#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.

[givemethedamnflowers]

.

[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 sha ahsnt 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 squinted an excessive amount of soap onto the punch 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 shed. "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'm want to hold you."

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

You took a shaky step and had one food out of the house. Your breathes came fast, but you clenched your muscle, forcing yourself not to go back. "Damian," you called out to him.

"Right here, baby." 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."

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

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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..."

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,"

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.

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.

[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.

[rrickgrrimes8]

Ho, can i just day i love your works! May i request an ellie x miller reader where maybe ellie and the reader get into an argument on the way to jackson and reader is giving ellie the silent treatment. Joel tried to help then resolve it but it doesnt work until they get ambushed by clickers and reader gets lost for a few days or sum. Then ellie and reader make up and kiss!!! Pretty pls

Never Again

summary: what makes a better lovestory than jealousy, clickers and mourning?

Ellie Williams x miller!reader (aged up) — she/her reader. Joel Miller x daughter!reader

warnings: infected, angst, fluff, making out, fluff, arguments, Dina, minor injury, happy ending

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

thanks for the request! hope this was what you wanted! ;)

word count: 1.3k

You didn’t know how you even got here.

A small fire dwindled in front of you. Your arms wrapped around your chest, sinking into the feeling your own comfort gave you.

How did this happen?

You were just with them, with Ellie and now this… Now you were on your own, again. You wished you could take it back and you were sure, wherever Ellie was, she would agree too.

How could you let this happen?

“You’re not listening to a word I say,” You hissed, trekking, and struggling up a long flight of stairs.

Joel rolled his eyes, a little further up then the two of you for once – the wish to escape this situation outweighing the ache in his knees.

Ellie scoffed, “I listen! I am listening! You’re not even telling me what I did wrong!”

“Christ, Ellie, that’s the problem,” You huffed, turning to face her, “You don’t understand why I’m upset with you.”

The girl’s eyes soften, frowning when she saw your tears, “Tell me then.”

You shook your head, biting your lip, “You flinched, Ellie.”

“What?” She almost laughed.

Joel looked back at this point, stopping to catch his breath but instead getting a front row view of your argument. “Back in Jackson… you and Dina were talking. I came up to you. I held your hand and you fucking flinch.”

“So?” She rolled her eyes, “What does that even matter?”

“It matters b-because of her,” You spat, “Its always her, Ellie.”

Ellie huffed a laugh, shooting a look at Joel, who was not impressed, “Can you believe this? She’s fucking jealous.”

“Ellie,” He warned.

“I’m not jealous, Ellie,” You defended weakly, “I shouldn’t have to be! You’re my girlfriend, not D-Dina’s.”

“I know!” She yelled, patient growing thin, “I know! Christ…”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” You suppressed your tears.

“Get what?” She chortled, “That you’re jealous? And acting ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous?” You repeated, “You think I’m being ridiculous?”

“Yes!” Her eyes blew wide, hands emphasizing her anger.

You gulped, “Maybe if I’m being so ‘ridiculous’ you can got stay with Dina when we get back. What about that, huh? How’s that for ridiculous?”

“What?” She glanced at Joel again, this time more for help than out of amusement, “That’s not what I want.”

“Oh really?” You ignored your father, who warned you to stop, “Because that sounds like exactly what you want! You fucking flinched, Ellie!”

“So what?” She screamed, hands running over her tied back hair.

“So what?!” You exasperated, “You’re my girlfriend and all I can think about is how you want to be hers. And I mean why wouldn’t you want to be… I’m fucked. And don’t deny it, Ellie, I know, my dad knows. And one day, sooner or later you’re going to know. And you’ll end up with her... It will always be her…”

Ellie sucked in a harsh breath; you name falling from her cracked lips.

“Leave it,” You mumbled, pushing passed your dad, who watched you carefully and with concern, “Let’s just get on with it.”

Joel cursed as you stormed ahead of them, turning to Ellie with a scolding look, “Fix it.”

 Ellie nodded, shakily, guilt forming in her gut, “How?”

But Joel didn’t have time to respond. Your scream echoed down the stairwell. The pair yelled your name but all they were met with was infected, clickers, dozens, and dozens of them. They lost sight of you entirely – fearing the worst.

The rest was a blur, you thought. You couldn’t remember how many you killed or how you got out of the building, how you even survived. But you ended up here, uninjured, cold, and alone.

You cursed yourself. Because it was your fault. You picked the fight. You let your jealousy get the better of you. You ran ahead.

And now Ellie and your dad, well, they could be anywhere.

That was the scariest feeling in the whole world.

x

“She’s not here.” Tommy’s words echoed around Ellies mind.

Her and Joel, somehow, had gotten back her in one piece. Maybe because they had tricked themselves into thinking you would’ve beaten them back – that fueling their energy. But you hadn’t.

“She’s not here.”

Joel’s face switched. His eyes felt so far away. Unshed tears lining them. He looked at Ellie as if she was a stranger. Like it was her fault.

Ellie broke down straight away. She wanted to feel embarrassed about it, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be.

You weren’t here. You weren’t home. You weren’t anywhere.

Joel refused to leave the wall. He told them that they didn’t know anything, that they didn’t know you. That you would be back, you always did. You were Joel Miller’s girl after all.

Ellie locked herself into the room you shared. She hugged your pillow to her chest, her aching burning chest.

This wasn’t right.

First her mom.

Then Riley.

Then Tess.

Sam.

Henry.

Not you. Never you.

This couldn’t be how she lost you. You had been through too much for it just to amount to this. For it to amount to nothing.

She couldn’t stop crying. She feared she never would.

All she needed was you.

x

It took you three days to get back to Jackson. The weather, the infected and a hurt ankle that you had gotten on the way slowed you down tremendously.

You almost cried as you saw the gates. You picked up your speed, sprinting back home now, neglecting your limp.

A horse met you halfway. Joel cried when he saw you, alive. He knew it. He goddamn knew it.

He had never moved so fast in his life. He dismounted the horse and sprinted the short distance to you.

“Babygirl,” He pulled you into his chest, holding you like a porcelain doll.

“Dad,” You beamed, wrapping your arms around him.

“I knew it, baby, I knew you’d make it back,” Joel told you.

You nodded against him, tiredly.

“You okay?”

You pulled away from him, “Fine, jus’ my ankle.” He stared down at it, blood soaking through a makeshift bandage you had tied.

“It’s not-“

“No,” You calmed him, “Snagged it on some barbed wire – wasn’t looking where I was going.”

He nodded, taking in your features, your everything and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “C’mon… someone owes you an apology.”

You chuckled, accepting his help getting on the horse, “She okay?”

He scoffed, “Without you, no.”

Yours and Ellies door was closed when you got back home. You never thought it would look so daunting, until now. A closed door with you on the other side, with Ellie feeling so far away.

You slowed your breathing, limping until you were face-to-face with it. A sighed escaped your lips as you shakily knocked. No movement, no noise. Complete silence.

You frowned, knocking again, harder. You were met with the same.

Your hand found its way to the handle, hating how grating the noise it made was.

Ellie was motionless on the bed. Her body was molded around your pillow, tear stains becoming at once its new style. “E-Ellie,” You breathed out.

She jumped, head shooting up in your direction. Ellie cried out your name, urging you to rush to her. Her arms abandoned your pillow and made their home back on your body, on your skin.

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” She sobbed, grip tightening, “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You smiled, kissing her shaking hands sweetly, “Its okay, Ellie. I’m sorry too.”

She shook her head, pulling you closer, as if that was possible, “You were gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I heard your scream,” She croaked, “I thought… not you. Not you…”

“I’m here,” You whispered, kissing up her neck, “I’m here, baby.” Ellie nodded at your words, accepting your love graciously.

Kissing along her jaw, you finally found her lips. They moved in sync, performing a dance you both knew well but at the same time the tone was different.

Ellie was more desperate. Angrier. Sadder.

You kissed her, nevertheless. Hoping to fight away those feelings.

Ellie smiled against your lips, pulling apart hesitantly. “Never go again,” She whispered, forehead falling against you, “I couldn’t bear it.”

“Never,” You told her, “Never again.”  

[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. :)

[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,

[yelenasdiary]

When The Time Comes

Pairing: Military! Yelena Belova x Fem! Nurse! Reader

Summary: After a traumatic experience, Yelena worries about your well-being. 

Warnings: Dark Themes, Mentions of War, Kidnapping, Details of Torture, PTSD, Depression, Details of Murder, Gore, Mentions of Blood, Scaring, Medical Talk | 3.3K

Translations:lyubov' (love), detka (baby), 

AC:Some of you may have already seen a dot point of this fic so here’s the full fic!

October Special Masterlist

4:03am your wife was woken by a long-awaited phone call, quickly turning over and picking up the phone, "Belova" she answers without a hint of lack of sleep in her voice. The voice on the other end of the line wastes no time in informing the highly skilled sniper that after two long, stressful, and worrying months, her wife has been found. 

"Is she okay? Can I talk to her? I'll get the first flight over!" Yelena's mind is racing. She knows the stress and worry isn't over, but her commanding officer assures her that you were treated with the best of care and should be landing in the states within a few short hours. Little information was shared with the blonde who didn't take notice of the time when she called Natasha. 

"Lena, it's 4am, is everything okay?" Natasha's low, raspy, and tired voice travels through the phone. Yelena once again not caring to take notice of the time, "They found her!" She replies while she gets out of bed and slides on her slippers. She can tell by the shift in Natasha's voice that the red head has shot up from her laying position, "are you sure?!" 

"Positive, they said she'll be landing in New York in a few hours. Can you watch Natalia for me? Please?" Yelena asks as she walks down the hall to your daughter's bedroom, peaking her head through the crack of the door to check on the three-year-old who was asleep peacefully snuggling her favorite plushie. 

"Of course, I'll be over soon" Natasha replies before hanging up the line. 

Hours passed as Yelena waited patiently alone in the hospital's waiting room, 9:28am and they were still checking you out and not a single word on your wellbeing was mentioned to your wife. Small cups of coffee filled the bin as Yelena's mind ran over scenario after scenario, her right knee bouncing uncontrollably as other patients' family members came and went. Some leaving in tears of grief while others left with sighs of relief. 

Lost in her thoughts, Yelena didn't even notice Natasha taking a seat beside her and placing her hand on her sister's knee. It wasn't until Natasha's thumb stroked Yelena's knee that the blonde's eyes turned to meet her sister. 

"Wands has Natalia" Natasha spoke softly reading the look on her sister's face. Yelena nodded as she leant back in her chair, "any news?" Nat asked. 

"Nothing" Yelena replied while she tried to fight back her tears, wanting to stay as strong as she possibly could for you. 

"Mrs Belova?" a doctor asked as they entered the waiting room, Yelena's eyes shot up to meet the eyes of a tired woman as she took off her surgical cap. 

"That's me" Yelena replied, standing from her chair before she could even blink. Natasha was standing beside her, both looking at the doctor for answers. Her eyes scanned the waiting room, "come with me please, somewhere more private" she replied. Her words made Yelena's stomach drop, her mind now filling with her biggest fear as she and Natasha followed the woman in scrubs with a white coat down the hall, taking a left and into a room with soldiers standing guard outside. 

"Please just cut the crap, is she okay?" Yelena's eyes looked deeply into the doctor's in hopes of finding answers. The woman took a deep breath, her own eyes looking at Natasha before back at Yelena, "she's my sister, please!" Yelena added. 

"Mrs Belova, your wife okay. We would like to keep her in for a week before sending home, she's malnourished and some of her injuries we are going to keep an eye on in case of an infection. She's extremely weak at the moment but physically, she will make a full recovery. I have requested that our psychiatrist comes down to speak to you, they will be able to inform you of your wife's mental health" the doctor who forgot to introduce herself explained, her name tag reading "Dr Katherine Campbell".

"I'd rather see my wife first, please" Yelena pleaded just wanting to see you for herself. 

"I'm sorry but I think it's best you wait" Dr Campbell's eyes shifted to Natasha in hopes she'd help make the stressed blonde understand. Natasha looked at Yelena, placing a hand on her forearm, "let's just wait for the psychiatrist, you'll want to know everything there is" Nat agrees with the doctor just as another woman knocks and enters the room. 

"Here she is" Doctor Campbell smiled softly at the other woman. 

"Hi, Mrs Belova, is it?" the woman smiled, reaching her hand out to shake Yelena's, "I'm Dr Jenna Hemmings, please take a seat" she added before also shaking Natasha's hand. The four women took a seat at the large, rounded table, Yelena's knee bouncing once again as she watched the psychiatrist open up a file of documents that had your name on them. 

"I'm very sorry for what you've been through over the last three months, I don't have a lot to discuss in terms of where your wife is at mentally, but, I have seen her and I from what I have seem I can give you a rough idea on what to expect" Dr Hemmings began as she looked between the two sisters. 

"It's my understanding that your wife has suffered from serious and extreme torture during her captivity. I have seen many cases unfortunately and I just want to let you know that it's not going to be easy. Y/n may become distant and feel disconnected from what she knows. Who she was before the kidnapping may take some time to return, I'm going to give you a list of other psychiatrists for you to make an appointment with then Y/n feels ready to talk about the events. It's important that you do not push her to talk, if she wants too, listen. 

Do you share any children together?" She goes on. Yelena nodded, "A three year old, Natalia" 

"As hard as this will be on your daughter, it'll be best if she has somewhere else to stay with the first week that Y/n is home"

"You want me to keep my daughter from seeing her mother?" Yelena frowned in confusion. 

"This is just until you and Y/n's psychiatrist have a better understanding of her PTSD" Dr Hemmings replied. Natasha assured Yelena that the little girl could stay with her, Wanda and the boys for as long as needed. "Can I just see my wife now? Please? whatever else you need to discuss, I'm sure we can do later" Yelena begs once more. 

Dr Hemmings nodded lightly, "I'll let Dr Campbell explain your wife's injuries" 

-A Week Later-

Since being home, Yelena has cared for you day in, day out. She tended to the wounds that covered your back, changing the bandages and cleaning them. She did the same for the grazes and cuts on your face, arms, legs and thighs. She showered you, clothed you and fed you, all while you could barely bring yourself to say a single word. 

The bedroom was kept dark, anytime Yelena opened the blinds to let some sunlight in, you got up and closed them before getting back in to bed to sleep the day away. A psychiatrist had stopped by twice since you came home, but even she couldn't get you to speak. She suggested to Yelena that it would be in your best interest to start antidepressants which you took without a fight. 

"Good morning lyubov'" Yelena spoke softly as she got on her knees in your view, your eyes glued to the dark gray wall behind her. Looking into your eyes, Yelena only saw the ghost of the woman she loved. She gently stroked your face with her left thumb, "Natalia is coming home this morning, do you feel up to seeing her?" she asked. Your eyes shifted and connected with the worried eyes of your wife's, the first time you really looked at her since the hospital. You shook her head before turning to your other side, giving Yelena the view of your clothed back. 

"Okay lyubov', we'll try again tomorrow. I'll go get you some breakfast" Yelena said in defeat. She hoped that the idea of seeing your daughter would bring something new out of you, that you'd get out of bed and come downstairs for the first time. 

Yelena returned 20 minutes later with toast, orange juice, your medication and some vitamins placing them on your bedside table. She kissed your cheek and whispered how much she loved you before letting you fall back asleep in the darkness. 

"I miss mommy" Natalia pouted as she picked up another slice of apple from her plastic plate. "I know dorogoy, mommy isn't feeling well at the moment but she's getting better, she's getting plenty of sleep so she can play with you again" Yelena assures the little girl before placing a kiss on her forehead, "how about mac n cheese for dinner?" She asks. Natalia perks up instantly, nodding with excitement, "Mac n cheese!!!!" She claps with a mouth full of apple. 

Night time came, Natalia was bathed, fed and tucked in bed fast asleep after Yelena read her a bedtime story. She can't stop her mind from remembering when you and her would read a fairytale together for the growing child, switching voices, giggles full of life filling the room before the angel drifts off to sleep. Not only did Yelena miss you, but so did Natalia. A drawing of the three of you in crayons sat on the toddlers drawing table, mommy in bed just like her mama said. 

When Yelena came to bed, it was the only time you felt safe again. You instantly felt her arms wrap around you, pulling you close as she knew you'd been waiting all day for her to come back to bed. "How are you feeling detka?" She asks in a soft tone, you wanted to answer her, to give her a form of words but nothing left your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you brought her hand to your lips, kissing the top of her hand to let her know you were here, you heard her, you loved her.

-1 Month Later-

As time went on, Yelena was doing her best to give you everything you needed but her growing thoughts were becoming darker by the day. She wasn't going to push you to talk about what happened, but she couldn't help but picture just how you got the wounds on your back. She was positive they would turn into scars and she worried for when the time would come and you'd notice them never fading away. She wanted to know if you were tortured into not speaking of the events that happened, she hasn't heard your voice since you woke up in the hospital. "Just tired" were the last words she heard you speak.

The meditation didn't seem like it was working in Yelena's eyes, you still didn't have the energy to get out of bed, to talk, to eat or even shower. Natalia hounded her mama daily for when she could see her mommy and on the one chance you nodded at Yelena's request for the young girl to see you, it broke her. Natalia of course, didn't entirely understand what was wrong with you and she didn't take your actions to heart, but deep down, Yelena did. Natalia had tried to show you a drawing she did at day care, you took one look at the colorful drawing before you looked back at Yelena who was standing behind your daughter, you shook your head at her than turned to lay with your back facing them. 

It wasn't until one night when Yelena had gotten into bed with you rather early, she mentioned Natalia was staying at Natasha and Wanda's for the night. She held you in silence for hours until you turned and looked at her. Tears pooled at your eyes before slowly making their way down your cheeks, your wife wiping them away gently with the touch of her thumb as she placed a loving kiss on your forehead before looking into your broken eyes once more. 

"What do you need detka? How can I help you get through this?" Yelena asked and for the first time since everything, you weren't looking through her. You could see how tired she was, the stress and worry of everything creeping in on her. Slowly you sat up and took a deep breath, Yelena sat up with you keeping a close eye on your body language. 

"Can I make us a hot coco?" you asked. Yelena couldn't help but smile softly as she nodded. Happy she finally heard your voice since you were at the hospital, no longer having to repeat the last words you spoke to her, "just tired" running through her head. 

You returned to the bedroom with two mugs of hot coco and a large yellow envelope, placing it on the end of the bed before handing Yelena her drink. "If I tell you everything, c-can you write it down for the report, please?" you asked, sipping your drink and placing it on your bedside table. Yelena nodded without a second thought, "of course detka, are you sure you're up for this?" she asked, just to be sure. 

"Are you sure you want to hear it?" you asked her in reply, worried that the details you had to share for the report would upset her. "If I am the only person you feel safe enough to tell, I am here to listen detka. I've got your back like you've got mine" she reminded you as she placed her mug on her bedside table and grabbed the envelope and pen. You took another deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the moment you were taken captive. 

"I just finished my shift, Lisa, Jasmine and I were walking back to our rooms when 3 masked men ambushed us, one grabbed Lisa and dragged her towards the bush, he had large knife to her neck. Another put a bag over Jasmine's head, they told us to keep quiet or they'd kill us. I screamed for help, but one guy hit me over the head with his gun and I blacked out. When I woke up, I had a shackle on my left ankle, my hands tied behind my back and a bag over my head. 

I could hear the girls screaming and crying for help, the place smelt unbearable…like death. I tried to keep the girls calm, I told them we'd be safe soon, to keep quiet or they'd hurt us but we were all so scared. 

They kept us like that for hours, days maybe. I wasn't sure, it was too dark with the bag over my head. When they came back, one guy removed the bag, he was wearing a mask and had his gun pointed directly at me. There was a small cup of water and a bread roll on the floor, he told me to eat, or he'd shoot me. I was so hungry, that when he cut me free, I don't think I even swallowed much of the roll, the water was dirty but I didn't care. I asked him about the girls, but he just kneed me in the face to shut me up. 

It was like that for days until the ringleader came, he had an interpreter with him, he didn't speak one word of English. He said that if our country cared enough about us, they'd stop the war and go home and leave us behind to become slaves." You spoke slowly so Yelena could write but halfway through, she decided that typing it up would be a lot faster. 

"Things got worse, every time we did something wrong, we got less food and water, a beating and placed in this room that felt like it was on fire. It was so hot in there, sometimes they threw me in there just because I didn't eat fast enough. Lisa tried to escape but they caught her, they dragged me into this room with her and ha-" you paused as tears streamed down your face. 

"Detka, we can take a break, it's okay" Yelena's hands reached for yours but you shook your head, "I don't want never want to speak about this ever again, I have to do this now" you replied, wiping your tears before taking a mouthful of your hot coco. 

"He handed me a gun and told me to shoot her but I couldn't. I tried to plead with him, saying she won't do it again but that just gave me a beating. He beat me with a rusty pipe wrapped with barbed wire, that's that the marks on my back are from. I've never felt so much pain…I was crying so much that eventually he grabbed me by my hair and made me watch" you paused once more, your body shaking with fear as you recalled the details of what happened to your friend. Your wife was quick to put the laptop aside and instantly wrapped you in her arms, pulling you close into her as you broke down.

Through your sobs, you continued to explain the events you endured. "T…T-they beheaded her like it was nothing! There was blood very where, I was c-crying! Screaming! They tossed her h-he…to me and told me if I didn't shut u-up that w-would be me" You gripped onto your wife for life, she held you tightly as she cried with you. Kissing the top of your head for comfort. 

----

3:38am, you were passed out asleep, tired from the crying and recalling. Yelena watched over you, her arms wrapped around you. She knew it was going to be a long road of recovery ahead, but she had every faith in you. 

By morning, you woke up to an empty bed, but you felt differently. You sat up, stretched and slipped into your robe before making your way downstairs to see Yelena making waffles with your daughter. You smiled softly to yourself before making yourself known to your girls. 

"Mommy!!!" Natalia came running into your arms. You hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek, "you feel better?" she asked. You nodded, "a little bit my love" you replied before putting her down on her feet. Yelena turned around and smiled lovingly at you, "Natalia, can you please get your sippy cup?" she asked the little girl to distract her for a moment so she could talk to you. 

"I sent your report this morning" Yelena informed you with a kiss on your cheek. "Thank you, darling" you wrapped your arms around her, "what's on your mind?" you asked her, seeing she'd been thinking. 

"He's still out there" she replied, her jaw clenching at the thought of the man who tortured you for months walking free in his own country. You knew instantly from her tone what she was thinking, and you knew there would be no way to stop her, in fact, you didn't even want to stop her.

"I know and if the time comes, I don't want you to think twice" You cupped her face, "let him suffer…he's already taken enough from me, take everything from him" you added looking into her eyes. "Here mama!" Natalia's voice broke the silent agreement between you two. 

It would be a year until Yelena returned to war, she wanted to stay with you until you knew well enough to look after yourself once more. Now with a four year old and your wife off finding the man who covered you in scars, physically and mentally, you made the decision to never return to the warzone but would continue your work at the veterans clinic.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @irishhappiness | @music-4ever | 

[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.” 

[fluffer5]

Humans and our insane biology

My 2nd entry to humans are space orcs.

So, I've always seen in movies that the intergalactic version of healing is via cryopads or filling an entire space tube with some sort of liquid and just chucking the entire person inside to heal for an indefinite amount of time depending on the severity of their injury.

Now, humans don't have the luxury of that. I can sorta theorized that the medical stuff the aliens use would include the use of nanites or galactic medicinal herbs that would speed up the healing process, bumping up a supposedly 10 years of physical rehabilitation and recovery to a few months at most and to those who get the quality herbs, then a few weeks.

Seeing as Earth would be seen as a deathworld, a term I've been seeing for planets that hold life forms but is seen as a hostile planet to other other galactic race, they would be baffled by the slowness of our healing process.

They might think, "Their planet is harsh so their healing process must be very fast". And they're half correct with that assumption. Even the most ill of humans can fight back on a lot of health issues even with minimal medical support.

Infection? Increased white blood cells and even developing a fever to kill this micro invaders via increased body temperature. The body not getting oxygen? Body falls into tachypnea or breathing too fast to get more oxygen. Any feelings of danger? Adrenaline pumps out to give you an extra boost of energy for fight or flight purposes. Injury leading to a cut somewhere on our skin? Have the platelet go over there and cover the cut and have the white blood cells round up the bacteria that could've entered. Hungry with no food? Let me use this fat tissue as energy.

Alien: You mean you heal slowly or very fast depending on your injury?! What if your body can't heal itself or what if you're too weak to do the healing?! *panicking from the stress since humans are technically considered as Eternal Younglings given that they're the fastest to die from their short lifespan*

Human: That's when we go to the hospital. Our version of your healing technology.

Alien: Oh, thank the stars. So how long do you stay in your cryopad if you have a deep injury?

Human: Depends on how deep. If it's just a small cut or a small bruise then we don't go to the hospital. But if the injury is super deep or an organ is not functioning well or we're bleeding from the inside, then we have doctors who put us to sleep with this chemical called anesthesia and they operate on the cut and fix the messed up organs.

Alien: *concerned alien noises* Doctors are like healers, yes? How do they exactly 'fix' you?

Human: So, they inject us with this anesthesia, wait for us to fall asleep, then cut their way through our muscle, fats, and tissues before seeing the organs, maybe cutting up a bit of it to send to the labs or fixing it up. I don't really know the exact details since I'm just your plain worker.

Alien: Child, 'healers' who cut up patients are called as kiarvetj, killers! *exasperated, panicky actions* How... how often did you say that you Terrans go to this hospital again?

Human: Oh, I'm not sure for the rest of my kind but for those who are healthy enough like me who can function and not collapse or vomit blood or get in an accident, then pretty much never. Besides, even if I want to know if I'm sick of something, the price to have myself be medically checked is too much. So I just make do with herbs and stuff.

Alien: I think I'm going to have a word with the UIC (Unified Intergalactic Council) about this... AGAIN!

[dragonmurray]

Poisoned Truth

Loki x female reader

Triggers - smut, 18+, mild angst

Description - hydra had poisoned the team with a love drug. What will you do when you’re the only one without a lover?

————

You were screwed. No two ways about it. Death was coming for you. The irony in that phrase.

A simple mission with the Avengers turned out to be a trap set by Hydra. Tony, Nat, Clint and you headed over to a warehouse thinking you would be collecting some valuable intel on the latest leader to step up in Hydra. It was too late when Tony detected the gas in the building, you were all infected.

The flight back in the jet was spent scanning, researching, testing everything possible to work out what they had poisoned you with, but 5 minutes in to the flight you were starting to realise.

Tony was desperate to get to Pepper, Nat to Bruce, and Clint to his wife. Desperate with need. Overwhelming, soul crushing need. From the little Tony could gather the Hydra drug would drive them to madness, boil them from the inside out unless they found their completion with the one they love.

Hydra were placing their bets on no Avenger being able to find true love. They would lose that bet, for the most part.

You however? Agent y/n l/n? You had no such love. Not that anyone knew anyway. You made it back to the tower, the others running to their loved ones for some life saving alone time. You slowly stumbled back to your room, a thin veil of sweat starting to cover your body. Alone.

You closed the door to your room and sank down to the floor. A weird kind of acceptance seeping in to your brain. So this is how it would end. Thwarted by the one enemy you could never defeat, love and orgasms. How poetic. You weren’t a virgin, you’d had your share of partners, but every one a disappointment. No man had ever taken the time to learn your body, to relish in your pleasure instead of their own. You’d never known pleasure from another.

An ache in your core starter and your mind drifted to the man you had dared to hope would have changed that. A secret hope he could never know of. He, a God, could never lower himself to the standards of a mortal. Sure you spent most of your free time together. Reading, playing tricks on each other to pass the time. You were one of the few to get him to open up and on some occasions, laugh. But he was also quick to tell you of his lineage, his power, his birthright.

You were just y/n. A basic mortal with some killer fighting skills. Nothing more.

A knock on your door had you jumping and groaning at the same time as the heat flared in your body.

“Agent?” Loki called “agent you need to let me in”

“Go away Loki, you can’t be near me. You can’t see this. It’s fine just go” you replied. Keeping your voice as flat as possible in the hope he wouldn’t care enough to stay.

“We both know that’s not true. I’ve seen, and heard the other return. I know something is very wrong now let me in” Loki sounded aggravated. So he wanted to know what happened, good for him, he can read about it later you thought.

Shivers were starting to run down your spine. His proximity not helping your situation. You may not be ready to admit your feelings for the god, but clearly your body knew. It was getting harder to form coherent thoughts so you didn’t bother to respond to him. Resting your head back on the door you closed your eyes as pain started to deep in to your limbs.

“Agent!” An urgent voice right in front of you. You open your eyes to see Loki knelt in front of you, his eyes taking in the sight of you. Dazed, hot, your breathing increased.

“How, how are you here Loki?” Tony restricted his magic in the compound while he earned his place in society.

“My dear y/n. If you think there is anywhere in the nine realms I couldn’t reach to get to you, you are so very mistaken” he reached a hand forward to cup your face.

“NO!” You shot up and tried to back across your room, anywhere to get some distance from him. His proximity was sending your body into overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend his words. Was this the drug? Making you see and hear things? “Loki you can’t be here. The mission went wrong. Hydra, drugged us. It’s bad. I can’t… you can’t…” your eyes fluttered and your legs faltered as a wave of heat came from your core.

In a second Loki was beside you, catching you as you fell. You cried out as his body made contact with yours. Part pain, part desperate need. Loki couldn’t wait any longer, his palm touched your forehead and he dove in to your memories. A sigh escaped him as he realised why you were trying to escape him.

“Y/n, I am here. You have nothing to fear. It would be my honour to stay with you, foolish mortal” a smile tugged his lips “I will not stop until you are cured, and I can’t guarantee I will after that either”

Your eyes fluttered open as you tried to take in his words. “I…” that was all he allowed before his lips crashed in to yours. I’m an instant heat burned through you with the power of a thousand suns. No pain, just need and fulfilment. This is what you needed. He is what you needed.

A moan escaped your lips as fingers caress your scalp, tugging your head to align you more perfectly with his mouth. His sinful, achingly beautiful mouth. You could come apart right now. A tiny voice in the back of your barely functioning mind started to whisper dark thoughts, telling you this wouldn’t work. No one else has managed to pleasure you fully, you’re broken.

Loki couldn’t sense your hesitation. He needed to silence it. After months of yearning, never daring to risk their treasured friendship, he finally had you. Upon seeing the state of the other avengers on their return he knew he had to find you. He couldn’t lose you.

His mouth left yours and blazed a trail down your neck, stopping to nip and suck at your pulse point, pulling a ragged moan from your throat and silencing all voices in your head. Your fingers dove in to his hair and pulled him closer. Still half collapsed in to each other on the floor he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ground in to him as moans spilled from your lips. Loki intended to lay you on the bed but it was too much for him. He slammed you in to the wall, teeth latching on to your neck as his hand found your hardened nipple beneath your suit and rolled it between his thumb and finger.

You cried out, core tightening as you felt yourself close to cumming already. Gods how you wanted him, needed him. You had never felt like this before. He groaned as his hips rocked in to you. “Gods y/n, you feel perfect against me. I need to touch every part of you, taste all of you” with a wave of his hand your clothes melted from your body. “Perfection” he said as he looked down at you, still wrapped round his waist. Your head back and eyes closed in pure bliss. The pink tint to your skin brought him back to reality, he needed to save you.

His hands gripped you tightly as he spun round and placed you on the edge of the bed. With no time to think about your new position he dove between your thighs, mouth latching on to your clit and sucking hard. The force of it slammed in to your nerves and had you screaming out, back arched in pure pleasure. You had never felt anything close to this before, even from your own hands. His attack on your clit didn’t let up as he slid 2 fingers into your pussy, curling to find your spot and pumping relentlessly. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, not enough air in your lungs to even scream out as an orgasm ripped through your body with enough force to bend your backwards.

When you finally came down you gasped for air. Your foggy brain trying to work out what happened, how it happened. Blinking back to reality you looked down at Loki still sat between your legs looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“How… how did you do that? Is it the drug?” You asked.

He looked at you confused. “I’m unsure what you mean Y/n. Has no one done this to you before?”.

You shook your head. “Not like that, no one’s ever made me cum Loki” you looked away and started to try to cover yourself from embarrassment. He took your hands to stop you. As he did another wave of heat started to build, the drug wasn’t done with you yet. You whimpered and Loki realised your pain.

“Mortal men cannot comprehend the goddess that you are Agent. It seems you have been waiting for me for far too long…”. He climbed up your body, his hand sliding into your hair and…..

And I’m a really mean writer! Do I carry on?!

[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."

[fredwkong]

Virgo Season: Blaine

Blaine just wanted this long nightmare of a conference over. There were still events on the schedule, but there were only a few of Pastor Blanco’s adherents left at the Astra Hotel. The incident in the conference hall had confirmed for the few remaining normal people that ordinary men were being transformed into depraved freaks.

Blaine had known for over a week now. That was why he hadn’t been attending any events. He had watched his friend, Spencer, become infected by whatever force was changing the men in the Astra.

Blaine and Spencer had been evangelists in Houston their whole lives, managers of adjoining branches in the movement. Friends since childhood, it had just made sense that they came to a conference as important as Pastor Blanco’s together and had rooms next to each other. They shared meals and compared notes on the proceedings after the events. It was a joke between them that Blaine and Spencer were closer to each other than either of them were to their wives.

The difference between them was that Spencer was much more aggressive about evangelising. From the instant that the freaks had first appeared in the Astra Hotel, Blaine had known they were beyond help, not worth the time and effort to save. But Spencer had doggedly persisted, striking up conversations with the youngest, most impressionable-looking queers whenever he could. It had seemed harmless, so Blaine hadn’t said anything.

But one morning, Spencer walked out of his room in leather pants. He had just said they were “comfortable,” but the Spencer Blaine knew would never have worn something like that. And he’d had what looked like a tattoo peeking out from his shirtsleeves.

That night, Spencer had begged off their usual debrief of the day’s events. Blaine had noticed he’d seemed uncomfortable during a bunch of the presentations, but didn’t want to ask about it. Instead, still in those tight leather pants, Spencer had strutted out of Blaine’s hotel room and gotten in the elevator, headed God knows where.

The next morning, an unrecognisable leatherman had stepped out of Spencer’s room, and Blaine had just known, with cold certainty, that this man had been Spencer before.

Since then, Blaine had barely left his room. He had tried to move up his flight, even considered driving back to Houston, but he couldn’t bring himself to commit. What if he could still do something to save Spencer? Blaine had never put much stock in exorcisms or purification rituals, but something dark and supernatural was clearly happening here.

Surfing the internet, Blaine had stumbled on some kind of strange ritual meant to purify someone who had lost themselves to false worship. After days of little sleep and intense anxiety, Blaine was willing to try anything.

Just as he collected the items he would need and began to steel himself to leave his room and knock on Spencer’s door, a note was pushed under Blaine’s door. He went and picked it up.

Miss u man. Can we talk? —Spence

Spencer—Spence—answered his door at Blaine’s first knock. It was midafternoon, and he seemed to be dressed down, compared to when Blaine had last seen him. Loose button-up shirt open to his toned belly, sleeves rolled up to show intricate forearm tattoos, looser leather pants. Blaine found himself cataloguing Spence as he followed the man into his hotel room. He had something of Spencer’s gait, his height and age, but Spence took up space. He was all angles and sex appeal, unlike Spencer, who women had always described as safe and cuddly. Unlike Blaine, for whom the compliment had always been that he was “conscientious.”

“What’s up?” said Spence in a deeper, louder voice than Blaine was used to, sitting down on the bed and spreading his legs. “I feel like it’s been ages since I saw you. Did getting a few days off from the convention help?”

It was now or never. Blaine flung a handful of salt in Spence’s face, opened his Bible to the marked passage, and started to read aloud. His hand shook so much that half the salt poured down his own clothes.

Spence looked down at himself, brushing salt grains off his shirt. “What the hell, dude? Is this, like, some roleplay thing?” He suddenly smirked. “Ooh, like an uptight evangelist getting seduced by a hot, hedonistic leatherman? That sounds pretty hot.”

Blaine tried to tune Spence out and keep reading. It was hard. Spence laid himself out on his mattress, as if he was bound spreadeagle. He seemed to know exactly how to pose himself to show off his thick, hairy chest through the gap in his shirt. He grinned up as Blaine kept reading.

“Father,” Spence said, “are you sure you wanna preach to me? I got a sermon you might like, too.” He thrust his hips a bit, showing off a thick bulge.

Why was Blaine’s mouth watering? He refocussed on reading. He knew these words off by heart, they were automatic. He’d missed Spence so much this last week. Instead of trying to exorcise him, he wanted to give the shorter man a hug. He wanted to let his hands run down Spence’s body, to that tight ass in his leather pants. Give that bulge a squeeze, maybe a lick…

It was so warm in this room. Still reading from his Bible, Blaine efficiently stripped off his dress shirt. He and Spence had seen each other like this back when they were roommates in college. Anyway, Spence seemed to appreciate the view, biting his lip as Blaine bared his body. It was normal, just a step in the process. Soon, Blaine would have Spence back to normal.

“Damn, Father, when’d you get those tattoos?” Spence asked. “Looking more like a Daddy than a Father.”

Confused, Blaine glanced away from the page, still speaking the words aloud. His arms holding up the Bible looked unfamiliar. Muscular, coated in hair, and covered in tattoos. As Blaine began to speak the next verse, he watched the transformation push further up his biceps. They rounded out with thick muscle, a layer of fine black hair, and an interlacing network of tattoos.

Spence was looking at Blaine like he wanted to eat him alive. Why was Blaine the one changing? Why was he still reading? Blaine tried to stop, but the words continued to flow. Horrified, he flung the Bible away, but still continued to recite the verses from memory.

The tattoos and muscle continued to spread, filling out Blaine’s shoulders as thick hair grew in his armpits, spreading a virile, masculine scent as Blaine sweat in the heat. His chest and belly bulked up with muscle and fat. His reciting voice deepened as the change rushed up his neck and over his head. His face became more masculine as piercings appeared in his brows, his hair receded, and wide gauges appeared in his ears.

His pants felt so tight. Blaine found himself unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down his growing legs, watching in horror as the tattoos followed the muscles and hair right down to his ankles. Hadn’t he been wearing underwear before? Why was he commando? Why was his thick cock getting hard?

Blaine rested a hand at the base of his cock as he kept on reciting. He wanted to run right out of the Astra Hotel, but found his feet rooted to the spot. He couldn’t even control his face enough to cry or grimace, just continued to blankly recite the Bible at Spence.

Spence flipped around on the bed, presenting his leather-clad ass to Blaine as he watched the transformation over his shoulder. “Yes, Daddy,” he said, giving his ass a slap to try and encourage Blaine. “No need for an annoying church controlling you when all you gotta worship is this ass.”

Had Blaine somehow turned his ritual on himself? He couldn’t help but agree with Spence that the church could be pretty controlling, plus Spence did have a pretty nice ass. Blaine found himself drooling at the sight. It wasn’t that weird. He and Spence had been so close all their lives, and Spence had always been such a showoff sex fiend. It was what had gotten Blaine out from under the thumb of the church back in college…

Something about that thought didn’t feel right, but it all seemed correct in Blaine’s memories. Being Spence’s roommate had unlocked thoughts and feelings for Blaine that he’d never known he had. His sexual life, spiritual independence, their shared love for leather, it had all come from college.

Blaine ground out the next verse, shifting his footing as he started to stroke his big cock at the sight of Spence’s hot ass presented just for him. He was almost done the recitation. Why had he decided to roleplay this again? He’d just wanted a break from the kink conference, and a chance to have his husband of twenty years all to himself.

Finally, Blaine finished reciting the Bible verses. All that time spent memorising the Bible back in his misspent youth definitely helped this kind of roleplay. Fully “corrupted” by Spence, transformed into Daddy instead of Father, Blaine threw himself onto the bed and yanked Spence’s pants down with a single motion of his strong, tattooed arms. Spence moaned as Blaine dove into his ass, eating him out with the passion of a demon.

After they’d both cum all over the sheets, Blaine and Spence lay next to each other. “You ready to head back down, babe?” Spence asked. “I think Dan’s hosting a dom/sub workshop in the conference hall.”

“That sounds fuckin’ awesome,” Blaine slurred, half asleep. “Go find our caps.”

His husband always had the best ideas. He loved Spence so much.

Click here to see all of Virgo Season.

If you feel inspired, write a story set at the Astra Hotel and post it @ me to join in. Help me celebrate my birthday by turning more conference attendees into geared up gay kinksters.

[crazylittlejester]

Uh, here! Have a little story!

~~~~~

"This would be easier if you'd sit still."

Wild curled his fingers into the fallen log he was sitting on as the Captain once again brought the saltwater-soaked rag up to his reddened ear. A pair of brand-new earrings with bloodied posts sat on the bark next to him. "I'm trying," he said, wincing and pulling back again. In lieu of a fight-or-flight response, he shifted in his seat and occupied himself by readjusting his hair band. "Why's it have to burn so much, though?"

Wars sighed and set his rag back in the bucket. He gave Wild's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Because it's killing the infection. Let's see how we're looking now." He shifted his hand to the back of Wild's head, who in turn leaned forward. With his other hand, Wars pressed gently against the back of the miniscule hole in Wild's ear. He winced sympathetically when more blood and puss oozed out. He fished the rag out of the bucket and resumed his work.

Wild didn't even know Legend was around until he climbed over the log and sat down, his back leaning against it. Legend looked over at the sparkling (albeit gross) earrings, then up at Wild's feverish ears, and folded his arms. "This is why we don't have nice things," he huffed.

Wild shrugged. "What did you expect me to do with them?" he asked, gritting his teeth as Wars soaked more of the disinfectant down into the wound.

"Sorry," Wars muttered, not looking away from the infected piercing as he dipped his rag into the bucket again.

"I guess I just expected you to, I don't know, switch them around like anyone else would???" Legend sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I certainly didn't expect you to just jab them through your cartilage. Go figure."

"Well, I thought that they would all look nice together!" Wild had pulled his hair over the front of his shoulder, weaving small braids into the tips. "And how else are you supposed to pierce your ears?"

Wars paused, looking Wild dead in the eyes. He spoke with crisp (almost sharp) enunciation. "You're supposed to make sure everything's clean. And that you keep it that way." Wild gulped and nodded, and Wars resumed.

Legend chuckled and leaned back, arms draped over the log behind him. "I guess we should just be relieved that you failed to convince Sailor to let you pierce his ears! I doubt he'll ever go for it now, though."

"I think you'd be surprised," Warriors added off-handedly, still fixated on the task at hand.

"But I mean, still, didn't you have to keep your original piercings clean?" Legend asked, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Or did you just let them fester so long they stabbed over in self-preservation?"

"I dunno." Wild shrugged, now braiding the smaller braids together. "I've had earrings for as long as I can remember." Legend nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"There. I think that's all of it, at least for now." Wars dipped his rag in the salt water one last time, now wiping down the earring posts. "Will you want help getting these back in?"

"I've got it, thanks though." Wild slid them back into his ears, wincing only slightly. "Seriously though, thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me yet," Wars said, as he began gathering all his things. "We'll have to do this several more times, I'm sure." He tried to put on a sympathetic smile, as Wild visibly drooped.

"Well, you won't be receiving any more earrings, that's for sure." Legend stood up and stretched, pretending to ignore Wild's dramatic and betrayed gasp.

"Surely you jest? Surely I've learned my lesson??" Wild clasped his hands pleadingly, batting his eyelashes and pouting.

"Nope, don't wanna hear it," Legend said, turning and walking back to camp. "You can't be trusted. From now on, you're only getting earcuffs, and those little clasp-ons they make for small children."

Legend let out a yelp of laughter as Wild came up and shoved him from behind, and tried to retaliate before they both took off running and laughing; shouting biteless threats and accusations all the while. Wars shook his head and smiled, following behind them.

~~~~~

So, uh, all this to say: keep yapping! Regardless of how involved I am with LU (my hyperfixations have been varying WILDLY lately), your posts always brighten my feed! Thank you!

THANK YOU FOR THE LITTLE STORY I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! This would absolutely happen to poor Wild

also im glad you like my yapping, i will continue to do so

[loquaciousferret]

Bad People

Summary: A stroke of fate leads one of your trading partners in the QZ to your front door one night, could it lead to something unexpected?

Pairing: Joel Miller X Female Reader

Content Warnings:  alcohol, established age-gap, SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, facial, cumplay? Maybe more READ AT OWN RISK 

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: More Joel thots and a serious praise kink going on...? Anyways...

As always, not canon timeline or events. Joel aged maybe 40, 45?, but dialogue references it being 20 years into the outbreak. 

NSFW under the cut do not press keep reading if you are a minor pls thx!

“We got to stop runnin’ into each other like this, darlin’.” The cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth wobbled as his lips turned up into a smirk.

He was right. This was the 4th or 5th time this month, and the 2nd time just this week that the pair of you had traded. You didn't answer, just tutting and shaking your head, looking down shyly at your feet. The way he talked to you pleased you a little bit, but you're sure he's like this with everyone.

“You should be more careful.” He frowns. “You’re lucky it was me on the other end of that setup. Could’ve been bad people. There's lots of em around here”

You looked up to meet his eye before screwing your nose up at him playfully. “You are one of the bad people around here.”

His smirk only widened at your remark, his eyes sparkling just a fraction more.

“I can be, if that’s what gets ya goin’…” He took a draw of his cigarette, gaze intense as he released the puff of smoke into the space between you.

You feigned disgust at his remark, clicking your tongue but couldn't help yourself from smiling again as you met his eye, “Goodbye, Joel.”

You shot a look over your shoulder as you left the alleyway and stepped into the street, pleased to find his eyes still fixated on you. A coy smile is sent his way and then a passing truck and a horde of guards pass between you. Once they’ve moved on, he’s gone, retreated into the shadows at the other end of the alley no doubt.

You had been trading with Joel Miller for nearly 6 months, he was a prolific smuggler with access to goods you didn’t even know still existed. In return, you had your own ways of sourcing his vices, cigarettes, alcohol, pills, small items easy enough to steal for someone as small and unassuming as yourself.

Illicit trading within the QZ operated in a variety of ways, one of the most common being through encoded notes or messages left in public places. And Joel was right, it could be bad people at the end of them, or perhaps worse, it could be undercover guards weeding out rule breakers. But often, the goods were worth the risk. And more and more frequently of late, you were finding Joel at the end of these messages.

You found there was something trustworthy about his eyes, despite a hardened and threatening exterior, and the bulges of multiple weapons in his jeans, his jacket pockets. You got the sense he had a soft spot for you and that always came in handy in regards to a good price for trading.

You traveled the short distance to your makeshift home within the QZ, a relatively quiet street and certainly one of the less dilapidated buildings. You knew you were lucky to have this place compared to the living conditions of some friends you’d made over the years here.

You had front door access up a short flight of stairs and fairly large windows, facing towards the centre of the town. You had managed to fabricate wooden shutters that you used for privacy and safety. Unlocking the door and crossing the threshold, you breathed out and released tension you hadn’t noticed you were carrying. Even within the QZ it was a dangerous world, for no one moreso than a single woman. You weren’t naive and knew that whilst living in the QZ kept you save from infected, there were fates worse than that.

You struck a match and lit the candles that surrounded the living area, the end of October meaning shorter days, night was quick to fall and curfew rapidly approached.

You began to empty your heavy pack, you had done a number of supply runs today, some through the legitimate channels. Food, soaps, a perfume for which you had swapped nearly an unjustifiable quantity of ration papers, a very specific red wine courtesy of Joel, which you had wanted for your birthday coming up, and a novel. You stowed the rest of this away in the right places and settled in to the sofa with the book, curling into a blanket that you have had since before the outbreak.

Curfew came and went with all of the city sounds ceasing, replaced only by the occasional stomp of guards patrolling the street.

You hadn’t realised you had drifted off whilst reading until you were sharply awoken by banging on the door. You leaped into action mode, reaching under the sofa for a baseball bat that you stored there. As you creeped towards the door there was another round of banging, and your mind whirred with possibilities. If it was FEDRA they would have shouted and said so. Could it be a friend? You weren’t sure. A possibility you hadn’t considered, was looking through the peep hole and seeing… Joel?

You kept the baseball bat gripped in one hand, breaking all rules and common sense about personal safety to unlock the door with the other. His eyes widen in surprise momentarily and you realise that he hadn’t been seeking you out, he had just knocked on any door. As you registered this realisation he pushed past you into the house.

He slammed the door behind himself, locking every bolt rapidly as if he was familiar with the apartment. He wasn’t, of course, but this is the kind of confidence and self-assuredness with which Joel completes every action. He proceeds to a small chink in the wooden shutters over the windows, sweeping up and down the street. Satisfied, he turns to you.

Eyes flickering between your face and the bat still clutched in your right hand, he smirks, “You gonna hit me with that?”

“I-oh.” You let out a breath of laughter and tossed the bat onto the soft sofa. “I guess not.”

“I was just looking for someone stupid enough to let a stranger into their house, I got lucky.” He explained, confirming your suspicions that he hadn’t known this was your place.

You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing anyway. Is someone after you?”

“No one dangerous,” He responds “Just FEDRA. I won’t have brought any trouble to your door. They won’t find me, idiots can barely track down their own heads.”

You smile at him.

“But seriously, what I said earlier about you needing to be more careful. ‘s true. Would you just let any old crazy person in off the street who needs your help.”

“You aren’t just any old crazy person.” You smiled. “Devil you know, and all that?”

He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, your eyes fixed on the strong arm flexing under his thin jacket.

“Listen, uh…” He shifted on his feet and his ever confident appearance faltered slightly. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I promise I’ll pay you back fairly-“

You were nodding before he finished the question. Of course you would let him stay. You did trust him, despite not really knowing him. And you didn’t want to see him caught or hurt by the guards. His business benefitted you, too. There was a net gain to helping him. But more than that, you found yourself intrigued and almost excited at the prospect of having someone in your home like a normal old day.

“It’s no trouble, really.” You said sincerely, and his eyes expressed relief. “You’ll just have to me owe me one.”

“Anythin’, honestly.” He responded.

“Take a seat.” You urged him, picking up the baseball bat and sliding it back underneath the sofa. “Are you hungry?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t ask you to waste your food.” He shook his head.

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged.

You sat opposite him in an armchair. You had better furniture than many people, mismatched but relatively clean and comfortable. You watched him as he collected a lighter and cigarettes from his pocket, raising an eyebrow when he looks back at you in confusion.

The penny drops and he asks, “Can’t I smoke in here?”

You consider him for a moment over the top of your book. “I guess so.” You offer, but he’s replacing them back into his pocket already. You realise you had made a mistake, then. You recognised a knowing look in his eyes, he knew you weren’t happy with the smoking and yet you had said yes to him anyway. A glint in his eye was questioning what else you might say yes to. You blush as your train of thought continues.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension between the two of you which you had felt rising. “So, why the wine? You hosting dinner parties these days or somethin’?”

You laugh a little at the suggestion, both knowing the answer. “Nope, I’ve got a big birthday coming up.”

“That right?” He raised an eyebrow. “How old?”

“Guess.” You shot back, folding the corner of your page and setting it on the coffee table.

“Ah…” He tilted his head. “No, I’m not falling into that trap.”

You leaned towards him and put on a theatrical whisper, “Twenty-five”

He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah, ancient.”

“On Wednesday.” You added.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday. What���s the big deal about another year in this place.”

You rolled your eyes. “25? Remember? It’s pretty much all I’ve known.”

A sharp intake of breath from Joel has you pondering. You’ve never been good at knowing other people’s age, but you imagine he has 15 years on you at the very least. He most likely lived a life he remembered well before this, unlike you, who only has faint fragments from your early childhood.

“How old are you?” You asked.

“Old enough to be your father.”

His tone was laced with something unfamiliar. You tore your eyes away from him and returned them to your book. Fine, if that’s how he wanted to play it, you thought. But something about how he held your gaze when he said it made you think he wasn’t expressing disgust or disinterest at all, it was more like a test.

“You live alone?” You ask.

“Why?” His eyes narrowed.

You sigh, “Just making conversation.” You muttered back.

“Yes.” He confirms. “You?”

You gestured around the apartment. “Just me. After..” You trailed off.

He nodded knowingly. “Yeah.”

Details were never needed. Everybody had lost most of those close to them. People with remaining family from before were few and far between and very very fortunate. You weren’t one of those fortunate few and Joel’s entire character made it clear that neither was he. He was out for himself, only. Maybe that could work to your advantage.

“Well, listen. Do you want to share that bottle?” You asked, tentatively. “Today’s Saturday and you need somewhere to stay. Better than me celebrating alone on a weeknight.”

“Don’t see why not.” He says.

Before you could stop yourself, the bottle was empty and you had loosened up. Probably to a degree more than was wise. At some point you had moved from your armchair to occupy the sofa alongside Joel, there had been a reason but you had never proceeded to move away again.

Something about it felt so natural, so normal, like being in the company of a friend. You had even extracted a few laughs from him.

You were watching him, not expectantly, just lost in your thoughts and his deep brown eyes when he cleared his throat and you realised just how close to him you were, warmth radiating from him, a rich musky scent, all contributing to the somewhat magnetic force you felt acting upon yourself.

“It’s been a while.” He said.

You didn’t know what he was referring to. A while since what? Since he drank wine? Since he shared a night like this with another human being? Since…

His mouth latching onto yours interrupted your train of thought. His kiss was hungry, but not desperate, it remained powerful and dominant, just like the energy Joel permanently exuded.

You lifted your hands to tug lightly at the curls at the back of his neck, tilting your head up and deepening the kiss in the process. He turned to face you more fully, a strong arm reaching round to wrap around your middle. And with one movement, that same arm manoeuvring you onto his lap. The kiss breaks for the first time and you pull away ever so slightly to look at him. The sight staring back at you is the most attractive thing you think you have ever seen. Pupils dilated, broad chest rising and falling rapidly as he takes shallow breaths. You feel something growing in his jeans at the place your body connects to his. The affect you were having on him after just briefly making out gave you confidence.

“I’ve wanted you, for such a long time,” He whispers into you as he pulls you closer again, hot breath tickling your neck, your ear, as he flicks out his tongue and nibbles your earlobe. “Tonight I’m finally going to have you.”

You can’t stop an audible whimper escaping and you feel his smirk in return. Of course, you had messed around with other young men in the QZ, friends and such, but never had you felt attraction as deeply as you did to Joel in this moment. Joel knew what he wanted and how to get it. There was nothing awkward or fumbling about this like your previous encounters.

You pressed your lips to his again, rolling your lower half into him. His firm hands gripped your hips and his fingertips lightly grazed the skin as your top started to ride up. His touch was magic, the way in which he managed to be simultaneously so powerful yet remain gentle was expert.

He broke the kiss again, his voice husky as he questioned, “You gonna show me to your room or do you want me to take you right here, beautiful?”

You couldn’t speak, just hopping off of his lap in response and taking one of his large hands in yours to lead him to the bedroom at the back of the apartment. The corridor, only a few feet long, had never felt like such a long walk due to the anticipation that was reaching unmanageable levels inside you.

You entered the room and Joel closed the door behind you, plunging the room into darkness. Spinning you round by your wrist to face him, he began stripping the clothes from your body whilst kissing you, quickly taking your sweater off over your head. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt in return, but he quickly took over, pushing your hands lower to deal with his belt buckle as he tore off his forest green button-down. You successfully undid his buckle and unzipped his jeans, slipping your hand inside to press against the hardened bulge inside his boxers.

A low groan escapes his lips as you apply further pressure, palming his cock as it continues to harden further.

“Don’t tease me baby, you won’t like where it gets you.” He says, as he pushes you gently onto the bed.

You can’t make out his features in the darkness but his tone paints a picture of that signature smirk that is making you grow wetter by the second. He pulls your bottoms from your legs and you hear them land somewhere across the room, before doing the same with his own. His hands widen your thighs and you feel the weight of the bed shift as he positions himself between your legs. You reach your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, and he uses this as an opportunity to snake an arm around your back and unclasp your bra.

It drops to the floor to reveal your breasts and hardened nipples, which he teases lightly with his thumbs, continuing to kiss you.

“Isn’t this a pretty sight.” he mumbles as he leans back, taking you in as much as he could in the low light before attaching his mouth to your nipple, sucking and nibbling lightly, eliciting gasps from you.

You feel yourself rolling your hips towards him, finding his thigh and whining at the lack of attention your lower half was receiving from him.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks, gripping your hips and pinning them onto the bed.

He fulfils your request anyhow, gently rubbing you through your underwear as he focussed his attention once again on your breasts. kneading one in one hand whilst balancing his weight on his elbow, and continuing to use his tongue on the other, sloppy kissing and suction on your nipple and intermittent biting that had you whining through gritted teeth.

You were sure he could feel your arousal, heat and wetness permeating through the thin material of your underwear, letting him know the effect his teasing was having on you.

“J-Joel.” You gasped, your tone not far from begging. “Please.”

He obliged at last, “Only cause you asked me so nicely,” He whispered into your skin, kissing and sucking your breasts, your throat, your neck, your ear.

Joel was consuming every single one of your senses, intensifying the pleasure you felt when he finally inserted a finger into you. You felt as though you were practically dripping all over him, malleable and ready for whatever he might give you. He groaned softly as he curled his finger inside you, pulling it out painstakingly slowly to replace it with two this time.

You let out a quiet moan, biting your lip to try and hold back the sounds of your pleasure, not wanting to let him see how much this act alone was affecting you.

“Let me hear you, baby.” He said, as if reading your mind. “Show me how much you like to be touched.”

You let yourself go now as he picked up his pace, curling his fingers hard and fast against that spot inside you that had your toes curling. As he continued this, his thumb found its way to your clit and he rubbed slow circles into it.

“Oh, Joel…” You gasped, twisting the bedsheets in your fists either side of you. “I want you to fuck me Joel, please Joel I- ah” You cut yourself off with another moan as he inserted a third finger, stretching you out and increasing the pace and force with which he massaged your clit.

“Baby, the way you beg so nicely has me tempted. But I need you to come before I fuck you.”

You nodded and reached a hand out towards him, feeling for him with your eyes closed. Your hand connected with his shoulder and you tugged him towards you gently, keen to be enveloped in his warmth, his scent. He reached his lips down to yours and your moans escaped into the kiss. Your eyes shot open when he removed his fingers from inside you and then his whole hand from where it had been working at you.

He pulled away from the kiss and replaced his mouth with his fingers, which you sucked instinctively, interpreting his wordless request.

He moaned as you swirled your tongue around his fingers and tasted yourself and you did too, closing your eyes and releasing your sounds of pleasure.

“Jesus…” He sighed contentedly

He returned his hand to your core and focused entirely on your clit this time, pinching gently before rubbing circles rhythmically. You were close to orgasm already, your deep attraction to him and the power he exercised over you all encouraged your release quicker than usual.

It didn’t take long for his practiced attention on your clit, coupled with his low praise in your ears, when you felt it building inside you.

You arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against his hand to increase the friction however possible.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered in your ear. “Show me how good it feels.”

“You gonna come for me, good girl?” He breathed.

Your face was screwed up in pleasure, your breathing shallow and erratic as your orgasm built, tension growing more and more.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart.” He urged.

You came hard with noises between moans and wails escaping your lips. Joel’s pace didn’t falter as you enjoyed your orgasm, writhing your lower body against him before you collapsed onto the bed, spent of the energy needed to hold yourself up.

He pressed a wet kiss onto your cheek before moving from where he lay alongside you to position himself over you. He took your hand and guided it to his erection, which you palmed gently, feeling its size again. He sighed at the sensation of your small hands grasping him through the fabric, but he had little patience for this moment and quickly moved on to removing them, pulling them down his thighs and allowing his cock to spring free. You resisted literally letting your jaw drop as you saw him bare and felt the full weight and size of him. Definitely bigger than anything you had experience with.

He took a hold of himself, guiding his tip down to rub it through your folds, causing you to shudder slightly with your clit still sensitive from your orgasm. He nudged the tip to your wet hole and you bit your lip as he entered you, slowly at first until he was about halfway in before thrusting himself into you as deep as he could. At this, you couldn’t keep your noise to yourself, releasing a desperate and tortured moan.

He took this noise as a sign to continue at this pace, dragging out of you slowly but thrusting in with force, hitting the deepest parts of you.

You moaned and whined and could barely catch a breath, his thrusts picking up in pace as he used your body for his pleasure.

“God, Joel, yes,” You say, but you are sure it comes out unintelligible. “Please fuck me like that Joel it feels so good oh my god.”

He grunted in response and continued, taking one hand and giving attention to your clit as he fucked you relentlessly, all you could do was babble words of praise and thanks and his name, rolling from your tongue as though you were addressing a deity.

“You’re so tight.” He groans through gritted teeth, bringing his body closer to yours to kiss at your skin as he fucks you.

You sense he won’t last much longer when he slows down his thrusts, and your suspicions are confirmed when he asks “Where do you want my cum, beautiful?”

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. The look on your face as you do this is almost enough to push him over the edge, “Oh god.” He exclaims, pulling out of you in a rush. A playful look in your eyes as you laugh a little, still keeping your tongue out.

He grabbed your arms and manoeuvred you roughly onto the floor in front at the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the bed above you and you kept eye contact with him, wiggling your tongue as he pumped his cock in his hand.

He groaned as he watched you, you closed your eyes briefly and he scolded you.

“Keep them open.”

You did so, and with another few tugs of his wrist he was exploding all over your face, salty cum landing mostly on your outstretched tongue and inside your mouth but some more leaking onto your nose, cheeks, and chin.

You swallowed what was in your mouth and tongue as he kept his eyes fixated on you, deflating slightly and relaxing lower onto the bed. He reached out and used his thumb to wipe your face, collecting his spent load from around your face and guiding it towards your lips. You sucked on his thumb obediently, and he sighed, totally transfixed and holding your gaze throughout your entire performance for him.

With most of him cleaned up from your face you straightened up higher and he reached over to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

“You did fantastic.” He praised, and you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hand holding the back of your neck and his face pressed into your hair.

When he released you and lay backwards onto the bed, you got up and padded barefoot to your bathroom. You washed your face and rinsed your mouth out, eyeing yourself in the cracked mirror. Your hair was slightly pressed to your forehead with sweat and the rest of it was sticking out wildly. Your cheeks were dark with blush and you still hadn’t quite slowed your breathing down to normal. Yep, you looked like someone who had just been fucked hard.

You crept back to bed, floorboards creaking, collecting your underwear on the way and putting it on before sliding under the covers. He stood slowly and did the same, reaching out to pull you close towards him, attacking the top of your head, your forehead, your throat, your chest, with rapid kisses.

“Joel-“ You giggled, flattered with the kind of attention he continued to give you after the sex was over.

After a final kiss, he kept you close to him, inhaling from the top of your head, his breath tickling you.

You lay this way, content for a while, until something compelled you to speak. “Joel?” You said softly, your voice not quite a whisper, unsure if he was awake.

“Hm?” He responded, rubbing circles on your waist with his thumb where his arm was around you, holding you tightly to him.

“Are we going to do this again?” You asked shyly.

He exhaled with what might have been a small laugh. “Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re not gonna get rid of me now.”

You nuzzled into his neck and eventually, sleep took you. Nothing you could dream about would top the night you had just had with Joel.