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multifandomhoodies · 4 years

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Finnpoe Rec List!

There’s some really fantastic Finnpoe fics out there and I’ve been setting aside fics from my bookmarks for this for a while! These are just some of my faves, so enjoy!!

Canon/Canon Adjacent (not AUs outside general Star Wars universe)

“how to become the spark” by sassy_ninja (G - 49.7k

Poe Dameron, commander of the Resistance fleet, best pilot in the galaxy, hotshot trigger-happy flyboy, he's all of these things plus a little bit more. This is the story Poe Dameron, shy farmboy, doting son, idiot gay, soldier who tries his best not to be broken by the war roaring around him and most of all just a human in a galaxy which doesn't care about things like love, friendship and fear. This is how he breaks and how he begins to heal again and how he starts to learn what it means to be alive. Or Poe Dameron's life from his childhood to the end of the war.

“bathed in blue light” by delgay (M - 17.4k)

When Finn turns to his right, Poe stands beside him, looking up at Finn and giving him what might be a smirk if he weren’t too busy smiling. It’s that same smile that’s made home on his face ever since Finn said, “I’d like to see Yavin IV. If I’d be welcome.” Poe had blinked fast, but the smile came slow. “Buddy,” he’d replied, “I’m offended that you even had to ask.”

A year after the Battle of Exegol, Finn and Poe visit Yavin IV. While there, Finn struggles with the Force and his complicated relationship with Poe.

“we slept with our backs against the weather” by bogpersons (T - 8.4k)

Poe’s breaths come in stops and starts, and wheezes on the inhale and exhale. He sounds like a dying man. Finn lifts Poe’s hand to his lips, presses it there, squeezes his eye shut. Something harsh and painful swells in his chest, finds a place under his heart and pushes and pushes and pushes until Finn can barely breathe with it. You are a Human Person. Finn and Poe crash on a jungle planet. Finn struggles with himself.

“We Stan A Healthy Family Dynamic (The Kes Verse)” by AphroditesTummyRolls SERIES (Not rated, 161.7k)

Get in losers, we're giving the Star Wars Sequel cast the story they deserved-- Particularly Poe and Finn.

[Set after the events of TFA, rewrites of TLJ and neat little bits in-between. Poe deals with the aftermath Kylo Ren’s interrogation, dealing with regret and trauma, with the help of his friends and dad through a rewrite of TLJ.]

“your love will be safe with me” by incalyscent (T - 8.6k)

when finn stripped away the violence from himself, what did he have left? it was love; love; love.

“i’m yours (and suddenly you’re mine) by spacepilotprince (E - 4.3k)

Finn snorts against Poe's stomach, and it forces a ticklish laugh out of him. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren't you?” Finn asks as he looks up at Poe, and finds that grin he heard in his voice.

“Not the only thing that's thick,” Poe says with a smirk, glancing down between them towards Finn's cock.

“Oh, shut up,” Finn laughs, surging up to kiss him, muffling Poe's laughter. Poe runs his hands over Finn's shoulders and tips his head aside, sending Finn's mouth down his jaw and neck.

“Contact” by earthmylikeness (M - 9.9k)

Because what could Finn do but live through it? Live in the remains of his own shipwrecked mind, his badly-crossed wires. Imagine Poe’s perpetually bitten mouth on him - his wide, calloused hands on his bare chest, pulling him down and down whenever he so much as closes his eyes.

Finn has a delayed reaction to surviving the crash.

“Best Laid Efforts” by cosmicocean (T - 3.7k) @cosmicoceanfic

In which Jessika and Temmin do their best, aren't even subtle about it, and Poe and Finn are still morons.

“Ad Pacem” by SteveTrevorsStarship (T - 1.5k)

Finn knows war and rebellion so far. He doesn’t know peace. (Yet.)

“First Comes the Night” by coffeeinallcaps (E - 20.1k)

He doesn’t get nightmares. He doesn’t dream about the mask, the cries of the villagers, waking up in the desert with a blinding headache and his mouth filled with blood and the man who’d saved him gone, most likely dead. Instead, he just can’t sleep.

“have you heard” by peradi (Not rated, 42.1k)

"I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper."

Finn sparks a revolution.

“Doubt” by Cadoan (T - 1.4k)

After the battle of Crait, something has changed in Poe. Poe can't sleep, and Finn goes to find him.

“Neither Here Nor There” by d8rkmessengr (T - 7.8k)

Sometimes, it felt like he wasn't really here. Sometimes, it felt like it wasn't really over. And the one person who tethered him left to finally tell Rey something. Post The Rise of Skywalker.

“How to Be a Finn” by Ayashiki (G - 111k)

In a hindsight, all of it - the stolen childhood, the crash on Jakku, Han Solo's death, even the lightsaber to the back - was easier than living in this world of invisible social clues and inside jokes, the whirlwind of this ragtag family that defied any logic, the caring, the compassion, the love. And all the while people tell him: Finn, you are so brave! Finn, you are so strong! Finn, you are so kind! Finn, thank you for saving my life! And FN-2187 looks to the stars and desperately tries to find this "Finn" everyone seems to know in himself.

“On the Other Side” by StarMaple (T - 27.2k)

Finn discovers the differences first hand between the First Order and the Resistance and establishes a space for himself on D'Qar.

“we are all stardust” by synergenic (Losseflame) (Not rated, 15.3k)

Finn wakes up. He wakes up slow, the rising tide of consciousness making him aware, firstly, of how stale his mouth tastes. Then it's the general stiffness of his body, the foreign feeling of a pillow beneath his head, the softness of the clothes he's wearing. Finn doesn't think he's ever worn clothes so soft.

“No Sleep till Brooklyn” by TheCarrot (T first chapter, second chapter E, - 10.4k)

Poe is exhausted. And not just because he hasn’t slept for more than three hours at a time in Force knows how long. Moreover it’s the 39 flights he’s run in the last 22 days and the fact Pava had gotten deathlike sick eight days ago and then they had fallen behind on a few supply runs and an emergency evacuations of some of their pathfinders and then there had been a last minute scramble to one of their allies in the mid rim with far too many TIEs to be comfortable and then- well, Poe just wants to fall over onto the floor and stay there.

AUs

“Time of the Underdog” by beeeawolf, SERIES. (G & T, 56k)

Modern times AU, Poe is a former Navy pilot who was discharged after a crash and being a POW. Finn is a university student who manages to catch Poe’s run away dog, BB-8, who’s literally everything to him.

“We Didn’t Start the Fire” by MayGlenn and cognomen (E - 10.7k)

There’s a calm that claims them all when they’re working and it’s going the way it’s supposed to; the low-level hum of concentration and focus and adrenaline that keeps them on edge without panic. The crew deploys from Idaho, a home base that they see perhaps 3 weeks out of the entire 26 week fire season, interspersed with time in camps and housing all over the country. This week, it’s California—sunny, liberal, beach lined, and on fire.

Finn's a Hotshot firefighter; Poe's the team Helitack operator. They're headed to California to fight a fire in San Jacinto; dangerous country.

“It’s Not Goodbye” by mssrj_335 (T - 25.9k)

Finn is an ex-soldier on a solo motorcycle trip across America. Poe is the mechanic in a small desert town. Poe wants to keep his secrets and Finn is running from something--or toward it--and the part for his bike is going to take at least a week to come in. What starts as a quick stop and awkward flirt devolves into a conspiratorial intrigue of a very personal nature. Lights in the desert, headaches and vague memories all point Finn to something that has Poe tied in knots. He just has no idea how far that something will take him.

“A Possibility (A Promise)” by sapphistication (T - 5.9k)

Poe, Prince of Yavin, is briefly reunited with the Resistance Fighters lead by General Leia Organa. After three years apart, he quickly finds that his affections for Finn are of a different nature than he remembers. Despite the war they find themselves in, they share a few moments of peace by the fire, filled with soft words and meaningful smiles. Time works against them, but Poe seeks a possibility and makes a promise.

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theblueskyphoenix · 5 years

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Grid Ghost Chapter 2: Down and Out

Obake was doing his best to keep himself from falling over. He only had another block or so to go before he reached his destination. He could taste copper in his mouth.

Never a good sign.

His steps were staggering, his vision flickering but he kept pushing till he was finally through a set of doors. Soon as he passed through, he let himself fall to the floor, his eyes sliding shut.

Before he blacked out entirely, he could hear people coming towards him. Their voices had a slight panic to them yet they were mostly calm.

The last thing he could hear clearly was someone shouting:

“Get him on a stretcher and have an OR on standby!”

I’ll leave the rest to you, now.

Please, don’t kill me.

oooooo

Dr. Shaylin Sky was used to crazy.

When you sign up to be a doctor, it was a given that anything could possibly go wrong and anything could possibly happen during a shift at a hospital and you just had to learn to roll with it and not question things.

Though sometimes she wished nights could be quieter. Especially when she was about to head home.

It had been a long day of appointments and assisting surgeons in surgery and trying to get the hospital back in proper working order after everything went to heck with concerns of the city being destroyed by a star that seemed to come out of nowhere.

And now… she had an unconscious man she was rushing to an OR after exams had revealed he was suffering massive amounts of internal bleeding in the abdominal region.

Along with something else that was definitely not normal but I don’t got time for that. Treat and stabilize now, ask questions later.

As soon as the man was in the OR she quickly scrubbed in before joining in on the procedure.

“Shouldn’t you be heading home?” The surgeon asked as he started to make incisions into the affected areas. “And is a blood transfusion on the way?”

“I would be, Leon, but I had a man pass out on the floor in front of me and you know I don’t like dropping a patient and running, even if I’m supposed to be gone by now and yes, I got the boys looking through our O- stash as we speak.

"Devoted as ever and good, because he’s losing a lot and fast.” Leon narrowed his eyes. “What the heck did he do to himself? Throw himself off a building?”

“Doubt it, considering the only broken bones I saw in the scans were a couple of ribs. If he had been thrown off a building there would be a lot more broken. Though with the bruises he’s got on him he certainly had something rough happen be it a landing or a fight. Just not sure what.”

“Questions we can ask him once he’s stable and awake. Clamps, please.”

Shaylin handed Leon on the tool in question.

“Oh, trust me, I got a LOT of questions for this guy once he’s conscious and lucid.”

“That’s an omen.” Leon looked to Shaylin with some concern. “See something of interest in your exam?”

“Nothing harmful… I think but it was… definitely of interest.”

“Wanna enlighten me?”

“Drain blood and fix injuries first, then I’ll tell you.”

“Very well.” Leon eyed the man’s face before getting back to work. “Though, gotta say, it’s a miracle he made it here on his own. You said he stumbled on in?”

“Yeah. Again, not sure what the story is but I’m sure we’ll find out soon.”

And I get the feeling it’s going to be a weird one.

oooooo

For Obake, it had only been a few minutes between when he had blacked out to when he was waking up again. He knew it had certainly been longer than a few minutes he just wasn’t sure how much longer.

As he opened his eyes, he could hear the faint sounds of a heart monitor beeping and the dripping of an IV bag.

Those are sounds that bring back memories…

“Just a little longer, Bob. You’re almost done.”

“Just a few more drops then we can go home and watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles together like you promised, Daddy! You can do it!”

For a moment, he was back in that treatment bed again, his daughter holding his hand while his wife monitored his vitals. He could see a young Trina smiling at him, hopefulness in her light blue eyes as she helped keep him comfortable.

It all quickly faded as a voice broke the illusion, revealing he was in an ICU room with a woman he didn’t recognize.

The woman appeared to be of latina descent with tan skin and light brown hair that was pulled into a loose ponytail. She had a look of concern in her deep blue eyes. Judging from the lab coat and ID tag she had hanging around her neck, she was most likely a doctor.

He squinted his eyes to read the name on the ID tag.

“Dr. Shaylin Sky”

“With me?” she asked.

“More or less.” He said, practically whispered. He cringed, bringing a hand to his abdomen. “What happened…?”

“You collapsed in our ER bay. You were rushed in for emergency surgery after some quick tests. You had a couple of broken ribs and massive internal bleeding in the abdominal region due to damage done to various organs. All of it was treated and you’re stable now and are on strict bed rest till further notice.”

“I see… perfect.” Obake sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Anything else I need to know about in regards to injuries?”

“No… More so I need to know about something.”

Obake looked to Shaylin, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

Shaylin crossed her arms.

“You got an interesting looking implant on the left side of your skull… and a pretty nicely sized tumor to boot. I doubt those are things you don’t know about. Care to explain?”

Obake glanced to the side.

“… I have to ask a question before I can answer anything in regards to those two things. Are you associated with Sycorax or Liv Amara?”

Shaylin gave a disgusted look.

“The day I associate with that woman or her company is the day I resign from being a doctor. No offense to her and her work but I don’t like her attitude. She’s just…. condescending and sometimes has no regards for morality… It's… a long story. Either way, no, I am not associated with her, nor is this particular hospital. They’re not rich enough for her. Who wants to know?”

Obake let out another sigh.

“Bob Aken wants to know, that’s who.”

Shaylin’s eyes widened at this, though kept her composure.

“Go on.”

Obake closed his eyes.

“I’ve had this tumor in my head since I was 15 years old that manifested due to a rather unfortunate accident with an experiment. It was managed with chemo treatments for the longest time till around last year when someone came in, claiming they could help me. This someone being Liv Amara.” Obake opened his eyes, his implant letting off a glow for a second. “This implant was supposed to cure me… when it all it did was make things worse.” His eyes narrowed. “She took everything from me that day I entered her operating room doors… all with a simple series of shocks.”

“Your family is none of your concern anymore, Obake. Your concern is making your mark on San Fransokyo. To be remembered as a legend.”

Obake was panting, grabbing at the table as electricity pulsed through his mind.

“Ngh! No! Kim… Trina… I… Gck! I need to…”

“Shhhh…” Liv brought a hand to his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb. “They’re not here anymore… It’s just you, Obake. You’re alone. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Think of all you can do. No limits whatsoever. You can be the genius you longed to be. You can make great accomplishments. You can make Grace regret ever abandoning you in your time of need. You can make her wish she had never given up on you.”

“I… I….” Obake’s pupils dilated. “I could be… remembered by all…”

“That’s right.” Liv smiled. “You just have to do exactly as I tell you. There’s no Bob Aken anymore. There is only Obake. A ghost. But soon to be remembered and revered by all.”

“Remembered… and revered by all.”

Obake grabbed at the blankets of his bed, lowering his head.

“I haven’t been in my right mind for awhile now… and I want it to stop. And I only know one person I could trust with my head.” Obake looked at Shaylin. “Do you know Dr. Kim Aken?”

Shaylin nodded.

“I do. She’s a dear friend of mine… who has been dearly missing her husband who disappeared around last year.” Shaylin’s look turned gentle. “And it seems he’s finally been found.”

Obake nodded.

“Can you get me to her? And do you have my things? There’s some important equipment in that backpack I came in with along with the USB I had around my neck.”

“Yes and yes. I have your possessions in my office for safekeeping and I can contact Kim’s hospital right away and have you transferred.”

“Thank you… Where is she at, by the way?”

“Saga Regional Hospital.”

Home…

“Good… I want to get away from this city for a bit.” Obake leaned back into his pillow. “Too much crime and too much noise.”

Shaylin chuckled.

“Kim said the same thing.” She gave a small smile. “You know, she never stopped looking for you. Even came here for a bit with her daughter in hopes they’d find you. They’re going to be so happy when they see you.”

“Maybe… though I’m expecting irritation considering my current state.”

And telling them what I’ve been doing for the past year. That’s going to be fun.

“Possibly. Kim’s more level headed than I am. If you were my husband you would’ve gotten a slight pow pow.”

“And a sandal?”

“That’s la chancla to you, mister.”

“Nuance.”

Shaylin rolled her eyes, getting up from her chair.

“I’ll go make some calls then. Can I get you anything?”

Obake gave a small smirk.

“I have a blueberry scone in a tupperware in that backpack of mine. I’d like to eat it now, please.”

Shaylin smirked, shaking her head.

“You’re not gonna be able to enjoy it as you are so, patience on that one.”

“Oh, come now, I know how to eat slow.”

“Eat it when you don’t have a tumor the size of a ping pong ball suppressing your right from wrong junction.”

Shaylin left without another word.

Obake gave a flat look, plopping his head into his pillow.

It’s called the temporo-parietal junction, plebeian.

… And it’s not the size of a ping pong ball!

#big hero 6 #big hero six #bh6 #big hero 6 the series #big hero six the series #bh6 the series #big hero 6 obake #big hero six obake #bh6 obake #big hero 6 oc #big hero six oc #bh6 oc #shaylin sky #grid ghost #fanfic #fanfiction

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thelastchair · 5 years

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Alps 2019

(Written by Arthur Scopic - March 29, 2019)

Landing Zurich **** On landing at Amsterdams Schipol, I knew something wasn't right, not just the usual transatlantic blear, but odd chills and fever. Texting my pal Subtle Plague, I warned him that I may have a cold or flu and may be infectious. He dismissed any concerns, citing their own little germ trawler as being of greater potential for flus or colds and nobly insisted we meet.

So, after nearly missing the connection to ZRH due to customs clogging at Schipol, I boarded the flight to Zurich, dozed some more in that jetlag timewarp and embarked on the train for Konstanz from ZRH.

Konstanz, Subtle Plague **** Subtle Plague met me at the train station and ferried me to his house to meet his family and set me up for a nap before we headed out to the Gotthard zones. I considered just taking a hotel and convalescing but hope sprang eternal in my skiersoul, so next morning we headed out on the Swiss highways to the Gotthard tunnel and Airolo.

Konstanz

It was over twenty years ago that I landed in Geneva and contracted a cold and rather than taking it easy, jumped into skiing around La Grave, Serre Chevalier, Puy St. Vincent and the Milky Way. But by the 6th day or so, while skiing at Val Thorens, I knew something was seriously wrong. I shortly spiraled into fill blown pneumonia, eventually requiring IV antibiotics on returning to the US.

Airolo ****

So this time, I was going to be smarter and on arriving at Airolo, despite the pow and sunshine, I deferred on the skiing and snoozed in Subtle Plagues RV. I took solace in the fact that one of the more widely read ski weather forecasters had explicitly directed his followers to Airolo, resulting in crowding and pow frenzy that chewed up the snow at what is normally a low key area. Such is the internet.

At days end, we drove up a nearby valley and camped out for what ended up being one of the most fevered nights I'd ever had. My throat burned on every swallow and my head throbbed with a thundersome sinus headache resulting in little sleep. So once again, skiing that day was not for me. Subtle Plague was a prince about it all, understanding and left me to me convalescing.

Konstanz Again ****

At days end after Subtle and buddies had enjoyed a powdery tour, we rolled back to Konstanz in the RV. Konstanz is a beautiful town, with it's older buildings and neighborhoods having escaped some of the ravages of WWII by virtue of being on the Swiss border and thereby not targetted by bombing raids. I knew that Subtle and family had a busy Monday morning ahead of them so after sleeping Saturday night and being feasted and feted by their hospitality, I trundeled off in a train headed to St. Anton Sunday afternoon.

St. Anton, Haus Elisabeth, Arlberg Guides, Verwall, Hinterrendl **** I had initially planned to roll out East to the Gasteinertal and ski that zone, but the flu caused to me to reevaluate that plan. I wrote the wonderful folks at Hotel Echo Bad Gastein and cancelled my room there and dredged around for another option in St. Anton when I found Das-Elisabeth which fit my requirements of being reasonably close to the train station. So I booked a room there. It proved to be an excellent choice with a superb breakfast and quiet spot to finish this flu. I again chose not to ski the first day, but with a suggestion from the host, Berthe, found a doctor to check me out and write a script for the antibiotics I knew I'd need after this flu. I walked around the village in a howler snowstorm, got a good sleep and readied myself for the first turns of the trip.

St. Anton is HUGE and I not knowing it at all, I opted to try to find some guided options. The best deal I found was with the Arlberg-Guides who offered a guided group option for 97Euros. This turned out not only a great option, but fortuitous as well by virtue of meeting Sebastyn.

The lift system is staggering with a base terminal at the Galzigbahn looking like a spaceship.

The day broke blue and crowds were massive with enormous lines at the Galzigbahn. Our guide circumnavigated that queue, opting for the Gampenbahn chair for a checkout run before taking us down into Schongraben for some quality pow.

Next up, we rode up into the Galzig zone, hoping to get up into the Schindlerspitz. But due to avalanche levels being up to 4, both the Schindlergrabahn and the Valuga were closed. On traversing out towards the Arlberg Pass, we could see a gargantuan liftline at the Arlenmaderbahn, so we took a high traverse to access the Albonabahn II.

View from Albonabahn II

After a few laps down that we skied the North face down into Stuben and used the old Albonabahn chair to get back to the Albonabahn II and started down into a beautiful valley ending the day in Verwall with beer and local game charcuterie. ****************************************************************************************************

I found a sign for a museum that turned out to be a beautiful old chalet that was a combination ski museum and restaurant, so I went in for a light dinner.

Karl Schranz's Kneissl White Stars

Next day, another storm had moved in, so I elected to repeat with Arlberg Guides and again skied with Sebastyn, a sharp wit and keen skier who had grown up skiing in the Arlberg. We had a different guide who, after a warm up on the Gampenbahn, took us over to the North facing Rendelbahn zone. After riding several lifts we dropped over into Hinterrendl, a spectacular bowl of excellent powder with views obscured by storm.

Old door in St. Anton

The day after, it was still storming but I wanted to have a little more free reign, so I elected to skip the Arlberg Guides. I had also moved hotels to the Hotel Kirchplatz which was a bit East of the town center and closer to the Nassereinbahn where I started the day. Lo and behold, there was Sebastyn who kindly offered to ski with me that day. After a couple of runs, we hooked up with his friend Victoria and spent a few laps skiing the powder in what I'll call the Galzig Gullies near the Osthangbahn chair. It was light, thigh deep snow in among the trees with decent visibility. After a bit, Vicki suggested that we meet up with her boyfriend Yannick who was to get off guide duty at noon, so we skied back down to the Nasserein base. Yannick got off and suggested another lap down the powder in Schongraben. While chatted on the lifts as we sampled snow over in the Galzig zone, we found that Victoria's mom is Berthe who manages Haus Elisabeth. The Freakwhency strikes again! We ended the day with beer and wienerschitzer at the Krazy Kangaroo around 3:00. A big thanks to Seb, Vicki and Yannick!

View from Hotel Kirchplatz

Old St. Anton chalet

The next day, Friday, was my last day in the Arlberg and it was forecast to dump with rising freezing levels. Sebastyn had to head back to school, so I decided just to roll solo around the Galzig Gullies and whatever else was visible. This proved to be not much. The day started with spooky snow fractures in the trees around the gullies, but failed to actually slide on the ski cuts I put in. So I raged solo mad laps mostly on the Galzigbahn until about 1:00 when it started to rain at the bottom. By 2:00 I was soaked, so I headed back to the Hotel Kirchplatz to wash and dry stuff. It's a great hotel with a sauna, wellness spa and free washer and dryer which I sorely needed. By 3:30 I was at the bahnhof and by 4:00, rolling to Klosters.

I can see why the Arlberg is so popular: it's massive and gets a lot of snow. At the same time, it's crowded and lots of the businesses in town are jaded by tourists. I was extremely lucky to hook up with Sebastyn, Victoria and Yannick who were incredibly warm and abundant and convinced me that my aversion to St. Anton as an instance of a megaresort, was ill founded. I'll be back. ****************************************************************************************************

Klosters, Hotel Wynegg, bw_wp_hedonism, Gargellan, St. Antonien **** After a 3.5 hour jaunt on Austrian and Swiss trains, I stepped onto the platform in Klosters Platz, right next to the soaring Gotschnabahn tram. I had been in touch with bw_wp_hedonism who had generously offered to meet up. I had also dug around for a reasonably priced room, a somewhat rare beast in Klosters and had stumbled across Wynegg, a recently revamped old hotel which was establishing itself as a haute gourmando locus. So I booked a room there, a 10 minute walk from the bahnhof. bw_wp_hedonism pinged me via whatsapp and turned up in the hotel bar. We made plans for the next day to poke around Parsenn, one of 5 enormous lift systems in the Davos/Klosters complex.

I was a little late and with blue sky and fresh pow, the lines at the Gotschnabahn were significant. bw_wp_hedonism had waited and we ran into his buddy Tom and were off. We raged all over the Parsenn, up to the summit via the Furka lifts and then the Gipfelbahn where we found sweet deep untracked snow on a variety of North facing exposures.

View from Schiferbahn gondola

The area is laced with dozens of groomers that keep lots of tourists busy and provided access to an innumerable wad of excellent off piste options. After a couple of laps on the Schiferbahn in excellent pow, we met with a bunch of bw_wp_hedonism at the midmountain near the base of the Furka lift for lunch. After a lengthy lunch we made a few more sidecountry laps by taking bootpacks and traverses off the Totalp zone, eventually making apres ski at Berghaus Schifer.

View from midmountain Parsenn, untapped offpiste above

I rolled back to the Wynegg for a shower and nap before taking a table in the restaurant at 8:30.

The food was superb, starting with an excellent salad, I ordered a soup that was celestial: a foamed saffron broth and perfectly poached prawns. The wine list was fantastic with a crisp chardonnay and an excellent local, rich pinot noir by the glass. I finished with the specialty pizokel noodle and lamb in a deliciously deft creamed curry sauce. I zonked out by 22:00.

bw_wp_hedonism had referred to doing a tour I had eyeballed for years, one that went over a little pass above the Madrisa area over into the Voralberg and the Gargellen ski area, then back over to Switzerland and the tiny medieval town of St. Antonien.

**************************************************************************************************** On waking, we texted back and forth making plans to meet at the top of the Madrisabahn and head out. And so we did. It was amazing with an easy, gently ascending skin S/SE from the top of the Schaffugli lift to the Schlappiner Joch and the border with Austria.

Looking south from Madrisa

On the skintrack to Schlappiner Joch. Schlappiner where?

At Schlappiner Joch

The ski down from there was on beautiful sparsely tracked North facing steep slopes with a long and easy run out down to Gargellen where we had to stop in at the base of the gondola to get single ride passes back up to the top of the Kristelbahn and a slightly more significant climb up to the Sankt Antonier Joch.

From there. it was a West/Northwest facing series of virgin pow lines draining down into a creek gully which fed us out onto a road requiring the canonical walk in ski boots down into the atmospheric town of St. Antonien clustered around a spike steepled church dated 1492. There we enjoyed beer and charcuterie until the bus came and we wound around curves connecting ancient villages down to the train station at Kublis.

St. Antonien

At the Kublis bahnhof, I thanked bw_wp_hedonism and pal Tom for their gracious abundance, I had had an amazing time around Davos, again, more data that eroded my reluctance to ski at the more reknown areas.

I rallied back to Klosters and the Hotel Wynegg, extending my sincere thanks to Cedric and all the folks who run an incredibly warm and tasteful hotel to which I hope to return. Grabbing my clothes and gear, I hopped the train for Rueras, Switzerland to meet up with the motley band of maggots at MtLodge

****************************************************************************************************

Rueras, MtLodge **** The train actually ended in Disentis with the last leg of the trip to Rueras in the trusty Swiss postbus which kindly dropped me at the very door to the hotel. There I met the owner, Michele, an effusive and warm persona who set me up with a sweet room and delicious food and drink. He had also queued up a number of routes and tours that I had ogled for years. But first, sleep. It was dumping.

Morning brought delicious coffee and the classic Euro breakfast spread while making plans with all the k00ks who had rendezvoused at MtLodge With fairly heavy snow coming down, we decided to ride lifts from Dieni, a 10 minute walk from the hotel, over towards Andermatt and see how far we got. The forecast 5-10 cm turned out to be more like 20-30 cm and deeper in the wind loaded places. At Dieni, we made 1 lap before heading up and over into Val-Val where we kind of got stuck lapping a sweet stash of pow at least 4 times before punching it further West into the Oberalppass zone and ripping lines of powder varying from boot top to waist deep until lunch was called at the hutte there. When Mr. Mike and I tried to share a charcuterie board, the waiter either misunderstood or was taking the tourists for a ride, yelling "YOU ORDER, I MAKE" as we tried to clarify we only wanted 1 order.

Afternoon brought a few more laps on the Schneehuenderstck gondy before we started making our way back towards Dieni where again we spun run after run of virgin pow turns, finally some of us throwing in the towel at 3:00 after milking one more untracked zone. We took the sled run all the way back to Rueras and MtLodge for drinks and a delicious dinner. More of the maggot crew had arrived.

Dieni

Next morning Tuesday, most of the fistful had targeted Andermatt, so we took the early train over and ramped and raged off the Gemsstock tram. Skiing the West couloirs first thing proved to be not such a good idea for some. After a warm up, a few of us went out to ski the Giraffe which only had about 15 tracks in it. We returned to it again later to find only 30 or so tracks. After a few more front side runs, the whole fistful took the Guspis down to Hospental which had wide swaths of uncut snow and the usual stunning scenery, ending with beer and dried meats at the Gotthard Haus before a train ride back to Rueras.

Guspis at 4:00 pm

Skiing into Hospental

Next day, Wednesday, the host with the most, Michele at mt-lodge, had arranged enough transport for us to go over to St. Moritz via the Juler Pass and Bivio. Once at Corvatsch, the highest ski area in St. Moritz, we met Michele's buddy Matteo who took us first down the Northwest couloir to ski acres of stunning pow, then over to Val Roseg past Piz Roseg and the Morteratsch Gletscher and down to lunch at Hotel Restaurant Roseg Gletscher which was awesome. Then an ugly 37 minute long pole and skate out to Pontresina to catch the bus over to Corviglia where we took the 2 stage funicular and a chair ride. Then a little traverse and bootpack to drop into Val Bever with hectares of uncut, Northwest facing powder skiing. The day ended at Gasthaus Spinas with beer and another series of train and bus rides back to pizza in Celerina.

Lunch of cream of asparagus soup with prawn at Hotel Restaurant Roseg Gletscher

Icefall off back of Piz Roseg

Piz Roseg

****************************************************************************************************

Dropping into Val Bever

Thursday, the morning destination was Disentis, a 5 minute train ride to Acla da Fontauna and a short walk up to the tram.It was a gorgeous bluebird day with evidence of the suns heat on some of the south facing slopes. After a warm up, we took a short skin up to one of the entries to Val Strem to the West. With a little downclimb from the col into a couloir, we were set for a few thousand vertical of Northwest facing pow surrounded by rock and ice. We skied out to the train at Sedrun and hopped it, going West pver to Andermatt to meet with another portion of the crew. The afternoon was spent mostly skiing in the main bowl under the upper Gemsstock and finishing with a lap out into the Felsental where we continued to find good soft lightly tracked powder.

Val Strem entrance couloir

Scott smoking up the Val Strem pow

Val Strem from the bottom

Felsental

****************************************************************************************************

Friday, the last day at Rueras, we had planned to do the Oberalpstock, a well known descent of over 2000 meters, and one I had lusted after for a decade. North facing down into the Maderental valley. Michele had arranged for guides, some Italian friends of his and we were off to start at 8:30 on the early Disentis tram. The original plan had been for the group of 17 to split into 2 groups, one to do the Oberalpstock, which has some technical parts, and the other group to take a more mellow tour down into Val Strem. Unfortunately, our guides were not comfortable with splitting the group, so some of us decided to not take the tour and instead ski pistes at Disentis.

The climb involved a fairly easy skin to start with then a bit of a traverse to a via ferrata that climbs a rocky section and leads onto another traverse followed by a short downhill section. I am notoriously slow on the skin track, so by the time we skied the short downhill section and started another longer climb, I was far behind the main group. At one point the skin track split with one variation going to the climbers left and up to the summit of the Oberalpstock itself. The right branch took a mellower ascent to a shoulder where the actual skiing down the North side began. I was convinced the group had headed up the summit and I was lagging, so I headed up intent on catching up with the rest of the group. But in fact, they had taken the mellower right branch and were waiting for me there. Hell bent on summiting, I argued in broken English with the guide, Rosso who relented and accompanied me to the summit where to my surprise there were no other members of the group. So I skied down mashed potato snow from the south facing summit and sidestepped to catch the group.

Oberalpstock traverse before via ferrata

Climbing the via ferrata

Oberalpstock summit selfie

View across first portion of Oberalpstock after via ferrata

View from the Oberalpstock summit

Looking down into Maderental 2400 vertical meters below

Skiing down the Oberalpstock

The Oberalpstock is enormous and despite a lot of tracks, we found sections of uncut, consistent steep pitches rolling North into the Maderental of vertical drop around 2200 meters. One section near the bottom was hard ice and the guides set up ropes to help control that section.

Eventually we skied corn in an avalanche chute down into a cow pasture. It was an all-time route appropriate to end the trip.

Walking along the Maderental

Special thanks to Michele for organizing the trips to St. Moritz, the Oberalpstock and providing warm, abundant hospitality at MtLodge. Also thanks to my ski fiend pals Subtle Plague, bw_wp_hedonism and all the maggot k00ks who showed up to sample skiing in the Swiss Alps.

MountainLodge

#skiing #powder #europe #last chair #backcountry #alps

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erregent · 6 years

Text

( under a readmore cause it’s long.

i guess??? this is the start to a gavcentric redemption fic with some ree.d900 on the side. i have maybe three more chapters planned out but i haven’t finished it yet. )

--------

they’re probably going to put on his tombstone ‘dumb shit.’

nothing else. no date of birth, mother’s name, none of that. just, here lies a dumb fucker.

laying on his back in a wet alleyway, struggling for breath around the blood in his mouth, gavin reed thinks it’s probably for the best.

he was supposed to call for backup but since when the fuck has he ever needed backup? no partner necessary, he may be shit at office work but out here, in the field, was where he got his kicks. a perp wanted to bust out the third story window and try to outrun him on the fire escape? good.

gavin was not far behind, huffing around smokers lungs but spite was enough to keep his legs moving, keep the high teen in his sights as he darts up stairs one more floor to the roof of the apartment building.

“that’s enough, kid,” he remembers saying, training his gun at the perp’s back as he contemplates jumping off, “there’s nowhere to go.”

“i can’t--- can’t go to prison, i can’t---” he was high, confused. just a fucking teenager. for some reason gavin thinks of the boy’s mother. where she was now, and if she knew what her boy was doing. did she even care.

he couldn’t tell you why, but he remembers putting his gun away. offering up both hands empty like some sort of peace offering.

“you can still get out of this alright, don’t be fuckin’ stupid. just turn around, and get over here.”

“they’ll kill me! they’ll kill me...i can’t--- no, nono--”

“who’s they? talk to me, kid, i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

the kid eventually turns around. wet tear tracks on both cheeks, snot dribbling over lips, and hands clutching a beretta.

gavin didn’t have time to say a word before hearing the pow pow of gunfire.

choking, gasping, he knows he’s shot before he even looks down but when he does, the world spins, and he’s falling over the ledge.

shoulder catches the edge of the fire-escape, shattered. body rag-doll, he manages to land on his back just so he could graciously choke on his own blood.

so yea, he’s a dumb shit. he didn’t even call for backup.

you try to do something nice, and it gets you shot twice in the chest.

-----

somehow, he wakes up.

he has no idea when, but he wakes up.

the harsh lighting, the stale sick smell, the soft ‘beepbeepbeep’ lets him know he’s in a hospital. it’s not the first time he’s woken up in one and the detective doubts it will be the last. but this is certainly the first time he can hardly move once consciousness returns to him.

everything hurts. literally everything, even the follicles of his hair feel sore in his head, and he’s hovering somewhere between drugged beyond recognition and not nearly doped enough to withstand the discomfort.

all he can manage is a low groan of pain, flexing fingers to see which ones work and which don’t.

his entire left arm is casted, gavin can barely turn his head enough to see the thing, it goes up to his chest where gauze springs from underneath. it’s wrapped tight, tight around his torso and down to his navel, though gavin can’t see past the sheet thats been brought up to his armpits. he’s sewed up, tucked in, and left here.

“detective,” a voice calls from the doorway. at least he gets his own room.

the soft glowing LED in the nurses temple under blond curls would have made gavin scoff if he weren’t so broken. he groans again. a fuckin’ android. he forgets they’re allowed to do whatever they want now, regardless of model and make.

“please try not to move so much. honestly, i’m surprised you’re awake. you’ve only been out of surgery for three hours, your body is still adjusting to the changes,” she’s rummaging through a virtual clipboard, the skin on her hand peeling back to interface with it directly.

“you took two gun shot wounds to the torso. one made a clear shot, it hit nothing vital. the other punctured a lung and broke one of your ribs. your shoulder and arm were shattered from impact after you fell, and required extensive surgery and reconstruction to repair. do you remember where you were before here, detective?”

gavin groans. his mouth tastes like sandpaper and actual, literal asshole. it’s too dry, he rolls his tongue around but it feels two sizes too big. he manages to croak out “case,” and not sound totally out of it, to his defense.

“yes, we were informed by your department you were chasing a suspect. though i am not authorized to talk to you about legal matters, i just need to confirm your mental faculties are still in order. you fell almost three stories, detective. the only reason your skull was not crushed on impact was the loss of momentum your body sustained hitting the fire escape on your way down.”

he manages a scoff this time. guess he’s lucky for the shattered bones.

“what is your name?”

another noise, he grinds teeth around the ‘g’ sound.

“g...avin. reed.”

“yes, that’s very good. i have more questions for you, and you willneed a debriefing, but you still need rest,” she’s coming to his bedside then, futzing with the fancy IV machine whirring away there. she hits a few buttons, pumps him full of morphine, and suddenly gavin feels really warm and he wants to sleep.

he does.

-----

it’s the first time in twelve years, gavin sleeps longer than two hour increments.

the next few days come in blinks, and trying to keep track of time is utterly useless. there’s a potted plant at his bedside one time he opens his eyes. a succulent, some weird desert lookin thing and he knows it’s chen. he likes this kind, barely have to do shit to keep it alive. he passes out trying to move his arm to touch it.

the next time he’s awake, there’s flowers. a single arrangement, freshly pruned peace lilies harsh white like his whole fuckin’ room with a little blue ‘k’ on an equally white card in the middle. if he could, he’d knock the whole thing off on principle. fuckin prick.

the third time he can actually remember anything, he’s sitting up more. that same blond nurse is back, checking about his vitals and tidying the room. there’s not much to do, even in his haze gavin can tell there has been little traffic here. the detective isn’t shocked by the notion. he’s not known to have friends.

he’s awake for more than fifteen minutes this time, and gavin knows what to expect. a half hour into consciousness, one of his own is buzzing into his room. he’s expecting chen, maybe anderson if the captain wanted to let the old man gloat. he’s not expecting fowler himself to walk through the door.

his gut plummets like a shitty wooden roller coaster at the sight of him. dark blue button up. black slacks. badge at his hip. but no clip board, no pen. he’s not here to talk about the case.

“reed,” fowler begins, hands in his pockets as he walks toward the large window to gavin’s left. it’s hard to turn his head that way, considering his shoulder was in pieces not long ago, but he manages to get the man in his peripheral.

the silence that follows is maddening. gavin wants to claw his god damn skin off.

“fowl-”

“you could have died, reed. you very well should have.”

“i had it under con-”

“if you try to undermine what this is, so help me.” perhaps it’s just the morphine, but gavin swears fowler’s hands are shaking in his pockets.

“listen. you’re a good detective, gavin. you and i both know that. it’s why i wanted you back on the force after the whole android awakening,” fowler has finally turned to face him now though stays by the window. his voice is level, but terse. he feels like he’s being scolded by his father.

“you bitched and moaned about what cases you wanted, you bitched and moaned when i brought in the other rk unit, and you bitched and moaned when i tried to pair you with him. for months. and i’ve listened because you got results. i don’t give a shit if you’re everybody’s best friend, so long as you do the job and you don’t get yourself killed. but you fucked up big time, reed. and i can’t have it happen again.”

“captain-”

“you are not dying under my watch, gavin. you hear me? not because of your inflated ego and some shitty pride!”

gavin swallows at the tone of fowler’s voice, would have flinched back if he could. for once in his miserable fucking life, the detective agrees, and nods.

“yea. yea i hear you.” he hates how weak he sounds. he’ll blame it on the fatigue.

the tenseness fowler carried in his jaw loosens some. shoulders slack. gavin can see the clenched fists in his pockets ease. he’s said the right thing. gavin wasn’t made a detective for nothing.

“good. cause you’re getting a partner when you get out of here, and i’m not hearing another word out of you about it.”

ok, so he’s not fired. that’s awesome. but...fuck. he doesn’t even have the energy to ask who. he likes to think he’d be all teeth and gums about this, being the squeakiest wheel he can be to get the grease, if he weren’t still in recovery.

“get some rest. we’ll interview about the suspect when you’re not drugged off you ass,” his captain makes to leave, but stops by the doorway just to shoot gavin a rarely seen, but always infuriating smirk, “should probably keep you on it, though. you’re a lot nicer when you can’t bark.”

fowler leaves.

gavin, through grit teeth and optimal discomfort, manages to knock the peace lilies off the table.

#( OOC. )#fic stuff #reference / /#no one #has to read this #but here it is anyway #also i know its a small mention #but this is under the hc that #kamski and gav are related #but its...hard to tell #it will come up more later in the story

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the-stories-in-my-head-95 · 7 years

Text

I Promise to Love the Both of you for Forever- Chapter 1

Steve Rogers x Reader X Bucky Barnes

Summary- When three seven year olds declare their love for one another they do the only logical thing they can think of-get married. Eventually the three of you grow up and go two war. The world thinks the three of you died within weeks of each other, but are any of you truly dead?

Message- Here’s Chapter one! Sorry if it sucks!

Warning- reader was kidnapped.

Prologue

Word Count- 838

“We need to get here out of there.” Steve says as he moves to the controls.

“No.” Tony says

“Excuse me?” Steve snarls.

“I get that you three have history that you will be explaining later, but this is a Hydra base. There’s a very good chance that she isn’t who you remember. She could have been whipped and reprogramed.” Tony says and the two other men sigh.

“He’s right Stevie.” Bucky says miserably.

“W-we can’t just leave her in there for forever.” Steve mumbles.

“We won’t, go grab an extra generator from the quinjet and I’ll jerry rig it to the cryo-chamber. Then we will unfreeze her in a controlled setting. While you guys grab the generator I’m going to grab all of the files in this place. Hopefully they have some answers.” Tony sighs.

“Thank you.” Bucky says as Steve and him walk out of the room. They all set to work and eventually they make the cryo-chamber portable. They move the chamber and all of the files that they found onto the quin-jet and they took off.

“Ok, explain.” Tony says as he engages auto-pilot.

“When we were seven, we got married at recess. We’ve all been together since then. She was a nurse during the war, she was declared dead like a week after I crashed. I-I don’t know what happened after that.” Steve says.

“We’ll figure it out.” Tony says as he tries his best to reassure his teammates.

“She’s gonna be fine.” Steve murmurs.

“She has to be.” Bucky adds. The rest of the flight is quiet and Tony doesn’t press the two super solider. When they land they rush the cryo-chamber to the lab and then they leave Tony and Bruce to do their thing. But not before making Tony promise to call them before they wake you up.

“How much do you remember about her?” Steve asks.

“Everything, all of my memories of the three of us together came back a while ago, I just never mentioned it because it hurt too much to even think about.” Bucky murmurs.

“We all ‘died’ within weeks of each other. It would almost be romantic if it wasn’t so sad.” Steve whispers.

“I’m surprised they haven’t made a movie about the three of us.” Bucky jokes. “I mean they have all the letters.”

“No one knows, we were always carful with what we wrote. Remember?” Steve asks.

“Kinda, that part is still fuzzy.” Bucky says as he cocks his head to the side.

“God, this is all my fault. If I had just let things be and stayed stateside…” Steve starts

“I would have died as a POW and who knows what would have happened to Y/N. Don’t forget you saved the world Stevie.” Bucky says and he pulls Steve into a hug.

“Excuse me, boys. Tony has requested your presence.” FRIDAY says.

“Thanks, Fri.” Steve says as the two of them rush to the lab. They walk in and so a quick intake of what is happening. You’re unconscious, lying on a hospital bed, while Bruce inserts an IV into your arm.

“She’s going to be fine.” Tony starts “They injected her with the serum, but they never conditioned her, or whipped her. It looks like they kept her on ice, so if the Winter Soldier ever died they would have a backup or if you ever shook your conditioning, they could use her to keep you in line.”

“So she’s going to be okay?” Steve asks.

“Well as okay as someone whose about to wake up in the future can be.” Tony says.

“When is she going to wake up?” Bucky asks.

“Probably within the next hour.” Bruce says. “We’ll leave the two of you alone. Call for us after you explain it all to her. I need to run a few tests.”

“Thank you, both of you.” Steve says and Bucky nods in agreement.

“Hey, there’s no need to thank us. We’re all family here.” Tony says as Bruce and him leave. Bucky and Steve move to sit on either side of you and they just watch you waiting. After about 40 minutes you jolt awake.

“Hey, Doll you need to take it easy.” You hear Bucky murmur.

“Am I in heaven?” You ask, your voice cracking because of your dry throat. You hear two chuckles and look over to that Steve was there to.

“No.” they offered.

“You two died.” You say in an accusatory mannor.

“Yeah, well it turns out its harder to kill the three of us than anyone thought.” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Steve asks gently.

“I-I remember the field hospital had been over run with Hydra agents. I started to run but they caught me. Then they pricked me with something and everything went black.” You say as you struggle to recall what you remember. “How are you to here? They told me you were both dead. Where are we?”

“The future.” Bucky says.

“What?!” you shout.

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all-things-magnumpi-fanfiction · 4 years

Text

Operation DogWood Part 1 FebWhump Day 2

Higgins opened the front door of the Robins Nest, to check for packages when on the front porch she saw a box. She walked over to it and saw that on the top of the box there were five envelopes addressed to, her, Rick, TC, Kumu, and Gordon which looked like they contained money, and I one that was addressed to everyone, except Magnum leading her to believe that they were from him.

Upon seeing that she immediately sent a text in the group chat labeled important or SOS, telling them to get over here.

twenty minutes later

Everyone was gathered on the porch looking at Higgins expectantly.

"I am sure you are wondering why you are here," Higgins said, "well this morning I came out and saw this box with letters for us, I texted you guys then looked in the guesthouse, and well it looks like it did before Magnum moved in."

Everyone had equally concerned looks on their faces.

" I am going to read the letter addressed to everyone," Higgins said.

Dear to whom it may concern,

I got assigned a mission, involving, a specialized group of seals, in this box is all of my belongings, and envelopes assigned to each of you.

- one of Ria’s dog tags

"whos," Gordon asked looking at Rick and TC

TC said, "Thomas was part of an experimental group of SEALs who were partnered with dogs, for his last couple of years before we were captured, in the Navy, when we were just doing ex-fil for him and Nuzo, well anyway, he had a German Shepherd named Soteria or Ria,”

“The Greek goddess of protection, I presume?” Higgins asked

“she was viciously protective of Thomas like whenever he was hurt she would guard his bedside and growl at anybody who came near him, she almost bit my face off one time when I picked them up at ex-fil she followed him everywhere, where there was one there was another, it was like that for a year, until about two weeks before or the Taliban, a mission went wrong and Magnum carried her back ten miles to ex-fil, along with half carrying, two of the men under his command while bleeding from a bullet graze on his ribs."

“Command?” Gordon questioned

"He is a fourth-generation lieutenant in the military," Rick said, "Ria spent a week in the hospital, normally the dog would have got put down, but Magnums father was friends with an admiral, who pulled some strings, Ria got sent home and Magnum was supposed to follow a two weeks later and he asked to be put on reserve for a year as his mother's health was declining. We got captured and eighteen months later Ria was nowhere to be found. She would be five now."

Everyone was silent for a few moments before, Higgins continued,

-four purple hearts, one mine, one my fathers, one my grandfather's, one my great-grandfathers.

-distinguished flying cross my fathers.

-Navy Cross

“Hold up he has a navy cross, and he did not tell us!” Rick exclaimed causing everyone to look at him.

“he didn’t tell you?” Kumu questioned, but before they could answer Higgins started reading again.

Yes I did not tell you, but hey you know now, and for your information, I might have… you know what never mind.

-My choker whites and other medals

-Stanley’s police badges

-one gold star my fathers.

-dog tags

-some photographs

-letters

-My will

-my lucky Tiger's hat

-keys to 124 lex Rd Detroit Michigan,

-Keys to 17 Virginia Beach Rd Virginia Beach Virginia

-a safe containing important paperwork PLEASE DO NOT OPEN FOR THE SAKE OF MY PRIVACY

-a laptop

That is all my personal belongings,

A couple more favors, could you guys go check on those addresses, and yes I own them.

In the envelopes us the amount of money I owe each of you, and no I haven't secretly been rich, I just finally won the lawsuit against my ex-stepfather, and ex stepbrother, and got all my money from when I was a POW, those properties and my inheritance, and I finally figured out what happened to Ria, Frank confessed to creating some sob story to get someone to take her in, she was working for the police, I got her back a month ago, and have been rehashing her training at night, in secret, thanks to TC for helping.

Everyone glared at TC who held up his arms in defense and said, "he asked me not to tell anyone about it, as he didn't think that you guys would approve of him jumping out of aircraft, with a dog strapped to his chest."

"You know he is good at, keeping secrets for a guy who makes it seem like he is an open book," Higgins said while shaking her head sadly with a fond smile before continuing

Yes Higgins I snuck a dog onto the property, and kept her there for over a month without you knowing, to be fair she is trained not to make a peep, and I am the security consultant, so I adjusted the cameras to have a few blind spots, the velociraptors rather liked her company.

That's all, except Higgins check out operation dogwood keep what you find to your self. Expect something from Mac in a month.

Lieutenant commander Thomas Magnum IV

Higgins look into my completed solo missions and cross-reference it with operation dogwood

“That is it, is this seriously his only things, the stuff that fits into this box?” Higgins questioned concerned, and since he had a higher paygrade than you guys shouldn’t he have had more money than you guys, and I always thought that Nuzo was in charge, especially since Magnum never seemed like the take-charge type of guy, and he was the youngest out of all of you.” Gordon said.

TC and Rick shivered simultaneously at the thought of Magnum, when he was in lieutenant mode, before TC said, “He may seem, laid back, but when he is mad he is mad, and honestly his tactics were always so out of the left-field I never knew what he was going to do next or tell us to do, I have seen him somehow get the attention of over a hundred Afghan civilians instantly,”

They broke up after that and went their separate ways with plans to meet up later and maybe dig into Magnums background

***

Magnum knew that he could not stay in the Robins nest he just couldn’t do this anymore, everyone had someone that they spent most of their time with causing him to feel super alone so last week when he got requested to participate in a top-secret mission with his dog whom he recently got reunited with after three years and they had already fallen back into the pattern, he told TC as he needed to make sure that Ria still had her training which fortunately she did.

Once he got Ria back he had a feeling something was going to happen so he started to pick up his training level to what it had been like when he was a seal. Now that he had Ria, back there was something to look forward to his depression had not been as bad recently, and neither had his nightmares, he knew that if TC and Rick knew that he had been having issues again they would probably monitor him twenty-four/seven to make sure he did not kill himself like he had been considering when he realized that he had nothing left his mother was gone his dog was gone his faithful companion and protector was gone. He almost jumped off a bridge one time shortly after Nuzo died not that anybody knew that.

Magnum put the box and letters on the porch, he knew that they would find it, he had changed his power of attorney to Higgins/TC/Rick, but to contact Mac in case he is ever injured as e did not need them coming to him every time he got a little bit hurt

He just could not handle Hawaii anymore after everything that happened he can't do this anymore that’s what he told himself as he left, hoping that he might start to believe it.

#Magnum PI #febwhumpday2 #febwhump #suicidal thoughts #juliet higgins #tc

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mypoorfaves · 7 years

Text

Yoi sickfics masterpost

I said I would and I did! This list contains every sickfic I have read and enjoyed from fanfiction and ao3, sorted by character and tagged for symptoms. Please read the tags carefully for any potential triggers!

If you liked this list, you can check out a similar masterpost I did a while back for whumpy yoi fics focusing on injury and angst.

(Fics all listed under the cut)

～～～

～～～Otabek～～～

The Tale of a Sick Hero by 2D_Earth

1000~ words

In which Otabek is sick, and Yuri dotes.

Tags: aged-up characters, coughing, cold, fever, mentions of emeto

～～～Yurio ～～～

after the cold comes warmth by orphan_account

1400~ words

Yuri lets out another sigh. A cold during the off-season is one thing because then he can just sleep it off and make up for lost time on his own but now… Now is his chance to prove himself; to Victor, to the other Yuri and to the rest of the figure skating world that he’s someone to look out for—a force to be reckoned with—as has his moniker, ’The Russian Punk’, seems to imply.

Tags: cold, sore throat, fever, headache, dizziness, nausea, emeto mention

Ruffled Feathers by Bam4Me

1600~ words

This is all Yuuri and Victor's fault. Yuri felt FINE until one of them suggested that maybe he didn't, and now he's sick. Those assholes.

Or, the YOI Wingfic that no one was expecting to be a secret fluff fest.

Tags: wingfic au, cold, sore throat, chills, coughing, dizziness

Intertwined by stella_polaris

5900~ words

Yuri comes down with a bad cold and has to take a break from training. That gives him lots of time to think about the relationship with his best friend and is he maybe not just his best friend?

Tags: aged-up characters, cold, fever, coughing, fainting, passing out, headache

Promise by _Angel_ (Meganekko_Misery)

1400~ words

Yuri Plisetsky gets sick during ballet class.

Tags: stomach flu, emeto

Of Sick Days and Movies by BunniesofDoom

1200~ words

Yuri is feverish and grumpy. Yuuri tries to help.

Tags: fever, more fluff than sickfic

Raincheck by CalamityK

1100~ words

“You’ll be better before I leave.” Otabek hums; tracing the patterns of his upcoming routine on Yuri’s thighs.

Yuri meets his eyes. “And if I’m not?”

“Then I’ll just take a raincheck.”

--------

Or that fic where Yuri is sick and Otabek is simply the best.

Tags: sore throat, more fluff than sickfic

Even Tigers Ain't Always Tough by CalamityK

1500~ words

“I don’t mean hot like attractive. I mean hot like I could fry an egg on you.” Otabek says rather sternly. “You have a fever.”

--------

Or that fic where Yuri gets sick and Otabek gets worried.

Tags: aged-up characters, established romantic/sexual otayuri, fever, coughing

～～～Victor ～～～

Practice Is Cancelled by Arisprite

4900~ words

Victor gets a cold, and the Katsuki family is there for him.

Tags: cold, fever, coughing, chills, overheating

Feverish by SarkaS

4900~ words

Yuuri should have known this was going to happen. He warned Victor it was not good idea run that far with what weather forecast said, and in such light clothes.

Tags: fever, sore throat, chills, headache

Safe & Secure by glim

1100~ words

He hates this, though; he hates being sick and how being sick reminds him of cold hotel rooms after long flights and mornings spent in colder airports.

Tags: sore throat, headache, coughing

Ill-Timed by glim

3100~ words

Yuuri glances at Viktor, working to keep the frown off his face. If you weren’t looking too closely, you might think that it was mere fatigue that made Viktor look pale and shadow-eyed, or made his voice sound quiet and rough.

Tags: cold, coughing, chills, sneeze

Two Minutes by GooberFeesh

1500~ words

Even though Yuuri knew it was just a cold and that it could have been much, much worse, it didn’t really eliminate the feeling of dread when Viktor awoke two mornings ago to a sore throat, stuffy nose, and tight chest.

Tags: cold, fever, congestion, sneeze, coughing

Love So Sick by rinhoshinya

300~ words

Viktor is whiny and clingy when he’s sick and Yuuri doesn’t quite mind this.

Tags: cold, fever, short and sweet

Calling us home by Vampiric_Charms

3400~ words

Anxiety, guilt, stress - all par for the course, isn’t it (then tripled when Victor is concerned). Double that triple when Victor is suddenly not around when Yuuri comes from from practice, and then add in a few unexpected text messages, some maybe not-so-helpful off-hand words from his sister, and even more baffling responses from Victor himself, and of course Yuuri’s afternoon goes much differently than he really expected - or wanted - it to.

Tags: mentions of emeto, headache, chronic headaches, bit of self-depreciating victor and sadness

Porridge by Sitrus

800~ words

Viktor's sick, Yuuri takes care of him. You can't find Viktor's go-to sick day food in Hasetsu.

Tags: stomach flu, nausea, mentions of emeto

Delirious by MeowshmallowX

1000~ words

In which Yuuri does funny things to Viktor’s heart—right up until he passes out.

Tags: flu, fever, collapsing, passing out, delirious, delirium, coughing

Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch (You Know That I Love You) by RennieOnIceCream (Hitsugi_Zirkus)

3500~ words

Viktor catches himself and doesn’t even hide his smile when he asks, “Did you just call me ‘honey’?”

By the way Yuuri hurriedly glances to the side, it looks like he hadn’t even realized he’d done it intentionally. It had just slipped out, and that’s what makes the occurrence of it all the more lovely to replay in Viktor’s head again, and then again, and then maybe thrice more.

Viktor bats his eyelashes at Yuuri. “Say it again~”

Or, moving in together in St. Petersburg takes some adjustment, some stressful and some very, very sweet.

Tags: fever, lots of petnames, more fluff than sickfic

Easy Now with My Heart by braveten

12 300~ words

“Fast, Yuuri. Pow pow.”

“Pow pow?”

He giggles—Victor Nikiforov, figure skating champion, Olympic athlete, Yuuri’s idol, who is currently sick and delusional, giggles—and puts his hand on Yuuri’s chest, pillowing his head there, too. “Pow pow,” he repeats as he feels his heartbeat. “Pow pow, pow pow. Fast, see?”

Tags: cold, flu, fever, nausea, emeto, delirious, delirium, coughing

don’t worry by JMonCheri

21 700~ words

Time seemed to slow to a stop, at first Viktor seemed to falter as he slowed alongside with time, his flush obvious on his cheeks. Viktor stopped skating, his form stayed frozen on the rink, before promptly dropping to the ice like a ragdoll. Yuuri gasps alongside with the crowd. Viktor did not do any jumps, spins, or anything. Viktor Nikiforov, his undefeatable champion, his naive Fiancé, his love, his everything, has simply fainted.

Viktor did not look like he was going to get up anytime soon.

For the first time that night, Yuuri allowed himself to listen to the announcer’s booming voices.

“Viktor Nikiforov has fainted! Where are the medics? I repeat, Viktor Nikiforov has fainted!”

Tags: !!character death!!, cancer, leukemia, keeping secrets, hiding illness, collapsing, fainting, hospital, iv, fever, time skip in second chapter, yuuri has child, lots of feels, wow just really depressing, the ending is bittersweet, like not heartbreaking imo but still feels

～～～Yuuri ～～～

Practice Should Be Cancelled by Arisprite

2100~ words

Yuri has had a low key cold for days, and it’s really grating on his nerves. It doesn’t help that the forced inactivity is pushing up anxieties he’d thought he had under control.

A companion story to Practice is Cancelled but the only connection is that they’re both sickfics, so no need to one before the other.

Tags: cold, fever, slow build, coughing, anxiety

Crash by cosmicrelief

2800~ words

Yuuri comes down with a cold and Viktor has no idea how to deal with it.

Tags: cold, fever, shivering, chills, headache, dizziness, collapsing, passing out

Reunion by CheekyPotato

2000~ words

After a month apart due to competitions, Yuuri finally reunites with his fiance but it doesn't go as planned.

Takes place after Season 1

Tags: cold, sore throat, headache, sneeze, fever, coughing

Breakfast in Bed by glim

1600~ words

"You have a cold," Viktor confirms. "And I have breakfast for you."

Tags: cold, coughing, sneeze

Tender Care by Sabinasan

7400~ words

When Yuri comes down with the flu, Victor takes the opportunity to strengthen his budding relationship with him while nursing him back to health.

Tags: flu, nausea, emeto, fever, chills, overheating, headache

Sniffle, Sneeze, Skate…? by pendots

1400~ words

Victor gaped. Yuuri didn’t look fit to be standing, much less skating!

(In which poor Yuuri is sick but still insistent that he and Victor go to practice. Victor won’t have it.)

Tags: cold, fever, coughing

Dizziness is not Contagious by Lazchan

3000~ words

Yuuri is determined to skate; however a cold makes it a bit difficult to stay upright.

Tags: fever, dizziness, collapsing, passing out, bit delirious

I'm right here by your side by Alliwriteistrash

1100~ words

Yuuri is feeling sick and Victor does everything he can to help him get better.

Tags: chills, fever, short and sweet

Caring by BunniesofDoom

1100~ words

Yuuri gets sick, Victor panics, and Yuri saves the day.

Tags: fever, coughing

Arrivals by youaremarvelous

6700~ words

Yuuri falls ill shortly after moving to St. Petersburg. With Viktor away on a sponsor meeting, it’s up to the Ice Tiger of Russia to nurse him back to health.

Tags: sinus infection, strep throat, sore throat, fever, chills, emeto, congestion, headache, coughing

Auspices by youaremarvelous

8000~ words

How many Russians does it take to cure a sick person?

Yuuri probably doesn't want to be the punchline to that joke.

A sequel to Arrivals

Tags: sinus infection, strep throat, sore throat, fever, emeto, chills, headache, coughing, dizziness, blood

to where the reality grows by CarbonFootprint

3000~ words

“Victor had been through enough long seasons of vigorous skating to know how the off-season went: first came the exhaustion mixed with a burning need to continue to train as hard as one would when in-season, and then, as if on queue, came the crash afterwards.

It was different for each and every skater of course, and probably for most athletes of any rigorous profession. Victor had always gotten some kind of bout of the flu that kept his bedridden for several days, but Chris, for example, seemed to always come down with allergies and muscle aches that kept him away from the rink for a week at least.

For some it was a cold and for others it was aches and pain, but either way he knew he should expect something similar from Yuuri. ”

In which Victor dotes on sick Yuuri as any fiancé should.

Tags: cold, slow build, fever, dizziness

I’m Right Here by merigold

8800~ words

Yuuri’s sick. Viktor’s more than a little charmed at the chance to take care of him.

Tags: bronchitis, fever, clinic, hospital mention, fever, coughing, anxiety, home remedies

Of Sickness and Healing by Tonys_Loki

1700~ words

Yuuri’s eyes flutter open and Victor smiles softly at him despite the haze in the warm browns.

“Victor?” Yuuri rasps.

“Hello, my love. How do you feel?” Victor asks.

“Better,” Yuuri answers.

Victor has to suppress a laugh at that, because if anything Yuuri looks worse and sounds just as bad as he did that morning.

In which Yuuri is sick and Victor is trying his best to make him better.

Tags: fever, mentions of emeto, nausea

The Fundamentals of Caring by braveten

20 800~ words

“Let me guess, you’re going to go take care of Yuuri while he sleeps? Just in case he sneezes or something?” Yurio rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “Viktor, you’re whipped.”

Viktor rubs the back of his neck as he leans against the wall. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if Yuuri asked you to do a little dance for him in nothing but a coconut bra and a hula skirt, you’d do it.”

Viktor pauses, confused. “And that’s a bad thing?”

Tags: flu, fever, delirious, delirium, emeto, !!sexual content!! (in the second chapter; easily skippable)

The Razor’s Edge by kitykat17

29 500~ words

Yuuri was used to a hard life. But this was a whole new level.

Yuri’s life is going well. He as at the peak of his career, and has started his life in Russia with the man he loved, Victor Nikiforov. However, things take an unexpected turn when he finds out he has cancer. How will he tell Victor? What will these mean for his career?

Tags: cancer, leukemia, emeto, hiding illness, angst, clinic, hospital, spinal tap, chemotherapy, crying, pneumonia, coughing, fever, !!alternate ending available with character death!!

～～～Both Victor and Yuuri～～～

a little room to breathe by qynntessence

9000~ words

Viktor blows his nose wetly and blushes, turning away from Yuuri’s kind eyes. “Can-Can I have another tissue?” He blows his nose again, a thick, congested sound, which turns into thick, congested sneezing. “I’m sorry, I know it can’t be much fun to take care of your sick fiancé when you have a cold. Asthma sucks.”

In which Yuuri has a cold (and also anxiety), Viktor has the flu (and also asthma), and they’re messy and in love and try their best.

Tags: cold, flu, one past emeto mention, asthmatic victor, asthma attack, coughing, headache, fever, chills, overheating, sneeze, anxiety

Insult to Injury by glim

8000~ words

Almost a whole week alone with Viktor might not be worth one of them made victim to a sprained ankle and both of them to a winter head cold, but maybe it is worth all that, at least in some small way.

Tags: cold, sore throat, sneeze, headache, injury, sprain, sprained ankle, contagion

Ice Gays by iceprinceofbelair

4900~ words

A collection of sickfics for my fave ice gays.

Tags: cold, fever, overheating, crying, jetlag, tired, asthmatic victor, asthma attack, trans victor in one chapter, period cramps, soreness

161 notes · View notes

imaginetonyandbucky · 7 years

Text

The Long Way Round - Part II of IV

[Part I] | [Part III] | [Part IV]

2017

Bucky groans, annoyed but not surprised, when the speakers crackle to life to announce that his train has been cancelled. Resigned, he makes his way back up to street level, flipping his collar up against the biting wind. It’s still snowing heavily, like it has been for the last few days, and there isn’t a single cab in sight. Bucky doubts even an Uber would come in this kind of weather.

Grumbling under his breath, he snuggles a little deeper into his coat and starts walking to the café at the end of the block. Steve’s shift ends in an hour and a half, and he can probably be convinced to make a detour and pick Bucky up on his way home, if the subway’s still closed by then.

Bucky’s nose and cheeks are freezing by the time he pushes open the door to the café, and he’s shedding snow everywhere as he takes in the absolutely packed sitting area. Clearly, he isn’t the only one who’s had the idea to wait out the worst of the storm with some much needed caffeine. He has to elbow his way through to the counter—which isn’t easy, given he only has the one elbow—and then wait a good ten minutes for his simple black coffee, but waves away the harassed-looking barista’s apology, and leaves a huge tip.

There aren’t any free tables, of course, but there’s one table with a free armchair, and by this point, Bucky’s more than ready to make awkward small talk if that gets him a seat somewhere warm and dry. Coffee clutched closely against his chest, Bucky slowly winds his way through the crowd, cursing himself for not having ordered a takeaway cup with a lid when he gets jostled left and right.

And, sure enough, just before he reaches his destination, someone bumps into his back, making him stumble and his coffee slosh around dangerously. The person starts apologising immediately, but Bucky barely hears any of it, too focused on the voice itself; it’s familiar, and so is the scent that hits him a moment later.

Bucky whirls around, heedless of his coffee, and there’s Tony. Bucky’s breath catches, and Tony cuts himself off mid-word, eyes growing wide. They stare at each other for a long, loaded moment, which is only broken when Tony suddenly glances over Bucky’s shoulder, his whole body going tense.

(Watch out for the break, mobile readers!)

Frowning, Bucky follows Tony’s gaze, heart skipping a beat when he sees what Tony’s looking at. Or who, rather. Nestled into the armchair Bucky had thought empty is a boy with Tony’s tousled brown hair, watching them curiously with the same pale grey eyes Bucky sees in the mirror every morning.

He’s startled out of his staring when Tony springs back into motion, and moves over to the boy, pushing some papers and crayons out of the way before setting down a napkin with a muffin on it. “Where’s your juice?” he asks, and rolls his eyes when the boy gestures at the floor. Sippy cup retrieved, cleaned, and back on the table, Tony kisses the top of the boy’s head, then brushes a hand through his air. “Eat your muffin, buddy. Daddy’s just going to talk to a friend real quick, okay?”

The boy nods absently, already tearing into his food. Tony straightens back up, and takes a deep, visible breath before heading back to Bucky.

“What’s his name?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Theo,” Tony says, equally quiet. He wraps his arms around himself self-consciously. “Theodore James.”

Bucky has to set his coffee down at that so he has his hand free to cover his eyes for a moment. As if seeing the one person he never got over again wasn’t complicated enough already, now there’s also a kid involved. Bucky’s kid. Bucky has a kid, with Tony. The love of his life. Fucking Christ.

“I didn’t know about TJ,” Tony says, staring down at his feet. “Back when—back then.”

There’s a big part of Bucky that wants to be angry, furious even, but it feels wrong to aim it at Tony. Who became a parent at twenty, who went through pregnancy and the first years of raising a kid presumably all on his own, with the other dad first deployed half a world away, and then a POW for months.

Still. “I would’ve helped,” Bucky says, clenching his hand into a fist to keep himself from reaching out. “You gotta know that, Tony. Don’t matter that we’re broken up, that’s—that’s my son. I’d do anythin’ for him, I would.”

Tony doesn’t look at him. “I know.”

“Then why—”

“Howard would have loved it,” Tony interrupts, laughing harshly. “He had this whole plan laid out, all ready to go. The omega heir to the Stark legacy and the decorated alpha soldier, the perfect all-American military couple. Our PR department’s wet dream, you would have hated it.”

“Sure, yeah, that sounds fuckin’ shitty,” Bucky allows, because that much is true. “But you—you and my kid, you woulda been worth it.”

Tony shakes his head, mouth twisting. “I wasn’t going to be your ball and chain—”

“C’mon, Tony, you know that’s bullshit, I—”

“Well, your friends didn’t seem to think so,” Tony snaps, and then immediately pales, like he’s said too much.

Bucky frowns. “What’re you talkin’ about? I don’t—”

“It’s nothing, forget it, it’s fine.” Tony looks relieved beyond measure when his phone beeps. He quickly checks the message, then turns to TJ. “Uncle Rhodey’s here. Let’s put on your coat, baby.”

Bucky is summarily ignored while Tony dresses his—their, shit, that will take some getting used to—kid, and he’s obviously not going to start a fight or make a scene when Tony stands back up with TJ perched on his hip.

He’s not above smiling and waving at TJ, though. TJ jams the fingers of one hand into his mouth, but waves back with the other before curling it into Tony’s jacket. There’s chocolate from his muffin smeared all around his mouth, he’s got crayon smudges on his cheek, and is obviously tired, rubbing at his eyes with his spit-covered fingers. Bucky adores him already.

Bucky has no idea what kind of expression he’s wearing when he looks back at Tony, but something in Tony’s face softens when he sees it. He jostles TJ so he can fish his phone back out of his pocket, and holds it out to Bucky.

“I’m not—this isn’t—ugh,” he huffs, nose scrunched up. “I’m sorry. I’ll call you? Tonight?”

“Yes, yeah. Please,” Bucky says, and then he can’t resist any longer. He squeezes Tony’s shoulder, just for a second, and tugs playfully at TJ’s foot. “‘M lookin’ forward to it.”

Tony doesn’t say anything else, but he does give Bucky a brief, shy smile before the door closes behind him and TJ.

- Potrix

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha bucky #omega tony #alternate universe #human au #misunderstandings #hurt/comfort #kid fic #past mpreg #thelongwayround #prompts #potrix

318 notes · View notes

jawllines · 8 years

Text

OKAY I KNOW IVE POSTED THIS BEFORE BUT THIS IS WHAT I HAVE OF STANDOFFISH HARRY AND YALL ARE DOWN FOR IT RIGHT?

Harry doesn't talk to most people.

It's not because he's hateful nor is he cruel, he just really can't find it in his heart to speak with them. Truth be told, he can't be bothered with most of the high school bullshit that had bled into university, which included staring at him like he was some science exhibit, starting rumors about him, giggling while he walked by. He was proper annoyed by it -- he'd always garnered a lot of attention throughout all of his life, but it wasn't until Junior year he realized it was all shit. Popularity didn't matter, Harry hated his friends, and he didn't want to talk to them anymore.

So he didn't.

And he'd secluded himself into a life where he was comfortable and content with silence, not minding the cold feeling of solitary as his marks improved ten fold and he'd felt more confident in who he was. Not trying to be anyone but himself, wearing what he wanted without regard, doing as he wanted, and if he had to speak he would say what he wanted to. There was no longer the pressure to fit in and be as everyone wanted him to be.

However, this merely attracted more attention, and more people tried to weasel into his life than even before that. They pleaded with him to go to parties, which sometimes he would and he would give into temptations (or rather his dick would tell him to give into temptations) and he would drink, fuck someone, then leave. It gave him a small reputation and apparently he'd broken lots of hearts, but he thinks that's silly -- how could he break someone's heart if he didn't even know them properly? It's their fault, he thinks, for painting this image of him without knowing anything about Harry to base it off -- they'd imagined him the quiet brooding type with a soft spot for the one he likes.

Harry doesn't think he has many soft spots though. One for cats, one for his family, and one for coral reefs, but those were it he's pretty sure.

"Hey, Harry, wait!"

Maybe one more.

Y/N is -- well, Y/N is different. She'd squeezed her way into Harry's life when he'd come to this university and cemented her spot there, which he's confused on how she'd done it. Harry had come in expecting what the last two years of high school were like -- no friends, lots of fucking, good grades, and lots of free time -- but Y/N changed a good chunk of it. They'd met during one of Harry's cramming sessions for a test, sat in the library with books surrounding him and his head aching. He hadn't eaten much at all that day when he should've, and his stomach only punctuated his thought with a growl that frustrates him. There was no time to go down to the dining hall -- besides, it was around dinner and it was always crowded then.

She slid the chair out across from him, plopped down and made him look up, "Hi, I'm Y/N nice to meet you. I noticed you didn't have a study snack and I have an extra muffin and some milk."

Harry's mouth watered at the thought, he remembers, that nothing had sounded so good in his life, but he's seen this before. Girls always tried to butter him up while he was studying -- something about studious types being sexy or summat -- and his brows furrowed recalling that the one time he had let someone sit with him while he was studying and they'd offered a granola, they did a whole lot of talking and a whole lot of asking Harry for his notes, out for a date, and a quick fuck in the library storage room. It'd ruffled his feathers so much he sat up without a word and left.

So he replies, "I don't want it." Before turning his head back down to his books, thinking maybe that would dismiss her but she only sets them down off to the side.

"That's fine, I'll leave 'em here just in case." Then she sat back, pulled out her own books from her bag and settling with a small huff. He noticed that they were the same Biology books he had out and he worried and annoyed she was going to ask him for help, even more so when she'd peered across to see they had the same books. "Say, here," she uttered, reaching into her bag and pulling out two things -- a tattered pair of notes and a neatly dissected one, color coded and all, "I took a Botany class in high school and it's made it loads easier since it had most of the basics! Even dug out my old notes for it, so it's easier if you read off that and build on top of it with all that unnecessary stuff they're throwing into it."

That was it. She'd not looked at him expecting a thank you, nor did it seem she'd been looking for a response either.

Thirty minutes in, Harry took the muffin and the milk after a very intense inner battle and out of the corner of his eye he saw Y/N smiling slightly down into her book. He ignored it though, ate the muffin with a satisfied hum and drank it down with the milk all while staring at the girl before him. And he knew she felt eyes on her but she didn't confront them, only plucked at her lip and outlined one of the chapters.

They'd stayed there until it was 7PM and Y/N stretched out with a loud yawn that made her eyes water, "S'time for dinner and bed, I'd say! Thanks for letting me study with you."

It'd opened up a can of worms Harry hadn't particularly meant to open, but he can't say that he hated it. Y/N was nice to have around, he found, as the days went on and they studied together more often, and she'd got him to eat lunch with her starting with a few times before it became daily and he was waiting for her near the fountain outside of the dining hall. Then Y/N roped him into movie nights, study pow wows with her friends (where he didn't talk but she still sat besides him and included him in everything), and even late night workout sessions in which Harry did most of the working out and Y/N watched and talked to him from the side with a bag of chips (but dare he say her work out clothes were pretty cute).

Y/N was soft and warm in all the places Harry was stony and cold, and she was sweet where Harry was sour, and she was gentle where Harry was rough. They balanced each other out, and he liked that. It was the first time in a long time that he'd been hanging out with someone he genuinely liked.

So he pivots on his heel to face her, seeing as she's struggling to catch up with her bag heavy on her shoulders and two bento boxes in her hand, "Jeez, you're fast." She huffs a breath through her nose, bending down to regain her breath while Harry slides the backpack off of her, holding it by the top strap.

"You pack too heavy." He tells her, but he's told her time and time again and she doesn't listen. Though he never quite reprimands her for it, only giving her pointed looks when she complains about her back hurting and asking if he would go with her to the people training in physical therapy because sometimes they'll dish out massages for a good price, "Your test went well?"

She nods, sitting up straighter and they start walking again -- it was nice out today, the sun was a comforting glow beaming down on them like an old friend apologizing for disappearing -- so Y/N decided they should eat outside and Harry agreed to it. There were little picnic like tables just outside the fountain in the quad that people eat at often and Harry himself had eaten their once but he'd been disrupted by a particularly chatty group so he left without getting to enjoy it fully. "It was great, thanks to you! You've got such a knack for math, you know, you could probably be a big shot stock market broker. Like Wolf of Wall Street heights, minus the scandal and jail time."

Harry smiles some, sliding onto one side of the table while Y/N sits on the other, slipping the yellow bento box towards him. Never does he ask her to make him lunch, but she does anyways, and she makes damn good little sandwiches so he doesn't mind it at all. That with grapes, chips, and different little desserts, and Harry was able to make it through his remaining two classes without even a stutter of a growl from his tummy.

Today she'd brought him a wrap of some sort so he tears into it with a big bite, humming lowly at the taste, "S'good." He compliments, and Y/N is about to answer when she stops, but he keeps looking at her. Not noticing someone had walked up besides them because he'd occupied his thoughts with whether Y/N had taken cold medicine or if she skipped it. A light sniffle was normal, sure, but the bags beneath her eyes prefaces that she got little sleep and a subtle red tinge on her nose says it's irritated from tissue being shoved up it. He's got half the mind to scold her but Y/N had decided to handle their visitor, startling him some.

"Hi," Y/N begins, "Um -- I like you sweater?"

"Thanks, but I was actually coming over here to talk to Harry." The girl turns on her heels to face more towards him and Harry gives her a once over to see if he recognized her with an unamused gaze. How could she be so rude? No matter her reason for coming over, there was no reason to shoot down Y/N's halfhearted attempt at conversation. Acting as if Y/N was the one intruding when she is the intruder, "Hi Harry."

When he remains silent, Y/N clears her throat, "Oh, uh -- he doesn't talk much."

"Oh." She replies, only partially defeated before setting her hands down on the table and Harry's eyebrow twitches, "So like the shy type, yeah? Makes sense."

"No." Harry answers before Y/N could, and he finally peers up at her, "I'm not interested."

Her face draws into a pout, "You don't even know --"

"What he means is --" Y/N cuts in, and Harry's brows furrow, looking towards her, " -- he's not big on dates, if that's what you're proposing. Especially if you've never spoken to each other before."

While she was right on that last bit, Harry nearly mentions that the obvious red flag was her more or less blowing Y/N off to speak with him. It pisses him right the fuck off when people are rude to her, there's no way he would even be able to be friends with this girl if she's going about this as she is, let alone a lover as he's mostly wanted for. Though before he can, the girl pipes up again, "I see. So maybe we could get to know each other? We met at a party last week and I just keep thinking about you. Here, I'll send you a message so you can have my number --"

"Don't bother," he says before she can get any farther, "I said I wasn't interested in this. If we fucked, sorry for leading you on, if we didn't, I don't know why you'd want to be associated with me anyways." And Harry wants this conversation to end right there, now that he's said his piece, so he looks back towards Y/N and says, "These are organic grapes, no?"

The girl gets the hint, leaving with a huff and Y/N tuts her tongue at him.

"You're so mean, Harry! What if she really liked you?"

Harry shakes his head, "She liked my cock not me." He says casually, and Y/N's face turns towards sheepish like it always does when the mere mention of his escapades comes to head (which it doesn't often, but he knows Y/N has ears and she hears things), "'sides, she was rude to you. I don't like that." He straightens out, "Did you take your medicine?"

"How can you always tell?" Y/N grumbles, around a sigh, "I hate the liquid stuff Harry, you know that!"

"Don't be a baby," he murmurs through a smile, leaning down before digging in his bag for the cold medicine he brought around with him. He carts it around for both him and Y/N, because a stuffed nose and a sore throat can strike at any moment and if it happens to one of them it's bound to happen to the both of them. He pours a capful for her despite her whines, and slips it over to her. "There yeh go, drink it fast."

A small grunt later and she takes it into her hands, giving him one last plead look and when she realizes he's not budging, tossing it back like a shot. Her face pinching at the taste before rushing for the apple juice she had, taking a big drink then parting from the nozzle with a wet gasp, "That was terrible! Jesus, why not get the cute Jell-O flavored ones. The baby ones."

"With how often you get sick, I do presume you've got a baby immune system." He teases, and Y/N nudges him with her foot beneath the table.

It was easy with her.

So yeah, maybe he did have a soft spot for Y/N.

. . .

Harry thinks the highlight of his weeks are Fridays.

Fridays meant the weekend was coming, and he could stay up as late as he wanted that night with no repercussions. They used to mean binge watching Call the Midwife until 3AM and late night drives to the Taco Bell down the way, but now -- with Y/N in his life they're something different. Fridays with Y/N meant meeting her right after their last class, going to eat at the dining hall before hurrying to Harry's apartment on campus to drop off their stuff, pick up his car, and race over to the convenient store to scavenge snacks and drinks. They meant returning to Harry's place with armfuls of treats, dodging people trying to stop them to talk, relaxing on Harry's couch and plugging in his fairy lights for a warm glow. They meant sitting on the couch and watching a scary movie that makes Y/N so jumpy and jittery that she ends up spending then night.

This Friday was no different. Harry and Y/N were sat surrounded by food and drinks, Netflix brought up and Harry's cat weaving between the two of them trying to settle on a spot. Before they started the movie though, Y/N started on some tangent about parasites taking over an insect's mind and Harry muses her by pretending to listen. He kept getting distracted as of late -- not in general, just with her. Harry finds that he likes staring at her. . .he likes watching how her lips curve around letters and sounds, and the way her eyes glitter in the fairy lights of his room. How soft her cheeks look, and he wonders if he's allowed to trace the apples of her cheeks or if that might just be a "try it while she naps" sort of thing.

". . .and s'like, they can control ecosystems I know, but they're so damn gross I can't stand it." He blinks at her, nodding slow like he'd been listening, "Oi, is there something on my face?" She asks, reaching up with a sweater covered hand to swipe away at her face, "You're staring pretty hard."

Tilting to the side, Harry shakes his head no before turning to the TV, "No, you're fine." Reaching for the remote, Harry returns to settle back in his plushy cushions and Y/N is shuffling to get herself comfortable, cuddled up in a heavy waffle knit blanket. The apartment was always pretty cold, as that's what Harry likes, but sometimes he considers toggling with the thermostat so she's more comfortable. Often though, Y/N tells him that she likes to be a little cold because it gives her an excuse to bundle up -- which doesn't make much sense to him, but he doesn't mind it.

As the movie starts and a low tone ripples through his speakers, Y/N shuffles nearer and curls her arms around a pillow, "Heard this one is supposed to be mad scary. Gory too."

"S'that so?" He murmurs, "Well, you better keep your feet off the ground then."

"Not funny," she pouts, but pulls her legs up anyway, "I wouldn't get me too scared or you've gotta deal with me for a whole night."

It's true -- when a movie is particularly scary and Y/N is visibly shaken, he gives her his bed for the night and sleeps on the floor besides it on a pallet of blankets, pillows, and sheets. Sometimes he hopes the movie is scary so she will spend the night. . .something about the gentle sounds of her sleeping comforts him greatly, and the shuffling of her on the bed, or soft coos and murmurings. He likes waking up to a still very asleep Y/N and waking her up for breakfast. Likes watching a still very sleepy Y/N get heaps of breakfast potatoes on her plate, and lots of eggs.

Best case scenario, that happens.

. . .

Y/N was panicking.

The movie had been about aliens and she's such a science nerd about them that it made her freak out, especially after it ended so badly (everyone got screwed over in the end and the creatures were out and about). Throughout the playtime, Y/N had ended up even closer to him than she had started and he could feel her trembling. "S'just a movie." He tries to remind her but it's falling on deaf ears, as she looks back to him with wide eyes.

"We're all fucked Harry! Aliens are real, I'm so damn sure of it, like our universe is so fucking big there's no way we're the only ones on here. Did you know we have the most UFO sightings when we're closest to Venus -- that's where they are I bet you." She looks like a conspiracist, hair a bit askew and her clothes rumpled, the blanket falling around her waist as she sits up on her knees, "Part of me hopes they aren't as smart as we think they are, and we can trick 'em or something but another part of me knows they're smarter than smart with these big fucking space ships and they've probably mastered freeze rays Harry! How do we go up against that?"

Harry had wanted her to be scared sure, for his own sleeping purposes (selfish, yes, but he slept better with her here),but now he thinks he might not be sleeping at all. Y/N wouldn't intentionally keep him up, but Harry learned a long while back that her energy bounces onto him often -- he feels her vibrating and buzzing even if he's across the room and he reflects it back. So if Y/N is wide awake and thrumming, Harry will surely be up right besides her and he quite wanted to sleep tonight.

However, he'll deal with the repercussions if need be.

"You look into things too deeply," Harry tells her, voice steady and calm, "Breathe now. They probably feed off fear so you're only fueling them."

"You are not helping in the slightest," she hisses, "We just need a game plan. Like some bats and traps -- you know in Stranger Things when they set up that whole trap to mess the one no face looking alien up?" Harry blinks blankly at her, and Y/N's brows furrow, "You haven't seen Stranger Things?" She's gaping a bit as Harry sits quiet, shaking his head, "Well then we need to watch that right now! Or at least start it -- oh you'll love it, I'm sure of it!"

Scrambling, she goes for the laptop hooked up to the TV so that she can pull the show up on Netflix. The pajama shorts she'd been wearing had rucked up some, showing off a small peek of her panties all splattered with a rose print and Harry bites his lip and shifts his gaze to the floor. He's no pervert, but Y/N had never been one to be all too shy around him and Harry finds he doesn't mind that one bit. Sometimes he'll let his mind wander to much dirtier places, but he often saves that for late nights when he's only got his hand to accompany him (and no good recent fucks to reflect on).

But Y/N plops back down onto the couch, still near to him and Harry sort of wishes she would splay herself atop of him. Often she would, especially if it was particularly cold, but he supposes she'd gotten warm beneath the heaps of blankets. Now her leg is kicked on the back of the couch and her shirt is pushed up just a bit to show a good chunk of her stomach and her shorts are still rustled and she looks back up at him with a big grin, "This'll be great." She promises, and Harry feels a heat settle in his abdomen.

Now he's a bit warm too.

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updateplss · 6 years

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today at work we were eating snacks and a coworker was like "are you a feminist" and in my head i was like...where is this question coming from are we gonna talk abt feminism....why.... i said yes. and immediately she asked "are you gay?" i said yep. then she asked if ive told my family, what did they say, if i have a gf, if ive ever introduced a gf to my family etc

after this convo the last question she asked was "are you happy? and i was like... pow pow...you didnt have to get so deep... pow pow...shot through my heart...

i said it was too broad of a question (i was ready to get depressed). she said it was in relation to me being gay and homophobia etc. and i tried to explain as much as i could in the few minutes we had my feelings of progress and set back in these few years. she said she was only asking bc she wanted me to be happy and not be affect by bigoted ppl

now the bar is REALLY low but she was literally the ///first/// person at work that when i told directly that i'm gay didn't ask questions like "have you ever been with a man? how do you know then if you haven't? what if in the future you end up liking a man?"

anyways i already had so much respect and affection for her and now 😔💞💖

#and im soft bc it feels like she was reading my mind abt how ive been feeling lately #now the fact that she asked me if im gay TODAY of all dahs i just know my name was in some convos lmao #just the idea of trying to guess who and subjects of the convos...makes me feel sick #knowing the place i am and the history of how ppl in it feel abt lgbt ppl having ppl that treat me w decency makes me wanna cry

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wallythayer · 7 years

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The Power of the Placebo Effect

Bonnie Anderson lives with her partner, Don, in a small, white bungalow in Austin, Minn. For 40 years she worked as a telephone operator for the town’s main employer, Hormel Foods, and has stayed active into her retirement. She loves nothing more than playing an 18-hole round of golf.

But in 2005 she slipped on wet tiles in her kitchen, landed on the floor, and fractured her spine. The accident left her in constant pain, unable to stand long enough to do the dishes.

“I couldn’t sleep at night,” she says. “I couldn’t play the golf I wanted to play. I’d go sit in the den with a heating pad.”

A few months after her accident, Anderson went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., to take part in a trial for an outpatient procedure called vertebroplasty, which involves injecting medical cement into fractured bone to strengthen it. She walked out of the hospital after the procedure and felt better immediately.

“It really took care of the pain. I was able to go back to golfing and [to doing] everything I wanted to do.”

Almost a decade later, Anderson says she is still delighted with the outcome. “It was a miracle how well it turned out,” she says. At 84, she is looking forward to playing more golf.

The vertebroplasty seemed to heal the effects of Anderson’s fractured spine. Except there was something Anderson didn’t know when she took part in the trial: She wasn’t in the vertebroplasty group. The procedure she received was fake.

The phenomenon in which people experience relief from symptoms after a fake treatment is called the placebo effect, and it is well known in the medical world. Clinical trials have consistently shown a strong placebo effect across a wide range of conditions, including asthma, high blood pressure, gut disorders, morning sickness, and erectile dysfunction. Medical professionals generally view these recoveries as statistical anomalies, arguing that the patients would have improved whether they’d received the treatment or not. According to the rules of evidence-based medicine, these improvements are worthless.

But by dismissing the experiences of patients like Anderson, for whom the absence of pain is worth a great deal, I can’t help but wonder, as a science journalist, whether we are throwing out something that could be of real help. Might the placebo effect have real clinical value? Can a simple belief — that we are about to get better — have the power to heal?

The Body’s Pharmacy

Fabrizio Benedetti, MD, a professor of neuroscience and physiology at the University of Turin in Italy, studies the placebo effect and sees it in every aspect of life. He says if he gives me a glass of wine and tells me how good it is, that will affect how it tastes to me. “We are symbolic animals,” he explains. “The psychological component [of experience] is important.”

His interest in the placebo effect began in the 1970s when scientists had just discovered endorphins, the class of molecules produced in the brain that act as natural painkillers. Endorphins are opiates, like morphine and heroin, except that the brain produces them itself.

In one early experiment, a researcher at the University of California, San Francisco, tested whether a placebo could trigger the release of these endorphins. A third of the patients in the study, who were recovering from oral surgery, reported significant pain relief after receiving a placebo through an IV. Then, without their knowledge, they received a dose of naloxone, a drug that blocks the effects of endorphins, also through the IV.

Their pain returned.

It was at this moment, Benedetti says, that “the biology of placebo was born.” It was the first evidence of pain-relieving biochemical pathways behind the placebo effect.

In his own trials, Benedetti identified more natural brain chemicals that, triggered by our beliefs, can turn our response to pain up or down. He found that when placebo painkillers replace opiate drugs, they don’t just relieve pain; they also slow breathing and heart rate, just as opiates do.

He also found pain-relieving placebo effects that are not mediated by endorphins and can’t be blocked by naloxone. Benedetti emphasizes that the placebo effect isn’t a single phenomenon but a “melting pot” of bodily responses, each using ingredients from the brain’s natural pharmacy, as well as from other sources we’re still learning about.

Honest Placebos

The central dogma running through all discussions of the placebo effect is that, for it to work, you have to believe you are receiving a real treatment. But placebos can work even when patients know they’re taking them.

The foremost researcher of the placebo effect is Ted Kaptchuk, a professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, who wanted to see what would happen when study participants understood clearly that they were taking a placebo. He conducted a three-week trial on 80 patients with irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). Half the group knowingly received a placebo pill and were told that although the capsules contained no active ingredient, they might work through mind–body, self-healing processes.

“Everyone thought it was crazy,” Kaptchuk says, but results of the trial, published in 2010, show that patients who were consciously taking placebos did significantly better than those who received no treatment. (I spoke to one study participant, a medical assistant named Linda, whose chronic IBS symptoms disappeared for the duration of the three-week trial, but then returned at its conclusion.) It appeared that the act of taking a pill was enough to trigger the body’s own healing response.

Kaptchuk’s more recent pilot studies of patients with depression and migraines have produced similar results. When migraine patients know-ingly took a placebo during an attack — known as an honest placebo — they felt a 30 percent reduction in pain compared with having no treatment. “My team was totally taken aback,” he says.

One of the barriers to using placebos in medicine is the concern that it’s unethical to deceive patients. Yet Kaptchuk’s studies suggest that honest placebos can work as well — even though there’s no expectation that the drug is going to work in the conventional sense, and there’s no reason for the body’s natural painkillers to kick in. Yet, somehow, they do.

States of Mind

It’s becoming more acceptable in the medical community to acknowledge that mental states can influence our physical health in measurable ways. The body of research on stress and health makes this especially clear.

Acute stress boosts the immune system in anticipation of danger or an injury, but when it stays activated for too long, it begins to rage out of control, leaving us vulnerable to chronic inflammation. Too much inflammation leads to slower wound healing and can exacerbate autoimmune diseases, such as eczema and multiple sclerosis. It can also be a precursor for many serious conditions, including cancer. Chronic stress, meanwhile, can raise blood pressure and damage blood-vessel walls, leading to clogged arteries and heart disease.

So it follows that when we’re receiving medical care, our mental state matters. Those who feel alone and afraid do not do as well as those who feel supported, safe, and in control. It matters when we feel cared for. It makes a difference in how well we heal.

This may be why forms of treatment that don’t involve drugs at all, but focus instead on relieving stress and providing emotional support, can have such powerful pain-relieving effects.

Interventional radiologist Elvira Lang developed an approach called Comfort Talk while working at Harvard Medical School in Boston. Instead of dishing out drugs to nervous patients before a procedure (she typically performed “keyhole surgeries,” operations during which the patient remains conscious), she opted to mobilize her patients’ psychological resources. She used a blend of empathic communication skills, positive suggestion, and visual imagery to help patients relax and ease their pain.

In every research trial, patients who received Comfort Talk reported far less pain and anxiety than those who’d received only standard care.

The trials revealed practical physical benefits, too: Patients required much lower levels of sedative drugs and suffered far fewer complications. In one trial of renal- and vascular-surgery patients, for example, the dosage for those in the intervention group was half that of patients in the group that didn’t receive the treatment. Surgeons also completed the procedures 17 minutes faster, on average, saving hospitals an average of $338 per patient.

Lang also worked with placebo researcher Kaptchuk to study the “nocebo” effect, or how the expectation of pain affects patients’ actual pain. They found that when patients received warnings like “this may hurt” before potentially painful events such as an injection, their pain and anxiety scores soared.

When Lang conducted Comfort Talk training for a medical team that performed MRI scans, she emphasized the importance of eliminating any negative or potentially frightening language during the procedure. (Patients were told ahead of time about any potential discomfort, but that was it.) She also instructed the providers to help patients visualize positive images. They encouraged children to think of the MRI scanner as a rocket ship and adults to imagine it as a massage table — even offering a choice of aromatherapy to supplement the illusion of a spa visit.

These adjustments may seem modest, but in a study of 14,000 MRI procedures in clinics that used Comfort Talk, the “claustro” rate — when a scan is aborted because the patient panics in the machine — was reduced by 40 percent, saving hospitals between $750 and $5,000 for each scan.

If a drug showed that kind of result in clinical trials, it would be front-page news.

Beyond Separation

Bonnie Anderson’s fake vertebroplasty banished her pain and disability, but it probably didn’t mend her spine. Placebos don’t create an all-powerful, protective magic that can keep us well in every circumstance. And they have two important limitations.

The first is that any effects caused by a belief in a treatment are limited by the body’s available natural tools. A placebo might help a patient with cystic fibrosis breathe a little more easily, but it won’t create the missing protein the lungs need. For someone with type 1 diabetes, a placebo can’t replace their dose of insulin.

Second, a variety of placebo studies have shown that our expectations about outcome tend to affect only our symptoms — things we are consciously aware of, such as pain, itching, rashes, or diarrhea, as well as cognitive function and sleep. Placebo effects also seem to be particularly strong for psychiatric disorders such as depression, anxiety, and addiction.

But what is common to all these approaches, whether placebo pills or encouraging talk, is that more doctors are considering their patients’ mental states. Instead of employing ever-greater doses of drugs and interventions, these medical professionals are harnessing their patients’ psychological resources as a critical component of their care. The symptom relief that patients experience is undeniably real.

This is what seems to make the difference.

We can’t rely solely on the mind to heal us, but denying its role in medicine isn’t the answer either. My hope is that this research helps us overcome some of the prejudice against mind–body approaches to healing, and to recognize that taking account of the mind in health is actually a more scientific and evidence-based approach than relying more heavily on physical interventions and drugs.

Nearly 400 years after the philosopher Descartes declared a fundamental separation between mind and body, we still tend to think of ourselves as rational beings with highly developed minds that allow us to transcend our biological animal nature.

Yet the evidence shows something very different: Our bodies and minds have evolved in exquisite harmony, so perfectly integrated that it is impossible to consider one without the other. By understanding how our minds influence and reflect our physiology, perhaps we can finally live in tune with our bodies and care for them in a way that is based in evidence, and not delusion.

This originally appeared as “The Placebo Effect” in the December 2017 print issue of Experience Life.

Get the full story at https://experiencelife.com/article/the-power-of-the-placebo-effect/

#brain

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