#nurse gail

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Sketch of Eliot after the carnival job with his face badly bruised turning around to see several armed men and nurse gail standing just behind them. End ID]

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Whumptober 2022 Day 20: Ambushed (alternative prompt 5)

Someone paid Nurse Gail to bring the very injured Eliot Spencer to an ambush by many armed guys since, given how many people are probably after him, seems reasonably to expect they would pay good money to capitalise on a moment when he's particularly vulnerable to take him out.

[quordleona03]

Nine lines, nine people

I got tagged b y @youngpettyqueen who was tagged by @thebreakfastgenie so I don't know if there's even anyone left in mashblr to tag.

I've been struggling with the very long BJ section of my Hawkeye/Mulcahy novel, so I'm not posting any of that WIP.

Have a bit of my "Nurse Doctor" story:

Gail was sitting by herself in the mess tent, the first quiet morning of what the nurses had said could be a lull, when the chaplain sat down opposite from her and asked "What are you reading?" Gail told him. He looked pleased. "Are you studying for an exam?" "The college medical aptitude tests," Gail said. She wasn't going to be here long. She had decided she might as well be honest and not worry about who hated her. "I'll be leaving the army in a few months, and I'm going to use my GI benefits to go to college and be a doctor."

She was utterly startled when the chaplain beamed at her. He had a lovely smile. "Oh, that's wonderful," he said, and he seemed to mean it. "Could I help?"

No one had ever had anything like that to Gail before.

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You post nine lines of a WIP (I counted: this was nine lines on the page of the document I'm working on) and tag nine people. Please don't feel obliged to participate if you don't wanna: "No" is a complete sentence. @marley-manson @allcanonisrelative @rescue-ram @topshelf2112-blog @transgayhawkeyepierce @transradar @captainhunnicutt @not-trustworthy @orphanbird95

[mashkara45]

[bigdickevans]

HELLO NURSE

[sameheart-sameblood]

Love in the Time of Cordyceps

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

words: 7.1k

warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies 🙄

a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble

read on ao3!

After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself you’ll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more. 

Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. It’s like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. You’d been doing it just fine these past fifteen years. 

Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raiders’ gun, a few by their own hand. 

The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality can’t save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living. 

Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, they’re finally learning. You wonder what took them so long. 

Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, you’ll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if you’d try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia. 

Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall. 

The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesn’t offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. It’s impressive albeit in a sad kind of way. 

Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. “Fine,” he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, “but if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.” Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the “no love, no attachment” way of life. 

You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep. 

After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied. 

“But what about the cowboy?” you ask. 

“Joel? What about him?”

Your eyebrows arch, “He threatened to shoot me.”

“Only if you were infected. Just don’t get infected.” She says it like you’re discussing the weather. 

Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. You’ve been called worse before. 

The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess you’ll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. “Fuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what I’m fucking doing!.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasn’t the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow. 

After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no “helpful” tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. You’ll never admit that it hurts. You don’t have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. “Couple of fuckin’ babies I’m working with,” she seethes. “If you don’t grow up I’m finding a new crew.”

It’s decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Bill’s. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesn’t argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Bill’s goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. You’re sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course it’s when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree root…But hey, progress is progress.

With the supplies in tow and Frank’s compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them aren’t content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next. 

Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. “Maybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.” Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears. 

You almost don’t hear Joel snarl at them. “You lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket. 

They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think you’re too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee. 

The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only “weapon” you have is the belt you’re wearing, it’s clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences you’ve had, this will be the way you go out. 

A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs. 

Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. “You could have run,” he hisses at you, making you jump. You don’t know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. “Why didn’t you run?” His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface. 

Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, “We’re a team. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you can’t quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, “Next time, you run.”

******

After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant. 

It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynn’s, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the “proper pool stance.”

Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldn’t care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and that’s why he takes a particular interest in making sure you’re safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops. 

******

During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frank’s. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you can’t hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best. 

Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep won’t not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible. 

After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . “Going somewhere?” he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, “Couldn’t sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ve had that room before. Can’t say it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” You lived for these little snippets into Joel’s life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. “I’m just gonna make camp on the couch,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Joel shakes his head. “You take my room. The couch is good enough for me.” This man. Hadn’t anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. “It’s a big bed. We can share.” There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joel’s smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. “Please,” you pout, “I can’t sleep in my room and I won’t get any rest knowing you’re crammed on that dainty little loveseat.”

It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, “Care which side you get?” Joel thinks, then shrugs. “Left is good.” You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, “If you’re gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.” That got him moving again. 

The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. It’s clear he’s trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you. 

“Thought you were asleep,” he murmurs. 

You hum, “I was. You woke me up.” 

It’s meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. “Sorry.”

The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. “It’s ok. It’s your bed.” 

As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. “You mind if I read for a few minutes?” 

That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frank’s is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. “What are you reading?” 

It’s like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, “It’s just…I never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite of…it was a favorite of somebody I knew.”

“You can read out loud to me if you want,” you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. “Not a chance.” 

Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You aren’t attached to Joel. How could you be? He’s just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.

The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool. 

******

The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days don’t seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human. 

Winter in Boston isn’t fun. Ok that’s an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder. 

The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Bill’s or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons. 

Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it  is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, you’d assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you don’t pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do. 

Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths. 

You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard day’s work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.

The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards you’ll proudly gift to Joel and Tess. 

Maybe if you hadn’t been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin. 

A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your group’s insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesn’t matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still don’t get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. It’s fine, you tell yourself, it’s just a scratch. You’ll wash it off when I get home and be good as new. 

With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle. 

It’s only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. “I told you to stay out of the sewers.” 

You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,” you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isn’t one of gratitude, it’s worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, “It’s not worth it if you lose your leg.” And people claim you’re dramatic. 

Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. “I just need a shower. Then I’ll be right as rain.” As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. “I can hear you pacing,” you call over the sound of the warming shower. 

Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. “I just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure you’re alright.” The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, “I’m fine. You worry too much!”

******

It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, it’s not long before you can’t ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you can’t stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But there’s something different when it’s your own blood. 

In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain you’re in. 

You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, “See? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-“ 

Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. “The only thing you’re gonna do tonight is rest.”

You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. “I still have to eat,” you mope. 

“You will. I’ll open a can of soup or something.”

The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. “I just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel like…” Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joel’s softening gaze helps you continue. “I feel like I’m useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.”

The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, “Of course you contribute. We wouldn’t have kept you around if you hadn’t.” It’s meant to make you feel better but it doesn’t, especially in your current laid up state. 

“So are you going to get rid of me if I’m no longer useful?” you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears. 

Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. “First of all, you’re going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, you’re thinking there’s only one kind of way to be useful.”

“I can’t shoot like you two can. I can’t fight. I can’t threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. That’s it. I’m too soft for anything actually important.” 

Joel frowns, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. ‘Being soft’ in a world like this is an act of defiance. It’s brave as hell. What you consider important? I don’t want that for you.”

Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. He’s trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. “Me and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us there’s still innocence and good out there.”

The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re useful just being you.”

While you still wish you matched Joel and Tess’ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that you’ve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years you’ve been fighting and surviving and that’s nothing to look down on. 

“And for what it’s worth, “ he adds, “you scared the hell out of me the first time we met.”

You grin at him, shocked, “Really?”

He nods, smirking cheekily, “Really. Still do sometimes.”

******

Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, it’s not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood. 

It also helps that you’re sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily you’ve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid. 

He catches you staring and breaks the silence, “Were you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadn’t run into you.” The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, “No, I thought I’d let it be a soup-rise.” 

Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, “The extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?” 

He nods, “Yeah. I think it’s soup-er.” His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing. 

After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and you’re left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable. 

Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that you’re fine. But you’re alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning. 

******

You don’t wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. He’ll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasn’t sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you looked…

But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones. 

“We need to get her to a doctor. Now.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, like he’s trying desperately not to lose it. 

Tess still maintains her signature composure. “We can’t, Joel. It’s too late for that.”

Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. “It’s too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all they’ll focus on is her fever. They’ve put people down for way less. You know that.”

In your addled state, you wonder who they’re talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask. 

“The doc will give us the meds. We’ve bribed him before.” 

Tess shakes her head, “Antibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. We’re no good to her dead. ”

Joel scoffs, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“She rides it out.”

“She’s been ‘riding it out’ for two days. Look at her,” Joel’s voice gets closer as he peers down at you, “she’s fighting but she’s losing.”

Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad. 

If you’re dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, they’re your family now and you care about them. If you’re being honest, you’ve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you won’t be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you won’t get the chance to tell Joel you love him…

Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, you’re dying. 

“You’re ok, kid,” she whispers, “you just have to hang in there.” It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But you’ve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants. 

You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. “Maybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I can’t.”Heavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion. 

******

Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someone’s hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as you’re made to come to. 

Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away. 

A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. “It’s alright. It’s only me.” 

Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. It’s more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you weren’t in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel aren’t lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel. 

“What’s happening?” Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least it’s intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair. 

“You got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.” The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract. 

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. We got you some meds, though. You’re gonna be ok.” He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry. 

Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, “Where did you get the antibiotics from?”

Joel hesitates, “Bill and Frank had some.”

You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting. 

“It’s done. No use getting angry about it now.”

You glare up at him even though you’re really just upset with yourself. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. “We’re a team, remember?”

It’s too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain. 

Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldn’t be something you feel the need to earn. But you’re all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christ’s sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.

After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene you’ve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. There’s still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back. 

Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. “Thank you,”is all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, “I would do the same for you. You know that, right?”

Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself you’re still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionate“I know, honey. I know.”

******

After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still won’t let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though you’ve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, you’re quickly getting bored with bed rest. But you’ve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut. 

Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird. It’s one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow. 

After a few minutes, sleep still won’t come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.” He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child. 

You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, “But I’m just not tired.” Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. “Your body’s been through a lot. You need rest.”

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. “Sorry I just thought I’d sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.” 

“No!” you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, “I want you to stay but you’re not sleeping in that chair one more night.”

Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “If I stay will you promise to go to sleep?”

You nod very seriously. “Of course.”

Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. “Liar,” he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. It’s cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed. 

You can’t help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. “If you’re not tired you could read to me.” Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, “I did almost die, you know.” He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle. 

Frowning, you reach out to touch Joel’s arm. “Do you mind starting from the beginning?” He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…” 

His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but  pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that can’t keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table. 

You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. “We can keep reading tomorrow. But right now you’re going to sleep.” Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation. 

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers. 

You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,“I won’t. I mean it.”

Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. He’s watched over you for long enough. It’s your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe. 

For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, ’I love yous’ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds. 

You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, you’ve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know you’ll long to say the words to him soon, for now it’s enough to have him in your arms. 

Joel’s breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see. 

Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But it’s a price you’re willing to pay a thousand times over. 

******

[martiandmichelle]

Here's a photo of Marti chatting with a few of us during a short break in a photo shoot.

Hey, it's Roxy, Marti's VERY FORTUNATE wife, with an update on Marti's health. She's a bit better today than yesterday but still is not up to going back to the studio yet. She's getting round-the-clock care from Gina (a nurse practitioner and someone who's known Marti for some 40 years), Michelle (her daughter-in-law), her personal assistant Kaatje, Gail (our dietician who totes around the second largest set of boobs [M cups] of all of us ladies) and, of course, me. The general manager at the studio, Dana, doesn't want Mart back in the studio until she's 99% better.

Whatever this stuff is Marti has, it has spread to one of our other models - Mandy. Mandy's but 29 and better able to fight off this mess. Marti, at 73, is more susceptible to complications even though she has the boy of someone 30 years younger. We'll keep you posted!

[reality-detective]

Courageous San Francisco nurse Gail McCrae has tales to tell about the shocking 3 fold increase in hospitalisations/deaths she witnessed directly associated with the vaccine rollout.

Staff were warned not to report on adverse events and unfortunately most complied.

Gail was fired from her job and taken out of her graduation program for speaking out.

Her story deserves to be heard!!! 🤔

[kwebtv]

 TV Guide -  February 29 - March 6, 1964

Shirl Conway (born Shirley Elizabeth Crosman, June 13, 1916 – May 7, 2007)  Television and Broadway actress.

She played the role of Liz Thorpe in the CBS drama The Nurses (which ran from 1962 to 1965) for which she was nominated for an Emmy award in 1963 for Outstanding Continued Performance by an Actress in a Series. Other TV credits include Route 66, The Defenders, and Caesar's Hour.  (Wikipedia)

Zina Bianca Bethune (February 17, 1945 – February 12, 2012)  Actress, dancer, and choreographer known for playing "Miss Tuttle" on Father Murphy and "Abigail" on General Hospital

As a child performer, Bethune appeared in several American daytime television dramas, including a stint as the first "Robin Lang" on The Guiding Light from May 1956 to April 1958. 

In October 1958, she portrayed Amy March in the CBS musical adaptation of Little Women. She portrayed nurse Gail Lucas on The Nurses (1962–65), and appeared in other series, including Kraft Television Theatre (with Martin Huston in the series finale), Route 66, The Judy Garland Show, Pantomime Quiz, Hollywood Squares, Young Dr. Malone, Dr. Kildare, Gunsmoke, The Invaders, and Emergency!  (Wikipedia)

[letters2fiction]

Welcome to Letters2fiction!

The concept here is to send in a question or a letter request, and you’ll get a response from your fictional character of choice, from the list below. Please stick to the list I’ve made, but of course, you can ask if there’s some other characters I write for, I don’t always remember all the shows, movies or books I’ve consumed over the years and I’m sure I’m missing a lot 😅

Status: New Characters added - Thursday March 21st, 2024

TV SERIES

A Discovery of Witches:

Matthew Clairmont

Baldwin Montclair

Gallowglass de Clermont

Marcus Whitmore

Philippe de Clermont

Jack Blackfriars

Sarah Bishop

Emily Mather

Diana Bishop

Ysabeau de Clermont

Miriam Shepard

Phoebe Taylor

Gerbert D’Aurillac

Peter Knox

Father Andrew Hubbard

Benjamin Fuchs

Satu Järvinen

Meridiana

Law and Order:

Rafael Barba

Sonny Carisi

Joe Velasco

Mike Duarte

Terry Bruno

Peter Stone

Hasim Khaldun

Nick Amaro NEW!

Mike Dodds

Grace Muncy

Kat Tamin

Toni Churlish

Amanda Rollins

Olivia Benson

Rita Calhoun

Casey Novak

Melinda Warner

George Huang

Sam Maroun

Nolan Price

Jamie Whelan

Bobby Reyes

Jet Slootmaekers

Ayanna Bell

Jack McCoy

Elliot Stabler

One Chicago:

Jay Halstead (Could also be Will if you want)

Antonio Dawson

Adam Ruzek

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz

Dante Torres

Vanessa Rojas

Kevin Atwater

Sean Roman

Matt Casey

Kelly Severide

Joe Cruz

Sylvie Brett

Blake Gallo

Christopher Hermann

"Mouch"

Otis

Violet Mikami

Evan Hawkins

Mayans MC:

Angel Reyes

Miguel

Bishop

Coco

Nestor

911 verse:

Athena Grant

Bobby Nash

Henrietta "Hen" Wilson

Evan "Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Howie "Chimney" Han

Ravi Panikkar

T.K. Strand

Owen Strand

Carlos Reyes

Marjan Marwani

Paul Strickland

Tommy Vega

Judson "Judd" Ryder

Grace Ryder

Nancy Gillian

Mateo Chavez

The Rookie:

Lucy Chen

Tim Bradford

Celina Juarez

Aaron Thorsen

Nyla Harper

Angela Lopez

Wesley Evers

BBC Sherlock:

Greg Lestrade

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Moriarty

Molly

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Simon Basset

Daphne Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Kate Sharma

Edwina Sharma

Marina Thompson/Crane

Outlander:

Jamie Fraser

Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser

Frank Randall

Black Jack Randall

Brianna Fraser

Roger MacKenzie

Fergus Fraser

Marsali Fraser

Jenny Fraser Murray

Ian Murray Sr.

Ian Fraser Murray

Murtagh Mackenzie

Call The Midwife:

Shelagh Turner / Sister Bernadette

Dr. Patrick Turner

Nurse Trixie Franklin

Nurse Phyllis Crane

Lucille Anderson

Nurse Barbara Gilbert

Chummy

Sister Hilda

Miss Higgins

PC Peter Noakes

Reverend Tom Hereward NEW!

Narcos:

Horacio Carrillo

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby

Downton Abbey:

Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham

Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham

Lady Mary Crawley

Lady Edith Crawley

Lady Sybil Crawley

Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham

Isobel Crawley

Matthew Crawley

Lady Rose MacClare

Lady Rosamund Painswick

Henry Talbot

Tom Branson

Mr. Charles Carson

Mrs. Hughes / Elsie May Carson

John Bates

Anna Bates

Daisy Mason

Thomas Barrow

Joseph Molesley

Land Girl:

Connie Carter

Reverend Henry Jameson (Gwilym Lee's version)

Midsomer Murder:

DCI Tom Barnaby

Joyce Barnaby

Dr. George Bullard

DCI John Barnaby

Sarah Barnaby

DS Ben Jones

DS Jamie Winter

Sgt. Gavin Troy

Fleur Perkins

WPC Gail Stephens

Kate Wilding

DS Charlie Nelson

Sergeant Dan Scott

NEW! Once Upon A Time

Regina / The Evil Queen

Mary Margaret Blanchard / Snow White

David Nolan / Prince Charming

Emma Swan

Killian Jones / Captain Hook

Mr. Gold / Rumplestiltskin

Neal Cassidy / Baelfire

Peter Pan

Sheriff Graham Humbert / The Huntsman

Jefferson / The Mad Hatter

Belle

Robin of Locksley / Robin Hood

Will Scarlet

Zelena / Wicked Witch

Alice (Once in Wonderland)

Cyrus (Once in Wonderland)

Jafar (Once in Wonderland)

Gideon

Tiger Lily

Naveen

Tiana

Granny

Ariel

Prince Eric

Aladdin

Jasmine

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Hercules

Megara

Tinker Bell

Merida

Red Riding Hood

Mulan

Aurora / Sleeping Beauty

Prince Phillip

Cinderella

Prince Thomas

NEW! The Vampire Diaries / The Originals

Stefan Salvatore

Damon Salvatore

Caroline Forbes

Elena Gilbert

Bonnie Bennett

Enzo St. John

Niklaus Mikaelson

Elijah Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Freya Mikaelson

Finn Mikaelson

Mikael

Esther

Marcel Gerard

Davina Claire

MOVIES

The Pirates of the Caribbean:

Captain Jack Sparrow

Barbossa

Will Turner

Elizabeth Swann

James Norrington

Kingsman:

Merlin

Harry Hart

Eggsy Unwin

James Spencer / Lancelot

Alastair / Percival

Roxy Morton / Lancelot

Maximillian Morton / The Shepherd

Orlando Oxford

Jack Daniels / Whiskey

Gin

BOOKS

Dreamland Billionaire series - Lauren Asher:

Declan

Callahan

Rowan

Iris

Alana

Zahra

Dirty Air series - Lauren Asher:

Noah

Liam

Jax

Santiago

Maya

Sophie

Elena

Chloe

Ladies in Stem - Ali Hazelwood books:

Olive

Adam

Bee

Levi

Elsie

Jack

Mara

Liam

Sadie

Erik

Hannah

Ian

Fourth Wing - Rebecca Yarros:

Xaden Riorson

Dain Aetos

Jack Barlowe

Rhiannan Matthias

Violet Sorrengail

Mira Sorrengail

Lillith Sorrengail

Bodhi Durran

Liam Mairi

[onboardsorasora]

Idea for the Tennis AU - Max is working out, don't care how, but he's in the short shorts that Daniel tends to favor. Daniel isn't paying attention and falls/trips and hurts himself (minor, just a scrape)! but then ensues the nursing/caring for each other.

(and no this didn't come to be based on a RWRB fic I read about Alex lusting after Henry's thighs)

Hello Gail my beloved<3 I'm always here for the thigh lust!!! I hope this doesn't suck lol gonna use the banner cause I haven't in a while lol

Part 1 | Part 33

Daniel didn’t know how it happened. One minute he was walking through the small gym, sweaty from his run in the sun. And then the next he was flat on his back staring up at the warehouse style roof. 

“Are you ok?” Max asked, coming to stand over him and Daniel got an eye full of the thick bulging muscles of his boyfriend’s thighs. 

Oh right. Max had been doing bulgarian split squats in his (Daniel’s) tiny shorts. And well, the bench came out of nowhere, didn’t it?

“Uh yeah.” Daniel breathed, pulling his gaze slowly from Max’s insane legs up his equally insane body and to his beautiful face. Max was too busy looking at Daniel’s knees that were still resting on the bench that he’d tripped over.

“You scraped yourself up on the rack. Lemme get a towel, maybe.” Max muttered.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Daniel turned his head to watch Max as he walked away, loving the way the shorts emphasized his ass. Max came back with a bottle of water and a towel, face scrunching in a smile to find Daniel exactly where he left him with a dopy look on his face.

“You hurt yourself checking me out, didn’t you?” Max teased, lifting Daniel to sit on the bench instead.

“I just think that you should do your squats over me, maybe” Daniel pointed out.

“And how will that help with your training?” Max snorted, Daniel smirked because he hadn’t said no.

“I think my tongue deserves a little workout too–”

“Jesus H Christ you guys promised!” Blakes exasperated voice cut through whatever bargain Daniel was striking. The pair ducked their heads like boys caught talking during a lecture, they snorted their shared mirth before Daniel kissed Max’s jaw. A promise for after.

[quordleona03]

🌧 and 🌈 for the wip ask game, please!

This was such a struggle, not because there is NO fluff in my WIPs, but because so much of the fluff is serving as plot glue and would constitute a spoiler! But this from my WIP "Nurse Doctor" isn't really a spoiler if you've already seen the episode:

Gail was sitting by herself in the mess tent, the first quiet morning of what the nurses had said could be a lull, when the chaplain sat down opposite from her and asked "What are you reading?" Gail told him. He looked pleased. "Are you studying for an exam?" "The college medical aptitude tests," Gail said. She wasn't going to be here long. She had decided she might as well be honest and not worry about who hated her. "I'll be leaving the army in a few months, and I'm going to use my GI benefits to go to college and be a doctor." She was utterly startled when the chaplain beamed at her. He had a lovely smile. "Oh, that's wonderful," he said, and he seemed to mean it. "Could I help?"

Also, you asked for angst, do I have any angst here:

"I know this is going to sound horrible,"[Magaret] said matter-of-factly, "but we'd all got used to it. We had a routine. This was after we'd gone on a bus trip July fourth, to the beach, for a party, and that was why we got the 8063rd's casualties July fifth - they'd taken ours the previous day. On the way back we picked up a couple of wounded soldiers, and some refugees - families with kids. There were Chinese patrols in the area, and it was safer for them on the bus. Only when we got back to the 4077th, we found one of the refugees had a dead baby she was still cradling. That happened so often, and we had a routine. I gave her a sedative and put her to bed in post-op, and Klinger got on the scrounge for a box we could use for a coffin because all the ones we had were too - "Margaret's voice cracked for the first time. "Too large - and Father Mulcahy took her older children to the mess tent and made sure they got a hot meal and then brought them back to post-op and tucked all of them into the bed next to her, and in the morning he checked out a jeep and drove her and her kids and the baby over to the local orphanage. Because the Sister who ran it knew where to find a Buddhist priest."

[royalboybun]

pirates!!!! (all except Bayonet belong to @kougracrusader!!!)

bonus relationship chart under the cut, and more information!! (and if you're curious about any of these guys, feel free to send an ask- they all have more story/development but I didn't want to just infodump!!!!)

some notes/fun facts:

-Bay stole his ship from the Meridellian navy after becoming very disillusioned with the military; he was third in command of the ship and his captain was extremely corrupt, and he hated it. So when the perfect opportunity arose, he stole the ship (with the help of Sabre) and never looked back!

-Weller was in the navy with Bay, which is how they know each other and why they trust one another so much

-Tor is short for Traitor; he got that nickname when he was brutally forced out of Maraqua. Maverick fished him up accidentally and enlisted the help of Bones to secretly nurse Tor back to health, because he was nearly killed when he was exiled! Tor is the newest member of the crew; Bay decided Tor should make himself useful if he was gonna stick around. He scouts around the ship from underwater and seeks out treasure and/or possible threats from below.

-Yes Bones is named that because Ren and I are trekkies!!!!

-Sabre's Draik egg DOES eventually hatch and they name it Dagger :) baby on board!!

-Gail is actually a great cook! But Weller doesn't let him go crazy with ingredients/rations unless Bay gives advance permission, so Gail usually makes... what can only be described as slops. He likes to make weird food for fun!

-Maverick is the youngest member of the crew, at only 19! He actually was interested in astronomy before Bay recruited him, and his knowledge of the stars makes him an even better navigator.

-Weller and Bones would never actually mention that they're friends, but if you asked each of them individually which crew member they get along the best with, they would name each other.

-Gail pisses everyone off because he loves to instigate! But he and Sabre actually get along pretty well as troublemaking buddies.

-Bay trusts Sabre with his life. He respects Sabre So Much!!! And on the other side of the coin, Bay is Sabre's whole world. They wuv each other 💙

-Bones is someone who keeps secrets to his grave; you can tell him anything!

-Weller tends to keep to himself and takes his work seriously; you'll frequently find him holed up below the decks, counting and recounting and note taking and recordkeeping. He's really stoic and doesn't emote much. Good luck appealing to his emotional side if you need to ask him for extra toilet paper.

-Bay is actually wearing the eyepatch because he is missing one eye, rather than as an accessory. The same scuffle cost him his eye and one of his ears. He now keeps something very, very precious to him in the space where his eye used to be, and the crew knows better than to try to get a look at it or take it.

[autisticwriterblog]

Fandom 50 Post 10

My ninth piece of Alan Wake 2 meta. This one is about Return 5.

Return 5: Old Gods

What happened in this chapter?

Even after the FBC takes Alan into custody, Saga won’t give up on the case. She makes her way to the Valhalla Nursing Home on foot, receiving a phone call from Tor partway. Things sound chaotic on the other end of the line, and the call cuts off before Saga can work out what is going on.

When she reaches the nursing home, Rose opens the door. She tries to make Saga leave, telling her that Tor and Odin can’t have visitors, but Saga persists, eventually being allowed inside to talk to the other residents. When she talks to Mandy-May and Norman, Saga learns that Tor is injured. Rose insists that it’s nothing serious, but Saga isn’t convinced.

Heading upstairs, she finds Tor’s bedroom trashed and her grandfather nowhere to be seen. Next door, she finds Odin confined to his bed, unable to talk to her. So, Saga gets the idea to profile him. But when she profiles Odin, something strange happens in her Mind Place, allowing them to have a real conversation within her mind. It turns out that her Mind Place is more that just a memory technique, and is further proof that she is really related to the Anderson brothers. Odin points her in the direction of the Wellness Center to look for Tor, so Saga tells Rose to let her into the building. Rose does so reluctantly, but also warns Saga about hurting herself in the dark.

The Wellness Center is dark and deserted, and Saga finds Tor’s bed empty. Along with his discarded, bloody bandages, Saga finds a note mentioning that Tor has been more aggressive. She continues through the building and finds him in the Rehabilitation room, but he goes through a door with an electronic lock which stops Saga following him. This forces Saga to locate the Security Room to unlock the door.

Using clues left around the room, Saga manages to work out Vladimir Blum’s password and get into his computer, where she unlocks the electronic doors and finds a recording of Tor acting erratically. She also learns that Blum is a member of the Cult of the Tree. Saga then returns to the Rehabilitation room, where she encounters a new type of Taken: a Taken Diver. This Taken used to be Gail, another resident who Rose locked inside the Wellness Center along with Tor.

After she takes down Gail, Saga finds her way back outside, where she finds Tor wading into the pond as Rose begs him not to. The pond is revealed to be an Overlap, and Tor vanishes. After this, Saga talks to Rose, but she just denies everything Saga saw. So, she profiles Rose, learning that Rose has been doing things to help Saga because she believes Alan is sending her messages to help the ‘hero’ of the story. Once Saga reveals herself to be said hero, Rose’s attitude changes instantly, and she tells Saga all she needs to know about what is going on.

She talks to Odin in her Mind Place and learns that an Old Gods of Asgard record is the key needed to open the Overlap—a song called Anger’s Remorse, which was written by Tor as an apology to Freya and only has one copy in existence. Rose gives Saga her key fob, allowing Saga to unlock the Old Gods museum on the second floor. But when Saga enters the room, she finds the record missing, stolen by Cynthia Weaver. Profiling Cynthia reveals the record is in her bathtub, the place she drowned, but just before Saga can unlock her bedroom door, the power goes out.

This forces Saga to venture into the basement to fit a new fuse. Once the power is finally back on, Saga returns to Cynthia’s room, unlocking the door this time. Burning away the darkness, she finds the record in the bathroom, finally allowing her to retrieve it.

Returning downstairs, Saga puts the record into the jukebox, allowing the Overlap to open as Odin Anderson’s voice blares Tor’s tragic lyrics. When she enters the Overlap, Saga finds herself in a flooded bunker, where she once again hears Logan crying for help. As she travels through the looping environment, she again sees visions of Alan, although she can’t work out much of what he says.

Eventually, Saga hears Tor’s voice, but before she can find him, she encounters Cynthia’s Taken form. First, Saga needs to turn on a generator, but lingering in the water for too long will get her attacked, forcing her to rush across the water to safe spots before Cynthia can attack her. Once she gets the generator on, Saga progresses further, and ends up having a boss fight against Cynthia, who uses water to attack, forcing Saga to dodge the powerful attacks.

Once Cynthia is dead, after yet another one-sided conversation with Alan, Saga finds herself back out in the yard outside Valhalla Nursing Home. Tor is nearby, retching and swearing, but very much alive and safe. Saga has many questions for him, and Tor promises to give her answers.

My Thoughts

Along with We Sing, this is my favourite chapter in the game. I adore all the characters from the Valhalla Nursing Home and the story of this chapter so much. I will never get over how much fun I have when I replay this section of Alan Wake 2. Despite being a horror game, this chapter has several moments that make me laugh, such as Rose’s apparent aversion to swearing, Rose’s horror when she walks into the living room to see Norman in nothing but a towel, and Rose’s conversation with Ahti where we learn Ahti steals Blum’s overalls and insists on mopping even though he’s a resident and not a janitor here.

Exploring the nursing home is so fun, because it’s crammed full of little details. For example, in Norman’s bedroom, you can find pun books, whilst Donna will tell Saga off for walking in without knocking. Rose’s office has a shrine to Alan, including the cutout from the first game (which Barry spent most of a chapter annoying Alan with), whilst a sign on the wall in the hallway talks about Barry Wheeler and how he founded the nursing home. And the Old Gods museum has some lovely photos of the band in their prime, plus a sad newspaper clipping about how hard Odin and Tor were hit by ‘Fat’ Bob’s death. Another nice detail in the nursing home is if you try to open the door with a spiral symbol on the top floor, Ahti will spawn right behind you to warn you not to go in there. It really made me jump, because the last place I saw him was next to the jukebox and I didn’t expect him to do that.

This chapter also has, in my opinion, some of the best jumpscares. No other Taken made me jump so reliably as Cynthia, especially when exploring the basement and the Wellness Center. And the first time I got the jumpscare when you approach her by the window, I nearly screamed out loud. The trip through the Wellness Center is terrifying, especially when you meet the first Taken Diver, which are horrifying to look at. And the basement is an amazing exercise in dramatic tension, because I was convinced I would get attacked down there, but no Taken ever appear. All you get is Cynthia’s jumpscares and the terrifying ambiance.

Cynthia’s fate is sad, because if you played the first game, you know how much she did to protect the town and for how long she fought the darkness. But after Rose took her lamp and she got forgetful about changing the lightbulbs in her room, the Dark Presence took advantage of her vulnerability and drowned Cynthia in her bathtub, turning her into a Taken and using her to corrupt Tor.

After the power goes out, the residents all relocate to the porch. I completely missed this on my first playthrough, which made me worry something had happened to them. But, no, they’re all safe in the pocket of light on the porch, and talking to them reveals that Ahti brought them all here. Ahti stays inside the building in the dark, but he doesn’t seem to be in any danger from the Taken—which makes perfect sense considering that in Control, he was the only person (other than Jesse) who didn’t wear an HRA and yet somehow didn’t get corrupted by the Hiss. Obviously, Ahti is too powerful to be in danger, unlike the other residents, who he takes to safety.

Out of all the Old Gods music in Alan Wake 2, I think Anger’s Remorse is my favourite. The vocals are so powerful and the lyrics tell a tragic story about regret and hurt. Using this song to open the Overlap is such an awesome moment, and I love listening to the entire song at the end of the chapter.

I’ve played this game three times now (two normal playthroughs and one Final Draft playthrough), but I always get lost in the Overlap. It’s the only Overlap that truly gets me walking in circles, which can be a little frustrating, but I still love the creepy atmosphere of the flooded bunker.

Saga’s interactions with Tor and Odin are really sweet, because these old men clearly adore her even though they haven’t seen her since she was a baby, and Saga grows to genuinely care for the family she never knew she had. Her protectiveness toward Tor once he ends up in the Overlap is lovely. Saga never stops worrying about Logan, but she also finds time to worry about the relatives she only just met.

[martiandmichelle]

Is there a profile anywhere to match my Marti's? It seems to defy gravity that she can stand up straight!

Hey guys, it's Roxy. Those of us ladies who appear here on tumblr with Marti took a vote as to who should tell the stories we need to tell to bring you, our beloved readers and followers, up to date on what's going on both at Marchelle (our home estate) and at Studio M - our adult studio. It was almost a unanimous vote with only one dissent; I was the dissenting vote while everyone else voted for me. So I'll make a small start here and can hopefully finish it all next week since the studio is closed. Most of what I'll write will be in the past - some near, some far - but I'll start in the present, with, what else THE TITS.

I suspect all you Marti aficionados have already noticed from the photo that THE TITS are growing again - and quickly! But that's how it's usually been with Marti: several months of little to no boob growth followed by a short but rapid and intense growth. She's in that intense phase right now, and though she only recently graduated to a T cup at the rate she's growing she'll be a U cup sometime this winter. Fucking amazing!!!

Of course, at her size now, we all worry about whether the rest of her body and especially her back, shoulders and neck can continue to support her massive hooters. She says she has no pain whatsoever aside from some minor pain from her tits as they grow so quickly. She has a group of doctors, therapists (that would be Dana), a live-in nurse (Gina), a nutritionist (Gail), and a trainer working with her and monitoring her at least once a month. They all say she is perfectly healthy and truly seems to bear the weight of her breasts with no difficulty - well, except that the sometimes get in the way of everyday activities, like putting on her shoes.

As we said here earlier, Marti lost some 12 pounds during her sickness and yet her boobs actually grew! She's determined to keep the weight off and plans to get back to her rigorous work-outs after Christmas.

I'll try to write more later today, but in case I don't: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

[lakecountylibrary]

Book Review: The Darkness Surrounds Us by Gail Lukasik

Chicago, 1918: Nellie Lester flees her home in the city to be a nurse on a remote Michigan island for a wealthy lumber baron's pregnant wife. She is haunted by her mother's past and her own demons.

Nellie has more than the Spanish flu motivating her to leave Chicago. This gothic murder-mystery with a touch of romance will keep you guessing! Perfect for a cold, dark night, this novel takes place during a typical Midwest winter. I found it to have an interesting premise, although it was a little slow in sections.

Will Nellie make peace with her demons and solve the island's secrets, before the lake freezes over? Reserve your copy today to find out!

See more of Brenna's recs

Check out The Darkness Surrounds Us

[goldenponcho]

You Can Lead a Castellan to Water…

So sorry this took so long!

Chapter 9: Coils

Ramon placed his glass carefully upon the table. He willed himself to appear reserved, while inside bursting with curiosity.

“A…cah-dough?”

Gail inhaled in preparation for a lot of explaining. “Believe it or not, yours isn’t the FIRST parasite worshiping village I’ve been forced into assimilation with.”

He squinted, a moment passing to process, “Then you mean to tell me that the reason that the plaga could not make residence within YOU is because you are heretofore…occupied?”

“Pretty much,” she leaned forward to rest her arms on the table, “They’re surgically implanted at full size. Wherever there’s room for it.” She traced a finger from the center of her ribcage and down over the left side of her stomach along the scar that was hidden beneath her bodice, “I’d imagine a tiny little egg wouldn’t be much of a match for a fully realized cadou if it decided it wasn’t up for sharing a host. It fuses with its host so completely it alters its DNA. Under a microscope, I wouldn’t even look human anymore.”

“I see…and Lord Saddler took advantage of the opportunity to attempt merging both parasites within one body,” Ramon shifted back in his chair, “Ingenious.”

“The only thing I’m still stumped on is how he knew I even existed.” Her fingers slid over the condensation on her glass, “My own family doesn’t even know what I am. Other than eight…maybe nine people from the village, no one knows.”

“And what would stop one of them from opening their mouths?”

“Their hearts being ripped out, for one,” she tapped her glass, “If they had found me, I’d have been taken back to the village. Probably to be killed, tortured, or experimented on, so this is preferable.”

Ramon nursed his wine in thought before narrowed eyes questioned her again, “However…that does not explain your curious ability to sense Lord Saddler as if you were one of us.”

“Oh, I’ve been able to sense EVERYONE’S plaga since then,” Gail picked up her glass with a flippant shrug, and Ramon gave a perturbed leer. “Yours and Saddler’s are easy to recognize. I can even tell Pesanta and Isidro’s apart now.”

Ramon released something between an exhale and a growl, “Well, isn’t that a convenient development… That, yet again, you have seen fit to keep me in the dark about. Care to enlighten how this occurred?”

A toothy grin answered his irritation, “Just one plaga injected into someone with DNA as unstable as mine was bound to cause side effects. Ya’ll tried it five times.” She sipped her drink. “The other cadou carriers were all different. The outcome depends on a lot of things: the carrier, their living space, things they’re exposed to. It gets complicated. YOU’VE seen how spontaneous evolution works… MESSY!”

“Spontaneous evolution?” Ramon’s brow twitched with realization, “Then, are those in possession of a cadou also capable of…an ascension, of sorts.”

Gail tilted her head, “Ascension?”

“An ultimate transformation. It can be induced in the lower among the plagas through the divine chantings of a Crimson Priest. It is the sacred rite and eventual fate of every follower from the lowest commoner to Lord Saddler himself.”

“You talkin’ about the exploding head guys back at the lab?” She leaned forward with a look of clear disgust, “THAT’S what you’ve got to look forward to?!”

Ramon gave a disparaging chuckled, “A divine being is not beholden to the fears or…aesthetic preferences of mortals. But trust that MY ascension will be greater than some lowly Ganado experiment from the lab.”

Gail’s brow was high on her forehead, and she pursed her lips with wide eyes behind her glass, “Congrats, I guess… Suppose I should be grateful a cadou transformation isn’t permanent.”

“Then you are capable of reverting forms at will?”

She gave a sarcastic breath of laughter, “Me PERSONALLY? I have no idea if I can even do it the FIRST time. I never got that far, and I think I’d rather not try to if I can help it.”

Ramon steepled his fingers, brow knitting in silence for a moment before his gaze darted back to her, “This…other religious community. Where is it? How did you come by it?”

“Middle-of-nowhere, Romania. Woulda been a couple hundred miles from Brașov, probably; it doesn’t have a name. Spent about seven years of my life there. Seven FORMATIVE years, unfortunately. I was five when my parents and I went hiking and must have veered off on the wrong trail, so I don’t remember much. All I DO remember is that we were chased. By lycans, I’m sure.”

“Lycans?” Ramon gave her a look of disbelief, “As in lycanthropy?”

“That’s what they called the ones whose psyche couldn’t quite endure the procedure. Sort of a more feral version of your Ganados. It’s DEFINITELY a fitting name, trust me.” She was now sitting sideways at the table, the arm with her glass resting next her plate. “Whatever happened in those first few hours must have been traumatic enough for my brain to block out. Suffice to say, my parents didn’t make it, and I was found and taken in by someone in the village. My first clear memory would have been weeks later after the procedure when I was tested for the first time. But like I said, she was never able to induce a transformation.”

“She?”

“Miranda.” She glanced toward him as she tapped the edge of her glass, and even as subtle as the twitch in her features was, Ramon sensed her EMENCE hatred in that name. “They called her “Mother” Miranda. Worshipped her, prayed to her… Like a god…or some kind of holy messenger, I guess. You’re familiar with the narrative.”

Ramon shifted in his seat, “And this Mother Miranda is the lead carrier of the cadou?”

“Not exactly. Her abilities come from the megamycete. The Black God, she called it, a fungal colony with roots that stretch throughout the entire village. The cadous are pieces taken from it and altered. It’s a whole process.”

Ramon stared at his long abandoned plate. Could there be another organism capable of the same power as the plaga? He had never questioned his belief that something with that kind of power must come from a god. Could it, perhaps, all be a part of the same divine plan?

But if that were the case, why would Lord Saddler have decided on killing Gail? Under those circumstances, would Gail not have been saved already? Lord Saddler knew all that Gail had just told him, didn’t he? He had to. Could this other organism, then…be a threat? A Lucifer to Los Illuminados’ Michael?

“I can tell you more if you’ve got questions.” He just barely registered what Gail was saying as his brain was racked for answers. “For now, I wouldn’t mind taking a walk in the garden,” she stretched her arms behind her head with a yawn, “It would be good to get acquainted with the puppies so they don’t bite me again.”

After a period of silence, Ramon’s stare finally focused on her, and he nodded, interrupted by a yawn of his own, “Of course…perhaps a stroll in the garden would serve us well.”

He waved to his Verdugos to accompany them as he stood, hoping to seem unfazed, but now overflowing with more questions. Questions that he knew would be much harder to answer as Gail wouldn’t have them.

Lord Saddler would know. He knew of this other supernatural organism. Yes. He would have the answers.

He let this comfort him before realizing that in his haze, they had already come through his room and were now on the veranda above the courtyard.

Gail inhaled the fresh air as they descended the steps to the grassy terrain below. “God, I love summer nights!” She looked to the sky, “Fewer and fewer places you can still see the stars like this.”

Ramon followed her gaze, allowing himself reprieve from his stressful thoughts to admire the night sky as well. “Venus is bright tonight.”

“Huh?” She glanced around to find what he was seeing, “Where?”

“There,” he pointed, “The brightest one.”

He was acutely aware of her closeness as she leaned closer to follow her gaze up his arm to where he pointed. “That’s Venus?! Holy shit! I always thought the North Star was suppose to be the brightest. Polaris?”

“Polaris is the LARGEST star in the sky. Sirius is the brightest STAR, but Venus is the brightest celestial body other than the moon.”

“And you said you weren’t as scientifically minded as me. You’re schooling me in astronomy!”

He adjusted his hat, “Isidro was quite knowledgeable about the night sky. I learned a lot from him.”

“No kiddin’?!” Gail slipped her hands into her coat pockets as they continued into a corridor formed by two hedges. The air was rather chill for a summer night. “Was Isidro an astronomer?”

“He was a man of science. Though, he began as a lowly manservant, my grandmother noticed his competence in MANY things and appointed him the castle butler. He was one of very few who cared much at all for me…perhaps through pity…but after the passing of my grandmother, it became apparent that his loyalties lied with me as opposed to my father. I had long recognized his proclivity for knowledge of the natural world, and after ridding the castellany of my father, I made him my researcher.”

“Hm!” She shrugged, “Guess it goes to show talent can come from anywhere. Ya know…almost everything I know about engineering, I learned from-“

Gail jumped at the loud howl that emanated from the corner just ahead. That howl was joined by several others around them in various parts of the garden labyrinth.

“Don’t worry,” Ramon smiled, “They’re merely saying hello.”

She gave a light chuckle before the nearest wolf rounded the corner ahead of them, tail wagging and trotting up happily. The mannerisms clashed strangely with the absurdly massive teeth that created an overbite and couldn’t even BEGIN to be covered by its upper lip.

“Arturo!” Ramon knelt, and the large canine was at right about eye level with him.

Gail grinned as Arturo greeted his little master, Ramon’s fingers buried in the magnificent beast’s mane. He laughed as it lapped at his cheek with a freakishly long tongue. She heard rustling from behind her as another wolf came bounding toward them, ignoring her, and joining the other to greet Ramon.

“Azùcar! ¡Hola mis queridos!” His hat fell to the ground as he buried his face in fur, arms hugging the necks of the two animals.

Ramon finally turned to Gail, beckoning with a hand, “Come! They are quite docile when I am here.”

She sat on her knees next to him, slightly taller then the massive creatures, but they appeared no less intimidating. “Those are SOME chompers! I’m lucky I didn’t get a chunk taken out of my calf!” She chuckled, cautiously giving Azùcar’s head a scratch, “Not that I couldn’t have grown it back, but I’d’a been out of commission for a good while longer.”

“They’re incredible creatures!” Ramon scratched Arturo’s fluffy cheeks, “They’ve been some of my closest comrades since I was a boy,” he turned to Gail, “I suppose misunderstood creatures recognize each other.”

She smiled warmly, “They often do.”

He caught her gaze and felt his face grow hot. In these past days, he had come to the begrudging conclusion that he was undeniably and irrevocably attracted to her. He had even allowed himself in more than one moment of weakness to consider a future attempt at courting her. But he was good at burying such feelings, and that’s what he did. Even if by some miracle she reciprocated, it would only serve to complicate things. Lord Saddler had barely let him keep her; he certainly wouldn’t approve of such a relationship with an outsider.

“I have snakes at home.”

Ramon was shaken again from his nagging thoughts. “Ah. So you weren’t lying when you said you liked snakes.”

“I would never lie about snakes,” she mocked seriousness, “You’ve seen my tattoo. That’s my carpet python, Beans. I’ve had him since I left mom and dad’s. Mom would never let me have one as a kid. She HATES snakes.”

Ramon stood and led them around the next corner, the wolves running ahead of them, “I’ve had a fascination with animals of all kinds since before I can remember. Once when I was young, I hid a collection of toads in my chamberpot.”

Gail erupted in laughter, “Oh my GOD! I hope you didn’t forget and try to use it!”

“Oh, Pesanta found them LONG before that could happen. She was quite cross with me…” The smirk on his face made it clear that he was not at all sorry.

“I used to catch all kinds of little animals too. I’d bring them in, keep em in a little box for a bit… But, I learned pretty quickly it was best to let them go.”

Ramon’s fingers clenched loosely in Arturo’s fur, who had circled back to walk next to him. Gail noticed the troubled look cross his features again, and after waiting several seconds, she had just opened her mouth to say something when Ramon finally spoke.

“You should retire for the night. It has been a long day, and I do have business to tend to.”

Gail’s brow twitched slightly at the sudden change in tone, but she didn’t argue. “Okay…” she nodded, “I guess I’ll, uh…I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Ramon felt a pang of guilt for sounding so dismissive, and he looked to her with a gentle smile, “Yes, mi querida. I look forward to it.”

The smile she returned left him with the most bittersweet ache in his chest as he watched her round the corner from where they had come. He wasn’t certain how long he might have stood there to agonize over all of his new worries had Gail not called from a couple of hedges over.

“Hey, uh, Ramon?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know where I’m going.”

He gave a start before running in her direction.

~*~*~*~

Finally back in her room, Gail removed her bodice and skirts, lying them neatly folded on one of the chests of drawers. She knew that something about what she had told Ramon had really bothered him, and she hoped it hadn’t changed her standing with him.

She settled herself into her pallet before almost immediately scrambling to get up with a loud yelp as a sharp sting shot through her foot. It took her a moment to steady herself, throbbing pain pulsing at her heal.

“The FUCK?!” She grabbed the sheets and ripped the blanket away. Coiling around itself in agitation was a mid-sized snake. “Dammit! What are YOU doing here?!”

The snake prepared to strike again if need be with a warning hiss, and Gail spotted a short two-by-four propped against the opposite wall. With some persistence, she was able to use it to coax the reptile to exit the door and slither outside. That would just have to be someone else’s problem. Good thing no one in this castle would be extremely susceptible to a snake bite. Though she did hope it wasn’t EXTREMELY venomous. That would still be a bitch to recover from.

The bleeding stopped quickly, but it left her feeling feverish. She plopped back into bed. Nothing to do except sleep it off.

This didn’t come easy, though, as her fevered state made for a restless night. She slipped in and out of consciousness, each time, dozing off to a new bewildering dream about snakes.

Spanish translation:

¡Hola mis queridos! - Hello, my dears!