#Brooklyn Hospital Center

[worldaidsday]

HIV/AIDS: Meeting Unmet Needs in Treatment and Prevention.

A panel discussion organized by DGC/Civil Society in observance of World AIDS Day (1 December).

This event will bring together representatives from civil society, health practitioners, specialists, and the UN system at the forefront of meeting the unmet needs of those with HIV/AIDS and those who could be potentially exposed.

The discussion will highlight the current state of HIV/AIDS globally, key obstacles that have been preventing those who need care from getting it, and how to overcome those obstacles and meet the treatment and prevention needs of those living with or potentially exposed to HIV on an individual, community, state, and global level. Featured speakers will share their experiences and give insight into the session theme.  

Speakers:

Raymond Ayala, Medical Case Manager, Path, The Brooklyn Hospital Center.

Nkwenti Guedem Edwige, Nurse Practitioner and HIV Specialist.

Emma Kaplan-Lewis, Clinical Quality Director HIV Services at NYC Health and Hospitals.

Toyin Falusi Nwafor, MD, Senior Medical Director, HIV Prevention at ViiV Healthcare.

Antonio Urbina, MD, Mount Sinai; Associate Professor of Medicine, Icahn School of Medicine. 

[scrollsofhumanlife]

Dorene Constancia "Consie" Johnson's ID card at the Brookdale Hospital Medical Center in Brooklyn

Born June 3 1934 in Bellas Gate, Saint Catherine Parish, Jamaica

Palm Bay, Florida

[wikipediapictures]

Trauma surgery

“Picture of one of the trauma bays Kings County Hospital Center in Brooklyn, NY.” - via Wikimedia Commons

[infiniteglitterfall]

Palestinians to platform, part 1

مؤمن الناطور / Moumen Al-Natour

@MoumALnatour

رئيس الشباب الفلسطيني للتنمية / President of Palestinian Youth for Development

Moumen Al-Natour is amazing. Not only does he run a Palestinian youth organization that is doing great work in Gaza, but he's also one of the organizers of the 2019 anti-Hamas protests.

Even to criticize Hamas, in Gaza, means to be interrogated, and potentially jailed, tortured, and/or killed. To actively protest Hamas is many times more dangerous.

To have survived that work and continued doing it? I cannot imagine the emotional strength this dude has.

Here's what Center for Peace Communications (another great organization) has said about him:

So many Palestinians, in or from Palestine, are out there talking about what everyday life in Gaza is like. About Hamas, about Israel, about what they want and what they need, about their struggles and their interests and their families.

My goal, in finding people for you to follow and platform, is to help more voices get out of Gaza after years of suppression, and to help more outsiders (like me) connect with them.

People care SO MUCH about Palestine. But frequently, all there is to share is outrage, semi-accurate news, and more outrage. Frequently, we're not calling for the same things they are. We call for a ceasefire; they demand Hamas return the hostages and surrender. We call for Israel to let aid in; they say Israel is letting the aid in, but it's being stolen, and call for air drops rather than trucks. We call for Israel to stop fighting; they say they hope Israel takes Hamas out first.

We aren't centering their voices and experiences. We aren't lending our reach and our strength to their demands.

I want to make that possible.

Ala Mushtaha, the son of this imam, evidently said, “On Saturday December 30, our front door was busted down and twenty masked men barged in and took my father, a widely respected and deeply learned imam here in Gaza."

“One dragged him by his head and another grabbed him by his beard. My younger brother tried to intervene and reason with the kidnappers, but they beat him. I have a medical condition that makes it hard for me to breathe, so all I could do was watch as the horror unfolded.

“He wouldn’t preach what Hamas told him to. He refused to tell Gazans that violent resistance and obedience to Hamas, is the best way out of our current hell.”

ok this dude needs his own post honestly, he goes on to say so much intense stuff about their lives.

OMG his dad was actually released!

This is what I'm talking about. This is effective activism. Imagine what all these people could do if they had the entire global pro-Palestinian movement behind them.

Al-Natour posts a fair amount of political commentary.

The "we want to live" hashtag is a callback to the amazing "We Want To Live" protests he co-organized against Hamas, in Gaza in 2019, and again in the summer of 2023. Activist Hamida Howidzy (who will also be getting a separate post) wrote about them in Newsweek recently.

Some things he posts in Arabic and then in English. Some of his posts are in Arabic only. In the thread above, he actually posted a couple more that were just in Arabic, presumably aimed at Arabic-language comments.

What I like about Twitter is that you can whack the "translate post" button and get a pretty decent translation most of the time.

Translation:

"I saw all the responses... What is wrong and forbidden in reuniting the West Bank, Gaza and Jerusalem through elections in which the people choose who will represent them??!?? Why are all the responses offensive...a collaborator, a traitor, and contain insults that indicate that whoever wrote them needs restructuring?! What prevents us, after ending the war, from returning our choice and choice to the Palestinian people?!+

"Everyone wrote that I opened??!! how did you know???!! Stopping the war is the most important thing now... Whoever sees the condition of the people and feels all this is easy for him does not have humanity, and is not a human being... Whoever, after the destruction of more than 80% of Gaza and the North, and still writing in a way that wants the war to continue while he lives abroad, should reconsider. He accepted to live the same suffering!++"

Note: I copied the "I opened" bit and threw it into Google Translate separately, because that cannot be right. It still insisted that it meant "I opened".... but it gave me the transliterated words, "ani fatah."

Everyone wrote that he's Fatah -- the party that runs the West Bank, the one Hamas violently kicked out of Gaza in 2007-08.

"The end of my speech... I know... whoever is not with you is a traitor and an agent... shameful... by God, by God, by God... there will be an account[ing] for all of this talk... so that you understand the word agent... and the account will be through a government of law... It is clear that there are many who benefit from the poverty and destruction of Gaza, and they must be held accountable according to the law.

"Have mercy on people with your tongues"

The comment on that one is noteworthy:

"Yes, whoever is not with the resistance is indeed a traitor, and those who must be held accountable are the traitors, agents, hypocrites, liars, and racists who slander the resistance and who want to hold it accountable only because it fights the enemy of humanity and defends truth and the oppressed. If you want to apply the law, apply it to yourselves first."

It highlights how much of what we hear in the West is Hamas propaganda. That's a whole other post too. But Hamas claims to be "the resistance," to "defend truth and the oppressed," while arresting people who refuse to preach its propaganda. While jailing and torturing someone 20 times for organizing a protest.

Which are the exact tactics that make it so easy for their propaganda to reach us . And so hard for us to even know that there has been an entire protest movement against Hamas in Gaza, much less to support its activists.

I'll just cut and paste the translations from his most recent thread, above. All emphasis is mine:

"When demonstrations took place in Israel demanding that Netanyahu stop the war and free the hostages, Al Jazeera and Hamas considered it a victory and an achievement, and that the Israeli government was under pressure. But what is striking is that these demonstrations were not suppressed. They were secured. The hostage issue and public pressure were dealt with professionally.

"The demonstrations that took place in Gaza demanding an end to the war and the return of the displaced...they were classified as suspicious [by Al Jazeera etc] ...even though the displaced Israeli lives in a 5-star hotel and has the privileges of the displaced, and when the Palestinian displaced in Gaza receives help, he needs a mediator, and if he wants a tent, he needs leadership intervention, and if he does not have the mediator And the intervention wants to scratch his pocket..+++

"Why did Israel allow demonstrations and look pressured, always trying to contain everything... while we have a displaced person lost, homeless, and no one is trying to contain him, and when he talks, they call him a fifth column???"

Last month, he posted about pregnancy in wartime. Note the cost of the tent later in this thread! Numerous Palestinians have posted about humanitarian aid getting stolen -- by Hamas, by NGOs, by others -- and sold on the black market. Food and tents especially get mentioned a lot. Everyone mentions the tents are being sold for more than (the equivalent of) $700, even though they were supposed to be free.

I'll leave you with this one for now:

You can read all the posts in this series in my "platform palestine" tag.

[jinxziie]

my world is finally comin together !! loooong post incoming!! some info: I use Belladonna Cove (in case u want it idk :P) because I loved Sims 2 Apartment Life sm omg! it was literally my childhood, and that world was my fave. It had the BEST vibes, and I knew I needed a flat world with lots of streets and a good layout. She was the one! I did try to use tons of other worlds. The first one I obviously tried to redo was Bridgeport, but it would always crash on me. My PC also crashes when I try to use Boroughsburg ;-;. So, I had to just do it myself. BUT I do use tons of Boroughsburg items. Without that stuff, I couldn’t even be doing this, so thanks to all the CC creators who made those items and everything. It really is a game changer! I guess my world is just v loosely based off of downtown Brooklyn & places like Bayridge. Prospect Park n Bushwick idrk LOL i said LOOSELY **keep note that i have lots of unfinished builds and tons of terrain paint i need to update! i suck at completely finishing one build i kinda go back n forth between them.

map view & the layout i chose to go with

idk if that's confusing LOL my bad gonna go from left to right:

this is around the corner on the top left

my brownstone street (all the old terrain paint i need to change lol its everywhere lol i changed my mind on it midway smh)

this street is where i have these builds:

Middle part w all the rabbitholes! (corner stores,gym,cafes,diners,pet store,hospital,business centers)

^^ empty lot across the street from the movie theater, prob gonna put more apartments w stores underneath

across the other street from the movie theater lot on the left (this is confusing) where the park is --closeup of the park bcus i love it and it reminds me of all of the parks i been to as a kid ;-;

Across the street from the park

further down

that area is a mess rn but it has all of these builds

I think that's about everything! I might've missed a few thingss she looks absolutely beautiful i cannot believe 3 yrs ago she was completely empty clearly have a lot more to do but this is how she looks currentlyy thanks so much for bein interested in my project n downloading my builds it means so MUCH.

♡♡♡ HUGE ty to cc creators again, couldnt do any of this withoutt the amazin cc ♡♡♡

[sevenpoyo]

MILES G. MORALES CURRENT STUDENT INVOLVEMENT FILE

>LOG IN CONFIRMED >LOG IN TIME RECORDED >HELLO . >GUEST STAFF!< Notes for new office staff• •OOD- out of dorm. •All updated files will appear italicized until the new information can be confirmed and encrypted properly! Let’s all work hard to have a good year! —————————————————————— Let’s work as a team to keep our files and records secure and up to date! Double encrypt ALL files not related to regulatory procedures. Thank you! —Your Visions Brooklyn branch office staff♡!

Miles G. Morales

Currently a student of Future Visions Private Academy for the preparation of the practically and speculatively advanced, or, the last light of Brooklyn as some call it.

Miles doesn’t call it that.

Miles G. Morales, is a student at Future Visions Private Academy that some teachers don’t particularly enjoy having.

In true clarity, the majority of his instructor at Visions Academy for the Technically and Practically skilled do not like Miles Morales. 

And in their very socially esteemed opinion, he doesn’t make himself easy for them to like,

not when his uncle picks him up from a class of checks him out of his dorm at least twice a week, for reasons only cited as, “bonding activities”

or when he’s ahead in his work, but distracted or even disinterested in their classes, like he has something better to do.

or when the head of the English department is convinced that he’s sneaking out and his roommate and best friend is covering for him, though, he has no conclusive proof.

Still, it’s a point to be mentioned.

or when, most offensive of all, when desperate all this he’s easily outclassing their best, their legacy students, 

These students whose families have oh so generously donated club rooms and gyms to the school.

It’s absurd really, these students have been training to be the best, training to keep people like him in their proper place in the social order. he’s supposed to be one of those people that are smart enough to use, 

but for some reason it’s as if he’s read that version of his story, carved in stone, created from the day he was born or the day he became who he are, or whenever, and in some insane, incalculable bid of rebellion, he’s spray painted over it.

But, the words are still on the stone under his colorful, creative rebellion,

And maybe his fate can’t be changed.

maybe no ones can be.

FILE UNLOCKED!

GENERAL STUDENT INFO

NAME- Miles G. Morales

CURENT GRADE LEVEL- 10

CLASS SCHEDULE- currently unentered due to re-enrollment issues.

BEHAVIORAL RECORDS - N/A

TRUANCY RECORDS - Chronically absent, not currently a candidate for any teacher/guardian involvement.

VISIONS SCHOLAR LOG

Enrolled as one of Brooklyn’s 2022 lottery students. 

maintained grades to hold lottery enrollment 

Currently dormmed part time, should be making plans to transfer full time.

FRESHMAN YEAR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES- N/A

SOPHOMORE YEAR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES- Engineering and Technology/ Robotics Comp • mandatory OOD student participation

GUARDIAN SIGN IN/OUT LIST

Rio Morales— mother PRIMARY CONTACT

cell-********** work-**********-4221 (hospital extension)

Aaron Davis—paternal uncle

OTHER/PERSONAL NOTES

Nothing of note personal

some transfer files in correctly marked as Wiles, please disregard.

FILE END

make sure to save updates and inform I.T.!

BYE BYE!!-☆♪

I know Miles G. Probably doesn’t go to visions bc the whole burning and overrun city thing but I like school settings in fics and visions is such an underused setting for e-42 world building. I swear someone could cook with this and it’s gonna have to be me because if no one else will I’m gonna write what I wanna read. Haven’t decided 100% when I’ll introduce a reader but if I do it’ll switch between being centered on miles and the reader.

[hitlikehammers]

taste like loving

rating: t ♥️ cw: pre-relationship-to-established relationship, SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: idiots in love, pickles, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day seven: Love Is Silently Passing Them A Pickle Because You Know It’s Their Favorite (@steddieasitgoes)

@pearynice and @hbyrde36 suffered my languishing over this more than once; it felt wrong to delete it (which was the original plan) 🥒 (and yes I am well aware this is VERY late for @steddielovemonth but I had this one and one more that I never got to post bc schedules and I still wanted to...not-delete them? so the other one will go up sometime before the 29th's over worldwide) ♥️

The first time he notices is the first time they all hang out after he’s discharged. The first time it feels almost normal. Eddie’s still not mobile enough to leave the couch at most—at least a little variety of the one-room view of his bedroom, at least—but this.

This is awesome. Because there’s no hospital to remind him of the way he’s a mishmash of still-healing incisions that he can ignore if he doesn’t move wrong, or breathe to deep, and when he does breathe to deep and reminds himself it’s for laughing, it’s a raucous and joyful thing and it’s wild in a way he never knew he was missing because—or else, he thinks because—probably there wasn’t a deep pit inside him full of all the horrors they saw and stood against together, and so he’s got this new capacity to be bowled over and filled past the brim with a kind of giddy, buoyant relief that’s unbound in ways he probably didn’t dare to even tease at, despite all his ranting about conformity and letting your fucking freak flag fly: he never could have envisioned a time he could be this unbound. Untethered.

Just…fucking free.

Because these people have seen his literal fucking insides, right? One of them held those insides in his hands, held them where they belonged long enough for him to be sitting here cackling with them, aching for the jostling of his laughter but hell if it’s not worth it, if he pops a stitch or two he won’t even fucking complain because these people saw him inside-out, y’know, and from the first he felt safe with them, with all of him, spoken and unspoken because it really felt, for the first time, like all of the things that mattered to the world at large, that could get you killed in the wrong company: it all felt…dulled; distant, after what he’d seen.

What he’d survived.

So in the now: home, on the couch, with the Buckley and Harrington tag-team feature show splitting his fucking sides and making him feel like he’s drowning in only good things and breathing full for the first time in his fucking life—

That’s when he first notices it happen.

They’re opening the boxes with deli sandwiches from Leeanne’s down off Brooklyn, the big towering fuckers with the toothpicks in the center to hold them together, and Eddie’s fucking ecstatic about the Reuben he’s staring down because real-not-hospital-cafeteria food is still an honest goddamn thrill, but he sees Steve flip open his monstrous looking Club and it’s not even all the way flipped back, the top half of the little foldy-box, when Robin slips her equally-big-ass dill spear next to the one lined up against the bread of Steve’s lunch, flashing an overstretched grin as she plops it down:

“For my Dingus,” she nods to him almost graciously and he chuckles before he picks it up and chomps it almost…almost aggressivelyand yes, okay, fine: Eddie notices because he pays attention to his friends, especially some of his very best friends, but yeah, sure, he probably notices Steve’s biting enough to characterize it because, well.

And look, see: after Steve had set himself up as permanent guardian at his bedside?Eddie might not have had all the reasons for it, all the answers to the whys, but he did have Steve Harrington in the flesh beside him always, kinda day and night, and after that? Eddie had stopped telling himself it was useless, the things he was feeling, all the relentless want in him. It might still be hopeless—just because he knew now that Steve swung that nail bat for both teams didn’t mean he’d want Eddie specifically by default—but there was no harm in feeding the deathless little lust-monster that’d lived in him from sophomore year, and that now, fed by the knowledge that Steve Harrington was beauty and brawn and brains in a way no one never expected because it wasn’t theirs, all on top of a heart of fucking 

: the monster was now a full-grown beast that wasn’t…just prone to lust, anymore.

Whatever, though. Eddie could fucking look.

So he noticed the way Robin gave Steve her pickles. The way he playfully accepted and usually leaned into her, grateful and tactile in their shared-brain kind of way.

And if he keeps noticing, what the fuck else is he expected to do? The more he learns, the closer they grow, the stronger and bigger and louder his not-lust creature gets, its stomping like a riot in his pulse save no, that’s actually just his heartbeat for what it is: hopelessly and pathetically and godawfully smitten, kinda recklessly and unrepentantly devoted, and he…

Okay, so in the beginning, Eddie knows it’s a long shot. He knows what he was doing, but it’s easy to play off as something…less. Something just playful, instead of playful-and. He already sits next to Steve when they’re all together, on a floor or a sofa or in a booth: he’s expected there. That is his place. One side him, one side Robin.

Robin even takes across-from-Steve when there aren’t enough spaces. Eddie has somehow…made the cut.

He isn’t throwing a fucking party inside his ribs about it or anything, but.

(Yeah, he is.)

But it starts small, and sorta-almost-casual: when he pops his pickle on Steve’s plate the first time. And Steve blinks at him, tilts his head in that way Eddie associates with softness, with safety, with something so adorably protective, cute and yet let herbal, on alert while breathing slow: and there’s something irresistible in the dichotomy of it that has Eddie’s pulse ramping-up by instinct at just the little gesture, the little tip of the chin and then Steve’s grinning, slow but so big, and at him, and, okay. Okay, yes, fine.

Eddie may or may not be playing this like one of those fucking birds that brings pebbles to court their intended, that drops shining little bits and bobs of nothing special that mean everything special as they try to convince their mate they’re a good bet. It may or may not be a thing he should be at least a little embarrassed of, whatever.

The way Steve chomps with fucking gusto on that pickle though: the way he grins as he chews and keeps his eyes locked on Eddie’s the whole goddamn time?

Eddie’s not gonna be embarrassed of jack shit, if he gets that in exchange.

He’s also sure as shit not going to stop, when he gets that in exchange.

He tries to up his game as the gesture extends, expands: he does his best to make it clear that he fucking loves his beloved briny cucumbers, that the way he saves them and gifts them to Steve isn’t just mimicry of his platonic soulmate; that it’s deliberate and intentional and he’s willingly and willfully forgoing something he loves for something he loves—yeah, yeah he’s ready to say that, at least in his head, because the days turn to weeks turn to months and there’s no fucking denying it anymore—so very much more, and he just…wants to make sure Steve notices. Knows it and, like, whether he decides to act on it or not, Eddie just wants him to know that a choice was there to make, right? Like, he doesn’t want it to go unnoticed.

It’s only once Steve sucks half a spear through his lips, hollows his mouth wholly unnecessarily and positively sinfully, and puckers around the pickle with wide pleading but teasing, goddamn teasing eyes trained on Eddie expectantly with the bare half sticking out his mouth, an invitation from where he sits next to Eddie at the table: it’s only then that Eddie thinks maybe there was hope after all.

He bites the loose half clear just shy of brushing Steve’s lips because he’ll be damned if their first kiss—if this is where it’s headed, if this is really possible and a thing—he’ll be fucking damned if he kisses Steve Harrington for the first time over a fucking vegetable.

Given the way Steve’s lips ultimately close around a pout all on their own: Eddie thinks…yeah. Yeah, that’s where they’re headed.

Their first kiss is very much not-pickle-flavored, but they laugh about the almost of it, once they settle comfortably into a version of ‘we’ that’s not entirely unlike the one they had before; this one just says the love part out loud. Which honestly kind of highlights how much it was there, just unspoken, almost the whole goddamn time. Which is wild.

Then of course it grows. There’s always a jar of pickles on their shopping list, because there’s always a need when the last one’s always empty. Sometimes because he wanted something to eat in the middle of the night. Sometimes because he feeds a slice to Steve Lady and the Tramp style, and does lick the taste from him after, now, not because it isn’t momentous; kissing Steve. But more because it’s…it’s going to be momentous again, whenever he wants.

For, like, ever.

Though it’s carrying on in that fashion that kinda leads in to, about a year-and-change and going strong, Eddie getting his mind goddamn blown.

It starts, mostly, with Eddie thinking—mistakenly—that his boyfriend’s not gonna be late for dinner and honestly, Eddie just doesn’t want the spear to get all warm and floppy so he figures he’ll quick eat the ones he set out, cannot let a delicious pickle go to waste, and he’ll get a fresh one for the plates when Steve gets in, no problem, he’ll just—

He’s maybe almost fucking fellating the pickle when Steve clears his throat unexpectedly from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting?” the arch of his brow is enviable, and the giddy delight in his tone is delectable, and Eddie wants him to come over and kiss the fucking blush he feels just lightly heat his cheeks as he tries to decide what to do because…

Eddie’s never not given his pickle to Steve, or not shared his pickle with Steve, in Steve’s presence, okay? It’s just…that’s for Steve.

And Steve probably wouldn’t be grossed out with Eddie’s slobber all over it, but, like, he deserves better by default any—

Steve’s next to him before he fully notices him crossing the distance, and he’s nudging Eddie’s hand with just a finger, pressing the pickle past his lips, slow enough to chew but steady with the pressure, and hell if it’s not erotic as fuck.

Steve goddamn Harrington.

And he smirks when Eddie swallows with a gulp, leans to kiss him and comments kind of idly:

“That was hot, babe.”

Eddie huffs, and then looks at the pickle-less plates and remembers.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart, I’d have kept it for you, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be—“

“Eds, relax,” Steve laughs, unbothered; “you don’t have to save me the pickle. I buy you whole jars.”

Eddie frowns a little, because that wording sound…off. He’s not quite sure why, until Steve picks up on his confusion, the grit caught in the works that he can’t pick out, because Steve always notices; and Steve always finds the catch to smooth it clean.

He’s amazing that way.

“They’re your favorites,” he goes and grabs the jar in question from the fridge, pops the lid and meticulously catches the drip on the glass lip before offering it to Eddie with a smile so warm Eddie can feel it in his knees, because it fucking makes them melty and shit even now; he prays it’ll never stop making them melty and shit, honestly, but—

“I never even really liked them, until you.”

And that’s the part that catches Eddie up entirely, almost chokes him on the end of his hand-fed pickle feast.

“What,” he pauses, clears his throat; “what d’ya mean?”

“Robin fucking hates them,” Steve shrugs, still smiling that knee-targeting smile; “so she always pawned them off on me, and I didn’t have any strong feelings either way, but then,” he reaches, traces Eddie’s lips and gathering any stray juice before sucking his thumb between his lips to clean it off. Eddie almost fucking feels his pupils dilate.

“You know I wanted it to mean something from the beginning,” Steve says simply, because Eddie did know; “and then when I found out it wasn’t just, like, convenient, but you liked them so much yourself, then it felt,” and then Steve’s biting his lip, which is that knife’s edge between adorable and hot-hot-sex that regularly threatens to explode Eddie goddamn brain, but than he’s smiling again, a little softer, a lot more fond:

“It felt like they meant you liked me,” Steve ducks his head solely to glance through his lashes, a little bashful even still; “it felt like it maybe meant you, you know, maybe, like maybe you loved me?”

And Eddie can’t handle the question mark there, dives in and kisses Steve sound and sure and licks his way in to rub away that bit of punctuation that could ever possibly cast any doubt on Eddie’s feelings at basically any point they’ve shared fucking air.

“It tastes like that, now.”

Eddie cocks his head a little.

“What tastes like what, baby?”

Steve leans and licks into Eddie mouth again, but this time it’s got direction, like he’s seeking something, but then just as quick he pulls back, though not far, and looks up at Eddie with a little extra curl to his lips as he murmurs between them:

“I fucking adore pickles, now. Because they kinda taste like you loving me.”

And Jesus H., this man is gonna kill him.

And Eddie—who can do nothing less than capture Steve’s lips again and let him taste this particular flavor of loving as long and as deep as he wants—Eddie kinda thinks that’ll be a fucking glorious way to go.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[cartermagazine]

Today We Honor Dr.Josephine English

Dr. Josephine English was an American gynecologist who was the first black woman to open a private practice in New York. She was also known for her work in real estate and health care, in addition to her philanthropy towards the arts.

English was born on December 17, 1920 to Jennie English and Whittie Sr. in Ontario, Virginia. She moved to Englewood, New Jersey in 1939. Her family was one of the first black families in Englewood. She attended Hunter College for her bachelor’s degree until 1949, and earned her Master’s in Psychology at New York University. She initially wanted to become a psychiatrist, but ended up choosing gynecology after discovering her interest at Meharry Medical College where she earned her medical degree in gynecology.

Dr.Josephine English opened her practice at Harlem Hospital. Once in Brooklyn, she opened up a women’s health clinic in Bushwick in 1956, as well as another in Fort Greene two decades later. During her career, English helped deliver 6,000 babies, including the children of Malcolm X, Betty Shabazz, and Lynn Nottage.

English’s interest in health care lead her establish the Adelphi Medical Center and child care programs, such as Up the Ladder Day Care and After School Program. Her passion for theater led her to establish the Paul Robeson Theater from a dilapidated church. She helped actors create performances to educate the populace on health and nutrition.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[earlycuntsets]

mcr shows on youtube pt. 4 (2011 - 2023) last one :]

-> pt. 1 (2002 - 2005)

-> pt. 2 (2005 - 2007)

-> pt. 3 (2007 - 2011)

08/05/2011 pnc bank arts center holmdel nj - the academy is my beautiful romance

08/13/2011 hersheypark stadium hershey pa - the academy is my beautiful romance

08/20/2011 first midwest bank amphitheater tinley park il - the academy is my beautiful romance

08/26/2011 little john's farm reading england - em

08/31/2011 rogers arena vancouver canada - catie cunningham

09/03/2011 usana amphitheater west valley city utah - delaney nye

09/04/2011 comfort dental amphitheater greenwood village co - the academy is my beautiful romance

09/09/2011  capitol federal park at sandstone amphitheater bonner springs ks - the academy is my beautiful romance

09/11/2011 dte energy music theater clarkston mi - justanotherkilljoy

09/18/2011 farm bureau live at virginia beach va - the academy is my beautiful romance

09/20/2011 verizon wireless amphitheater charlotte nc - the academy is my beautiful romance

1/22/2012 gold coast parklands gold coast australia - the academy is my beautiful romance

02/03/2012 adelaide showground adelaide australia - the academy is my beautiful romance

02/05/2012 mccallum park perth australia - myxinfinitexromance

05/19/2012 north beach asbury park asbury park nj - ryan hanratty

12/20/2019 the shrine expo hall los angeles ca - gabe havel photo

05/16/2022 the eden project day one st austell england - the academy is my beautiful romance

05/17/2022 the eden project day two st austell england - the academy is my beautiful romance

05/21/2022 stadium mk milton keynes england - TheChickenGiraffe

05/24/2022 royal hospital kilmainham dublin ireland - the academy is my beautiful romance

05/28/2022 sofia gardens cricket ground cardiff wales - the academy is my beautiful romance

06/04/2022 bologna sonic park arena parco north italy - the academy is my beautiful romance

06/06/2022 olympiahalle munich germany - the academy is my beautiful romance

06/07/2022 budapest park budapest hungary - the academy is my beautiful romance

06/09/2022 progresja warsaw poland - the academy is my beautiful romance

06/11/2022 o2 arena prague czech republic - the academy is my beautiful romance

06/13/2022 stora scenen gröna lund stockholm sweden - live from stockholm

08/19/2022 paycom center oklahoma city ok - tony

08/23/2022 bridgestone arena nashville tn - the academy is my beautiful romance

08/24/2022 heritage bank center cincinnati oh - the academy is my beautiful romance

08/29/2022 wells fargo philadelphia pa - ronaldb2985

08/30/2022 mvp arena albany ny - the academy is my beautiful romance

09/05/2022 scotia bank toronto ca - the academy is my beautiful romance

09/16/2022 riot fest douglass park chicago il - geoffrey gardner

09/20/2022 prudential center newark nj - deadhoarse

09/24/2022 fla live arena sunrise fl - the academy is my beautiful romance

10/03/2022 tacoma dome tacoma wa - seattle concerts

10/05/2022 oakland arena oakland ca - HisoKu

10/07/2022 t-mobile arena las vegas nv - wormspeddler (smeagles)

10/08/2022 aftershock discovery park sacramento ca - the academy is my beautiful romance

10/09/2022 barclays center brooklyn ny - the academy is my beautiful romance

10/15/2022 kia forum inglewood ca - the academy is my beautiful romance

10/23/2022 when we were young day day two las vegas - the academy is my beautiful romance

10/29/2022 when we were young fest las vegas nv - PichyJr

11/18/2022 autódromo hermanos rodríguez mexico city mexico - leashalia

03/11/2023 the outer fields at western springs auckland new zealand (soundcheck) - the academy is my beautiful romance

03/23/2023 qudos bank arena sydney australia - the academy is my beautiful romance

-> pt. 1 (2002 - 2005)

-> pt. 2 (2005 - 2007)

-> pt. 3 (2007 - 2011)

[perfectlyripeclementine]

queer novel masterlist: Palestine edition

Found this list via @evereadssapphic on Instagram.

You Exist Too Much, Zaina Arafat

On a hot day in Bethlehem, a 12-year-old Palestinian-American girl is yelled at by a group of men outside the Church of the Nativity. She has exposed her legs in a biblical city, an act they deem forbidden, and their judgement will echo on through her adolescence. When our narrator finally admits to her mother that she is queer, her mother's response only intensifies a sense of shame: "You exist too much," she tells her daughter.

Told in vignettes that flash between the U.S. and the Middle East--from New York to Jordan, Lebanon, and Palestine--Zaina Arafat's debut novel traces her protagonist's progress from blushing teen to sought-after DJ and aspiring writer. In Brooklyn, she moves into an apartment with her first serious girlfriend and tries to content herself with their comfortable relationship. But soon her longings, so closely hidden during her teenage years, explode out into reckless romantic encounters and obsessions with other people. Her desire to thwart her own destructive impulses will eventually lead her to The Ledge, an unconventional treatment center that identifies her affliction as "love addiction." In this strange, enclosed society she will start to consider the unnerving similarities between her own internal traumas and divisions and those of the places that have formed her.

Opening up the fantasies and desires of one young woman caught between cultural, religious, and sexual identities, You Exist Too Much is a captivating story charting two of our most intense longings--for love, and a place to call home.

Haifa Fragments, Khulud Khamis

As a designer of jewelry, Maisoon wants an ordinary extraordinary life, which isn't easy for a tradition-defying activist and Palestinian citizen of Israel who refuses to be crushed by the feeling that she is an unwelcome guest in the land of her ancestors. She volunteers for the Machsom Watch, an organization that helps children in the Occupied Territories cross the border to receive medical care. Frustrated by her boyfriend Ziyad and her father, who both want her to get on with life and forget those in the Occupied Territories, she lashes out only to discover her father isn't the man she thought he was. Raised a Christian, in a relationship with a Muslim man and enamored with a Palestinian woman from the Occupied Territories, Maisoon must decide her own path.

A Map Of Home, Randa Jarrar

In this fresh, funny, and fearless debut novel, Randa Jarrar chronicles the coming-of-age of Nidali, one of the most unique and irrepressible narrators in contemporary fiction. Born in 1970s Boston to an Egyptian-Greek mother and a Palestinian father, the rebellious Nidali--whose name is a feminization of the word "struggle"--soon moves to a very different life in Kuwait. There the family leads a mildly eccentric middle-class existence until the Iraqi invasion drives them first to Egypt and then to Texas. This critically acclaimed debut novel is set to capture the hearts of everyone who has ever wondered what their own map of home might look like.

The Skin And Its Girl, Sarah Cypher

In a Pacific Northwest hospital far from the Rummani family's ancestral home in Palestine, the heart of a stillborn baby begins to beat and her skin turns vibrantly, permanently cobalt blue. On the same day, the Rummanis' centuries-old soap factory in Nablus is destroyed in an air strike. The family matriarch and keeper of their lore, Aunt Nuha, believes that the blue girl embodies their sacred history, harkening back to a time when the Rummanis were among the wealthiest soap-makers and their blue soap was a symbol of a legendary love.

Decades later, Betty returns to Aunt Nuha's gravestone, faced with a difficult decision: Should she stay in the only country she's ever known, or should she follow her heart and the woman she loves, perpetuating her family's cycle of exile? Betty finds her answer in partially translated notebooks that reveal her aunt's complex life and struggle with her own sexuality, which Nuha hid to help the family immigrate to the United States. But, as Betty soon discovers, her aunt hid much more than that.The Skin and Its Girl is a searing, poetic tale about desire and identity, and a provocative exploration of how we let stories divide, unite, and define us--and wield even the power to restore a broken family. Sarah Cypher is that rare debut novelist who writes with the mastery and flair of a seasoned storyteller.

The Philistine, Leila Marshy

Nadia Eid doesn't know it yet, but she's about to change her life. It's the end of the ‘80s and she hasn’t seen her Palestinian father since he left Montreal years ago to take a job in Egypt, promising to bring her with him. But now she’s twenty-five and he’s missing in action, so she takes matters into her own hands. Booking a short vacation from her boring job and Québecois boyfriend, she calls her father from the Nile Hilton in downtown Cairo. But nothing goes as planned and, stumbling around, Nadia wanders into an art gallery where she meets Manal, a young Egyptian artist who becomes first her guide and then her lover. 

Through this unexpected relationship, Nadia rediscovers her roots, her language, and her ambitions, as her father demonstrates the unavoidable destiny of becoming a Philistine – the Arabic word for Palestinian. With Manal’s career poised to take off and her father’s secret life revealed, the First Intifada erupts across the border.

The Twenty-Ninth Year, Hala Alyan

For Hala Alyan, twenty-nine is a year of transformation and upheaval, a year in which the past--memories of family members, old friends and past lovers, the heat of another land, another language, a different faith--winds itself around the present.

Hala's ever-shifting, subversive verse sifts together and through different forms of forced displacement and the tolls they take on mind and body. Poems leap from war-torn cities in the Middle East, to an Oklahoma Olive Garden, a Brooklyn brownstone; from alcoholism to recovery; from a single woman to a wife. This collection summons breathtaking chaos, one that seeps into the bones of these odes, the shape of these elegies.

A vivid catalog of heartache, loneliness, love and joy, The Twenty-Ninth Year is an education in looking for home and self in the space between disparate identities.

Between Banat, Mejdulene Bernard Shomali

In Between Banat Mejdulene Bernard Shomali examines homoeroticism and nonnormative sexualities between Arab women in transnational Arab literature, art, and film. Moving from The Thousand and One Nights and the Golden Era of Egyptian cinema to contemporary novels, autobiographical writing, and prints and graphic novels that imagine queer Arab futures, Shomali uses what she calls queer Arab critique to locate queer desire amid heteronormative imperatives. Showing how systems of heteropatriarchy and Arab nationalisms foreclose queer Arab women's futures, she draws on the transliterated term "banat"--the Arabic word for girls--to refer to women, femmes, and nonbinary people who disrupt stereotypical and Orientalist representations of the "Arab woman." By attending to Arab women's narration of desire and identity, queer Arab critique substantiates queer Arab histories while challenging Orientalist and Arab national paradigms that erase queer subjects. In this way, Shomali frames queerness and Arabness as relational and transnational subject formations and contends that prioritizing transnational collectivity over politics of authenticity, respectability, and inclusion can help lead toward queer freedom.

Belladonna, Anbara Salam

Isabella is beautiful, inscrutable, and popular. Her best friend, Bridget, keeps quietly to the fringes of their Connecticut Catholic school, watching everything and everyone, but most especially Isabella.

In 1957, when the girls graduate, they land coveted spots at the Accademia di Belle Arti di Pentila in northern Italy, a prestigious art history school on the grounds of a silent convent. There, free of her claustrophobic home and the town that will always see her and her Egyptian mother as outsiders, Bridget discovers she can reinvent herself as anyone she desires... perhaps even someone Isabella could desire in return.

But as that glittering year goes on, Bridget begins to suspect Isabella is keeping a secret from her, one that will change the course of their lives forever. (I believe this book is by a Palestinian author but not actually set in or about Palestine.)

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 10

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

An anonymous source discloses something that threatens to ruin your relationship with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: allusions to smut, ANGST!, anxiety, mentions of past traumatic event, adult language, kissing, fluff

WC: 4.2k

Divider by @plum98 <3

Tuesday, October 26th | 1505

Shaky hands reach up to unlock the door to your apartment, keys jingling with your movements.  Fuck.  Your hand falls to your side as you try to recollect yourself.  Eyes closed, you take a few deep breaths and straighten your spine.  Why am I nervous?  This is my goddamn apartment.

“Okay,” you say to nobody.  “It’s fine.  It’s just a door.”

Courage pools in your belly.  Taking one last deep breath, you unlock the door and push it open, eyes widening at your surroundings.  The place is spotless.  Keri stopped by your place to stock the fridge and clean up for you a couple days ago.  She must’ve either baked or sprayed some Febreze in here—it smells like cupcakes.  A smile forces its way on your face.

You set your purse on the kitchen island and gaze around.  Empty sink, full fridge and pantry, clean countertops.  Clean blankets thrown over the couch, new candles centered on the coffee table, remote on top of the TV.  There’s a small piece of paper on one of the candle lids.  You trod over to the couch and pick it up to read, grin creeping up your cheeks.

Hey, love.  I made your favorite enchiladas and stocked the fridge full of your favorite goodies.  Laundry is done and folded.  There’s some special liquid in the fridge, too—but don’t take it when you’re on your meds!! 😉 Call me if you need anything.

-Ker

Curling the note up to your chest, you walk over to the fridge and open the door.  Keri was right—she got everything you like.  Cheese, salami, fruit, wine, cookie dough, orange juice, and two giant containers of half and half.  A large, covered baking dish is calling your name.

Two enchiladas and what feels like half a pound of cookie dough later, you turn on the TV and scroll through Hulu until you find your favorite comfort show.  It starts halfway through the last episode you played.

“Picture it: Sicily, 1922…” Sophia Petrillo’s loud, Brooklyn-accented voice speaks to you.  You smile and sink into the couch, whipping your phone out to check your messages.

Joel: Have a great night, baby.  Sweet dreams.

You send him a picture of your blanket-clad body curled into the couch, along with a witty caption.  Missing your couch already.  He replies after a few beats.

Joel: Gorgeous as ever.  I’m missing more than that, though.  Gnight baby.  See you tomorrow.

You: Night, Joel. 🥰

Happy to be home and tired of binging your show, you decide it’s time to rinse off the day with some hot water and get ready for bed.  After hopping out of the shower and changing your bandages, you pick your phone up from the bathroom counter and stare at the screen.

Three messages from an unknown number stare back at you.  The area code is unfamiliar to you.  The fuck?  Your stomach flip flops like a fish on a dock as you shakily long press on one message to open it.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Better watch your man.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Sent 2 photos

Shock sucks the air out of your lungs.  You blink once, twice, three times to make sure this is what you’re really looking at.  Beads of sweat emerge from the pores on your forehead, and your hands tremble.  This is exactly how you felt after you left the hospital—panicky, lost, terrified.

The first picture is of Joel’s truck parked outside of a Motel 6, with someone in the passenger seat next to him.  It looks like a woman, but it’s too dim to make out the rest of her features.  The second picture is the same angle, but of Joel leaning near the woman’s ear, smile plastered on his face—and there’s no question that it’s him.  Salt and pepper beard, curved nose, those fucking brunette tendrils you adore so much.  He’s even wearing one of his green flannels that you’ve worn while he’s fucked you.  This photo is better lit, almost like headlights of a passing car flashed on as soon as it was snapped.  The woman’s face is—gorgeous.  She’s Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders, bright red lips, piercing hazel eyes, and a low-cut top that shows some massive breasts stuffed in a pushup bra.

The phone slips out of your hand and lands on the bathroom tile with a thud.  Fuzziness clouds your vision, and your pulse is racing so fast there’s barely any time between heartbeats.  Confusion hazes in your mind, interrupted by a loud voice telling you to sit down before you pass out.  You plop on the toilet seat and pick up your phone.

Nausea pierces your stomach as you stare at the photos again.  Clamping your eyes shut, you lean back against the toilet and take some deep breaths, allowing reason to squeeze itself back into your head.

When were these taken?  Where?  Is this pre-Omaha Joel?  Is that girl his cousin?

His hair and beard look the same as they did yesterday—and the motel looks like a Motel 6 near the Denny’s on 84th and Center, posted up right by Interstate 80.  Though it could be somewhere else, maybe in Texas, you’re almost certain it’s Omaha.  Oak and maple trees line the back of the motel, with leaves of various shades of red, yellow, and orange—you don’t know enough about Texas to know if they have fall foliage like Nebraska does.  Maybe you don’t want to know.

Your heart feels like it stops beating altogether at the realization that this was taken very recently—maybe even today.

A tear drips down your burning cheek and lands on the screen of your phone, painting the woman’s face in rainbow pixels.  Somehow, she looks even more beautiful than before with your tears plastered on her perfect face.

Anger sears your insides and clutches your throat.  You ignored every little voice in your head that was telling you something wasn’t right, shoved it into the depths of your brain and tried to stay present, optimistic.  Joel had given you everything—took care of you, made you feel safe and loved, went out of his way to be there for you.  What was the fucking point of this shit?  He could have easily dropped you and carried on with his life.

Standing up from the toilet, you lean over the sink and splash some cold water on your face and neck, arms propped up on the bowl as you hunch over and continue to take deep breaths.

How am I gonna address this with him?  Send him the pictures with no context?  Screenshot the messages, including the number?

No, no, no—the latter would be too easy for him to explain.  You wanted him to squirm and roil like you are now.  Sure, you weren’t exactly a fucking couple, but you never expected him to do this.  Fuming, you save the pictures and pull up your messages with Joel.  You look at his contact picture in your phone—it’s one of him and you from your date at Village Pointe, when he’d watched you admire the flowers at one of the boutiques.  God, he’s fucking handsome, and he looks so happy.

Fuck that.  You send the pictures over to him and shut your phone off before stomping off to bed.

Wednesday, October 27th | 0712

Cheerful chirps of the American robins outside your window wake you.  You rub your eyes, quickly realizing that they’re sore—probably from all your sobbing the night prior. Dread fills you quickly as you recall the events from last night.

Shit. Your phone is off. Probably wasn’t the best idea, considering you’re still recovering from a traumatic event and people might worry if they can’t reach you.

Anxiety weighs your arm down as it reaches for your phone. You hold the power button and watch the screen light up with fast, shallow breaths.

15 missed calls.  10 from Joel, 2 from Sarah, and 3 from unknown numbers.  20-something messages, mostly from Joel.  Your heart skips a beat and your finger inches toward one of them to read it before stopping.

Nope.  You’re not giving up so easily.  He can squirm for a bit.  After all, he made a conscious choice to do this.  Another question burns the back of your brain, though.

Who took the pictures?

You open your messages and see that the unknown number that sent the 3 messages is the same one that texted you the pictures.  You open them, and your stomach falls to the floor as you read.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Oh, girl.  You sent him those?  Tsk tsk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Now you’re giving him time to come up with an explanation??

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: If you can’t get rid of him after he did this, imagine what else you’ll let him get away with.

Lips tightened and jaw jutting angrily, you puff out a hot breath and feel anger bubble inside you as you type a response.

You: Who the fuck are you?  What is your problem?

They don’t miss a beat replying.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Someone you don’t want to fuck with.  Let it go now and you’ll get over it in no time.

A rough, defiant snarl rips through you as your fingers zip across the screen.

You: You’re so threatening that you have to send shit anonymously?  Grow the fuck up.

You: Fucking clown 🤡

The number doesn’t reply immediately.  You sit up in bed, hot tears starting to brew behind your eyelids.  And your head is pounding—likely from the crying, which has no doubt left you dehydrated.  You slowly stand up and wait for the stars to fade from your vision before padding into the kitchen.

As you brew a strong pot of coffee, your phone rings.  You close your eyes, inhale deeply, and flatten your palms on the countertop to ground yourself.  The cold material heats up underneath your fingertips, leaving condensation in their wake.

You pick up the phone, slowly.  It’s Joel.  The air in your chest halts.  Do you answer, or continue ignoring him?  Part of you wants so badly to hear his deep voice, hear him tell you this was all a big mistake, and the photos are AI.

But you know that’s not the case.  You accept the call and wait a beat before speaking, lips sucked into your mouth.

“Baby, you there?” His voice is frantic, and you can hear him pacing in what you guess is his kitchen.  It’s early, and he’s probably making coffee of his own.

“Why are you calling me?” Your voice is frigid, distant, setting the stone blocks of the wall you’re placing between him and you.

He sighs heavily, footsteps echoing in the background.

“Darlin’, it’s not what you think, I—,” he groans, exasperated.  You interrupt him before he can finish.

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” you snarl, voice scathing.  Joel is silent for a moment, shocked at the anger in your voice.  He’s never seen or heard you like this.  He chooses his next words carefully.

“Please, let me see you and we can talk about this,” he pleads, agonized.  Part of you wants to smile, making him grovel at your feet—the other part is heartbroken, the photos plastered in your mind permanently.

“I really don’t want to talk to you after what I saw.  I-I trusted you, and you had every opportunity to cut things off with me… Jesus, Joel, we weren’t even a couple!” you spit, voice transforming from strong and firm, to shaky and choked.  Your fists are clenched so hard, your knuckles are bone white, and salty tears roll down your cheeks.

“Baby, you don’t realize h—,” he starts, but you cut him off again.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“Please, please, just lemme explain and it’ll all make sense,” he cries, almost whimpering.  Frustrated, you hold a deep breath in your ribcage and pinch the bridge of your nose as you contemplate a response.

“I’ve seen everything I need to see,” you say, surprisingly calmly.  “You made me look and feel so… so fucking stupid.  I don’t even know who sent me the fucking pictures and now they’re threatening me, I j—,” you continue, and this time Joel cuts you off.

“Threatening you?” he hisses.  Your eyes roll so hard it hurts.

“Gimme a fucking break, Joel.  You’re pissed you got caught—you don’t give a fuck about me,” you sear, irritated.  Part of you knows that you’re not being entirely truthful—you know that he does care.  But you want it to sting, and it does.  He inhales sharply.

“Now you know damn well that ain’t true, and that I lo—,” he stops himself, your stomach twisting at the realization of what he was about to say.  He clears his throat.

“I want you to be happy.  If that ain’t with me, then I have no choice but to let it be.  But if you wanna talk, I’ll be here.  I’m askin’ ya one more time to let me explain,” he chokes, the pain evident with each syllable.  He sounds like he did when he first came to the hospital after the stabbing—broken and worried.

You close your eyes for a moment and think about your life since you’ve met Joel.

Happy, exhilarating, euphoric, a whirlwind.

A new version of you—confident, glowing, sexy.  Now it all seems so abstract, utopian.

What’s the worst that could happen?  He explains, you don’t believe him, and you never see him again?  As much as you’d like to stick to that plan, you know once you’ll see him it’ll be over.

“Baby, you there?” he asks quietly, hesitantly, trying not to poke the bear.

“Yes, I’m here.  Thinking,” you reply, matching his volume.  “Fine.  We can meet up.  Tomorrow,” you offer, tone stern.  You need a day to think.

“Whenever y’want.  Just let me know and I’ll be there,” he says, voice like a warm hug.  It’s pissing you off, how easily he can melt you.  You give him a pinched mhm.  He sighs.

“D’y’need anything?  Bandages, food, anythin’?” he asks, kindness slicing your heart open.

“No.  Keri stocked my place while I was gone.  I’m good,” you reply coolly.

Shit, you don’t want to tell Keri—you can’t bear to rehash what you saw last night and break your heart all over again.

“I’m—m’sorry, baby.  You mean the world t’me,” he laments.  You pinch your eyelids shut, running a clammy hand through your hair.  He’s not making this easy.

“Do you realize how hard it is to believe that after seeing those fucking photos, Joel?  How do you think I feel whenever I think about them?” You sob, hands waving with each pained syllable that escapes your mouth.  He sniffles on the other end, but you continue.

“Seeing you close to that… that woman, who is clearly so much fucking better than me, that perfect fucking wo—,” he cuts you off.

“Nobody is better than you.  Nobody.  Get that through your head,” he says, voice angry.  You groan angrily as tears continue pricking your eyelids.

“What do you expect?  Like… I don’t understand what you thought I’d think.  Maybe you thought I’d never find out,” you mutter.

“Y’won’t believe me when I tell you what’s really goin’ on.  She’s not who y’think,” he sighs, and you can hear him hanging his head on the other line.  “I’ll tell y’everything tomorrow.”

Jaw ticking, you nod before realizing he can’t see you.  “Okay.”

“F’you need anything, y’know I’m here.  Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

Wednesday, October 27th | 1239

After the call with Joel, your crying and frustration exhausted you to the point that you fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.  The quote from the Golden Girls episode you watched struck a painful chord with you, sending you further into the abyss.

I don't want to talk about it. Oh, how could George betray me this way? Dammit, those wedding vows were sacred to me. Well, they must have been. I turned down hundreds, thousands of offers. Teachers, doctors, astronauts. I even said no to a journalist famous for his work on 60 Minutes. Now, if that's not fidelity, I don't know what is. Then I find out that the only man I ever loved cheated on me. On me! Oh, I could just die.

Blanche discovered her late husband had an affair that produced a child—but only when the adult child showed up at her doorstep.  It puts things in perspective for you.

One, you and Joel aren’t married—maybe this is a sign not to let it progress further.

But—you hated to admit to yourself that he was the only man you had ever loved.

Does the pain come with the territory, or is it an omen?

You roll off the couch, frustrated still but filled with a bolt of energy.  You needed to get out of here.  It’s not like you have work the next day, or anytime soon—somewhere far, far away was calling your name.

Fuck it.  You decided to head to Chadron early—your grandma’s house was ready for you and clearing your mind with some time at the rustic farmhouse sounded hypnagogic.  Thinking of the rolling hills, buttes, pine trees, and open skies filled you with tranquility.  Joel’s face sits in the back of your mind, beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration.  A wave of sadness engulfs you.

Joel would have to figure out fast if he really wanted this.

Having packed a decently sized suitcase in less than 30 minutes, you stuff it in your car and hop in the driver’s seat.  You quickly type a text to Keri asking her to check up on the place every few days before starting the car.  The gas tank was at half, and with you leaving later in the day, it was probably smart to fill up before starting the 7-hour drive.

You make a quick stop at a QT not too far from your apartment and fill up.  As you watch the numbers on the pump display tick, a sleek black truck pulls up to the pump next to yours.

Shit.

It’s Joel.

He steps out and saunters over to you.  It’s only been a day since you’ve seen him, but it feels like months.  His handsome face looks sullen, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes absent.  His frown lines have deepened, stubble grown out, some new gray hairs have erupted along his chin.

And then you see his eyes.  Despondent pools of dark chocolate, no traces of the golden flecks you’ve grown to love.  What pisses you off the most, though, is how much love pours out of them.  It’s so hard to be mad at him when you know that he loves you.

He stops at your side, and you turn away to stare at the numbers.  The nozzle clicks and the numbers freeze.  Ignoring him, you yank the nozzle out of your car and shove it back on the holder, fingers still gripping the handle.  His warm hand envelopes your forearm, rendering you motionless.  You can’t look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, tone of his velvet voice echoing the sullenness in his eyes.  He takes the pump from your hand and turns you toward him.

Tears pool in your eyes for the zillionth time the last 24 hours.  Your lip trembles, and you snap your eyes shut.  He cradles your face in his hands and tilts your head up to look at him.  Your eyes are still squeezed shut.

“Look at me,” he says your name gently, and the familiar scents of sandalwood and bourbon waft into your nostrils, relaxing you subconsciously.  Involuntarily, you inhale deeply and slowly open your eyes.  A single tear falls from the corner of your eye as you stare at him.

He winces at seeing you in pain—pain that he caused.  He leans in and kisses the tear on your cheek. Your gut feels like he reached in and twisted it.

“Where y’going, darlin’?” he says quietly, soothing your cheeks with his thumbs.  You can only imagine how this looks—the two of you wrapped in each other in the middle of a gas station, tears streaked down your cheeks and looking a hot mess.

“To Chadron,” you sniff.  At some point you grabbed his forearms, the familiar feeling of safety washing over you.

“So soon?  Baby,” he says, deep line etched into his forehead.  You reach up and smooth it with your thumb.  He closes his eyes, exhaling in relief at your touch.

“I needed to get away from here,” you say quietly and absentmindedly, distracted from smoothing his skin.  He grabs your hand and kisses it, featherlight, eyes locked on yours.  He opens your hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“Let me come with you.  Please,” he pleads softly.  His eyes are melting you from the inside out.

“Not before you explain what the hell those pictures are… and who sent them,” you say, arching one eyebrow.  He sighs, long and heavy, glancing to his left as he shakes his head and rakes a calloused hand through his stubble. He huffs again before turning back to face you.

“S’my cousin, Valeria.  She left her abusive husband in Laredo and is stayin’ at that Motel 6 since that asshole cut her off.  I paid for her room f’the next few weeks while Tommy n’ I figure out somethin’.  I’m sure I was givin’ her a kiss on the cheek.  M’sorry I didn’t tell you—it was sudden, and she wanted me to keep it a secret,” he says with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Your shoulders slump instantly. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“As f’who sent ‘em… no goddamn clue.  Pretty fuckin’ close to hiring a PI,” he grumbles, chest puffing out slightly. The knot that’s been tightening in your stomach the last day finally releases, relieving tension throughout your entire body. Your shoulders lift and fall as you take deep breaths, before tensing again as you realize you made a mountain out of a molehill.

Jesus.  You’re a complete asshole.  Of course, you assume the worst.  You’d be surprised if he still wanted you after this charade.

The tears flow before you can try and stop them.  You bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his solid arms around you, rubbing your back and soothing you as you sob quietly.

“Shh, baby, s’okay… I understand,” he murmurs into your hair.  “Don’t cry. You’re still my favorite girl.”

You alternate between giggling and sniffling into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Joel—that was psychotic behavior,” you bemoan.  You feel him shake his head.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he coos.  “Y’didn’t answer me, though.”

“Hmm?” you say, craning your neck to look at him.

“Y’gonna let me drive you?” he asks, gazing into the somber pools of your eyes.  You roll them, small smirk stretching your cheeks.

“I ‘spose.  Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.  And ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole.”  He chuckles, pulling you into his warm embrace.  He kisses the crown of your head.

“My asshole,” he soothes.  You squeeze him tightly, a nonverbal apology flowing from your fingertips into his broad back.

“Baby,” he says, and you pull back to gaze at him.  His eyes flick between yours, a question hidden behind his pupils.  You arch one eyebrow at him.

“I love you—y’know that, right?” he says, the volume of his voice lowered, redness creeping up his neck.  He looks shy, almost childlike.

Shock doesn’t fill you; rather, warmth blooms in your chest.  You knew he did—it was just a matter of when he decided to tell you verbally.  He shows you constantly with his actions.  The corner of your mouth ticks up in a sly grin.

“Fastest you’ve ever told someone that, yeah?” you poke, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“Been through more in 12 days with you ‘n anyone in a lifetime—seems like we’ve known each other a long, long time,” he says, picking some stray hairs from your face.

“Yeah, very true… I love you too.  Even though you hate the coffee I drink.”  He beams at you, shoulders shaking along with his deep chuckles.  He leans in and stops just prior to his lips brushing yours.

“Hey, I’ve tried and tried to like the sugary shit—ain’t my thing.  But you certainly are,” he croons, pressing his lips against yours before you can respond.

This kiss feels much like your first one, back at McKinney’s—passionate, fresh, experimental.  It doesn’t heat up immediately, either—you two savor each other’s lips and embraces, content in the softness and sweetness of this moment of forgiveness.  It’s almost a new beginning for both of you.  Liveliness surges through your veins, scraping the sludge of uncertainty, self-doubt, and anxiety from the walls that have built up since the stabbing.  His lips are chapped, longer stubble chafing your skin, hands holding you a bit tighter than they did when he kissed you goodbye yesterday.  He pulls back, teeth lightly pulling your lower lip with him.

“Y’know, you’re sexy when you’re mad at me,” he teases you, lusty undertones echoing in his deep voice.

“Don’t make it a habit, Miller,” you scold him, squinting your eyes at him.  He laughs again.

“Come over so I can pack, and we can hit the road, sound good?”

“Sure does.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk <3

[sebstanaddict]

A Winter Miracle Part 2 : Snowbound Delivery

Sebastian Stan x Reader One Shot

Summary:

After surviving the adventurous journey from Atlanta to New York, Sebastian finally arrived in New York only to find out his wife was really in labor. But her cold and icy behavior towards him raised a big question in his head. Did he do something wrong? And was she really in labor?

A/N : This story is part two of Sebastian Stan one shot titled A Winter Miracle: Flight of Frenzy. Read the first part here to understand more about this story.

Hope you enjoy this and please vote and comment. I will really appreciate it. Thank you!

Warning : some fluff and sexual references

Word count: 8.9k

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Delta Airline 228, Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, Atlanta, USA - Jan 19th 2024 - 1.30 pm

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"Iubirea mea.. I'm having contractions.."

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Sebastian's heart seemed to stop as he read the last message from his wife Y/n. He immediately called her and waited impatiently for her to pick up.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you turn your phone off, please? We're about to take off." A stewardess came to him and reminded him.

"But my wife is in labor!" He protested.

"We know, sir." The stewardess said.

"We know." Passengers around him also chorused along with the stewardess, startling him.

"Fine." He sighed as he looked at his cellphone which had disconnected automatically because his wife hadn't answered it.

"Thank you, sir." The stewardess smiled then finally left.

He typed a quick message to his wife letting her know that he was finally on his way to New York, then he turned the airplane mode of his cellphone on.

He let out a deep sigh as he put his cellphone back in his pocket and looked out the window, praying he could still make it on time to see his baby's birth.

Even though the journey from Atlanta to New York took only two hours, it felt like the longest two hours of his life. When the plane finally touched down in New York, he was the first one to be out of the plane.

"Thank you for flying with us, sir. And hope you can still make it to see your baby's birth." The beautiful stewardess who recognized Adriana and helped her earlier smiled at him as he stepped out of the plane.

"Thank you." He smiled back and immediately walked towards the terminal.

With long and quick strides he dragged his suitcase with one hand and pulled out his cellphone with the other. He turned off the airplane mode on his cellphone and immediately called his wife.

"Honey.. please pick up." He said under his breath as he continued to walk towards the exit of the airport.

"Seb.." his wife finally picked up after five rings and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh Y/n sweetheart.. where are you? How are you? Are you still having contractions?" He asked, panic in his voice.

"I'm at the Brooklyn Hospital Center waiting for dr.Selena to arrive. Are you in New York already?" She asked.

"Oh okay. Yeah. I just landed at JFK."

"Oh thank God. What happened?"

"Long story, honey. I'll tell you later. How are you? Are you still having contractions?"

"Umm.. not really. The last one was before I left for the hospital, like an hour ago. I haven't felt it again. So.."

"Oh okay. Well it's best to still get yourself checked."

"Yeah. I know."

"Okay. Just hang in there. I'm going straight there."

"Okay."

"See you in a bit, honey."

"See you soon, Iubirea mea."

"I love you."

"I love you more." She replied and he smiled.

"Not possible." He responded and she laughed.

"Just get into a taxi and come down here quickly, Iubirea mea." She commanded.

"As you wish, my queen." He replied and she giggled.

"Bye, Iubirea mea."

"Bye, sweetheart." And they finally hung up.

Listening to her voice made him miss her so much. The last time he saw her was two weeks ago. He was supposed to get days off every week but the Thunderbolts shooting schedule towards the end was so tight that he ended up working overtime and didn't get the chance to go back to New York last week. In any case, he was glad she was okay and that it seemed he would make it to his baby's birth.

"Taxi!" He yelled as he finally made it out of the airport and immediately hailed a taxi in front of the exit of the terminal.

A cold breeze passed him and he shivered a little as he stood on the sidewalk and waited. The air felt colder than in Atlanta he thought as he continued to raise his hand up and try to catch a taxi. Thankfully an empty taxi pulled over moments later and he immediately got in.

"Where to, sir?" the taxi driver asked as he slammed the taxi door shut.

"Brooklyn Hospital Center, please." he answered and the driver nodded.

He pulled out his cellphone again as the taxi started to move and sent a message to his wife, letting her know that he was in a taxi and was heading to the hospital.

"And now for the weather forecast. New York City will have clear skies for the rest of the day but starting tonight there might be some snowfall as the temperature drops to 30 degrees. More light snowfall is expected tomorrow in the city as well as around Roxbury, Albany and Poughkeepsie. Expect the skies to clear up on Saturday evening but get ready for a snow storm in the city, Roxbury, Albany and Poughkeepsie starting Sunday with temperatures as low as 22 degrees." The sound of a female weather forecaster came out from the taxi's radio.

Snow storm? That doesn't sound good. He thought as he looked out the window. Chad's wedding was going to be held on Saturday at the Plattekill Mountains which was in Roxbury. He hoped the forecast was correct and the snow storm really happened on Sunday instead of Saturday. A wedding during a snow storm definitely doesn't sound ideal. But then again, at this point he didn't know if he was going to be able to attend it. If his wife really was in labor he definitely couldn't come to the wedding.

His mind wandered to his wife again and he remembered the last time he witnessed her giving birth to their first child, Starlene. It was incredible to witness how strong she was during the whole thing. She insisted on not using any pain relief and wanted to give birth as normal as possible. He saw how much she was in pain but she withstood it all and just used the hypnobirthing method to manage the pain. He remembered witnessing everything from when her cervical dilation was zero until it reached 10 cm and she finally pushed their baby out into the world. He wasn't sure he could be as strong as she was if the position was reversed. He remembered how painful it was to recover from his broken leg and how he couldn't function without the pain killers.

He realized how sensitive she was that she felt pain even when her cervix was not yet dilated. She sounded calm the last time he called her so maybe the contraction really was a false alarm and they could still go to Chad's wedding.

The taxi screeched to a halt all of a sudden and he heard a loud crash as his body was jolted to the front, his face almost hitting the head rest of the front passenger seat.

"Oh f**k!" The taxi driver cursed as he looked to the front. The taxi just hit another car! Steam came out of the taxi's hood and the taxi driver immediately got out of the taxi.

He sighed and shook his head in disbelief. Today felt like his honeymoon all over again with all the bad things happening to him.

He peeked to the front and saw the taxi driver talking with a man who he assumed was the driver of the car they just hit. They both looked tense and seemed to be yelling at each other.

Obviously he couldn't continue riding in the taxi so he got out and approached the taxi driver, dragging his suitcase and carrying his backpack with him.

"Don't you dare blame me for this! You stopped all of a sudden!" The taxi driver yelled.

"I was stopping because someone was jaywalking! I had to stop so I didn't run over him!" The man replied in agitation.

"Excuse me, sir." Sebastian said.

"Oh, I'm sorry about this, sir." The taxi driver turned to him and shot him an apologetic smile.

"It's okay, I'll just get another taxi." He said as he gave the taxi driver two hundred dollars.

"Wait! This is too much!" The taxi driver exclaimed out loud.

"It's fine. Take it." He said as he clapped the shoulder of the taxi driver and smiled then he turned to the other man.

"You okay, man?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah. But my car isn't." The man replied in annoyance as he gestured towards the back of his car. The bumper of the car had quite a deep dent right where the taxi had hit it.

"Here. I hope this is enough to cover the damage." He said as he pulled another two hundred dollars from his wallet and gave it to the man.

"You don't have to do this, man." The man said, raising his hands up, refusing to take the money but there was a small smile on his lips.

"Just take it, man." Sebastian insisted as he continued to extend the money to the man.

"I.. well.. okay. Thank you so much." The man smiled as he finally took the money.

"No problem." Sebastian smiled.

"Where are you heading by the way?" the man asked.

"Brooklyn Hospital Center." He replied.

"That's like three blocks away. I'm heading to Manhattan. I can take you there." the man offered.

"Oh okay. That's great! Thank you." He exclaimed in relief, glad that he didn't have to find another taxi. The weather was quite cold and he wasn't looking forward standing in the cold too long waiting for a taxi.

He followed the man into his car after saying goodbye to the taxi driver who kept thanking him. The man's name was Sean, he was from Brooklyn and he was apparently going to visit his friend's house in Manhattan.

At first he didn't think Sean recognized him. He did tell him his name was Sebastian but he didn't mention his last name. It wasn't until he arrived at Brooklyn Hospital Center that he realized Sean knew who he was.

"Thank you, Sean." He said as he extended his hand and shook Sean's hand.

"No, thank you, Bucky." Sean winked and he laughed.

He got out of the car and waved at Sean. Sean saluted him and he watched as Sean drove away. Just then his phone buzzed. His wife was calling and he immediately picked it up.

"Seb? Where are you?" Y/n's voice came out from the speaker. He noticed that she sounded annoyed.

"I'm at the hospital, honey. Just arrived at the entrance. Where are you?" He replied, wondering why she sounded annoyed.

"Oh okay. I'm on the second floor. Dr. Selena just arrived. They're calling me in."

"Okay. I'll be right there."

She hung up without replying, which made him feel even more curious. He wondered what he did wrong. She was usually like this if he did something wrong.

He sighed as he put his cellphone back in his pocket and continued walking into the lobby of the hospital. As he walked in he remembered the events several years ago when his wife was hospitalized at that hospital with Covid while pregnant with Starlene. He spent days at the hospital watching over her so he knew the hospital well. He immediately took a left turn towards the elevators.

When he got there many people were queueing to enter the elevator so he decided to take the stairs. As he went up he kept wondering what was wrong. He replayed their conversations earlier on the phone and text message but couldn't pinpoint anything that could potentially get her to feel annoyed at him other than the fact that he was late to arrive from Atlanta.

Moments later he arrived on the second floor at the Obstetrics and Gynecology Clinic and found his wife and Starlene sitting on chairs in front of dr. Selena's office.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Starlene jumped off from her chair as soon as she saw him and immediately ran towards him. He smiled wide as he let go of his suitcase, went down on his knees and embraced Starlene in his arms.

"Hello Starlene, my darling little star. I'm so happy to see you." He hugged her tight and started pecking her cheeks and face with kisses making Starlene giggle.

"Seb.." Y/n's voice entered his ear and he looked up, smiling wide at her. He expected her to smile back but she just stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Honey. Are you okay?" He stood up and went closer to her, intending to give her a hug but she stepped back, startling him.

"Are you having contractions again?" He asked.

"No. Let's just go in. Dr. Selena is waiting for us." she said, beckoning her head towards dr.Selena's office.

"Oh okay. I'm really sorry for being so late. You won't believe what happened." he said as he carried Starlene with one hand and dragged his suitcase with his other hand.

"Oh yeah. I know. You saved a child from a kidnapper didn't you?" Y/n stated.

"Yeah. I did. Guess the news travels fast." He chuckled.

"Indeed it does." She said with a hint of sarcasm, making him wonder what was going on with her but they were already in front of the doctor's office so he couldn't ask her again.

The door to the office was opened and a nurse stood in front of it.

"Hi Emily." Y/n greeted the nurse and the nurse smiled.

"Hi Y/n. Please come in." Emily said and she stepped back to allow them to come in.

"Good afternoon dr.Selena." Y/n greeted her and the doctor smiled at them.

"Ah, good afternoon Mrs and Mr Stan. It's lovely to see you both again." dr. Selena smiled warmly.

"And ooh, look who it is? Last time I saw you, you were just a tiny baby." dr. Selena smiled at Starlene who smiled shyly back at her.

"Yes, can't believe it's been almost two years now." Sebastian chuckled.

"I know. Time really flies doesn't it? Anyway, please sit down. What can I do for you today?" dr.Selena asked as they took seats in front of her.

"Umm.. first of all. I'm really sorry that we didn't come back to you before today. We decided to try water birth to deliver our second baby and we found out that we couldn't do it here." Y/n started to explain.

"Oh. That's fine Mrs.Stan. I know we don't have that facility here so it's great that you can find it somewhere else." dr. Selena smiled.

"I'm glad you think that, dr.Selena." Y/n replied.

"So, what can I do for you today?" dr.Selena asked again.

"Well. I'm currently 36 weeks pregnant. Earlier today I felt a contraction. A pressure at my lower back. At first I thought it was Braxton Hicks contraction but then it happened multiple times over the course of an hour. So, I decided to come here to get a check. The birthing center is in New Jersey and my husband was not here when the contraction happened so I decided to come here because it's closer to where we live." Y/n explained.

"Oh yes. You were all over the news Mr.Stan! Saving a kidnapped child in Atlanta huh? A real life hero." dr.Selena exclaimed and he chuckled. He glanced at Y/n and she was not smiling or laughing along, she had an icy expression on her face as she glanced back at him and that made him feel a little scared and wondering again what he did wrong.

"Anyway, have you felt any more contractions after that?" dr.Selena asked, turning her attention back to Y/n.

"No. It stopped before I came here." Y/n responded.

"Very well. Please come to the examination bed Mrs.Stan so we can check on you and the baby." dr.Selena said as she stood up and Y/n stood up too.

He watched as dr.Selena checked Y/n's cervix and did an ultrasound on her stomach. His eyes widened as he made out his baby's figure on the ultrasound screen.

"Well, you have no cervical dilation yet and it seems your baby is breech." dr.Selena said, pointing on the screen at the baby's bottom who was near the bottom of the uterus.

"Oh no. Is it still possible for the baby to turn into head first position?" Y/n asked.

"Yes, don't worry. Most babies will be positioned head first at 36-37 weeks. There are some exercises that you can do to help and some other methods you can try at home. But if by 37 weeks your baby is still breech, there's a procedure called ECV, External Cephalic Version, where we try to turn the baby from the outside." dr.Selena replied.

"Oh okay." Y/n nodded.

"Are there any risks associated with the procedure, doctor?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes, there are small risks of early onset labor, premature rupture of the membranes, minor blood loss for either the baby or the mother and fetal distress that could lead to an emergency C-section." dr.Selena replied as she put the ultrasound's transducer away. He was horrified as he listened at the risks and it seemed dr.Selena caught up on that.

"Don't worry Mr.Stan. Considering the weight of your baby and the adequate amount of amniotic fluid surrounding your baby, there is still a high chance of your baby to turn on its own naturally." dr.Selena replied as she returned to sit in front of him while Emily the nurse helped clean Y/n's stomach from the ultrasound gel.

"Okay. Thank you doctor. So, back to the main question. Is she in labor?" Sebastian asked.

"As far as I can see, no. It seemed it was Braxton Hicks contraction that you experienced Mrs.Stan." dr. Selena said, referring to the mild and irregular practice contractions that could happen during pregnancy that doesn't signify actual labor.

"Oh okay. That's a relief." Y/n finally smiled as she sat next to him and he couldn't help but smile too. But her face turned cold again as she glanced at him, his heart plummeted at the sight.

"Why is it a relief, Mrs.Stan? If you don't mind me asking?" dr.Selena asked curiously.

"Well, we're supposed to attend our friend's wedding tomorrow in The Catskills, so it's a relief that I'm not in labor yet." Y/n explained.

"I see. In any case, since your due date is near I would advise for you to have a plan in case you go into labor at your friend's wedding. Especially if you're going to spend the night in The Catskills. I mean, it's far from New Jersey." dr.Selena said.

"Yes, the venue is about two to three hours away from the birthing center." Y/n responded.

"I see. All the more reason to be prepared." dr.Selena said.

"Of course, doctor. We'll make sure to be prepared." Sebastian said.

"Good." dr.Selena smiled and she continued to advise them on what they could do at home to help turn their baby to the correct position. She mentioned some form of exercise, music and other methods. Some sounded weird but others seemed to make sense. There was one thing he thought he read somewhere that could help but he was too embarrassed to ask about it and decided to Google it later.

"I'm sorry doctor, does sex help in turning the baby?" Y/n asked, startling him. Apparently she had the same thought as he was. He glanced at her and gave her a side smile but her face remained cold making him question again what was wrong.

"Well, there is no scientific evidence that it helps. Just as there is no scientific evidence that listening to music and putting something cold and warm on your stomach helps. But as long as you don't have any vaginal bleeding, I think it's something that you can try." dr.Selena advised.

"Alright, thank you doctor." Y/n nodded.

"Remember to come and have another ultrasound next week, here or at the birthing center. If your baby is still breech, you might want to consider having ECV or C-section for delivery." dr.Selena reminded them.

"Very well, doctor. Thank you." Y/n nodded.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" dr.Selena asked.

"No, doctor. Thank you so much." Y/n responded.

"Thank you, doctor." Sebastian said.

"You're very welcome Mrs. and Mr.Stan." dr.Selena smiled.

"So.. do you think you want to try and have sex tonight?" Sebastian asked as soon as they were out of dr.Selena's office.

"Is that all you can think about?" Y/n replied, her voice a little high.

"Honey.. what's wrong? Why are you mad at me?" He finally asked the question he had been dying to ask since they met that day.

"I don't want to talk about it here. Besides, we need to get going if we want to make it to Chad's rehearsal dinner tonight." She reminded him.

"Oh, right." He said, glancing at his watch. It was almost 6 pm, they were surely going to be late as the dinner starts in an hour.

It was quite a miracle that one and a half hours later they were already in their car, heading towards Plattekill Wedding Venue in Roxbury. Sebastian had called Chad earlier explaining their situation and Chad was thankfully quite understanding. He assumed they would arrive at the venue quite late so Chad directed him to go straight to a house that he had rented in Roxbury for them to stay over that night. The wedding ceremony was going to be held the next morning at 10 am and Chad had rented several houses around the venue for all the guests to stay at.

Sebastian glanced at Y/n who was sitting in the front passenger seat, her expression still cold. He sighed and glanced at the rear view mirror. Starlene was sitting in her car seat right behind him while Lucky sat next to her. They decided to bring Lucky because they couldn't find anyone to help watch over him. All of his and her friends were going to be at the wedding and they couldn't possibly leave him alone at their apartment.

Lucky was quiet while Starlene had an iPad in her hand and was busy watching YouTube. He decided to ask Y/n again on why she was angry at him. He couldn't stand seeing her so cold to him like that.

"Honey.." he slowly said, his heart rate increased a little.

"Hmm?" She responded.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked gently.

She sighed and didn't answer immediately.

"I can't stand seeing you so cold to me like this." He said as he slowly reached out to pick her hand up.

"I've missed you, sweetheart." He said, kissing her hand gently. He was glad she allowed him to do that but his heart plummeted as she pulled her hand away.

"I did too, Seb. Until I saw this." She said as she pulled her cellphone out and started swiping on the screen.

"You have some explaining to do." She demanded as she showed her cellphone screen to him.

"Let me pull over for a bit." He said. They were not on the highway yet and he saw a gas station up ahead. He decided to stop there. He glanced at the fuel meter and realized they also needed to refuel.

He pulled over right after the entrance to the gas station then turned towards her.

"Let me see." He said as he extended his hand to her and she gave him her cellphone.

There on the screen he could see footage of him at the Atlanta airport, talking to the airline staff who had asked for his autograph. He shook his head in disbelief. Someone had taken a video of him talking to the staff. It also showed how they went behind the counter in front of the gate and emerged minutes later to an angry Delta staff. The caption written on the video made his blood boil.

"Sebastian Stan caught cheating with an airline crew!"

"Oh my God! I can't believe this." He protested.

"Is it true?!" She asked, her voice raised.

"Honey.. of course it's not true! How could you think that? I would never cheat on you! You know that." He pleaded.

"Well then, explain to me what that is!" She demanded, gesturing towards her cellphone.

Sebastian sighed. "The airline staff was a fan. She wanted me to sign the back of her neck. I thought it would look rather weird if I did it in public. It would have raised some questions so I suggested doing it behind the counter. I didn't think anyone saw it."

"She wanted you to sign behind her neck?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes! She wanted to get it tattooed, like that fake tattoo I got for Monday." He explained.

"That's all that happened?" She asked.

"Yes! I have her phone number. You can call her yourself if you don't believe me." He said but as soon as he said it regretted it. Y/n's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance again upon hearing him saying it.

"Why do you have her phone number?" She asked coldly.

"I.. I offered her tickets to Thunderbolts premiere and I need her number to arrange for that."

"And why did you offer her tickets to Thunderbolts premiere?" She asked, the crease on her eyebrows got even deeper.

"Because I had lied earlier to the other airline staff telling them that you were in labor but when I talked to her I.. umm.. I forgot about that lie and told her you were not in labor. So I basically bribed her so she wouldn't tell anyone else that I lied."

She stared at him for a moment with no reaction on her face, making his heart beat faster in anticipation. Then slowly her expression became more relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ooh Seb. You lied about me being in labor?" She asked, shaking her head.

"Yeah.. yeah I did." He said, grimacing.

"Maybe that's why I had the Braxton Hicks contractions. Your lie manifested." She pointed out.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I just wanted to get here as soon as I could. At the time it seemed like a good idea to tell people that your wife is in labor in order to speed things up, you know." He explained sheepishly.

"Well, it didn't help at all, did it?" She said and he couldn't help but agree to it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He said again as he returned her cellphone to her and placed his hands on the sides of her face.

"You know you're the only woman for me. My heart belongs only to you. Please never doubt that, sweetheart." He said as he gazed at her intently, trying to convey his love to her through his gentle gaze.

She gazed back at him and smiled slowly. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the love again in her eyes.

"I love you." He said with all his heart.

"I love you too, Iubirea mea." She smiled and he smiled back.

He stroked her cheeks gently with his thumb and slowly leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. Home. He finally felt like he was home. Butterflies flew around in his stomach as they continued to kiss and forget about everything around them.

"Daddy.. I want a kiss too." Starlene suddenly chimed up and they broke apart, laughing.

"Well, I'll give you a kiss later okay? It's hard to turn around to reach you in this position." Sebastian said, turning his head to face Starlene.

"Okay." Starlene said happily and she returned her attention back to her iPad, making them both smile.

"So. Anyway. Do you want to try to have sex tonight?" He asked as he drove the car closer to the fuel dispensers. Kissing her earlier woke up the desire in him and he couldn't help but imagine making love to her.

"Seb. I don't know. Aren't you tired? Besides, remember the last time we had sex while I was 37 weeks pregnant with her?" She asked, pointing her thumb back at Starlene.

"I remember. That was amazing sex and it brought our star out into the world." He winked and she smiled. Indeed, Starlene's birth was induced by their love making. He wasn't sure if it was a coincidence but she was right to be concerned about it.

"Exactly. I don't want to induce labor while we're away in the mountains far from the birthing center." She said and he nodded.

"Okay, honey. Maybe we can try and do it after we get back from Chad's wedding. I mean, you do want the baby to turn, right?" He asked.

"Of course! I don't want to end up having a C-section if I could." She replied.

"Okay." He nodded.

He stopped the car right next to a fuel dispenser and got out of the car. A cold breeze entered the car and he felt something cold dropped on his nose.

"Mommy, daddy, snow!" Starlene pointed out towards the sky.

"Oh yeah, it is snowing. Beautiful isn't it?" Y/n responded.

Soft snow had started to fall from the sky, specks of white layered the ground and parts of their car.

Sebastian picked up the fuel nozzle and put it into the car's fuel tank inlet. He rubbed his hands as it felt really cold and vapor had started to come out from his nose.

As he waited for the gas tank to fill he remembered the weather forecast he listened to earlier in the taxi. Looks like it was correct. It really started to snow that night.

A sudden gust of cold strong wind suddenly passed him and he shivered. Snow started to fall even harder on them. He checked the fuel meter on the fuel dispenser and decided it was enough. He immediately pulled out the fuel nozzle, returned it to its place and closed the fuel cap. He opened the door of the car and welcomed the warm breeze coming out of it as he sat down and closed the car door shut. The radio was on as he started to drive the car out of the gas station and he turned the windshield wiper on.

"And now for some updates on the weather forecast. As forecasted, New York City, New Jersey and the surrounding area are experiencing snow fall tonight. Moderate to strong snow storm is expected to arrive starting Saturday morning and will clear up by Sunday. It is highly advised to stay indoors during this time." a female weather forecaster announced on the radio.

"Snow storm tomorrow morning? That's not good." Sebastian shook his head.

"I know. Poor Chad and Madeline. Aren't their ceremony supposed to be held outdoors?" She asked.

"Yeah. Up on the mountains." He sighed.

"Do you want to give him a call?" She asked.

"Chad? No, I'm sure he's busy with the rehearsal dinner. And I'm sure they have a back up plan should a snow storm really happen." He responded.

"Okay." She nodded.

It was 8 when they finally left New York City and headed into the suburbs. Snow continued to fall throughout their journey. Coupled with the fact that it was night time, at times he found it hard to see the road. So he drove slowly and avoided going too fast.

Throughout the journey he told Y/n about his adventure earlier rescuing Adriana as well as the anxiety-inducing incident on the plane that caused the oxygen masks to drop.

"Wow. That must have been really scary." She commented.

"Yeah, it was. I kept thinking about you, Starlene and little bean." He said as he reached out to pat her bulging stomach.

"I wasn't ready to die. I didn't want to miss seeing both of my kids grow up. You know." he said as he felt her warm hand on top of his and felt her squeezing it gently.

"Well, I'm so glad you're here now, Iubirea mea." She turned to him and smiled.

"I'm so glad too, honey." He glanced at her and smiled.

"Hmm.." Y/n shifted in her seat and rubbed her stomach.

"What is it, honey?"

"I think.. wait.. yeah.. I'm having contractions again." she said and his heart seemed to stop.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah.. but it's okay. Keep going. It's probably another false alarm."

"Honey, are you sure?"

"Yeah yeah. Keep going. Let's just see how long this one lasts and how often."

"Okay. We're about two hours away from the house Chad rented. We can still make a turn and go south to Morristown." He said as he glanced at the satnav.

The birthing center they had decided to go to for the birth of their baby was at Morristown, New Jersey, southwest of New York City while Chad's wedding venue was located northwest of New York City.

"Yeah, okay. Just keep going, Iubirea mea." she said and he nodded.

The contractions came again several times in the next hour but it came sporadically. It didn't seem to hurt too much either. By the time they entered Roxbury two hours later it had completely stopped. So they concluded it was another Braxton Hicks contraction.

"Sweetheart, maybe you're just dehydrated. I read Braxton Hicks can happen because of dehydration." He said as he drove his car to the small street where the house Chad rented was located.

"Yeah, maybe. I was kind of tired too today. These two have been testing my patience to the limit." She said, pointing her thumb at the backseat and he laughed.

"They are quite a troublesome duo huh?" He commented.

"That's an understatement." she sighed and he laughed again.

"Well, I'm going to fully help you now until the baby is born and for at least three months after that. So don't worry about it, okay?" He said, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

"Yeah. Thank you, Iubirea mea." She squeezed his hand back and smiled at him.

"You're very welcome, my love." he smiled back and she blushed. He loved seeing her blush. She always looked so pretty when she did, making his heart warm.

"So, here we are." He said, turning his attention back to the street and stopped right in front of a house behind a long wooden fence. Another car was parked behind the fence right on the driveway, it was Chad's car.

He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Chad's number.

"Hey Chad. We're here." He said into his cellphone moments later.

"Okay. I'll be right out." Chad replied.

"Okay. Thanks." He nodded then hung up.

The front door of the house was opened and Chad came out, waving his hand and smiling at them. He opened the wooden fence and Sebastian drove the car into the driveway and parked next to Chad's car.

"Hey man, so glad to see you finally make it here." Chad shook his hand and gave him a brief hug as soon as he got out of the car.

"Yeah, I'm so glad too! It's been an adventure trying to get here." he chuckled.

"Oh yeah! I saw you on the news! You're a real life hero huh?" Chad commented and he just laughed.

"Come, come in, I've set up the fireplace." Chad said and he guided them all to enter the house.

The house, well, more like the cottage, was a two story cottage with wooden walls and floors. It had a rustic charm with a red and green color scheme in the interior making it feel like it was Christmas. It consisted of a warm and homey living room, well equipped kitchen, spacious bathroom with a bath and two bedrooms fit for four people.

With help from Chad, he put all their luggage in the cottage while Starlene, Y/n and Lucky went inside and settled in.

By the time they were done putting all the luggages in the cottage, snow had fallen even harder that it was more than likely a snow storm was coming.

"So, seeing how the weather is like, any change of plans for tomorrow?" Sebastian asked as they sat on the sofa in the living room.

"Yeah, we were supposed to have the ceremony in the morning up on the mountains but if it's not possible, we're just going to have the ceremony indoors in the reception building." Chad replied.

"Okay. Sounds like a good plan." He nodded.

"Yeah. I just hope the road will still be accessible. There's a shovel in the garage by the way in case you need to use it in the morning." Chad said.

"Okay. Thanks. Where are you and Madeline staying by the way?"

"Oh, we rented a large house about a quarter mile from the venue. All her family and my family are staying there." Chad replied.

"Okay. You're not staying in the same room as her are you?"

"Of course not!" Chad laughed. "You know she's a wedding planner. She knows all the dos and don'ts and all the superstitions about weddings. It's kind of frustrating at times, but I know she means well."

"Yeah. Based on my own experience, you should follow through with it." He responded, remembering the disastrous events happening during his wedding and honeymoon.

"Yeah, I'm trying my best. Anyway, it's kind of late, I better get going." Chad said and he stood up.

"Alright, see you in the morning, man. Try and get some sleep." He stood up and gave Chad a brief hug.

"Thanks, man. See you." Chad smiled and clapped his back.

Once Chad was gone he looked around and found Lucky, sleeping on a rug in front of the fireplace. He went into one of the bedrooms and found Starlene already tucked in bed, sleeping soundly. He walked closer to her, leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. She shifted a little but didn't wake up. It seemed she was really tired. He caressed her head gently and smiled, thankful he was still alive after the eventful journey from Atlanta and was able to see his daughter again.

A warm hand surrounded his waist and he was startled. He looked to the side and found Y/n, standing next to him and circling her arm around his waist.

"She looks so peaceful and innocent." She commented and he nodded as he placed his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it.

"But it all changes when she wakes up." she complained, making him laugh.

"How did she find those toilet papers?" He asked, remembering the mess Starlene and Lucky had made earlier that day in their apartment.

"Well, you know I keep the toilet papers in the lower cupboard in the bathroom. She found them." she sighed.

"She's a smart girl." he chuckled.

"Yeah. I moved them to another cupboard and locked it."

"Okay, I guess we need to inspect everything else that is within her reach. Especially things like detergent, soap, drugs and things like that and then move them somewhere she can't reach." He suggested.

"Yeah. I already did. Spent the day today doing that before the contraction happened." she replied.

"Hey, maybe that's the cause of the false contraction. You know tiredness can cause that, aside from dehydration."

"You know what, you're right. Maybe I was too tired." she sighed.

"Let's get to bed then. I'm tired too. It's been such a long day." he suggested.

"Okay." She nodded and they went to the other bedroom hand in hand.

Despite feeling tired, being in close proximity with her made his desire arise. He knew it wasn't really the longest time that they hadn't made love. They survived three months without seeing each other right before their wedding so theoretically they should survive just two weeks without seeing each other. But being close to her that night on the bed and seeing her beautiful face sleeping next to him inevitably made him turned on. She truly was the only woman who could make him feel this way.

She was sleeping on her right side facing him and he laid down on his left facing her too. He glanced down and saw her cleavage underneath her nightgown and he swallowed hard.

"Honey.. wake up." He whispered.

"Hmm.. what is it?" her eyes slowly fluttered open and she looked up at him curiously.

"I.. umm.. I'm really sorry sweetheart. I know you're tired but I'm still feeling kind of tense, if you know what I mean." He said, his eyes went downwards where he could feel himself starting to harden down there.

"Oh Seb, you know I don't want to induce labor up here in the mountains." She protested, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"I know.. I'm sorry. But maybe you could just.. you know." He said, blushing again as he raised his hand up and realization dawned in her.

"Please.." He said, giving her puppy dog eyes and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine, come here you big puppy." She said as she pulled his head by the neck and started kissing him passionately. He smiled as they kissed and soon was lost in the act of love and passion.

Before they knew it they ended up making love that night, expressing all the love and lust they always had for each other for the past twenty three years. He felt really lucky to be married to her. There was nothing else better than feeling completely in love with your significant other all the time. He knew it was something rare in the world having his fair share of heartbreaks, so he treasured it as much as he could.

"I love you so much, my love, my queen." He whispered as he held her tight after they reached the peak of pleasure together.

"I love you so much too, Iubirea mea." She whispered back and her arms held him tight.

For a moment he felt at peace as they continued to hold each other, unwilling to let the other go. Then he felt her tensed under his arms.

"D**n!" She cursed as she let go of him and held her bulging stomach.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" He asked in concern.

"I think.. I think the baby had turned." She said, her eyes scrunched up in pain.

"Oh really? That's great then." He smiled.

"Yeah. I usually feel it kick my bladder but this time I feel the kick on my ribs." She explained.

"Well, that's great. No need to do the ECV procedure then."

"Yeah. Thank God."

"Are you still in pain?"

"No, but.. d**n!" She exclaimed out loud as she held her lower back with her hand.

"Another contraction?" He asked in concern.

"Yup." She sighed as she rubbed her lower back.

"Okay. Here, let me help rub your back and we'll see what happens." He said as he reached his hand around her and started to gently rub her back.

"Thank you Iubirea mea. That feels good." She smiled.

"You're welcome, honey." He said as he kissed her forehead gently.

For the next hour the contraction kept on coming and it became even closer together. There was no doubt that Y/n could really be in labor. So they called their midwive from the birthing center in Morristown to ask for her advice. After listening to her advice, which was to monitor the contraction again within the next hour, they concluded that she could really be in labor.

"Seb, it's snowing really hard out there. Are you sure about this?" She asked as they prepared to go to Morristown.

"But honey, you could really be in labor. You need to get to the birthing center. At least to get yourself checked." He reasoned.

"Yeah.. but maybe we could at least wait until the sun is out. I mean, you could hardly see out there with all the snow."

"Sweetheart, are you sure? What if the baby comes out here before we get the chance to get to the birthing center."

"Seb, do you remember how long it took for Starlene to come out after I first felt the contraction?"

"Yeah, I remember." He sighed. It took twenty nine hours for Starlene to come out since Y/n started to feel the contraction.

"So I think it's much safer to wait until morning."

"Well. Okay. If you're sure."

"I am sure." she insisted and he could only nod.

However her feelings changed within the next three hours. The contractions came much more often and much closer together and it had become rather painful that she finally agreed to go to the birthing center.

It was 4 in the morning when they got out of the house and drove to Morristown. Starlene and Lucky were both woken up from their sleep and were forced to come because they didn't want to bother their friends and asked them to take care of Starlene and Lucky.

Unfortunately, the snow storm had started as Sebastian drove the car slowly down the mountain. On his right Y/n was grunting and trying hard to withstand the pain while in front of him fierce wind blew snow onto the front window, obscuring his view. The sun wouldn't come out until a few hours from now and he didn't dare to speed up with the dangerous condition.

"Seb! Why are you driving so slowly?!" Y/n asked in between contractions.

"Honey, I can barely see! I don't want to get us into an accident!" He protested.

"But the baby is coming, Seb!" She protested.

"I know, honey. I know. I'm driving as fast as I can, okay? Hang in there." he said as he reached out and placed his hand on her stomach.

Y/n didn't answer him and instead she resorted to using the hypnobirthing method to try and ease the pain.

"That's it, honey. That's it. You're doing great." He said, trying to calm her down even though deep down he felt extremely nervous.

"Aaarghhh.." Y/n exclaimed in pain prompting Lucky to bark and Starlene to start crying.

"Oh dear." Sebastian sighed as he listened to all of them.

"Starlene, dear, please don't cry. It's okay. Mommy is okay. Your sibling is about to be born. You should be happy." He said as he looked at the rear view mirror and saw Starlene still crying her heart out.

Among all the loud voices he suddenly heard a rumbling sound coming from above them.

"What the h**l." He looked up and his heart beat so fast in his chest as he saw the massive body of snow coming at them from above the mountain.

"Seb.. it's an avalanche!" Y/n shouted in panic.

"I know!" He said as he stepped on the gas and tried to avoid the avalanche.

The rumbling sound felt so close to him that for a split second he was sure they were all going to be buried underneath it. But he suddenly realized they were on a straight road now for several miles up ahead and decided to speed up even more.

"Hang on, honey!" He yelled as he stepped on the gas and the car sped up quickly on the road. The ground shook as the avalanche finally reached the ground behind them missing them by inches.

"That was so close!" He exclaimed as he glanced back for a second and saw the large pile of snow behind him.

"Oh no.. no.. no.." Y/n suddenly said out loud.

"What? What is it, honey?" He asked, his heart still racing after their near death experience.

"I think my water just broke!" She replied and his heart plummeted. He glanced at the satnav and saw that they were still one and a half hours away from the birthing center.

"What should we do?" He asked as his brain tried to remember anything from the birthing classes he had attended or the numerous pregnancy books and articles he had read.

"I don't know! Aaarghhh! The baby is coming, Seb! I can feel it!" She shouted, making him feel even more panicked.

"Hang in there, honey. Try to raise your feet up." He said as he remembered something he read in a pregnancy book on what to do when the water broke.

"I can't!" She protested and he realized that the space on the front passenger seat was too narrow for her to be able to raise her feet up.

"This is all your fault! Aaarghh..!" She protested as he continued to drive, not knowing what else to do.

"If only you didn't ask me to have sex earlier, I wouldn't be in labor now!" She continued angrily and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

"I'm sorry, honey. I really am." He said, glancing at her for a second and felt his heart break seeing her in so much pain.

"I'm trying to drive as fast as I can. Please hang in there, honey." He pleaded.

She didn't respond and when he glanced at her again she was reaching down, her hand trying to reach under her nightgown.

"Seb.." she said slowly.

"What?" He asked, dreading her next sentences.

"I can feel the baby's head.." she responded.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes! I can feel his head and his hair!"

"Oh dear.." he didn't know what else to say.

"Seb, stop the car! Help me deliver the baby!" She shouted, startling him.

"But.. but.. I can't!" He protested.

"Aaaarghhh.. I'm pushing now! I can't hold it anymore!" She shouted again.

"No honey, hold it! Don't push now!"

"Seb! God d**n it! Just stop the car and help me deliver the baby!" She shouted and he had no choice but to obey.

He pulled over and stopped the car on the side of the road. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. Cold breeze hit his face as he ran to the other side of the car. He opened the back passenger door and encouraged Lucky to go to the back of the car. Then he helped Y/n to push the backrest of her seat so she could lie down.

She raised her feet up and he knelt on the ground next to her then helped pull her underwear down and that's when he saw it, the top of his baby's head. He felt dizzy as he saw it. He couldn't believe he was going to help his wife deliver their baby in the car in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm no less!

"Seb! I'm pushing!" She exclaimed and he nodded.

"Okay.. you can do it, honey. Push!" He held her hand and encouraged her as she started to push, her eyes scrunched up in pain.

Slowly he could see the head of his baby came out even more, but when half of it came out, she stopped pushing.

"I can't.. " she complained as she tried to catch her breath.

"Okay, it's fine. Take a breather. Wait until the next round of contraction comes. Then you push again, okay? You can do it, sweetheart, I know you can." He said as he caressed the side of her face and she nodded.

"Good, that's it sweetheart, take a deep breath." He said as he stood up and kissed her forehead.

"Daddy.. is mommy okay?" Starlene chimed in and he smiled.

"Yes, your mommy is giving birth to your sibling, Starlene. Soon you'll have someone to play with." He smiled and Starlene just nodded.

"Seb! He's coming!" Y/n shouted.

"Okay, okay. Take a deep breath. That's it. Now push!" He said as he knelt again beside her and watched the head of his baby come out even more.

Several more pushes from her and their baby's head finally came out fully. He gently pulled the baby all out from her womb and the baby started crying. He immediately took off his jacket and covered him with it. Yes, their baby was indeed a baby boy.

He looked down and gently cleaned the baby's face and head with some tissues. He couldn't help but shed a tear as he continued to clean the baby. He couldn't believe they successfully delivered him out into the world amidst an unbelievable situation.

"Seb.. I want to see him." Y/n reached out her hand and he immediately put the baby in her arms.

"You did amazing, sweetheart. He's perfect." He smiled and he kissed her forehead again.

"He is. He looks just like you." She smiled as she carried the baby and gently rocked him.

"What should we name him?" She asked.

"I know the perfect name. James Adrian Stan. James after James Buchanan Barnes, the strongest man I know and Adrian after Adriana, the bravest girl I know." He smiled.

"James Adrian Stan. It's perfect." She smiled.

"Come and meet your new baby brother, Starlene." He said as he went to the backseat and took Starlene off from her car seat.

Starlene stood in the middle of the car and looked down.

"My brother." She said, extending her hand towards the baby.

"Yes, Starlene, this is Adrian. Adrian, this is Starlene." Sebastian said, smiling as he saw Starlene extended her index finger and Adrian caught it between his hands. He felt his heart warm as he witnessed their children's interaction and felt immense gratitude.

He opened his arms wide and embraced them all in his arms. Despite the extraordinary circumstances, he was elated and happy to welcome their baby boy into the world. He was sure there would be more happiness and adventures up ahead and as long as he had his perfect family with him, he was ready for whatever comes their way.

[lifekisses]

//   (  savannah  lee  smith  .  cisfem  .  she&her  )  .    ⸻  bronte  dubois  ,  a  twenty  four  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  most  of  their  life  .  the  pastiche  is  known  for  being  dauntless  and  emotionally  distant  and  is  often  associated  with  the  haunting  of  a  child  -  hood  robbed  away  ,  promises  to  never  be  like  your  mother  yet  wearing  the  same  battered  shoes  on  the  parallel  rocky  path  ,  turmoil  twisting  your  gut  and  pumping  your  veins  ;  a  sugary  disposition  because  you  can’t  give  anyone  a  reason  to  compare  you  ;  battery  acid  down  your  throat  as  you  swallow  the  words  you  wish  to  say  .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as  a  nurse  at  red  creek  hospital  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted  .

୧ ও 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒. ଓ ৴

full name : bronte dubois . nickname(s) : b , bronny , most commonly known by ronnie . occupation : pediatric nurse at red creek hospital . birthday + age : july seventh , two thousand , twenty four years old . gender + pronouns : cisfemale , she / her . orientation : bisexual , biromantic . birthplace + hometown : red creek , michigian . education : bachelors degree in nursing . spoken languages : english , french . parents : cheyenne dubois ( mother . french - american , former emergency room nurse at red creek hospital ) . father rumored to be casimir parrish around the time of her mothers pregnancy , such whispers stopped after jacob thornes death . siblings : none . children : none . pets : none . faceclaim : savannah lee smith . eye color : brown . hair color + style : brown , a little past shoulder length with curtain bangs and layered . often worn straight and usually up in a ponytail at work . height : five feet , seven inches . build : slim , athletic . tattoos : none . piercings : seven ear piercings , same placements on both ears . scars + marks : two inch scar on the side of her right knee from an accident during her teenage years . horoscope : cancer . resembled characters : matilda , clarice starling from the silence of the lambs , katniss everdeen from the hunger games , ellen ripley from alien , kook yeonsu from our beloved summer , rosa diaz from b99 . traits : ambitious , analytical , adaptable , assertive , cautious , dependable , disciplined , efficient , empathetic , honest , independent , intuitive , meticulous , observant , perceptive , resilient , wise . drug + alcohol use : limited alcohol intake , no substance usage . disorders : insomnia . habits : daily runs around town , though the time varies . refuses to be on a set schedule , paranoia that it can be tracked . avid redbull drinker , mixes it with lemonade and calls it her morning smoothie . clears her throat before delivering bad news to patients . drives with one hand . likes : tba . dislikes : tba . allergies : none . scent(s) : tom fords lost cherry , room 1015 wavechild , le labo neroli 36 , diptyque vetyverio , baccarat rouge 540

୧ ও 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. ଓ ৴

trigger warnings of drug use , death , toxic environment centered around family life . these will be briefly mentioned and will be tagged with tw before appearance .

cheyenne dubois moved to red creek michigan from brooklyn new york when she was twenty four years old . the daughter of two french immigrants had always resonated with the city life and would've sworn she would live her entire life in new york . but when sent on a nursing travel contract to red creek , she ended up falling in love with the small town and after a contract extension , stayed and made the place home . but the city girl in her never truly left . cheyenne was known around red creek for being larger than life . the type to walk around in fashionable clothes , always over - dressed . you heard her presence before you saw her . she was well liked around town , some considered her a breath of fresh air , she was the type that befriended just about everyone and also the type that jumped from relationship to relationship in town . while the first few years in town it was blatantly obvious she was an outsider , as time went on she had found a way to nestle herself into the crooks of the town . after a while , there wasn't a body that could remember a time where cheyenne wasn't a part of red creek .

tw : mentions of death and the murders . 1999 found cheyenne in a secret whirl - wind relationship with new townie casimir parrish . the pair insisted between each other it was no strings attached , especially since both were known to be heart - breakers around town . but in a town as small as red creek , rumors flew even if neither confirmed nor denied them . when the murder of heather visser happened in october 1999 , cheyenne was easily spooked . a bitter pill to swallow that someone in their small town could kill someone . everyone was pointing fingers , making accusations , a once tight community had turned ugly and frightening . cheyenne did her best to not make any assumptions , she wanted to give the benefit of the doubt to her neighbors and friends . but after the death of ezra hastings , things became more complicated in the town . while fingers were being pointed at jacob thorne , cheyenne found it difficult to throw a rock his way . he was a pariah in their town but she'd never had ill feelings towards the male . he had been the man who taught her how to change a tire when she first moved to town , who she called when her ac broke in her home multiple times , who quietly had fixed her porch steps one summer . they weren't friends but she couldn't bring herself to condemn him . in act of empathy , cheyenne reached out to him to show support . she didn't believe it was him , she wanted him to know one person believed him if nothing else . the two would form a friendship then , hushed and never for anyone to know . when dasom disappeared , cheyenne still believed him . it was only when casimir was murdered next , did doubt start to creep . little by little , she was distancing herself . all the stress caused a lot on her body and what she believed was just a late period revealed itself as a pregnancy . cheyenne was pregnant . and she had only been with two people in the last month , a random passing through town and casimir parrish . rumors began to float , the town people pitying her for both the pregnancy and his death . when jacob landed himself in the er , after a nasty fight , the two got into a heated argument and a few weeks later he took his own life . the guilt ate at her , the terrors manifested into her dreams , there was a dark cloud looming over her . cheyenne would never be the same again . end of tw !

tw : mentions of drug usage , depression . after the birth of bronte , cheyenne battled with depression throughout her maternity leave from the hospital . she could still see the pity in some peoples eyes , even if the whispers about who her baby daddy was had stopped . she found it difficult to even look at her child . she took every step possible in creating distance with her child . she didn't breastfeed , she didn't hold her , she let the little girl cry into the night until her lungs burned . one night , she had broken down crying on the phone to her parents saying she couldn't do it . so they flew from new york to michigan , under the impression that they'd be helping their daughter not raising a new one . but cheyenne took it as a way out . she attempted to act as if she never had a child to begin with . she went back to work and it wasn't until her fifth shift back in the hospital that she began to use drugs as a crutch . the high that came from them helped with the fog that had began to take over her being . what started as a little bit to help quickly turned into an addiction , something her parents refused to acknowledge . when bronte turns seven , her grandparents head back to new york . the young girl is sufficient enough , they say . they didn't want to raise her , they had simply wanted to help their daughter get it together . she was a functioning addict , they claimed , so it was fine to leave bronte with her mother for good . the reality of it was , they didn't care what ended up happening to either of them . end of tw !

bronte raises herself while the ghost of her mother floats in and out of her life . she's the one who gets herself ready for school , she's the one who gets herself to school , her meals are provided by the school and she's deliberate in the way she splits it up always leaving a bit for dinner at home . there wasn't a set schedule to when her mother would be around . sometimes the high would make her go away for days , sometimes the crash meant her mother would be home three nights in a row . her mother is not able to keep her job , but she'd quit on one of her good days citing that she was on a travel contract to a town two hours away . the commute would be difficult , she'd explain when asked about bronte , but the pay was good . there was no reason for anyone to detect a lie , her mother had always been a good actress . bronte didn't know what her mother did when she was gone but the light bill would be paid by her grand - parents . the least they could do for leaving the girl alone .

throughout the stages of her growth , cheyenne attempts sobriety a handful of times . but bronte is never sure which version of her mother she likes best , the ghost or the haunted . the haunted retells her stories of 1999 , the entire year . the beginning of the year , about when winter turns into spring and life was good . cheyenne was in love , she was free , even at the age of thirty she had her whole life in front of her . this part of the story is hopeful , young . spring warms into summer , there's heat and birds and sunshine . there's road - trips and sets at the bar , and reckless moments . the innocence of spring grows into a brash being . summer into fall , the weather gets chilly and cozy . her words become clipped when she speaks , it's clear she's overcome with something . and then october , dreaded october to december . her mothers eyes get clouded , overcome with emotion and fear . there's little that she understands as her mother keeps speaking because she's bawling , struggling to breathe . as a child , bronte could envision living throughout that time with the detail her mother would give . and even at a young age , bronte knew she could never tell others just how close her mother was to the murders .

cheyenne disappears , for good , the eve of brontes sixteenth . at first , she thinks its just the cycle shes always been on . she'll leave , but she'll also be back . except she never does come back . there's no note , there's no explanation . she's been abandoned once and for all . even if she's never quite been parented , she had her mother at times . now she had no one . and she was only sixteen , she didn't know what would happen to her if others knew about her mothers disappearance so she keeps it to herself . like she always has . it isn't until she's eighteen years old that she can freely tell the town cheyenne moved back to new york , another lie but maybe it'll be the last . maybe now she can finally not feel guilt about the way she smiles in her neighbors face but locks her doors at night .

and bronte swears she'll never be like her mother . she's not larger than life , she's calm like the ocean before a stone is thrown into it . she's not reckless , she's controlled . she's not known as a vixen , she's non - committal . but she has a bleeding heart , she has a desire to help others . she's gifted . she finds herself following her mothers career path into nursing . she graduates from undergrad , declares her major . gets her bachelors . becomes a nurse at red creek hospital . it's as if life is playing a joke on her , setting her up in the same path her mother had in town .

୧ ও 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. ଓ ৴

is known around town for being empathetic , intelligent , social . she did her best from a young age to be involved in town but fly under the radar to not raise suspicions about the whereabouts of her mother . because of this , she's almost curated a perfectly distant personality to practically everyone . she's well - liked , knows everyone in town . but it's very much a ' you swear you know her until someone asks you a few questions about her and you realize you don't really know her ' kind of vibe . there's an exception for a handful of people that maybe do know the truth / the real her . to the older gen , those who knew her mother or maybe some that moved afterwards , she's polite , caring , well - mannered . they view her as a charming little girl ( think the way matilda carried herself at a young age ) but here and there she'll hear a comment about how she looks just like her mother did at that age , how they remember her mother having just moved to town at her age . to the younger gen , those who grew up alongside her or a few years before or after , she's a smart ass . she has a quick temper , a sharp tongue , a brilliant mind , a wavering spirit and a hard heart ( think davina claire , octavia blake inspired ) so she doesn't take shit from anyone . she's just a girl but a badass one ! ksgnsjngsgnjksdgkjs has a horrible , horrible sleep schedule . started from a young age because of her mothers inability to be stable but then continued on . in high school , she had a lot of restless nights and often sought out the town after dark rather than hole herself up in her room . began working around town from the age of fifteen , as a way to have money in her pocket since her mother was not bringing any cash in . this turned out to be a blessing when her mother left because she had a steady enough income to keep the lights on at home and put food on her table . athletic . was on the high school soccer team until her junior year when she decided it was taking away time that she could be working . regardless she's an avid runner and swimmer to this day . with the disappearance of daniela and the murder of alaina , bronte wants out of red creek . because of the obsession she has about not turning out like her mother , she's becoming a bit paranoid that 1999 is happening again in red creek and she refuses to turn haunted like her mother .

୧ ও 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃. ଓ ৴

i am Embarrassed to write more but i do have a tag for wanted connections here so pls feel free to browse ! i also have a lot in my head and would love to find a plot with everyone so <3

[pinkscaped]

🩰𓈒 ⋆ ⑅ ˚ ₊ ୨୧      ANALISE was a soloist under FLOWERBANK Entertainment. She was once a member of ALLUME's THIRD GENERATION as their main vocalist and center. Once graduating the group in 2015, Analise would go on to have a prolific solo career and was on the rise to being the top-performing soloist under Flowerbank. Tragically, just three years after her solo debut in 2019, she passed away in hospital due to unknown reasons. In 2021, sasaengs of the late singer would go on to reveal she died of a drug overdose in an attempt to tarnish her name even after death.

TW // DEATH, CHILD EXPLOTATION, ONLINE HARASSMENT, AND DRUG OVERDOSE.

🩰𓈒 ⋆ ⑅ ˚ ₊ ୨୧     CHAPTER   ONE.     ──     HUMBLE   BEGINNINGS.

Analise Yan was born in Brooklyn, New York on December 21st, 1997 to an Irish-American mother and a Chinese father. Her mother was a set designer and her father was a talent manager. Analise has no memories of her life without a camera in her face, her first memory being of her on the early 2000's sitcom "Our House" when she was just three years old. She had a very successful acting career, becoming a silver-screen darling before age ten. She scored multiple TV show roles, direct to VHS/DVD movie roles, and began a music career.

Her music career was primarily targeted towards children her own age, performing on the Disney channel and having her music videos showcased on Nickelodeon. In 2007 at just ten years old, she starred in the popular and now classic Nick TV show iCarly as the character "Melody" who acted as Carly and Spencer's youngest sister.

Her run on iCarly was shortlived as in the second season in 2008, she would leave the show due to unknown reasons and would disappear from the American entertainment industry for good.

🩰𓈒 ⋆ ⑅ ˚ ₊ ୨୧     CHAPTER   TWO.     ──     THRID  GENERATION.

After she vanished from the American limelight, Analise shocked many by appearing in the Korean Pop Scene. At just 13 years old, she debuted in the third generation of ALLUME. During their debut ceremony, Analise revealed she had begun training in 2008 after leaving iCarly. She also would say she was a big fan of f(x), 2NE1, and Wonder Girls and they inspired her to take up Flowerbank's offer to begin training for the third generation of Allume.

Though showing exceptional talent at just 13 in singing and dancing, she was heavily scrutinized by netizens for a multitude of reasons. From her mixed heritage to her "annoying" persona, she seemed to be the target of online harassment. The harassment continued off-screen as well, often being yelled at by fans of the other members to "get out of the way" or having marriage proposals shouted at her.

Despite having a hate train against her, she remained one of the most popular members during her run in Allume many comparing her to the likes of Jung Krystal or Bae Suzy in terms of icon status and notoriety. She's easily considered one of the most widely-known idols in South Korea in the 2010s.

🩰𓈒 ⋆ ⑅ ˚ ₊ ୨୧     CHAPTER   THREE.     ──     SOLOISMS  .

After her graduation from Allume in 2015, she instantly began her highly anticipated solo career. She debuted solo just a month after her graduation with the mini album "Graduation" with the promotional track "I'm Shy" which became an instant chart-topper and K-pop classic.

The success of her debut would be repeated with each comeback, growing in fame and popularity with every performance she gave. In every sense of the word, Analise was a star. You could not walk down the street without seeing her face or hearing her music.

She picked up acting again in 2016, acting in her first major movie role in "The Train to Busan" to major success. She also starred in "My Annoying Brother" and made her drama debut in "Love In Our Hands" as the lead actress. Her acting was highly praised, with many saying Analise is the perfect all-rounder and can do anything she sets her mind to.

Throughout her musical career, she had six mini-albums, seven singles, and three full albums. You can find her discography on the Flowerbank Website (WIP).

🩰𓈒 ⋆ ⑅ ˚ ₊ ୨୧     CHAPTER   FOUR.     ──     THE  CONCLUSION.

In the early morning of June 15th, just two weeks after announcing her third full album, news broke that an unnamed idol had been rushed to the hospital via ambulance under mysterious circumstances. This news sent social media into a frenzy as people attempted to uncover the identity of the idol and the nature of the incident.

For about three hours, netizens engaged in wild speculation, tossing around various names in an attempt to solve the mystery. Eventually, the Seoul police department stepped in, issuing a statement that identified the hospitalized idol as Analise Yan, who was in critical condition. However, the specific reason for Analise's hospitalization was never disclosed due to "personal reasons," a detail that sasaeng fans did not respect.

Sasaeng fans began making numerous harassing calls to various hospitals in an effort to uncover the truth behind Analise's condition. This prompted the police to issue another statement, warning of legal consequences for anyone who continued to pester hospitals for information.

Finally, after five hours of intense speculation and uncertainty, Flowerbank Entertainment released a statement on behalf of Analise.

"Hello, We are Flowerbank Entertainment, During the early hours of the morning, our beloved artist, Analise, required immediate medical attention and was transported to the hospital under urgent circumstances. To safeguard her privacy and well-being, we must emphasize that the specific reasons for her hospitalization will not be disclosed. We are committed to taking legal actions against any attempts to breach her privacy. At this moment, Analise's condition remains critical. Regrettably, we are unable to provide additional details. We kindly request your heartfelt thoughts and prayers for Analise as she faces this challenging period. Your unwavering love and support are deeply appreciated. With gratitude, The Flowerbank Entertainment Team"

Tragically, on June 18th Analise passed away in the hospital after three days in the hospital. There are still little to no details about her final days in the hospital. Flowerbank would release a statement around three hours after she passed

"Hello, This is Flowerbank Entertainment, It is with profound sadness and heavy hearts that we must share the devastating news. Our beloved artist, Analise, has passed away at the hospital. Analise fought valiantly during her time in the hospital, but despite the best efforts of the medical team, her condition became insurmountable. She departed peacefully, surrounded by loved ones. We extend our deepest condolences to Analise's family, friends, and all those who cherished her and her artistry. This is an immense loss, not only to Flowerbank Entertainment but to the entire entertainment community. Analise's memory will forever live on through her music and the impact she made on the world. We ask that you continue to keep her in your thoughts and prayers during this incredibly difficult time. In memory of our dear Analise, The Flowerbank Entertainment Team"

Analise's funeral, against the wishes of her family and loved ones, was very publicized. The entire industry mourned the beloved child star turned superstar, all of her co-workers, co-stars, and labelmates attending her funeral as well as other notable celebrities. Hundreds of fans gathered to pay their respects at various balloon-releasing ceremonies and fans held memorial services.

Flowerbank would create a memorial site for Analise in their building for fans to mourn her, leave letters and flowers for her, and celebrate her as an artist. The memorial site is still up in their museum.

At her personal request, Analise was buried at Yeongnak Park in Busan, South Korea, and is where she currently rests.

🩰𓈒 ⋆ ⑅ ˚ ₊ ୨୧     CHAPTER   FIVE.     ──     LIFE  AFTER DEATH.

Even in her passing, Analise continues to hold a special place in the hearts of Flowerbank Entertainment and the broader K-pop community. Her posthumously released third album not only climbed to the top of the digital charts but also sold an impressive 1.5 million copies, solidifying its status as one of Flowerbank's best-selling soloist albums.

The title tracks from the albums "New" and "One Chance" enjoyed a remarkable ten-month reign atop the Goan charts before gradually descending from the top ten. Meanwhile, the B-side track "My Sky" maintained its chart-topping position for an impressive seven months. Furthermore, all the associated music videos garnered over ten million views within just one week, marking a significant milestone in her career.

Every year, Flowerbank Entertainment commemorates Analise's birthday on their social media platforms, as well as the day she departed this world, ensuring that her memory lives on and reminding the world of the star she was.

However, in 2021, despite her enduring popularity, there were those who sought to tarnish her legacy by leaking her hospital records, which revealed the tragic truth that she had succumbed to a drug overdose. This revelation answered the long-standing question surrounding her passing. Flowerbank Entertainment promptly took legal action against the individuals responsible for the leak, who have since refrained from posting online.

Nevertheless, despite these efforts to sully her image, Analise remains an artist who is adored and cherished by countless fans.

[covid-safer-hotties]

NYC Faces Surge in COVID-19 Cases Amid Largest Summer Wave Yet - Published Aug 14, 2024

New York City, like much of the United States, is grappling with a significant summer surge in COVID-19 cases, driven by the latest variant of the virus. Recent data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) indicates that the city is experiencing one of its largest seasonal increases since the pandemic began, with “very high” levels of viral activity detected in wastewater across the five boroughs.

Rising COVID-19 Levels in NYC As of August 9, 2024, New York City joins 27 states across the country that are reporting “very high” levels of COVID-19 viral activity in wastewater, according to the CDC’s updated surveillance data. Another 17 states report “high” levels, signaling a widespread uptick in cases nationwide. Wastewater surveillance has become a critical tool for monitoring the spread of SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, offering a glimpse into potential spikes in transmission before they are reflected in clinical data.

The surge in New York City, which began to escalate in early June, has shown no signs of slowing down. Data reveals a steady increase in viral activity across all five counties: Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island. This has raised concerns among public health officials, especially as the city braces for what could be the most substantial summer wave of COVID-19 to date.

A Nationwide Summer Wave Nationally, the “very high” viral activity level reported by the CDC is the highest classification used by the agency to gauge the severity of COVID-19 spread. States like California, Texas, Florida, and Virginia are among those experiencing the most intense increases, with regions like the South and the West seeing particularly sharp spikes. Even states with lower overall viral levels, classified as “moderate,” are on alert as the trend of rising cases continues.

Dr. Ashish Jha, dean of the Brown University School of Public Health and former White House COVID-19 response coordinator, recently commented on the situation, noting that this current surge could become the largest summer wave the country has seen. While it may not reach the peaks of previous winter waves, the rapid increase in cases is concerning and could potentially strain healthcare resources in the coming weeks.

Impact on Hospitalizations and Testing The surge in COVID-19 cases is not only reflected in wastewater data but also in clinical indicators. The CDC has reported a 13-week increase in positive COVID-19 tests, with the current positivity rate exceeding 17%, up from just 0.3% in early May. This rise in cases has also led to an increase in hospitalizations, which have tripled since the lowest point of the 2023-24 COVID season. As of July 20, the hospitalization rate stood at 3.3%, compared to 1.1% on April 20.

Regions such as Texas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana are reporting some of the highest rates of positive COVID-19 tests, with positivity rates reaching as high as 24% for the week ending August 3. These figures are a stark reminder that, despite the end of the COVID-19 public health emergency declared by the World Health Organization, the virus remains a significant threat.

Preparing for the Fall In response to the ongoing surge, the CDC has reiterated the importance of vaccination as the primary defense against COVID-19. The agency recommends that everyone aged six months and older receive an updated COVID-19 vaccine when they become available this fall. The FDA has advised pharmaceutical companies to develop vaccines targeting the KP.2 strain, also known as the FLiRT variant, which is currently responsible for about 6% of COVID-19 cases nationwide.

Dr. Manisha Patel, chief medical officer for the CDC’s National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, emphasized the importance of maintaining population immunity through vaccination. “Population immunity has moved us out of the pandemic,” Dr. Patel stated. “Now the goal is to ensure that immunity is sustained because it wanes over time. Vaccination remains the safest and most effective way to keep our communities healthy.”

FLiRT Variant Symptoms and Prevention The FLiRT variant, although not as severe as some previous strains, has distinct symptoms that include sore throat, cough, fatigue, congestion, and a runny nose. Some individuals may also experience fever, chills, headaches, muscle aches, and a loss of taste or smell. In more severe cases, gastrointestinal symptoms like diarrhea may occur.

To prevent the spread of the FLiRT variant and other COVID-19 strains, health officials continue to advise the public to avoid crowded indoor spaces, wear masks in high-risk environments, and practice good hygiene. Staying up to date with vaccinations and boosters remains the most effective measure to protect against severe illness.

Conclusion As New York City and the rest of the nation confront this latest COVID-19 wave, public health measures and vigilance are crucial. While the end of the pandemic may be in sight, the ongoing presence of the virus necessitates continued efforts to protect vulnerable populations and mitigate the spread of new variants.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hawkeye (Part III)

Summary: On Christmas Eve, (Y/N) and Steve receive some shocking updates from Clint and after the archers’ fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a Black Widow assassin out for blood at Rockefeller Center, the exhausted duo accepts their hospitality.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! I'm feeling a bit better now, so I've returned with a longer chapter filled with holiday fluffiness! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part III) December 24th, 2024 Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn (Previous Chapter)

“I still can’t believe that people really used to decorate their Christmas trees – their very dead, very dried-out Christmas trees – with lit candles.” (Y/N) shook her head in amazement as they slowly walked past the crumbling gravestones and carefully avoided the piles of snow resting atop the frozen grass on the way down the slope to their parked car. “I mean, weren’t they afraid that they’d accidentally burn their houses down in exchange for a little holiday cheer?”

Steve nonchalantly shrugged and hitched Carina higher up on his waist. “Arsenic was in practically everything, cocaine was prescribed by doctors as medicine, and people guzzled down pure wood alcohol throughout the entirety of Prohibition; trust me, candles on Christmas trees were the least of our worries. Our tree caught fire once when I was ten or eleven and after Ma put it out, she scraped together enough money to buy a secondhand strand of lights and we never put candles on our tree again.” After taking note of her stunned silence, a mischievous smile broke out across Steve’s face. “If you think that sounds crazy, then you probably don’t wanna know why we had to stop putting strings of popcorn and cranberries on the tree…”

“And you’d be absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent correct, sweetheart.”

The morning of Christmas Eve saw the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family visiting the graves of Sarah and Joseph Rogers at Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn’s sole Catholic cemetery; they’d brushed clumps of snow and wayward leaves off the two weathered gravestones, laid bouquets of red and white poinsettias and recounted stories of Christmases past in a continuation of Steve and Sarah’s old yuletide tradition. Typically, Steve never cried or showed much outward emotion whenever they’d visited his mother and father’s gravesite, but that morning he couldn’t seem to keep the happy grin off his face as he held his infant daughter in his arms and explained to his parents that they would soon be giving them a second grandchild. Seeing her husband so happy about having another child and being able to experience the entire pregnancy alongside her always succeeded in causing her heart to warm in her chest, but there was something special about watching him tell his parents about the life that so many people believed – including himself – he’d never be able to live. It’s also given me several ideas of what to do with him after we put Cari down for her nap, she thought with a sultry inward smile, ideas that are a little too risqué to voice in the middle of a Catholic cemetery.

(Y/N) was in the middle of strapping a squirming Carina into her car seat when her cell phone rang. “Sweetheart, could you get that for me?”

“Of course.” He jogged around the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat, grabbing her phone out of her purse and humming in interest when he noticed the name on the screen. “It’s Clint.”

Glancing up from the buckle, (Y/N) shot her husband a knowing look and slowly replied, “That can’t be good…”

Steve nodded in agreement before swiping a thumb across the screen and putting the call on speakerphone. “Hey, Clint; (Y/N)’s hands are a little busy, so I’ve got you on speakerphone. What’s up?”

“Are you guys home right now?”

“We spent the morning laying flowers at Steve’s parents’ graves, and we’re just about ready to head home,” (Y/N) explained, a knot of apprehension beginning to fill the pit of her stomach as she detected the uncharacteristic unease in the archer’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

“We got it wrong, (Y/L/N); it was Eleanor Bishop the whole time. Kate’s mom killed Armand, framed Jack for the murder and forged his connection to Sloan Limited. She’s been working for Kingpin for well over a decade, and Kate only just found out.”

(Y/N), who’d just given Carina her pacifier and a kiss on her forehead, sat back and watched her daughter for a moment before sighing to herself, imagining the overwhelming anger, confusion and hurt that the twenty-two-year-old must’ve felt in reaction to the devastating news. “Poor Kate…how’s she holding up?”

“Better than I thought she would,” Clint replied, and there was a hint of pride in his words as he continued. “Eleanor’s turned on Kingpin and he’s gonna send a message to the city by attacking her company’s Christmas Eve gala, so Kate’s focusing on prepping for tonight’s fight. Those LARPers I told you about are giving us a hand, since most of ‘em are first responders when they’re not dressed up in costumes and pretend-fighting each other with fake weapons, and we’re gonna build as many trick arrows as we’ll need to take out an army of Tracksuits.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve’s hand twitch towards the glove box, where they both agreed to stash several weapons in the event that they were ever attacked by any new or former enemies. “Something else is wrong, isn’t it? Did Kingpin find out about-?”

“-No, no, it’s not that. Eleanor hired a Black Widow assassin to kill me; we had a scuffle last night but they retreated before they could finish their assignment. I just learned this morning that the assassin…it’s Yelena.” (Y/N) and Steve’s gazes met and their eyes widened in identical shock. “And this isn’t just an assignment for her. She’s here to avenge Nat’s death by taking out the one person she thinks is responsible.”

“…Clint, you aren’t responsible for the choices that Nat made. You know that, right?”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the call. “I know, Steve. But chances are she’s gonna show up tonight to complete her assignment, so I wanted to give you a heads-up in case she decides to go after you guys next.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You don’t really think that Yelena would-?”

“Nat told her about you, about how you were one of her best friends; if she’s targeting me, then there’s a chance she’ll target you, too. Just be ready for anything, okay? Booby trap the house Home Alone style if you have to, but don’t let your guards down.” The archer cleared his throat. “I’ve lost enough people in my life, and I don’t wanna lose any more of ‘em. You two read me?”

Although Clint couldn’t see them, a stoic-looking Steve nodded once. “Loud and clear. Good luck out there tonight, Clint.”

“And watch each other’s backs,” (Y/N) added, the barest hint of a smile beginning to play on her lips at the thought of the Tracksuits attempting to take on two skilled archers armed with the deadliest and most imaginative arrows in the world. “I’ve only heard stories from Nat about your plethora of trick arrows, so I look forward to seeing their aftermath on tonight’s newscast…but for Scott’s sake, maybe try and avoid using any Pym Particles.”

The archer chuckled. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want Hank to blow another fuse. I’ll be sure to call you guys after the firefight, okay?”

They bid one another goodbye and after Steve ended the call, he looked up at (Y/N) with a glint of determination in his azure eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) backed out of the car’s backseat and closed the door before slipping into the driver’s seat and sighing. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Brienne,” They both recited at the same time.

Brienne, named for the popular character from Game of Thrones, was an A.I. home defense system that Tony bequeathed to them after his death; according to Pepper, he created it shortly after their engagement announcement as a wedding present but after the Accords and what happened in Siberia, he stowed it away in his archives. It was a thoughtful gift that provided them both with a sense of security, but the A.I. – similar to J.A.R.V.I.S. and E.D.I.T.H. – came with not only a distinct voice, but a distinct and booming yell that was triggered by any movement around the perimeter of their home. The one and only time they’d activated Brienne was when they resided in Maine, and the A.I.’s defensive techniques frightened a passing black bear so badly that it scurried up a pine tree and stayed there for hours. But while (Y/N) was still unconvinced that Yelena Belova would target her in revenge for her sister’s death, she was wary of Kingpin and his considerable forces uncovering her family’s involvement in Clint’s latest mission. I suppose that the annoying A.I. is better than nothing, (Y/N) thought to herself as she switched on the ignition and her husband’s hand moved to rest on her knee, the warmth of his touch working to comfort her as they both silently contemplated their friend’s imminent fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a vengeful Black Widow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“-considerable damage to Rockefeller Center, namely its ice public skating rink and the world-famous Christmas tree. But thanks to the bravery and heroism of Avenger Clint Barton, JOAD Olympian Achievement Award recipient Kate Bishop and a group of off-duty first responders, several dozen members of the organized crime syndicate called the Tracksuit Mafia were apprehended by the NYPD and no injuries were reported by any of the gala’s attendees. Additionally, Eleanor Bishop, CEO of Bishop Security and mother of Kate Bishop, was arrested for the murder of Armand Duquesne the Third, and notorious businessman and crime lord Wilson Fisk was rushed to the Rockefeller University Hospital with life-threatening injuries. After the break, we’ll talk with an eyewitness who claims to have spotted the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man swinging near the scene-”

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose.” (Y/N) remarked with a content sigh, reaching for the remote on the empty couch cushion beside her and switching the channel, settling on a broadcast of A Charlie Brown Christmas before continuing. “I just wish that Kate didn’t have to go through the pain of losing her mother on Christmas Eve.”

Steve, who was sitting behind her and gently massaging circles across her baby bump, pressed a comforting kiss onto her shoulder and rested his cheek on the top of her head as she nuzzled closer to him. “Eleanor chose Kingpin over her own daughter, and now she’s gotta answer for that choice. But Kate’s strong, and if she had the strength to throw herself into danger to do the right thing, then she’ll have the strength to recover from this.”

Something in Steve’s tone of voice made (Y/N) crane her neck to meet his gaze. When she saw the conflicted emotions written across his face and the faraway look in his azure eyes as he watched the cartoon playing on television screen before them, she moved her arm back and softly brushed her fingers through his cropped blonde hair to coax him into looking at her; he blinked and after his eyes finally met hers, she smiled but continued to twirl her fingers around the longer strands of his hair. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Her husband remained silent for a long moment, only answering after (Y/N)’s free hand moved to rest atop one of the hands that was cradling her bump. “Christmas Eve, 2017. Wanda was off visiting Vision and I was alone in a run-down hotel room in Tunis, just waiting for Sam and Nat to come back from a meeting with one of her contacts. While I waited, I was watching this special dubbed in Arabic. I remember sitting there in that room just wishing with everything I had that I could’ve been here with you, and sometimes…sometimes, I try to imagine how different things would’ve been for us if I’d ignored the risks and the mission and come home for Christmas.”

(Y/N)’s smile faltered a little as she realized what he was tentatively referring to; late into December of 2017 was when she’d discovered that she was three months pregnant, and Steve wouldn’t find out about his daughter’s existence until the summer of 2018, when the Black Order invaded and they fought in the Battle of Wakanda. Steve met his daughter that day, only to tragically lose her several hours later in the Snap, and he’d suffered with the grief of her sudden loss alongside (Y/N) for five long years until Bruce’s Snap brought all the Vanished back. “Steve…”

“I know, sunshine, I try not to but I can’t help it-”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” (Y/N) gently reassured him and when Steve took a shaky breath, she cupped his cheek and traced the smile lines around his eye with the feather-light pad of her thumb. “You know that I don’t blame you for not being there, and you know that I’ll never judge you for wondering how different things might’ve been if you were.” Her hand repositioned his to cradle the top of her bump where the baby was currently shifting about, and she couldn’t help but smile at the tender look in her husband’s azure eyes when he felt their unborn child’s faint movements. “But can you feel that? The universe gave us a second chance, Steve; the important thing is that you’re here now, being a fantastic father to Carina and doing everything a loving, loyal husband is supposed to do for his pregnant wife, and every single day, I wake up and I thank the universe for giving us this second chance.”

The worry line between his brows smoothed out as his expression relaxed and he moved one of his hands to rest on the side of her neck, softly stroking her jawline with his thumb before asking, “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Twice, but I could always use another reminder.”

Steve’s lips quirked upwards in amusement at her words. “I love you, baby, with everything I am and more.”

(Y/N) smiled happily up at him. “And I love you too, sweetheart.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she pulled Steve’s face down and he bent around her to capture her lips in a languid yet passionate kiss.

“Lucky, do you really have to go and invade Indy’s personal space like that? I mean, c’mon, you literally just met the guy and you’re already sniffing his business! Boundaries, dude, c’mon.”

Pulling apart, (Y/N) leaned her forehead against Steve’s and let out a breathless chuckle. “I suppose we should be good hosts and check in with our guests. We’ll continue this later, Mr. Rogers.”

Eyes darkening with desire, Steve smirked and lowered his voice before replying, “I look forward to it, Professor (Y/L/N).”

They both stood up from the couch, with (Y/N) doing her best to mask just how much her husband’s use of her title had affected her and with Steve biting back the knowing smile that threatened to break out across his face, and held each other’s hand while they left the living room and strolled into the dining room; Kate Bishop, sporting fresh facial wounds and damp hair from her quick shower, was finishing up her bowl of Kraft Mac & Cheese at the table and giggling to herself while her Golden Retriever and their German Shepard lounged together on the floor by the food and water bowl. The young archer appeared to be in good spirits, despite her near deadly fight with Kingpin himself and aiding the police in arresting her mother for murder, but (Y/N) knew all too well that her cheerful mood would steadily dissipate once the post-battle adrenaline wore off and the reality of her situation set in.

“Did you want some more mac and cheese, Kate, or anything else to drink?”

Glancing up and over at them, Kate adamantly shook her head and flashed them a bright smile. “I’m good, but thank you so much for the offer! Seriously, you guys have already done so much for me and Lucky; you made us a midnight snack, I got a post-battle shower and a fresh change of clothes, and I even got some Grade-A first aid.” The young archer beamed as she gestured to the bandage that stretched across the bridge of her nose. “I mean, who knew that Steve Rogers was good at first aid? I certainly didn’t! You must’ve learned during the war, right?”

“My mother, actually,” Steve corrected, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and giving a surprised Kate an offhand shrug. “I picked a lot of fights with bullies when I was growing up and she was the one who patched me up after each loss.”

“And that never stopped you from confronting the bullies…” Kate looked between them both and shook her head in amazement. “I’m beginning to see why you two get along so well. I, um, I also just want you guys to know that I’m not gonna tell anyone about all this.” Her dark brown eyes met (Y/N)’s, her gaze filled with understanding and an earnest respect. “You were right when you said that there’s things you’ll lose living the life of a superhero; a couple of hours ago, I helped the cops arrest my mom for murder and now I officially have no family. I can’t even imagine the sort of things you two’ve lost along the way, but what you’ve got now? I sure as hell won’t be the one to take this away from you.”

(Y/N) gave the young archer a thankful smile. “We trust you, Kate. And since you’re now privy to some top-secret Avengers intel, I should probably share with you one of the most important lessons I’ve learned as a superhero.” Kate’s brow rose in interest and (Y/N) nodded towards the cluster of framed photographs that were hung above the dining room’s antique sideboard; there was one that showed (Y/N), Steve, Sam and Nat hanging out at a bar, another with (Y/N) and Steve posing next to Tony and Pepper at their engagement party, and one that was taken of the Avengers as they dined on Chinese food takeout and planned their time heist. The last picture was of Sam and Bucky with the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family on the day they broke the news of her second pregnancy to their best friends; Sam was holding Carina on his hip and Bucky tickled her sides to get her to smile for the camera while Steve’s arm was slung around the super-soldier’s shoulders, his other arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist and his hand joining hers in cradling her barely-there baby bump. “A family doesn’t always have to be the one you’re born into. Sometimes, it’s something you get to create for yourself.” Kate’s eyes started to prickle with unshed tears, and she immediately began to blink them away and mask her emotional response with a bright smile, which only made (Y/N)’s sympathy for the upset twenty-two-year-old grow. “This little gumball feels a little restless, so I’m gonna make some hot coca. I’d be more than happy to make enough for everyone…”

Steve, instantly catching on to her line of thinking, lifted their joined hands up and gave her knuckles an exaggerated kiss while subtly winking for just her to see. “Mmm, you know how much I love your famous hot coca, sunshine. You use real milk and imported Belgian chocolate, don’t you?”

“Of course, that’s how it becomes so rich and creamy. I even sprinkle a pinch of gingerbread over the whipped cream to give it that seasonal flair.”

“Gosh, I’d just hate for anyone to miss out on the experience of enjoying such a special beverage…”

Watching their staged exchange with a growing smirk, Kate burst into laughter and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the hint! I’d love some of your famous hot coca, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) beamed in triumph, giving Steve a chaste kiss on the cheek before releasing his hand and striding into the kitchen; as she assembled her ingredients and put the saucepan of milk on the stove to boil, she listened in on Kate and Steve’s conversation about archery, smiling to herself as she imagined her husband comforting their own children in a similar manner. Steve often doubted himself as a father, a habit he’d once confessed partially stemmed from never having known his own father, but (Y/N) never once doubted that the man who was patiently listening to an impassioned rant about the possibilities of various trick arrows in combat situations and even injecting his own opinions for Kate’s benefit was meant to be a father.

“Oooo, (Y/L/N)’s famous hot coca!” (Y/N), who was mixing the chocolate into the simmering milk, glanced over to see Clint enter the kitchen; the archer was toweling his hair dry, mindful of the steri-strips and bruises that littered his face, and the sight of his fluffed-up hair and eager grin forced her to stifle her chuckles. “Need any help with that?”

“Not with this, but could you grab some mugs from the cabinet for me?” He did as she asked, setting four mugs down onto the counter and nodding when she murmured her thanks. Seeing that he was preoccupied with examining the ‘America’s Ass’ mug that Scott sent Steve for his birthday, she took the opportunity to inspect his many visible wounds and winced in sympathy. “I’m looking at Yelena’s handiwork, aren’t I?”

Clint huffed out a humorless chuckle and nodded. “Yep. Not my first time having my ass kicked by a Black Widow, but I don’t remember it hurting as much as it does now.” He sobered when he caught sight of her concerned frown, slinging the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and giving hers a reassuring pat. “I got through to her in the end, and that’s all that matters. And for what it’s worth, she only really seemed pissed at me, so it’s safe to say that you and Steve are in the clear.”

Switching the burner off, (Y/N) took the saucepan off the stove and carefully began pouring the liquid into each mug. “I know that she just tried to kill you a couple of hours ago, but I still can’t help but hope that I’ll get the chance to meet Yelena someday. I spoke with Alexei and Melina over FaceTime after the Battle of Earth and I helped them arrange for Nat’s plot in Ohio…”

“But you haven’t been able to pass along the holographic puck she recorded Yelena’s message on,” Clint finished and pursed his lips in contemplation. “You told Alexei and Melina about the puck, right?” (Y/N) nodded as she reached into the refrigerator for a can of whipped cream. “It’s safe to say that before tonight, Yelena wasn’t ready to accept that Nat’s gone, but now? It’s possible that she’ll be ready for some closure, so don’t be surprised when you open your door to see her standing on your porch one day.”

While she added a sizable swirl of whipped cream to each mug of hot coca and finished them off with a sprinkle of gingerbread, (Y/N) smiled to herself and snuck a brief glance at Clint. “You know, Nat told me once that she counted herself lucky to have the three best siblings in the world; I’ll never forget just how happy that made me, because that was around the time I finally decided to go no contact with my family. She was my sister, in every sense of the word.”

“I know how you feel; back before Laura and the kids, Nat was the only family I had.” The archer’s voice cracked but he managed to muster up a reassuring smile for her. “I know that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me and that that’s something I’m gonna have to live with…” He peered out into the nearby dining room and watched Kate enthusiastically mime firing trick arrows as she talked to Steve, his smile softening and his blue-grey eyes filling with parental pride. “But I think that she’d be proud of what I accomplished with Kate.”

(Y/N) leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss onto Clint’s cheek before giving him a smile of understanding. “I think she would, too. Now c’mon, Hawkeye, let’s go deliver a little Christmas cheer and learn about all the possible applications of boomerang arrows before your guys’ ride to JFK gets here.”

Loading the mugs onto a tray, (Y/N) and Clint joined Steve and Kate at the dining room table, where they enjoyed their hot coca and engaged in a lively debate about the sort of trick arrows that the archers believed could work in a battle; (Y/N)’s hand absentmindedly rubbed across her bump as she watched Clint and Kate’s playful argument, her lips curving into an amused grin that only widened when she caught Steve’s azure eyes and he scooted his chair closer to hers so that he could drape an arm over her shoulders. Not quite how I pictured our little Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going, she silently admitted to herself as she contently rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You still haven’t convinced me that boomerang arrows aren’t an excellent idea, Clint.” Kate stubbornly crossed her arms and turned to (Y/N) and Steve with an expectant look on her face. “Be honest, guys, doesn’t it sound like one of the best ideas you’ve ever heard?”

Ever the diplomat, Steve masked his chuckles with a contemplative hum and shrugged. “I’m not too sure how you’d be able to apply it, but it’s not a half-bad idea.”

Kate fist-pumped the air in triumph while an indignant Clint’s jaw dropped and he whipped his head around to stare at Steve. “Seriously, Rogers? You think it’s a good idea that an arrow should be able to fly back at you after you’ve fired it?”

“To be fair, he never said it was good,” (Y/N) pointed out. “What he said was that it wasn’t a half-bad idea.”

“Thank you, sunshine.” The archer rolled his eyes when Steve leaned over to plant a soft kiss onto her cheek and shot him a mischievous smirk. “All I know is that you could’ve taken out a helluva lot more Chitauri during the Battle of New York if your thirty-two arrows could’ve boomeranged back to you, Barton.”

Kate’s hand quickly moved to clamp over her mouth to muffle her laughter and (Y/N) masked hers with an unconvincing cough as Clint gasped in exaggerated outrage and made a rude hand gesture towards a chuckling Steve. “Damn, Clint, need some aloe for that burn?” Kate snickered and reached across the table to fist-bump Steve. “Thanks for the support, man!” The young archer leapt up from the table and hurried over to the duffel bag she’d deposited in the entryway. “And here, I’ve already thought of how I’d design the arrow!”

“Wait, Kate, you’re gonna trip the-”

“UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONRY DRAWN ON THE PREMISES, MY LORD AND LADY!”

Clint’s hand flew towards his hearing aid and Kate yelped in surprise, poking her head back into the dining room with a shell-shocked expression written across her face. “What the hell was that?!”

With a sigh, (Y/N) set her empty mug down onto her coaster and smiled despite herself. “Brienne.”

“Or as I like to call her, the posthumous revenge of Tony Stark,” Steve added, his own grin dimming a little as a wistful gleam filled his azure eyes. “Wherever he is, he’s gotta be laughing his ass off right now…”

“Language!” (Y/N), Clint and Kate’s exclamation broke the tension and even Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing along with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left, guys! (And don't worry, we'll soon find out who was watching (Y/N) in the last chapter) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Hawkeye (Part IV)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

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