard because what. the. fuck. Shepard. 

“Joker,” her voice is the kind of deadly serious that would freeze most people on the spot. “You’ve got about twenty meters, max. How confident are you about your theory?”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“How. confident,” she snaps.

“Fuck. Yes, alright! I can do this,” he nods even though she can’t see him. “I can do this, Commander.” 

He can’t see her expression, of course, but he can practically hear the shark-toothed sharpness of her grin. “Excellent.”

“Goddamnit, here we go,” he flicks his thumb along the flight controls, changing course for the new drop zone, and increasing the Normandy’s speed.

It’s counterintuitive, that’s why it’s controversial. A standard drop requires no less than a hundred meters of space. Mako’s have powerful shock- absorbers so they don’t rupture their passengers during a drop. High and slow, that’s what they all learned in flight school. Reduce the impact. Make the drop. 

Joker argued you could make a drop low and fast. Really low. Slide that fucker planetside like a pancake on a plate. No one would ever let him try it. The Alliance generally frowns on planetside approaches that reach speeds of hurtling.

But he was right.

And he knows he was right. 

Still, he’s not super thrilled to try it for the first time with both Shepard and Kaidan (and Liara) inside the mako he’s about to bodyslam into Ilos. But today’s all about balls out, apparently. 

He checks their course and increases the Normandy’s descent speed. Alarms start to blare, blinking orange and red, and the autopilot engages briefly before he overrides it, and throttles the stick even more. He can feel the vibrations in his flight seat pick up as Normand’s hull skips through the planet’s atmosphere. “Oh yeah. It’s gonna be a super fun Tuesday.” 

The Normandy’s flight support VI isn’t being super helpful. It keeps trying to get him to shift back to regulated drop speeds, so Joker juggles the calculations in his head. He can’t just not-squish Shepard and Kaidan and Liara. He’s got to not-squish them perfectly on target and avoid being seen by the Geth, or the whole thing is screwed.

A bead of sweat runs into his eye, stinging, but he doesn’t have a spare hand to wipe it away. “You’ve got about thirty seconds to back out of this, Shepard,” he shouts over the alarms.

“Just get us down, Joker!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

Joker activates the hanger doors and feels the sudden shift of increased air friction all along the Normandy’s underside. He fights with the stick for a moment, fingertips dancing across the flight panel as he compensates for the fastest fucking approach he’s ever made.

For just a second the Normandy tips too far back and he gets a burst of wind up the open hatch. At this speed, it feels like something’s tried to yank them out of the sky, and he tips the ship forward, overcompensating. It shudders violently, and Joker’s forearms ache as he tries to wrestle the ship back into position.

“Joker! ”

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

There’s a horrifying moment when the Normandy skips off the ground like a pebble off a lake, shields protesting with a flare of blue, and he thinks for a moment that if the ship crashes and they all die, at least he’ll be spared from having to write what is sure to be a clusterfuck of a flight report.

A bead of sweat rolls into Joker’s eye and he blinks it away hastily. His hands fly across the flight panels as he gets control of the ship. “Get ready, Commander! Five seconds!

"Four!

"Three!

"Two!"

Joker punches the hangar bay doors open and feels the little hiccup in the Normandy's handling when the mako drops to Ilos. But there’s no time to watch the outcome. He peels away in a turn so sharp the shields light up from air pressure alone. There are a handful of tense moments as they head for the skies, streaking out of range from a pair of Geth destroyers that patrol adjacent to the landing zone.

Joker hates leaving atmo when Shepard and the strike team are planetside, but sometimes there’s no help for it.

As soon as he's out of range of the Geth, he boosts the comms signal as much as he’s able, but there’s too much interference to pick up anything useful. Just bursts of static fading into a crackling buzz. He tries not to imagine that Shepard and Kaidan are pancake-flat in a mako on Ilos, but he imagines it all the same.

“Please, please. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…”

Even through the noise filters, the static just sounds like static, and every once and a while the buzzing whine of feedback, and nothing more. And then—

“Jo— Joker— you copy?”

“Shepard!” Joker nearly bounces in his flight chair, triumphant. “Thank fuck! Are you all alright?”

“Listen. There’s something happening.” Her voice is too measured, too even, like she’s focused on something beyond the conversation, and trying not to speak too loud.

Joker’s relief evaporates in a moment. “Commander?”

“I don’t… I don’t know what it is.”

He starts to turn the Normandy around, to evac Shepard and the strike team out of there. “I’m coming to get you,” he says seriously. 

“No. Don’t, Joker. Sovereign is—"

There’s a burst of gunfire and the sound of biotic detonations; from Kaidan or Liara, he can’t say. It doesn’t go on long as firefights go, but every second of it is awful. He can hear Shepard’s assault rifle firing as fast as she can pull the trigger. She swears breathlessly, and there's a long pause where her gun is silent, either from overheating or something more sinister. Kaidan’s heavy pistol, thudding like a hammer strike. More fizzy biotic noises. And Shepard’s gun starts up again, then slowly falls silent.

“Joker?” 

“I’m here.”

Shepard’s breathing hard, sounds like she’s running. “Listen carefully. I need you to head back to the Citadel.”

To the…

"I—" Joker shakes his head sharply, the sting of sweat in his eyes. “Say that again, Commander, I think I just had a stroke.”

“The Citadel, Joker. Raise the alarm. Sovereign is headed there. I don’t… I don’t have all the pieces. But you need to get there and stop it. I have to find the conduit.”

Joker feels a cold spear of ice in his chest. “You want me to leave you behind?”

Stranded. 

In dark space.

Behind a relay history has forgotten. 

Surrounded by ten thousand Geth.

“No…” Joker breathes. “Nope. I–– I’m not doing this again. Not after Virmire.”

“You’re not abandoning us, Joker. You’re saving the Citadel.” 

Right now, right in this moment, Joker gives two shits about the Citadel. Let it burn. He’s not leaving Shepard and Kaidan (and Liara!) alone on Ilos. Fuck no.

“Joker…”

The way she says his name sounds too much like she did standing in the cockpit of the Normandy. And for one brief, terrible moment he wishes he could rewind and hear what she had wanted to say to him.

“Get to the Citadel,” she says. “That’s an order. Go!”

Joker closes his eyes. “Going, Commander."

His hands move over the flight controls, propelling the Normandy away from Ilos, even as it breaks his heart.

No one should be able to say that he has no respect for the chain of command. Not with how he carves out a piece of himself with each unit of airspace he puts between himself and Shepard. By the time he reaches the relay tears are rolling down his cheeks, and there’s nothing but gunfire in his ears.

It’s sacrilegious to wish the crew luck during a mission. But he kisses his fingertips and presses them silently to the flight screen as the relay folds space around them, making everything start to blur. “You got this,” he whispers raggedly to them both. To himself. “You got this.”

But there's only the static of a lost connection humming in his ears.

[strangeandoff-putting]

why I'm happysad that they let Numa be the narrator in Society of the Snow.

So if you, like me, have been more than a little obsessed with the story of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 for a very, very long time, your stomach probably dropped like mine did when the narrator introduced himself as Numa Turcatti. (My immediate thought was, "why would you do this to us?!") If you went in blind, I feel for you!

But while the film gave us a version of Numa, since it's from his perspective what it doesn't really give us is the group's perspective on him. He comes across a bit like an outsider, and although, yes, his only surviving friend was Pancho Delgado, he wasn’t an outsider for long at all. On the contrary. So, here are a few excerpts from the books that tell you more about what he was like and how much they all loved him, because I feel like that’s important.

From Alive, Piers Paul Read:

Next to Parrado, Numa Turcatti was the most generally beloved of the boys. [...] Since he had known few of the boys before leaving Montevideo, it was proof of his strength, simplicity and complete lack of malice that he became so loved and respected by them.

On celebrating Numa's birthday while trapped under the avalanche:

The boys gave him an extra cigarette and made a birthday cake out of snow. [...] Many would have liked to give him a better time on his birthday, but instead it was he who improved their spirits. "We have survived the worst," he said. "From now on, things can only get better."

From Society of the Snow, Pablo Vierci:

‘When I talk about Numa, I can’t help but cry,’ says Coche Inciarte. ��He’s the best person I’ve ever met in my life. However tenderly I cared for those who were losing heart, Numa did it much better because he never got tired. He was constantly aware of everyone else’s distress. He radiated peace, he never gave up, and when he came near me, I felt like Jesus Christ himself was among us, with such mercy and compassion in his eyes. I don’t know where he got his strength.’ ‘I could never imagine him living in everyday life, because I met him and I loved him in that torment of the Andes,’ says Coche. ‘He had a hard time eating, like I did. We ate the bare minimum in order to survive. I lost one hundred pounds, he lost more. And just like me, his leg became infected after the avalanche. We operated on our legs together with a razor blade. But he deteriorated more quickly than I did, because he had given so much more; he had been too generous.’

Moncho Sabella:

Numa taught us about the anonymous heroism of giving more of himself to others than he reserved for himself. In that balance between solidarity and selfishness, which decided whether you lived or died, he tilted the balance in favour of the others to the detriment of himself. [...] And when the avalanche came and covered the plane, the one who worked the hardest, the one who removed the most snow so that we could come back to life, was Numa. Again, he was exceeding his own limits. [...] In the end, his immune system was so devastated that he got one infection after another. We gave him antibiotics and the doctors on the mountain attended to him every day, but finally he left us. And with him, we all died a little more.

Gustavo Zerbino:

I always remember Numa up there, full of despair, when he told us that he would rather die watching the sky, walking, instead of ending life immobilised in a cave of broken metal. For that reason, after the avalanche, he kept digging and removing snow without rest until he burned himself out with exhaustion. He always thought that his time had come but he wanted to work until the final moment, doing whatever he could to help. I cared for him all those days; I saw how he was hurried to the brink of death, with no defences, getting one infection after another. I went up to him and first I gave him a kiss on the cheek to greet him and asked him how he was doing. He just stared at me with a kind of infinite peace. He never complained. But Numa was quickly deteriorating: from that physical strength and vigour he had had at the beginning, he finished as a skeletal dying boy. He held on to his characteristic qualities until the end though. He was that same stoic guy when he was strong and when he was wasting away.

‘Gustavo Zerbino didn’t tell us the whole truth [about the expedition] because he didn’t want us to be discouraged. When I asked Numa about it, he couldn’t lie and he told me: “As far as we went, all you could see were more mountains.” But even so, he always wanted to be an expeditionary. “I want to go,” he told me, even though I knew at once he could never go, he was too exhausted and too hurt.’ So Numa approached Daniel Fernández, knowing that he had influence over the others, and he tried to convince him: ‘I can do it, Daniel, please believe me. I can do it.’ Daniel recalls, ‘When I told him that his injury made it impossible, he started working even harder than ever, like a bull, shovelling snow to unbury the plane after the avalanche to show that yes, he could do it.’

Finally, from Alive, after Numa died:

On this particular afternoon, Javier Methol lay at the back of the plane. "Be careful," he said to Coche as he rose and stepped over Numa's body. "Be careful not to step on Numa." "But Numa's dead," said Parrado. Javier had not realised what had happened, and now that he understood his spirits dropped completely. He wept as he had wept at the death of Liliana, for he had grown to love the shy and simple Numa Turcatti as though he were his brother or son.

I'm not sure the Numa we see in the film is quite the same person that he actually was on that mountain, but I'm so, so glad that he got a voice. He fought so hard for them all.

So, yeah. In the immortal words of Jake Peralta,

[spacemancharisma]

events of the day:

I get very little sleep bc of sinus infection. my partner has to go run an errand for their dad at 7:30am that ends up being a bust. they are also having a PTSD day, unrelatedly. we start packing & preparing to leave for a trip tonight. one of our pets dies suddenly and traumatically from a freak accident. partner goes to vet visit, then has to go back for the failed task from early that morning. drive to airport is double-length bc of traffic. we miss our flight. we have to wait 4 hours in the airport so we can take a different flight that has our arrival at 1am. I narrowly avoid a full-body breakdown in the bag checking area. I can't even taste my overpriced airport food bc of the sinus infection.

[typicalopposite]

zombie AU 🫣

because @blue-arts-stuff made this little gem right here (go give it all the love because *chefs kiss* the angst was angsting there) and it wormed its way into my brain and would not leave me alone until I made this!

CHECK THE TAGS FOR TRIGGER I BEG YOU!

Buck is tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally… just so goddamn tired. 

A storm is coming… he can feel it in the plates and screws that hold his leg together. He’d always thought that was a myth, but sure enough every big storm he feels a twinge of pain around them. They should get moving if they are going to make it before the rain starts. 

He scrumages through what supplies are available in the remains of the little corner shop. He only takes what he truly needs—which isn’t much—and leaves all that he can for whoever passes through next. Outside he can hear distant thunder, he needs to hurry. He unzips his bag and stuffs the supplies inside, catching a glimpse of the picture frame; he takes it out. 

Their wedding day. 

The smell of the ocean in the background, the sound of the cheers from their family as they vowed to have and to hold each other through it all… the sight of Tommy dressed in his tux, so handsome, so in love, so happy. 

They were so happy… for a while. They didn’t get nearly enough time before the outbreak.

Then it was long days, and longer nights of fighting to stay alive; fighting to keep everyone they cared about alive. So in vain, and slowly they watched as their family dwindled down until there were just a handful of them left. 

It was supposed to be a simple night run. They needed water. They needed more medicine. The store was so close… but not close enough. The attack was brutal. More lives lost. 

Tommy got bit. 

“Ev- Evan, baby… listen to me,” he tried, as Buck panickedly tried to clean out the wound. 

“No. I can— I can fix this… just let me think.”

“Evan.”

“We— We’ll cut off your arm,” he suggests. “It’s worked before…”

“It’s already spreading, baby. Look…” Tommy pulls up the bloody sleeve revealing the bluish green streaks running towards his neck and chest. “It’s too late… you have to.” 

“No.”

“Baby, we promised each other—” Tommy begged, tears falling from his eyes, the infection visibly creeping up his neck. Buck frantically shook his head, tuning out Tommy’s cries. “Evan!” He gasped. “Shoot me! Please!”

“No! I can’t!”

***

Buck wipes his eyes and slides the frame back into the bag. He slowly rises to his feet and slowly makes his way over to the bathroom and pushes the door open. Loud snarling, grunting and gurgling—that would normally send him into fight or flight mode—comes out of the darkness. He shines his flashlight into the room, stepping inside and unclipping the chain from one of the stalls. “Come on, sweetheart… we’re almost there.” 

They walk through the empty streets of what used to be LA; Buck leading Tommy (wrapped safely in a makeshift straight jacket, and wearing a muzzle) by the thick chain. The latter stumbles and growls, his head snapping this way and that, teeth chattering as he does his best to chomp at anything past the muzzle. They make it home just as the rain starts to fall. 

Buck steps inside the door, pulls Tommy through as well, and looks around at what’s left of their destroyed house—some of the mess they had made themselves in the panic to flee the infected city, some done after by people looking for shelter and supplies. He walks through the rooms, remembering the days they were filled with happy memories and life; the promise of a bright future. They were going to grow old in this house… live out the rest of their lives in this house. 

At least one of those was correct.  

He sighs, and leads Tommy up to the bedroom, securing him on the solid, sturdy, bedpost of their king size bed. He opens the bag, takes out the frame and sets it up on the bedside table. He takes out what he got from the little corner shop—a gun shop— and grits his teeth as he lifts his shirt, revealing the bite mark he’s been tirelessly trying to keep from spreading… until now. 

“Buck you have to let him go,” they had tried to tell him. “It’s not even— he wouldn’t want this… to live like this… for you to live like this…” 

He has lost so many people, the ones he didn’t lose to the virus, he lost for his impulsive, borderline insane decision. He’s been alone for a while… but at least he still had Tommy, in some way. 

Buck fights just to take in another breath, and puts a bullet into the gun. Tommy grunts and struggles against his restraints. “Almost ready,” Buck says. He is tired… but he won’t be for long. He walks over to Tommy and unhooks the chain from the bed. He looks into those glossed over eyes, gray and distant and thinks about when they were blue and bright and happy. They were happy once. Maybe they will be happy again in the next life. 

He slips a key in the restraints lock, swiftly turning it and releasing Tommy, He quickly pulls him into a hug, Tommy grabbing him back, turning his head into Buck’s neck and biting down. Buck pressing his head tight against Tommy’s. “I love you,” he says, and closes his eyes. 

The cool barrel against his cheek turns into a cool breeze and the salty smell of the ocean fills the air. Buck opens his eyes and is met with a beautiful sunset, a crowded beach… and Tommy, smiling at him. He blinks a few times to see if it’s all just going to disappear… 

“Hey baby, I’ve been waiting for you,” Tommy says, holding out his hand, the remnant of sunlight catching on his wedding band. Buck stares at Tommy for a moment, just taking in the sight. He smiles and takes his hand, and they join their family out by the water. 

.

.

.

It’s years later before the Buckley-Kinard house is visited again. 

Years since they were sent away to a safe haven while their parents fought off hoard after hoard, until the virus had runs its course. Those lost souls that weren’t instantly killed from the virus, or the battalion sent out to fight off the undead the virus created, eventually just rotted away until they were no longer a threat. 

“Hey Chris!” Jee calls from a bedroom. “I found something!” He stops poking around with one of his canes, rummaging for anything left to salvage from the house he spent many days of his youth, and goes to see what she found. In the back bedroom, laid out across the mattress of a tattered king sized bed, are two skeletons clinging to each other. 

“Do you think it’s them?” Jee asks. 

Chris steps closer, inspects the bodies; most notably their hands, and the matching bands they both are wearing. He looks up at the faded picture still sitting on the bedside table and smiles, a tear slipping from his eye. “Yeah… it’s them.” 

[mariacallous]

A United States Customs and Border Protection request for information this week revealed the agency’s plans to find vendors that can supply face recognition technology for capturing data on everyone entering the US in a vehicle like a car or van, not just the people sitting in the front seat. And a CBP spokesperson later told WIRED that the agency also has plans to expand its real-time face recognition capabilities at the border to detect people exiting the US as well—a focus that may be tied to the Trump administration’s push to get undocumented people to “self-deport” and leave the US.

WIRED also shed light this week on a recent CBP memo that rescinded a number of internal policies designed to protect vulnerable people—including pregnant women, infants, the elderly, and people with serious medical conditions—while in the agency’s custody. Signed by acting commissioner Pete Flores, the order eliminates four Biden-era policies.

Meanwhile, as the ripple effects of “SignalGate” continue, the communication app TeleMessage suspended “all services” pending an investigation after former US national security adviser Mike Waltz inadvertently called attention to the app, which subsequently suffered data breaches in recent days. Analysis of TeleMessage Signal’s source code this week appeared to show that the app sends users’ message logs in plaintext, undermining the security and privacy guarantees the service promised. After data stolen in one of the TeleMessage hacks indicated that CBP agents might be users of the app, CBP confirmed its use to WIRED, saying that the agency has “disabled TeleMessage as a precautionary measure.”

A WIRED investigation found that US director of national intelligence Tulsi Gabbard reused a weak password for years on multiple accounts. And researchers warn that an open source tool known as “easyjson” could be an exposure for the US government and US companies, because it has ties to the Russian social network VK, whose CEO has been sanctioned.

And there's more. Each week, we round up the security and privacy news we didn’t cover in depth ourselves. Click the headlines to read the full stories. And stay safe out there.

ICE’s Deportation Airline Hack Reveals Man “Disappeared” to El Salvador

Hackers this week revealed they had breached GlobalX, one of the airlines that has come to be known as “ICE Air” thanks to its use by the Trump administration to deport hundreds of migrants. The data they leaked from the airline includes detailed flight manifests for those deportation flights—including, in at least one case, the travel records of a man whose own family had considered him “disappeared” by immigration authorities and whose whereabouts the US government had refused to divulge.

On Monday, reporters at 404 Media said that hackers had provided them with a trove of data taken from GlobalX after breaching the company’s network and defacing its website. “Anonymous has decided to enforce the Judge's order since you and your sycophant staff ignore lawful orders that go against your fascist plans,” a message the hackers posted to the site read. That stolen data, it turns out, included detailed passenger lists for GlobalX’s deportation flights—including the flight to El Salvador of Ricardo Prada Vásquez, a Venezuelan man whose whereabouts had become a mystery to even his own family as they sought answers from the US government. US authorities had previously declined to tell his family or reporters where he had been sent—only that he had been deported—and his name was even excluded from a list of deportees leaked to CBS News. (The Department of Homeland Security later stated in a post to X that Prada was in El Salvador—but only after a New York Times story about his disappearance.)

The fact that his name was, in fact, included all along on a GlobalX flight manifest highlights just how opaque the Trump administration’s deportation process remains. According to immigrant advocates who spoke with 404 Media, it even raises questions about whether the government itself had deportation records as comprehensive as the airline whose planes it chartered. “There are so many levels at which this concerns me. One is they clearly did not take enough care in this to even make sure they had the right lists of who they were removing, and who they were not sending to a prison that is a black hole in El Salvador,” Michelle Brané, executive director of immigrant rights group Together and Free, told 404 Media. “They weren't even keeping accurate records of who they were sending there.”

The Computer of a DOGE Staffer With Sensitive Access Reportedly Infected With Malware

Elon Musk’s so-called Department of Governmental Efficiency has raised alarms not just due to its often reckless cuts to federal programs, but also the agency’s habit of giving young, inexperienced staffers with questionable vetting access to highly sensitive systems. Now security researcher Micah Lee has found that Kyle Schutt, a DOGE staffer who reportedly accessed the financial system of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, appears to have had infostealer malware on one of his computers. Lee discovered that four dumps of user data stolen by that kind of password-stealing malware included Schutt’s passwords and usernames. It’s far from clear when Schutt’s credentials were stolen, for what machine, or whether the malware would have posed any threat to any government agency’s systems, but the incident nonetheless highlights the potential risks posed by DOGE staffers’ unprecedented access.

Grok AI Will “Undress” Women in Public on X

Elon Musk has long marketed his AI tool Grok as a more freewheeling, less restricted alternative to other large language models and AI image generators. Now X users are testing the limits of Grok’s few safeguards by replying to images of women on the platform and asking Grok to “undress” them. While the tool doesn’t allow the generation of nude images, 404 Media and Bellingcat have found that it repeatedly responded to users’ “undress” prompts with pictures of women in lingerie or bikinis, posted publicly to the site. In one case, Grok apologized to a woman who complained about the practice, but the feature has yet to be disabled.

A Hacked School Software Company Paid a Ransom—but Schools Are Still Being Extorted

This week in don’t-trust-ransomware-gangs news: Schools in North Carolina and Canada warned that they’ve received extortion threats from hackers who had obtained students’ personal information. The likely source of that sensitive data? A ransomware breach last December of PowerSchool, one of the world’s biggest education software firms, according to NBC News. PowerSchool paid a ransom at the time, but the data stolen from the company nonetheless appears to be the same info now being used in the current extortion attempts. “We sincerely regret these developments—it pains us that our customers are being threatened and re-victimized by bad actors,” PowerSchool told NBC News in a statement. “As is always the case with these situations, there was a risk that the bad actors would not delete the data they stole, despite assurances and evidence that were provided to us.”

A Notorious Deepfake Porn Site Shuts Down After Its Creator Is Outed

Since its creation in 2018, MrDeepFakes.com grew into perhaps the world’s most infamous repository of nonconsensual pornography created with AI mimicry tools. Now it’s offline after the site’s creator was identified as a Canadian pharmacist in an investigation by CBC, Bellingcat, and the Danish news outlets Politiken and Tjekdet. The site’s pseudonymous administrator, who went by DPFKS on its forums and created at least 150 of its porn videos himself, left a trail of clues in email addresses and passwords found on breached sites that eventually led to the Yelp and Airbnb accounts of Ontario pharmacist David Do. After reporters approached Do with evidence that he was DPFKS, MrDeepFakes.com went offline. “A critical service provider has terminated service permanently. Data loss has made it impossible to continue operation,” reads a message on its homepage. “We will not be relaunching.”

[recoord]

Neil Gaiman allegedly sexually assaulted someone while writing The Graveyard Book

The discussion on Reddit, here.

Podcast transcript, here. Credits for the transcript to Tara O'Shea.

"K" is the pseudonym used by the victim sharing her experience:

Rachel: On the 4th of April, 2007, Neil Gaiman flew K from Los Angeles to Heathrow for a fortnight's holiday together in the UK alone, the two of them. K tells us she was excited to be on this amazing trip with her famous boyfriend and not have to sneak around.

From his messages to her, it seemed like he was too. Neil Gaiman met her on arrival and they then took a taxi to Gatwick Airport to fly to Inverness in Scotland. They visited Loch Ness and stayed at his house on the Isle of Skye for three days. They then flew to Cornwall and drove to Red Ruth in the far south west of England. They stayed in an old tinners cottage with a wood burning stove hidden up a bridal path.

It was advertised as affording complete privacy. He spent the days in Cornwall mostly writing the graveyard book and then they'd occasionally go for walks or drives. She sent us photos from that trip.

Beaches, pubs, cliffs, glens, scarves, the heavy grey skies of the Scottish and Cornish summer. She looks happy. When you see their faces together in the photos, he's unshaven, craggy, she's around 22. She looks so, so young. But she said there were fights. Lots of them.

K: There are a lot of arguments. There is a lot of roughness that I felt compelled to take.

CONTENT WARNING for graphic descriptions of SA

Rachel: What the photos also don't show is K's intimate agony. She told us that on that trip, she had her period and then a bad urinary tract infection.

K: I couldn't sit down. He would say, you know, I want to fool around, like, you know, and I would say, okay, we can fool around, but you can't put anything in my vagina. You just can't because I will die. And it didn't matter. He did it anyway.

Paul: He did it anyway. Although you told him you were in pain.

K: Very specifically said you cannot put anything in me. Please don't. It will hurt very badly and it will make things worse than they already are. Because I know for sure I remember forsure in Cornwall saying those words out loud. It wasn't just a discussion about like that hurts.

Like because I can't remember if I said that hurts. Don't do it or like please stop. I can't remember those other instances. I know we discussed it. I know it was a big part of why he would get upset at me and I knew that it was like something that I had to do to keep him around. Like it was expected of me, but in Cornwall, I remember because of that UTI and it was so painful that like I couldn't do anything. Like I couldn't enjoy the fact that I was in or like I was just in like screaming agony and I know I said it out loud then.

Rachel: On the 16th of April 2007, Neil Gaiman drove K to Heathrow for her flight back to Los Angeles. She says they stopped several times along the way so she could pee because of her UTI. She says it felt more painful because of the penetrative sex he allegedly performed on her without her consent. As to this specific allegation, Neil Gaiman's clear position is that it is false and again he denies any unlawful behaviour with her. He didn't respond to any other specific points or questions about this trip.

From episode 4 of the Tortoise podcast series.

[scary-lasagna]

hii!! Can we get some Brianxreader fluff and nsfw headcanons pls?? Tyᰔ

Here's some spiecy flavored things

Patchwork [Brian x Reader]

"I don't know how you managed to get so beat up every week." You shook your head in dismay, tossing a bloody antibacterial wipe in the trash.

"I'm just a little adventurous, that's all." He simply shrugged off your worries, and you knew he was trying to make you feel better, but it only heightened your concern.

"Adventurous is drinking Redbull instead of coffee in the mornings, not scraping your leg open falling down a flight of stairs." With a sterile popsicle stick, you dipped it in the ointment, and gently applied it to the dotted scrapes along the major wound.

"To each their own." He only smirked, "I told ya you didn't have to take care of me."

"I want to." You looked up at Brian, your head tilted and your hair slightly messy, all with a stern but caring look in your eye. You wanted to continue, but decided against it, shaking your head slightly and focusing back on his leg.

It hasn't been a ridiculously long time since you first arrived at the manor. Your Operator announced your availability, looking for some quick souls to trade for your labor when Slender caught wind of it. Times were rough, and humans don't heal quickly. Last thing he needed was one of his proxies to catch an infection or loose too much blood in one sitting.

You haven't been away from your Operator for this long in a while, however the break from constant work is nice. You were thankful that Slender picked you out in a room full of Medic-talented proxies, somehow sensing your need for a little vacation. You didn't work everyday, mostly because the proxies didn't go out everyday. But the miniscule work that you did do, were little patches and band-aids such as Brian tripping down the stairs.

Not that you minded, most of the proxies weren't terrible looking. Not that any of them seemed available, but they were still nice to gaze at, especially Brian and how much charm he radiates.

You glance up at him, allowing him to give you his lopsided smile. You pretend not to notice you're blushing and grab a bandage from your kit. You start binding up his leg.

"So...are you doing anything tonight?"

Holy shit.

"Um, no, why?" You asked with a fake sense of obliviousness. You hoped he didn't catch onto your overly cool tone. You fumbled with the bandage and it disobeyed, unwinding around his leg.

"A lot of us are going out to the firepit tonight? Was wondering if you wanted to come along." He asked with a good handful of hope.

Your heart sank a little. Did anyone here really like you enough to want you to be there? "I-I'm not sure. I'm not much of a social gathering kind of person."

Brain laughed, one of those kind that lets you catch a glimmer of his personality. "Neither is anyone else, but we all bring food and let Toby talk our ears off until we get tired." He smiled down at you as you finalized the bandage, "C'mon, I'm not gonna take no for an answer, you need to get out of the house somehow."

You huffed and pursed your lips, looking up at him with a playful glare, "Fine." And ignoring his victorious fist bumps, you pack up your kit and stand up with a few cracks of your knees.

He steps uncomfortably close inside your little personal space bubble, gazing down at you. Bastard knows what he's doing. "I'll see ya' at six."

[aardvaark]

I just developed the Leverage brainworms, and they commingled with the House MD brainworms from when I was super into that show, so I came up with a rough outline for a House MD/Leverage crossover: Parker is in the ER after an injury on the last mission and overhears House loudly complaining to probably Cuddy about how some rich asshole is getting the organ his 16 yo patient needs because the patient got accused of something that he knows is fake. Everyone on the coms is telling Parker that it's not their job, to just drop it, but she fakes a much bigger injury and gets admitted as a cancer patient, so now they have to steal a hospital again.

House clocks Nate almost immediately and agrees to keep Cuddy off of them while they do whatever else they need to do. He also takes on the rich guy's case at the same time as the 16 yo, to keep him in the hospital.

Parker and Wilson get a few scenes together, and she has to talk him through some crime to help them along at some point. Foreman and Hardison get paired off, as well as Chase and Sophie, and Cameron and Elliot. At one point, Sophie and Chase have to fake dating for the case.

House and the team figure out that the rich guy's prognosis is even worse than he'd initially thought, even with the organ, he's not living past a year. This revelation comes at the same time as the Leverage team finding the evidence of the faked stuff that blocked the transplant initially. It's probably at this point that Cuddy is clued into everything as well.

The transplant committee agrees to give the organ to House's patient, and the rich guy gets scammed out of money somehow to pay the other patient's medical bills plus other things.

first of all, congrats on catching the leverage brainworms :) welcome to the party lol. secondly i love the idea of crossing over with house, because you’re so right, nate & house share quite a few major traits and would definitely clock each other! like the two spidermans meme. and the team has had a couple run-ins with medical & hospital settings and, notably, a guy trying to steal an organ, so it fits the jobs they take on very well. timeline-wise, the shows ran at the same time for a bit, too, so that’s nice because the technology level and their ages etc can be consistent.

i think eliot & foreman might bond a bit over their frustrating bosses. i’d love to see the ducklings eventually break into their patient’s house as they often do, and some of the leverage team already being there just like "umm we know what WE are doing here, but why the hell are this kid’s doctors breaking and entering??". and then bond over the whole "ohhh trust me, i know what having a really weird boss is like" thing lol.

also once parker’s recovered enough to sneak around, we def need to see more of parker pretending to be a nurse (eg order 23 job & miracle job) because 1) parker being a little disturbingly happy about being around sharp things (like needles & scalpels) or getting to drug people is always funny, and 2) easy seasons parker trying to comfort people is the best. her flight attendant alias in the mile high job? incredible. "death haunts us everyday :) <3" lmao.

thanks for the ask and infecting me with leverage/house crossover brainworms now too!!