#procedural and that's where it falls down a bit. it's still good but i wanted to see more of shaw (who is brilliantly compelling as he

[moonstruckme]

can i request a doctor!remus fic where maybe reader comes into the er and is very panicked by doctors and hospitals and they call remus in to help because he’s like known for putting people at ease….this may or may not be based on when i freaked out over a needle and they had to bring in a special doctor :l please and thank you and i’m obsessed with your fics <3

Thank you sweetness <3

cw: hospital, needle

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Your heart is in your throat. It’s pounding so hard you can feel its beating in your teeth, and no matter how you try you cannot get tears to stop leaking from your eyes. 

“Wait,” you say again, the word a wobbly, tight-voiced mantra. You keep thinking that if you can just calm yourself enough to seem credible, you can reason with these people. Convince them that you’re actually fine, so there’s no need to touch you, or poke you, or try to move your already agonizing shoulder. 

There are already three people in your tiny curtained-off room with you, so when the curtain pulls back and a fourth enters, you angle your hurt shoulder away from him unconsciously. 

“Hello,” the new doctor says. His voice is low and velveteen smooth, cutting through the thrumming panic in your brain like a warm knife through butter. The other doctor and the nurses who have been trying to pacify you fall quiet, seemingly relieved this other man is here. He glances quickly at a clipboard. “Y/n? I’m Remus.” 

“Hi.” You feel pathetic and a bit wild, tears still trudging down your face as you try to keep an eye on everyone in the room, especially the nurse with the needle. They’ve promised you several times now that they’re not going to do anything until you agree, and it’s not that you don’t trust that but you’re wary of anything happening without your notice. 

Remus walks over to you as though this scene is completely normal for him. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed and sets the clipboard down. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, looking as though he’d really like to know. His expression is kind and concerned. 

You give a little laugh, using your good hand to wipe under your eyes. It comes out sounding pitchy and stilted. “I’ve been better,” you admit. Remus’ lips curve in a small, sad smile. “I just, I’d really rather not be here.” 

“That’s understandable,” he replies patiently. He seems the least urgent of anyone you’ve interacted with since you’ve been here, and there’s a tranquility about him that’s contagious. You feel your tears slowing. “This isn’t really somewhere people end up when their day is going according to plan. What is it that’s making you nervous, sweetheart?” 

All of it, you want to say. The doctors and the nurses and the machines and the hair-raising sound of a baby crying a few rooms over. You hate hospitals and you always have. The idea of needing to be in more pain to relieve the one you’re already experiencing makes you feel like you’re trying to breathe through a straw. 

“I don’t like needles,” you say. Understatement of the year. 

Remus nods, seeming to mull this over. “Well, you have a dislocated shoulder,” he says, mouth pinching sympathetically. “The only way to fix that is to put the joint back into its proper place. It’s not the sort of thing that takes care of itself.” As he talks, his hand moves to rest on top of yours, forefinger stroking a slow back-and-forth across the back of your hand. “It can be fairly painful,” he tells you, “and if you move you could make things a lot harder for yourself. So, we’re going to give you medicine to help you calm down and alleviate the pain.” 

In his steady, dulcet voice, the thing that’s been explained to you twice over already sounds a lot more sensible. His thumb works over your hand, light brown eyes gently coaxing.

“The good thing about this procedure is, both parts are done with fairly quickly. And if you’d like me to, I can hold you while Dr. Michaels works, if that’ll help you at all.” 

The other three people in the room are moving again, somewhat slowly, but Remus doesn’t seem to notice. He holds your gaze. 

“Yes, please,” you say tightly. You know it’s an acquiescence. Even as you say it more tears are blurring your vision. 

“Alright, it’s alright.” Remus wastes no time in moving to your side, his hip pressed to yours while he wraps one arm around your middle and uses the other to turn your face into his shoulder. “You’re fine, sweetheart.” 

You feel childish and embarrassed, wetting his scrubs with your tears, but he only sweeps his thumb over your ribs, shushing you compassionately.  

“We’re going to give you the medicine now, try to stay relaxed.” 

You tense when you feel the cold wipe, and a quiet whimper slips past your lips at the bite of the needle. 

Remus’ hand tightens on your head. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. The needle slips out. 

“Breathe,” Remus instructs. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. You let out a tremulous exhale, and he brushes some hairs away from your face, your forehead still resting on his shoulder. “That was good,” he assures you. “You’re halfway done now.” 

“Thank you,” you say, more than a little humiliated as you swipe the wetness from your cheeks, sniffling. 

Remus offers a small smile. It’s absurd how much it relaxes you. “Don’t mention it.” He looks to the other doctor. “How do you want her for this next part?” 

“Lying down, please.” 

He turns back to you. “Okay? You want help?” 

Your good hand has gone back to holding your shoulder, so he uses a hand on your back to help ease you horizontal on the bed. Once you’re settled he coaxes your hand away, taking it in his own. His skin is warm and scarred in some places, cruel lines that feel like a violation to touch. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

Remus gets you talking, about the fall that landed you in here, your day before that, your life in general. His responses are understanding and amused at times, seemingly genuinely invested in what you have to say. As you speak his thumb is moving over the side of your hand, down to your wrist and back again, slow and hypnotic. A few minutes later, your eyelids and limbs are heavy, the movement of Remus’ thumb the center of your focus as he tells you about one of the many scrapes his ostensibly reckless friends have gotten into over the years. 

“Seems like it’s working,” he says with a little smile. You blink, not having realized he’d finished his story. “How do you feel, love?” 

“Sleepy.” Your voice sounds stretched and lazy. “My arm still sorta hurts, though.” 

Remus makes a sympathetic tsking sound. “Unfortunately, we can’t make all the pain go away, but it will be a lot easier than it would have otherwise.” He trades hands, taking your hand in his other one and using the first to make sure your face is angled towards him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you.” 

Somehow, that makes everything seem a lot more manageable. 

[farfromstrange]

New Year's Day | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You recount your history with Matt and the highs and the lows of your relationship.

Warnings: Fluff, descriptive writing & lack of dialogue, mentions of blood, but this is mostly very tame

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This One-Shot is dedicated to my bestie, @blackshadowswriter. I'm a bit late, and I'm sorry for that. It took me a bit to finish. I just want to tell you how much I love and appreciate you. I also know you love Taylor, so I thought "why not write a fic and use as many song references as possible? She's going to LOVE that!" You're my favorite person in the world and you deserve this. I love you. I'm all out of words because I'm anxious as hell about showing you this. It took me two days to finish. I wanted it to be as good as I could make it. I'm still not 100% sure, but I never am when it comes to giving gifts. I hope you like it <3 (This is also why I'm not tagging anyone else because this is a gift for my best friend and I intended it as such)

From the moment you bumped into him on the corner street of your favorite café, you knew that he was the kind of chance that would only come around once in a lifetime.

It wasn’t like you, at least not back then, to buy a stranger a coffee. And it was even less like you to give him your number afterward.

You had never been big on dating at that point in your life. You used to take things exactly the way they came to you, and dating never really seemed to fit into that narrative.

You preferred to lose yourself in your own world, a world where no one could touch or hurt you the way you’ve been hurt so many times in the past by people who claimed to care about you—people who claimed to love you, and in the process, you lost sight of the fact that there are still a handful of good people out there.

No one can blame you for thinking like that though. Your heart has been broken one too many times, and not just by broken relationships. 

Deep down, you craved to find someone capable of understanding all of you, not just the pretty parts. You almost felt pathetic for pretending you didn’t need it and still thinking that way.

But deep down, you craved to find someone who wouldn’t be afraid of sticking around, someone who would never leave you because life tends to get hard.

It seemed nearly impossible to find a person like that without breaking your own heart, so you decided to retreat into your shell. Better to keep your heart safe and protected than put yourself out there and be broken all over again, right?

Those stupid love songs on the radio and the endless romantic stories of your friends’ dating lives, however, fueled your need for the same kind of connection only a few songwriters know how to put into words.

You wanted to fall in love, find the right person, and heal. You wanted to figure out why love wasn’t like the burning red of sex and passion but golden, like daylight. A love living for. A love fighting for.

You felt so stupid, secretly pining for an innocent childhood dream that eventually got crushed after years of heartbreak, but that is what happens when someone becomes chronically lonely. You turned to daydreaming because at least in your head, your life could be perfect. Not just good, not just livable, but filled with love and happiness.

Truth be told, when you’re your own worst enemy and have an inner saboteur set out to destroy everything that could be remotely good for you because you truly believe you don’t deserve it, it’s hard to allow yourself to be open. So perhaps that is why you chose to lock yourself away and live in delusion instead. Not facing reality became standard procedure in your way of life.

You tried blaming it on your past, your broken relationships, and disappointments, and while that played a big part in your trauma, you also slowly started to realize that you might have been hurting yourself so you wouldn’t have to open up ever again.

In an attempt to erase all the problems, you became the problem. You became your worst enemy, someone chasing ghosts that stayed long in the past and only came back to haunt the living shit out of you. But that’s a survivable condition. 

You tried therapy, you tried turning your life around and starting anew, and while that helped you find a job you love, find a nice group of friends, and make peace with what’s been broken, nothing else seemed to change. 

You had barely started putting yourself back together again when you bumped into him. You were late for a meeting, so your focus was on your phone instead of the street before you.

It was your fault. He was just trying to make his way over the sidewalk, his cane tapping in a steady rhythm to make his way forward, and you stepped right in the middle of it. 

You remember him grabbing your arm, catching you before you could fall. He wasn’t even irritated. When you looked up in shame, seeing the red glasses and the came, you begged for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t looking. Are you okay?”

But before you could go on a rant about your stupidity, he cut you off, and in the silkiest voice possible, he said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Are you?” 

“What?”

“Are you okay? You seem in a bit of a rush. Don’t want you to accidentally bump into a car next.” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. Blood rushed to his cheeks. “That was a bad joke, sorry.”

You just about melted. “It’s okay,” you found yourself chuckling. “And so am I. I was too focused on my phone. That was my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It happens,” he said. He was so calm about it, unlike other New Yorkers you’ve met before.

Maybe the fact that you found him extraordinarily attractive and easy to be around compelled you to ask if you could buy him a cup of coffee to make up for bumping into him, completely abandoning your plans to make it to your work meeting five minutes late.

He introduced himself as Matthew. A lawyer. Not one of those rich defense attorneys who simply do it for the money. No, he does it to help people, and you fell for him right then and there. 

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was just dumb luck, but that day, when you got home after work, his number in your phone and a stupidly giddy smile on your flushed face, you knew that you’d somehow been enchanted to meet him. 

You never believed in love at first sight until you bumped into Matt Murdock, but the second you did, your life flipped upside down and changed in ways you could have never predicted. 

It is possible that the song playing over the speakers in the café right before you bumped him played a part in how you perceived the interaction. You’ve never been one to believe in coincidences. Nothing is ever accidental, and neither was your meeting. It couldn’t have been. 

You found each other when you needed someone, anyone, both of you, and it stuck. Thankfully, it did. 

Summer that year was cruel with New York drowning in an excruciating heatwave. You’d been meeting up with Matt for a couple of weeks, but you didn’t have it in you to put a label on whatever delicate thing was starting to build between the two of you. You didn’t want to wrap your hand around it and accidentally shatter something you could see growing into something more in the future. 

He was unlike anyone you’d met before, and he treated you in a way that made you believe, finally, that you are worthy of love. Not just giving but receiving because Matt himself struggled to see his worth after years of being disappointed and being there for everyone but himself. 

Love is a fragile thing though, and you have never been quite good with fragile things.

After a night of drinking away your sorrows at a nearby bar, you made your way to his apartment. You took a cab, too wasted to find your way there by yourself. You remember that you were crying; you were miserable and loathing yourself for several reasons that didn’t even make sense to you then.

When you arrived there, you knocked on his door. You didn’t get an answer. Just as you started to turn around and make your way back outside, you could hear a thud from the other side of the door. Panic settled in. You didn’t even hesitate before you opened the door, which was surprisingly unlocked, and made your way into the dark interior of his apartment. 

Finding your blind, catholic not-boyfriend in a pool of his own blood, wearing a leather-clad suit with the horns of the devil had not been on your to-do list until that night. Reality hit you just as fast and knocked sobriety back into your senses as the adrenaline started to take over. 

He let out a grunt. Your name passed his lips. He sounded so weak, so fragile, and you just stood there, your heart pumping too much blood for your body to handle. 

“What the fuck?!” you said. You didn’t yell, you didn’t snap, you simply didn’t know how to process this information. 

You were well aware of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen parading outside at night, beating up criminals and giving them a good fright—Matt did not fit the picture you had of the guy until you saw him lying there, obviously injured. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said hoarsely. He tried to roll over, but the pain turned out to be too severe. 

Needless to say, he passed out on you without a proper explanation, and you somehow had to use what little you could remember from first-aid to help this bleeding mess of a man. You feared that you would lose him that night, and that was when you realized that, on top of falling for him, you didn’t care who he was, you only needed him to live.

When he woke up to you hovering over him, he groaned. “I’m sorry,” was all he said. “I’d understand if–”

“Don’t talk,” you cut him off with a finger on his lips. You wouldn’t let him push you away. Not after everything you’d been through.

He tried to sit up. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“It’s not exactly something you lead with on a first date. I get it. What I don’t get…”

“I didn’t lie,” it was his turn to cut you off. You remember looking up at him, and you heard him out. You had to. In your mind, there is an explanation for everything, and you were once again proven right at that moment.

He bared his life story to you, how he survived through tragedies no human should ever have to face. How he turned blind, how his senses heightened, and how he lost the one person he could always count on. When his father died, something changed in Matt. He tried to go straight, to do his father proud, but he couldn’t ignore this desperate need for justice forever. He felt cursed. So, he became someone who could make a difference, and not just as a lawyer.

He expected you to walk out, but you didn’t. You saw him for who he was, and you accepted him.

“I think I’m falling for you, and it scares the hell out of me,” you blurted out that night.

He stared at you, his unfocused eyes bewildered, his lips moving soundlessly as he tried to find an answer.

Just when you thought he would break your heart after putting your trust in him, he let out a shaky sigh and he kissed you.

He wasn’t ready to say it back just yet, but he spoke to you through actions that made you feel confident in what you were growing again.

You somehow already knew back then that Matt Murdock would be the man you one day would marry and spend the rest of your life with. 

The truth is, you two have been through a lot throughout your relationship. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t worth it. 

From the moment you met him to the countless dates, sharing coffees over empty takeout containers, kissing in the rain, Daredevil, fighting over the beautiful women in his life that almost broke you, and fighting over his desperate need to push those away who only want what is good for him because he is own worst saboteur.

It all led you down a journey that turned out to be harder than expected and not at all the love story you envisioned, but it still turned out to be the best thing that has ever happened to you. He is the best thing that has ever happened to you. 

You used to run away from happiness out of fear of getting hurt, and Matt did the same. He feared to admit it, but then he met you and he finally realized that running was of no use because you were more than ready to stick around through everything. Through every disaster and heartache—through every broken bone, you stuck around.

You saw something in him from the moment you met that no one can ever take away. You got a taste of heaven from the devil himself, and even though he was darker than the sunshine you wished for in your life, you managed to find a way to bring some light into his life. 

You are sunshine, even on your worst days, and he’s midnight rain. But you love the rain. You love him. 

Your first kiss happened in the rain. He took your hand and asked you to dance, and you did. You danced to the sound of the raindrops pattering against the asphalt beneath your feet, and it was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—Matt engulfed in the soft moonlight, his hand in yours, and a big smile on his irresistible lips. 

You want more of those nights. Even the nights you’ve had to patch him up or hold him as he broke down from all the weight he often enough carries on his shoulders, you want more of those. You want all of them.

You want him and all the strings attached to him, no matter how painful because ever since he can remember, people have walked out on Matt and hurt him in ways you can only fathom. You don’t want to be that person. 

He opened up to you. He decided to be vulnerable. He stood with you through everything and fought for you when you thought you two wouldn’t last.

He gave you his best smile and his tears, and he laughed with you every night that you waited up for him to come home safely. He quickly became the moonlight to your sun—it is a different kind of light, but it is a light that sustains you nonetheless. 

You want all of his laughter and never miss it again. You want his smiles. You want his tears. You want to spend every waking second with him. You want to miss him and welcome him back home after an agonizingly long night of worrying. You want to cheer him up in court and be his lucky charm. You want to wear his initial on a chain around your neck, in Braille, because he got it for you on your birthday. 

“I know I don’t own you,” he said to you, “but I love you. And I know you. I want you to carry me close to your heart the same way I’ll always carry you close to mine.”

And his, you are. You’re no one else’s but his, and even if that sounds a bit territorial, you don’t care. You want all of it and more because it’s Matt you’re talking about, no one else. Not a stranger but the man you love so desperately it hurts sometimes.

All the girls he loved before don’t matter because he’s got you now. You forgave him more times than he probably deserved. You held on when he barely had any strength left. In return, he has shown the same kind of devotion to you time and time again. How can you ever say no to any of that when you are so in love? 

All those memories replay in sudden flashing sequences right in front of your inner eye. You love him more than anyone has ever loved him. You pulled him out of a very dark hole. You saved his life. And he saved yours. 

As he’s kneeling in front of you now, your hand in his and clutching the small, velvety box in his other, your life passes by before your eyes. Your life alone and your life together. You recount every memory in a millisecond, too shocked to even comprehend what is happening. But it is happening. 

Matt Murdock is kneeling on the floor before you, the glitter, confetti, and sticky champagne someone spilled earlier most likely leaving a stain on his good dress pants, but he remains unwavering in his decision to open that little box and show you what he’s been hiding for a while. 

It’s a diamond ring, something he probably took months to save up for. It’s small yet elegant, and it’s staring right at you. He’s taken his glasses off to try and do the same. You would marry him with paper rings, that much is true. 

Matt says your name oh-so-softly. “Will you marry me?” Four words that stop your heart and restart it at the same time. 

He sees right through you. You see right through him. Even in your worst times, you were there for each other, and now he’s asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Together. To give him all of your days and nights and he will give you all of his in return. He is asking you the question you’ve been wondering if he would ever ask it, and he did. 

The fireworks go off in the distance, in your stomach, everywhere. The new year has rounded the corner. People are cheering and celebrating around you, but you don’t pay attention to them. 

The clock strikes midnight and with the softest smile, you say, “Yes.” You don’t need to tell him that you would do it a million times over because he knows. He knows your heartbeat, and he knows that you would never lie to him. 

He doesn’t waste time to pull you into his arms and kiss you softly, passionately, as if both of your lives depend on it. 

It’s a bit cliché, to get proposed to on New Year’s Eve. To start the new year with the man you love and a ring on your finger. But that only means that you will still be together on New Year’s Day, and all the days after that. 

Matt chose you. You chose Matt. You chose a life together that is as unpredictable as they come, but at least you have each other to hold onto. 

And he will never be just the stranger that you bumped into in front of your favorite corner café ever again. You have him now. Maybe that was your plan all along. Maybe you are the mastermind he knows that you are. None of it was accidental. 

And now, Matt Murdock is yours. Forever and always. 

[unbreakabledawn]

The good part about being injured was the popsicle.

The bad part was literally everything else. Dick's chest hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, worse than any bruise or scrape or bump from the numerous falls he'd gone through at Haly's, during practice for a show, or playing outside, climbing trees and vaulting across playgrounds. Never bad enough to need to go to a hospital, just band-aids and warm wash cloths and ice packs.

We should tattoo a band-aid on you, it would save us time and money, his dad would say every time Dick scraped his knee, which was every other week. And his mom would brush the hair back from his forehead, kiss his cheek with a warm hum, and sneak him a popsicle even though it was Wednesday and he wasn't allowed sweets on weekdays.

Another pang of pain flared in Dick's chest, and it wasn't his ribs this time.

And Bruce freaking poking right where the pain was at its worst did not help at all.

"Ow," Dick yelped, scowling at Bruce.

"I'm sorry. I need to examine you." Bruce continued pressing gentle fingers to Dick's side, moving along the bones and the edges of the blooming bruise. "Is it hard to breathe?"

"No," Dick said, lips wrapped around his strawberry popsicle. "Just hurts a little. If I breathe deep."

"Where does it hurt the most? Here, or here?"

Dick used his free hand to trace the throbbing center of pain. Bruce nodded and reached for his hand, slipping a small plastic clip with a tiny screen onto his finger. "Um, what's that?" Dick asked, watching numbers appear on the screen of the clip.

"Pulse oximeter. It measures the oxygen saturation in your blood." Bruce was now pulling a stethoscope out of a set of drawers. He'd shown Dick how to use one a few weeks ago, slipped the ear pieces into Dick's ears and placed the little disc on his chest so Dick could hear the slow, steady drum of his heart. Bruce was leaning forward to place it on Dick's chest now.

"Can you at least wait until I've finished my popsicle?" Dick said, sullen, trying not to squirm as the cold metal slid across his chest while Bruce told him when to breathe.

"You can multitask. It's a useful skill to have. Lean forward," Bruce instructed, and repeated the procedure on Dick’s back.

"I'm okay," Dick said, because Bruce was acting like the one who'd crashed straight into a concrete ledge instead of Dick. He'd been practicing hand flips in the garden, and he'd stumbled on a cracked tile and fallen and hit the side of his chest on a stone flower bed. Ugh, how embarassing. His first injury after moving in with Bruce, and it wasn't even as Robin! And still, Bruce had whisked him down to the Batcave's medbay, promising him a popsicle in exchange for being allowed to check him out.

"Yes. I just want to make sure," Bruce said, worried frown still firmly in place. He was scrawling notes on a chart, because he was a freak like that and needed to document the fact that Dick was clumsy enough to get himself injured playing in the garden.

Dick sighed and licked off the last bit of the popsicle, and the juice that had dripped onto his fingers.

The sound of something large being wheeled closer made Dick freeze. He looked up towards Bruce, who was bringing some sort of machine to the gurney Dick was laying down on.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked, alarm bells ringing in his head over the whirring and humming of the strange machine.

"This is a portable x-ray device," Bruce explained while he manipulated the machine into position. "I need to take an x-ray of your chest."

X-ray? That’s what they used for broken bones, wasn’t it? Crap, did that mean he broke his ribs?

“But I’m fine,” Dick said, trying and failing not to let his panic bleed into his voice. “I don’t need it.”

Bruce paused, hands on the handles of the machine’s head pointing it towards Dick’s chest. He peered down at Dick. “It’s just an x-ray. It’ll take me two minutes.”

“You don’t need to,” Dick said, accidentally raising his voice. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Dick,” Bruce said gently. He hesitantly reached forward to brush the hair off Dick’s forehead. “It won’t hurt, you won’t feel a thing. It’s like a big camera that lets us look inside your chest.”

Dick stared up at what must be the lens of the camera. He bit his lip. It didn’t look like it would hurt. “How does it work?”

“This”—he touched the head of the machine—“sends out x-ray beams. They go through your body and this plate catches them, creating an image.” He held up a wide, black plate. “So I need to place this under your chest.”

“What are x-ray beams?”

“We can do a radiation physics lesson tomorrow, if you like. For now I need you to lean forward for me.”

He did, and let Bruce place the cold, hard plate behind his back. It wasn’t comfortable, but Bruce said two minutes. He could handle two minutes.

Bruce put on some sort of black apron, and attached a broad collar around his neck. “Lead protection,” he explained to Dick, and held up a remote that looked like the trigger to a bomb. “Ready?”

He nodded.

“Breathe in.” A buzz and a louder whirr. “And we’re done.”

Dick opened his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Oh. That wasn’t so bad,” he admitted, leaning forward again so Bruce could remove the plate and put away the equipment. "So,” Dick said once Bruce returned to his bedside. “Are my ribs broken?"

"I don't know. Probably not." Bruce was writing something down in the chart, but the line between his eyebrows was the familiar I'm-Concentrating frown instead of a Oh-My-God-You're-Hurt frown, so Dick felt more annoyed than upset for the moment.

"What?! What do you mean you don't know? What was the freaking point then?"

"I needed to check your lungs. Rib fractures can be hard to see or even undetectable on chest x-rays."

"Oh. So my lungs are okay, then?"

"As far as I can tell. I'm no radiologist."

Dick rolled his eyes. Good thing Bruce wasn't a doctor, because his bedside manners sucked. "Hmph. Well, you owe me another popsicle. Since I let you do an x-ray on me."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, and Dick just barely caught the quirk of his mouth before he smoothed out his expression again. "You drive a hard bargain, chum. Strawberry or pear?"

"Strawberry. Duh."

-

a/n: this is 50% due to @froizetta asking me about rib fractures for her fic, and 50% due to a patient i had last week: a young girl around dick's age who started sobbing as soon as i called her name for her exam, and who continued loudly sobbing throughout the two minutes it took to take a single x-ray of her hand. she was terrified, hospitals and medical tools and big machines can be scary to little kids! i work with a large variety of patient groups and kids are definitely the ones i struggle the most with, so this writing exercise also has professional merit (<- me making excuses for self-indulgent fic)

[ao3 link]

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 8- Five Steps Forward

Masterlist AO3

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: Things will get interesting in the next chapter. Anyway, I have every chapter outlined but sometimes when I write I stray from the plot. I did so a bit here. I wanted to work on the chemistry between Reader and Valeria. It's hard trying to write heartfelt moments with Valeria while also trying to keep her canon personality

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH20.), Dual POV

Valeria is finally making back all that lost revenue. She sifts through reports and graphs over the last few weeks. Watching that little green line slowly crawl up. Larger batches for a lower price proved to be a good business move. Despite now finally rivalling the Super Meth, Deigo still wants to go down to Pajaro Azul. Snuff out the competition anyway. Valeria still finds herself wary of treading on hostile territory, but she sees where he's coming from. Having another product that close to your own in quality is cutting it far too close for comfort.

She sets aside the stack of papers. Things are finally getting good, but they aren't yet stable. At least she's making progress with you. You two have even had your unofficial first and second dates. Cooking meth together and drinking wine. Maybe you didn't see those events as dates, but Valeria certainly did. She's confident there's something growing between the two of you. Valeria stretches and yawns. She had offered to have you come over, to paint you. Truth is, she's painted you already. Quite a few times. Each attempt more accurate than the last.

Although for each five steps forward you seem to take two back. Valeria thought you'd be more comfortable at work if she presented herself as a friend, but you've gone back to yourself imposed isolation. Valeria hardly sees you and when she tries to speak your answers are all dry and bare bones. It's frustrating for Valeria but she's not giving up on you. She wonders how you'll feel when she tells you who she sent to Pajaro Azul. a couple enforcers as well as Corra. Will Corra's absence make you feel better? It certainly made Valeria feel better. she knows you don't want anything to do with Corra, refusing to even stay in the same room as her, but Valeria feels paranoid that for whatever reason you two will fall back on speaking terms. She still views Corra as a threat to you and her. Having her gone really makes life better.

Wood scraping against wood sounds through the room as Valeria stands, pushing her chair back. She runs her fingers through the shiny black strands of her hair, which now dangle against her shoulders. Her hair is getting longer, she muses. She needs to cut it soon. Valeria adjusts her belt and holsters before making her way towards the door. Time to put an end to your isolation. Valeria strides down the long halls with purpose. she goes unstopped, people know better than to bother her. She keeps a sharp eye out though. Watching for any unacceptable behavior. She's had too many of her men get high on the job. 

Seems everyone is on their best behavior today. Valeria stops in front of the metal door leading down into the concealed, illegal, very professional meth lab. She gives the door a few, swift knocks before walking inside.

"Suit!" You bark without looking at her. Valeria inwardly sighs. You always stick so closely to rules and safety procedures. It makes you an excellent worker, but sometimes Valeria thought you could do with some loosening up. 

"Why don't you come out here and take a break." She suggests, voice echoing through the room. "You've been down here for ages."

"Can't lose my flow." You reply. Struggling to lift a heavy container. The pseudoephedrine, if Valeria is remembering correctly.

Valeria leans against the wall. Unimpressed.

"Take a break." She says firmly. You awkwardly halt, instinctively wanting to follow her orders but then you go back to work. Pouring the pseudo into a flask. Valeria says your name. "Take a break."

You finally stop and turn to face her. Watching from behind the glass eye holes of your gas mask. You don't speak though. Instead, you reluctantly approach her. Moving past her up the stairs. In the hallway you take off your gas mask. She watches appreciatively as a bead of sweat slowly drips down your neck. Valeria moves to stand beside you. Crossing her arms over her chest.

"How's it going?" Valeria asks. "You almost done this batch?"

You shrug. "Halfway there." That's it. Halfway there. Valeria waits for you to speak. You don't. You stand there stiffly and stare off into space.

"Did something happen?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at you. Apart from the whole thing with Corra but Valeria doesn't think you should still be upset over that.

"No, why?" You don't even look at her as you speak. It annoys her. 

Valeria raises a hand and scratches her nose. "Because you've been moody for weeks, acting like a sullen teenager."

You frown at her. "I'm not acting like a 'sullen teenager.'" You say defensively. 

"No?" Valeria says, raising her brows. "Sure seems like it."

You scoff at her and smile, though you're not amused. Still, even though your smile isn't genuine she thinks it looks good on you. She'd like to see you do it more often. "Am I supposed to just smile and laugh all the time? Is that how I have to be to avoid being accused of being a 'sullen teenager'?"

Your anger is better than your silence. Valeria leans in and gets in your face.

"You're acting like one right now." She sneers. "Just a few words away from 'it's not a phase, mom!'"

You recoil with an appalled expression. "You're just like the rest of them." You snap. Catching Valeria off guard. "Doesn't matter what I do or say it's never the right thing for you people."

"You people?" Valeria parrots, furrowing her brows.

"Yeah, you people." You retort. "I cook meth for you, I'm not here to be some social butterfly, and news flash-" Your voice raises. "-I'm allowed to be upset."

Valeria frowns at you. "Relax, I'd remember who I'm speaking to if I were you." She warns quietly. Though she is considering your words.

She watches you shake your head. As if you were disappointed with her. That's definitely not what she wants. Valeria swallows her irritation. 

"Why are you upset?"

"You accused me of acting childish."

"I accused you of acting like a sullen teenager." She corrects. "You were upset before that though. Why?"

You eye her like she's setting a trap. "It doesn't matter how old I or the people around me get. Nothing ever changes." You reply. "It's like there's something wrong with me and they know it at first glance. I'm treated like a joke."

Valeria almost empathizes with your frustration. "Do you think I see you as I joke?" She asks.

You don't respond right away. Chewing on the inside of your cheek and you mull over your words. "I'm not sure how you see me." You admit. "Sometimes it feels like you value me and the work I do here and sometimes I get the feeling that you see me as some sort of pet."

Silence settles in the dust between the two of you. Your words lingering in the air like moisture. Valeria breathes it into her body. Absorbing them.

"I do value the work you do." Valeria says. For once she's being completely honest. Not just saying things to butter you up. "You're intelligent and reliable. Without you we wouldn't be making the money that we do." The Cartel was making plenty before you came into the picture but after Valeria's incarceration, profit plummeted. They'd likely still be struggling or have crumbled completely if you hadn't boldly stridden into her office demanding a job. You were transparent in what you had to offer and looked her in the eye the entire time. it impressed her enough to hire you. Sometimes she wished she turned you away though. Her attachment to you is frustrating.

"Any chemist worth their pseudoephedrine could cook meth." You reply dismissively. Crossing your arms and looking away. You're much more relaxed though. A clear invitation for Valeria to continue.

"Sure." Valeria says. "But you're cheaper and I find you tolerable."

"I'm tolerable and cheap. You really know how to flatter a girl." You say dryly.

Valeria stares at you intensely. 

"I'll do more to you than simple flattery, chemist." She says quietly. She catches you off guard. Watching you ponder over the meaning of her words. Innuendo or threat, you don't seem to know. "I've decided to send some people over to Pajaro Azul."

You frown. "Why?" 

Valeria can practically smell the insecurity seeping out of your pores. 'You don't think my product is good enough?' "It's a good idea to crush this issue at the source, eliminate the competition and their customers will become our customers."

"What about the Cartel down there?" You worry. 

Valeria narrows her eyes. "You don't think I'm able to handle them?" She asks. Valeria doesn't like the idea of looking weak, but she especially doesn't want you to see her that way.

You shake your head quickly.

"No, but I don't want it to cause unnecessary problems."

Valeria lays a hand on your shoulder. Feeling the warmth from your body through the thin plastic of your scrubs. "Some problems are necessary, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?"

"You won't need to worry about those ones, just cook us meth and I'll deal with everything else."

She manages to shut down any other protests. For now.

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Marcus Pike Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Porn Star Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Summary: Marcus invited you out for pancakes after you did your scene together, but where are you now?

Word count: 676

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: pornography, allusions to sex acts, clit play

A/N: This takes place after the events of The Sweepstakes: Marcus Pike so read that first!  I hope you enjoy what I’ve imagined here.  Thank you for all your support of this horny series. I am having too much fun (there’s no such thing) with it!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

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You squirm on the couch as you watch Marcus on screen.  His beautiful back is to the camera, a view you didn’t get to see that night, all firm muscle and golden skin.  You admire, as you do every time, how his broad shoulders taper to his trim waste.  Below is still covered by his jeans.

He’s eating you out, pulling wanton noises from your mouth as he thoroughly takes you apart.  Heat pools low in your belly as you vividly remember how it felt to have him between your legs.  You watch, breathing heavily, as you come apart under Marcus’s legendary ministrations.

The urge to relieve some of the pressure building in your center is almost too much to bear, but you know it will be so much better if you can just hold off a little longer.

You hear the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the thud of a bag of groceries landing on the kitchen table.

Your eyes never leave the screen.

“Again?” Marcus asks with a chuckle, walking into the room, completely unfazed by the sight of himself, now naked and having his cock sucked, on screen.

“You were gone all day!” you whine, writhing on the couch with the effort of not touching yourself.

Marcus shrugs off his jacket and steps out of his shoes.  “Can I help?”

You nod and scootch forward on the couch, leaving just enough space for him to snuggle in behind you.  It takes a bit of effort with how broad he is, but it’s so worth it when you sink back into his warm chest, and he wraps his arms around you.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers in your ear before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.  You chase his mouth, but he pulls away.  “No, no.  Keep watching.”

You turn back to the recording.  Video Marcus is lining up his beautiful cock to fuck you senseless.

Couch Marcus slips his hand down your pants.

Your hips buck into his hand with the first contact, you’re so worked up already.

“So wet, baby, just from watching.  We do look good together,” Marcus rasps.

You moan in response, unable to form words as his talented fingers circle your aching clit.  On screen you climax again and Marcus dives into your pussy to eat you out while you come.  It’s your favorite moment of the video and you can’t help falling over the edge with Marcus whispering how good you feel in your ear.

As you come down from your high, you turn to snuggle face first into Marcus’s chest, pressing pause on the remote.  “You don’t want another?” he teases you.

“I do, but not right now.”  You kiss his soft lips and smile.  “How was your audition?”

“It went well, I think I got it,” he smiles bashfully, pink tinging the tips of his ears.

“Marcus!  That’s great!”

Marcus has a thriving porn career, but the reality is that it has a time limit.  So, he decided to diversify and has been trying to get more acting roles.

“Remind me what this one was again?”

“Well, it’s a 6-episode arc on a crime procedural.  I would play an FBI agent in the art crimes division—”

“Just like in your videos!” you interrupt excitedly.  Marcus often plays an FBI agent in his softcore movies.

He laughs.  “Kind of.  I would be the love interest of one of the main characters, but in the end, she chooses the other guy.”

“No one is going to believe that,” you laugh.  “You’re too handsome and charming.  Is your character a weirdo or something?”

Marcus laughs, “Not in what I’ve seen so far.  A little intense maybe.”

“Good luck to the writers explaining that away then.  I’m so proud of you!”  You kiss him deeply, melting into his plush lips and warm chest.

“Do you want to watch the rest of the video?”  He asks between kisses.

“Nah, I’d rather have the live show.  Let’s go to bed, Marcus.  I need to congratulate you properly.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Series Masterlist

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Worship of a Maiden (F!Reader x M!Satyr)

Pairing: Fem!SoftDom!Reader x Sub!Male!Satyr

Genre: Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluffy Smut

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1361 words

Summary: Your lover does so much for his community, holds so much weight on his shoulders. It only makes sense that you’d take that weight off once in a while

Request: Hi there! I wanted to make a request for a soft femdom reader x male satyr please, if you're interested. Featuring praise, using his horns as handles during cunnilingus, and a titjob as a reward for pussy well ate. Thank you for your time.

On a long day of doing nothing, nothing hots better than an afternoon nap.Especially in your grove, where the sun hits it perfectly at its peak, warm yet not oppressive between the overbrush. The grass feels like a heated quilt against your back, the sound of fresh water trickling from the stream nearby.

You were only asleep for 40 minutes, just letting your eyes rest for a moment in peace. You’re half-awake when Lyterius starts kissing your neck, his stubble scratching against your jaw.

“Hello Handsome.” You yawn, arms stretching as your back arches. Lyterius doesn’t answer, instead nuzzling his neck into the gap of your shoulder and neck. Your hands find their place in his thick curls, rubbing gently into his scalp. “How is everybody?”

Lyterius groans, nuzzling deeper into your neck.

“The council still giving you trouble?”

Calling them a ‘council’ is a bit of a stretch, as the gathering of satyrs is more like a town-hall, with no official leaders or strict procedure, and a lot more wine and drugs.

Lyterius, as one of the older satyrs, often had to wrangle everyone together, make sure that the satyr's connection with nature and Pan was still flourishing. That the young ones weren’t getting too rowdy and forgetting their duties to the forest.

It was a heavy duty for a man who’d much rather be fishing and playing his banjo, a burden that wore him down.

You don't need a direct answer from Lyterius to know he was stressed, that he needs someone else to take the reins for a bit.

Your hands knot tighter into his hair, and kiss his cheek with force. He becomes like honey in your hands.

“Please…” Lyterius moans, “Let me taste you, mistress.”

“Such a polite boy you are.” You kiss the corners of his lips, pulling away as he chases you for more. He likes the chase, the temptation, even if he whines like a brat sometimes..

You shimmy backward on the grass, letting your legs spread and your linen dress fall to the side. Your pussy is bare, already beginning to slicken from Lyterius’s debaucherous gaze.

“Come here, baby. Serve your mistress.”

Lyterius falls to his stomach like a devout man of prayer, scrambling to slot himself between your thighs. His short tail begins to twitch and wag behind him, his calloused hands groping up your ass.

You let your head fall back to the grass as Lyterius takes a whiff of your heated sex, his body trembling as his tongue flickers out of his mouth. His first licks against your lips are soft, too soft. Your hands wrap around the edges of his curled horns and yank him closer to your cunt. A throaty moan vibrates your pussy lips.

“That’s it, dearest. Eat me properly.”

Lyrerius throws himself into his work, drinking your slick like it's an oasis. He licks a long, flat stripe against your clit, groaning as your legs clench around his pointed ears. He sucks on the nub like it's a fresh nectarine, soaking up your contented moans and the taste of your cunt.

By now you’re practically dripping, Lyterius diving head first into your walls with a strong thrust of his tongue. It undulates and pushes, trying to find the most sensitive area. His nose grinds against your clit, and you yank his horns back and forth so it rubs it just the right away.

Your core flexes as your head throws upwards, mouth open lewdly as you watch Lyterius please you.

“Good boy.” You purr, hands rubbing the base of his horns, one of his most sensitive areas. “You always know how to please me, baby. I’d think you were a priest of Eros himself from the you worship me.”

You can see Lyterius eyes rolling backwards from behind his eyelids, a pleasant shiver running down his spine. Another soft spot of his is your sultyr voice in his ear, whispering praises.

His tongue finds it was to your g-spot, thrusting and fucking it with fervor. You bite your lip, using your grip to hump against his jaw.

“F-fuck, that tongue.” You arch your chest, pushing your tits together. “You were made for this, made to be between my legs, to be my baby.”

Lyterius groans into your pussy, his brow furrowing. You notice the movement behind, the way he’s begun humping into the grass. He won't come without your permission, but the friction must be tortuous.

“I’m gonna cum.” You pant, chest heaving. Your hands yank more on his horns, slick bursting into his mouth. Lyterius doesn’t slow down, letting you rice out till completeion. “Fuck, Fuck!”

Your pussy spasms around his tongue, legs wrapping him in a chokehold as your body shakes from the orgasm, Lyterius still licking like a good boy. It's only with a push of your hands that he detaches, trails of your slick spatter around his jaw, his tongue stuck out like a dog.

You take a few seconds to recover, Lyterius pressing hot kisses into your inner thighs as your high slowly fades into embers. Your gaze lazily sweeps down to your lover, whose attention you catch with a pat on his head.

“You’ve been such a good pet, I think you deserve a reward.” Lyterius eyes light up at the word, arms trembling as you pat your chest. He scrambles up eagerly, but he is gentle as he sits in your sternum, trying not to be disobedient despite his growing impatience. His cock theaps against your chest, flushed with blood and leaking precum.

“T-thank you, mistress.” Lyterius pants, sweat and your juices beading his neck. He worries his lips between his teeth as you press your tits together around his shaft, the tip poking out near your jaw. “Thank you.” He grits, hips trembling with forced stillness.

“You may move, pet. This is for you.”

Lyterius wastes no time, planting his hoofs into the grass and gripping onto the side of your tits. His hands envelop yours, and his furry torso begins to humo into your breasts' warm embrace.

“Oh, gods yes.” Lyterius moans, his cock sliding wasily between your tits, aided by your sweat and his precum. “Your tits are incredible, mistress.”

You simply nod, more focused instead on the head of his cock, still dripping and only inches from your mouth. You’re feeling extra generous, and stick out your tongue so that his cock hits it at the peak of every thrust. His whole body shudders.

“Please, may I come on your face, mistress?” Lyterius’ voice trembles, brain scrambling from your soft tits against his cock. You smirk, tongue pushed out longer as you nod again. Lyterius whimpers with joy. “Thank you!”

His thrusts are sloppy, desperate in chasing that high from earlier. The taste of salty cum dabs on your tongue and you can feel him getting closer with each thrust. Heavy balls slap against your under-boob, tight and full of cum. Satyr’s always cum buckets, even with their near limitless stamina, and your pussy throbs at the thought of being covered in it.

“Thank you, th-thank you!” Lyterius yelps as his hips stutter and shake, his cock pulsing as a hot jet of cum flies across your tongue, almost reaching the back of your throat. You just keep smiling, feeling ropes and ropes of cum flood your neck, lips, and cheeks. Lyterius hooves dig grooves into the ground as he rides the crashing wave, falling to the side when he’s finally finished.

—

He pants into the grass, enjoying the lingering dew on his sweaty back and neck as Lyrerius falls to the side. He heats a faint giggle near him, the warm hand of his love patting his cheek. She grabs a handful of water and splashes it over her face and neck, washing herself and her hands before she grabs another and gestures it towards his mouth.

“Drink, my love.”

Water trickles out of the side of his mouth as he sips, barely able to lift his head off the ground. She chuckled again, then slides into his side. She traces circles into his chest.

Truly, what a wonderful maiden he worships.

[renx01]

Playing Along - Part 1

Prompt: “Just play along, please” inspired this multiple part fic, in which agent Galahad and Kay are on a mission together in the French Alps. Here, they have to pretend to be a couple, despite the two of them being rivals and Kay always wanting to beat him at everything. Pairing: Harry Hart x Kingsman!Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: fake dating, slowburn, rivals Word count: 2347

Masterlist

Harry and you have been sent on a mission together. While most of it is supposed to be gathering intelligence, there is a high-risk of having to kill some criminals to make sure they can’t spread word of your existence any further. Tonight is the first evening at the ski resort. The trip in and of itself wasn’t too eventful, Merlin flew the two of you to the French Alps, where you were picked up by a car and brought to the chalet you’ll be staying in. It is quite cosy, but still comfortable. It has two small bedrooms with a queen sized bed, a nightstand and a closet. You would have to share the bathroom, but that was standard procedure when it came to these sorts of missions. While Harry takes the room on the right, you take the one on the left and start unpacking your luggage. 

From the kitchenette you hear Harry’s voice ‘Tea?’ ‘Yes please.’ You call back out to him. Quickly, you put the last of your clothes in the closet, while you put your other supplies under the bed in their metal briefcase. Before walking to where Harry is, you quickly go into the bathroom and put your bag of toiletries into the cupboard. 

‘Do sit down, Kay.’ Harry motions you to take a seat and pours some tea into your cup. ‘Thank you Galahad,’ you sip your tea, ‘it’s lovely.’ He also takes a drink. ‘I always find a black tea and citrus blend warms one up quite well, especially in this sort of weather.’ His eyes shift to the window, yours following. A lot of snow had fallen the past week or so. ‘The predictions say it’ll start snowing again in two days.’ A surprised sound escapes Harry’s throat. ‘I’d hoped for clear skies, suppose we can’t have everything.’ He says matter of factly. ‘You only go skiing with good weather? I thought a bit of snow wouldn’t stop you.’ The teasing comment earns you a glare. ‘I don’t, however I do prefer some blue skies rather than grey ones that have snow constantly falling out of them.’ The agent scoffs.

Before finishing your tea, the two of you decide to talk through some of the plans for that evening and the upcoming week. ‘So we’re a couple? Or should we go another route with the story?’ He’s quiet for a moment. ‘I think that pretending to be a couple may be the most believable;’ his eyes divert, ‘especially considering that we will probably need to get close to other couples anyway.’ You nod. It wasn’t too unusual for you to play a couple when it came to missions such as this one, though it never went any further than some kisses on the cheek, holding hands, or having an arm around each other. Harry and you got along well enough, but there was always this underlying tension. He has always been favoured by Arthur and Merlin, probably partially because he has been a part of the Kingsman for quite a bit longer than you. Because of this, you always want to beat him, in whichever way possible. It remains unspoken, but you suspect Galahad enjoys it quite a bit. ‘The usual rules?’ You nod again. ‘Kay, you know I need more confirmation than you just nodding.’ ‘Yes, Galahad, the same rules as usual. No kissing on the lips unless absolutely necessary for our cover and no intimacy under any circumstances. Physical contact is to be kept to a minimum, holding hands or putting an arm around the other’s shoulder is fine.’ It was almost robotic as it came out of your mouth. ‘Good.’ He smiles. ‘Now, I was thinking we take the gondola up the mountain tomorrow morning around 9?’ 

The following morning you sat at the kitchen table around 8, a bowl of yoghurt and a cup of tea in front of you. Harry sits on the other side of the table sipping his tea as he waits for his toast. The both of you sit in silence until the both of you finish your breakfast and put on your glasses. ‘Galahad. Kay. Good morning to the both of you.’ Merlin’s voice is quite clear. ‘Morning.’ You mutter before Harry starts talking through the mission. Being more of a night owl meant that the early mornings which came with the job from time to time really weren’t your favourite. Pictures of some people flash before your eyes. ‘These are the targets. You’ll be pretty likely to interact with them either in one of the many ski huts or when you’re eating out in the evening. Try to befriend them in order to gain their trust and information.’ Merlin pauses. ‘So I’d like the both of you to avoid bickering in public.’ Harry looks at you. ‘Yes Merlin, I’ll try my best to not annoy Galahad too much.’ He scoffs. ‘It’s not that you annoy me, it’s just that you can be so incredibly incompetent at times, Kay.’ ‘As if you aren’t Galahad. Remember last year’s Christmas party?’ You retort. 

‘This is exactly what I’m trying to avoid here.’ Merlin interrupts you before you’re able to say anything else. ‘Look, the two of you are meant to be a couple. Act like it.’ The more annoyed the bald man becomes, the thicker his Scottish accent. The instructions were quite clear so you look Galahad in the eye. ‘Time to go skiing?’ Your voice drips in honey.

On the mountain itself, you didn’t speak to Galahad much, only discussing what slopes to take next and what off-piste routes may be of use if necessary. While both of you are quite proficient when it comes to skiing, Harry’s more old school, focussing on making those perfect turns and going at a steady speed. You, on the other hand, tend to show off from time to time, doing jumps or little tricks whenever you pass him. Around noon, you decided to have lunch together at one of the huts. This one had quite the amazing view of the slopes and nature surrounding it.

‘Je prendrai le croque monsieur avec un verre de vin, s'il vous plaît.’ Of course his French was impeccable. ‘Je prendrais les crêpes et un verre de vin, le même que mon ami, s’il vous plaît.’ While you had studied the language for a while, much more than ordering food wasn’t in your cards at the moment. Unlike most members of the Kingsman, or its candidates for that matter, you have not had a private education, meaning that you didn’t get much of an opportunity to learn foreign languages on a higher level. ‘You speak French?’ Harry asks you. ‘Not much, just enough to get by in restaurants and shops. I’d like to study it again in order to improve at some point in the future.’ He smiles. ‘It sounded pretty good, if you want I can teach you a little bit when we get back to the cabin? Before we go out for dinner.’ ‘Sounds good, thanks.’ You smile back. ‘Would you want me to teach you a few tricks in turn?’ Reaching out, he takes hold of your right hand and leans forward. ‘I don’t think I’m the type to learn tricks.’ He pauses and whispers. ‘Now, that couple at 8 o’clock is one of our targets. Let’s keep an eye on them throughout our lunch.’ The food arrives as he says so. He releases your hand and sits up straight once again. ‘Merci.’

The food was pretty good, the wine complimenting it well enough. After finishing, both of you order a cup of tea and sit in silence, enjoying the sun which finally came out from behind the clouds. You lean back in your chair, stretching your legs and closing your eyes for a moment. The cold air feels wonderful against your skin. You hear the chair in front of you move for a moment. Opening only one eye, you see Harry has grabbed a pocket-sized novel from his jacket and has started reading. Quickly, you close your eye again. It was quite comfortable like this, a last moment of rest before you’d have to go socialise and get close to the given targets. The current plan is that before you head back to your cabin, you'll visit an apres ski bar, as it’s likely you’ll meet more of your targets there and may overhear what they’re planning for the upcoming few days. There’s one bar which is particularly popular amongst the targets, so you decided that that would be the place to go that afternoon. But for now, you decided you’d just enjoy the peace and quiet.  After a few minutes, Harry closes his book. ‘I’ll be right back dear.’ You open your eyes and look at him, smile, and nod. You follow his figure with your eyes. It becomes clear that he’s following one of the targets into the bathroom, pretending on having to go himself. As you wait, you slowly drink some more of your tea, silently observing the woman that was with the target just moments before. You take a picture of her with your glasses and send it to Merlin and whisper, ‘Any idea who this is?’ His response is swift. ‘That’s Guilia Fontana. Her father is a quite well known criminal in Italy, I think she tends to be less prominent within his organisation. What’s notable is that she’s recently been spotted multiple times with our target Angelo Bianco, it seems they’re on holiday together.’ Shortly after confirming the information and asking a few more questions, Harry arrives, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek before whispering, ‘Good news, I know where we’ll have dinner tonight.’ You look at him confused. ‘Got a particularly good address from our friend, who’ll be eating there tonight as well.’ He smirks when he pulls away and sits down next to you, his hand resting on your knee. Had he not been a colleague you desperately wanted to beat at everything, you might’ve found this moment of closeness attractive, but considering everything, you were more annoyed that you didn’t discover it before him. ‘And what sort of food do they serve, love?’ The last word came out almost strained.

You spent a couple of more hours on the slopes before heading to the apres ski bar. During that time, Merlin informed you that he’d managed to get the two of you a table at the aforementioned restaurant. It was quite fancy, according to him, and it served mostly french food. 

At the bar, you go get some drinks. While ordering, a man moves to stand next to you. It happens to be the target Galahad had followed earlier in the day, Angelo Bianco. You aren’t too interested in talking to him immediately, but he starts up a conversation with you as you both wait. ‘Good afternoon, I think I talked to your man earlier today. What’s your name?’ ‘I’m Cameron, but you may call me Cam. What’s your name?’ You hold out your hand for him to shake it. ‘Nice to meet you Cam, I’m Angelo.’ He says as he takes it to shake it. ‘Likewise,  Angelo.’ You smile at him. ‘So what’s brought you here to France? Having a nice holiday?’ ‘Ah yes, me and my fiance are here on holiday, some of her family will be coming to join us in a couple of days. What about you?’ This was quite useful information, you’d have to try and stretch this as much as possible. ‘That sounds lovely. Me and my partner are here on a holiday trip as well, though we have quite different skiing styles, so it can be a challenge from time to time.’ He laughs. ‘I know what that’s like, Guilia only wants to take blue and red slopes, rarely is she open to going off the black ones. Park is never really an option either.’ This is perfect. ‘Yeah, Harry isn’t a fan of the parks either. I think it’s a mental thing of not wanting to jump or something. I’d love to check them out though, I’ve heard they’re pretty amazing here.’ Angelo’s eyes light up, exactly what you’d hoped for. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Harry approach as you continue talking to Angelo. ‘Ah hello Harry, how’s it going?’ The bartender finally comes up with your drinks and you quietly pay as the two men talk. ‘Cam and I were just talking about the ski resort and everything it offers. Perhaps we can meet with the four of us at lunch tomorrow, check out the parks afterwards? I heard you guys were new here so we could show you around if you’d like?’ Harry seems to hesitate, so you slightly nudge him with your elbow and join the conversation once again. ‘That’d be lovely Angelo, thank you for the offer. We’d love to have you show us around, maybe Harry and Guilia can watch while we do a few park rounds after lunch? I’ve heard there’s a hut that has a great view of it.’ 

While you secured the supposed “double date”, Harry didn’t look too happy; at least to those who are able to see through his pleasant mannerisms. After excusing yourselves, having had a couple of drinks with Angelo and Guilia, the two of you go outside. Turning a corner, into a dimly lit area, Harry grabs your elbow and angrily whispers, ‘What do you think you’re doing? Inviting us on a double date with some of the most well-connected Italian criminals? This was not a part of the plan Cam.’ The way he pronounced the last sentence was almost venomous. ‘Harry, this is our opportunity to gain more information than expected.’ You whisper back angrily. ‘It’s dangerous.’ He retorts.

‘As if everything else we do isn’t, Galahad. Just play along, please.’ You almost spit out the words before pulling your arm free and walking to your skis. You still had a dinner to attend later that evening after all.

[dr4kenlvr]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝'𝐲𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠?

chifuyu matsuno, baji keisuke, mikey sano, mitsuya takashi x gn!reader - fluff (0.9k+)

request: hey nana!! may i request how chifuyu, baji, mikey, and mitsuya would react to you getting a nose piercing? a ring or stud, doesn't matter :) thank u sm!!

warnings: mild descriptions of needles, pain (??) and poorly researched piercing healing processes (don’t listen to me guys i googled it all)

CHIFUYU; nostril stud

“how d’ya like my piercing baby?” you chime out, grinning happily at your phone where chifuyu’s face is absolutely BAFFLED at the stud in your skin

you face timed him out of the blue, but of course he picked up (chifuyu would pick up a call from you even if he was in the middle of getting his ass kicked LMAO)

“BABY—! STOP, IT LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD.”

chifuyu bites down on his knuckles to stop the grin from exploding on his face — he can’t help it, you look too good !!!

he’s totally enamoured by the jewel, and by how something so small and simple could enhance your looks tenfold

“you think? it’s still a bit swollen—”

“—nuh uh, couldn’t even tell.”

is scared to touch it when you two meet in person; “is it still swollen?”

“no.”

“but what if i hurt you?”

“you won’t, it’s completely healed.”

his finger hovers over the stud, before booping it slightly—“GAH, oh. it’s healed.”

it’s his new way of greeting you now; wave, kiss, boop on the stud

flaunts you to his friends because he thinks you’re fucking cool for withstanding the pain of the procedure and recovery process

“my baby is stronger than all of you, combined.”

“chifuyu, please. that’s a stretch.”

lowkey thinks he’ll cry if he ever got a piercing LMAOOOO

BAJI; bridge

eyes wide, jaw dropped, palms sweaty, his long ass hair ALL FELL OUT

“BABE WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOK SO HOT???!!!!”

pounces on you when he sees the unfamiliar pieces of metal on the bridge of your nose

“OH MY GOD LET ME TAKE PICTURES, WAIT.”

god he is so excited, you’re just sitting there grinning your ass off as he scurries to find his phone and literally crawls back onto his bed to snap photos of you from all angles possible

it’s quite endearing really, he’s just acting extremely ballistic but whatever it’s keisuke LMAO

“i’m never gonna get over this, my baby has a fucking nose piercing before me.”

he definitely has a pinterest folder named “tats and piercings 4 me” and it’s filled with photos of possible tattoos and piercing placements he wants

(his mom won’t let him)

when he calms down though, baji feels like he’s falling in love all over again with you

places a gentle kiss on each bead, and smiles oh so widely when he remembers you’re really his

he totally wants to accompany you on when you get your next piercing

is so fascinated with the whole process but when it comes to the needle going through your skin he actually looks away

“god, you’d think i’d be better at that.” LMAOOO oh baji <3

MIKEY; septum

despite being the leader of one of tokyo’s most strongest gangs—our mikey over here came not fathom the pain of a piercing

tears up at the thought of it actually

“YOUR NOSE!!!! OH MY GOD, Y/N.”

don’t get him wrong, he is so in love with you for this

he thinks the ring completely elevates your natural looks

the sparkle in his eyes was so cute—he looked at you like you were the brightest star in the universe

immediately took a photo of you and him and set it as his lock screen too

takes it in his liberty to tell the others before you do, or before they get to notice it themselves

“KEN-CHINNNNNNNNNN!!!! Y/N GOT A SEPTUM!!!!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP MIKEY. hey y/n—oh shit, you look fucking badass!”

LMAOOO u and draken can’t stand mikey

mikey does this thing where he likes to flick the septum back and forth

it’s goddamn annoying but he’s so cute all

“heheh look it’s like a swing!” he says, as he plays around with the ring between your nostrils

“MIKEY THAT TICKLES PLEASE.”

i don’t think he’d be the person to want a piercing, maybe something really small like on his ears but other than that, piercings are a bit out of his league 

doesn’t stop him from following you like a puppy on your next piercing appointment

he wipes your tear ducts for you <3

MITSUYA; side ring

AHHHHH mitsuya thinks you look SOOOO good

is quite obsessed with your side ring, and is instantly struck with the idea to get a matching one with you

eh? eh? he’s got matching tats with draken, so the prospect of matching piercings with the love of his life?

YES PLEASE

you head over to the studio with him, and he so giddy it’s so cute seeing mitsuya like this

goes through the process like a fucking CHAMP - barely even noticed the needle going in and out of his nose until the piercer said he’s good to go

(i love writing mitsuya as a goat HAHAHAHA)

“takashi! it’s all done!” you cheer, “we have matching piercings now!”

he grins that cute ass grin of his, happy that he went through with the idea (not that it took a lot of convincing himself)

you guys make sure that you both watch over the healing processes of your rings

he texts to remind you to clean it with saline solution, and you make sure that he doesn’t fiddle around with the ring as to not irritate the skin

y'all just looking out for one another it’s really cute

his sisters are so curious on how there’s a piece of metal stuck in your guys’ nose LMAO so so cute

“mana! brother taka has a ring in his nose!”

“what?! ah! y/n has one, too!”

they’re also really careful to not touch it as it continues to heal—too scared to hurt you and their big brother <3

taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @kazuhoya @gwynsapphire @sscarchiyo @reiners-milkbiddies @smileyswifeyy @bontensimp-blog @thisbicc @megumisemo @midnight-shaman (send me an ask or dm to be added!)

reblogs, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[lost-inthedream]

One night stand with SF9

Short headcanons

Pairing: sf9 x female reader

Warning: no feelings, just sex *shrugs*

Genre: smut

Bonus song rec: O, by OnlyOneOf

Youngbin:

Makes sure to take you to his place because he wants both of you to be comfortable.

Is slightly tipsy but seems to be trustworthy, especially thanks to his politeness.

Laughs so easily and kisses so good.

In his bedroom, he undresses you slowly so you can step back if you feel like it.

Thanks the stars you did not give up because the way he fucks your pussy while he kisses you is a present from heaven. He also, instructs you to moan for him.

Spoons you afterward and says you can stay for the night and have breakfast in the morning if you want to.

Inseong:

I know we are talking about hookups here but he enchants you thanks to his friendly aura. He snapped so many witty remarks between kisses and butt grabs.

Asks where you prefer to go for it because he does not have any strong preference, then you all end up deciding on an hourly hotel.

Fucks you a bit harder than you expected considering this is the first time you have sex. But forgive him, his cock is somewhat longer than average. He won't hurt you anyhow.

Likes to talk afterward and praises you for doing amazing.

Jaeyoon:

Making out with him in public is filthy as heck. You two need a room, otherwise you're gonna be arrested.

100% prefers a hourly hotel. This is his procedure not to catch feelings. He is a whore with a big heart (we can see it from his big tiddies).

Skipping to the hotel room, he fucks you against a wall before taking it to the bed. Semi-clothed sex because he is so impatient.

At least three rounds because your pussy is magical, according to him.

Almost sleeps thereafter, so you gotta remind him you are in a hotel.

Dawon:

He voices the most outrageous prophanities in your ear while you are at the bar. You KNOW he can take you right because he exudes those vibes.

Likes the idea of going to your place if it's possible. It just sounds more comfortable and tidy. Also, he can say goodbye whenever he feels like it.

He makes you ride his thigh on the couch, then he finally rails you on the floor.

May take a shower with you afterward as well as press you against the tiles before helping you clean. But definitely won't stay for the night.

Zuho:

Acts all mysterious while the two of you flirt for all to see. He is not really touchy at first but he might fix your blouse strap or anything. Also, he looks deep into your eyes.

Since he likes to talk about his works as a compositor too, he end up inviting you to see his studio. His intentions are clear though, it is getting late.

Zuho shows you his music tools while his hand traces up and down your hips. It goes like this until neither of you can take it anymore.

He does not give a fuck about that being casual, his mouth cannot stop kissing yours passionately. You all end up fucking while holding hands.

He wears you out so you HAVE TO sleep there.

Rowoon:

You already knew each other when he first approached you with that malicious smirk. He had never treated you like that before but you were not complaining.

Now you are at an after-party with a tall man who smiles at everything you say. "I could listen to your voice until the sunrise" he admits stirring his drink "Will you stay with me?"

You go to his apartment and have slow sex with him numerous times. Not in a row but you all have the compromise to stay awake, right?

He eventually falls asleep in the dawn, and so you do. Your bodies still smell like lust but you all will think about it later.

You keep on being just two people who know each other after all.

Yoo Taeyang:

He loves it if you come toward him. Taeyang makes clear that he is happy that you did the right thing. "I like cute girls with an attitude"

He is very discreet but is not scared of leaning close to your ear and asking to go to a private place with you.

He is fine with your place and definitely shows you another side of him when you get there. Taeyang is much more nasty than he looked outside. His large hands go straight to your butt cheeks once your lips connect.

In a second both of you get naked in the living room but he is fine if you prefer it slower. All his attention is on you and he boosts your ego with the way his dick gets hard in a split second.

He sleeps with you but wakes you up to say good-bye very early.

Hwiyoung:

The art of having you into him was built by him. I mean, he is someone you repeatedly meet on your way to work and he kept seductively staring at you as if you were a top model. He eyed you up from head to toe and apparently liked what you presented.

Once you started talking, he asked you out and there were you now: on top of his kitchen counter and aware that it was only for tonight. "You are so gorgeous" he reaffirms.

The way he eats you out definitely worths the awkward enconters that will follow it.

Hwiyoung's hold is firm yet calm, he makes you feel desired. The kisses are fluid and the orgasms, hard.

You wake up next to each other and he makes you breakfast.

Chani:

You don't think he has any second intention until he strikes a suggestive line after you say you need to go. "Wait, are you going without giving me a kiss?"

Okay, he was handsome but you have not suspected he was into you. You clumsily lean for a kiss on his cheek but he turns and clicks his lips on yours.

You do not give up on going home but he follows you toward there.

Let's be real, he might touch you inappropriately in the Uber, you and he make out in the elevator and you pull him onto the couch as soon as you enter your place.

He assures you that he is leaving afterwards but he actually dozes off naked in your bed and you have morning sex too. Then he goes home.

[mokagachas]

share with me your great wisdom of of snake gal and water gal for I have not played arknight is a bit

hm okay alright ( muses )

I’ll say right off the bat I’ve mentioned on this blog before that while I don’t dislike romantic ships by any means I find myself very rarely “shipping” characters by pure definition of the word I mostly just enjoy their dynamics and parallels and My Goodness ho’ol and mumu have that in droves with one another

The vast TLDR oversimplification of the two of them: Ho’olheyak and Muelsyse are the last/some of the last of each of their respective races, Ho’olheyak being the last of the K’uk’ulkan and Muelsyse of the elves. Both are long life species naturally, but Ho’olheyak has gone through a torturous ritual at a young age that all K’uk’ulkan go through where she is implanted with the memories of generations of K’uk’ulkan before her. The procedure cuts her life short, and while we don’t know exactly HOW short, its presumably not very long to go

Muelsyse and Ho’olheyak both go on quests to find out what remains of, or what happened to, their people. They both have rather different approaches to it, however, with Muelsyse holds out hope that she’ll find other elves still alive, going on a lone quest to hunt down what remains of them and ultimately discovering that yes, most have died out, partially due to their weakness to originium. Despite this, she herself stays in densely populated city areas and interacts with Infected people frequently, enjoying being a social person while also feeling agonizingly alone. Muelsyse is decidedly a Good Person.

On the flip side, Ho’olheyak almost agonizingly relies on using other people to get the information she wants, seeking less about the specificities of what happened to her race and moreso their purpose and affect. She infiltrates secret organizations, double and triple crosses whenever it suits her whim, and is an utterly self-serving person who has no qualms in committing atrocities to get what she wants- though this is not to be confused with commiting atrocities for the pure joy of it. She ultimately finds a “god” robot thing (long story) that more or less tells her that everything she’s been working for is more or less worthless and she doesn’t necessarily fall to despair, but she does become incredibly languid and passive, though she keeps her trade mark asshole-ish ness.

Muelsyse flat out says it in Ho’olheyak’s files: “We each have what the other lacks.” They’re characters that are Definitely built to be the inverse of each other despite having rather sparing direct interactions in events but being littered in each other’s files. It’s really interesting to me!

But while their long life parallels (or robbed lack thereof in Ho’ol’s case) and relationship with their ancestors are the most obvious connections to be drawn between them, what fascinates me the most is their social parallels and how their experiences have changed how they interact with the world.

Both of them feel incredibly alone in one way or another. For Muelsyse, this comes near to breaking her at times. Despite the people around her that she cares for, and who care for her, she has such a different life experience than everyone else that she feels a disconnect that cannot be bridged. Despite this, she does her best to form genuine connections with those around her, even if they fail to give her what she wants.

Ho’olheyak is alone and at least Thinks she doesn’t care about it. She doesn’t respect many people, if any at all. She shatters every possible connection she could have with a shrug, pursuing only what could benefit her and seeming impartial to what she does to have her way. She is alone yet clearly wants for more: why else would she be seeking for meaning in the K’uk’ulkan so desperately?

These are two people who have had such violently different lived, yet the closest either of them can get to finding someone who can even begin to comprehend the life they’ve led and the struggles they’ve faced is in the other person. They acknowledge to themselves that the other person share similarities, but have trouble crossing that final step due to how the other has acted is so contradictory to their personal motives.

They’re both drawn to and reject the other… I like it :)

[sibylsleaves]

Can you expand on your thoughts on redemptions in the show? I enjoyed Hen’s mother’s and Eddie’s fathers because we saw they are genuine in their willingness to change and have an understanding how they have affected their children. They aren’t perfect but it’s taking accountability and it’s a start. The others? No. With Taylor they give her a backstory to distract from her bad actions that seemed never ending. Now with Tommy. Do you think the writers/Tim think the general audience doesn’t pick up or remember how these people’s actions deeply affected the other characters(Buckleys, Chim’s dad, Taylor and the other T) before they bring them back and force people to have sympathy for them? I try to invoke nuance and empathy because losing a child is horrific but two living children did and still suffer from the Buckley’s actions. I am glad that Buck and Maddie appear to be moving forward despite their parents unwillingness to address and accept their role in how their children are to this day but that’s got to hurt deeply. As well as Chimney’s dad. And when Taylor left after causing the chaos and hurting so many people over the years they bring in someone else that has a grimey past that is already overlooked

you sent this to me a while ago and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to answer it. I saw it and I was like hmmm interesting topic I will ruminate on this and then of course I forgot about it.

Anyway. This IS an interesting topic to me because I feel like the concept of redemption is in many ways the raison d'etre of the show. Or at least they want it to be, given how they set up Bobby's character arc in the first season. It's definitely a theme they keep returning to with, imo, mixed results in their execution.

Part of the problem I think is just that 911 is fundamentally a basic network procedural television show, which is always going to tend more toward the schlocky and heartfelt. Which, don't get me wrong, is also one of the selling points of the show imo--we are not watching this show the way you watch prestige television that's maybe more willing to take its characters down a darker path and grapple with these questions with more complexity.

So at the end of the day it's kind of in the show's nature to want to tell feel-good stories, and to that end I think they are maybe more likely to brush off past wrongdoing in order to make the point that redemption is always possible and reconciliation is, almost always, the end-goal. There are a few storylines where they have characters who are simply painted as irredeemable monsters (Doug and Jeffrey are the main ones that come to mind) and what's interesting to me about that is they really have to heavily emphasize the monstrousness of those characters.

But fundamentally the show is just ill-suited to telling the story of like. Here's a kind of shitty guy (or woman) who isn't a complete and total monster by any means but nevertheless will not actually learn from his mistakes and seek redemption because sometimes people are just incapable or not interested in doing that. Or even: here is a kind of shitty guy or woman who did something fairly reprehensible and is trying to do better but nevertheless the people affected by their actions have every right to NOT forgive them or want them in their lives.

As a show it is overall more optimistic than realistic about the human condition--and again. I do think that's a selling point of the show and often what makes it work. Just thinking about personally some of my favorite moments of the show which are heavy on the "heartfelt/feel good": everyone coming together to lift the firetruck off Buck, the scene with the christmas lights during the black-out, the part in Defend in Place when they are all praying together in the parking lot.

But. all this to say. That does mean that sometimes their depictions of something as complex and messy as "redemption" can fall a bit flat. I do think the show has a pattern of "redeeming" characters without actually showing us that they understand what they did was wrong. They use short-hand instead--the Buckley parents sticking around after Buck was struck by lightning to show us they've changed, Tommy shaking Chim's hand after he saved his life, etc. And skip over the actual messy parts of the process of redemption. Which is also in part because these are, at the end of the day, side characters, and their internal lives are not really important except with respect to how they influence their relationships with our main characters. Which is also why I think the most nuanced take they've managed to do is with Bobby's story--at least with SOME of the Amir storyline it's clear that to Bobby this process is far from complete and the fact that Amir did not actually offer Bobby his forgiveness at the end is, in my opinion, the closest they've come so far to telling this story in an actually nuanced way. But even then they tied it up with about as neat as a bow as they could.

[riverz-pawz]

Who wants to know the gruesome story I made up todayyyy? Welp. Here it is! (Takes place before they had numbing and stuff. For some reason it takes place in a morgue. Don't ask.) TW: GRUESOME DEATH, SHITTY DOCTORS, UNSETTLING STORY, DEREALIZATION, PROBABLY SOME ETC.

-I get a stabbing pain in my eyelid to my brain... Probably a lobotomy... They didn't numb anything... Didn't put me asleep. They didn't have the technology at the time... It's like I'm in shock... I know what's happening, but I can't fight it... Like I'm tied down... Ropes on my waist and arms and legs... But I'm not struggling... The ropes are like buckles... They're attached to the table... I'm not trying to struggle... This isn't making anything better... It hurts... They're cutting the nerve in my brain... It's a lobotomy...They left me here... Tied down afterwards... They're gonna go get psych meds... I should've tried to struggle at first... They don't know why I didn't... I know I should have... But I didn't... It still hurts... The nurse walked in... She said that she's sorry about what they're gonna do when they come back. She asked if I'd rather die after because she knows I'm in pain... She knows that they aren't doing this because it's good for me... They're doing it as an experiment... They wanna know if I'll stay still for another procedure... She keeps saying sorry... She's crying... The nurse tried to tell them no. They told her to leave. She's still crying and telling me she's sorry about what they're about to do...? They forced her out... They let her back in but forced her to not try to stop the procedure... She hugged me... She's sitting on the floor and holding my hand... My abdomen hurts...I lifted my head up and saw what they were doing. I put it back down and stayed still... I look down at the nurse. She kisses my head and holds my hand tighter... Those sick fucks... No, no, no... They took my baby... That's what they did... They took my baby and ripped out my uterus... After the lobotomy, they wanted to see if I'd stay still... I'm crying but I'm not struggling or being hysterical... I'm just softly talking and asking them to leave my baby alone and asking why they took my baby... They cremated my baby... It's gone... The nurse is crying harder and telling me that she's sorry... They stitched me back up... They covered me back up... I'm still cold... I'm just laying there in a hospital gown... The nurse didn't leave she's crying and holding my hand still... She got me a blanket... It's warm and softly weighted... Fluffy... She gave me a stuffie... It's a fluffy cat.. Basically the size of my baby that was cremated... She said sorry and told me to just try to pretend... That it was gonna be okay... That I won't hurt anymore after a little while... She's softly running her hands through my hair and tracing my face... Wiping away the tears that keep falling... I'm tired... So tired... It hurts... The nurse is crying and telling me it's okay... That I can hold onto the stuffed cat and sleep... All warm and comfy... She even softly moved me just a bit so she could put a warm blanket under me too...It's getting dark... She shut the light off and put on a soft glowing lamp... Comfy and an orange- yellow color... She's playing with my hair while one of her hands is on top of the blanket... Softly rubbing where my wound is... It feels good... I'm comfy and warm... With my baby... But wait, it isn't my baby. My baby is gone, it's a stuffed cat... But that's okay... It's warm and soft... I'm sleepy but I don't wanna sleep... I don't want to... I'm scared. She's singing my favorite song... Humming and speaking... I look around one more time and she shows me a picture of my husband and son... My daughter... The nurse tells me that it'll be okay.... They'll know what happened. She doesn't care if she loses her job... She'll tell them...I'm crying and so is the nurse... She tells me to try to rest... That it's okay and I can sleep now... I close my eyes... I breathe and fall asleep... I'm gone... I'm dead... But at least it was warm...Little Ghost's story, please don't steal. Tag me if you repost. :]

[brigdh]

I used to write weekly reviews of what I was reading and post them to tumblr, but then I fell out of the habit. However, I did manage to finish some books last month, and maybe you will enjoy reading my thoughts?

The Centre by Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi. A thriller set in modern-day London. Anisa, a Pakistani immigrant from a wealthy family, dreams of translating great works of literature, but is stuck doing the subtitles on Bollywood movies. Her white boyfriend Adam speaks eight languages fluently, perfectly, like he was born to them. At first Anisa is only jealous, but then she learns that Adam is hiding a connection to the Centre, a mysterious organization that promises to teach anyone any language in only two weeks – for a price. And, well, who wouldn't be tempted? But visiting the Centre is only the beginning of Anisa's uncovering a whole host of secrets, as she meets and grows close to the Indian woman of her own age who runs the place; she and Anisa fall instantly into a close friendship which reveals some of Anisa's own missing pieces.

Anisa is a fabulous character – sympathetic and self-centered, unreliable and occasionally awful, trying her best but so often (like most of us) just justifying her own lack of action. The writing is fantastic, compelling and funny and sad and precise. Right from the first page, I had trouble putting it down.

The mystery of how the Centre does what it does is obvious from fairly early on, but I didn't feel like that was a problem. The drive of The Centre isn't so much about answering the question of "how?" but that of "what now?" Knowledge (of a language or of anything else) is power, but access to power is complicated by race, gender, sexuality, class, age, and so many other factors, all of which come into play. Anisa – and the other characters, and readers ourselves – want to remake the world for the better, but can she do so by using the tools of the powerful? Or would the act of using their tools change her into just another copy of them? The Centre doesn't answer these questions (and to be fair, how on earth could a single novel do so?), but the way it raises them and the dilemma it poses to Anisa is just so good.

Hugely recommended, and I can't wait for Siddiqi's next book.

Gilded Needles by Michael McDowell. A historical thriller set in 1880s New York City, focused on the rivalry between two families: the Stallworths and the Shanks. The Stallworths are upper-class, respectable, and include a judge, a preacher, a would-be politician, and a fashionable hostess of ladies' committees. The Shanks are sordid criminals, and include a fence, a prostitute, an abortionist (which, you know, I don't have much of a problem with, except that she cares less about her patients actually surviving the procedure and more about getting paid), opium addicts, and lesbians. They come to one another's attention when the Stallworths decide to lead a 'clean up the slum' operation to boost their own political prominence, which unfortunately happens to focus on the Shanks's neighborhood and ultimately causes the death of three of the Shanks. Black Lena, matriarch of the Shanks family, seeks revenge, and vows to kill three of the Stallworths in return.

This novel is better categorized as a thriller than as horror, which is unfortunate because I wanted something scary to read for Halloween. But despite that, it's hugely compelling, a real race of devious motives and sinister plots and squalid historical detail. Not a single character in the book is remotely likable, and despite their outward differences, the Shanks and the Stallworths are united in finding the very concept of morality irrelevant and laughable. The Shanks come out ahead as slightly easier to root for because at least they seem to like one another, whereas the Stallworths hate one another as much as they hate the poor, the unpopular, and the pathetic. Gilded Needles is a bit like watching a reality show, where everyone is terrible but you still have a great time throwing back popcorn as they tear the competition to bits.

A ton of trashy fun in a historical setting? My very favorite kind of book.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Adventures in Herps

Where I live is pretty good herp habitat.

For those less zoologically inclined, herp or herptile is a kind of zoologist catch-all term for reptiles and amphibians lumped together, as opposed to birds, fish, mammals, or any other odd vertebrates you might have lying around.

(Some very odd indeed. Tunicates, anyone?)

In some ways, it’s a decent way to lump things. Both groups are cold-blooded and similar in appearance, a lot of habitats, and often how they make a living (eating things smaller than them, mostly). Plus when you’re grabbing something hopping/squiggling/scampering along, you may not have a good enough look to identify exactly what it is, so you’d better know a bit about both.

(Yes, there are snakelike amphibians. Check out caecilians. Some of them provide “milk” to their young!)

So where I live I get to see a lot of things hop, squiggle, and flash their throat flags (anoles!) around the year. This has its ups and downs. Ups, in that I get to hear and see a lot of small living things that I know won’t hurt me, which is soothing to the soul. Seriously, even a huge skink that could take a bite out of your hand doesn’t want to, and would much rather wriggle under the building wall to hide out. Likewise the garter snakes; I once ran across, at night, a garter snake not too much more than a foot long, meaning it had just recently been born. (Ovoviviparous, they are.) It was much more interested in getting out of sight and possibly finding a tiny frog than bothering a human!

Downsides... heh. Well. When you live in good frog and toad habitat - and I have an ephemeral pond right nearby, so yeah - things can get noisy at night. The Electric Sheep are particularly persistent. But there are a few other hazards, particularly if you have a car. If you hear treefrogs calling at night, or you know there are treefrogs in the area... it’s not a bad idea to pick up a small stick and run it under your door-handle before you open it. Trust me, stick your fingers in once with a clammy frog trying to hide out there, and you never forget it.

(I know someone who has to keep clearing treefrogs out on a regular basis because they like to get into the nooks around their pickup truck doors. Operating procedure: pick up stick, then open door and scoot stick around, hopefully to get any frogs to hop out instead of inside the cab... and out, so they don’t get squished if you close the door!)

Lizards can also be a problem this way because anoles in particular like to hang out in the windshield wells. Don’t ask me why. They just do. Meaning every once in a while as you’re heading down the highway at the double-nickel there’s a lizard on your windshield, and that is Very Distracting.

...Don’t worry if they get blown off. Like squirrels, they hit terminal velocity so fast that the fall won’t hurt them. So long as they don’t get squashed, it’s a perfectly viable way for them to hitch a ride to new territory. Still. Very. Distracting.

On the other hand I did get to shoo a fair-sized green anole off someone’s plants the other day so it didn’t end up inside their car, so hopefully he’s having a good day now instead of screams, shouts, and a car crash. The look on said person’s face as I just let the anole run over me to safer, non-being-bought plants... heh!

(And yes, he. Females have a stripe, he didn’t. So it was a guy being a guy. ;) )

[trainsinanime]

Over the past two weekends I watched the two big movies that society collectively forgot in the wake of Barbenheimer: Indiana Jones and Mission Impossible. And let me tell you:

Yeah society was right. You don’t need to watch either.

What I find interesting is how similar both of them are. I don’t just mean the superficial stuff, like similar multi-party car chases, the addition of an English thief who has way more charisma than the aging lead, or a train sequence where the exact same Scottish Museum railroad pretends to be the Austrian alps.

(Although talking about that: I like Haley Atwell's versioning the English thief more than Phoebe Waller-Bridge's. That may partly be leftover affection from Agent Carter, but she really is that great. Mission Impossible also has a lot of Alfa Romeos in its car chase through Italy involving a Fiat 500, which means it wins by default. Even though the heroes repeatedly eschew a perfectly good Alfa Romeo 159 there in favor of some boring BMW in an obvious bit of sponsoring. The trains are mostly similar; the paint scheme in MI is slightly better but the Pennsylvanian signals are weird. I could talk more about the train there but the important thing is that I got tired of watching train cars fall down a bridge after the third one.)

But the main thing that unites them is how tired they seem. They try desperately to woo us with ridiculous implausible MacGuffins, exorbitant stunts and returning old actors. But neither of them actually has much of a story to tell. They try to make things personal for their main heroes, but ultimately it’s just the same procedure as last year or last decade. Neither movie has anything to say, they only hope to woo you with their brand names. To be fair, that did work on me, but that doesn’t mean it was a good idea on my part.

There is arguably a wider discussion to be had here; I feel very similar things about John Wick 4, a movie where several characters repeatedly say, „this movie is pointless“, or the mess that was James Bond „No Time To Die“. Make no mistake, John Wick 4 is by far the best of them, but still.

Anyway, the family members I wanted to watch Barbie with have night shift this weekend, so I can’t see it yet, but I have no doubt that it’s more interesting. If you want you can wait for Indy and Mission to come out in streaming, but I can’t even really recommend that.

[charbend]

System Overflow Chapter 2

Frank sat in his chair, still spinning from his rough landing. He stared helplessly at the screen in front of him, which moved to keep itself a fixed distance in front of his face. He stood up sharply, his chair sliding back into the wall of his cubicle.

The cubicles next to him were empty. He could still feel the warmth from Jason’s hand.

His breathing started becoming panicked. “They’re gone. Okay. Some weird flash of light took my friends. Were we friends? Jason would probably think so, but I don’t know about Sanjay.”

He chuckled nervously. Probably not the thing to be worrying about right now.

Looking past his cubicle group, he tried to spot anyone else who might still be in the office. There weren’t many people on this floor, so a visual inspection was quick. He was alone.

“Is there anybody else here?” he called out.

All he heard back was the air conditioning kicking in.

Okay. Deep breaths. Maybe everyone who’s left will be at the emergency meeting site. Right? He glanced around. This feels like it could be considered an emergency.

He stepped out of his cubicle. The screen followed him, and he eyed it warily. “You told everyone that the teleportation thing was going to happen, right? Any chance you could tell me something helpful, instead? Something that will make me feel a little less like the sky is falling?”

The screen didn’t respond. It maintained the same message:

Unable to finish teleportation operation. Emergency procedures engaged.

Please wait while procedures are confirmed…

Error! Planet [Earth] does not fit any emergency procedure conditions!

Engaging Auto-Sweep to clean loose ends.

“Hmm. No. Well, I guess I should get to my own ‘emergency procedures’ then.”

He tried side-stepping the ominous message, but it remained resolutely in the center of his vision. Frustrated, he swiped his hand at it, and it slid to his peripheral vision, compressing into a neat little notice with an exclamation mark.

“Oh, great. I have a personal heads-up display now. Just what I always wanted…” With his vision now clear and feeling like he had a bit more control over the situation, he set off. 

Okay, first step in meeting at the evacuation site: find a map to the evacuation site.

He heard a crashing boom from outside.

I’m sure that’s fine.

<O/%%%%%/O/%%%%%/O>

It was not fine. He stood on the second floor landing of the stairs, where he had found emergency exit procedures. He’d had a moment to look at them before his attention was drawn out the window beside the map.

Frank worked in an office that its architect might sell as a ‘timeless look for industries of all kinds’, but could charitably be called a brutalist enclosure for humanity. ‘Office’ and ‘Park’ were not words that should be joined together.

This office was considered accessible, which meant that it sat right off the freeway. From the window that Frank stood at, he had a good view of the road.

He was glad he hadn’t gone out for lunch yet.

The entire roadway was a wreckage of steel and wheels, the occupants having either crashed when magic screens showed up in their faces while driving, or disappeared entirely, leaving vehicles to drift aimlessly.

This was the first time he’d seen people since his coworkers had been teleported.

Unfortunately, this was also the first time he’d seen dead people. He turned away, queasy.

This isn’t good.

With a little prompting, he pulled back up the notice.

Error! Teleportation capacity exceeded.

8,126,934,201 / 7,000,000,000

“This is happening everywhere.” He glanced back out the window before looking away. Guess it’s not gonna be climate change that gets us.

He dismissed the notification again, letting it collapse to the side of his vision. He stood back up, and continued down the stairs. The assembly point was downstairs. Hopefully someone would be there.

<O/%%%%%/O/%%%%%/O>

Even after waiting for a while, no one else showed up. He was alone at the office.

Frank sighed. “I never thought I’d find myself wishing remote work was abolished.”

He looked around the little courtyard. If it weren’t for the unwelcome notice in the corner of his vision, it would be a lovely day. The sun was out, giving a nice, gentle warmth as he sat on a bench in the middle of the nice, manicured lawn. There wasn’t even a single plane in the sky to break the calm of the day.

Suddenly, a new screen popped into view.

Auto-Sweep process engaging.

Errors to resolve:

[Users] on world

Unusual energy signatures on world

Unknown Skills detected

His stomach sank. “What now?”

Resolving: Unknown Skills detected

Categorizing Skills...

Integrating Skills...

Unknown Skills no longer detected

Resolving: Unusual energy signatures on world

Analyzing energy signatures…

Integrating energy signatures…

New Skills created!

Resolving: [Users] on world

Error! [Users] on world that has been evacuated.

Recategorizing [Users]...

Another pop-up appeared in Frank’s view. This one appeared to be a status sheet, though it was filled with all manner of data that he couldn’t parse at a glance. What did draw his attention, however, were a few lines at the top:

Frank Vila

Human [User]

As he looked, it changed to:

Frank Vila

Human [Native]

Then it disappeared.

Resolving: [Users] on world

Error! [Users] on world that has been evacuated.

Recategorizing [Users]...

[Users] recategorized!

[Users] no longer on world.

All errors resolved!

Beginning terraforming…

The blue screen stopped updating, and a green screen appeared. Frank ignored it, compressing it to the side of his view immediately. He laid down and looked at the sky. “I was not ready for today.”

The clouds scudded by as he lay there, letting himself have a moment to just be, without worry.

Distantly, another explosion sounded.

“Yeah, okay, so much for that. Let’s take a look at the information I have, shall we?”

He flipped open the blue screen, the log of messages he’d received still present.

“Whatever this is, it looks like it was trying to teleport everyone on Earth. Obviously, it failed. That means there are definitely still others out there. At least…” He squinted at the numbers. “One billion and some change. That feels like a lot, at least.”

He scrolled up further. “I guess the 7 billion lucky winners are off in the ‘tutorial phase’, whatever that means. Jason and Sanjay are probably there, and…” he was struck by a thought. “My family! They’re caught up in this too.”

He reached for the phone in his pocket, before he remembered that it was still at his desk. I need to check in on them. Right now I have no leads on what is happening to them, or where they are. I’ll need to get my phone, but I’m concerned about this latest message. All the [Users] on the planet, which I assume is everyone, are now considered [Natives]. He tilted his head. “Hmm, feels a bit like a downgrade, but I don’t know where everything fits in. It said it’s some System, right? So, a [User] feels pretty straightforward, but [Native]? I have no idea.”

He glanced at the green notification at the side. Maybe this will give me some clues. He pulled the green notification over, letting the blue screen disappear.

Type changed to [Native]!

[Native] : generally reserved for unintelligent life, [Native] provides System access. This access can expand and change as [Native] is affected by terraforming. For more information, see [Lifeform] type.

The screen vanished shortly after he finished reading it.

“Okay. So, definitely a downgrade,” he said shakily. “Subject to terraforming can’t be good, can it?”

He stood up on wobbly legs, and gave one last look around. No one had shown up yet. It was time to move on. He started heading back to the office. “If I can get in contact with my family, great. If not, maybe I can reach out to someone else. Sanjay seemed to have an idea of what was going on; maybe someone else does as well.”

His stomach growled. Jason had some food stored away, too. Anxiety straddling his shoulders like a child he’d never had, he made his way back to the office, eyes peeled for signs of this ‘terraforming’.

It didn’t take long to find him, as a glowing blue squirrel jumped him on his way in the building.

***

You can find this on Royal Road! (https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/83902)