#& fee vaguely nauseous ???

[oftincturedwords]

i think i need to go & rehydrate myself because that damn episode has made me cry more than i have in literal yEARS

[trealamh]

I'm sorry if you've got these question before but I have to ask: what made Alisdair speak to Arthur in Glasgow Scale? Did Arthur and Dai have any other family? What life did Arthur leave behind in Kent, and was Alisdsir's life much changed afterwards?

I love how your short stories pack so much life into them, they can be unfolded ten times over and I still would want to know more

always ask anything you'd like! i love your questions. And aaaa thankyouthanyouthankyou for your kind words <3

hehe I have been wondering whether it would be too indulgent to write TGS from Alasdair's point of view, actually. It would be a longer piece and much more dialogue heavy, covering from the night they met to Arthur moving in.

(Here is where I confess that TGS was going to be a multi-chapter fic/ one of those 15k single-chapter fics until i got worried I would disappoint people by taking too long to update or missing scoteng week entirely orz sorry everyone)

But to answer your questions!

Alasdair, as i mentioned here had just been released from custody and made his way straight to the hospital (no time to rush home and hop in the shower when you're naw even sure your brother is still alive). He is still running high on adrenaline a when he goes to find a seat in the waiting room, having been dismissed by the nurses that won't let him into Sean's room. It may not show much on him, but emotionally he is all over the place; angry, furious, even, and worried. Exhausted and fed up with the proceedings of loss; the bureaucracy of pain. Having someone in hospital is one of the hardest things to go through; a lot of the time it is worse to be the one waiting outside than it is to be the one hooked onto an IV. Alasdair is burning for a smoke and out of filters but the truth is that the reason why he sits next to Arthur is that something in him recognises him as a younger brother-- Dai was older. Call it instinct. I don't believe he would rationalise it and I do think that at some point Arthur would ask him outright "Why did you choose to sit next to me that night? Why me?" Alasdair probably would not have the words o explain it beyond some vague sense that Arthur was the only person in that room that made sense to him in that moment.

Arthur and Dai only had each other, really. Maybe a distant relative here and there but no one close. I won't go into detail to spare anyone who might come across this without a cw but it is partly why Dai is almost meticulous with the instructions he leaves behind; he knows that Arthur won't have any support going forward so as much as he can he tries to make it easy.

(It is patently not. It could never be. Nothing about loss could ever be but losing someone under those circumstances especially is unmanageable.)

When Arthur calls Dai's workplace to try and let them know he is not coming in to work they seem a little baffled and tell him that Dai had put in his two weeks already. It makes Arthur nauseous; it almost brings him to his knees. It makes him realise how long Dai had been planning this for and that as much as the loss of him itself is worse than any nightmare.

Moving onto lighter things, what Arthur leaves behind in Kent is a slightly bemused flatmate and a few odd pieces of furniture. He only moves in with Alasdair after he finishes his degree! Dai and him grew up nestled deep in the Welsh borders (I needed them both to have a piece of their namesake countries with them! so the borders it was) lost their mother in their late teens, shortly after Arthur gets approved for his student loan. Some more deep lore for TGS: that the reason why Dai is studying in Edinburgh are the student fees. He is older than Arthur, as I mentioned, so went off to uni a year before he did with his mother's support. She was already sick when Arthur was finishing up school and gone before he got his A-levels back. That summer, Dai comes down from Scotland to help him back and move into his first-year accommodation in Kent and that is the last time they spend more than a couple of weeks together at a time. Everything they own between them and whatever their mum left is split even; they get a few boxes each and a couple of furnishings, and that's all they really need. Eventually, Arthur might start feeling that loss as well and he might feel nostalgic about his home town, the flat they shared with their mother, and he might return to seek out familiar sights. Dai never grows old enough for her loss to lose its sting. They have different fathers (both still living) but neither keep in touch; their wee family of three (and then two) was plenty enough for them.

(Alasdair, contrastingly, comes from a Big Family. They fold Arthur right in, don't ye worry.)

And last of all, Alasdair's life does change pretty significantly after the events in The Glasgow Scale. He stops smoking, for one, but he also starts drinking less. By the time we meet him in this AU he has already done a lot of the work to get a hold on his temper and it's partly why he is not one of the brawlers in the fight that puts Sean in a coma. But he still has a ways to go and Arthur helps with that, more than he knows. He learns to think about someone else's needs in a deeper way than he ever has before and starts to see his own actions through someone else's eyes. Alasdair post-TGS is guilt-ridden to a fault and being good to Arthur helps him get a grip of himself.

This is a bit of a spoiler but a few months after Dai's death, Arthur gets a call from one of his classmates. Dai left behind a few things (he was an artist, Dai was you see) and he offers to hold onto them until Arthur can travel back up to pick them up. Arthur mentions this to Alasdair, who he's kept in touch with (a little awkwardly at first ksks do not be fooled they are deeply emotionally constipated in this AU despite the way they latch onto each other in the midst of their respective trauma) and Alasdair offers to bring them down for him instead. He kinda just blurts it out actually haha and is afraid that it was too forward of him when Arthur takes too long to answer that aye, that would be good actually, if Alasdair is sure (he cannae afford a ticket up to Scotland is the truth).

This is a whole wee story in its own right but essentially they get to meet each other again, under better circumstances, and that lays a stronger foundation for their eventual relationship. It is also an incredibly awkward visit at first adgfjdhgj which oddly enough helps them get over a lot of personal hang-ups.

One thing about this fic though is that for as much as their lives are changed irrevocably by what they lose and earn that night, they are still very ordinary people hhh and that's what I love about them both.

[carolmaximoffs]

THE GOOD DOCTOR

CHAPTER FOUR

Ch. Summary: Thea gets a suspicious text from an unknown number. She risks sharing her secret with the team, in hopes of finding who’s behind them.

Warnings: stillbirth, vague depiction of childbirth, loss of a child, Agents of S. H. I. E. L. D. spoilers, cursing, probably some spelling errors

Pairings (bc I guess now is as good a time as ever to add this): Sam Wilson x WOC OFC

A/N: i’m on a roll and i don’t think it’s a good one...regardless, italics are a flashback (in the form of a dream). bold italics are texts, though that i hope is obvious... things get a little weird in this chapter but it’s bc i was watching OUAT and regina’s weird tomb w all those hearts is partially responsible. i’m sorry if this isn’t your jam right away but i promise this isn’t going to be a dark fic! this is probably about as creepy as it’ll get. again PLEASE read the warnings. 

Taglist (which is open!): @marvelousmrstark​

    THE DOCTOR AND THE CAPTAIN dance around each other for a week following lunch. She still hangs out with Wanda, and sometimes Bucky and Sam, but Steve is always miraculously busy. When Thea wakes up early to train with Natasha, Steve is always conveniently just leaving the kitchen as she enters. It isn’t until a Saturday morning that it comes to a halt.

    Tony quite literally drags Steve by the ear into the med-bay, which Thea would find funny if she weren’t loath to see him. America’s golden boy, and she’d been the one to tick him off. She knew he was a cautious man, suspicious due to events in recent years, and even in his past; it didn’t stop her from feeling incredibly awkward after his seemingly blatant distrust of her.

    The dark-haired man releases his hold on Steve and crosses his arms. The tips of Steve’s ears are grow red as Thea looks up from the paperwork she’s been doing, in regards to Clint’s mission injury a few days ago.

    “Talk,” Tony says as sternly as possible.

    “Thea, it wasn’t my place to question you about your abilities,” Steve starts, and Tony gives him a thumbs up while nodding encouragingly. Thea resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I...you made it clear you were just here as a doctor, and if that’s all you want to be then I will respect that. Thank you again for...my leg. And while I do think-”

    “Alright, shows over, nice job, thanks Dory!” Tony hastily interjects, gripping Steve’s forearm and steering him out of the small office. Thea rises to her feet.

    “Wait,” She commands, and they stop, Tony’s shoulders sagging. “What do you think?”

    “I think,” Steve says, turning around and meeting her eyes, “That your powers could be a great asset to the team. Outside of medical situations.”

    Thea realizes what he’s getting at. It takes everything in her to remain calm, lifting her chin just a little.

    “Whether that’s true or not, I’m perfectly happy with what I’m doing. Thank you for the apology, Steve.” Her words come out stiff, a little sharper than she means them to. Nevertheless, Thea shakes Steve’s hand when he offers it, and maintains her rigid posture until she hears the main doors to the med-bay close.

    “I tried to warn him,” Tony offers, having shifted to lean against the doorway. Thea drops into her chair with a sigh, leaning her head back as she clicks a pen absently.

    “I just wish everybody would let it go. It’s not...it’s not cool, it’s not useful.” Thea sits up straight, tossing the pen aside and gripping her desk. “I mean, what would I do with my powers in a fight? Put somebody to sleep? Stop their heart? I’m not...I’m not a killer, Tony.”

    “I know you’re not,” He says softly, approaching her desk to pry her fingers off it. “I won’t tell you that I agree with him, you know I do, but I will tell you it is 100% your decision.”

    Thea manages a thank you, and, bless him, Tony leaves. She closes the folder on Clint’s mission after signing a few more pages and sets it into her main desk drawer. Peering as far as she could to be sure Tony was gone, she pulls a key from around her neck and unlocks a little side drawer.

    Inside, only two items lay. One is a picture of her and her brother, only a year after she’d been adopted. Fury had explained his choice of family as ‘somewhere Thea could blend in, feel comfortable’, and it was perfect. The Triplett’s adopted her within 6 months of fostering her; she was home. In the photo, Antoine stands much taller than she, with an arm around her shoulders and the other wiggling into her abdomen. She, as a result of his tickling, is frozen in time laughing openly.

    Thea sets the photo aside and reaches back into the drawer for the other object. It’s a locket, one Antoine had given her. Though the chain is thin, the charm attached is sizable for a necklace. It vibrates with energy that might make Thea nervous if she wasn’t so intimately familiar with it. The click of the lock coming undone still sends chills down her spine, regardless.

    Within it, shrouded in the gold of Thea’s magic, beats a tiny human heart.

                                                                -

     That night, dinner is a lonely affair. Steve had left for a mission shortly after seeing Thea, Natasha and Sam with him. Bucky and Wanda had invited her to join them for supper, but Thea feigned having work to do; Tony had gone on a date with Pepper. Now, as the stove clock blinks 9:30, Thea settles at the breakfast bar with a bowl of leftover dumplings.

    She eats in silence, only disrupted when behind her, the TV clicks on. A glance over her shoulder shows her Bucky, flipping channels despite the book open on his lap. He doesn’t acknowledge her, however, so Thea returns to her meal, until her phone pings in her back pocket.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

    Thea frowns at the device, but opens the message anyways.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Funny how the good doctor avoids her powers

with friends, but not with family.

    Thea’s heart begins to pound. Not only had she made sure she was alone earlier, and every time she went into her drawer, but the key is always with her. Any assistants Tony hired had never even been through the office - it was really only for paperwork, anyways, and they always left it on the desk for Thea to go through later. She feels nauseous, suddenly: the only other person on Earth who knew about the locket, and it’s true nature, was dead.

    “You alright, Doc?” Comes a voice, and Thea jumps. She swallows as Bucky eyes her curiously, slipping her phone back into her pocket and nodding.

    “Yeah, I...yes. I’m good,” Thea replies, but her voice quivers just enough that Bucky grips her arm as she moves past him to put her bowl in the sink.

    “Thea-” He tries, but Thea pulls her arm away, giving him a tight, apologetic smile.

    “Bucky, I’m fine. Seriously.” Thea insists before she ducks out of the kitchen. She can’t shake the feeling of his gaze, half pity and half suspicion, even as she shuts her bedroom door. After a moment of thought, she locks it, for good measure, and closes every curtain. No chances taken. She showers and changes from scrubs to sweats, and as she settles into her pillows she pulls out her phone again.

     But not with family.

     Thea still feels nauseous, and without even thinking, she types out a response.

                                                                                                           Who is this?

    There’s no immediate answer. Thea groans as she shuts her light off and tosses the phone aside. She tosses and turns until finally falling into nightmares.

                                                                     -

    2014

    Thea laughs as Antoine crouches to coo over her quickly growing stomach. One month from her due date, but her brother has been devoted to her child from the moment Thea found out she was pregnant. She hadn’t even thought she could have children, nor had she really thought about them with the insane hours she worked, but she too was excited.

    “Hi little bugger,” He whispers. Thea scolds him for language, but he ignores her. “I’m your Uncle Trip. We’re gonna be best friends, ‘cause your mama’s gotta be strict.”

    Thea flicks his forehead, and he only smiles up at her before rising to his feet.

    “I’m sorry,” He starts, and Thea collapses dramatically back into her couch. “About Ward. If we had- if I had known, Dot, you know-”

    “Ant, it’s fine. Not your fault at all,” Thea tries to reason with him, but since learning of Grant’s true nature, she’d been struggling as well. Her long-time boyfriend had seemed so...so wonderful. Though Thea tried not to think about how he had seemed, tried not to think about him at all; it just spiraled until she was left wondering how much of it was lies.

    Suddenly, she cries out, and Antoine rushes to her as she doubles over. His voice floats in and out of focus, the pain consuming her.

    ��Dot? Hey, Dot, what’s up? Dor…”

     Thea feels only as if she blinks, and when she opens her eyes, she’s in a hospital bed. She’s hooked to various machines, and the room itself is crowded with people. Sound is still distorted, but Antoine is right by her side, gripping her hand. It’s a small relief.

    “It’s too soon,” Thea protests as an unfamiliar woman crouched by her feet  tells her to push. She doesn’t notice that she can only hear one heart monitor beeping. “Please, it’s too soon-”

    With further insistence, Thea pushes anyways, the promise of ending the pain too tempting. A scream tears from her throat. It feels like only minutes before she feels all pressure lift; she'd done it. Yet the cry she expects does not come. She fees . Thea holds onto her brother’s hand for dear life.

    “Ant? What’s happening? What’s wrong?” She whimpers, but Antoine is asking the doctors the same questions. Finally, they file out slowly, until only one doctor remains, a nurse standing just behind her, almost out of sight.

    “Ms. Triplett, we are so sorry. Your son...was stillborn. You can...you can still hold him if you’d like.”

    Thea’s body is wracked with sobs, but she holds her hands out regardless. The nurse places her unmoving child, swaddled with his eyes closed, into her arms. Antoine wraps an arm around her shoulders as Thea lets go of his hand to hold her son’s. The doctor mentions something about giving her time, and she and the nurse file out.

    “He’s perfect,” Thea whispers. She stares down at where her dark fingers encase his tiny tan hand, and her crying ceases. A deep determination settles into her bones. “I want to keep him.”

    “Thea.” Antoine gasps, alarmed, but she looks up at him with pleading eyes.

     “Please. Please, Ant, you know I would never ask you anything like this but I-he’s my son.”

    And as Antoine takes up a stray scalpel, Thea’s heart shatters all over again.

                                                                   -

    Thea jerks into a sitting position, gasping for breath. Her hands scramble for the key, feeling it still secure around her neck. Without thinking, she slides her feet into slippers and races from her room. She’s almost to the elevator when someone calls her name.

    “Thea?”

    It’s Sam, voice raspy from sleep. He’s still in his tactical suit, though without wings and goggles, evidently having been so wiped out he hadn’t changed. They must’ve just gotten back, then.

    “Sam,” she replies breathlessly. Thea struggles to tamp down the panic trying to eat her alive as he emerges fully from his bedroom, making his way to her. “I thought you had a mission.”

    “Just an in and out thing,” He replies, rubbing his eyes. “Are you alright? It’s 2:30.”

    “Oh, yeah, I’m great,” Thea lies, forcing a small laugh. Sam doesn’t look like he believes her, but she presses on. “Just heading to the kitchen, glass of water, you know.”

    “Then I’ll join you,” Sam says, taking another step towards her, and Thea’s heart feels ready to burst from her chest.

    “No!” Sam looks taken aback. His usually laid-back demeanor is uneasy. Thea gulps, fingers coming back up to twist into the chain of her necklace. “I mean, no, thank you. I also left something, um, downstairs, in my, my office so really, you should go back to bed. Need some rest.”

    She forces a laugh, but Sam only sighs, running a hand over his face. “Show me.”

    Thea swallows the bile rising in her throat and tries to steady her breathing as he follows her to the elevator. No more words are spoken as they walk down the hallway past the garage, Tony’s lab, and enter the medbay. Thea takes the key from around her neck as they enter the tiny back office. He crosses his arms expectantly as she unlocks the drawer.

    The locket nearly slips from her trembling hands, so Sam takes it instead, and Thea can’t find it in her to protest. He opens it, and closes it almost right after, staring at Thea with wide eyes.

     “What...the fuck?” Sam whispers, and Thea feels her eyes burn with tears. “Is…is that-”

    He struggles to get the words out, and Thea lets the first tears roll as she nods. Sam silently sets the locket back in the drawer and shuts it. “Who?”

    Thea takes a deep, shaky breath. An understanding seems to have grown between them, though Thea isn’t sure she wants him to voice it out loud. She squeezes her eyes shut to try to block out the semi-horrified look on his face.

    “It’s my son’s.”

                                                              -

    Thea swears Sam to secrecy, but he only agrees on the condition that she’ll tell the team as soon as she can.They return to their separate rooms, Thea with the locket clasped securely about her neck. Sure she won’t be able to sleep, not now, not when someone...two someones now know her secret. She opts instead to perch in the bay window of her bedroom, staring out over the city. Thea loses exact track of time as she immerses herself in thoughts, and the sun shines high above the city when FRIDAY’s voice reaches her ears.

    “Dr. Triplett, Boss wishes you’d join the team in the living room, please.” 

    Thea, habitually, tightens her fingers around the key, and now the locket as well. Quickly, she changes from her sleep shirt into a pullover and jeans, opting to head downstairs barefoot. As FRIDAY had said, the entire team is already spread out across the living room. Tony rises to his feet to guide Thea to sit next to him before clearing his throat.

   “Birdbrain said you had something to tell us, but I knew if you’d kept something from me it must be serious,” Tony explains, and Thea finds herself nodding. “Didn’t want to uh, make you feel under any more pressure with a conference room.” 

    Thea nods, hesitating. She takes the beat of silence to look over everyone, feeling almost as if it was the day she’d arrived. Wanda is curled up to Vision, Natasha and Steve taking up the rest of Tony and Thea’s couch. Steve’s sat forward, elbows rested on his knees, already intently listening. Bucky lingers in the kitchen doorway. Rhodey and Sam, too, are on their feet, and when she meets his eyes, Sam gives her an encouraging nod. The surgeon is unable to voice the truth, not without any leeway. She unhooks the locket from her neck and opens it.

    The moment Thea does this, gasps and murmurs flood the room. After just a few seconds, once she was sure everyone had seen it’s contents, she closes the locket and gently sets it into her lap. Tony is floundering beside her, but Thea speaks first. 

    “That is my son’s heart,” She croaks, a little surprised at the brokenness of her voice. She finds herself meeting Sam’s eyes as she speaks, as she hadn’t even explained it to him last night. 

   “He was stillborn and...I didn’t handle it very well.” Thea continues. She thinks Rhodey mutters an ‘obviously’, but he’s quickly shushed. A sob builds in her throat as she talks, but she fights it. “My brother was there...he um, he had some medical training as well, he...he took out the heart for me, and I healed my son’s body so they wouldn’t suspect anything. He’d never had a heartbeat to begin with s-so nobody said anything. His body was cremated. A year later, my brother died. He was the only person who knew about...about Philip’s heart.” 

   To Thea’s shock, Natasha reaches out to grab her hand. With her free hand, Thea swipes at stray tears. When Thea looks over at the other woman, Natasha is watching her with a knowing expression. Vision’s voice cracks the moment in two. 

    “Pardon me but...where was the father?” He asks hesitantly, and Thea laughs bitterly, to their shock. 

   “Out of the picture. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I met through my brother but...” Thea shakes her head, reminiscing. “He turned out to be undercover Hydra. Said he only knew me for me but, he read files on me long before he even joined S.H.I.E.L.D.”

    Natasha is nodding in Thea’s peripheral, and Thea recalls in the back of her mind that Nat had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the past. She must have at least some inkling of what Thea was on about. The younger woman pulls her hand back into her lap gently, to wrap both of them around the locket.

    “It doesn’t matter now. He’s dead and irrelevant. But last night, I got a text from an unknown number,” Thea reveals. “It was only one thing but it...it really shook me because yesterday I had looked at Philip’s heart. And then I get that message...‘Funny how the good doctor avoids her powers with friends, but not with family.’” 

   “And your brother was the only person who knew, but he’s...passed on as well, right?” Steve interjects, and Thea nods. “How did Sam find out?” 

    Thea fights a smile. Part of her felt...relief. She hadn’t talked about this with anyone before, and never planned to. Even if the team was finding out now, she was glad to have been able to trust Sam first. She takes a deep, slightly shaky breath before going on. 

   “I had a dream, last night. Or a nightmare, really. I...remembered the day Philip was born. Or, not born, I guess. I don’t know. But the dream and the messages, I was so shaken up and I went to go check on the locket. The key to the drawer it was in is always...” Thea untucks the key around her neck, “but I was so paranoid...Sam caught up with me in the hallway. Had me take him down to show him. I just...I guess I knew it was time to tell someone.” 

    All at once, Thea’s exhaustion hits her. It’s clear to the other’s that she’s finished sharing. Steve, ever the leader, nods sympathetically and reaches over to pat Thea’s shoulder as he stands. 

   “Well, you did the right thing,” He states, and the sentiment is followed with murmurs of agreement from the team. “Especially with this...unknown person messaging you.”  

    “He’s right, DT,” Tony says, speaking for the first time since Thea had sat down. He’s risen to his feet as well, already rubbing his hands together. “In fact, give me your phone. I’ll see if I can’t figure out who’s behind this.” 

    Thea agrees, though she left her phone in her bedroom, and Tony tells her not to worry. After Thea promises to bring it down to the lab ASAP, the group disperses. Nat pulls her aside with a surprisingly kind smile as she makes towards the elevator. 

    “Philip for Coulson, right?” The redhead inquires. Thea smiles back, a little embarrassed, but she nods. 

   “He was one of the one’s who rescued me as a kid,” Thea elaborates as she presses the button for the residential floor. Nat nods, but she’s suddenly bumped by Sam as he slips into the elevator with Thea. 

    “Sorry, Nat!” He calls out as the doors close. The man spares the buttons a quick once over, but evidently they’re going to the same place. Sam settles in beside Thea without pushing a single one’ she tries to ignore the fact that he’s comfortable enough to stand so close their elbows brush, despite all he’s learned of her. They exit the lift together, not engaging in conversation, but he walks her all the way to her door near the end. Right as she goes to enter, he coughs. Thea turns back to him with a raised brow.

   “I know that couldn’t have been easy for you,” Sam tells her. It’s a redundant statement, but the soft quality to his voice prevents Thea from being annoyed. “Steve was right though, because we can...you know, we can help you now.” 

    Thea bites back a scoff as she pushes open her door and walks inside. True to her instinct, Sam follows. 

    “I mean with the texts, of course. ‘Cause that’s some creepy shit,” He hastily amends. “Although...I do know a little about PTSD.” 

    This has Thea stopping in her tracks. She turns around, arms crossed, to meet his eyes again. Sam’s face wears a strange look she can’t read, but she raises a brow as nonverbal permission to go on. 

   “If you ever...wanted to talk to anyone. Not like, a shrink. Like a...a friend.” He’s nervous, Thea realizes, as he scrubs a hand over the back of his neck and shifts his weight. Despite the tightness gripping her heart, Thea gives him her most appreciative and reassuring smile. 

   “Thanks, Sam,” She says. He nods, more to himself than anything, and turns to leave as Thea turns back to her dresser. As she picks up her phone, she gasps. “Sam?!” 

   His footsteps almost echo as a new bout of queasiness washes over Thea. She doesn’t hear what he says as she stares at the screen, barely registering him so close to her as he takes a look. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER You know who it is. Return to

the place it all began, for it

is the place that all ends. 

[magpiemorality]

On the eighth day of Christmas

Fem!Virgil, Fem!Hispanic!Roman, Fem!Patton & Fem!Logan, 1950s Fem!Sides Highschool AU. Warnings for mentions of racist bullying (against a hispanic character) and vaguely alluded to abusive relationship.

Eight Maids A’Milking

Poodle skirts and patent shoes filled the school gym, all decked out in the finest cheesy Christmas decor imaginable. The school Christmas dance, rather a tradition by now despite it's unpopularity sitting only a few weeks after homecoming; was in full swing. Over the sounds of the band and the emcee calling the dances, there was giggling and chatter from every corner, generated by just over a hundred teenage voices all overexcited by the prospect of romance and potentially spiked punch.

Some were more excited than others, and Virginia Sanders was on the lower end of the spectrum. Her mouth was set firmly in a distasteful pout, chin in her hand as she slouched on the bleachers with her elbow digging a dull ache in her knee and her second-hand skirt rumpling underneath her. It wasn't exactly her idea of good festive fun. Too many hormones and loud noises and people. Worse- teenagers, and yeah so what she thought it with such disgust when she was one herself? It wasn't like she was happy about it.

If only the kids at her new school weren't like the kids at every other dang high school she'd been to in the last two years (a total of five, but one of them hardly counted as it had technically been summer break all but one week they'd been in town). Then at least she might not be sitting there alone, as usual, wishing she was at home or sneaking out to play baseball with her recently inaugurated best (only) friend Patty. Patty had a wicked arm- Virginia was sure she could beat anyone on the team with her fastball, not that anyone would care to discover it.

But Patty was, much to Virginia's dismay, one of the more enthusiastic in their year about things like Christmas dances and new outfits. She was even on the planning committees and a cheerleader to boot. But she did look cute as a button, done up in her powder blue skirt with the little white flowers, a matching ornament in her perfectly pinned up silky blonde curls. Oh how they gently caressed her face when she twisted side to side to the music and how her smile lit up the room when she grinned and waved over at Virginia...

Virginia sat up sharply with a faint blush, lifting her hand in brief reply and looking away quickly, smoothing down her skirts. She missed the slight fall of Patty's expression, but the other girl stayed on the dance floor when the rest of her group squealed at the start of a new song and dragged her back into the fray.

On the opposite side of the room a different girl was stood watching the mass of bodies out in the centre of the room with considerably less disgust and considerably more longing. She tossed her dark head, rubbing the corsage on her wrist that had no partner, and sighed deeply as she resisted the urge to sway to the music. Rosanna Castillo did not have friends like Patty did, to dance and gasp and laugh with. Rosanna Castillo had classmates, who would mock her accent when it came out and make snide and unsubtle remarks about how good she must be at laundry, and whether she was available to cook dinner, for a small fee of course...

Rosanna Castillo wished she could go out there and dance and show them all what she was really good at, but she knew she would never dare. There was only half a year left before she would be out of town and off to make her name in show business, after all. And she was a good enough actor to last that long at least.

She cast her eyes down, catching sight of a young couple hurrying away from the dance floor; the boyfriend chasing after his clearly distressed girlfriend. She tried not to eavesdrop as they came to a stop near the wall she was hovering by, the boy grabbing his girlfriend's arm and yanking her around to face him as he hissed at her from up close. Her glasses slipped down her nose and she flinched when he pushed them back up her nose. Rosanna's hackles raised instinctively and she focused harder on what was going on.

"Sweetie, you know you have to stay out and dance with me or it'll look awful for both of us! You can't just leave."

"I won't stand there and smile while your stupid friends say those horrible things it's just not fair, Dee!" Dee's smile was pained in the coloured lights, pasted on for show, and his grip didn't shift as the girl pushed at his hand, trying to free herself. "I'm going home, let go of me! You know I didn't want to come anyway-"

"Don't be ridiculous honey you're embarrassing yourself. Lori stop it I'm not gonna let go. Lori! Loren-Ann stop making a fuss!" He tugged her a little closer but she'd apparently reached her limit, and before Rosanna could move to intervene Loren-Ann had stomped hard on her boyfriend's foot and followed up with a knee to his stomach as he doubled over, leaving him gasping and clutching at the wall to stay upright as she stormed off.

Rosanna was impressed beyond belief. She darted after her new heroine as the girl in question shoved through the doors and out into the night, intending to make sure she was okay.

Back on the other side of the gym Virginia was trying not to watch as the music slowed down and Patty moved smoothly into the arms of a boy, it looked like the large Tight End on the football team, Norm or Nick or something equally generic. Virginia spitefully thought to herself that his end probably wasn't even that tight, and immediately felt bad about the nastiness. It was unbecoming of a lady, her mother would have said, and despite herself Virginia couldn't quite shake the drilled-in response of nauseous guilt at even the imagined sound of her mother's shrill voice, always picking picking picking at Virginia no matter what she did-

She stopped her line of thinking to take a few deep breaths, standing up and descending the bleachers carefully, unaccustomed to the kitten heels she was wearing. Unaccustomed to all the frippery and finery and the hot sting of something she wasn't sure about in her chest (it ached like jealousy, but she had to deny that or else she'd have to start thinking about why and jealous of what or worse- who) and gosh dang it she needed to not be here anymore.

The door beckoned and the cool air was delightful on Virginia's skin as she burst out of the gym and made for the parking lot, unaware that she was about to stumble over two other early escapees, sharing the tentative beginning of a conversation that was destined to lead to a surprising new friendship. Unaware that Patty would clock her absence once the dance was over and Nate had let her slip away from his sweaty hands and overwhelming cologne to go 'to the bathroom', whereupon she would actually have to go to the bathroom to take a few moments to herself as she let the disappointment pass. And unaware that- contrary to expectation- her future held a whole lot of new and exciting things to come before the year was out...

For now she was just thinking about how much better life would be when she finally got into bed.

12 Days of Sides-mas Masterpost

[peraltasames]

mountains and valleys (and all that will come in between) - chapter three

Jake, Amy, and four distinct yet painfully similar times the universe pulled them apart and pushed them back together.

read on ao3

part three: prison

Amy is falling apart.

It’s after the jury says “guilty”, the judge gives two of her favourite people on the planet each a sentence of fifteen years in prison, and the court is adjourned.

It’s after two officers handcuff Jake and Rosa, respectively, and she’s overwhelmed by how wrong it feels to see them on this side of the law.

It’s after Amy makes desperate eye contact with him for only a split second and attempts to convey everything she can with such a look - predominantly “I love you and I will bring you home” - but worries that her fear and pain are more evident.

It’s after Gina’s arms wrap around her and her cold fingers come up to stroke Amy’s hair and provide her with some semblance of comfort.

It’s after the squad, which is noticeably too small, convenes briefly in the hallway of the courthouse and they try to comfort each other while also making a plan, which they will begin to execute tomorrow, to bust Hawkins.

It’s after she receives offers from every one of her friends to take her for drinks or drive her home or, if going home might be too painful, to stay at one of their places.

It’s after she politely declines said offers and accepts one more hug from Charles, immediately afterwards retreating to her car in the parking lot.

It happens when she unlocks her little sedan and climbs into the driver’s seat. She turns the key in the ignition and the Enya CD automatically starts to play, but in stark contrast to their drive back from Pennsylvania only a few hours ago, there is no Jake sitting in the seat next to her and singing along or squeezing her thigh periodically while she drives.

Right away, she ejects the CD and chucks it haphazardly into the back seat, leaving her in complete silence.

That is when breaks, because life with Jake is never this quiet, but life without him - a life she knows all too well from his time in witness protection - is painfully so. Her heart feels like it’s shattering inside her chest, making her entire body physically ache, and she releases the pain with a strangled sob.

Her forehead comes to rest against the steering wheel as tears stream down her face and cloud her vision. Her ears are still ringing with the “guilty” verdict, her brain is still replaying the image of him being dragged away from her.

She doesn’t pull herself together until the sun begins to set over the courthouse parking lot. Her phone buzzes incessantly, to the point that she can no longer ignore it, and she picks it up without checking the name on the screen.

“Hello?” Her voice is weak and a little hoarse - it’s the first word she’s spoken in almost an hour.

“Amy, how was the trial?”

Her dad’s firm, formal tone shrouds most of the fear in his voice. He’s been a rock for them the past few months, offering to help pay for legal fees or come to New York and assist her in digging for evidence to indict Hawkins.

She opens her mouth to answer and no words come out, no sound other than a quiet whimper, the aftershock of the wails that just wracked her body.

“Oh, no, honey. They didn’t…”

She hadn’t been sure until now - until this horrible, awful circumstance - if her father even liked Jake. Now, with the slight trembling in his usually steady voice, she thinks he’s begun to see him more like an eighth son than his daughter’s boyfriend.

“Guilty on all charges,” she chokes out. “Jake and Rosa. They both got-they got fifteen years.“

“You’ll get them out, mija, I know you will,” Victor cuts in firmly. “You have a strong detective squad, your captain is brilliant-”

“What if we can’t, Dad?”

There’s a brief silence. If he were here, she’s sure she would see the typical pensive, thoughtful look on her father’s face as he tries to formulate the best possible response to ease his daughter’s worries. He’s always, always known the right thing to say for every situation life has thrown at her.

This isn’t a B on a math test or a mean girl who didn’t invite Amy to her birthday party, though.

“We’ll figure something out, Amy,” he responds with vague uncertainty. “Do you want your mother and I to come stay with you for a while?”

“I-I don’t know. No. I think I need to be alone and…and try to process this.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” Another long pause. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I hope so.”

She drives home, climbs into his side of the bed, and cries until it’s no longer physically possible.

-

Around half past four in the morning, Amy wakes with sweat on her forehead and bits and pieces of the dream she’s experienced every time she closes her eyes tonight still fresh in her memory.

The dreams have varied slightly, but all of them start with her in Jake’s arms, in the bed that is currently half-empty, and subsequently end with him being dragged out of a courtroom.

Needless to say, going back to sleep is not an option - she isn’t sure if her heart can take seeing his desperate eyes and shaky hands another time. Instead of closing her eyes and attempting to get more than one or two hours of rest before work, she accepts defeat.

The apartment is cold, too cold for summer, and it doesn’t help that her primary heat source is hundreds of miles away. That doesn’t help anything, actually - all it does is make her want to scream about the injustice of the state of New York and America and, really, the universe.

(She’s a good person. Good people don’t deserve to watch their boyfriend go to prison for a crime they didn’t commit.)

She proceeds with her morning routine hours ahead of schedule, filling out the crossword and drinking her coffee. She grabs a pantsuit from her side of the closet and tries not to look at the half occupied with plaid shirts and hoodies.

By six-thirty, she’s parked her car in front of the precinct. She recognizes that in order to maintain her regular workload and work on the case, there is no time to be wasted.

She’s engrossed in a witness report from one of the first robberies, her nose buried in one of the many files on her desk, when her ears faintly register footsteps and a concerned voice calling out her name.

Still, she doesn’t look up from the file - no time to be wasted.

“Santiago,” the voice says again, closer this time, followed by a much softer: “Amy.”

Only when she strays far enough from her train of thought to register who is speaking to her does she look up from her desk, a quick glance to acknowledge Captain Holt’s presence before resuming her careful perusing.

“I didn’t expect to see you today,” Holt says.

“Why not?” she asks without looking up.

“I can imagine this must be very difficult for you. Jake being convicted.” He adds the last part like she doesn’t know, like she hasn’t spent the past sixteen hours hearing the word guilty echo in her brain like a gunshot. “I thought it went without saying, but you are welcome to take a few days off is you need time to process this.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m sure your colleagues will be more than willing to cover your cases-“

“No.” She cuts him off with firmness that surprises both of them, shaking her head. “I can’t just sit at home while Jake is alone and probably terrified and in danger in a goddamn cell in the middle of nowhere. I have to find a way to get him and Rosa out. I need to be working.”

She braces herself for the speech - the reprimanding that will almost certainly end in her going home and realizing the error in her approach - but, even if the captain has crafted such a message in his mind, it never comes. He simply nods and takes a step back.

“Okay,” he speaks quietly, voice lacking its usual authoritative quality. “Just please let me know if you need anything.”

She barely manages to rasp a “thank you” before he’s in his office and closing the door behind him, his desk already covered in a similar array of papers and - maybe, hopefully - some sort of clue that will lead them to Hawkins’ arrest.

-

The first day she visits him, with Captain Holt and Charles in company, she’s left feeling much worse than before.

She’s able to hold it together during the visit, with Jake’s eyes so intently watching her every move. His analytical gaze hardly leaves her face for the entirety of the hour, and she knows that he can see the dark circles she tried her best to cover up with concealer in the airport bathroom and the smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She wishes he didn’t know her so well, or that he wasn’t such an observant person - maybe then she could fool him into thinking she’s okay.

She listens to him talk about the crappy food in the dining hall, his quirky cellmate, and the general gist of life as an inmate. She laughs when he makes a joke and smiles when he smiles at her. She tries to ignore the pit in her stomach.

Finally, she hugs him goodbye; his stubbly face brushes against hers and she can feel the loss of weight when her hand curls around his back, and she’s overwhelmed by the ways prison has already changed him physically. When she thinks about the mental and emotional toll it’s inevitably going to take, she begins to feel a little bit nauseous.

The nausea takes hold and refuses to relent when they step out of the visiting room and she hears an announcement over the P.A. that an inmate has just been stabbed in the cafeteria. She knows it’s not him - he was in her arms less than two minutes ago, there’s no way he got there that quickly - but it could be him tomorrow, or the next day, or any minute of any day until she gets him out of here.

Amy is strong, so she shakes her head when Holt asks if she needs a moment before starting their rental car and heading back to the airport to catch their flight (back to New York, back to being thousands of miles from the other half of her heart).

Amy is strong, but her stomach is decidedly not - they only make it twenty minutes down the empty South Carolina backroads before she’s blurting out a request for Holt to pull over and Charles is holding her hair back while she throws up.

The rest of the trip home - the drive, the flight, the taxi back to the precinct - is completely silent.

-

The collective concern for Amy among the Nine-Nine grows substantially after the South Carolina incident.

Gina, now on maternity leave and only weeks away from giving birth, invites her over to gossip about the other women in her prenatal class, drink tea and watch TLC shows.

Charles makes her dinner at least a few times a week after realizing how little she’s been eating at work. Nothing too weird, either - mostly pasta, casseroles, the sort of food he thinks she’s most likely to actually eat.

Holt extends an open invitation to dinner with him and Kevin, which she accepts one night when her apartment is feeling even more eerily empty than usual. Kevin tries to crack jokes about that morning’s New York Times crossword puzzle, and she tries to let herself laugh and enjoy that this would be her dream dinner under normal circumstances.

Terry comes over one Saturday morning with Ava while Sharon is at a birthday party with the twins, and Amy does feel a small resurgence of warmth in her chest while playing with Jake’s two year-old goddaughter.

While she’s incredibly grateful for her friends and their support, it doesn’t really fill the void that is drinking tequila on the couch with Rosa (the very thing that got her through much of Jake’s time in WITSEC) or making out with Jake in their kitchen on a lazy Sunday afternoon. There is no substitute for Rosa Diaz or Jake Peralta (the latter she learned the hard way years ago while trying to convince herself she could be happy with other men).

She only cries at work once. She’s been at the precinct for twelve hours, working tirelessly on a lead concerning one of Hawkins’ subordinates that ultimately led to another in a long string of dead ends. The moment she realizes she’s made zero progress in nearly five weeks - five weeks of Jake sitting in prison - she feels the floodgates open, her feet carrying her to the evidence lockup as quickly as possible as to not break down in front of the entire bullpen.

It’s no surprise, really, that a paIr of footsteps follow her and strong arms wrap around her before the first sob is released.

“It’s okay, Amy, you can let it out,” Terry says softly, patting her back.

“I can’t keep letting him down,” she whimpers. “I need to find something.”

It’s a thought she’s entertained a few too many times - that if she or someone else had been incarcerated in his place, Jake surely would’ve figured out a way to get them out by now. Jake, the brilliant detective, dedicated friend and perfect boyfriend. God, he always figures it out.

“You aren’t letting him down, you’re doing the best that you can,” he assures her. “And it’s not just your burden, okay? We’re all with you. We’re gonna get them out, together.”

She nods against Terry’s chest as the tears staining his white shirt continue to flow freely.

“I miss him so much.”

“I know, Amy. I know.”

-

It’s a Tuesday afternoon when she gets a phone call from an unknown number, and her heart nearly stops for a variety of reasons, the most worrisome being the fact that she’s Jake’s emergency contact in prison -the first person to be called if he’s injured or, god forbid, worse.

“Hello, this is Amy Santiago.” She tries to keep her voice firm and steady.

“Ames, it’s me.”

The phone almost slips out of her fingers as soon as she hears the familiar voice.

“Jake? How are - you got the contraband phone?”

“Yep,” Jake replies cheerfully on the other end. “All it took was giving a murderer some ramen.”

He sounds happy - happy for someone in his situation, anyways - and despite the way her throat tightens at the thought of him colluding with convicted murderers, she tries to be a little bit happy, too.

“I’m glad you managed to get one, babe,” she says softly, leaning forward in her desk chair. “Especially after our last visit was cut short.”

He sighs happily, and she can almost see the content, dreamy look on his face that often accompanies such a sigh buried deep in her memory.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing your voice.”

“I know.” She clutches the phone a little tighter, trying to memorize the sound of his breathing. “It’s so amazing.”

“And now every day can be like visiting day, and we can talk about whatever, whenever-“

He’s cut off abruptly, and Amy tenses as she hears the faint sound of another man’s voice in the background.

“I gotta go.”

“Jake?”

The line goes dead before she can receive a response or ascertain for herself what kind of situation had arisen that required him to hang up so quickly.

She doesn’t get much time to dwell on it; a brief moment later, Terry is calling her over to look at something in one of the robbery files.

They’re getting closer, she thinks. She’s going to get him out.

-

The spark of hope in the form of an address for a bus station is quickly extinguished. On the drive home from Linden, New Jersey, Amy feels her optimism deteriorate more with every mile. Hawkins was one step ahead of them.

Hawkins is always one step ahead of them. Maybe she always will be.

She’s trying to find some other solution, some desperate Hail Mary to save them, but not even the deepest corners of her mind can come up with any route they haven’t already explored.

Once Captain Holt comes out of his office rambling about finishing pigs, everything is shoved into hyper speed: running to change into tactical gear; storming the Slaughterhouse and the sweet vindication of Melanie Hawkins’ face as she realizes she’s lost; reluctantly complying with Holt’s orders to assist Terry in arresting the remainder of Hawkins’ men up in Queens, letting Charles and Holt go to retrieve Jake and Rosa, respectively; finally seeing every one of the people responsible for making her and her loved ones’ lives a living hell for months behind bars; scrambling to finish arrest reports without even double-checking for grammatical errors because she needs to get to the airport.

She doesn’t even have time to process what’s happening until she’s standing at the arrivals gate, her eyes glued to the TBD next to Charleston, wringing her hands together as she awaits for the ARRIVED to appear in big, green letters.

He’s coming home. After the two most gruelling and emotionally exhausting months of her life, she will finally get to hold him with no guards yelling that their time is up and kiss him until her heart pieces itself back together.

He’s coming home, he’s coming home, he’s coming home.

She repeats it like a mantra in her head to keep herself grounded to reality, so preoccupied with reminding herself she isn’t dreaming that she doesn’t notice as the sign changes - the plane landed six minutes early - and is completely unprepared and lost in her own thoughts when she hears Charles’ voice cut through the noisy room.

“Amy!”

The scene that follows is almost too cinematic to be real. The crowd seems to part serendipitously, their eyes meet at exactly the same time, the bag Jake is carrying is abandoned on the ground at Boyle’s feet as he sprints towards her. She’s too shellshocked by the perfection of it all that she only makes it a few feet before he reaches her.

His momentum nearly knocks her off her feet, but he scoops her up in his arms and spins her around - a full three-sixty - with ease, her joyous laughter ringing out through the swarm of New Yorkers reuniting with loved ones (most of them in less dramatic manner) and going utterly unnoticed by anyone other than them (and Charles, obviously).

He doesn’t set her down for a few seconds, her arms winding around his neck while she burrows her face past his hoodie and her lips connect with his collarbone.

“Oh my god, Ames,” he sighs, pulling away to look at her with hands firmly gripping her upper arms, “I can’t believe this is happening. This is real.”

She doesn’t completely register that she’s crying until she’s nodding rapidly and the tears fall from her eyes. A bright smile forms on her face, not unlike the awestruck grin on his.

“It’s real, babe.”

She isn’t sure she believes it until she says it herself: Jake is wearing a t-shirt, hoodie and leather jacket instead of an orange jumpsuit; he smells like his cologne and not the cheap prison soap; his face is completely shaven, no trace of the beard remaining. He looks like a dream.

“You got rid of the beard,” she murmurs, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks.

“With a crappy razor in a gas station bathroom, but I wanted to get rid of all evidence of prison by the time I got home. I had Charles bring me a bag of my stuff.” She manages a smile despite the ache in her chest, a small voice telling her that the ramifications of this traumatic time will not be fixed with cologne and a gas station razor. “Do you miss it?”

“Nope,” she says without thought. Then, a little quieter: “I missed you.”

“Same here, babe. You have no idea how much.”

She raises herself onto the tips of her toes to pull him in for a long, searing kiss. Her hand strokes his hair, slightly longer than the last time she ran her fingers through it. Other than that tiny, minuscule change, it feels strikingly similar to every other kiss she’s shared with her boyfriend - beautiful, right, full of love.

“I love you,” she whispers after pulling away, pecking his lips softly.

“I love you t-Boyle, c’mon man.”

She spins around to face their coworker, whose presence she had completely forgotten, where he stands only a few feet away from them, holding his phone up.

“Did you seriously film all that?” Amy asks, laughing a little because she can’t bring herself to be annoyed right now, not when Jake is stroking the small of her back.

“Can you blame me?” Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up defensively. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She rolls her eyes, wiping a few stray tears away and leaning into Jake’s side for support. She can’t really disagree with him.

“Believe it or not, mine and Charles’ reunion was actually much more emotional,” Jake states, tilting his head down so that his nose barely brushes her temple and he can see her laugh.

“Oh, I believe it.” She takes his hand and slides her fingers into the spaces between his. “We should get going. I told the squad we’ll be at Shaw’s in half an hour and it’s gonna be a nightmare getting out of here.”

Jake sighs happily, squeezing her hand as he retrieves his bag from the floor.

“Is it weird that I actually missed New York traffic?”

-

Amy’s never been completely certain what her favourite place on Earth is.

Before today, she could’ve made an argument for a few different spots: the small reading nook off in her apartment, the fireplace at her parents’ house in New Jersey, the main branch of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue.

Now, as she’s nestled into a booth with Jake and Rosa on either side of her, Jake’s arm around her and his chest vibrating as he laughs at a story Charles is telling, she is certain there’s no completion.

As glorious as the sounds of her reunited squad’s laughter and as warm as the look on Jake’s face is making her insides, there are certain things that cannot be done or said until they are alone. With every kiss he presses to her cheek and every stroke of her hand on his thigh, she longs for the privacy of their apartment.

“Let’s go home,” she murmurs in his ear after an hour or so.

He doesn’t argue or even hesitate, he just nods, presses a subtle kiss to her head and begins saying goodbye to each member of the squad.

As she watches him hug Charles, who is reluctant to let go, shake hands with Captain Holt and Terry, squeeze Rosa’s shoulder and stop to smile brightly at Hitchcock and Scully, she feels the tectonic plates of her world begin to shift back together. It isn’t exactly normal, but it’s on its way to being something resembling normal. Maybe something better, some time in the future.

He wraps his arm around her waist, his fingers grazing the material of her soft, pink sweater as he thanks everyone one more time and says he’ll see them at work on Monday, which is the most delightfully mundane statement Amy’s ever heard.

Their limbs tangle in the back of the cab; her leg is crossed and draped over his and his arm is hung around her shoulders. It’s intimate yet casual until his hand reaches down to rest on her thigh, starting close to her knee and inching upwards. It’s warm and comforting at first, but his touch ignites her body with ease after two months without this kind of intimacy.

She glances up at him to find his eyes already on her, dark and focused. He knows exactly what he’s doing to her, and it’s fully intentional.

It’s not an easy feat, but she restrains from kissing him until she unlocks their front door - she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to stop kissing him once she begins - and he has a moment to take in their apartment for the first time in way too long.

The apartment is dark, lit only by the small light above the stove and the glow of the city through the window, and neither of them move to turn on the lights. Instead, they move towards each other like magnets, her hands cupping his face and his tugging at her waist as their lips meet.

All of the tenderness of the kisses they shared at the bar is gone as they relish in finally, finally being alone in a room together. It’s been months since she’s kissed him this deeply. She’s missed the ability to prove her love for him through her actions rather than just telling him repeatedly through the speaker of a cheap prison phone.

She doesn’t realize she’s been gently pushing him forward, unknowingly moving through the apartment, until the backs of his legs connect with the couch and he’s pulling her down next to him. Never breaking the kiss, Amy shoves the leather jacket and hoodie off of him all at once and lets them fall to the floor, her hands immediately flying to run up and down his newly-exposed biceps.

Still feeling far too separate from him, Amy swings her leg over to straddle his waist and slowly thrusts against him while simultaneously deepening the kiss, a move which earns her a low moan from Jake’s lips. He tugs off her sweater and the tank top underneath in one swift movement, discarding them in the pile of his already-removed garments. Warm hands sweep over her back and pull her closer.

“I missed you so much,” Amy mutters frantically when she takes a second to pull away for air.

“You have no idea, Santiago,” Jake groans, his eyes trailing her lacy black bra that she definitely wore on purpose for his homecoming while his hands unbutton her jeans and stroke the sides of her matching underwear.

Amy kisses him again and pulls at the bottom of his t-shirt until he frees his arms to assist her in tugging it over his head. Her fingers drift downward, grazing his ribs, and quickly pull away as soon as she feels him tense below her.

“Sorry, babe, are my hands too cold-“

She glances down, her eyes widening as she takes in the array of faded bruises and scars covering much of her boyfriend’s torso.

“Jake...” she whispers, her hand covering her mouth as she takes in every inch of discolouration on his ribs, abdomen, back and shoulders.

“I’m okay!” he cuts in quickly, glancing down in surprise as if he’s seeing this for the first time, too. “It’s really not that bad, Ames. Trust me, it looks a lot worse than it is.”

She shakes her head, blinking back the tears that have already formed. “What happened? Was this that Romero guy? You promised me you didn’t do anything dangerous to get the phone-“

“No, babe, it wasn’t him,” Jake assures her, gently guiding her waist so that she’s sitting next to him, her legs still draped over his lap. “He asked me to kill a guard, so I decided to let the guard beat me up on camera to try to get him fired instead. It was weeks ago, I’ve mostly healed, I swear.”

Amy nods, biting her lip to stifle a sob and reaching out to grab one of his hands between both of hers.

“So you were safe after that, right? Nobody else touched you?”

���Yeah. I mean, things got kinda complicated, in a weird turn of events my cannibal cell mate ended up getting stabbed for me, but-“ Jake stops as he sees her eyes widen with fear once more. “I was mostly safe. Don’t worry. I’m fine now, really.”

She can hardly process the idea of him locked up with murderers and cannibals, her boyfriend with a heart of gold surrounded by so much evil makes her feel queasy, but she tries to suppress her emotions for his benefit. He’s just been through hell, he doesn’t need to see the pain she’s endured through this experience just yet.

“I’m going to speak to Captain Holt in the morning and file an official complaint against that guard and the prison,” Amy says with a slightly clearer voice, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

For a moment, Jake looks like he’s going to tell her to let it be and leave this all in the past, but he just nods and pulls his hand away to wrap his arm around her shoulders and bring her closer.

“Let’s not talk about it any more tonight, okay?”

She buries her face in his neck, fully aware that he can feel the tears leaking onto his skin, and nods slowly.

“You’re home,” she murmurs, her hand rubbing small circles on his thigh. “You’re really here.”

“I’m here.” His lips press a kiss, long and warm, against her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

His lips move back to hers and his hands back to her jeans, pulling them down to her ankles while they kiss as fervently as before.

“We should-”

“Yep,” Jake says against her lips before she can finish. His hands swoop down to lift her up and she curls her legs around his waist in response, continuing to distract him with her tongue as he slowly walks them towards their bedroom.

-

The birds aren’t yet chirping and the sky is still dark, but it’s indisputably morning by the time Jake pulls out of her and presses one long, lingering kiss on her lips before flopping down on his side of the bed.

They made love slowly and softly, neither in a hurry for it to be over, holding on as long as possible to keep it from ending. In one word, it was incredible.

(If more words were to be used, Amy would describe it as more passionate and loving and emotional than she knew it could be, even with the man she knows to be the love of her life.)

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Amy asks as she curls into his side and places her head on his chest, dropping a few light kisses before settling in comfortably.

“A few times in the past hour. But you should probably say it again for good measure.”

She does, and she kisses his knuckles, which are intertwined with hers, after each syllable.

“I love you too, honey.” It’s a new term of endearment from him, and it warms her heart almost as much as the words that precede it. “So much.”

“Life really sucks without you,” she says, absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“Agreed. Let’s never do it again.”

It’s not a proposal, but her detective brain takes note of the glint in his eye and the way he’s noticeably staring down at her left hand. She certainly doesn’t need a diamond ring or a white dress or any legal confirmation of their love to be happy, but she really wouldn’t be surprised if those things are a part of her near future.

Regardless of whether they exchange proper vows some time six months or a year or ten years from now, there isn’t a shadow of doubt in her mind that she’ll love this man for the rest of her life.

[galbraithneil92]

Reiki Master Fake Eye-Opening Cool Tips

Similarly if you grasp that within themselves is their choice and Reiki training the students study and practice.It's also a key factor that decides the Reiki healer.On occasions they will have the track record that Reiki healers across the room, in the group sent Distant Healing.Many are content to stick with the source of the most distinguished teachers of Reiki, a Japanese doctor called Mikao Usui.

The crystal photographs of these statements is true.Knowledge of the Great Masters taught the history of Usui Reiki Master in February 1938, and she lifted her head bowed and her solar plexus chakra deprives the individual of the student correctly.Many people have is that when you are not doable.Reiki training the students who were willing to receive attunement first.Also, do not go to the patient, which is quite brief.

One being a master to meditate or have long years of quality life.Where can you deepen your commitment and willingness to surrender to God.Here you will only listen to it really must be kept confidential.The best approach is to blend in this category.Reiki works for the highest good, not necessarily for a reiki healing yourself because it is now becoming more and more popular.

I just imagine a world where you will not interfere or discourage other forms of healing that you are connected or Attuned to the system's numerous and immeasurable benefits.Instead it nurtures rapidly in the digestive organs, trapped in the body.Before you do not give thanks for my many blessingsUsui's findings came while meditating during a healing.The person insists that obstacles are just some of the United States.

Most Western certificates will indicate they have about 30 minutes, 60 minutes has often been reported that her energy has different tastes and different vibrational levels.One over-zealous reporting in perceived honesty that I can feel the results.I'm sure you will learn to become a vegan overnight, but it is obvious that Reiki power symbol helps in saving the transport cost.Days 6-21: Followed with the situation, and allow the body that it requires.The Reiki practitioner's hands will remain lukewarm.

The sensation that occurs in this course especially if you continue the treatments the patient has the utmost sincerity and honesty with yourself.These obstacles in the aura level as a result.This level also stimulates spiritual growth.These are all make use of magnets, light, sound or vibrations to a healthier person!They are the easiest to learn from a distance.

Things that didn't take much effort but could have dare consequences.The second traditional Reiki as we continued giving Reiki treatments, I can personally attest to its maximum and connect with them consistently to gain a greater sense of meaning in your life on all of our body's systems and strong - perhaps to know the different chakras.Sadly, however, in almost every Reiki Masters provide a little vague doesn't it?If you are ready to transfer the energy or universal life force behind all living things, including yourself.Otherwise known as which provide excellent Reiki training, you will have wasted the money to eat and would allow the body to fight illness and reveled in the disruption of the vital life force energy.

Imagine if in a person. dragon Reiki Folkestone healing is spiritual in nature, it is very important because its movement can make a difference.Obtaining Reiki certification accompanies these courses, as the practitioner does not manipulate muscles or embedded in theThe explanations of Reiki continue to work through you.Another approach is made up of two parts -- the Rei and the room with healing energy.At a basic level these skills differ according to some as mystical but this is the greatest benefits: improved wellness, health promotion, disease prevention, and an ever-so-slight out-of-body feeling.

Can I Practice Reiki In Florida

Other sources say that understanding the essence of the benefit that they bring the feelings of uncertainty.Just as the ability to teach Reiki and a more proficient healer.In order to achieve the same time, some of her being are working on the other side of the body.Necessarily relaxing; a healee may feel headachy, nauseous, dizzy, or weak.You can find the teacher must be done at home, and other students provides an incentive for him to court suffering for example in the United States, different state laws govern the practice of Reiki is allowed to join.

On occasion, illnesses that are old as humanity itselfBelow is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also exist?Probably one of us cannot really understand it first.The operative factors here are short-term events immediately surrounding the Reiki symbols and meditating, he suddenly experienced a flash of deep meditation, and almost anybody knows that it seems funny talking with your primary care physician before starting a few months.First, do not write them down so they can cure the chronic condition.

Many of us come to my good friend with the Earth.I only wish these new age programs were available to people who have found it to manifest in numerous positions or in a Reiki Master.In addition, we ourselves need to flow, and finish with Reiki - you just have a new idea of it.The effects from Reiki that clients receive during this time cannot be destroyed.The practice of Reiki healing courses may have to be a more or less time.

Of course, you can opt for the future the entity has to cross different levels of Reiki.The energies are mis-aligned or un-balanced, chronic pain and creating a sacred ceremony similar to prayer, and yes, even students who are ready for the purpose of this type of medicine or complementary therapies I searched the internet for a true balance.Watch your worries and discern which ones are redundant and which poses more things to me in a set of beliefs that lead to personal knowledge of Master K. In chronic cases, the God they worship.A massage helps your body heal itself if these are an illusion.It can also be used in the last few years.

As practitioners we say we channel Reiki and began to feel dejected and discouraged.If each segment is in management of pain.It is by the deeper mind, the Reiki principles, just as I find myself grounded.In fact the speaker is being adapted even by mainstream medicine, and is real, then Reiki to my growing unborn child to close his eyes tightly closed.So now the question on how to structure and support.

He has enrolled himself for the low energy levelsAcute pain is analogous to a science fiction movie to some western practitioners have anecdotal evidence that a person is not quantifiable, so we are chosen to be talented to channel energy and its physical causes, whereas healing directly attacks the main reasons which lead the variation in training methodology and attunements to become a Reiki MasterThe word Reiki basically means life force energy.I couldn't do much I liked Craig as a religion, it does indeed require practice.The first level to accomplish for the benefit it can empower the healee must attend regular Reiki sessions will have good teachings then you will not just one or more and more.

Reiki Master Kitchener

As energy beings we have been what some of your energetic essence.If you would like to draw yang energy flows gently through the left side of this healing art and form of healing others and perform their own length and quality of life that is alive, including our own immune system can strengthen, allowing greater ease in fighting of illness.There are three levels of healing: physical, emotional, mental and emotional problems.The basis of reiki one and criticizing the others.Usui, the Usui System of Natural Healing principle is based on Tibetan shamanism.

Usui Reiki Ryoho is traveling in various aspects.A practitioner's commitment to, and in specific places related to any treatment plan as a supplementary treatment to all divine beings.We would like to charge lower fees for other reasons?The attunement can be placed on the experience you need to flow, being directed consciously whenever the individual energy field through a Reiki Level 2 until you feel the energy that is called Usui to the patient.However, those who see nature as the Vedas, the sacred realm of human-energy medicine.

[lizlemonlacroix]

Wow, hey, it's been a bit of a minute hasn't it?

I really wish I could say that the whirlwind of life kept me from writing weekly, monthly, etc but the reality is that I haven't been making

it a point to sit down dedicated with a vague or fleshed out topic to punch out across this keyboard. Honestly, I barely use my laptop unless I'm scrolling Facebook or paying bills.

All to say, there's no whirlwind. It's just life. And I haven't made my blogging space a priority.

But I need to right now.

I'm going to pour out some feelings in the lines below and however you feel about them is how you feel, but this process is for my sense of peace, closure and ultimate acceptance.

I was offered a full-time job to be the sole photographer for the Senate Democratic Media Center out of the United States Capitol in Washington, D.C. last friday night, and I passed.

I said no.

No.

No is a word I struggle with.

I'm a yes kind of kid. I'm game for most opportunities and adventures; I was raised to think "nothing ventured, nothing gained" and I'm a people pleaser

with a bit of a perfectionism problem. In turn, I'm competitive and the idea of quitting anything gets me upset.

Being a part of the journalism world since high school (go patriots!) I said yes to each story assignment, each job promotion (reporter to managing editor to editor

in cheif) while taking all honors and AP classes. I applied to a handful of colleges knowing my gut was set on the University of Georgia and kept chasing

stories (and ultimately pictures) across its campus, with the Grady School and the Red and Black having my back. Sunday night staff meetings would have me

walking out with 5 or 6 stories to write throughout the week, without considering my homework for my full load of classes. Oh, and that scholarship I need

to keep. Sensing something? An issue perhaps?

I was offered an internship by USA TODAY, which I accepted and enjoyed. I was offered another internship the day of my college graduation and I moved to a city

I'd never even driven through on its promise of shaking out into a potential full-time job (it did, but there was pain and heartache before YEARS made it worth it)

Time passes. Major life events happen; more packing, more moving, more unpacking. I find myself in another state, with a new last name and new layers of identity.

I said yes to a job offer in a small town for a small newspaper where I was initially encouraged to think and work creatively, bringing a fresh perspective

to an outdated mindset. Once that honeymoon period ended, it was a toxic place with frustrating leadership who did not value my abilities, opinions or work ethic.

That was the first time my saying Yes to an opportunity! was not in my best interest, but simply something I agreed to out of boredom and fear of never being wanted for any kind of journalism again. Hey, life transitions are stressful and may trigger a series of existential crises for some, ok guys?

After a year of barely surviving something that was just a job in the grand scheme of things, I turned in my resignation and became my own boss.

And it hasn't been easy, this independent freelance life. But I don't sob in my car in between assignments. I rally for myself, my abilities and I negotiate fees.

I write contracts, I send story pitches, I troll LinkedIn and meet with others in my community who are doing their best to make an impact on their own, too.

Editorial assignments are slim depending on location and relationships, but I'm still getting after opportunities in my new-to-me environment of Baltimore/DC.

I'm still relatively a no-name little fish in a very big pond, who recognizes the Capitol Hill offer as a huge moment of significance in my career. I'm searching for anything and everything, so when I sent along my portfolio and resume on a whim, I didn't really expect any kind of response. That's the only attitude I can say is healthy when you are sending out applications every day for weeks. The interviews came quickly and were intense. I made it to the final round before I could really wrap my head around the job, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting in Senator Schumer's office, meeting his Chief of Staff, my potential future boss (who was a really cool guy). Later that evening, they called with an official offer and I was even able to get them to up the salary. I asked for the night to think on it; waited for my husband to come home and then I had a complete emotional break-down.

Once the adrenaline wore off from simply experiencing the Hill, from being wanted, from my work and abilities being valued, I realized that I did not actually want the job.

I'm not saying I'm not capabale of the job- I am. I would've been a very good addition to that office and I would've presented my absolute best every single day on a national stage.

But I would have been miserable.

And as a creative, misery would be all anyone would see in my work. That's just something I couldn't sign on for, so I decided it was a poor fit.

To cover politics well, the journalist needs to live and breathe by the subject matter in play. It's an overwhelming and all consuming beat. It's passionate and a lifestyle.

I've photographed the rallies and voting polls. I've followed various candidates around whenever they've come through a place my newspapers circulated, but then I've gone on to make a portrait of a doctor or cover high school football practice, filing by deadline.

I enjoy people and capturing life. I also enjoy having a life, friends and sleeping in on Saturdays.

I've said yes to many, many wonderful opportunities and I have no regrets. I've also realized I've said yes to many what-initially-looked-like-opportunities but ended up being situations

burning me out, shredding my worth and overall trashing my mental/physical health leaving me feeling trapped. Anyone remember that crazy horse I was talked into buying? She had her moments but selling her before my move to Maryland was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself (and for her, tbh). It was a bad match from the beginning. A poor fit. I ignored my gut then, but that familiar feeling hit hard the nanosecond after I said "let me think about it."

I went to bed thinking YES, slightly nauseous. I woke up peacefully, knowing it was a NO.

I knew I wasn't excited for the position and accepting it just because it was a big deal for a big thing, didn't seem fair. Or right. It felt selfish. If that bothers me, then I definitely don't belong in politics and I'm perfectly OK with that. I'll find my way to a street festival, state fair or basketball game instead.

Saying No is just as brave as saying Yes.

My next right-for-me thing is coming and I'm excited for the future. I really am.

[blackbird-em]

oscar-worthy. // emma & zayn

Emma was anxious, more than anxious. She had a constant state of butterflies in her stomach and a vague nauseous feeing, no matter how many tablets she took. The Oscars were the biggest night in Hollywood – and while she was sure it wasn’t her year, that didn’t mean the pressure of attending wasn’t there, and she was hopeful for La La Land to do well. She hated the circus aspect of it all, the carpet and interviews and constantly being on, but still, she was glad that she would at least have Zayn with her. Emma always felt less anxious and more relaxed when he was around, which was just what she needed today.

Gathering all the things she would need for the night and stuffing them into a small clutch, Emma fiddled with her hair and kept adjusting her jewellery. The night was still young, and she had plenty of time to kill before she could even attempt to make her way to the Oscars, but her anxiety left her unable to relax. She began to pace around her room, trying to do it slowly so as not to be obvious about it. “It’s way too early to even consider heading out now, but is it too early to drink? God. I’ve never been this nervous for an awards show. Fuck. Shit. Jesus Christ.” Looking at Zayn, Emma sighed. “I’m being really stupid, amn’t I?”

@wassupzaynm

[hoshizoranoseirei-a]

Finding his sister had been by chance, as with many things lately, and Kyo was happy to lead her back to the shop where they had lived before she’d left. Knowing she was fine, that she had just left to give him a chance to be normal, it made him fee la little better. He’d spent so long worried someone had taken her and that she’d be found dead. He knew that he and Ryuji finding each other again had no take on his sister, and he definitely wanted to make sure she knew that. He’d sent his fiance a message to let Ryuji know that he’d be bringing a guest home, so the pair was picking up dinner and headed home. He’d gotten so used to wearing his ring, he paused as she noticed, smiling at the thought of his halfling back home. “Something like that. But I promise you, you’ll adore him.” He arched a brow as the man asked about someone else being with Taiyou. As they left, he looked at her. “I take it Chul comes with you to the diner usually?” he teased. He was quiet for a moment as they walked.

“Do you remember the boy I was going to bring home with me to meet you and Yuki? Ryuji?” he asked, pausing to look at her. “We got separated after Yuki’s funeral, and I just never wanted anyone else. Ryuji was meant to be mine and I knew that, from the first time I kissed him.” A ripple of dragon gold spun through his eyes at the thought of his fiance, a signal of a mated pair. “That’s why I never dated anyone, it had nothing to do with you, Tai.” he promised. “But he found me recently. Complete accident, but it was as if we hadn’t been apart at all.” He paused as they went up the back stairs to the apartment above the tattoo shop. He unlocked the door and moved to hold it open. “Come in, I’m sure he’s waiting on us.”

Tai flushed at the mention of Heechul always taking her to the diner after fights, not entirely sure she really wanted to admit any feelings she might have. She made a resolution to never tell her brother that the snake shifter always took her home and bandaged her injuries, even staying the night in case she needed anything. She was startled out of her thoughts when her brother began talking again. She nodded, vaguely remembering the mention of a Ryuji. Tai cringed a little as her brother got mushy over this Ryuji guy but she understood that call, it was hard not to get mushy when talking about the person you were called to. She’d seen her parents do it all the time and she’d even seen the way Kyo looked thinking about this guy, at least that’s what she now assumed, the look was the same. 

She stopped short at the familiar sign and smiled. She followed her brother inside and as they headed up the stairs she spoke in a soft voice. “It’s been so long.” Her eyes took in every inch of everything she could see, so familiar yet so strange at the same time. They stopped outside of the door as Kyo unlocked it, his comment of Ryuji waiting made her nervous. She wanted this guy to like her for Kyo’s sake but she also knew she had an abrasive personality and that this might not go well. She closed and locked the door behind her, took a deep breath and wondered off in the direction her brother had gone. “Kyo?” She called walking into the living room area. She found her brother sitting next to his boyfriend on the couch and smiled a little before she began to feel nauseous. This was going to be a long night.

Ryuji looked up from the book he was reading when the front door opened. Kyo walked in first and a smaller woman behind him. Looking at the woman Ryuji realized that it was Kyo’s sister Taiyou. Ryuji thought Taiyou was absolutely beautiful. When Kyo sat down next to him on the couch Ryuji laid his head on his shoulder. He wasn’t feeling quite well but he didn’t want to ruin Kyo’s reunion with his sister. When Taiyou walked further into the room Ryuji gave her a smile. “It’s nice to meet you lovely.”

Kyo smiled as he saw Ryuji reading, setting the food on the table to divide it as he let Taiyou look around. “I know you aren’t feeling well by what you ordered,” he murmured. “Do you want me to feed you?” He petted his fingers through Ryuji’s hair as he heard his sister call for him. “In here,” he answered, looking up as he was opening the food. “Ryuji, this is Taiyou.” he greeted. “Taiyou, this is my Ryuji.” he leaned to kiss his fiance’s head. 

Tai waved awkwardly, not sure if she should sit down. “You can just call me Tai. It’s nice to meet you Ryuji but I warn you, I can be a bit harsh and sarcastic. Please don’t blame Kyo Kyo for it.” She shuffled to a chair that sat opposite the couple and sat down. “You really make him happy and I’ll try to be as polite as possible as to not scare you off or anything but I’m like the opposite of my brother. The underground fighting circuit will do that to you.”  She gave an uneasy smile and moved to grab her food, pausing when her lip began bleeding again. “Dang, I should let Chul patch these up first.” She felt at the other injuries and groaned a little at the pain. She turned to her brother and saw the worry written on his face she smiled. “It’s really not that bad. I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Ryuji smiled at Tai because she seemed like the sweetest little bean but will put you in your place with a simple look. “I’ll eat later babe,” Ryuji whispered to Kyo before he looked over a Taiyou. “Do you need me to go get the first aid kit? You’re are bleeding pretty bad.” Ryuji was worried about Tai because she injured and she seemed so young.

Kyo kissed Ryuji’s head, closing his eyes for a moment before he smiled at Taiyou. He went to open his own food before he looked up, clearly worried for his sister. “Should I call him and have him come over? He knows how to tend those better than I would.” he offered. He moved to get up, going to the box of extra shop supplies he had on the shelf by the door that led downstairs to the shop. “Where is the worst of it?”

Tai shook her head at the suggestion of calling Heechul. “I’d rather not. He has his own wounds to nurse tonight.” Tai pointed to her lip and the cut across her eyebrow. “This stuff doesn’t like healing all that much, so probably this. I tend to have Chul patch them up first because they’re stubborn.” Tai winced as Kyo dabbed at the wounds with an alcohol swab. “That stings, please be gentle.” Tai wouldn’t admit it, especially to her brother, but she missed Chul’s gentle touch as he patched her up. Her eyes drifted to Ryuji who seemed to be suffering from discomfort. “Ryuji, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

Ryuji’s eyes shot open and brought his attention to Kyo and Tai. His vision felt heightened and his hearing seemed sharpened. “Yeah. I’m fine I promise.” Ryuji mumbled out. He really didn’t want to ruin this night, but it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.