#key hole surgery

[jude-us]

Hugs for trans men/mascs who can’t wear their binders now or ever. You’re still a man and ily.

*Bonus picture of a cis man looking hot and badass in a sports bra

[boygirlctommy]

ok but this animatic is gonna be so good if i actually make it

[bi-writes]

can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!

mail-order bride

your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.

maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).

you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.

you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.

"hello?"

a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"

you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.

"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"

"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."

you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"

"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"

"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.

you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.

you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.

you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.

it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--

"'ello?"

"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"

"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"

"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"

"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"

"he's...b-but someone said surgery."

"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"

you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."

johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"

"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.

"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."

"mrs. riley?"

your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.

"you can see him now."

you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.

he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.

"tha' an angel?"

you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."

you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.

"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"

"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"

"shit happens."

you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.

"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"

"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.

"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."

simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.

"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.

"then don't."

he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.

"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.

family.

he has a family.

"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.

"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.

he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.

for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.

will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?

the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.

[feminist-space]

"The 80-year-old communications engineer from Texas had saved for decades, driving around in an old car and buying clothes from thrift stores so he’d have enough money to enjoy his retirement years.

But as dementia robbed him of his reasoning abilities, he began making online political donations over and over again — eventually telling his son he believed he was part of a network of political operatives communicating with key Republican leaders.

In less than two years, the man became one of the country’s largest grassroots supporters of the Republican Party, ultimately giving away nearly half a million dollars to former President Donald Trump and other candidates. Now, the savings account he spent his whole life building is practically empty."

...

One 82-year-old woman, who wore pajamas with holes in them because she didn’t want to spend money on new ones, didn’t realize she had given Republicans more than $350,000 while living in a 1,000 square-foot Baltimore condo since 2020.

By the time a Taiwanese immigrant from California passed away from lung cancer this year at age 80, she had given away more than $180,000 to Trump’s campaign and a litany of other Republican candidates – writing letters to candidates apologizing for not getting donations to them on time because she was going into heart surgery. She had only $250 in her bank account when she died, leaving her family scrambling to cover the cost of her funeral.

And a 78-year-old, a widow who limited showers to save on her water bill and canceled her long-term care insurance, didn’t understand why the retirement savings her husband had left her was dwindling so quickly. After CNN reached out to her family, they learned that the woman gave more than $200,000 in donations to Democratic political groups and candidates.

...

Richard Benjamin, an 81-year-old from Arizona, believed he had been in personal communication with former president Trump through all the messages he was receiving.

At one point, he told his children the former president invited him to a luxurious reception at Mar-a-Lago. He had grown up on a farm and worried he would feel out of his element at such a fancy venue. But when he received what he described to his children as an invitation to be a VIP at a rally in Arizona, he was thrilled he would finally meet the former president himself. He started making travel plans and asking his sister-in-law if she would like to accompany him, since his wife had passed away in 2018.

Later, he told his son how angry he was that Donald Trump Jr. wouldn't call him back even though the former president’s son had sent Benjamin so many nice messages."

[girlsdads]

neurosurgery resident max the night before he’s scheduled to fly solo for the first time (he’s gonna be performing an awake craniotomy i decided), he can’t sleep bc he’s so anxious about doing everything right, normally he would jerk off to fall asleep but he’s like what if i accidentally jerk off too hard and my wrist is sore tomorrow and i fuck up someone’s actual brain

i lost the plot completely after this but lfg

he texts daniel who is also a surgical resident (he’s in trauma surgery so it’s still a precise field but more bloody and hectic and nobody he operates on is ever awake during it at least) and is like this sucks i need rest but i can’t sleep and i can’t jerk off bc i might sprain my wrist and then it will cramp tomorrow and i will stab my forceps into someone’s good brain tissue and daniel is like jeez max how hard do you jerk off lol. max is like *pouts, kicks his feet and pulls pillow over his face in frustration* dont make fun of me daniel this is very serious what do i do. daniel is like okay i’ll be there soon, be hard when i get there.

max is like what. but he’s honestly already at half mast from mentioning to daniel about jerking off and daniel is always taking care of him and max trusts him that he will actually help even if he has no idea what’s in store. there’s a little kernel of hope that maybe daniel means to get him off himself, but as max lays there hard and leaking as he waits for daniel to come over he tries not to get his hopes up even if what the fuck else would daniel say to be hard for.

daniel takes longer than expected to get to max’s apartment and by the time he finally arrives max is sweating and panting and about ready to tear his hair out if he doesn’t get to come or sleep or both. daniel approaches max’s bed (he has a key of course) and is stripping off his pants and underwear as he does (he keeps on his oversized hoodie from med school bc cozy), his cock is big and also getting hard and max hopes so much that daniel will wrap one of his lovely hands around max or maybe he will even grind his cock up against max’s and max can come that way.

max almost blacks out as daniel knee walks on the bed to straddle his hips and says softly tell me to stop if this isn’t ok, reaches back to spread himself open and lowers down to tease his hole over the soaked head of max’s cock. max is struck completely dumb as he feels daniel start to open around him, feels him already soft and wet and hot like he got himself ready beforehand because he was planning to do this for max.

daniel has barely sat all the way down on max’s dick before max can’t help but come right into daniel, bare and sloppy and perfect. when he’s done he makes grabby hands to daniel to get him to shimmy forward so he’s straddling max’s face, max is trying to hold his thighs and his hips and just grab him everywhere but daniel is like shhh baby you need these hands to be rested and gently holds max’s wrists and presses his hands down against the mattress by his sides, says be a good boy and keep them there for me, max nods because anything daniel, anything. daniel sits right down on max’s face and grinds on his tongue and his chin and his perfect nose until he comes all over max’s forehead and hair and a little on the pillows. daniel licks the come off max’s face then goes to the bathroom to clean himself out and comes back with a damp cloth to get the sticky remnants off max’s skin. daniel cuddles up to max after and max is asleep almost instantly, feeling safe and relaxed and happy.

the next day max nails his procedure, the patient does great and is recovering well in the PACU when his attending comes over and compliments the impeccable steadiness of his hands. max hopes the sickly fluorescent lighting overhead washes him out enough to hide his immediate flush.

max goes on to become one of the world’s leading neurosurgeons and daniel still sits on his cock whenever he can before max has a scheduled surgery the end.

[poppadom0912]

Hii! 🙋🏻‍♀️

I saw that you are accepting requests, can I request an imagine with Jay Halstead where he and the reader (a surgeon) don't get along very well and, as fate would have it, they both live in the same building. One night the reader discovers that there is a camera hidden in the lampshade that she got from a strange guy, so the guy threatens her and Jay protects her. 😅❤️

Sorry for my English.

Warnings: Stalking/pedo men, brief hospitals, small injuries, and swearing.

A/N: Now that my series is done, I can finally get to completing and putting out all these requests. I wrote this in school. And do not apologise for your English, it was perfect.

Life is stressful right now so I lowkey got carried away writing this because it's somehow nearly 3k words but please do enjoy this!!

You weren’t too sure when it all actually started but it was too late to reverse time now.

Growing up, there was no way to avoid the Halstead brothers because all the way throughout your childhood up until the age of eighteen, you all went to school together and outside, your mothers were near inseparable. You could never catch a break.

What made matters even more confusing was that you didn’t mind Will, on fact, the two of you were quite good friends. You tolerated Will and with both your combined loves for medicine, an inevitable friendship bloomed but even with this, you and Jay just could not get along.

The only time you ever found solace was when the two of you finally parted ways after high school. You remained in Chicago to become a doctor and later surgeon while Jay, he spontaneously decided to enrol to become an army ranger. Your shock could not be hidden.

With both brothers out your life, days were so much more simple. From time to time, you wouldn’t say it aloud but you missed Wil’s company but Jay, his absence almost made it as though he never existed in the first place. And yes, maybe that was a bit cruel but the genuine hatred you had at the mere thought of him or the sight of his face, it made you want to hurl.

And the rest was history. Even with the more recent parts being a bit more pleasant yet depressive, your pure hatred for him didn’t seem to wane.

*****

Fast forward a few years and this is how it all is: your father remained ever so absent, both mothers passed away several years ago, Pat died last year, you and Will worked together and you and Jay weren’t exactly civil.

Living in the same building, on the exact same floor and literal doors apart could only do so much damage.

Today had been a very, very long day. You had just been on shift for a double that had run over because of the complicated surgery that almost went sideways last minute. You were practically dead on your feet. You loved trauma surgery as much as the next trauma surgeon but you could go without blood and scalpels for the next few hours because sleep was calling your name like a siren song.

Upon Connor’s insistence, he drove you home because he expressed his fear of you sleeping on the train and never getting off.

Finally in your apartment building, you dragged your feet to your door, your keys almost missing the hole due to your sudden misalignment. Your mind was nearing haziness but with one final push, you were inside and collapsed on your bed.

Sleep was instant. It was expected but you also weren’t surprised when you knocked out and woke up randomly at two in the morning. You felt semi-rejuvenated but you could definitely sleep for longer.

Drowsily, you stripped out of your clothes, chucking them towards the basket before walking into the bathroom. Doing what you needed to do, you returned and searched for comfortable pyjamas that were good enough for this heat.

Standing half naked in your own bedroom in the apartment that you rented alone was a completely normal thing to do. Never in your life did you need to be paranoid or extra careful. You were in the comfort of your own home, so why was there the need to be riddled with anxiety.

Well, apparently you should’ve because as you pulled you cotton shorts on, rummaging through your draw for an oversized shirt, you caught a miniscule red dot. You were so tired you contemplated if it was a hallucination but a few minutes later, remaining in the same position, the nano dot was still there.

Diverting your attention to the suspicious dot, you threw on a random shirt but somehow, during the milliseconds your head spent under the shirt before it reappeared, the red dot disappeared.

Now you were on edge. Sleep didn’t come as easy this time.

In the morning, everything looked the same. Going around, you tried to look for anything that could’ve been tampered with but alas, everything was in tip top condition. Maybe you really were so out of that that you were delusional, it all really could’ve been a hallucination.

You had a few more hours before you needed to go back to work and considering the state of your empty fridge, grocery shopping seemed like a promising idea.

Your sweetening mood however quickly turned sour at the familiar sight of a certain detective standing down the hallway, walking in the same direction as you towards the buildings only elevator.

Sighing in disappointment, you readjusted the tote bag on your shoulders and walked ahead anyway. There was no way you were letting this man ruin your mood.

Being stuck in the elevator though, it did ruin your mood a little.

For once in your entire life though, Jay didn’t rile you up. He didn’t say anything nor did he even attempt to roll his eyes when he saw you. It was weird, he barely even acknowledged you.

And you hated to admit it, but you didn’t like it. As much as you despised the man, Jay acting as if you were a ghost was something that irked you. But obviously, you were never going to tell him that, it’d only boost his already enormous ego.

*****

“You look like a rat.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

You took it all back. Everything you said two days ago, you were taking it all back. Jay could rot and burn in hell and you still wouldn’t care.

Over the course of twelve hours, something must’ve changed because Jay’s renewed vigour was back and it was here to stay. You didn’t relish his silence long enough because the second he opened his mouth, your headache returned.

Next time, you were dragging Will and forcing him to escort you up to your apartment door because at least then he’d save you, he’d make this all much more bearable.

The sudden change in weather suited your mood, the rain mimicking your emotions that Jay was only half responsible for. The other half was a result of your newly achieved paranoia and anxiety that made itself known whenever you came home.

No matter where you searched or how many hours you slept, the red dot came and then disappeared again. It was annoying and it came to the point that you tried avoiding you bedroom especially as much as possible. To not be comfortable and safe in your own home wasn’t right.

Rolling your eyes, you fished your keys out of your bag and ignored whatever Jay was saying. You’d known him for so long that blocking out his voice had become second nature, it was something you did subconsciously.

You wished his apartment was before yours, that way at least you could have some peace but life worked in funny ways.

Stopping in front of your door, you were just about to unlock it when your body froze.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden change in your mood caught him off guard, your frozen body worrying him slightly. He might’ve shared your feelings of hostility but you were his older brothers best friend, which had to count for something.

Following your line of sight, Jay’s eyes hardened at the unlocked door, a slither of light leaking out from inside as the door sat ajar. You definitely locked it this morning, there was no doubt about it.

Maybe you had the right to be paranoid. Perhaps you should’ve acted on it sooner.

Not wasting another second, Jay pushed you behind him and drew his gun. With his shoe, he gently nudged the door open and began surveying the apartment bit by bit with practised precision.

You hadn’t seen the man in action for a while now, it was weird to see him so proper and serious.

With nothing out of place and all valuable belongings safe and sound, Jay deduced that for now, things should be fine but if need be, if anything was out of the ordinary, he was the first person you called.

And for the first time ever in over thirty years, you made Jay a promise.

*****

You kept to your promise. This was a matter you weren’t going to mess around with, even if it was with Jay.

You had just come out of the shower, hair dripping wet, shorts and an oversized shirt on because despite the rain it was still humid and the summer heat wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Stepping into the dark room, you started patting your hair dry with a towel and walked towards the lamp so there was at least some lighting. A dimly lit room made you feel less paranoid.

It was upon turning the lamp on though did your anxiety peak. This new height it reached making it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden.

Without even thinking of the consequences, Jay’s number was the first thing you found on your phone, his contact name pressed within seconds of your discovery.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you forced yourself to move at the sound of the door. This fear was almost paralysing, you didn’t even know what to make of all of it.

“What happened?” Jay’s concern was immediate. All you did was call him and he came over without question. Your call alone told him enough.

You stared at him wide eyed, words lodged at the back of your throat but they wouldn’t go any further than that. Remaining wordless, you simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards your room and he followed obediently.

Your bedroom was now back to pitch black; you turned the lamp off straight away because the pyjamas you wore left little for imagination. That trail of thought made you want to be sick.

Jay stood beside you; your hand still wrapped around his wrist tightly while your other still held the wet hair towel that you probably should put away. He surveyed the dark room, taking it all in and trying to poke out anything out of the ordinary.

It was only when you tugged on his wrist, his head turning down to you before following your line of sight and pointed finger towards your innocent looking lamp that idly sat on your bedside table.

But it turned out to be not so innocent after all. Jay immediately saw the red dot no matter its small size, he saw it straight away and alarm bells went off.

Gently prying your fingers off his wrist, Jay holstered his gun and strode towards the lamp, tilting the lamp shade as he fiddled with something underneath. It didn’t take long before he stood up to his full height with a small black square in his palm.

This all-escalated way too fast for your liking.

*****

Jay refused to let you see anything from what he told you was a camera; he wouldn’t let you see it even for a price but he did briefly talk about what he saw in very little detail. What he told you was more than enough to make you want to bleach your body in a bath and move out of state to a place no one would know you.

Jay also wasn’t one hundred percent confident in letting you return back to your apartment alone. That’s how you found yourself wrapped in a blanket sitting cross-legged on his sofa, hiding yourself and your body from the world. Even with your shirt and shorts on, you felt liked dying at the thought of a man staring you down with intentions all but pure.

Gosh, you wanted to be sick.

Slowly sipping some water from a cup Jay silently handed you, you tried relaxing, rotating your shoulders to try release any of the tension but you failed. Fidgeting with anything was the only way you were able to not focus on the conversation Jay was having on the phone in the next room over. He was probably most likely talking to someone else from Intelligence.

The rest of the night, well more very early morning really, Jay explained the plan about how Intelligence were going to go about this but it would all happen in the morning at an actual suitable time.

With much bickering, Jay forced you into his bed as he took the sofa. It was weird that this was the most civil and even most nicest interaction the two of you ever had in either of your lifetimes. You wouldn’t tell him this unless under a life-or-death situation, but you kind’ve liked it. When Jay wasn’t being such a bastard, he was actually kind of decent.

Goodness, thinking about him was not something you would’ve ever thought of doing before yet here you were, thinking about your childhood nemesis at work.

The morning was relatively fine sprinkled with bits of awkwardness. Jay forcefully drove you to work when you insisted on going in today despite his attempts of getting you to stay home. If you tried and told Ms Goodwin the truth, she was very likely to give you the day off. Your stubbornness didn’t wane though.

You shift was normal, going from boring and mundane to fast paced just how you liked it. Nothing changed and it was relieving to be surrounded by familiarity and some sort of routine, it was a big distraction from the mess waiting for you at home. You tried keeping yourself occupied at every moment because any second you got alone with your deprecating thoughts, you were for sure going to spiral to a dark place.

And you’d been doing a great job at keeping busy till a certain detective walked in through the ED doors.

From the corner of your eyes, nothing about him looked off but when you squinted and walked towards him, you could make out a bloody gash poking out from his ripped jacket sleeve.

Now, Jay being hurt at work was nothing new. In fact, it was to be expected and you’d never been too bothered by it unlike Will was whenever his injured brother walked in so casually like it was another normal Wednesday.

However, you knew what he was doing at work today and your concerns peaked to such a height that Will had no reason to be worried anymore; you took it all from him.

“What happened?” You tried to remain somewhat calm, schooling your face as you dragged his non-injured arm towards an empty treatment room. Internally, you were glad Will was in surgery otherwise he’d be smirking and laughing like a manic at the sight he was seeing, a sight he’d never even envision in his dreams.

“We found the guy.” Jay ignored your question, begrudgingly sitting down on the bed, rolling his eyes when you wouldn’t let him get up. “We arrested him. Platt’s booking him as we speak.”

And just like that, all the weights pushing you down under the ground dissipated and you were beyond relieved.

You hands faltered as they went to grab some gauze, your eyes looking up to see whether or not he was lying but the soft smile spread across his lips, you didn’t need to question his credibility.

Without thinking, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and interlocked around his neck. Instinctively, you squeezed him a little, eyes shut as you relished in the good news. For a while, the world around you didn’t exist before it all came rushing back.

Suddenly, you abruptly pulled back, eyes wide in shock as your actions sunk in. Pressing your lips together tightly, you avoided eye contact and went back to preparing the gauze and butterfly strips, maybe even some wipes to see the real extent of the damage your stalker inflicted onto Jay.

Jay huffed in amusement and you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head. All of a sudden, you felt the need to smother his god forsaken handsome face-

What the fuck? There was no way you just thought that.

“He looks worse than me, don’t worry.” Jay started again, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke, his eyes not moving from your face. “He was being a bit of a dick so I roughed him up a little. This little nick is nothing.”

And for once, you didn’t doubt the truth behind his words. You fondly rolled your eyes before going to clean his bicep that was no longer covered by his jacket.

“My saviour.” You smiled placatingly, making brief eye contact before breaking it. “What would I have done without you.”

And for once again, there was no sarcasm dripping from your words. Behind them lay mostly the truth and maybe a hint of your typically sarcasm but without his help, who knows what would’ve happened.

“All in a days work.” Jay’s face didn’t change, his expression not moving a single bit. For a reason beyond your medical and surgical knowledge, you blushed, cheeks randomly feeling flushed.

Maybe now with childhood rivalry forgotten and shoved aside, things between the two of you could get better.

[bad268]

Omg I just read your new kimi fic (with the chronically ill reader) and I love it so much! Soo literally anything else for kimi would be amazing (there's so little fics for him istg) but if its okay I'd love a figure skater reader (but like professional, world champion kind of skater) who's currently not competing cos she injured herself kinda badly (preferably smth to do with her acl but anything is fine) so she can't skate atm (like kinda Angsty but also fluffy, maybe kimi comforting reader or smth?)

Otherwise I'd also love same concept with figure skater reader and her and kimi going skating and like her teaching him or smth haha

Thanks so much in advance already <3

Go for the Gold (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Figure Skater! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! I'm glad you liked it <3 I may or may not have semi-based this on Sasha...)

Warnings: Drugs (pain meds)

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1040

Summary: Silver will have to do until you can get back on the ice.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

As if finishing second in the Olympics wasn’t a hard enough blow, you landed wrong during a practice jump and made a worse injury for yourself when you proceeded to compete on it. Yes, it wasn’t your main jumping leg, but that did not mean you didn’t stand on it during certain moves. And yes, silver was good, but when you set a world record in your program, maybe you set the expectations too high when you expected gold. Your teammate ended up getting gold. 

You just got back to your apartment in Italy after a medical appointment. Of course, you tore your ACL. And to make matters, worse, your boyfriend was out for testing all week. That just added salt to the wound.

Your parent dropped you off after you assured them you would be fine as you hopped up the stairs with your crutches in hand. You would not be able to get in for surgery for at least a week, so you had to suffer in pain for the next few days until the doctor scheduled you. 

You hobbled up to your door, trying to fish out your keys one-handed while simultaneously balancing on one leg. Usually, it would not be difficult, but you were still in pain and still felt the effects of the pain meds. It was a little harder than you remembered. You finally got your keys out, and of course, you dropped them.

“Can anything go my way for once?” You groaned to yourself as you tried to grab them. Just when you touched them, a hand came out to swipe them off the ground as another hand wrapped itself around your torso and pulled you toward the door that you just now noticed was open. You looked up at the person, dazed, to see Kimi holding you up. “When did youtube here?”

“Testing ended yesterday, I thought I texted you?” Kimi replied as he lifted you, grabbed your crutches, and carried you into the apartment. He carried you all the way to the common room where he set you on the sofa and handed you the remote. You took it from him with a glare as you pulled out your phone to show him no messages.

“Does it look like you texted me? No. You didn’t,” You snapped as you threw the remote to the side as you opted to stay on your phone. “Would’ve been nice to have you with me, but no, You were here chilling while I was getting drugged and x-rayed.”

“I must’ve forgotten to send it,” He muttered as he pulled out his own phone. Indeed, he did forget to hit send. He wanted to be upset at the attitude from you, but he’s been with you long enough to know that when you get hurt, you get mad. It’s never directly at him, moreso at yourself, but that did not mean it hurt any less. He knew the best way to go about this is to give you space for a while.

So he left you alone. As soon as you snapped at him, you felt bad, but you couldn’t follow him because he left your crutches against the far wall. You had to just sit there in the hole you dug and wait for him to come back. 

What felt like forever to you was more like an hour for Kimi. How did he know? Because he cooked you your favorite food (that he knew how to cook) as an apology. He went to hide away in the kitchen, so he could still keep an eye on you while also focusing on food. If you were still on the meds, you would be hungry after they wore off, he thought.

He was right because he peaked over to the common room when he heard rustling, and he saw you trying to stand up using the table. It was not nearly tall enough to provide adequate support, so you kept falling. He ran over to help support you, and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes when you noticed he was the one helping you.

“I’m sorry I’m being difficult, Kimi,” You whispered as you leaned into his shoulder and cried. ”It’s just a lot, and I didn’t plan on being injured, and I know I’m not the nicest when I’m injured, and I know I snapped at you-”

“And I know you’re sorry, and you don’t have to apologize,” Kimi chuckled as he cut off your rambling. Every time you got hurt, you would apologize profusely every time you snapped, but it became something he would look forward to. It usually means the initial pissy mood was gone until the (inevitable) next injury. “I made your favorite to cheer you up a bit? Are you hungry?”

“Are you a mind reader?” You gasped as you snapped your head up to meet his eyes. “Did you know I was craving it?”

“I just know you like to eat it when you’re feeling down,” Kimi consoled as he helped you toward the kitchen island to sit. Then, he went around to plate up your food. “It’s known to give you strength. Maybe enough to get you back on your feet sooner.”

“Oh, I wish,” You sighed as you began to eat the food. “This is amazing, Kimi! Who knew you could cook?”

“You’ve known I could cook for years since you taught me how to make it!” Kimi defended himself. “And what’s with the ‘I wish’? Something happened at the appointment?”

“Just that they can’t get me in until next week at the earliest,” You groaned as Kimi took his seat next to you. “Looks like you and I are gonna be attached, more than usual, for the foreseeable future. At least a week wait for the surgery, then a 9-month recovery period. Therapy won't start until at least a month post-op.”

“And I’ll be here the entire time,” Kimi comforted as you leaned into his side. He left a kiss on the crown of your head before whispering, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get the gold next time. You’ll come back stronger than ever. I think this is the start of your comeback story.”

~~~ Part 2 ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[randomfoggytiger]

What is so interesting and compelling about Gollian and David is that they can be so esthetically beautiful in many scenes BECAUSE of their imperfections. Their imperfections and flaws are what adds to their dimension: her teeth and gummy smile are generally "fixable" for Hollywood. His big nose, a little odd teeth, and injured eye that cause asymmetrical dilation and reflection are not generally traditional handsome Hollywood trademarks.

It's these little parts of the whole that add layers to their attractiveness, and then put together to reflect off one another, there is quite a complementary balance of appeal.

To this day, G has not fixed her teeth because she shouldn't have to, and that adds to her beauty of confidence. I wish more was made of actors and actresses who aren't plastic perfect and are some of the most attractive people on our screens because imperfection is beautiful.

I do agree, anon: their characteristics are what made them unique.

I will add: I never spotted DD's "messed up" front teeth (which he has since fixed) or wonky pupil, or even his too large nose; and I never noticed GA's less-than-Hollywood smile. Not for a long while, anyway. Perhaps I'm not perceptive enough. However, Hollywood agents/surgeons/whoever else would have, because they are marketing a project, a brand, and not a person. Not to mention: beauty standards were different then than they are now. Yes, there were a lot of surgeries; but the top models and stars still had "flaws" that marked them characteristically: farther apart eyes, asymmetrical eyes, off-set noses, etc. So, these two fit well into that crowd.

But Gillian's and David's attractiveness can't be denied, either: both have symmetrical faces, fit or slim bodies, and a full head of hair. Their features complement each other, and helped sell the The X-Files: her serious expression added dimension to her projected personality (and fit Scully) while his softer, larger, rounded features and squarer jaw were offset against her softly shaped, sharply defined ones (and added dimension to his projected personality; and fit Mulder.)

And, of course, David wasn't (seemingly isn't) the type to get serious work done unless he has two: namely, the two front teeth that pointed in "wrong" directions the majority of his career. (He still has two ear piercing holes he never uses, old tattoos he touches up, and sun burn damage, for example.) Gillian had massive insecurities in the 90s, but she never got her teeth fixed-- which is good, they gave her a distinct look-- or her cheek fat removed (which is good) or this or that filled in, etc. etc. I'm sure she has had maintenance work done since-- good for her: she is in the entertainment industry, and if that makes her feel confident, go on ahead-- but she keeps it low-key. I do wonder if that's because she's in England, and there isn't much obsession there with aging "Americanly" as there is here.

All in all... what a fun discussion! :DDDD

[jenny-in-a-jar]

One week since my Surgery

People liked hearing about my trans journey, so for those interested, here's my first week update to having vaginoplasty (one type of mtf bottom surgery).

Of course, I hope this helps any transfem interested in this surgery. But, I understand that other people will be curious. And that's ok! There's nothing wrong with curiosity. Just be respectful ❤️ which a lot of people been (and I block those who aren't)

No pictures but I will go get a bit graphic with my description so here's your warning before hearing more.

So first off some disclaimers. There's a lot of variety in procedure and treatment when it comes to vaginoplasty. For example, I live pretty close to the hospital I had the surgery at which influenced how early they let me go home. So, my experiences are definitely not universal.

So, I had breast augmentation at the same time. And for me, that was definitely the easiest surgery I've ever gotten. Like pretty painless (with painkillers ofc).

Now, vaginoplasty is definitely the most painful procedure I've had! The best way to describe the pain day one would be like when you've tucked all day but more intense (I know not a lot of people have tucked on this app but it's the best metaphor I could come up with 🤷‍♀️). But as the week went on, the catheter definitely became the most painful part. It felt like my urethra was burning 🔥😬 (I bet a lot more people can understand that feeling lol). Interestingly, it was at its least painful while moving and moving is also good for recovery!

I stayed in the hospital for two nights before they removed the covering and sent me home with a catheter and packing in my vagina. Again, they probably only did it this way because I live 20 minutes away. As the weak went on, it swelled up a lot and brushing spreads from it across my thighs (in honestly a cool pattern!)

When my catheter and packing was removed they gave me a "tour" of my new vagina. I don't remember the names well but here's what I remember. The Major flaps (the main thing you see when you see a vulva) we're still pretty swollen but starting to loosen and get that wrinkly quality. My nurse likes calming them dog ears at this stage and they really did look like dog ears 🥺🐶. I saw my clitoral hood and she said my clitoris is packed behind all of that but I don't need to worry about that for now. She also pointed out the urethral plating which was formally part of the urethra proper but with the inside on the outside now. It's super blue now but in time it'll start developing a mucus to keep my vagina from getting bone dry (will still need lube for dilation and eventually sex). And then the vagina hole itself.

To keep my vagina from healing shut, I'll need to dilate at least 4 times daily for 20 minutes this first week and a while longer and then slowly ramp down as the hole heals up. But, the nurse stressed that there are no hard rules with dilation and I just need to really listen to my body if I want to get the depth and width I want. Which I do want plenty of depth and width bc tbh my partner will be able to fill it 🤭 they key thing they said was to try to be as relaxed as possible while doing so 🪻

They also filled my bladder with sterile water as a "practice run" to make sure I can pee on my own.

I want to say I got a lot of wonderful nurses! All except the one I had when I first got out of surgery, I could tell actually saw me as and treated me like a woman. And they did a great job at welcoming me vagina ownership in a very understanding way without being condensing 💕

Despite the horrible pain, it's been a very euphoric experience 🥰 and I would definitely recommend it for anyone who wants it.

Feel free to ask any questions, I can't promise I'll have the best answers but I'll try my best 🥺

Also feel free to look through #my trans journey tag for more info on my transition if you're curious ✨

[loadedberetta]

Apartment 10

Ghost x fReader // callsign Misfit; fem no body desc // MDNI

cw bullet removal, taking a painkiller, slight blood and gore

summary: a new member of KorTac, you get caught out cold, and the only place to hole up in is a SpecGru safehouse... it's quiet. that is until Ghost arrives.

3.6k words // rating: E/18+ // MDNI // Part 2: Barracks 4

warnings: porn with plot (MDNI!!); unprotected sex (only fools don't wrap their tools); implied König x Reader; degradation whoops; possessive Ghost; slight pain play; size difference (reader isn't itty bitty, but she's smaller than Ghost that's realistic imo); hurt/mild comfort; nicknames used: callsign Misfit, girly, princess, sweetness, good girl, lovey, slut (1x)

a/n: this came to me because I've been apartment hunting for the last month or so, enjoy this trainwreck I put together in one afternoon. not betad. feedback appreciated.

How do you explain a bullet wound and other highly suspicious scars and bruises to a nurse in a language you don't speak, in a country you're illegally in?

You don't.

You keep your head down and get your arse to a safehouse.

That's what you do.

Good thing there was one in the city. It wasn't even your safe house, it was a SpecGru one. Still better than nothing.

Maybe.

You heard about it once, when you were stationed in the nearby capital, and met up with some operators for a beer.

You had to pick the lock and pray that you were the only one inside. Silence. You stepped forward. Flicking your handgun into the kitchen on the left, you saw nothing but an empty plate on the waxed tablecloth covering the small dining table.

Dead silent. Turning out from the kitchen, you moved forward. Two rooms, one large enough to house a bed, and the other presumably a bathroom.

Not bad, you nodded.

A droplet ran down your leg, where the baggy pair of pants allowed it to.

Sweat? Blood?

You had to check. Shedding your jacket, and the tac vest underneath, you sat down on the bed.

A bullet was lodged in your left hip for hours by then. Great.

Your face felt hot, lighting up with both regret and the sweet kiss of concrete you had to familiarize yourself with a few hours prior while fleeing a compromised position.

Palms scabbed, knees bruised, and that terrible throb of a bullet nestling in the thick bone.

You sighed and pulled the pants down just enough to assess the wound better. Peeling off the hastily applied gauze, you hissed in discomfort.

A small 9mil round of a handgun. If you strained yourself, you could get it out, it sat in a very advantageous position. You'd been through worse.

You started counting up the hours if it was worth torturing yourself with trying to remove the bullet. Earliest, you could head down to the nearest base, which happened to be an airfield via train the next day.

The total trip would have made up about 24 hours before being back on home soil in these conditions.

With a sigh, you stood up. Opening a drawer of the large closet nearby, relief washed over you as a small, half-empty bottle of disinfectant spray rolled to the wooden wall with a knock.

Pocketing it, you headed to the kitchen. Laying beneath the lip of the plate on the table, something reflected the light from outside. A key.

Swiftly, you locked the front door and disappeared they key deep in your pocket. Palming through the drawers, a small stake-knife was the closest thing to a scalpel, with its pointy end.

"Fucking SpecGru…" You grunted, shoving the drawer closed.

Back in the small bedroom, you sat on the edge of the bed to catch as much light as you could from the white streetlights outside to aid your surgery. Groaning, you pulled your pants down again a little and assessed the damage.

Fifty agonizing minutes later, you threw yourself back on the bed and spat the rag from your mouth, just as the stubborn round clinked on the ground below. Panting for a few minutes, you smeared away a little tear with the back of your hand, still holding the knife in a tight grip.

After carefully applying the last of your sterile patches, you silently washed up in the bathroom, and laid down on the cold mattress again, this time falling into a comatose sleep.

***

Something rustled.

Your eyes flashed awake. The moon was no longer shining through the window.

Movement of a door handle. Your ears perked, and your hands moved beneath the pillow to grab hold of your silenced pistol.

Footsteps.

You turned around, toward the door, and extended your hand ending in the barrel of the pistol toward the opening.

And a mirror image stared back at you. Another silenced pistol, but a man at the other end of it.

His eyes narrowed, the only feature on him you could make out in the dim light, apart from how large his frame seemed to be, still you recognized him from the times you'd seen him on tape... Impressive and commanding... Ghost.

"Lower the gun." He rasped quietly. It was a multi-storey apartment building after all.

A fellow operator. 'Fellow'. The only thing you'd seen of him yet was on bodycam, yet it still made you drool. He was an even more impressive sight in the flesh.

"You're…"

"SpecGru. And you're KorTac." He kept the gun trained on you, flicking his gaze to the discarded tac vest lying by the foot of the bed with the insignia patch on it.

You had to lower yours; having the short end of the stick. Freshly roused, wounded, and on enemy land. Well, enemy.

"I can explain." You offered and lowered the pistol.

He didn't.

Carefully, you laid it down on the bed and raised your hands. "Gromsko and Fender showed me this place once. I don't know how they knew. I was wounded. I picked the lock."

He sighed and lowered his gun, finally.

"You're Ghost." You tried. Had someone told you that morning you were going to meet him that day, you would have laughed in their face. But just then, you were the farthest away from laughing.

"Aye." He rasped and stepped into the room. "Won't ask what brings you here."

"No." You sat up in the bed.

He walked to the window and looked around. Without looking back at you, he addressed you by your callsign, "Misfit".

"Word travels…" You mumbled.

"Were you followed?" He finally looked back at you.

You shook your head, grabbing your pistol and stashing it back under the pillow under his watchful eye.

"Where you hit?" He took a step closer, searching eyes flicking up and down your body.

Pulling the undone waistband of your pants down, you showed him the patch.

"There's the bullet." You nodded towards the shiny cartridge on the ground.

He grunted and picked it up, black windstopper struggling to hold his frame.

"We're after the same target." He rumbled and pulled out a shell from one of his pockets. The bullet you dug out of yourself slotted right into it.

You shook your head in surprise and stood up, groaning at the sharp pain jolting through your damaged hip.

"'ve got a few more pain pills left. Willing to give you one if that means you'll sleep through the night and let me catch some shuteye too." He commented as he dropped the bullet into your palm.

It almost disappeared between his thick fingers, you noticed.

"That'd… That'd be appreciated, yes." You busied yourself with inspecting the disfigured bullet between your much smaller fingers.

He left for the bathroom and you took the time to sit back on the bed, one leg pulled below you. After some shuffling and strange clinks, he returned with a prescription bottle of painkillers. Name rubbed off, you noticed as he lobbed the container at you.

"Thank you." You screwed the cap off and took one. "Napro?" You glanced at the blue tablet.

You narrowed your eye at Ghost leaning against the doorframe as you took one and swallowed it. He barely fit in the doorway, you took notice.

"The American banker, right?" He asked nonchalantly and caught the bottle you threw back at him with a curve.

You remained silent. It was, your target.

"I'm here to observe him… He's part of a bigger plot…" He threw the bone at you.

"I have execute authority on him." You stared back at Ghost. "If you and your friends are about to ruin my mission…"

"Looks like there's competition, Misfit." An audible smirk lurked beneath his mask.

A sigh parted your lips.

"You blew the fuse already anyway." You massaged your temple as he spoke. "They're alerted that someone's here by now."

Silence descended on the room. A car passed outside.

"Security will be tight now. Working in our favour." He chuckled dryly, and it made you look up at him.

"So you did know I was here." You narrowed your eyes at him, searching.

"Might have." He shrugged short.

He stepped closer and closed the door to the room behind himself.

"You're in deep shit, Misfit." His voice neared a growl, and he leaned in more as he talked. "Wading in so deep onto enemy territory, trying to kill someone we want to keep alive… And I'm here feeding you my napro, and you're taking up my space on that bed. How's that right girlie, huh?"

His gloved hand cupped your cheek as he reached over the bed that separated the two of you.

Words evaded you as a finger brushed against your lightly parted lips, ghosting wisps of the cotton above your skin.

"I…"

"Been keepin' an eye on you, sweetness… Since you got off that train…" He explained, and rounded the bed, letting go of your jaw in the process that left you a few seconds to catch your breath; unsuccessfully.

"Didn't know KorTac needed eyes this badly, that they'd tolerate you in their ranks…" He continued, cooing when you frowned at his foul tone.

"Did I strike a nerve, princess? Hm?" He placed his hand under your jaw yet again, and gripped it tighter. "Answer me, princess. Did you get in over your head here? Don't tell me you want to prove yourself to someone…"

He rasped a chuckle from above you. His frame intimidated you in a way that sparked something previously unknown in your brain.

It was a secret, tightly drawn to your chest that you were attracted to him. You've seen photos of him, tapes, and other recordings; fighting, interrogating, or just simply being a menace on the field. His impressive (public) record also struck a chord in you. You often found yourself imagining him in your room, touching you when you were left alone for longer missions by the sly Colonel of your faction; König.

This time it was not the Colonel standing over you; Ghost was slightly smaller, but not a hair less impressive.

Legs lightly spread, hulking frame dwarfing you despite the fact you yourself weren't the smallest either, bulking up to pass KorTac's deathly entrance exams.

"Well, are you? Who's the lucky one, don't be tongue-tied now…"

Him. It was him, you slowly came to realize. König dwarfed in the back of your mind.

"Nobody…" You exalted, against the tight grip on your face. Even if it wasn't the entire truth, you weren't new to keeping secrets.

His eyes flashed with a strange light when an ambulance passed silently in the night on the street below.

"Now, now…"

"No. It's no one." Your gut twisted with a sinful delight when you came to, and the first thought connecting in your head was of his jealousy, and how painfully arousing it was to you.

There wasn't enough defiance in you at that moment to play cocky. You wanted it as much as one could have, and it was not the time to play around…

"Nobody?" His eyes narrowed behind the black paint.

You tried shaking your head, but his hand stopped you and held your head in place.

"Words, princess, use your words…" He leaned in closer only with his head.

"No." You repeated yourself in a voice breaking over the single syllable, only to elicit a chuckle from him.

Condescendingly, he shook his head.

"Too damn bad. I don't like liars." He shoved your face backward, making you fall back on the bed with a painful yelp.

"Will you make me fuck the truth out of you, princess?" He asked with a furrow of his brows.

No reply. Breath caught in your throat, as you focused on a much more dangerous sensation of wetness pooling in your half-undone trousers, soaking your knickers painfully quickly.

"Lying is one thing." He straightened up and zipped down his windbreaker as you found grip and propped yourself up on one elbow. "And silence… is another."

His jacket hit the floor mid-sentence, revealing a sweater underneath, the black hood of it already on his head.

"So…" He chuckled as he undid his belt, seeing your worried expression trail his hand. "I don't want to fill your pretty mouth in case you have sum'n to tell me…" He chuckled darkly and stepped closer to the bed, parting your legs hanging off it with his.

He grabbed your hips with both hands firmly, and dragged you closer to him, separating your legs even more. It was painfully obvious that the bedframe left you way lower than it'd have been comfortable for either of you.

And he saw it too. So without a word, he turned you over to your stomach, as if you were a rather large pillow. Your legs tangled, and the fresh wound on your hip spurted blood onto the dressing. Your closer hand flew to the area to shield it, and a pained whimper broke past your lips.

"Gotta wait for the pill to kick in, do ya?" He chuckled darkly and bent your knees expertly to prop your arse up into the air, undone pants already riding hallway down it.

"Good girl…" He drew out the words as he palmed the exposed flesh hungrily. The praise went straight to your cunt.

"You're making it hard to resist, lovey, to just fuck you without a thought of concern."

For once, he paid attention to the material riding against the wound but pulled the pants down recklessly over every other inch of your legs, the hems scraping along your sensitive thighs, discarding the cargos on the floor.

Your head buried into the thick mattress, scrunching the material of the covers against your skin.

"I still haven't got a name from you, princess… Who is it, that you so- desperately- want- to- prove yourself to, huh?" He punctuated his words with quick, small smacks against your now bare arse.

"Ugh…" You groaned into the covers, not wanting to admit yet, that this was a game you highly enjoyed as well.

The name of your Colonel escaped your mind, the empty space filled with hazy thoughts instead.

Had Ghost not shown up that night, realization might have settled in you way later; or maybe never. Affiliation be damned, it was him, there in that moment.

The gloves were gone, you noticed by the stinging sensation and the noise. The thought barely settled in you, when two fingers pushed the hem of your knickers aside, and dragged on top of your swollen lips, eliciting a breathy inhale of a moan from you. It embarrassed you, more after he chuckled in reaction.

"Those are not words, lovey…" He mumbled from above you. "Really? Do I really gotta finger you open to talk? I reckon…" You gasped feverishly as he pushed the two thick digits inside of you without any warning. "I reckon you have got to start talking soon enough… Will ya, pretty girl?"

Uncaring towards the painful throb in your hipbone, you sought some sort of anchorage in the sheets, nodding into them when you did.

Sprawled out on the bed like a cat stretching, you started making small but audible gasps to the rhythm of Ghost's two fingers pumping into you, easing you open.

"Good Lord, princess, you really- fuck, you really enjoying this now, are ya?" His rhythm sped up, and he bottomed out in you, ring finger hitting your clit with every stroke now, making you see stars.

His other hand supported your good hip, helping you fuck back into his hand.

You were eager by then, uncaring toward the pain, that quickly eased with the building pleasure in you.

"Next time… Next time you're not getting a painkiller, I'll just- God, I'll just make you take it, shit…"

His words, how raw and dismissive they were, sent shivers down your already buzzing spine, and let pleasure build in your further.

Then, his pace slowed, leaving you breathy and aching for more.

"I'm not going to let you come from my fingers alone, no…" You felt him lean closer, onto you. "You ought to talk first, lovey." His words barely settled in your ears when he removed his fingers from your sloppy cunt, pulling down your panties, and leaving you cold and dripping.

"Ah, no, no, please… No… I'll…" You breathed hastily through the words.

"You'll what, hm?" He punctuated the sentence with a light groan, and something clinked in the background. A concealed holster dropped on the ground with a light thud. "I'm listening."

You screwed your eyes shut just in time his leaking, angry head nudged against your entrance. A surprised moan rolled out onto the mattress from your lungs, only to be met with the harsher, more guttural sound of his groan.

"Sweet Jesus, Misfit…" He rasped between clenching teeth.

He didn't prod much, coating himself barely in your slick before pushing into you slowly. Velvety, ridged walls enveloped his raging length, and the sensation left you both gasping for air.

"So tight…"

"So big…"

The sounds overlapped.

His one hand continued holding your hip, the other settling on your back, pushing you into the mattress roughly.

He didn't move for a moment, but only a moment, before he drew a few languid strokes into you, settling finally deep within your walls, forcing you to arch your back even sharper.

"Got a bit sidetracked, eh, princess?" He teased.

The lack of your response prompted him to speed up his pace, jerking you forward with each thrust.

"You're,- ah fuck- you wanted this, didn'tcha?" He chuckled at the little gasps you were taking how the pace allowed it, the lack of oxygen making you slightly lightheaded. Your head tilted to the side, and he saw your eyes roll back into your head, which sparked him to ramble on.

"Can't take it, can you now, huh? Should have talked when you had the chance, slut." The longer he talked, the more muddled his words became, building a sensation in you with each thrust into you, that soon became irresistibly delicious.

Your dominant hand moved, seeking that one component that could send you over the edge.

"Yeah, touch yourself, that's it, princess." He mumbled, his pace earth-shattering and unwavering, launching you into another dimension.

Not only was the stretch immense from his thickness, but the curve and the length of his cock moved something primally deep in you.

"Can you talk? Can you, hm? I will fuck it out of you soon enough…"

Clearing your throat shakily, with the heavy frame of him rocking into you unyielding, you tried talking. The teasing few rubs on your clit turned intense in a moment, and words dared to spill out of your mouth.

"Yeah- ye-yes…" You cried out with more force than you expected.

"There you are, ungh-- good girl, now… Talk to me…" His pace did not falter, not for a syllable, keeping a murderous rhythm that soon had you teetering on the edge of a devastating orgasm.

"Do you want to prove yourself to me now, pretty girl? Hm?" His hand snaked forward, onto your nape, pressing your head down, increasing sensation to almost unbearable levels, and depriving you of your already dwindling oxygen supply.

"I do!" You agreed furiously, as wave after wave crashed onto you, making your legs shake beneath Ghost's intimidating form.

"Yes, that's it, good girl…" He growled, fingers digging into your good hip, the other hand grabbing your side to anchor you through your climax.

It arrived moments later, with incoherent words babbling out of your mouth, feeding the already swelling ego of Ghost.

"Tell me.." He panted, swallowing. "Talk, talk, princess, fuck-"

"It's you… yes. Yes, yes, you Ghost… Fuck, ah, fuck…" You rode out the last waves, and your hand fell back on the bed.

"So fucking cockdrunk, pretty girl, yeah…" He ignored your small shrieks the oversensitivity of your throbbing pussy pressed out of you, and continued pounding into you, thrusts growing shallow and erratic.

"Only for me, yeah? Answer me." He demanded sternly, as you barely recognized the world around you.

"Only… yes." That was all you managed, all care for your well-being or future consequences having been fucked out of your head.

"God, fuck, you're making me, mhh…" You felt him throw his head back, groaning as he did so.

"Prove your--self, only- to me. Nobody fucking else. Me." He stuttered for a moment, then sent home the building tension in his body with one last slam against your shaky hips, as you felt him empty his load deep inside your receptive walls. "Take it. Take it, fuck… Only from me."

"Yes, yes…" You mumbled, delirious and fucked out, twitching in cramped overstimulation.

You felt empty as he pulled out of our spent pussy, leaking and draining his spend messily over your folds.

"That taught you a lesson, didn't it?" He asked as you lowered your arse, and laid you down on your good side. Straining your tired body, you looked up at him.

Ghost was clasping his belt shut again, and adjusted his jumper when the two of you locked eyes.

"That pussy is mine now." He disclosed simply, gaze unwavering. "Nobody else touches you like me, do they?"

Unable to think of anything smart to say, you shook your head.

"None of those KorTac boys…" He cooed. "Not one of them can make you fall apart like this, no…" He chuckled and left for the washroom. Thoughts slowly came to you, but you slotted them away for another day. A minute later, he lobbed a wet towel at you and disappeared for a moment more until you cleaned yourself up and threw the rag to the foot of the bed.

"Move." He simply commanded, when he came back, much calmer than he was just but a minute ago. "Bed's big enough for the two of us, and we're well acquainted now. Now move." He sat down on the edge of it as you shifted to leave him some space.

You were still bare from the waist down, and just as you looked around the room for your knickers and pants he handed you both. Without a word, you put them on again, the cold, wet material slightly uncomfortable against your hot, still pulsing cunt.

Slightly groaning, you settled on the bed, facing away from him, on your good hip.

"You mad, princess?" You heard him ask as the mattress dipped beside you. It really was a tight fit, for the both of you to comfortably settle on the creaky bed.

You didn't have an answer to that.

"I'll take that as a no." He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Well, that was an answer.

One you desperately wanted to fight, before sleep dragged you under violently fast.

Part 2 - Barracks 4

a/n: we're not going to leave it here, I already thought of a new chapter, suit yourselves. rb and share and stuff, thanks for reading!!

[mariacallous]

CUT DEEP into the innards of the southern front, Ukraine’s first underground hospital feels like something out of a James Bond movie. State-of-the-art gadgetry begins with admissions. Wounded soldiers arrive directly from the battlefield: in cars, ambulances, quad bikes, or whatever else can carry them. They are assessed and colour-coded into modules by urgency: “red zone” cases for immediate operations, “yellow zone” for other treatment. Alongside an operating theatre, enclosed in steel barrels several metres below ground level, is an intensive care unit. There is a ventilator, and even a laboratory for blood tests. The centre is set up for sophisticated operations: bone repair, soft tissue reconstruction, and even arterial bypass surgery.

In military jargon, this is a “role 2” facility, the second of four treatment tiers from frontline triage to tertiary hospital care. Doctors move people on if they can. Those stable enough are whisked off to “role 3” facilities, approximately 30km away. The rest are treated and stabilised here, a little over 10km from the contact line. The hospital’s immaculately joined wooden beams—chosen over concrete to soften shrapnel in the event of a Russian strike—project a deceptive warmth, like being in a Scandinavian sauna. The drones and glide-bombs that terrorise the skies outside make clear that this is not a place to relax. Ukraine’s medics are here, underground, not by choice. Like the soldiers they treat, they are among the hunted.

Evhen, the underground hospital’s chief medical officer, grunts at any suggestion that Russia might follow the Geneva conventions, which forbid targeting medical units. “They don’t even know what it means,” he says. To the Russian military, doctors are “force multipliers”—they patch up soldiers and send them back to fight, take a long time to train and are hard to replace. Ukraine now tells its medics to remove any markings that might set them apart. “If you put a red cross on a car, you’ll be fired on within 15 minutes.” The goal is still to get wounded soldiers from the frontline to a role 2 treatment unit within an hour, but drones drag out the process, often for hours. The delays often mean life or death; limb or no limb. Leave a tourniquet on for more than a few hours, and tissue damage is irreversible.

Ukraine believes survival on the battlefield is the key to regaining the edge in a war that has become largely attritional. The underground hospitals are a key part of the puzzle, says Roman Kuziv, the 35-year-old doctor who helped design them. A technocratic planner with experience of working as a surgeon in Europe, Dr Kuziv has quickly risen through the Ukrainian ranks: from local hospital chief to medical commander of the entire eastern and southern front. He lets data guide him to new standards and protocols. War pulses through the monitors in front of him. He claims the medical data give him “80% of the picture” about what is happening on the battlefront. Where units are well organised and where they are not. Where morale is good and where it is not. He makes a call to commanders whenever he spots a problem.

Swiping through images on his smartphone—a surreal blend of family photos and flesh wounds—Dr Kuziv reveals the brutal injuries and hard choices his teams face daily. He pulls up a photo of a man with a gaping hole in his upper body, alongside a kidney sliced in two, and a 30cm slab of missile metal that had been lodged deep in his midriff. “Did the man make it?” Remarkably, yes, he did. Another soldier, this time with a deep gash across his back, part of his spine missing, internal organs spilling out. That soldier survived initial surgery in the underground hospital, but died two days later. A third clip shows a soldier in his 30s, convulsing violently as he tries to drink a cup of water. What was up here? “Hydrophobia,” the commander says. “An extreme aversion to water.” In short, the soldier had rabies, caused by a single bite from a cat, and it was too late to save him. The army saw a handful of such cases before culling wild animals in the area.

Almost three years of war have brought Ukraine’s army doctors a mountain of unexpected challenges. Drones have largely rewritten the rulebook on battlefield wounds: the numbers are rocketing, and the attacks are more persistent, more targeted. The “golden hour”—NATO doctrine for evacuating a soldier to proper care within 60 minutes—has become something closer to fiction. Chemical weapons have returned to the field, too, with the re-appearance of agents like chloropicrin, a poison gas first seen in the trenches of the first world war. The gas, used to flush out Ukrainians from their trenches and foxholes, attacks the soft tissues of the respiratory system. At higher doses, it kills.

The demands have seen Ukrainian military medicine develop in quick time. Today’s setup is unrecognisable from seven years ago, when Dr Kuziv first began working with the army. The commander regularly tracks Russian social media to gauge how well he is doing. He’s usually happy with the comparison with Russian front-line medicine. “It’s the second world war over there.” But the demands and need to stay ahead are relentless. The ministry of defence has just approved another 20 of his “role 2” underground hospitals, which are being co-financed by an industrial sponsor. The commander is also working on an overhaul of “role 1” facilities, front-line triage units. According to his futuristic vision, these will be accessible underground by a system of mechanical elevators.

There have been mistakes, thousands who could have been saved. But Russia’s war without limits would test the resources of any military medical service, Dr Kuziv insists. “All-out war gives you one or two months to study and adapt.” NATO countries should be thinking about how they would cope, he says. “Honestly, they are not prepared. They wouldn’t know what’s hit them.”

[boimela]

Best CABG surgery in bangalore | Best Cardiac Surgeon in Bangalore - drdivakarbhat (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1317589682-best-cabg-surgery-in-bangalore-best-cardiac?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading Chief Cardio-thoracic Surgeon well known for his Beating heart surgery technique where in heart (engine) is repaired without stopping, thus helping the patient to recover very fast from major operation.

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Step 11: Realizations

Summary: Working at the Weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Y'all wanted the Larissa pain and I bring you Larissa pain. Enjoy. Also again, pls send all the love to the now co-author of this series @misssmephisto 🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs @h-doodles @bbykens @lilfartbox1 @bigolgay @winterfireblond @gela123

(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)

Chapter 10

Cross Posted on AO3 here

HWTAHP Masterlist

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Larissa had fucked up.

She knew she had the moment she’d ended her bullshit-filled tirade. Knew when you had run out of her office sobbing.

And she sure as shit knew right now.

She had been sitting at her desk, re-reading the same email for what had felt like the hundredth time when she’d gotten a call from Marylin. She was confused, it was the middle of the night. She answered the call, a deep sense of dread chilling her to the bone as she did so.

“Larissa? I-I saw your girlfriend running into the woods and-and I was worried so I followed her but- she’s been attacked, Larissa. I don’t-I don’t know if she’ll make it I-“ Marylin rushes.

Larissa can’t breathe, she’s no longer listening to Marylin. Her hands are shaking and she feels like she might throw up. She brings one hand to cover her mouth, the other gripping her phone as if it were her lifeline. As panic gripped her, the words blood, ambulance and sheriff breached her mind from the device in her hand.

She’s the reason you were out there. She’s the reason you got attacked.

She was wrong. She was so so wrong. She was wrong and now you might die and she was so wrong.

She called you a monster.

Before she can even register what she is doing she has grabbed her keys and ran out of her office.

“Marylin” Larissa started, cutting off the tear-fuelled rambling of her college. “I need you to gather the staff and check on all the students and make sure everyone is accounted for. The school is on lockdown as of now, keep everyone indoors and safe. I’m going to the hospital, call me if anything else happens.” She instructs.

Before Marylin can reply, Larissa has hung up and is getting into her car. She drives frantically, not particularly caring what traffic laws she’s breaking. All she cares about is getting to you. You have to be okay. You just have to.

When she finally makes it to the hospital, she all but barges through the front doors. Rushing up to the front desk, the headmistress frantically asks about your whereabouts. She’s told you’re in surgery, you’d lost an almost catastrophic amount of blood but they were doing everything in their power. She’s directed to a waiting room and then left alone.

Larissa had no idea how long she had sat there, her eyes burning holes into the floor beneath her as the words, those horrible cruel words she spoke to you ran through her head. She keeps seeing your face, heartbroken with tears running down your cheeks. She keeps thinking of how this is all her fault, how you could’ve been safe if she had just listened to you. If she had just not been a royal bitch. If she had just had dinner with you.

She didn’t deserve you. After all you’d done for her, after all you’d gone through with her. She wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see her again.

But you didn’t deserve to be alone, so she would wait here until she knew you were okay. It was the least she could do.

——————

The clock ticked on, seconds becoming minutes, minutes becoming hours. There had been no news, and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Her legs were stiff, her eyes were stinging. She probably looked dreadful but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The once powerful persona of the Nevermore headmistress was broken, stuck floating in time.

She was glad to not have heard from Marylin. Hopeful that that meant everything was well at the school. She honestly wouldn’t have been much use if something was wrong anyway.

She was startled by a set of doors being flung open, her body fuelled with adrenaline, legs quivering with how fast she was forced upwards. She was even more shocked when three of her students came bursting through said doors. Enid, Wednesday and Yoko ran up to her and before she can scold them for being off school grounds during a lockdown, Yoko speaks.

“Is she still in surgery?”

Larissa sighs and nods, deciding she doesn’t have the energy to be the stern principal she should be. Sliding back into the seat beneath her, Larissa’s mind begins to fall back into the routine she had been stuck in for the past however long. However, Wednesday spoke six words that shattered the downward spiral the headmistress had created.

“Do they know she’s an outcast?”

“What are you talking about?” Larissa responded, her head turning towards the girl, curiosity leading her fast reply.

“She’s a vampire. We can explain how we know later but right now we have to tell them she’s a vamp and will be needing blood, well- more blood.” Enid explains.

“I-that can’t…how certain are you of this? We can’t just- she could-“ Larissa stutters.

“Just trust us on this, please. I don’t…we don’t want her to die.” Yoko pleads.

Shocked by Yoko’s outright display of emotion, Larissa nods. She gets up from the chair, her joints popping in protest. She strides over to the nurses' station, explaining your situation to them. She has to argue back and forth with them for quite a while before they listen to her. The terms legal guardian, family and medical records are thrown around in protest before the desperation on Weems’ face convinces the receptionist to ring into the surgery room. Before she can turn back towards her students, a nurse in conversation with the other receptionist turns in disgust at the piece of information Larissa had shared. Continuing in the direction she was heading, Larissa barely resists the urge to cuss her out.

  Returning to the seating area, she sighs. A motion filled with exhaustion, regret and deep sadness.

“Can I get you three something to drink? I have a suspicion this is going to be a long night.”

——————

The four had settled back in the waiting room, this time on the two couches that were available. Larissa and Enid had gotten a hot chocolate while Wednesday and Yoko had settled on coffee (Larissa did not have it in her to try and get them to have something without caffeine in it.) None of the girls commented on Larissa’s appearance, which she was truly grateful for.

Breaking the tense silence they had found themselves in, the headmistress spoke, “Alright, so how did you three figure this out?”

“Well, it actually started when Wednesday ran overheard you two talking about (Y/N)’s nightmares.” Enid starts.

“I’m sorry what?” Larissa interrupts, turning to shoot Wednesday an accusatory stare. She expected nothing less of the girl, knowing her reputation but a sense of upset and surprise still struck her.

“I was investigating a potential lead in the attacks and happened to walk by your office while you two were talking.” She hums, taking a sip from her decidedly not completely shit coffee.

“Anyway, from there Wednesday was uh curious about what was going on with her…” Enid continues.

“I suspected she may be the person behind the attacks.” Wednesday deadpans.

Larissa freezes at that, swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat. She feels a strong stabbing pain in her chest. In an effort to distract herself, she looked down at her takeaway cup and hums.

“Uhm so yeah Wednesday did some digging. She was trying to figure out what made her come to Jericho in the first place, given the attacks started right around the time she arrived. But then Yoko came to pick me up for a trip to Jericho to go shopping and saw Wednesday’s murder wall and found it way more interesting than I did, it gives me the creeps.”

“A murder wall?” Larissa questioned, incredulous.

“So then Yoko told us about the way your barista girlfriend had a vampire smell. Furthermore, along with some information she learnt from Outreach Day and her behaviour over the past couple of days, I deemed it appropriate to enter her home and do some more digging-“ Wednesday explained.

“Wednesday Addams-“ Larissa hissed.

“And I found these tablets she was taking. I’d never seen or heard of them before, so I did some further investigation and it would seem it's a rather poor blood substitute, which fit Yoko’s vampire theory.” Wednesday continues, ignoring the blonde’s obvious anger.

“But she has no fangs?” Larissa murmurs.  

“In more conservative places there was a practice where they would file down young vampire's fangs to make them more ‘normal.’” Yoko explains with a scowl. “It's archaic and evil.”

“Why…who would do this..?” Larissa mumbled.

“Well, that’s where Wednesday’s digging into why she moved here comes in. Turns out she used to live in this super small town literally in the middle of nowhere. Everything we found about it was not like outright ‘outcasts are evil and dangerous’ but was prejudiced enough to give me the super ick.” Enid offered.

“I see…” Larissa breathed out.

Larissa didn’t know how to feel. Actually, she did. She felt a deep, deep sense of self-loathing and shame. And above all else, she felt guilt. Guilt that made her stomach churn and her chest ache. Gods she truly didn’t know how she would live with herself after tonight.

The four of them sat in silence for a while, the three girls noticing their headmistress’s unusually upset demeanour and deciding it best to leave the queries, for now. Hours went by with no news, Larissa growing more and more weary as time went on. She had tried to convince the three girls to go back to Nevermore but had received a rather strong chorus of no’s in return. Eventually, a doctor came through the doors and called out your name. Larissa immediately stood from her seat and rushed over to her, her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

“I-Is she alright? Did she make it out of the surgery okay?” Larissa asked.

“She’s just come out of surgery, we’ve taken her to the ICU. The surgery went well, surprisingly given her condition, it was touch and go for a while, but after we started administering more blood things went much smoother. I can take you to her room if you’d like?” She states.

“I-Yes, thank you.” Larissa breathes, her heart calming just a bit.

She gathers the three teens before following the doctor to your room. The doctor warned the group that you were still asleep and still weren’t in the greatest shape, so they needed to prepare themselves. Larissa had to take a moment outside your room to steel herself. She needed to keep herself together.

When she entered your room and saw you laying there, unconscious and battered her resolve to keep herself together crumbled instantly. You looked so small and fragile in the hospital bed. Your face was so pale and you were so still. She let out a choked sob, bringing a shaking hand up to cover her mouth, feeling tears gather in her eyes. She hurries over to your side while scanning you over for injuries. You have several small cuts littering your face and arms. A deeper more noticeable cut on your head, and the skin around it is bruised terribly. She’s certain the brunt of your injuries are hidden beneath the blanket covering you from the chest down and her stomach drops just thinking about it. She drops into the chair seated next to your bed. 

“When uhm-“ Larissa tries, her voice cracking, “When will she wake up?”

“Unfortunately, due to the extreme nature of her injuries we can’t be certain when she will wake up.” The doctor explains.

“Do you know that she’ll wake up?” Wednesday queries.

Enid scolds her, slapping her on the arm while Larissa squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t fathom a world, a life without you. You and your brilliant smile and silly jokes that never failed to make her laugh. And yet she threw that all away anyway. Hurt you immeasurably and for what? Because she was stupid enough to doubt your character, to make out as if you were some manipulative awful creature? She was awful, irredeemable.

“Principal Weems?” Enid prompts gently.

“Hm?” she responds, not taking her eyes off you.

“We’re going to head back to the school now. Do you need anything before we go?” She asks.

She shakes her head, thanking the three of them before they leave. And then it’s just you and her. She moves the chair closer to you and settles into it, kicking off her heels. She tentatively grabs one of your hands, squeezing it gently.

“I-I know that I-“ She whispers, her voice shaking. “That I- That the things I did- the things I said were- they were-“

She breaks into sobs then, squeezing your hand as she doubles over. She cries harder than she ever has in her life. She cries for what feels like eternity and she’s honestly not sure how long it truly was. Eventually, her sobs dissolve into hiccups and a constant stream of tears falling down her cheeks. She wipes at her eyes with her free hand, careless of the way her mascara smudges.

She knows this is the least of what she deserves. She deserves to be crushed by her guilt. She deserves to feel as though all the air has been sucked from the room, as though the weight of her callous words and cruel thinking will drown her.  She deserves all the pain and suffering the world has to offer.

But she will stay by your side, ensure you’re taken care of and not alone. It’s the least she could do.

——————

Larissa essentially hadn’t left your side since that night. She had gotten Marylin to bring her laptop the first time she visited so that she could attempt to get work done while watching over you. She had admittedly gotten much less done than usual but was still managing to get everything sorted. After two days of Larissa not moving from your side she had a very entertaining conversation with Enid and Wednesday.  

“Uh, Principal Weems, don’t take this the wrong way but uhm…do you think you should maybe uhm…well…” Enid tried.

“You look dreadful. You should go back to Nevermore and clean yourself up.” Wednesday interjected.  

Larissa had stared at the two of them, wide-eyed, before huffing a sigh and agreeing to head back to Nevermore later that day to make herself more presentable. The two had offered to stay with you while she sorted herself out. She thanked them, taking the hint and quickly returning to Nevermore and taking a much-needed shower and changing her clothes. She made sure to pack a few days worth of clothes and toiletries. The whole time she was away she worried you’d wake up while she was gone. She worried you’d think she didn’t care. She didn’t expect you to want her there when you woke up, she would leave as soon as you told her to. She deserved your anger and hate. But she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if you woke up alone.

So she packed all her necessary belongings and headed back to the hospital, to you. When she arrived back at your room Wednesday and Enid were deep in a seemingly very serious conversation. She used the opportunity to get herself a coffee from the hospital cafeteria. The coffee wasn’t terrible, but it was nothing compared to the drinks you brought her every morning. You would always bring her the most delicious coffee in the morning with the sweetest messages written on them.

And she had the gall to say all your kindness, all your actions were nothing but an elaborate ruse? She was truly the most awful person alive.

She made her way back to your room, her chest heavy with guilt. When she arrived for the second time Wednesday was nowhere to be found and Enid looked like she was on the verge of tears. Larissa stood awkwardly in the doorway, clearing her throat to alert the young werewolf to her presence.  Enid startles slightly, wiping at her eyes with the brightly coloured sleeve of her sweater.

“Oh Principal Weems! I uhm- She still hasn’t woken up yet. And Wednesday was here she just- well we…” she trails off, her lower lip quivering.

“Miss Sinclaire,” Larissa starts, pausing before coming to stand next to her. “Enid, I don’t know the intricacies of your relationship with Wednesday, but if you ever want to talk about it…”

“I just…” She sniffles, fresh tears coming to her eyes, “I really thought I-I was making progress with Wednesday and-and our friendship and her accepting that we’re you know actually friends. But then every time we have a moment or something she just shuts down and runs away. I just- I don’t know what to do.”

“Well,” Larissa starts, offering Enid a tissue which she gratefully accepts, “I’m not always the best with these sorts of things, goodness I all but ruined the one good relationship in my life… never mind that. With Wednesday, I think- she’s naturally closed-off but she truly does care about you. She may not express her affection in the same manner you do but I know for certain that she values you and your friendship. She just needs some time to figure out her feelings and figure out how she’s most comfortable expressing those feelings. So just, keep doing what you’re doing, but understand and give her time.”

Enid stares up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes before launching herself forward into Larissa’s arms. Larissa startles, glad for her tall frame for once. She tentatively wraps the poor girl in a hug. She holds her as she cries into her coat.

“You really are an amazing person, Enid, never doubt that.” She murmurs.

The two embrace for a while before Enid stops sniffling and takes a step back, she beams up at her principal.  

“Thank you, Principal Weems, you’re the best…” She smiles, which then turns into a concerned frown, “What was that about ruining a relationship?”

Larissa’s face falls at that, all of the colour draining from it. She clears her throat and does her best to fight the tears gathering in her eyes. Turning to face your sleeping form, she lifts a hand up to play with her necklace, swallowing thickly. She opens her mouth to speak, to explain herself but can’t find the words.

“I’ve not been a very good person as of late…” Larissa whispers, “I hurt her, possibly beyond repair. And now she’s-“

She stops herself, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. It’s highly inappropriate for her to even be talking about this with a student. She really ought to-

“Well, I’m sure whatever it is that happened,” Enid says, “If you just talk it out with her and apologize then maybe it’ll all work out.”

Enid's hope is adorable, but Larissa knows it won’t be that easy. The things she said to you were unforgivable. She had very little hope of salvaging things between the two of you. She only wanted to make sure you were okay and you didn’t blame yourself for anything that happened, as you tended to do.

Enid leaves her alone to her thoughts and she settles back in the chair. She reaches over and grabs your hand again. She can’t stand the silence of the room, only permeated by the constant beeping of the machines. So instead, she fills the silence with her apologies. She cries and apologises over and over. And when she’s all out of apologies she tells you everything she wished she had told you before that night, everything she thought and felt.

“I love you…” She whispers shakily, “I’ve loved you for so long now. I- I will never stop loving you, regardless of what happens when you wake up.”

She falls asleep that night, holding your hand while awkwardly sprawled in the chair, hoping you wake up.

——————

Marylin visits quite frequently, much to Larissa’s confusion. She brings new flowers each time (which consequentially has left your hospital room looking like a florist despite the nurses clearing the room each night.) She watches over you to allow Larissa some time to stretch her legs and occasionally go home to shower. As she travels back and forth between the hospital and Nevermore, she comes to the conclusion that the reason for Marylin’s visits are because she was in essence the one who found you. She also constantly reminds herself that she has no right to feel jealous of whatever friendship you and Marylin may share.

Along with Marylin some of her students come and visit you. Yoko comes around the most, often not staying very long but checking on you nonetheless, occasionally leaving small trinkets with your still form. Despite not knowing the true depth of your friendship with her student, Larissa feels comfortable giving you two space when Yoko visits.

Enid and Wednesday were the next most frequent visitors. Often they came together, a good sign Larissa hoped, but sometimes one of them would come on their own. Often Enid would chat with Larissa, ever since they had their heart-to-heart a few days ago she found the young werewolf had deemed her someone she could gossip or rant to. Larissa didn’t mind, often she found she actually really enjoyed Enid's company.

Wednesday was the complete opposite. She would always come in, check your vitals and flip through your chart that sat at the bottom of your bed (Larissa had given up on scolding her for it after three days.) Then the dark-haired girl would nod at Larissa before slipping from the room, off to cause mayhem no doubt.

James had visited every day, often chatting to Larissa while he did. Larissa didn’t know how to tell him he should hate her, should be cursing her and being as cruel to her as she was to you, if not worse. So instead she took to making important calls just after he arrived. She figured he appreciated the time alone with you anyway.  

On one rather strange occasion, Tyler Galpin had sheepishly knocked on the door of your room. He had glanced from Larissa to you and then stared at you with a hollow, almost guilty look. He had dropped off some flowers (adding to the ever-growing collection you now had) and then left. The entire visit had felt strange to Larissa but she didn’t have the energy to put into thinking about it further.

It had been over a week since the accident, twelve days to be exact. Twelve days of restless sleep, nightmares and uncomfortable sitting. Her whole body ached from being sat in the less-than-comfortable chair all day and night. Often she’d have to redo her makeup at least once a day (made so much easier with her shapeshifting abilities) on account of all the crying she was doing, despite feeling she had cried enough to fill the Pacific.

She worried you would never wake up. That one night she would fall asleep in that awful chair and wake up to the long unending beep of the heart rate monitor. And then they would take you away, and there would be a funeral and she would be completely and utterly lost without you. She worried you would wake up and quietly ask her to leave and never come back. She worried you would wake up and rightfully hate her and everything she stood for. She just worried.

Larissa never stopped speaking to you. On some days it was simply her telling you about the work she’d been doing or the latest update from Enid. Others it was her begging for your forgiveness. But she always made sure to tell you she loved you at the end of each day, regardless of whether you could hear her or not.

——————

It was the evening of the fifteenth day since the attack. Larissa was holding your hand with one of hers while she read a book she had been meaning to finish for months. She had taken to reading aloud, she found it helped keep her mind occupied and off of the crushing guilt she felt. She was halfway through the chapter when she felt your hand twitch.

She dropped the book, scrambling to bring her other hand over yours, her eyes rapidly searching her face for any sign that you may be waking up. Her heart was in her throat and if she hadn’t been holding your hand so tightly she would’ve noticed just how badly they were shaking. Her heart stops when your brows furrow, your nose scrunching. The beeping of the heart monitor beside you, began to speed up slightly.

“Darling?” she breathes out.  

And then your eyes flutter open and her breathing stops.

 You’re okay, you’re waking up. Everything is going to be okay-

Larissa’s back hit the floor, the chair she had been stuck to toppled beside her but she didn’t hear it fall. Everything was silent, the world had stilled. Her eyes were pinned to the ceiling staring at the fluorescent lights above as she began to feel a deep, burning pain in her neck. Slowly turning her head, she discovered the source. It was you.