#god I miss Louisiana if only for the storms

[merriblu]

We have thunder!!! I’m so so glad I cut the grass this morning 😂

[nymphbunnyys]

Hello my beautiful slasher mutual, I am back again >:)

I'm in eastern Canada and we just went through Hurricane Fiona, the strongest hurricane we've ever experienced here. A tree fell on my house in the night and I'm on day 2 of an estimated 6-7 day power outage.

If you have time and feel up to it can we get some Vincent and/or Bo (Vincent if you can only do 1) comfort? I imagine the boys have been through some pretty intense summer storms and hurricanes down in Louisiana and some good ol fashion comfort/fluff from them during a hurricane would be mighty fine right about now.

It can be gender neutral so all my hurricane babes can enjoy some comfort in this rough time.

Thank you so much🖤🔪

Dear god please tell me you are okay!! Know you can message me whenever you need to! I literally was about to come back from my break but hurricane Fiona hit Canada and power was out for a good while. Power is obviously back on and I finally have motivation to write again that and I’ve been playing dead by daylight and seeing Michael constantly made me wanna come back. I hope this is alright even if it’s late.. oppsies. But I missed you dearly darling so please enjoy as being one of many people who get their request written first! Also I’m getting a ghostface mask and doing a female ghostface cosplay soon as he’s been my recent obsession. would me posting some pics in cosplay be approved by you darlings?

Hurricanes

Vincent and Bo comforting their g/n s/o during a hurricane

Bo Sinclair

“Oh baby doll there ain’t nothing to be scared of. I’m right here”

due to the hurricane Bo prepared ahead of time. Something very unlike him. He had the bathtub filled in case any water supply’s were damaged, candles were placed and ready to be lit, there are extra batteries on the bed side table, ice water bottles ready to be put in the fridge to keep everything cold until power would be back.

And now. The two of you lay side by side, Bo letting his fingers brush some hair away from your forehead as he watched you wince at the trees wiping their branches against the window. Bo frowned his brows, placing his hand against your cheek and giving you a gentle look. “Darlin’ it’s just some trees, it’ll pass on by in no time try and close those pretty eyes and get some sleep” this was also very unusual for Bo, not that him being like any boyfriend and loving you was rare, he loved you dearly he just.. had a hard time comforting, and a hard time opening up so him being like this was a rare sight. Maybe it was you being so scared of the wind, maybe it made you look small and fragile whatever it was it made him to want to hold you until you fell asleep. He let his hand slide down your arm and slowly let it go limp as his eyes closed. Enjoying the peace and quiet now that you were some what calmed down. It wasn’t until there was a large gust of wind and a branch had smacked the window hard. You jumped up, hands clutching the blanket as you looked to Bo, who was some how still fast asleep. Your hands came to his bare bicep, shaking him slightly as you looked around the pitch black room.

“Bo.. please get up..” it was only until he heard your trembling voice that he managed to flicker his eyes open slightly and pull you in without any words, his hands holding your head against his chest as he fixed his head against his pillow, closing his eyes once again. His fingers danced their way down your back, tracing small circles and letting out soft hums when he moved every once and a while.

“Love.. you”

Vincent Sinclair

It was so quiet you could hear the dripping of the melting wax all around Vincent’s room, if that wasn’t enough to freak you out then the wind definitely was. It whipped around every which way, rain fell heavily and the sound of the power shutting down and the room being lit with wispy flames sent your body to chills. Vincent much like his brother had been fast sleep beside you, his back facing your way. Your eyes squinted back at your book trying to read the now dark words. With a sigh you let your book close and set it beside you on the floor, your hands shakily coming back up to press your legs to your chest. Hurricanes had been a fear of yours ever since you were child, such a deep rooted fear that most times it would leave you in tears. But with embarrassment you’d never told Vincent about it as after all.. it was only wind. The room creaked, groaned as the gusts of wind abused the sidings of the home.

Your eyes peered over the peacefully sleeping Vincent, watching as his shoulders raised up and down slowly, soft snores escaping his slightly parted lips. If it wasn’t for the wind.. you’d let him sleep not wanting to disturb him but anxiety got the better of you as a loud knock on the side of the house caused you to slightly jolt, your finger moved to tap Vincent on the back quickly. When he woke he slowly sat up, blankets draped over his legs as his tired body moved to look at you, slowly coming to the realization of your state. With only one look he had you held into his arms, his head rest against the wall the bed was placed against, his hands squeezed you close before pulling the blankets over your shoulders and letting you rest against him.

“I’m sorry.. it’s such a stupid reason I shouldn’t even have woken y-“

Vincent only shook his head and placed a long finger against your lips, using his other hand to pat your back soothingly. With a kiss to your head and a soft sigh he nuzzled his back into his pillows and made himself stay awake until you fell asleep first.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

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

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why…Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[seaofghouls]

Resident Evil Village WKM AU

PART 1

Taglist: Nobody. Comment to be tagged!

Warnings: Bullets, Guns, Monsters, Tranquilizers, Blood, Gore, Descriptions of serious injuries, ect.

The stuff you'd see in Resident Evil. ------

“Long ago, a young girl went to pick berries for her father who was hard at work. The forest greeted them with a dark, cold silence. The bushes empty. Yet, determined to find the berries, the little rascal broke free of mother’s grasp and vanished into the trees. Mother’s worried cries faded fast as the girl ran on, over vine and under branch and into the forest deep.

Feeling strange eyes upon her, the girl recalled mother’s scary tales and her throat became bone dry. Then the bat lord appeared. He greeted her warmly and bit his own wing. “Come child, quench your thirst.” He said. So she drank the thick dark blood and smiled with joy. Passing through the graveyard, menacing storm clouds loomed and the air turned bitingly cold. The girl was shivering in her thin clothes.

Then, a Dark Weaver appeared and with a click of his fingers, crafted mist into a beautiful dress. “Come child, warm yourself.” He coaxed. So she clothed herself and smiled with joy. Across waters deep and ominous she went, hoping a boat she found would take her home. But hunger’s grip tightened and her hunger grew heavy.

Then, the fish king appeared and offered one of his many fins. “Come child, eat your fill.” So the girl ate and smiled with joy once again. Continuing on, she soon entered the forest’s dark heart. Then an Iron Steed appeared, bearing a beautiful, golden gear. The creature said nothing as the girl approached.. And snatched what she thought was another gift.

The horse grew angry and summoned the other monsters. Terror filled the girl’s heart as a wild wind rose around the beasts. Suddenly, a witch appeared! Dark, yet regal. “Gift we gave, but more you took.” She snarled. In a blink, the girl was trapped in a mirror, forever.” “There, she’s asleep.” He finished, holding a baby.

“What is with the creepy story? She’s only six months old. Especially the part about being trapped in a mirror.” Y/N asked with a huff.

“The woman at the store said it was traditional. A local tale. Besides, Rose doesn’t seem to mind.” Damien gestured at the sleeping baby in his arms.

“Because she doesn’t understand it, thank god.” Y/N sighed.

“We moved here so she wouldn’t have to deal with that, remember?” Y/N frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory.” Damien slightly snapped.

“Maybe I’m being paranoid. I’m just cautious, y’know?” Y/N said.

“Then, go cautiously take your daughter to bed.” Damien smiled, handing them the baby.

“I’ll finish dinner.” Damien gave Y/N and Rose both a kiss on the head.

“It’s alright, Rose. Your father doesn’t want to remember. I can’t blame him.” Y/N mumbled.

“Did you say something, dear?” Damien called out.

“Nope! I’ll put her to sleep.” Y/N called back.

Y/N carried Rose up the stairs and into her room.

Setting her into the crib, Y/N smiled. “Don’t worry Rose, I’ll be right downstairs. I won’t let those scary fairytale monsters get you.”

Y/N gave her a kiss and walked back down the stairs.

“Is she doing alright?” Damien asked as Y/N walked back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, she’s sleeping like a- well, a baby.” Y/N giggled.

“Mm, smells good. What is that?” Y/N asked, referring to the meal that Damien was cooking.

“It’s clorba de legume, a local recipe.” Damien said.

“Wow, you’ve gone full native, huh?” Y/N smiled.

“Local wine, too.” Damien smirked.

“If you’re going to be grumpy all evening, maybe you shouldn’t have any~.” Damien teased.

Y/N sighed as Damien poured wine into two glasses.

“You really need to stop worrying.” Damien said.

“It’s just.. Everything happened so fast, y’know? It’s a bit stressful.” Y/N frowned.

“Well, at least we’re all here together.” Damien gave a small smile.

“You, me, Rose, now everything’s going to be-” Y/N interrupted him.

“Seriously? You think we can just forget what happened in Louisiana?” Y/N asked.

“It happened so long ago. I just- I don’t understand why you are so-” Damien was interrupted by a bullet.

In his shoulder.

And then, what seemed to be hundreds more lodged into him.

“Damien!” Y/N cried. The lights were cut out, the blood was everywhere.

There was no coming back from that.

“Damien-! Oh god.” Y/N cried.

Hiding under the table, Y/N was covering their mouth as they looked up to see who did this.

“Abe?! What the hell?” They barked.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Abe shot at Damien’s body more.

“No! What?! Why?!” Y/N sobbed.

“Ghk-!” Y/N gasped out as they were shot with tranquilizer darts.

----

Y/N slowly cracked their eyes open with a groan as they heard a phone going off. They lurched over to unburry it and answered it.

“Is the package secure?” The other end asked.

“What the hell is going on here? Where is Abe and Rose?” Y/N demanded.

“You are not authorized to-” The phone cut out.

“Curses!” They spit.

They began to walk around, turning on their flashlight that they had.

Crows were hung from the trees and the van had crashed.

They found a house and decided to explore it. Nothing of use on the main floor.

Or in the house for that matter. Just blood stains and a trashed home.

“..What did all of this?” Y/N sighed.

By the time they got out, it was morning. They’d never been so happy to see daylight. God, that house was creepy.

“Where the hell am I?” Y/N questioned, looking at the giant castle ahead.

Walking into the town below, it was abandoned. It was utterly trashed and empty. They ran into a man hiding inside a house. He shoved a gun into their hands.

“It’s all I can spare.” He said.

“What the hell’s out there?!” Y/N pleaded, but got no answer before whatever was outside grabbed the man through the roof. They fell through the floorboards into a bit of bodies.

“Aghk-!” They cried.

“Oh god.” They cried.

Bodies littered the floor.

“..Jesus Christ.” They muttered.

“Agh-!” They howled in pain as a beast attacked them, tearing off three of their fingers.

They were thrown out of the basement into the open world, their hand bleeding out, missing fingers.

“What the hell was that?!” They cried.

“N-no! Stay back!” Y/N pulled out the gun the old man had given them and started shooting at the beast. It fell over and bled out after a few shots.

They realized they were trapped. They decided to look around the village for any keys to open the locked gates or ways out. They were able to cut the lock open on the gate blocking them with lock cutters and other various items they found around the village of death.

They heard a radio announcement about traveling to Luiza’s house for safety, so they decided to do that while picking up useful items that they ran into.

The beasts were everywhere. They were able to wrap their bleeding hand in bandages they found. They had quite a few close calls including the beasts.

They got cornered and tumbled into a lake while bleeding out surrounded by monsters before they all stopped all of a sudden and ran off when an old woman seemingly saved them.

“W-wait!” They tried to chase after the lady.

She went off on a tangent with a creepy smile. “The bell tolls for us all! They’re coming again!” She closed the gate.

“Damn it.” Y/N cussed.

The only part that Y/N was paying attention to was the fact that their daughter was in the village.

“I’ve got to find her.” Y/N said.

They continued to travel through the village, shooting at monsters. Damien’s death was still heavy on their mind.

They found a daughter and father in a shed. They found a way to get them inside and close the gate. Luiza greeted the three at the front door, albeit with a man pointing a gun at them before Luiza shooed him off.

“You’re not from this village, are you?” Luiza questioned.

“Uhm, no. I’m Y/N.” They said.

“If Elena trusts you, then so do I. Come inside, Y/N.” Luiza said.

Luiza led them to the main part of the house where the others were hiding.

They certainly did not get a warm welcome.

“There is no safe! Every sorry person out there has been ripped in half!” A man cried, his alcohol swishing from side to side from inside the bottle.

“That’s enough.” Luiza declared.

“Let us pray for those still out there.” She said.

They all joined in a circle, praying to whatever god there was out there.

Y/N started to get a bit freaked out when the old man they had helped inside started laughing and screaming in agony. The house was lit on fire after he knocked over a lit lantern.

People started to crowd the old man asking if he was okay or what was going on.

Y/N gasped as they realized. He was no longer human. He was one of the monsters.

“Oh no.”

He slaughtered almost everyone in the main room as Y/N took Elena’s hand and ran into the hall away from the fire and the beast.

“Elana, we have to go!” They yelled.

“Let them go!” Elana cried, shooting her dad in the head as he was on top of Y/N.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry father.” Elena whispered after she shot him a second time.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. That thing wasn’t your father anymore. You did the right thing.” Y/N comforted Elena.

The beast groaned and garbled as floorboards fell on top of it causing more fire to spread. Y/N slammed the door he was in and comforted Elena as she cried.

“We’ve gotta get out of here. He was already gone.” Y/N patted her shoulder.

After looking for a while, Y/N found the truck keys.

“Damn, the fire’s moving fast. Elena, get in the truck with me.” They said.

They crashed through the wall using the truck.

The fire surrounded them, Y/N bit their lip.

Looking up, they narrowed their eyes. “Nowhere to go but up.”

They helped Elena climb up with them.

“..Elena..” A garbled voice called out.

“Father?!” Elena ran towards him. Y/N tried to stop her but failed.

“Elena, wait! That’s not him!” Y/N cried.

The floorboards were cracking.

Elena ignored them.

“Elena, take my hand!” They ordered, holding out their hand to grab.

“Y/N, go! Save your daughter!” Elena cried.

“Elena, please! Don’t give up! Reach for me!” Y/N said.

Elena fell through the floorboards into the fiery abyss below.

“Damn it!” Y/N cussed.

“Why is everyone dying on me?!” Y/N cried through gritted teeth as they climbed out of the burning house.

Y/N saw the old lady again so they ran up to her.

“Death. Death has visited them all!” She cackled.

Y/N disregarded that. They accidentally walked into the gate of the castle. Digging into their bag, they realized that they had the two keys to open the door. Artifacts, the keys were.

They were about to pull the lever to the elevator when a voice stopped them after they had walked into the castle.

“Well, well. Didn’t think anyone was left! You must be pretty tough, huh?” He had a huge hammer, Y/N observed.

“Who the hell are you?” Y/N asked.

“Oh! You’re not local! Even better.” The man smirked.

“Aghk-!” Y/N groaned as a spear was jabbed into them from out of thin air.

“Mother Celine’s going to love you.” He laughed some more as more and more metals were attached to Y/N until they passed out.

…

They came back to consciousness as they were being dragged and in chains.

“Quit your whining! We’re almost there!” The man assured.

They closed their eyes again, opening them, hearing voices.

“The person is of no real use to anybody else.. And my children do so love entertaining foreigners. Furthermore, I can assure you if you entrust the mortal to enter house Iplier, my children and I shall deliver the finest of blood to you, the finest cups of his slaughtered blood.”

“Out of my way, ugly! I wanna see!”

Y/N was certain there was some deep sobbing mixed in there as well.

“Oh~! They’re awake!”

More deep sobbing.

“Both of you shut the hell up!”

“..What..? Where..?” Y/N started.

“You mean you’ll screw around with him in private? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Give him to me and I’ll put on a show that everyone can enjoy.”

“Oh, so gauche. What do we care for bread and circuses? The person’s suffering is assured, regardless.”

“Yack, yack, the person’s privates are cut off in the castle, blah blah blah!”

“I’ve heard all of your arguments. Some less persuasive than others, but.. I’ve made my decision.”

“Benjamin. The person’s fate lies in your hands.”

“Mother Celine, I must protest! Benjamin is but a child and his devotion to you is questionable. Give the mortal to me and I will ensure they are ready.”

“Shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.” Benjamin growled.

“Quiet now, child! Adults are talking!”

I’m the child? You’re the one arguing with Mother Celine’s decision!” Benjamin defended.

“You wouldn’t know responsibility if it was welded to that hammer!”

“Oh, keep growing, one day your head might actually fit your ego!” Benjamin yelled.

“..Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” Y/N groaned.

“Fight fight fight fight!”

“SILENCE!” Mother Celine cried.

“My decision is final. There will be no argument. Remember where you came from.” Mother Celine said.

“Thank you.” Benjamin said.

“Lycans and gentleman! We thank you for waiting! Now, let the games begin!” Benjamin announced.

He bent down to Y/N’s level.

“Let’s see what you’re really made of, Y/N Winters.” He smirked.

He slammed his hammer down in front of Y/N and started counting down.

Y/N got up and ran as fast as they could, still handcuffed. Down the yellow tinted corridor echoing the screams of the monsters. They saw a hole in the ground. Looking around, it was the only option. So, they did the only thing they could. They took the leap.

They ran and ran from the monsters when they landed.

“Agh! Jesus Christ!” They cried.

“That’s right! Run for your life!” Benjamin cackled.

----

[madreckdoesrandomstuff]

Me describing US states while knowing close to nothing about most of them.

Alabama: You know what they're doing.

Alaska: COLD AS HELL!

Arizona: Let's cook eggs on the sidewalks.

Arkansas: Does this place get dust storms often?

California: Great sceneries, awful ppl & economy.

Colorado: Gotta love me some South Park.

Connecticut: Rocky shorelines, maybe.

Delaware: Some ppl don't know this is a state.

Florida: CHAOS!

Georgia: SO FUCKING GREEN!

Hawaii: A ruined paradise.

Idaho: POTATOES!

Illinois: Keep forgetting that Detroit isn't here.

Indiana: Reminds me of Indiana Jones.

Iowa: Does this place have a lot of rocks?

Kansas: What goes on here again?

Kentucky: Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Louisiana: Only known cuz of New Orleans.

Maine: Anybody want some lobster?

Maryland: Isn't this right by Delaware?

Massachusetts: Let's waste some fucking tea shall we?

Michigan: Detroit Become Human

Minnesota: Place probably gets a lot of snow during the winter.

Mississippi: Miss is sip pee

Missouri: Swamps.

Montana: Hannah Montana (I'm sorry 😭)

Nebraska: Or is this where all the tornadoes are at?

Nevada: Gambling capital of the US

New Hampshire: Fancy name, but probably doesn't live up to it.

New Jersey: Wouldn't be caught dead in it

New Mexico: Probably boiling hot over there.

New York: "Fuck you, fuck me, & fuck God."

North Carolina: Cotton?

North Dakota: Mount Rushmore.

Ohio: Oh— Hi!

Oklahoma: Someone's probably licked the dirt here.

Oregon: Will always think of Gravity Falls.

Pennsylvania: Philadelphia.

Rhode Island: Incredibly smol & not an island.

South Carolina: Alright, who hasn't thought about coming here to lick a tree?

South Dakota: South of North Dakota.

Tennessee: Mountain Dew was invented here.

Texas: Yee haw buckaroo!

Utah: Ppl here probably like sweetened iced tea, a lot.

Vermont: I forgot this state existed.

Virginia: Washington DC isn't here or in Maryland.

Washington: Has that 1 large building Seattle.

West Virginia: Many mosquitoes?

Wisconsin: Either has no tarantulas or is swarming with them.

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 6

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~2,900

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

True to his word, Carrillo had called her the next day, asked how she was doing.  Eva was barely coherent, but she’d told him that she was okay and he’d let her get back to sleep.  To her surprise, he’d called again on Sunday evening, asking if she felt better and if she had eaten.  She had, but only a little.

Why don’t you take a hot bath, he’d prompted gently. You’ll feel better.

She did. And, she had felt better.  By Monday morning, she was able to pull herself out of bed and head into the office.  Although still sleepy, she felt more rested than she had in possibly years.  Thinking back, Eva could not remember the last time a nesting period had been so fulfilling, or helpful.  Though she was on the upswing, Eva had left the pillows and blankets in place. She could snuggle in them a little longer that night, before the need left her completely.

As her desk, she gathered a new stack of files, flipping through the one on top. It was the death of the informant she’d taken a look at. Eva paused, wondering if she should even read the file. She decided it would look worse if she didn’t. With a sigh, she began reading the first page. And then, the next page. And then she was moving back and forth between reports.

There was a page missing. She thumbed through it, looking to see if it had been collated incorrectly.  It hadn’t. Javier had told her about a tattoo on the victim—it wasn’t included on the pages in front of her. Humming, she stood and went to the records room to see if it had slipped out in transit. It was there that Steve found her.

“Good, you’re here.”

Eva lifted her brows in question, refiling the folder in her hand.

“Javier asked me to find you and send you to help him at the church.”

She laughed, “I’m not religious.”

He put his hands on his hips, “Good, you’ll be objective.”

“Objective about what?”

“The case,” he answered, “Now, come on.  I’ll take you there.”

Before she could argue, he was guiding her out of the building to the parking lot and they were on their way. It took until she was walking up the steps for her to pause and actually think about what she was doing.

“I can’t,” she nearly yelled, both hands coming up in front of her.

Steve rolled his eyes, “You can, let’s go. Javi’s waiting.”

“No,” Eva countered, lowering her voice, “I can’t do field work. I’m not allowed.”

He sucked a breath through his teeth in frustration, “You’re not.  You’re going to mass. Now, in.”

Dragging her feet, Eva followed him in, folding her hands in front of her. It was a really nice church. Lots of stained glass, lots of wood. A confessional off to one side. Big cross with a Jesus on it. She walked up the aisle for what would be the second time in her life. Eva felt out of place the first time, too.

God, she’d been fourteen and so stupid, so trusting of her parents and of—of Joshua. He was smart and handsome and a fucking doctor. So stupid. So trusting. Eva could still remember that she was excited to be a wife, that she had thanked God for making happen so fast for her. She’d prayed that she would be a good partner for him, that she would learn fast. Eva had stopped believing in God the day after she got married.

Javi was standing with a priest at the back—or was it the front—of the church. They were talking animatedly, smiles all around. Eva followed Steve, waiting to be introduced.

“Eva, this is Father Martin.”

She gave a little half wave, “Hello.”

“He’s got a youth baseball league running this summer, they just got new uniforms.”

“That’s great,” she said, wondering where this was going.

“They even bought all the players new cleats.  Isn’t that great?”

His expression told her that what he was saying was meaningful, and Eva was a little embarrassed that it took her a few moments to catch on. She cleared her throat and smiled congenially at the group.

“Um, could I use your restroom?”

Father Martin gestured to a hall tucked behind the confessional, “Yes, of course.”

Eva thanked him and tried not to walk too fast. She located the bathroom pretty quickly and ran the faucet while she peeked further down the hall.  Couple of rooms, nothing out of the ordinary.  Still, she could get a little lost. Turning off the faucet, she slipped out of the bathroom and made her way to the first room—broom closet.  Crossing the hall, she opened the next door.  This was where they taught whatever the Catholic equivalent was of Sunday School.

Eva had grown up like any other good Louisiana girl, a Southern Baptist. Where they gathered, there was food and Southern judgment. Her marriage had broken her of most of the things she’d once believed, but it hadn’t broken her of the good memories she had.  

Reverently, she traced one of the little desks, smiling at the hand made art on the walls, little names scrawled in shaky writing.  At the front was a chalk board, a bible verse carefully written in one corner, a psalm. Eva leaned on the desk and stared at it a moment, thinking that she probably could have done with a little more memorization at vacation Bible school.

Next to the chalkboard, Eva noticed that the wall was cracked.  Odd. The rest of the church was in immaculate condition.  Rising, she went over and touched the cracked, gasping when it cracked more. Spinning around, she looked towards the door, as if God would stroll in and strike her down for damaging His house.

Using both hands, she tried to set it straight, which only made things worse.  It cracked all the way up to nearly the ceiling.  With a deep sigh, she looked at it, using a nail to scratch along the edge. It lifted away easily, and she discovered the it was...on a hinge.

“What the fu—hell. Hell? Is hell better?”

Knowing she was already in it, Eva opened the makeshift door and found the back of the confessional.  Brows together, she leaned in. It looked pretty normal, not that she’d ever been inside one. Well, there was a first time for everything. Primly, she turned and sat on the cushion, wiggling a bit. It wiggled with her.

Standing, Eva reached beneath the seat and lifted it.  She smiled, set the cushion down and closed the door. Quickly, she scuttled out into the hall and back into the sanctuary.

The boys were still talking with the priest, thought Steve was taking the occasional photo. She gave Javier a wink, thanked the priest for the use of his facilities, and headed back outside.  Javier followed her.

“What’d you find?”

“You know, I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m supposed to be at a desk.”

“I know-”

“Then, you also know that by asking me to crime scenes you are risking my freedom.”

He looked at her for a bit, chewing on his lip, “Listen, you’re good at this. I know that, and you’re only here to visit a potential church, recommended by me.”

“You can’t just make up stories to suit your needs.”

“Why not?” he shot back, “DEA does it all the time.”

Eva looked away, “I can’t go back to prison, Javi.”

He took her by the shoulders, “You won’t. Steve and me, we’ll make sure of it.”

She nodded, crossing her arms.

“Now, what’d you find?”

“The church,” she answered, “Is hiding drugs under the seat of the confessional, probably in other places, too.”

He snapped his tongue over the back of his teeth, “You saw it.”

“I saw it.”

Dropping his hands, Javier pursed his lips, “I’m gonna call Carrillo. You sit tight out here in case it gets ugly.”

Eva shrugged, “You get the bad guys, I’m gonna go get a popscicle.”

And that’s what she did. Eva crossed the street to a tiny one stop shop and bought a cherry popscicle.  Then, she found a bench where she had a good view of the front of the church and sat. As she pulled the paper apart, a couple Jeeps drove up to the church stairs and about ten or so policemen hauled ass inside, each of them wearing kevlar. Javier must have had them on stand by.  Clearly, he thought he was working off good information. Perhaps, he’d snagged a nun as informant.

Separating the two pieces, Eva took the top off one and held it in her mouth, letting the sugary syrup melt over her tongue. She hadn’t had one of these in a long time, couldn’t remember the last one. Carefully, she tipped it over, slurping up one side.

Even from across the street, she could hear raised voices. They’d told the priest what she’d found, no doubt.

Eva sat there watching the police bring out load after load of cocaine, an astonishing amount, really. When she’d finished the popscicle, she got up and threw the wrapper and wooden sticks in the trash. On her way back, she saw Carrillo crossing the street towards her. Like his men, he was also kitted up. Eva was surprised that they’d found a bulletproof vest that could fit his broad shoulders. In any case, it was good look for him.

She sat, leaving enough room for him, a wordless invitation that he took.

“Having fun storming the castle?”

He huffed a short laugh, “I don’t know that ‘fun’ is how I would describe it.”

Eva hummed, knowing what he meant, then, “Guess its better than sitting at a desk.”

“On that, we agree. Javi tells me that you were the one who found the drugs.”

She shrugged, “Stumbled upon them, really.”

Carrillo looked at her, sidelong, “You have good eyes for this. I should put you on my payroll.”

Pleased by the complement, she allowed herself to feel a little bit of pride despite the fact that she really had simply stumbled upon the drugs.

Leaning back, Eva let her voice come out in a slow drawl, “I don’t know that you want to do that.”

He assessed her expression, asking, “Why?”

“Because,” she explained, matter of fact, “I don’t kiss the men who sign my paychecks.”

One side of his mouth lifted, a kind of playful light in his eyes, “I can get someone else to sign the paycheck.”

Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, Eva looked away, saw that the priest was being cuffed in the doorway.

“What will happen to him?”

Carrillo’s face hardened a bit, “We’ll book him and he will make bail.  He’ll be back before Sunday services.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Is that how it worked in this country? She supposed that was how it worked everywhere—plenty of Josh’s boys got off without charges, plenty made bail, plenty went right back to what they were doing.

“What a load of bullshit.”

Carrillo laughed outright, “That is how it is.”

She opened her mouth and closed it, looking at her hands.

He lifted one hand and tapped the outside of her thigh once, “Inside thought?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Tell me—is it insulting?” He looked intrigued.

She shook her head, “More sad, I think.”

“Tell me.”

Sighing deeply, she simply said, “I was just thinking that whoever leaked the information to Javier is going to be crucified.  I was also thinking that saying this out loud would be in poor taste.”

Carrillo made a sound of agreement, and then there was a few minutes where they both watched the priest being walked from the church to one of the Jeeps.

“How are you feeling?”

Eva was a little startled by the question, but she recovered quickly, “I’m better. Thank you for your help last week. It...made a difference.”

He acknowledged her thanks with a bob if his head, “You are welcome, and I am glad. When was the last time you nested?”

Her shock must have shown on her face because he went on, “When we met, the first thing I noticed was that you looked like you needed to take some time to nest.”

“The first thing?” Her? Sarcastic? No...

He gave a little shrug, abashed, “Okay, the second thing.”

God, but she wanted to needle him just a little bit, to volley back the unbalanced feeling he so often stirred in her. It took half a second to agree with herself that she should—just a little.

Eva turned, resting her elbow on the back of the bench and laying her head on her hand, “What was the first?”

She could tell he was regretting saying it, but Eva was curious, and she had a hard time not being curious about things. She did, however, keep the satisfied look off her face when his cheeks tinged with pink.

“Tell me,” she urged, echoing his tone from not a few minutes before.

Carrillo’s shoulders pulled down and she got the feeling that he was trying to make himself less threatening, an unconscious movement that told her he’d always been a little too large among his peers. She could see in that small movement that he’d learned early on that he was intimidating.  She could also see that he probably knew when to use that to his advantage and when to pull back.

“You know the answer to that question, Eva,” he said eventually.

She held up a finger, “I might know.”

After a deep inhale followed by a controlled exhale, he said, “I cannot believe I am saying this...Your scent. You know that it was your scent. I couldn’t fucking breathe in that conference room. I thought my blood was going to boil in my veins.”

The words tumbled out quickly, but his tone was so reticent that there were little unusual pauses in his sentences. He definitely did not want to be saying it, but he clearly couldn’t help it, and it looked like that frustrated him. Eva bit her lip, touched by how ridiculously honest he was being with her at that moment. She should reward him for that honesty.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

He looked at her and nodded sharply, just once.

Eva moved a little closer and pitched her voice low, “I knew what you smelled like a month before we were introduced. I even saw you first, like a few weeks before. It was the only way I got through that meeting with any dignity.”

There. She’d given him a fair trade. Eva did not need to add that she’d masturbated to that scent over and over for the month prior (and since). She didn’t think she would ever really have the courage to tell him that much. Just the thought made heat rise in her chest and cheeks.

He shifted to face her, “How?”

She tilted her head to the side in a low arc, “You would come in to talk with one of the agents, we’d just miss each other and I could scent you a few times.”

His eyes narrowed and she could see the wheels turning in his head, “You said you saw me.”

“Yes, I did. Not for long, and from across the room.  But, I knew.”

Strong fingers brushed down the forearm holding her head aloft, “How did you stand it? After—I think I lasted less than twenty four hours before I was coming up with ways to see you again.”

Eva smiled, “I was just happy that I could feel that intensely. I think I wanted to savor it.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes running over her face and downwards, catching on the way her skirt had hitched up a bit, “You never…”

She shook her head, “Josh was a beta. After we got married, I was on a tight leash. And after, there wasn’t much opportunity.”

There went that jagged fury that billowed through his scent when she mentioned her marriage. She made a mental note to steer away from the subject, if she could. His mouth opened and closed, and her mouth widened in a smile.

“You just had an inside thought.”

He laughed, “I did.”

“Well, out with it.”

Carrillo, still smiling, said, “I think I’ve revealed enough for one day.”

Eva looked down, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He touched underneath her chin, “Don’t apologize for wanting to know my thoughts, hmm? I want to know yours constantly.”

“I pretty much say whatever I’m thinking, Big Guy.”

His name sounded from across the street and he straightened, listening.

“I need to go,” he said after a moment. “We’ll talk later.”

Eva watched him go, a warm feeling coming over her.  She liked him a little too much, she knew that. She also knew that she was going to do absolutely nothing about it.  

[favefandomimagines]

Secrets Out (t.h.)

Summary: you and Tom have been dating since Civil War and people have been shipping him and zendaya nonstop (even worse than before) it’s put you in a bad place with Tom, so much so, you didn’t tell him you were going to be in a huge movie until Jimmy Kimmel announces it.

It was no secret that you were not a fan of the constant shipping between your boyfriend, Tom Holland, and Zendaya. You knew it was all in good fun but when you see a news video on YouTube about them secretly dating, it gets on your nerves.

Tom has been preoccupied lately with press for Far From Home and you were so proud of him, but that included him being with Zendaya more than you. Hell, you were in the movie too and you don’t spend nearly as much time together as those two do.

Which is why you forgot to tell Tom about landing a role in the movie revival of Bonnie and Clyde. And you were very excited and grateful because you were cast as the lead role and that doesn’t happen everyday. You were going to tell him but he was only home for about five minutes and you were in the shower.

Jimmy Kimmel would be the first time you’ve been together longer than five minutes, in the past week. Were you going to be petty? Yes. You were jealous and felt under appreciated and unloved so of course you were going to be petty.

“So, Y/N, it’s obvious you are an incredible actress,” Jimmy started, switching the conversation to you. “Thank you, Jimmy.” You said with a gracious smile. “And that leads me to the announcement that you’re going to be in the newest interpretation of Bonnie Clyde.” He said.

The audience cheered and Jake, Jacob, Cobie and Zendaya gave you words of praise and were very happy for you. Tom on the other hand was completely blindsided by the news. ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ He thought.

“Yes I am! I’m playing Bonnie and my friend Cody Christian is going to be Clyde and Martin Scorsese is directing and I am so so excited. Especially to be somewhat new in this industry, to work with a director as amazing as Martin Scorsese is a huge dream. I’ve been asking Zendaya to pinch me for the past week because it doesn’t seem real.” You explained.

Zendaya smiled at you as she gave you a small hug.

“And you and Cody are going to have to play a couple with tons of chemistry so it helps that you’re friends.” Jimmy added. “It does help, yeah. Especially since we’ve worked together on All American.” You said. “With the director and the writers, it’s quite possible this could do well during awards season.” Jimmy pointed out. “That’s what we’re hoping. And we just want to put a new, modern spin on such an infamous true story.” You replied.

“If anyone is going to win an Oscar, it’s Y/N.” Zendaya interjected. She was genuinely happy for you and you two were always close friends. She knew you were hurting over all of this Tomdaya stuff so she was trying to make you feel better.

You smiled back at her, happy someone you loved was acknowledging what you did.

“Well, congratulations and I can’t wait to see it when it comes out.” Jimmy told you.

The show was over and you were on your way back to your house. Though Tom wasn’t with you because he decided to go out with Zendaya and Jacob.

Your blood was boiling that you just landed a huge role in a movie that could potentially be nominated for an Oscar and he couldn’t care less.

Arriving home, Tessa greeted you and followed you to your shared room with Tom. You quickly changed your clothes but you were still livid with your boyfriend for giving you the impression that he didn’t care about you or your accomplishments.

You had this huge problem of rage crying when you got too worked up. And that’s exactly what happened once you sat down on the edge of your bed.

As you were violently sobbing in your bedroom, you heard the doorbell ring. You wiped your eyes and made your way back downstairs, Tessa still in tow.

You opened the door and Zendaya stood on your front porch with pillows, blankets, movies and ice cream in hand.

“I thought you were going out?” You asked. “You could use some girl time. Plus, Tom is pissing me off with how he’s been treating you.” She answered. You smiled sadly at her as you let her inside.

After a couple hours, inevitably watching every Nicholas Sparks movie, you spoke up.

“You know I love you, Z, but this whole Tomdaya thing really sucks.” You said. “I know. And I’m so sorry that he’s been unintentionally neglecting you. I’ve tried to shut down the rumors but his fans can be very persistent.” Zendaya explained. “Yeah, trust me I know. Ever since Civil War they’ve either loved me or hated me.” You said.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Tom had gotten home five minutes prior. You looked up at the TV and examined the scene from A Walk to Remember.

“At this rate, I’d have to win the Oscar in order for him to want to spend time with me.” You commented. “I think we need to go on a girls trip. Maybe New York, see a broadway show or we go to Miami and just enjoy the beach.” Zendaya suggested.

You laughed at her suggestion and were honestly happy that she wanted to get your mind off of it.

But Tom felt guilty. He didn’t mean to neglect you and make it seem like he didn’t care. He loved you more than anyone and he didn’t know you felt this way. Probably because he was always so busy you didn’t get the chance to tell him.

“God, this feeling sucks.” You said with a sad laugh. Zendaya gave you a reassuring smile before you heard someone clear their throat.

Your head snapped in that direction and saw you Tom standing in the entryway. “Uh, I’m gonna go. But call me if you need anything.” Zendaya told you.

“Thank you.” You told her quietly before walked towards the door. “Fix this, Tom. That girl loves you and if you lose her, you’ll regret it.” She whispered to him before leaving.

Tom looked back at you and saw that you weren’t facing him anymore but scrolling on your phone.

“Y/N,” He started. “‘Zendaya secretly dating co-star, Tom Holland?’ ‘Tomdaya taking the world by storm.’ Oh and here’s my favorite headline, ‘why Tom Holland should be with Zendaya instead of Y/F/N Y/L/N.’” You said.

Tom closed his eyes tightly before walking over to where you sat. “They’re just stupid headlines.” He told you. “To you, they’re stupid headlines. To you, it’s just hanging out with your costar all the time. To me, Tom, it’s not having my boyfriend around when I get a role in a huge movie. Or it’s when he forgets my birthday.” You snapped.

“Your birthday is-“ He started before he realized he had missed it. “Two days ago. When you were at Disneyland.” You said.

“I am so sorry, love. I’ve been so busy with all the movies and I know it’s not an excuse but,” Tom pauses as he looks at your expression.

You were hurting when you should be celebrating your accomplishment.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much and I’m so terribly sorry that I’ve been neglecting you so much. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend but I hope you can forgive me.” He added, teaching to grab your hand.

“Of course I forgive you, Tom. I’m not going to throw a four year relationship down the drain because you’re bad at multitasking.” You joked.

Tom laughed at you before leaning forward to kiss you softly.

“So tell me about this movie.” He said. You smiled as you moved the carton of ice cream from your lap. “Well, it starts filming in Texas in a couple months. And then we’ll move to Western Nebraska and then Louisiana to finish it up.” You explained. “And are you excited?” He asked.

“I’m so excited. This is my first big movie that could win an Oscar.” You answered. “I am so proud of you, love. I really am.” Tom told you. “And I’ll have to come visit you on set.” He added. “Oh but of course.” You teased.

Tom was about to lean in again when your phone buzzed. You picked it up and saw that you were tagged in yet another post about Tomdaya.

“What is it?” Tom asked. “An instagram post about you and Z. ‘Tom and Z were so cute on Jimmy Kimmel! I didn’t even notice that Y/N was there too.’ Wow that hurts.” You read aloud. “Okay, this needs to stop.” Tom announced as he grabbed his phone.

“What are you doing?” You questioned. “Making sure that everyone knows that you are my girlfriend and it will stay that way.” He answered.

You waited in silence for a bit until you were tagged in another post, posted by Tom.

@tomholland2013: I want to give a well deserved shout out to my lovely girlfriend Y/N. If you haven’t already heard, she’s going to be in a new Martin Scorsese film and I am beyond proud of her. She deserves this more than anyone and I love her 3000 😉😉 @y/f/n_

You read the caption and smiled up at him. “I love you too.” You said. “Well, I’d hope so.” He joked. You leaned in and pressed a loving kiss to his lips before Tessa jumped up in between you two.

You both laughed but let her do it anyways. “Now I got both my girls.” Tom commented. You smiled lovingly at him before you cuddled into his side.

[superbadassnatural]

Evil Amongst Us

Summary: Since Dean got the Mark of Cain, he’d been constantly on edge. It was impossible to keep his new behavior from permanently damaging your relationship. Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x Reader Word count: ~2.9k (wow, didn’t think it would be this long) Warnings: angst, blood, violence, angry Dean in a not-so-sexy way, character death A/N: This was written for @katymacsupernatural​ “Katy’s 6K Golden Challenge”. My prompt is the following aesthetic created by her. I kinda liked writing this. A bit different from what I wrote before. I hope you like as much as I did.

(x) (x)

Dean rolled over to your side, laying on his back. His body sinking down into the mattress, a heavy sigh leaving his plump lips. His bare chest rising and falling as he tried to even his breath.

“Well,” a chuckle left his lips. “That was- wow- that was amazing.” he glanced at the ceiling.

“Yeah, it was is,” you rolled onto your side, propping on your elbow. “It always is though.”

Your eyes scanned his figure. Your finger tracing different patterns along his chest. How come your relationship with Dean have come to this? Years of loving and caring for each other had turned into a relation based mostly on sex and stupid arguments over simple daily decisions.

Ever since Dean’s got the Mark of Cain, he’d become more aggressive. He had constantly been on edge. Any little thing that doesn’t go as he planned is a reason for him to lose his temper. You know he tries to keep it down. He tries effortlessly to hide his anger even more when he’s around you.

After quite some time since he got stuck with the Mark, you noticed he started to change around you. It had become harder and harder to find the Dean you love with all your heart in his green eyes or in the curve of his lips. It felt like he was slowly going away. You miss spending sunday nights watching some of your favorite movies and then cuddling until you fell asleep. You miss the hold of his hands, the constant praises that would just escape his lips, the look in his eyes when he woke up in the morning. And mostly you missed making love with him. When it comes to get in bed with Dean it’s just sex. It’s just away to seek some relief, to get off. He always gives you pleasure, but he’s not just as caring as he was before. There are no more praises, only some animal grunts. Therefore only few I love you’s are exchanged every now and then.

“What?” he ask. His eyes were still glued on the ceiling, but he could see you frown at his question. “What’s going on in this head of yours? You seem to be far away.”

“Just doing some thinking.” you laid your head on his chest. It had been a while since you did that. Lately, after sex he’d get up and go shower or grab something to eat. Sometimes he’d just sleep or take a nap. It was just like you weren’t there.

“About?”

“Us,” you sighed. As your voice echoed through his ears, his gaze fell on you. “About how much we’ve changed and how much I wish things got back to the way they were,”

“I know,” he whispered. You flinched at the touch of his hand on your back. The soft pad of his fingers tracing up and down your spine. “It might seem like I don’t, but I really wish I didn’t have this damn mark on my arm,” he almost exclaimed. “I wish I could be me again and not some shell of a man.”

“Things will get better,” you placed a kiss on his chest. Your lips lingering a little longer on his skin. “I promise.”

____________________________

“I can’t believe in what just happened,” you stormed into the bunker, following Dean down the stairs as you shut the door with a thud. “I mean, I could expect anything tonight, but this? Uh uh, never.”

Dean headed to the kitchen and grabbed a beer for him. He didn’t even bother to look you in the eyes.

While Sam was away in a hunt back in Ohio, you and Dean did some research and found some pretty interesting stuff. One of them was a vampire nest down Louisiana. It had been easier than you’d anticipated. Only four vamps. You and Dean handled it pretty good and fast. Before you could notice you were back in Kansas. You had the brilliant idea to go to a bar and have some drinks under the premise of celebrating your successful hunt. The truth is Dean was on edge today and you felt like he really needed to loosen up a little bit.

After a couple of beers Dean started to lighten up. He even made some jokes and let out a full laugh that you wouldn’t mind hearing everyday for the rest of your life. But after some more drinks he started to get a little erratic, like a small fire had started inside him. He was on edge again.

“Can you talk to me? Or at least look at me?” you challenged.

Dean turned to you with a roll of his eyes.

“What do you want me to say? That you are overreacting?” he snarled, pointing a finger at you. “Because you are,” he took a few steps towards you as his voice lowered. “You always do.”

“The hell I’m overreacting,” you exclaimed. You could feel your blood boiling at his nonchalant. “Yeah, because I should be thanking you for deciding to leave alone at the table we were, after spending a good time enjoying each other’s company, and going to the bartender to flirt with her,” you said through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry to remind you but you have a girlfriend. You’ve been dating her for the last three years.”

He didn’t said anything. His squinted green eyes focused on you and every movement of yours. His cheeks were now a bright red. Both from the alcohol and the growing anger. Dean rolled up the sleeves of his flannel, his eyes still on you.

“What am I to you, uh?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest as you waited for him to answer. He only looked down. “Look at me while I’m talking to you. What am I to you, Dean? Am I just a girl that you can get yourself off? Am I just here for your damn pleasure? So you can have your daily fun?” you spat. “Answer me, Dean!”

“I don’t know,” his voice was just above a whisper. You took a full look of him. His jaw was clenched and the tiny bit you could see of the mark was glowing a deep red. You felt a shiver run down your spine. “Look, Y/N, I’ve been through a hell of a time, the last thing I need is you and your existential crisis.” he waved you off as he head towards the war room with his beer on his hand.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me,” you followed him. “I know that you’ve been through a hell of a time but guess what? So have I!” you fumed. “I’m just asking for you to respect me. You don’t wanna be with me anymore? Than fucking say for God’s sake.” you clenched your fists, anger taking the best of you. “I shouldn’t be worrying about my boyfriend - the guy who I’ve been dating for the last three years - flirting with the bartender. I shouldn’t walk out of the bathroom to see some chick dancing with you, wiggling her freaking ass on my boyfriend’s dick. I shouldn’t have to see how hard he was because of other woman was doing to him. Or even worse, I shouldn’t have to drag him out of the bar because he couldn’t be a man and respect the woman he has a relationship with.” your voice rose as you stepped closer. Your chest almost colliding with his. His heavy breath against your cheek.

“You wanna know what you mean to me?” he asked, stepping forward. The sight of the throbbing veins in his neck sent a shiver down your spine. “Nothing. You mean nothing to me anymore. You’re just some weak, pathetic, stupid bitch,” he keeps on walking as he talks, causing you to step back until your back collide with the wall. His body was so close to yours, trapping you in place. “Like you said before, you’re just here for my damn pleasure. You used to mean something to me but now you mean nothing. You suck as a hunter and you definitely suck as a girlfriend.” He slammed his hand on the wall beside your head, making you flinch. You fought with everything you had to not let a single tear fall.

Your hand collided with his face. The loud slap of your hand on his skin echoed through the silent bunker. A small cut was made on the corner of his mouth, causing him to bring his hand to his lips.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that ever again,” you growled. “You can have the bed all to yourself tonight. I’m sleeping in the guest room.” you stated as you walked away from him and headed to the spare bedroom.

____________________________

It had been a couple hours since Dean laid on his bed. He was drunk. Only it wasn’t on all of the drinks he had, but on the silence. The stillness of the room and the tussle of his thoughts were keeping him awake. He was tired. So tired of all of it.

His muscles were tense against the mattress. He felt as if his brain was violently pounding on his head. Stupid, hateful thoughts crossed his mind nonstop.

“She doesn’t deserve you.” it was as low as a whisper.

Dean startled as he heard the voice. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of it. Nothing. It was all coming from his head.

“She never really loved you. She’s gonna leave you as soon as she can.”

“Stop.” Dean growled, his hands coming to his head. Fingers pulling at his dark blonde locks.

“Deep down she’s just as bad as you are,” the voice echoed louder. It was always this voice that made him reckless, that increased his desire to kill. “She’s evil.”

“No,” he exclaimed. Even though he was pissed at you, he couldn’t let the mark take the best of him. “She- she isn’t.”

“Yeah, she is. Look at all the innocent blood she has on her hands,” the mark tried to coax him. “She’s no better than any of those monster you hunt. She’s evil, Dean. And all evil must be annihilated.”

Dean’s hands were trembling. The blood was boiling inside his veins. He was feeling the rush he feels when he’s hunting down a monster.

He walked out of his room with the first blade in his hand. Heavy footsteps making their way to the guest room you were. As Dean opened the door his eyes landed on your sleeping form. Soft sobs left your mouth and your body shook every now and then from how much you’d cried before falling asleep.

“She looks like an angel now, Dean, but she truly is an abomination.”

Although his body was hundreds miles per hour, he was frozen at the door. He barely moved a single muscle. You stirred, blinking owlishly.

“Dean?” your voice was a little hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

“There’s this thing that I need to do and I-“ he started to walk towards your bed. Your eyes took notice of the blade held in his hand.

“Dean, whatever you need to do, I’m sure you can do it without the blade.” you sat, not sure whether you should just wait for his next move or run.

He sat in front of you. His green eyes were dark. They roamed over your entire body. He could sure feel how scared you were. You don’t scare easy, but he can terrify you with just a glance. He licked his lips, his eyes finding yours.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes widened at his words. As he raised his hand to stab you, you kicked him in the stomach with all you had, causing the blade to meet the flesh of your waist. “You bitch.” he exclaimed with his hand pressing his stomach.

The cut wasn’t deep, but it hurts anyway. You quickly stood up and ran away from him as he still recovered from your sudden move. You were bleeding. You pressed the wound to contain the blood. It wasn’t enough but it would do. You entered Sam’s bedroom, locking the door. You scanned the room in search for something you could use to prevent him from entering. You tried to push Sam’s dresser towards the door.

“Cas, please, I know you’re really busy, but I need your help,” you prayed as you did your best to move the dresser. “Dean’s trying to kill me and I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect myself for too long.” you managed to get the dresser in front of wooden door.

You need something you can use to protect yourself. There were no guns in sight, not even under the pillow or the mattress or attached to the bed. Damnit Sam! Once you started to search for in his drawers, you found an angel blade. You only wish you had your phone so you could call Sam. Heavy footsteps could be heard from the hallway.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” his voice echoed in the room, he was just outside the door. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, sweetheart,” he said. Silence fell. “Alright, remember it was your choice.”

His foot collided with the door with an animal strength. He didn’t managed to open it, but he made a hole in it. Once Dean made sure it was big enough so he would be able to get through the door, he pushed the dresser away, entering the room.

Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were ready to use the blade, but you didn’t want to hurt him. He wasn’t himself.

“I have to do this, Y/N, so I can feel good again.” he stepped closer to you, grabbing your arm and bringing you closer to him. You stepped hard on his foot, your elbow colliding with the pit of his stomach, causing him to bend and release you.

You speed to war room. Every step you take causes your injury to hurt and bleed  even more. Like you, Dean was fast. He grabbed your left ankle pulling you closer to him. You struggled to get off of his hold. It was in vain. He pressed the blade up on your calf, twisting it while sinking it deeper in your skin. You screamed. You were more terrified than ever. Blood squirted from the wound once he pulled the knife out. You managed to kick him in the face with your right foot, causing him to stumble. You crawled away from him as fast as you could, trying to make your way to the angel blade a few feet from you.

Dean got a hold of you again, turning you on your back. He pinned you to the floor.

“This could’ve been much easier, Y/N, if only you’d listened to me. Now you wouldn’t be suffering this much.” he praised, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear.

“Why?” you cried.

“Because I have to.”

“Please, Dean, don’t do this,” you sobbed. “I love you and I know how much you love me. You can fight this. You are better than this.”

“No, I’m not,” he grabbed the first blade again. “I need to feel good again. And if I don’t kill I’ll feel bed and I’ll have to take it out on me then.”

“Please, Dean, please,” you begged. His dark eyes were locked in yours. There was no love in them, no mercy.

“Trust me, if there was an option I wouldn’t do anything to you, but see there’s bad in you. And you can’t run away from it because it’s in your blood and bad always win,” he almost whispered. “I’m sorry.” A single tear slipped his eye.

“I love you and I will love you forever, but I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done to us. Never.” you snarled.

Dean pressed the blade on your chest. Quick and fatal. A tear fell from your eyes. Dean stumbled back, sitting beside your dead body. Reality setting on him. The rage slowly fading away.

“What have I done?” he cried.

“Dean,” Castiel’s rough voice echoed through the room. “I heard Y/N’s prayer. Guess I couldn’t make it in time,” he glanced at your lifeless form. Your eyes were open and he could still see the fear in them. There was blood everywhere. Up the walls, Dean’s face, hands and clothes. “Why you did this, Dean? You’ve always loved her so much.”

“The mark,” a lost look in his green eyes as he started. Sobs escaped his lips. “The mark- uh- it said that I should kill her. That she was evil. And I- I- I needed to get that feeling out of my system,” he ran his hands over his hair. “I don’t know what had got into me, man. It was like I wasn’t seeing her. I was seeing a monster. A prey,” he cried, still refusing to believe in what he had done to the love of his life. How could he do that to such an innocent, pure girl?

“Dean, I-“ Cas started.

“The mark said that I needed to kill her, so I did.”

____________________________

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[onhirel]

Flight Class

Part of the Decades Drabbles, set two years after the Battle of Arcturus Forest. Amanda has to deal with an impertinent student... 

Archive of Our Own here

It was a beautiful day at Luna Nova Magical Academy, with only a few clouds dotting the bright blue skies, the sun bringing some welcomed warmth, and a refreshing breeze blew from the northwest. All in all, a perfect day for flying, which wasn’t always a guarantee in Western England, and Professor O’Neill was a stickler for flying through any sort of weather, save for weather that could seriously injure a student, such as a thunderstorm or very thick fog. “Out there in the world, y’all might be flying in all sorts’ve conditions,” the fiery-haired professor had said in that Texas drawl on the first day of classes. “Better to learn how to fly safely now than to be grounded later, or even worse, fly in weather y’all aren’t ready for.”

That seemed to be the American professor’s style…despite her wild appearance with undercut, two-toned red hair and tattoos on her arms that she shamelessly bared to the annoyance of some of the more conservative teachers, she took the safety of her students incredibly seriously, and she watched her flying students like a hawk, her bright green and electric blue eyes missing very little, much to the consternation of-

“Miss Laveau, slow down!” Professor O’Neill’s voice cracked through the air, and Keyatta Laveau, witch descendent from a proud lineage of Cajun witches from Delacroix, Louisiana, immediately slowed down her broom before turning an annoyed grimace back up towards the walkway extending off of the Observatory Tower to see Professor O’Neill scowling down at her.

“What?!” she gave a complaining shout back up to the teacher and the other students. “Come on, I wasn’t even going that fast!”

“I know you know the rules, Laveau, keep it at the proper speed or I’ll ground you!”

Keyatta rolled her eyes before going so much slower than she was capable of going, and just to be a brat, she started doing exaggerated loop-de-loops. To her surprise, Professor O’Neill didn’t yell at her, instead sparing her one last annoyed glare before she returned her attention to the next student to fly off the end of the walkway. Later, during lunch, the African-American student and the Irish-American professor would both gripe to their peers about one another, much to the amusement of those around them. After all, anyone could see that the two of them were very similar in temperament…no wonder they didn’t get along…

For Amanda, it was Professor Finnelan to whom she complained while they ate their lunches in the staff cafeteria. “Like, I just don’t get it, she’s one of the smartest girls in her year and is a model student with the other professors, why can’t she just follow the rules in my class?”

Finnelan literally snorted into her tea at that, turning astounded blue eyes on the younger professor. “Really? You, of all people, are asking that?” she asked, voice incredulous. “As I recall, Katelyn…er, Nelson, that is, she used to say very much the same thing about a hotheaded student from Texas twelve years ago,” she said, her expression only saddening a little at the mention of her friend. But then she gave a slight, teasing grin. “Well, perhaps not the smartest girl in her year, mind…” she said leadingly, and Amanda rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand before she sighed, crossing her arms and staring at the egg salad and olive sandwich on her plate. “I dunno, Finnelan, like…I’m tempted to let her do her thing, but what if she gets hurt? Then it’d be my fault, and after…after Arcturus Forest, I can’t stand the thought of losing anyone else I’m responsible for.”

The look Finnelan gave her was sympathetic. “Well, the Headmistress has given you some pretty decent leeway in your curriculum, O’Neill. Give it some thought, I’m sure you’ll think of something…”

Meanwhile, in the student cafeteria, Keyatta was having a much more spirited discussion about the matter, a scowl on her pretty face as she stabbed her spoon repeatedly into her mashed potatoes as the other two in the lavender team, Astrid Ingridsdottir from Iceland and Lihua Chang from China looked on with amusement. “I just don’t get what her damn problem is!” she snapped, the harsh tone at odds with her usually relaxed Louisianan drawl. “Like, I ain’t a damn kid, I know how to ride a broom!”

“Yes, but if a student is hurt during her class, it will be the professor’s fault,” Lihua reminded her primly before she took a drink from her water glass, and Keyatta fairly glared at her.

“I know that, but…it’s like she wants me to keep training wheels on when I don’t need them, and it’s so annoying. It’s like she doesn’t care what I’m capable of, and I just don’t know why!”

Lihua and Astrid glanced at one another. “You have heard the rumors about Professor O’Neill, right?” Astrid asked, and Keyatta huffed.

“Which ones? To date, there’s the one where when Atsuko Kagari was a professor here before she went into showbiz, O’Neill would frequently show up and have a tryst with Kagari in her office. Then there’s the one saying that O’Neill has a whole harem of witches out in Wedinburgh that she’s banging on the weekends. Or how about-”

“Not her love life, Key, but her history as a broom rider,” Lihuang said with a roll of her eyes.

“You mean like the Battle of Arcturus Forest? Lih, we learn about that in History of Magic. That’s not a rumor, that’s documented history. She was in command of the air group.”

“And how many riders did she lose?” Astrid asked. “They suffered really badly against the Silent Spring cult, surely that would make her want to be cautious…”

“Plus there’s the whole matter of her winning a bunch of broom races and she was a professional daredevil for a while…”

“Wait, what?” Keyatta asked, frowning. “She was a daredevil?”

“Yeah, it was probably like, six or seven years ago that she retired from all that, she was pretty popular on Witchtube for a long time.”

Keyatta blinked at that. Her family had been pretty traditional, and so frowned on things like Witchtube and other fancy modern spells…by the Nine, she shuddered to think about what Grand-maman would say about the magitronics courses being taught now. “I didn’t know,” she murmured to herself thoughtfully. That night, she would stay up until the wee hours of the morning, watching old footage of a woman she could scarcely believe was the stuffy flight instructor of Luna Nova. And through all of that, the resentment grew. Professor O’Neill used to fly like that and she was complaining about Keyatta going a little too fast? Merde, but that was so annoying! Her next flight class was on Friday, and she’d show Professor O’Neill then, by God! Decision made and tentative plan forming in her mind, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

xxxXXXxxx

Hannah quirked an eyebrow as Amanda came storming into the house on Friday evening, her expression thunderous. “Rough day at class?” she asked as Barbara came into the living room, drying her hands, the two of them watching as Amanda angrily toed her shoes off and making a beeline to the kitchen where they heard the fridge open and then close, followed by the sound of a beer bottle opening. Then Amanda reappeared, still scowling as she threw herself onto the couch, dropping her feet on top of the coffee table before taking a deep drink from the bottle, and Hannah and Barbara glanced at one another, slightly concerned. This was the worst mood Amanda had been in coming home from school in a long while.

Finally Amanda pulled the bottle away from her lips with a gasp for air. “I’m gonna kill her,” she muttered darkly.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “If it’s a student you’re talking about, it’s probably not allowed, love.”

“She deserves it!”

“Who was it, that Laveau girl from the US?” Barbara asked, and Amanda huffed out a wordless acknowledgment. “What’d she do this time?”

“Damn near gave me a heart attack today!” Amanda snapped before taking another drink. “For a moment, I thought she had lost control of her broom, and I went after her like a shot, but she gained control just before she hit the trees and then just smirked up at me. Little brat!”

Hannah and Barbara just looked at one another before turning almost sappily sympathetic faces on their lover. “Oh, no, Amanda, whatever will you do?” Hannah started, and Amanda shot her a sharp glance.

“Oi,” she started warningly, but Barbara was already talking.

“How awful, you’d think these kids would know to behave themselves doing something so dangerous. Honestly, the lack of self-preservation in some people. It doesn’t remind you of anyone that we know, does it, Han?”

Hannah tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It does sound familiar, Babs, but I just can’t put my finger on it…”

By now Amanda was pouting at them. “Alright, alright, I get it, no need to be so mean about it.”

“Awww, poor Amanda thinks that we’re being mean,” Hannah grinned, some heat creeping into her tone, and Barbara caught on immediately, wrapping loose arms around her, resting her cheek on Hannah’s shoulder as she fixed glittering eyes on Amanda, who was now watching them very intently.

“However shall we make it up to her?” Barbara asked, and Hannah almost laughed at the way Amanda swallowed thickly at that.

“I think I might have an idea,” she murmured as she turned her head and captured Barbara’s lips in a slow, heated kiss. The rest of the evening was spent rather successfully distracting Amanda from the issues that plagued her mind. Unfortunately it would be only a short reprieve…

xxxXXXxxx

“Miss Laveau,” came the stern voice, and Keyatta froze, wind whistling around the crowd gathered on the walkway of the Observatory, her broom propped on her shoulder.

She sighed heavily before turning slowly, facing the irate face of the other American. “Yes, Professor?” she asked, voice kept carefully free of derision.

“Look, I know you’re a skilled rider, but you have to follow the rules, alright?” Professor O’Neill asked, voice almost weary, and for a brief moment, Keyatta almost felt sorry for her teacher. Then steel crept into Professor O’Neill’s expression. “That said, you ever pull a stunt like Friday again, I’m taking your broom and giving you a D- for the semester, am I understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” Keyatta muttered, and as Professor O’Neill nodded and began to turn away, the resentment of all the scolding she had received caused the words to spill from her lips. “Pfft, like you could do any better.”

Everyone froze at that, Keyatta included. She hadn’t meant to say it, she really hadn’t! Respect for elders and those in authority had been drilled into her from a very young age, and if Papa had been there, he’d probably already be switching her backside for daring to sass her teacher. She glanced, wide-eyed and fearful, at Lihuang and Astrid who were both looking at her with horrified expressions. Then again, so were all of the other students immediately surrounding her, and she licked her lips nervously as she looked at the frozen back of Professor O’Neill. Nine preserve me, she’s going to be so furious!

But when the professor turned around, it wasn’t with an angry scowl, it was with a look of almost incredulous delight, and she gave a short, astonished laugh the molded into words. “I-I’m sorry, but what did you just say?”

“I…I…I didn’t mean…I’m so sor-!” Keyatta stammered, but Professor O’Neill cut her off.

“No, seriously. I want you to say that again, right now.”

Keyatta winced, her heart sinking into her stomach. Well, Professor O’Neill was telling her to say the words again, and she was already in enough trouble. Might as well. “I said, ‘like you could do any better,’ ma’am,” she answered meekly, head bowed.

“Okay, okay, that’s what I thought. Stay right where you are, nobody else start flying.” The rustle of clothes, and Keyatta looked up to see the red-headed flight instructor pull out her wand, all while grinning at Keyatta with an expression that would have been home on a shark’s face. “Vera Gurasare,” Professor O’Neill chanted, and she disappeared with a pop.

For a moment silence reigned, but then Astrid turned to Lihuang. “Dibs! I call dibs on her crystal ball!”

Lihuang scowled. “Damn, I wanted that, it’s got better reception than mine does. Fine, I get her potions set.”

“That’s fair. Do you want her antique shrunken head?”

“Ugh, no, that thing creeps me out. It always feels like it’s watching me…”

Keyatta frowned. “What are you doing?” she snapped, and her two teammates turned exasperated looks on her.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re divvying up your belongings now, so we don’t fight after Professor O’Neill kills you.”

Keyatta scoffed. “She’s not gonna kill me!” she protested, but she couldn’t help some of the doubt that crept into her words. Given some of the rumors about Professor O’Neill’s kill count during the fight against Silent Spring, could she be blamed for doubting, though?

And so her two so-called friends continued to lay claim to her belongings, other students occasionally throwing in a request, and an almost festive mood seemed to grip everyone except for Keyatta. After all, no one had ever seen Professor O’Neill really angry before, and there was a lot of curiosity about how exactly the punishment would be meted out.

Then, finally, one of the girls keeping lookout cried out. “Hey! There she is!” And then, softer, with frank admiration in her voice: “Oh, damn.”

There was almost a stampede as the students crowded at the railing, getting a look at the professor now walking towards the Observatory, and Keyatta couldn’t help but silently repeat that sentiment in her head. Oh, damn.

Professor O’Neill had changed out of her teacher’s robes and into something much more informal…dark green khaki cargo pants with knee pads built into them and a tight, black sleeveless shirt that showed off her trim torso, leanly muscled and tattooed arms, and broad shoulders. A beat up pair of combat boots and flight goggles strapped across her forehead completed the ensemble. She also had one of the biggest and monstrous looking brooms resting across her shoulders, and for the first time, Keyatta realized that she may have made a mistake. She gulped nervously as Professor O’Neill jabbed a finger up at the tower and then pointed at the ground in front of her.

“Oh my God, she’s going to kill me,” she whimpered, but there was nothing else she could do. A feeling of dread sitting like concrete in her stomach, she mounted her broom and flew down to the waiting professor, feeling very much like she was going to her executioner.

When she landed, she stood meekly in front of Professor O’Neill who stared at her with unreadable eyes. Then the older witch huffed, and brought her broom around with a flourish, the broom whistling through the air before it came to a rest. “Alright, so, you’re gonna back up your words, kid, we’re going to race. And this? This…is Silver,” Professor O’Neill said as she gestured to the massive broom, and Keyatta couldn’t help the small frown that took to her face, one that the professor noticed. “What?” she asked, tone short.

“Sorry, it’s just…Silver? That’s an odd name for a broom.”

Professor O’Neill frowned. “Silver…as in the Lone Ranger’s horse. It’s a classic name!”

By some small mercy, Keyatta kept her face composed, even as that little bit of knowledge made Professor O’Neill just that little bit more relatable. Her teacher liked old-timey cowboy shows. Huh. “Of course,” she said, tone neutral, and Professor O’Neill stared at her with narrowed eyes before she continued.

“Anyway, Silver here was made by Caplett and Prague, and probably cost more than your family’s property.”

Her first reaction was to scoff. Her family was one of the more prominent families of Louisiana, but then she really processed what Professor O’Neill had said. Caplett and Prague was the Bugatti of the broom world, and she gave the monstrous broom a once over, noting the sleek design and the unique knee and foot pegs, and she remembered some of the footage she had seen where Professor O’Neill had been able to keep full control over the broom without her hands. There were also gouges cut into the wood of the broom handle, as well as scorch marks. This was the broom the older witch had taken to battle against Silent Spring. And Keyatta was so totally dead. A school broom couldn’t compare to that broom.

Thus, it came as a complete surprise when Professor O’Neill tilted the broom handle towards her. “You will be the one riding it.”

Keyatta’s eyes flared open in shock. “What?”

“If I rode this, it wouldn’t be fair. So, you get Silver, I’ll ride your broom.”

“But Professor…I-I don’t want to damage it!”

Professor O’Neill threw her head back and laughed out loud at that. “Ha! Trust me kid, you should be way more worried about this broom hurting you than you hurting it. Now come on, put your hand on the broomstick, I have to tell it that you’re allowed to fly it.” Kenyatta hesitantly put her hand on the well-worn handle, and her breath was instantly taken away. It was like grabbing onto a live wire! And Professor O’Neill was going to let her ride this thing? “Silver, this is Keyatta Laveau, she’s going to be riding you. Don’t hold anything back, do exactly what she tells you to.”

The broom seemed to pulse in her hand, and some of that intensity to it seemed to reduce, and Keyatta let out a slow breath, suddenly very nervous. She was really going to ride this monster? Yes, apparently. Professor O’Neill was already mounting Keyatta’s broom, lifting off and hovering about ten feet off the ground, looking down at her. “We’ll do one lap, and I’ll mark the course with a trail, then we can race, and whoever wins gets bragging rights. Now come on, we don’t have all day.”

Numbly, Keyatta cast Tia Freyre, and Silver hovered obediently three feet off the ground, and she mounted it, rear resting on the well-worn saddle, wrapping her legs around the pegs so that they rested behind her knees and on top of her feet, like she had seen Professor O’Neill do in the videos on Witchtube. Heart hammering nervously, she gently brought the broom up to where her professor was waiting, and it was so strange…she could almost feel the broom’s impatient potential, it was like she was driving a formula one race car at the speed limit. The broom did it, but it seriously felt like it wanted to open up and just go.

Professor O’Neill gave her a smirk before turning forward and heading off, a sparkling golden trail emitting from Keyatta’s broom’s bristles, and the course that they were to run started with a long straightaway before banking sharply to the right before it meandered all over the school, at times mere feet from the ground, other times soaring up into the sky. It circled tightly up and around the New Moon Tower before diving sharply towards the ground. It did two laps around the perimeter of the athletic field. It weaved through the spires on the roof of the main school building, and it ran a few feet over the ground, heading towards the Observatory before it shot straight up, and Professor O’Neill marked a horizontal circle just in front of the end of the walkway that would be the finish.

They stopped there for a moment, and Keyatta glanced at all of her classmates who were looking at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she licked her lips as she wiped sweaty hands off on her robes, and Professor O’Neill was still smirking at her. “You can back out now if you want,” she said, amusement clear in her voice, and the competitive fire in Keyatta’s heart was lit.

“No, I want to do this!” she protested, and Professor O’Neill nodded before going into a slow dive back towards the base of the tower and the start point, and Keyatta took a deep, steeling breath. Okay, she had the better broom, and she was also smaller and lighter than the older witch. She should be more able to maneuver through tight areas…right? Professor O’Neill had well over a decade of riding experience, including some very high stakes races, but she was on Keyatta’s broom, and while it was a nice enough broom, it wasn’t built for a race more intense than the Luna Nova Cup. Surely she had a chance!

With that little bit of self-reassurance, she gave one last glance at her classmates before she, too, dived down to where Professor O’Neill was now waiting, and seeing the red-headed teacher roll her multi-colored eyes, she looked behind her to see most of her class taking off on their own brooms as they headed for the best vantage points to see the race. They were going to have an audience.

Then she reached the start point, and Professor O’Neill fished a pair of goggles out of one of her pants cargo pockets and handed them to her. “Here, you’re going to want these,” she said, dropping the goggles that had been resting across her forehead down over her mismatched eyes as Keyatta put on the offered goggles, making sure that the strap was tight. Once her hands returned to the broomstick, Professor O’Neill shot her a look. “Alright, y’all ready?” she drawled, and Keyatta nodded, nerves skyrocketing, and she wouldn’t trust herself to speak. “Alright, on your mark…get set…go!”

They were both off like a shot, the air instantly roaring against Keyatta’s ears as Silver rocketed forward, easily outstripping Professor O’Neill, and Keyatta couldn’t help the exhilarated whoop that erupted from her as she tore down the golden trail…only for that excitement to disappear as she shot past the turn, and she grunted, straining with all her strength to try and turn the broom to return to the race course, lifting her head to see Professor O’Neill effortlessly make the sharp turn, legs crossed at the ankles over the broomstick as she yanked up on the broom, taking the lead. Snarling every last Cajun curse she knew under her breath, Keyatta wrestled with Silver, finally getting it to turn, and she shot after Professor O’Neill as she cursed herself for her stupidity. All the speed in the world wouldn’t help if she lost fine control of the broom. She only had to go just a little faster than she knew her broom was capable of, and she’d win!

The next leg of the race didn’t have much in the way of sharp turns, and she was able to close the large gap that had developed between her and Professor O’Neill, but she couldn’t quite take the lead before they reached the New Moon Tower, and she grit her teeth as she followed Professor O’Neill in the spiraling path up and up, and she started to get a feel of just how badly she was actually outclassed. She was able to keep the path, but her movements were slightly jerky, and she kept well away from the tower…Professor O’Neill was as smooth as silk in her flight, and had she reached a hand up, she’d be able to touch the tower whose windows flashed by in rapid blurs. By the Nine, she’s good, she breathed to herself…and then they were clear of the tower and heading into the dive, the negative G’s pulling at Keyatta’s robes, and her stomach seemed to rise up into her throat as she was able to use gravity to take the lead again…only to lose it as she slowed down well in advance of the ground so that she could make the sharp turn. Overshooting a hard bank wasn’t a problem when you had nothing but air in front of you, but not pulling out of a dive heading right for the ground…

So it was a surprise when Professor O’Neill shot past her at the same break neck speed, and she couldn’t help the cry of alarm as the Texan rocketed towards the hard and unforgiving ground, only to stare in shock as Professor O’Neill managed to pull out of the dive, the bristles of Keyatta’s broom slapping the grass before O’Neill was pulling further ahead, and Keyatta grit her teeth as she followed after, once again closing the distance as they closed in on the athletic field, but even here she was outmatched, Professor O’Neill heading into the turns perilously close to the ground, close enough that when she turned, her knees brushed against the ground, the pads built into the pants protecting them as well as providing that much more friction to have the turns be that much sharper, and frustration bit at Keyatta as the gap between her and the Professor grew that much wider. She didn’t even know that her broom was capable of flying like that, how the hell did Professor O’Neill make it look that effortless?!

Then they were on the straightaway heading towards the main building, and Keyatta tried, she really did, but the lead between her and the Professor was just too big for her to clear in the short distance they had, and all she could manage was to get within ten feet of Professor O’Neill when they entered the spires, and honestly, it was at that point that Keyatta gave up all hope of actually winning this thing. She had to slow down to a manageable speed as she wove between the towering spires, but through it all, she couldn’t help but gape at Professor O’Neill. Keyatta was confident enough in her flying ability to keep the distance between her and the spires to within a few feet as she passed them…Professor O’Neill? She kept the distance down to mere inches, and how she did it blew Keyatta’s mind.

Professor O’Neill moved her body, not the broom, and it boggled the mind to think of how much strength and coordination it must have taken, but for each spire that she passed, Professor O’Neill would literally throw her body in the opposite direction, keeping contact with the broom with only a hooked ankle and gripping hand, and the amount of control she must have had over the broom to keep from spinning out of control as she did the crazy maneuver…Keyatta wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t powerful enough to exert that much control over a broom, and probably wouldn’t for years!

Then they were clear of the main building, and Keyatta ground her teeth together as she leaned low over the broom, urging it to go faster, to close that unbridgeable gap between her and the professor, and Silver complied, leaping forward eagerly. This time, she drew even with Professor O’Neill as they shot toward the near right angle turn that lead straight up the side of the Observatory, and she glanced over to see the former daredevil flier smirk at her before Keyatta had to slow down so she could make the turn safely, and she watched as Professor O’Neill leapt up away from the broom, planting a foot on top of where the bristles met the broomstick, pulling up with all her strength, the muscles of her back flexing and swelling with the strain of it as the bristles rasped against the grass before she was shooting straight up, body perfectly in line with the broom, and her sleek form cut through the air with very little drag, giving her just enough of an edge that Keyatta, despite trying her hardest, still finished the race just behind Professor O’Neill, much to the delight of her classmates who cheered and clapped at Professor O’Neill’s victory, and as the redhead slowed down and sat properly on the broom and Keyatta caught up to her, she shot a smug look at her. “So, you still think I can’t do any better?” she laughed.

Keyatta didn’t reply as she turned and headed back to the walkway, depositing the broom silently against the railing after she landed. She wasn’t even mad, she was actually terribly impressed with how well Professor O’Neill had flown, but the knowledge that she hadn’t had a chance even while on Silver was a bitter pill to swallow. She wouldn’t participate in the rest of the lesson after Professor O’Neill corralled all the other students back and continued her teaching. Instead, Keyatta merely sat on the walkway in the bright sun and brisk wind, arms wrapped around the legs drawn up to her chest as she went through the race moment by moment, analyzing every last move that Professor O’Neill had made. The older witch was so skilled, so it still begged the question:

Why would someone who could fly like that be so opposed to any of the students really pushing their skills and abilities to the max? Was she truly so afraid of losing someone that she would continue to keep them well below what they were all capable of?

These thoughts continued to ear at her as Professor O’Neill wrapped up the lesson and the rest of the students left, Lihuang and Astrid hesitating slightly over her as she continued to sit, but with a pair of sighs, they, too, mounted their brooms and left, leaving only her and Professor O’Neill on the walkway.

“Hey, kiddo, are you alright?” Professor O’Neill asked after a long pause, and normally the nickname would have annoyed Keyatta, but Professor O’Neill never called anyone by a nickname. “I, uh, I’d like to apologize for what I said…at the end of the race. It wasn’t very mature of me, but I was so pumped up after the race…it’s not very often than I get the chance to really fly like that…”

“Professor…” Keyatta started, voice hesitant. “Why…why won’t you let use really fly?” She turned confused, sad eyes on Professor O’Neill, who shifted uneasily, a look of discomfort on her face. “I’d get so mad because you treated me like a little kid when all the other professors would treat me my age, but…”

“Little kid?” Professor O’Neill scoffed as she dropped down to sit beside Keyatta. “I wouldn’t let a little kid ride that course, and I sure as shit wouldn’t let a little kid ride Silver!” Then she paused, fingers tapping absently on the floor of the walkway. “I just…I lost a lot of close friends and a cherished mentor during the Battle of Arcturus Forest, and the thought of losing anyone else, especially for something stupid like an accident while broom riding…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” she said, voice almost broken, and Keyatta shot a startled glance at her teacher, who had a completely open look on her face, a deep vulnerability to her as she opened up to her student, and Keyatta wasn’t sure how to handle being the one that Professor O’Neill was so open towards.

Then she glanced at Silver and blinked as the idea struck her. “Hey, Professor, can I ask a favor?” she asked, and at the redhead’s questioning glance, she continued. “Can I…can I see you run that course, on Silver, not holding anything back?”

Professor O’Neill stared at her for a long moment before a mischievous grin split her face. “You know what, kid, I’ll do you one better. You want to ride with me while I run the course?”

Keyatta’s eyes flared open at the, and she was so very glad that her dark skin helped hide blushes as the thought of riding on Silver with Professor O’Neill struck her full force. “I-I don’t know if that would b-be a good idea, Professor,” she protested, and Professor O’Neill just grinned wider.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve had to ride double with other students before, generally witches who are really uncertain of their ability and need someone to show them the ropes.” She stood up, dusted off her pants, and offered a hand to Keyatta. “Come on, I insist.”

Keyatta hesitated for a moment before she placed her hand in the warm, well-calloused hand of her professor, and she was pulled effortlessly to her feet as her blush deepened, though thankfully it seemed as though Professor O’Neill didn’t noticed as she prepared for the flight, first telling Silver that it would bear two riders, and it flashed briefly as the saddle elongated and the pegs moved so that both riders could rest their feet on them. Then Professor O’Neill changed Keyatta’s robes that they had a harness that she would connect to her belt, for safety, she explained cheerily as she motioned to the leather strap that Keyatta had noticed wrapped around the broomstick and that was attached to the saddle. Professor O’Neill would be attached to the broom, and Keyatta would be attached to her professor, so there was no chance of falling.

They mounted, and Keyatta wrapped arms around Professor O’Neill’s waist after she attached the clip of her harness to Professor O’Neill’s belt, feeling the firm, toned muscles dancing under the black fabric of her teacher’s shirt as Professor O’Neill buckled herself onto the broom. “Alright, just remember, keep with my body as we fly. We won’t be going as fast as I can get Silver to go, but it’ll be fast. And if you do well, then maybe we can talk about starting an advanced flyer’s course. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds good, Professor,” Keyatta managed to say with a level voice, despite the heavy blush on her face.

Professor O’Neill laughed as the broom lifted off the walkway. “Of course it does, it’s my idea! Now, hold on, here we go!” They shot off into the welcoming spring sky like an arrow fired from a bow, and Keyatta couldn’t help the laugh of delight that sprang from her lips as they dove towards the ground and the waiting starting point. After the flight, which would be the fastest Keyatta had ever been on, she would resolve to become the president of the sizable Professor O’Neill Fan Club as well as to put together the framework for an Advanced Flyer’s Club to be presented to the Headmistress, but right here and now, she resolved to truly enjoy the feeling of the wind in her hair, the warm sun against her skin, and the strength of the professor she held onto and moved with as they streaked through the course.

One thing was for damn certain, though…she was never going to be a problem student for Professor O’Neill ever again!

[supportforindieauthors]

Into the Pines by P D Dawson

Mr Harper rested his index finger to his temple as he listened to his client talking about his daily routine. Sebastian had been coming to therapy for three weeks, but Harper knew he hadn't yet got to the heart of his client's problem.

'Listen, these sessions are not cheap,' Harper said while straightening himself in his chair, 'and I like to make sure I give my clients good value for money, but so far all you've told me is how you live your life. What I want to get to is the reason you can't live it the way you want to.'

'I know I've been skirting the issue, haven't I?' Sebastian replied, crouching slightly to a fetal position and gently rocking. 'I don't know what I was thinking really, as I know my story can't be told.'

'All stories can be told, Sebastian, though I grant you, not all can be believed. You have to remember, I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to guide you, and unless you open up, I can't help you.'

Harper's study was cosy with a fake fireplace; giving the impression, they were sitting in a log cabin in the woods when in reality they were in the basement of a building in Baton Rouge. 'No judgement, you say?'

'None at all, Sebastian.'

'Well, I guess that was my hope all along, to tell someone about the unspeakable madness that has plagued me since my early life. I've been stalling because I didn't want you to think of me as mad, but I suppose that's silly really.'

'That's not silly at all. Everyone worries about opening up, but just tell me what it is that brought you here in the first place?'

'Well, there's something that happened to me when I was younger. My parents were both arguing, as usual, on our way home from a holiday. It was dark, and we were travelling down a country road in Louisiana, not too far from home. Holidays were particularly bad with my parents, as they were in each other’s' space more than they liked. I told them I had to pee and that I couldn't wait until we got home. They stopped arguing long enough to listen. My father brought the car to a halt, and then they resumed their argument while I got out. I was an only child, and so carried the weight of my parent's unhappiness alone. The weight felt so heavy that night that it pushed me deep into the woods, and I wondered how long it would be before they'd noticed I had gone for an exorbitantly long whizz.'

Sebastian froze up as if something, in particular, about his story had disturbed him. 'Go on, Sebastian, remember, there's no judgement here.' Harper was intrigued to know more. Most of his patients' stories were trivial to everyone but themselves, but Sebastian seemed to hold a tale of some reverence.

'I thought it was my rebellion and the hatred I felt towards my parents that pushed me into the pines, but now I'm not so sure. I just kept walking and walking, occasionally looking up at the trees and seeing the stars shimmering above. I don't know whether it was the contrast between the darkness at the tops of the trees, but the stars looked particularly lucid and bright that night. I almost felt naked to them, as if I could have reached up and touched them somehow or that they could have touched me. The woods at night is a scary place for anyone, especially for an eleven-year-old kid, but I just kept walking. I felt a kind of satisfaction in knowing that my parents would have something else to think about other than their hatred for each other. Soon I was sure I'd hear them calling out for me, with anxious tremors in their voice, but they never did. What happened, was very different, and very much the source of all the fears I still carry to this day.'

'You can tell me,' Harper begged, feeling Sebastian was losing his nerve again, 'was there some man in the woods, someone that did something bad to you?'

'No, God, nothing like that! What happened was nothing as earthly as all that.'

'I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions; please do continue.'

'Well, even though my parents didn't come after me that night, for reasons I would find out later, I wasn't exactly alone. As I walked through the trees, feeling the soggy earthiness beneath my feet, I could also feel a static charge building up on everything around me. I wondered if there was a storm on the way, but it was the clearest night I can ever remember. I did see flashes shooting across the sky in the darkness, but I assumed it was just shooting stars. What was real was when I reached out and put my hand around the trunk of one of the pine trees. I saw an electrical spark fire into my hands, and it is around this time that my memory becomes a little hazy as to what happened. But what I do remember is a figure standing in the darkness. There was a clearing among the trees, and I could see a swamp and this figure was standing next to it as if it was waiting for me.'

'So, there was a man?'

'No, it wasn't the figure of a man. This figure was very tall, with long limbs and it appeared to have a halo around its outline as if it wasn't of this earth, or not grounded in our reality. My first instinct was to run back to my parents, but my feet had become stuck. All I could do was tremble as this dark figure walked towards me and took my hand. It then proceeded to drag me towards the swamp, which by this time was aglow and seemed to vibrate with ultraviolet light. When I got a chance to look at the figure, I noticed its face was a featureless hollow void of darkness, and as it entered the swamp with me, it morphed into something else, something alien to me, but I can't remember what exactly. All I remember is breathing in the swamp as if it were a thick goo, and thinking to myself, so this is how it all ends. The next thing I remember is waking up in the woods with a sore head and seeing the sun high in the sky beating down on me. My parents had called for the sheriff's help in finding me, but apparently, I had been missing for two days without a trace. To me, it had felt like only seconds had passed between entering the swamp and waking up.'

'I cast no judgement, Sebastian, but I need you to confront reality if you are to get better. What you are explaining to me here is a manifestation of your fears. You were a young boy who feared his parents were going to break up, and so yes; I'm sure you entered the woods in rebellion, but then to deal with that challenging time you have since concocted a fantastical story to supersede your real feelings. Perhaps you fell and hit your head, that would explain your time loss as well as your visions.'

'No,' Sebastian shouted, standing up. 'They took me from the woods that night. They pulled me into the swamp. I remember the coldness seeping into me, and then I felt like I was falling backwards and my body became light. They took me against my will, they poked needles into me, AND THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED TO ME. I SWEAR.'

'Sebastian, think about what you're saying. I can help you find the real truth of that night, I can, but I can't let you continue with this false memory. It's this memory that is keeping you from moving on with your life.'

Sebastian sat down again and then pulled back his sleeve. He leant over and showed his arm to Harper. Harper wrapped his hand around Sebastian's arm and rubbed his thumb over a mark on his skin that looked like a barcode. 'Is this a tattoo?' He asked.

'No, it's not a tattoo. I've had this ever since that night. A few days ago, I booked in to have it removed, hoping that this would help rid me of my fear.'

'So, what happened, did you bottle it?'

'No, I had it removed, but when I woke up the next day it was back. Even the scars from its removal have gone, see?'

'Impossible!'

'No, it's true, though I can understand your hesitance in believing me.'

'I'm sure you can, but if you don't let me help you, then I suggest we end our session right here. I shall refund you for half of this session, and then I want you to see a psychiatrist as your delusions suggest you need more than just therapy.'

'No, that won't be necessary.'

'Why not? You need help!'

'The aliens got all they needed from me years ago, but when the barcode on my arm came back, I knew they wouldn't leave me alone until I had fulfilled a promise I had made to them on that night in the woods. I have dreamt of nothing else but that promise, every single night for years. They gave me back because they needed me to bring them someone else. Not everyone is influenced to go walking into the woods at night on their own, so they need a little help from their previous subjects.'

'I don't follow you; what are you saying? I do think you need that psychiatrist, and soon. I think you need to be subscribed some medication, for my therapy is limited for those who accept their reality, but need help in understanding it. Your problem is that you cannot seem to separate your dreams from your reality.'

'No, you see, in my first two sessions with you, I was genuinely hoping you could make me better, perhaps even without telling you the truth of that night. But that's impossible. I realise that now. There's only one way you can help me. I've struggled with my conscience, but I'm sure you're the right man for the job. Your ability to debunk the fantastical stories that people tell you will put you in good stead to handle this.'

Harper tried to get to his feet, but Sebastian pushed him back into his chair before pushing a needle into his arm. Harper struggled as the contents of the syringe was emptied into his veins, and the warm light of the room fell to darkness.

Harper awoke, feeling like he was coming out of a heavy night of drinking. His brain felt like it was pushing against his skull, and his sight was blurry. Sensing a presence beside him, he spoke. 'Where am I?'

'All you need to know is that you're in a Louisiana wood, but soon you'll be someplace else.'

Harper instantly recognised Sebastian's voice, and he reached for the car door handle, but he couldn't reach as his wrists were tied together with old rope that was cutting into his sore skin. 'Please let me go. I can get you some help. I promise I can.'

'The only way you can help me is if I let them have you, I know that now.' Sebastian replied. 

He had run down the window and was blowing smoke out into the darkness of the Louisiana night. 'It's about twenty years too late, but that won't matter, after all, time doesn't mean the same to them.'

Sebastian almost smoked his cigarette down to the filter, but before it lost its burn, he pushed the tip into the back of Harper's hand. 'Shit, why did you do that?' Harper screamed out in pain.

'I need you lucid for them. You have to be awake when you go through.'

'Go through what?'

'You'll see.'

Sebastian dragged Harper along through the woods. He had dreamt this already, his dreams portending to this very night and the promise forced upon him. The earth was bouncy, the air was cold, and the trees were dense until they came to a clearing. There in the clearing was a swamp. They both saw the thick fog that hung over it like a cloud, but something else was happening too. There was an unexplainable light shining up from its surface, and as Harper recalled the accuracy of Sebastian's tall tales of abduction, it all made sense to him. 'If all that you said is true, then don't do this. I'll help you find someone else instead. We'll look for someone together, someone that deserves it more than me.'

'No, Mr Harper, you're here now, and I can't wait any longer, it has to be tonight, they told me so in a dream. The portal is only open at certain times according to some celestial imbalance that they rely on.'

With that said, a tall, dark figure appeared beside the swamp and Sebastian, knowing Harper could no longer move, let go of him and retreated a little way into the woods where he could watch from a safe vantage point. The alien figure approached Harper and grabbed him by the hand. 'Please no, I believe now, I believe, but don't take me.' Harper yelled. 'I'm a shitty person and an even shittier therapist. You don't want me! My bones are weak and brittle. I'm a poor human subject, you'll see.'

Sebastian turned around as he didn't want to witness Harper's pathetic begging. As he walked away he heard his therapist gurgling through the goo as he was taken down into its spacious confines, a gurgling sound, of which his own had played out like an echo throughout his life. An echo that confirmed the reality most people knew; was only a slither of what was really out there.

Back in his car, he took a cigarette, the last from his pack, and lit it. His hand was trembling at the thought of what he had just done, but he knew it was better they took Harper, better that than taking his wife or one of his children. As he drove away, down through the narrow muddy roads that led back to safety, he felt a tingling on his arm, and a light feeling came over his whole body. He pulled over for a second and turned on the interior light inside the car. The barcode had gone from his arm without a trace, telling him his hanging guilt would be worth it, for they had finally let go of his life, and he hoped, of his dreams too.

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[prophetandprincess]

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Trigger Warning: Discussions of past assault 

I’m so sorry I have not been updating nearly enough. Life is always getting in the way these days. 

"If I'd known that you had a cop hanging around, I wouldn't have pushed you so hard to find a guy to hook up with." Monica's voice attempted to sound nonchalant, but there was a sly look on her face that Alex knew all too well.

"He's a very good looking guy, very broad shoulders," Gabriel added, smiling like the cat who ate the canary as he held the apartment building door open for Monica and Alex.

"It's not like that and you both know it." Alex rolled her eyes as they all waved to Henry while they crossed the lobby and made their way to the elevator.

"It might not be like that now, but I don't think he's mind if it was," Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows as the elevator started up to Monica's place.

"Alright, laugh it up." Alex let a smile creep onto her face as she leaned back and closed her eyes. The metal was cold against her exposed back, but it felt nice after how hot it had been outside and in the cab.

There was nothing romantic between Alex and Michael, but she would be lying if she hadn't thought about it once or twice. It would never happen, but she had thought about it. In reality, Alex was far too messed up from what happened last year and still too involved with James to pull a nice guy like Michael into that particular mess.

"Seriously though, only you would turn a nice night out into a police investigation," Monica sighed as she opened the door to her apartment and they all walked in. She went right to the fridge and pulled out bottles of beer for everyone.

"Hey, if the bouncer would have done something, I wouldn't have been involved at all," Alex pointed out as she took the beer and jumped up onto the kitchen counter.

"Girl, there is something not right with you." Monica shook her head as she watched Alex take the brass knuckles out of her dress and slip them back into her clutch.

"Does this happen to her often?" Gabriel asked.

"No," Alex sighed.

"Yes," Monica said over her.

"That's very informative," Gabriel laughed before taking a long drink from his beer. "Glad you could clear that up for me."

"Monica seems to think that I like to find the most dangerous situations in a ten mile radius and throw myself into them due to some past bad decisions I have made," Alex clarified as she kicked her feet.

"This girl has an ex-boyfriend who almost killed her, most of her other exes are criminals, and for a week last should year she looked like she went ten rounds with the Hulk." Monica moved into the kitchen, done being dramatic, and gave Alex a look as she walked by. "But I'm the one that's overacting."

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" Alex laughed as she watched Monica pour three shots from an unmarked bottle and handed her one.

"Hey," Monica bumped her knee with her hip, "I just want you to be safe. I like you too much now for something to happen to you. It's just me being selfish, if I'm being honest."

"And you always get your way," Alex smiled as she raised her shot glass, Gabriel getting up and joining them. "Here's to me trying to stay out of trouble."

"¡Por dios! What was that?" Gabriel coughed after he downed the shot, putting the back of his hand to his mouth.

"Louisiana special," Monica laughed, not at all phased, "and before you ask, I have no clue what's in it. I just get my Dad to make me a couple bottles when I go home to bring to the city with me."

"I think it's pure god damn alcohol," Alex laughed as she held out her shot glass. "Give me another one."

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Monica laughed as she poured another round.

"I am going to regret this in the morning," Gabriel laughed as he saluted to the two of them before all three downed the second round of shots.

The group finished their beers and did three more shots of Louisiana Special before calling it a night. Alex would have been content to stay there the rest of the night, but Monica fell asleep between shots and Gabriel was dozing as well. Alex just felt numb, but that had nothing to do with the alcohol. It was just the calm before the storm.

Gabriel, bless him, offered to walk her up to her apartment, but Alex had declined as she didn't think he was sober enough to make it up the two flights of steps. The warm little glow from her bedside lamp, pushing away any imagined monsters, was comforting and Alex thanked her past self for turning it on before she left. Ghosts of her past were already crowding her head, making it so that her nightmares tonight were probably going to be horrendous, she didn't need to add to it by walking into a dark apartment.

Alex's phone started to ring, which surprised her as it was almost three in the morning. She figured it was Jake. It would be just like him to call her because he was worried about her and then complain tomorrow that he was tired. However, the screen stated that the caller was unknown, but she accepted the call and put it up to her ear.

"Hello?" Alex slipped out of her red dress and left it on the bedroom floor as she made her way to the bathroom.

There was silence on the other end of the line, but there was background noise that let her know that someone was there. Alex waited a moment, her fingers going up to itch the new tattoo on her chest. She had gotten it as close to her heart as possible while still making it look nice, but the dress had aggravated it a good deal. She had gotten it as soon as she returned to the city, no one in her one street town was even a tattoo artist, let alone one that knew Russian, but obviously she should have kept the bandage on another day.

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" Alex asked again, leaning against the sink.

There was another beat before the line went dead. Alex shrugged and then completed her night time rituals, dressing in a tank top and underwear. Instead of going to bed, she grabbed a bottle of water and dropped onto the couch. Exhaustion was settling on her, but the fear of a hangover and fear of nightmares made Alex avoid her bed.

The apartment had cooled down since the afternoon, but compared to Monica's air conditioned place it was sweltering as Alex powered up her laptop. When she blinked, Markus' face was in front of her, or Grant's, or Nadia, making her heart race. If this was how bad it was while awake, she didn't want to know what it would be like if she let her subconscious take over. Alex had no regrets about what she did tonight, even if that girl would have been saved by Spider-Man and she wouldn't be able to sleep for a couple of nights. It wasn't as if she had been having restful nights anyway. At least that girl wouldn't be plagued by the same nightmares.

Social media held Alex's attention long enough for her to drink two bottles of water, but there were not a lot of people posting this late at night. Alex figured she was sober enough to comb the college library's articles on PTSD, memory coding, and anything else that had to do with memory alteration. It was something she had started back on the farm, after her parents banned her from leaving the house before five in the morning. She knew that it was ridiculous, pulling out her notebook and finding a blank page, but maybe she would be able to find a way to help James. A way to bring him back to her in a way they could both accept.

At five-thirty in the morning, all of Alex's study materials went flying as her alarm went off, scaring her. Instinct made her grab the laptop while everything else scattered onto the floor along with the four empty water bottles. After getting her heart rate to an acceptable level and checking to make sure her phone wasn't cracked, Alex turned off her alarm, put everything on the battered trunk that was her coffee table, and got changed to go running.

Last year, Alex had a set route that she would take every morning, but that had devolved into running as long as it would take for her to fall into a dreamless sleep for a couple hours. Between the sleep deprivation and possibly still being drunk, her pace was a lot slower than normal. It was almost seven when she dragged herself into the lobby of the apartment building, drenched in sweat and breathing like a woman in labor.

"Miss Harper," Henry called as Alex made her way toward the elevators, probably near the end of his shift. "There is a gentleman who has been waiting for you."

"Look what the cat dragged in," Alex smiled as she saw Sam Wilson sitting on the bench by the door. "When did you get back into the country?"

"About three hours ago." Sam said with a smile before gathering her into a tight hug, ignoring that she was literally dripping sweat. "I was jet-lagged and knew you were back in the city, so I figured I could take you to breakfast. You look like hell, by the way. How long were you running?"

"Too long," Henry said from behind the newspaper he was reading.

Sam gave Alex a look, but she waved away his concern as they walked to the elevators. Communication between her and Sam, much like with everyone else, had been sporadic over the summer. In this case, it wasn't just her fault as Steve dragged Sam's all over God's green earth in search of James and on other secret missions. Still, she had missed him and the calming presence he surrounded her with. There wasn't even any anxiety for her to get onto the elevator with Sam around.

"Now," Sam said as they rode up to her floor, "I got here at six-thirty and it's almost seven now. If I remember correctly, your alarm goes off at five-thirty. It's not an unheard of amount of time to run, but I have the feeling you aren't doing it for the health benefits."

"Sam, I haven't seen you in months. Can you not nag me within the first ten minutes?" Alex laughed as she unlocked her apartment door and let him inside.

"I'm not nagging, I'm concerned. There's a difference." Sam put his hand on Alex's shoulder to stop her forward momentum. "You aren't sleeping again, it's obvious, so I have a right to be concerned."

"I'm managing Sam, promise." Alex let his hand stay on her shoulder for a moment, letting him know that she appreciated his concern, before shaking it off and going to grab two bottles of water.

"The deep purple bags under your eyes tell a different story, as does your apartment." Sam looked at the laptop and notebook on the coffee table while making his circuit around the apartment.

"I went out clubbing last night, if you must know." Alex threw the second bottle of water at him, wondering if he was looking for new places to hide listening devices.

"I didn't get in until three. That didn't leave a lot of time for sleep."

"The red little sparkly number on the floor did catch my eye," Sam caught the bottle easily and took a sip. "I bet it caught a lot of other eyes last night too. Any reason you didn't bring a pair of those eyes home?"

"Who says I didn't?" Alex laughed as she picked up the dress and dumped it into the hamper in her closet and tried to figure out what to wear for breakfast.

"The same way I know you didn't sleep last night," Sam dropped down onto the couch and put his feet up onto the trunk.

"I could have made the bed before I went for my run this morning," Alex countered, but she knew Sam wasn't going to buy it.

"And you kicked the poor bastard out of bed at five-thirty in the morning to run? Either he was horrible in bed or you're a cold-hearted bitch." Sam smiled wide to show he was joking before he became serious again. "Alexandra, really, are you doing alright?"

Sam had become her makeshift therapist last year, as well as her roommate at times. Part of the reason that happened was because Steve needed Sam in New York, but didn't have anywhere to live. The other reason was Alex needed him. Who else was she going to talk to about superheroes, mythical assassins, and alien artifacts? She didn't tell him everything, James was a subject that was barely touched on, but there was no one else that would believe any of it. When Alex woke up screaming from her nightmares of assassins and blood, Sam would drag himself off her couch and they would sit up doing puzzles all night. He wouldn't ask her about the dreams, but he would talk to her about them if she brought them up. Usually they just sat there, looking where to put each piece, and complaining about the infomercials.

"Samuel, seriously," Alex sighed, but decided to tell him the truth. "I'm still having nightmares, but they aren't as bad as they used to be."

"You told me over the summer that they were almost gone," Sam huffed.

"It wasn't a complete lie. They really weren't as bad while I was on the farm, but they have gotten worse since I moved back. I didn't want to bother you," Alex added quickly when she saw him start to open his mouth. "I'm handling it."

"Your hour and a half run after not sleeping proved that you're completely and totally well adjusted." Sam shook his head. "If you think we aren't going to discuss this in depth, you really are out of your damn mind."

"If you think you're going to badger me about this without breakfast, you really are out of your damn mind," Alex countered. "If I have to face the inquisition, I at least want to have a last meal."

"You are looking a little pale under that tan, food will probably do you good." Sam waved his hand, almost splashing water onto the floor. "However, I'm not going anywhere while you smell like a locker room."

"Your concern is so touching." Alex rolled her eyes before disappearing into the bathroom.

Luckily, Alex had shaved before going out the night before, but she stayed under the hot water a little longer than necessary. It was hard to tell if she felt like shit because of the hangover, exhaustion, or knowing that whatever Sam brought up over breakfast was not going to be a fun conversation. However, she needed to seem put together or Sam would be camping out on her couch again and Steve would be kicking down her door.

After the shower, Alex tugged on the sundress she just grabbed out of her closet. It wasn't until she was pulling her hair into a bun that she realized it was the sky blue dress James had bought for her at a thrift shop. The price tag was still attached to the hem. She had never worn it even though he insisted it would look good on her. He was right.

"There is this novel notion call privacy. Ever heard of it?" Alex asked as she walked out to see Sam flipping through her notebook. She had put enough concealer under her eyes to cover the bags as well as blue eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and a few rings. As always, her grandfather's dog tags lay against her chest.

"There's no such thing as privacy between friends." Sam snapped the notebook closed. "This is pretty heavy stuff. Neuroscience, neuronal anatomy, memory coding…"

"Is there a question in there somewhere?" Alex slipped on a pair of white flip-flops.

"You're a biochemist. What's with all this shit?" Sam dropped the notebook and rolled his shoulders.

"Sam, you already know why I'm looking into it. Don't insult either of us by pretending that you don't." Alex transferred what she needed from the clutch last night and into a white purse.

"Well, I have to be honest, the new ink was a tip off," Sam sighed. "What does it say anyway?"

"Trouble never comes alone,' there's a red star underneath the letters." There was silence in the studio apartment after that. She could feel the disapproval radiating off Sam.

"That's a good phrase for you to have, that's for sure. You're the definition of trouble. Alex," Sam said as they walked to the door, making her look at him. "I don't want you to drive yourself crazy trying to save Bucky. You're too smart and I can only keep one stupid blonde sane at a time. Leave finding him to me and Steve."

"I have to do something, Sam," Alex focused on locking on the apartment and not at him. "I can't just pretend that he didn't exist, believe me I tried. I spent all summer trying to forget him and that lead me to hallucinate him in my room one night. Ignoring him wasn't working, so I started to do research instead. It helps."

"Hallucinations?" Sam pursed his lips.

"Hallucination, singular, and I didn't want to worry you or Steve. And don't try to tell me you wouldn't have told Steve," Alex got herself to smile at him. "It was at the beginning of the summer. I promise it hasn't happened since, just run of the mill nightmares."

"How do I get myself mixed up with you people?" Sam sighed.

"You people?" Alex laughed as they waited for the elevator again.

"Individuals with no self-preservation skills, too smart for their own good, and can't let anything or anyone go," Sam winked at her as they walked across the elevator.

"Funny, that sounds like the best kind of friend, if you ask me," Alex smiled as they slid sunglasses on as they walked outside. "So where are you taking me for breakfast?"

"Don't worry, I think you're going to like it." Sam smiled as he hailed them both a cab.

"A.J. Where the hell have you been?" Crystal asked as she enveloped Alex in a hug as they entered Malone's restaurant.

"I went home for the summer and just got back on Sunday," Alex explained when they let go of one another, looking around her former place of employment. Malone's restaurant was a former bar and reported Speakeasy and still kept all that charm with exposed brick walls, dark wooden floor and bar, and subway tiles on the wall separating the kitchen from restaurant proper. It was a long and narrow restaurant that was usually packed with families, business people, and the odd teenager that really wanted homemade French fries. Since it was a Saturday morning, almost every table was full, but they were early enough that there wasn't a wait.

Crystal had worked at the restaurant since it opened and was basically the vodka aunt to the rest of the waitresses. While Mrs. Malone had a habit of babying the employees, Crystal wanted to know what debauchery they got up to on the weekend. Alex rarely worked with her as she was on the day shift during the week, but when Alex picked up Sunday mornings they always had a good time.

"You're going to have to answer to the boss. She's going to be in pretty soon," Crystal said gravely as she led Alex and Sam to a booth in the back.

"The boss?" Sam was confused. He had met Mrs. Malone and she wasn't the sort to yell at anyone, let alone Alex. She was more the type to cry on Alex's shoulder and tell her how worried she had been.

"Oh, she's a tyrant." Crystal handed Sam his menu before turning her back and winking at Alex as she walked off.

Alex turned to look at the booth and saw that there was already someone sitting in the corner. While she turned to call Crystal back, Sam slid into the booth next to the mystery man as if there wasn't an issue with a random man being there. A longer look at the other man and Alex sighed, recognizing the hunched broad shoulders and bits of blonde hair that was peeking out beneath the blue baseball cap.

"Sam, why do you hate me?" Alex moaned as she dropped into the booth. She had only been joking about the inquisition earlier, but now it seems as if she actually was going to be interrogated.

"It's nice to see you too Alex," Steve laughed as he put the menu down and looked at her.

"Hello Steve." Alex looked at the two smiling faces across from her. It was difficult for her to stay mad at them, which made her even more aggravated. "So tell us about your summer, other than the nightmares." Sam sat his menu down to focus on Alex. "I just can't imagine you toiling in the field, a piece of straw in your mouth and a cowboy hat on."

"I'm from Kansas, not Texas, thank you very much. We're more trucker hat people." Alex laughed as she attempted not to look at Steve. "The summer was just a couple slow months in the sun. I helped my father out in the fields, cleaned up the classroom for my mom when the year was over, ran around with my dogs, Hunter and Cooper, swam in the creek, and worked on my tan."

"I noticed the tan. That sounds like a busy schedule to fit a hallucination into," Sam leaned back, throwing his arm over the back of the booth.

"Hallucination?" Steve looked up, his eyes darting from Sam and back to Alex from underneath his baseball hat. She used to think that it was ridiculous that he thought a simple hat would disguise the near perfect physical body underneath it, but she hadn't known it was him just moments before.

"Well, I wasn't sleeping that much, so I had time to squeeze it in," Alex ignored Steve and looked right at Sam. "For the first couple weeks I was on the farm, I didn't do anything except run. I was restless and I couldn't sleep, so I just ran for miles. My memory was spotty, due to the lack of sleep, and I felt like hell physically and mentally."

"You don't say," Sam huffed, shaking his head.

"What was the hallucination of?" Steve set the menu down and his blue eyes bore into Alex, which she continued to ignore as Crystal came and took the orders.

"The hallucination happened at the end of May, I hadn't put my air conditioner in the window yet and it was the first super warm night of the year. I couldn't get comfortable and I was worried about the nightmares, so I was only dozing. I heard the floorboard by the stairs squeak, I sat up and…" Alex trailed off and shook her head.

"You saw Bucky," Steve filled in, his voice sounding sad under the matter-of-fact tone. Alex nodded, playing with the menu to not look at him. If she saw pity in his eyes, she'd either cry or want to punch him.

"Anyway, the next morning I went for a much shorter run, started working with my father in the fields, and my mom taught me how to cook. It was this sort of schedule for myself. Nightmares became more manageable, sometimes going a week without one, and I could function," Alex finished quickly, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"You didn't tell me any of this because you didn't want me to worry or lecture you, but I don't remember asking you to explain the hallucination," Sam laughed, but there was concern written all over his face.

"No, but Steve was practically foaming at the mouth to be told what was going on, so I figured I wouldn't beat around the bush," Alex smiled. "Besides, I know you were dying to ask."

Crystal showed up with coffee and orange juice for everyone, once again looking at Steve and Sam before raising an eyebrow to Alex. That was going to be a conversation she really didn't want to have, who the two attractive men were and which one was Alex sleeping with. There were worse things in the world than being surrounded by attractive men, but having to explain that she wasn't sleeping with any of them was getting old.

"A.J.!" A voice screeched at the top of its lungs.

Both Sam and Steve tensed at the voice, immediately trying to find the source. Alex only had enough time to turn in the seat before Sandy Malone was launching into her arms. The ten year old threw her arms around Alex's neck, almost choking her, as the older girl held her tightly. Sandy smelled like strawberries, which lead Alex to have a sneaking suspicion that there was now jam in her hair.

"Sandy, I've missed you so much!" Alex kissed Sandy's cheek, smiling like an idiot. "How was your summer? Are you ready for school?"

"Where have you been? We were supposed to go and get ice cream this summer, and go to the zoo, and have water balloon fights, and walk in the park." Sandy talked over Alex as she pulled back and pouted at the older girl, completely ignoring Sam and Steve.

"I'm sorry, love. I had to go home for the summer," Alex explained as she pulled lightly on Sandy's braid. "I'm sure that you had a great time without me. Your mom texted me pictures of you going to the Boardwalk and when you went to get your face painted."

"It would have been better if you were there." Sandy's pout did not lessen. "And my new babysitter is awful. We don't have any fun and she doesn't make the vegetables like you do. Please tell me you are coming back."

"Honey, I got a new apartment and job." Alex felt like the worst person in the entire world as Sandy gave her big brown puppy dog eyes. "But we can spend some weekends together and there is still time to go to the zoo. Maybe this weekend or the one after?"

Sandy pouted for a few more beats, playing with the Alex's dog tags while she contemplated the proposal. Sam and Steve were watching the whole interaction with interest, but didn't say anything as they sipped their coffee. When Alex looked over at them, Sam gave her one of those infuriating smiles that let her know she would get no help from him.

"You have to buy me ice cream?" Sandy's voice was still petulant.

"I think I can manage that. Am I forgiven now?" Alex matched Sandy's pout with one of her own.

Sandy waited one more moment before hugging her tightly and laughing. Alex tipped her over so that she was against the red booth seat as she started tickling her. This continued until the girl was squealing and drawing the attention of the other customers. Alex quieted them both down, but couldn't stop laughing all together. Sandy was a literal ray of sunshine.

"I can see what the waitress meant about her being a tyrant," Sam smiled now that the negotiations were over.

"Oh, she's a monster," Alex agreed before leaning over and kissing Sandy on the cheek, leaving a lipstick print on her other cheek. "Now, tell me about school. Fourth grade is scary business."

"It's not that scary. Miss Killian seems nice enough, but I need a lot of things before starting this year. I just bought this while backpack with dinosaurs on it and a Captain America lunch box." Sandy explained rapidly, bouncing in the seat, as Steve coughed up some of his coffee. "You should get one too, A.J. for your new job." "You really should get that lunchbox, especially with your new job" Sam said with a bright smile.

Alex gave him a look, but he didn't say anything else as Sandy continued to prattle about the upcoming school and karate classes. Finally, she looked over at Steve. He was giving a soft smile to Sandy before he met Alex's eye. He looked exhausted, she could see that he was barely keeping his eyes open, and she worried about him a little. Super soldier or not, he was not immortal. Then again, he probably felt the same way about her.

"Sandy, honey, take a breath," Crystal laughed when she came back to the table to top up the coffee mugs. "Have you even said hello to Alex's new boyfriend and his friend?"

"Oh, I'm not-" Steve started, but Sandy cut him off.

"He's not her boyfriend. She's dating that black haired guy with the long hair and the nice smile. Where's he?" Sandy corrected Crystal, turning to Alex with the question.

"Well, excuse me," Crystal said as she took out her pad to write the food orders down before anyone could say anything. "Though, I should have known you weren't dating either of them. They look too upstanding for the type of guys you usually pull anyway."

"Ha, ha, ha. I'll have the breakfast special, extra bacon." Alex handed the menu over as she looked at Steve. Why had he felt necessary to say they weren't dating while Sam didn't?

It wasn't like Crystal was lying about Alex's past relationship. Sam and Steve were on a totally different stratosphere than all the men she had dated. There would never be anything romantic between Alex and Sam, they just didn't click that way, even though Sam was very attractive. Sam was like her brother. Actually, she liked him more than her brother most days. Steve…well, Steve was Steve.

"I'll have the three egg breakfast," Sam gave Crystal a wink along with his order and menu. Crystal winked back as she finished writing up that order.

"I'll take the all American, thank you." Steve looked into the coffee cup, thinking that was going to stop him from being recognized.

"Where is your boyfriend? Did you have a fight? Is that why you went back to the farm?" Sandy asked Alex, tugging at her hand when she hadn't answered the question the first time it was asked.

"We didn't have a fight. He just…he had to leave." Alex prayed that she wouldn't ask any more questions. Steve was already going to interrogate her about James being referred to as her boyfriend. He had no idea how often they had been together, but now he knew they went to breakfast at least one morning.

Sandy had met James only once, but he had obviously left an impression. Nothing Alex could say would make any sense to Sandy. She still believed in fairy tales and happy endings and had parents to prove that it did happen. Alex envied that optimistic view of life a little. Still, the little girl was waiting for Alex to say more.

"So, this is where you ran off to," Mr. Malone said as he walked over to the table, much to Alex's relief. "At least you were accosting someone that is used to it. Hey, A.J. how was your summer? Who are your friends?"

"You remember Sam, Mr. Malone. This is Steve, another friend of mine." Alex motioned her hand to indicate each man. "My summer was good, lots of sun. Looks like you had an eventful summer as well. How'd you break your arm?"

"Apparently there is an age limit on trampolines," Mr. Malone laughed as he slide into the booth so that Sandy was squished between him and Alex. "It's good to see you again, Sam. Steve, it's a pleasure."

"What were you doing on a trampoline? Where the he-, I mean, where did you find room in your yard for a trampoline?" Alex laughed as she scooted closer to the wall to attempt give everyone a little more room. The Malone's had a little place in Queens with a minuscule back yard that would hardly hold a soccer net let alone a trampoline.

"My friend Trinity has one and we went to their place for a barbeque. Dad said that he could do a backflip," Sandy explained, giggling the whole time.

"I did do the backflip," Mr. Malone straightened up and tried to look offended before smiling wide. "I just happened to land on the grass instead of the trampoline."

"Is Trinity going to be in your class?" Alex asked, directing the conversation back to Sandy. The young girl talked almost nonstop, which meant that Steve and Sam couldn't interrogate Alex, Mr. Malone getting a comment in here and there. The men listened to the whole thing good naturedly, not interrupting the flowing commentary.

"Well, that looks like their food, kid." Mr. Malone slid out of the booth. "Come on, we've taken up enough of their time."

"Alex promised to take me to the zoo." Sandy didn't budge from the seat, eyes focused on Alex.

"I did and we will." Alex grabbed Sandy and pressed her into a fierce hug. If there was one thing she had learned, it was to not attempt to out stubborn Sandy Malone. Someone usually ended up crying and it wasn't always Sandy. Besides, she really did want to take her to the zoo.

"You've got karate tomorrow, kiddo. Next weekend should work though," Mr. Malone said as Crystal placed plates down on the table, shifting them around so they were in front of the right people.

"I'll text you and finalize everything later this week." Alex agreed.

This was good enough for Sandy, who stole a piece of bacon before sliding out of the seat. Everyone said goodbyes before tucking into their food. Alex knew it was only a matter of time before one of them started to ask her questions. She could feel his eyes on her now and again, but wasn't going to give in. If they wanted to know something they were going to have to ask.

"Dark haired boyfriend?" Steve asked while he buttered toast.

"She's a child and I brought James here for breakfast once," Alex waved her fork before stabbing a home fry.

"That leads me to one of your more recent bad decisions. It's the reason we stopped back in the first place." Sam reached into his back pocket and pulled out a newspaper. The Daily Bugle met her eyes in bold black type, underneath was written 'Spider-Man at it again. When will this menace cease?'

"I feel like your bad choice in newspapers should be the real topic of this conversation," Alex smiled a little at the memory of the smart-ass in spandex she met the night before. "What does a vigilante have to do with me? Besides, I thought you superhero types had an all for one, one for all mentality."

"Flip it over," Sam motioned with his fork.

Alex shook her head, but did as she was told. There was a photograph underneath the fold, Spider-Man fighting the dark-hair bastard in the alley. The flash of the camera had caught the sparkles of the red dress and earrings of a woman standing in the bottom left corner of the picture. A blonde woman in six-inch heels.

"I was really hoping that it wasn't you. But then I saw that stunning dress on your floor this morning," Sam said around a forkful of food. "Those earrings were a poor choice, they really picked up the flash of the camera."

"That bastard." Alex scanned the picture to see who had gotten credit for the photo. However, the ink had been smeared from the being folded in Sam's pocket, obliterating the name. There was only one person who could have taken this picture, Spider-Man, but why did he sell pictures to the paper that basically called for him to be drawn and quartered daily? It didn't make any sense.

"So, when you said that you had nothing to tell me…" Sam asked over the top of his coffee cup.

"It was nothing, I swear." Alex looked between Steve and Sam, neither of them believing her. "Alright, those three idiots drugged a girl. I went out to make sure that she was okay, that she got into a cab, and got into a little skirmish in the alley. See, nothing crazy here in New York City."

"I'm starting to worry about you meeting with men in back alleys that have superpowers," Steve shook his head as he leaned back against the booth with a sigh.

"Alexandra, what were you thinking? What's going on with you?"

"Not a damn thing, Steven, and don't call me Alexandra." Alex glared at him before she stabbed viciously at the last bit of food on her plate. She knew that she was cranky because of her lack of sleep, but he was still getting on her last nerve. Deep down, she adored Steve, but right now she wasn't really feeling that way.

"So, how 'bout those Yankees?" Sam said after a couple minutes, giving Alex a small smile to show that they were dropping the subject.

"I hate the Yankees," Alex gave him an answering smile before looking at Steve. They stared at one another for a long moment, before he sighed and dropped his head, a small smile on his lips. This conversation wasn't over, just put on hold right now.

The rest of the meal was chatting about the upcoming semester and Alex's new internship. Sam knew that she was going to be working at Stark Tower, Steve had told him, but neither of them had the specifics. When they were done eating, Steve paid for everything. Alex didn't even protest as they had ambushed her.

"So, what about your work out of the country?" Alex asked as they walked back out into the hot morning. "Anything I should know about that?"

"You don't need to know anything about that, especially of the nightmares are back," Sam gave her a pointed look before slipping on his sunglasses.

"But you're going to tell me anyway because you like me and know I'll hound you until someone tells me something." Alex fluttered her eyelashes at him while they stopped on the sidewalk.

"Sam," Steve said when he opened his mouth to give her a smart replay. "I'll take Alex home. You go and get some sleep."

"You look like you need it more than he does," Alex pointed out, anxious about what Steve would want to tell her in private.

Sam and Steve had a silent conversation between themselves before Sam relented. Alex felt her stomach do another somersault. What if the reason Steve looked like he had been run over by a truck was because they knew exactly where James was? What if he was dead? What if he had been taken by Hydra again and was once again on ice or assassinating people? Alex couldn't figure out which of those scenarios would be the worst.

"Hey," Sam walked over and wrapped Alex in a tight hug, almost pull her off her feet. "Don't look so heartbroken about me leaving."

"Is he dead?" Alex whispered into Sam's ear, her voice cracking a little.

"Not as far as I know," Sam rubbed her back with a little laugh "So please take a deep breath."

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" Alex laughed as she let go of him and did what he asked.

"Scout's honor I told you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." He rubbed her back for another moment, making sure that she wasn't going to cry. "Now, if that little girl gets a kiss and I don't, I'm going to be heartbroken."

Alex laughed when he said that, reapplied her bright red lipstick, and gave him a sound kiss of the cheek. It did not show up as brilliantly on his dark skin as it did on Sandy's cheek, but it was clearly outlined.

"You have my number if you need anything," Sam said before he hailed a cab.

Alex waited until he disappeared into the bright yellow car before turning to look at Steve. He was leaning against the wall, looking at her a little wearily. Even with Sam's reassurance, she had a feeling that this wasn't going to be a comfortable conversation.

[sampsonbloor]

Only the little scribe Missandei seemed to share the queen’s misgivings.

Only the little scribe Missandei seemed to share the queen’s misgivings.. Her coming is the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy. From smoke and salt was she born to make the world anew. They were closely united by love and years of habit. The hull was creaking, the deck moving, and Pretty was squealing in distress. Penny crawled across the cabin floor on her hands and knees, wrapped her arms around the sow’s head, and murmured reassurance to her. Nikolay Sergeyitch was delighted. The prince’s successes, the news of his advancement, his promotion,

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were as dear to his heart as if they had been those of his own brother. But his delight reached a climax when the prince on one occasion showed the extraordinary trust he put in him. The lady said it was supposed it had been set

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on fire. “What could be any one’s motive for setting it on fire?” said the writer.. And how he praised you! I told you so . Even Dagon could not do that.” Almost a hundred years had passed since Dagon Greyjoy sat the Seastone Chair, but the ironborn still told tales of his raids and battles. 8. The old statute of 1741 had some features still more edifying. And I’d scarcely thought it when I looked round and off she’d gone, yesterday. You heard how I beat her for it riduzione dvi hdmi amazon yesterday, good friends. He was quite thin with anxiety; he sat by Nellie’s bedside for days and calça kickboxingeven nights together. So late.”. Have you grown tired of my hospitality so soon?” That was when Kyra seized a stone and threw it at his head. It missed by a good foot, and Ramsay smiled. In the fall of the year, the plantation hands, both men and women, work all the time above their knees in water in the rice-ditches, pulling out the grass, to fit the ground for sowing the rice. And just as I was, without my hat, I ran after the old man, I wanted to escort him to the gate, and to say at least a few words to comfort him. As I ran down the staircase I was haunted by Nellie’s face, which had turned terribly white at my reproaches... In his treatment of his slaves, he errs on the side of lenity, rather than vigor; and is always their kind protector, from a natural impulse of goodness, without much reflection upon what may befall them when death or misfortune shall deprive them of his friendship.. What happened to her wasn’t.” In some versions of the song, her ghost still walked the Nightfort. “I’ll send the girls to Long Barrow.” The only men there were Iron Emmett and Dolorous Edd, both of whom he trusted. This was going to be a hellishly uncomfortable night. The first of many, I do not doubt.. The small, sure-footed garrons of the hill clans were faring better, the scouts said,

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but the clansmen dared not press too far ahead or the whole host would come apart. I feel frightened at what you say. And yet you’re here. Delivered to me by the storms.”. Hear the apostle enumerate them: “By pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left.”. They hung upon the walls, before her and behind her, high and low,

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everywhere she looked, everywhere she turned. She saw old faces and young faces, pale faces and dark faces, smooth faces and wrinkled faces, freckled faces and scarred faces, handsome faces and homely faces, men duci alkalmi ruha and women, boys and girls, even babes, smiling faces, frowning faces, faces full of greed and rage and lust, bald faces and faces bristling with hair. His brow was dotted with beads of sweat, his pig’s eyes shining above his fat cheeks. Ser Barristan took two of his new-made knights with him down into the dungeons. Grief and guilt had been known to drive good men into madness, and Archibald Yronwood and Gerris Drinkwater had both played roles in their friend’s demise. From time catalog cercei aur turciato time some wench escapes and lives to tell the tale. Here I was wondering what to do, and he has sent me foes to fight.” Asha got to her feet and slammed her knife back into its sheath. “The battle’s come to us.”. He stood by that pier-glass and leaned his elbow against it. And Joubert screamed at him in her own way,

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that the pier-glass cost seven hundred francs (that is four hundred roubles), and that he’d break it! He grinned and looked at me. And I was sitting on a sofa opposite, and a beauty beside me, not a mug like this one here, but a stunner, that’s the only word for it. I shall tell Anna Andreyevna what a state you’re in. Here fresh oysters could be bought, here iron chains and manacles, here cyvasse pieces carved of ivory and jade. Here were temples too, where sailors came to sacrifice to foreign gods, cheek by jowl with pillow houses where women called down from balconies to men below. Most of the 7.8 million vehicles are subject to existing recalls. But manufacturers have limited the recalls to high humidity areas, excluding cars and trucks in states to the north. Virgin Islands, Hawaii and "limited areas near the Gulf of Mexico in Texas, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, and Louisiana" should pay

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special attention to the warning.. I offer it to you as a sign of my good faith.” He gestured at the chair again. “Sit, and say what you came to say. An old man in gold spectacles came up and heard me ask for the silver rouble. The Freys, assembling for battle. Theon could feel an itching in his missing fingers.. But many of them are doing just what the hardest-hearted tyrants of the South most desire.

[virginiaharris]

Love Wins

A dear friend of mine, Mack McCarter, is a present-day model of the Good Samaritan. Many years ago, Mack cherished a mission that inspired a practical way to restore safe neighborhoods, decrease crime and build city-wide embraces of citizen support. Mack planted his early idea, called Community Renewal International, in Shreveport, Louisiana. Now, with the positive proof of good heart and committed action, Community Renewal has been replicated in several cities in the US and internationally. As you can imagine, going to battle to defeat “...whatever is wrong in social, civil, criminal, political, and religious codes...” (Mary Baker Eddy, “Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures”), the mission of Community Renewal requires constant vigilance and defense of the spiritual focus. Recently, Mack’s Shreveport community was shaken by the death of one of their cherished family members. The message below communicates how Mack helped the Community Renewal family focus on the reality and spiritual power of Love to heal.

We cannot expect to avoid the trials in this life experience that serve to plant our feet more firmly and certainly in the truth of real being. The simplicity and clarity of Mack’s message is a beautiful reminder that, no matter what is the mortal picture, the spiritual power of good - and the effective Samaritan’s work - is being done and will be victorious!

A message from Mack McCarter, Founder of Community Renewal International:

A Shreveport Police report, describing a tragic scene, does not tell the inspiring life story of resilience of the young woman, Hannah Sheffield. It is her life, not the circumstances of her death, that must be acknowledged and honored.

“Somewhere in or around 8:30pm on Saturday, April 10th, one Hannah Sheffield, upon turning into the Barksdale Annex Neighborhood from McElroy Street onto Evans Street was shot by a single round piercing the automobile’s driver door and entering into the victim’s upper left torso piercing her heart. Miss Sheffield, age 29, expiring, crashed her car into the bedroom of a neighbor’s house.”

Later information quickly came that would confirm a tragic case of mistaken identity in a revenge shooting where the unknown assailant knew that his intended target drove a white car matching Hannah’s. So he shot at the car - and it was a direct hit to the soul of Community Renewal.

That shot makes us ask anew the two fundamental questions that simultaneously anchor us and inspire us in the living of these days:

Does Love really work? Does Love really win? Really!?

What in the world are we up against? We are living in a sand storm and a blizzard combined with a tornado inside of a hurricane, and we have run out of alphabetical letters to name it. Do we just shrug and call it, “Today’s World,” really?

Imagine that one bullet was a .45 caliber round. That one bullet cost a total of 80 cents. Eighty cents. “Today’s World.” That seems to be the reality in which we live. But it is not the solo story of Reality Itself. There is something incontrovertibly more. And to enter through the door to that Reality we must remember.

I remember nineteen years ago, when Lonzo and Tina Sheffield, led by our brother Russell Minor, our Haven House Director, walked into our lives. They were Russell’s neighbors and he knew they were powerful personalities who so embodied the love of God that they could light up the dark side of “Today’s World.” Tina was just out from the Air Force and Lonzo was still active. Both sergeants. And both magnificent servant-leaders. They joined us on the spot to be Friendship House Leaders. And with our other Friendship House leader, the incomparable Manuela Standard and her husband James, they covenanted together to move into the Barksdale Annex neighborhood. (I had asked the Mayor of Bossier City, “Where do you want us, Mayor Dement? Because we are coming to serve!” His answer, “I want Community Renewal in Barksdale Annex. It is our most dangerous neighborhood.”)

I remember eighteen years ago, when Tina was standing in our newly constructed Friendship House’s “Community Room.” She was in a lake of shattered glass from shot out windows with TV cameras blazing away, being asked a simple question by a flummoxed reporter. “Why are you coming here? It is the most dangerous place in Bossier City! And last night a gang shot out all of your windows! It is not safe!!! (”Today’s World!”)

I remember that I was standing behind all of the cameras’ piercing stare, wondering, “What will Tina answer?” And Tina, without even a hitch in her speech, launched Light within lightning: “Not safe? Well, THAT is why we are coming! If it was safe, they wouldn’t NEED us!!” Even the cameras themselves blinked. Lest I ever forget, that is the New Tomorrow lighting a new Reality of God’s Love in the “Today’s World.” It is brought by human beings like you and me who are committed to Love because God first loved us!

I remember when Hannah first moved in to live in the Friendship House with Lonzo and Tina. Her biological mother tried to convince them that this pre-teen was essentially a cipher. I remember meeting her then. Downcast gaze, no smile, and so beat down she could only just breathe much less exclaim. The forecast for her future life was a wall with no windows or doors. She will never roller skate. She will never play basketball. She will never read. She will never be a cheerleader. She will never graduate. She will never be the Queen of anything. “Today’s World” with periods punctuating it.

And I remember 400 years before Jesus, God breathing the Word into the words of Isaiah the God-Speaker. Go read them right now in Isaiah 61:1-6. Because Lonzo and Tina and all of Community Renewal and her teachers and neighbors and new friends began to give her the “Crown of Beauty” instead of ashes, and the “Oil of Gladness” instead of mourning, and the “Garment of Praise” instead of despair. And she became an “Oak of Righteousness.”

Hannah blossomed in Love and flowered into the fruit of life, giving Love for all. She not only graduated, she went on to college, then post college. She became a consummate musician having to memorize the chords thus making her own life a musical. Her smile was like an LED flashed in every tooth.

In “Today’s World,” it looks like we are “sheep to be slaughtered.” But I remember that there is another Reality that is a Light coming into the darkness, and the darkness has never understood it! It is the Light of God’s Love in All of You. And that is the Hope of Glory.

And finally, I remember what John the Revelator showed us when he pulled back the curtain to reveal the ending of this great play of life. And we see a Lamb bleeding because of “Today’s World.” Yes, bleeding...but Seated On A Throne!!

Love DOES work!! And Love WILL Win! And that is why we are going forth. If “Today’s World” was safe, it wouldn’t need us! Right Tina? Right Lonzo? Right Hannah? And they answer with each of you, “RIGHT!!”

God bless you all!

[a-wlw-reads]

Hey tumblr so I need your help! My school always had one of those “Read Across America” maps with young adult novels or romances or whatever (evidently, I’m American) but I’ve never seen anything comparable for wlw. I’ve tried to rely on my memory and on other people’s recs but I’m only (exactly) halfway through. Any suggestions to fill in these missing states? I’ve tried to avoid stories that take place across multiple locations. Or offer more options for the ones I already have, the more the merrier.

Alabama : Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flag

Alaska : Grief Map by Sarah Hahn Campbell, The Dead Go to Seattle by Vivian Faith Prescott

Arizona : Bright Lights of Summer by Lynn Ames

Arkansas : Cottonmouths by Kelly J. Ford

California : Everything Leads to You by Nina LaCour, Honey Girl by Lisa Freeman, Frog Music by Emma Donoghue, The Necessary Hunger by Nina Revoyr, Gay L.A.: A History of Sexual Outlaws, Power Politics, and Lipstick Lesbians by Lillian Faderman and Stuart Timmons, Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde, The Brightsiders by Jen Wilde, Under the Lights by Dahlia Adler, Far From Home by Lorelie Brown, The Summer of Jordi Perez (And the Best Burger in Los Angeles) by Amy Spalding, You Know Me Well by Nina LaCour, Excavation by Wendy C. Ortiz, The IHOP Papers by Ali Liebegott, Soft on Soft by Em Ali, She Is Me by Cathleen Schine

Colorado : Marionette by T.B. Markinson, Sleight of Hand by Mark Henwick, Snow Falls by Gerri Hill, Sadie by Courtney Summers, Tell Me What You Like by Kate Allen

Connecticut : Pages for You by Sylvia Brownrigg, Patience & Sarah by Isabel Miller

Delaware : As I Lay Frying: A Rehoboth Beach Memoir by Fay Jacobs

Florida : Breathing Underwater by Lu Vickers, Roller Girl by Vanessa North, Down to the Bone by Mayra Lazara Dole

Georgia : Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit by Jaye Robin Brown, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, The Blue Place by Nicola Griffith, Taking Flight by Siera Maley, Honor Girl: A Graphic Memoir by Maggie Thrash, Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli, Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World by Ashley Herring Blake, Odd One Out by Nic Stone, The Cherokee Rose by Tiya Miles

Hawaii : Razor Wire by Lauren Gallagher, Name Me Nobody by Lois-Ann Yamanaka

Idaho : Ship It by Britta Lundin, Her Hometown Girl by Lorelie Brown, Right Out of Nowhere by Laurie Salzler, Idaho Code by Joan Opyr

Illinois : Coffee Will Make You Black by April Sinclair, How Sweet It Is by Melissa Brayden, What Matters Most by Georgia Beers, The Long Way Home by Rachel Spangler, Close to Home by Rachel Spangler, Memory Mambo by Achy Obejas, Things to Do When You’re Goth in the Country by Chavisa Woods

Indiana : Tessa Masterson Will Go to Prom by Emily Franklin and Brendan Halpin, Hoosier Daddy by Ann McMan and Salem West

Iowa : A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley, Moo by Jane Smiley, The Butches of Madison County by Ellen Orleans, Death by Discount by Mary Vermillion

Kansas : Far From Xanadu by Julie Anne Peters, My Almost Certainly Real Imaginary Jesus by Kelly Barth

Kentucky : Run by Kody Keplinger, Dress Codes for Small Towns by Courtney Stevens

Louisiana : Her Name in the Sky by Kelly Quindlen, Beauty and the Boss by Ali Vali, Rusty Logic by Robin Alexander, Spelling Mississippi by Marnie Woodrow, The Fact of a Body: A Murder and a Memoir by Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich

Maine : Style by Chelsea Cameron, Double Exposure by Chelsea Cameron, A Good Idea by Christina Moracho

Maryland : Cytherea’s Breath by Sarah Aldridge

Massachusetts : Mermaid in Chelsea Creek by Michelle Tea, Map of Ireland by Stephanie Grant, Heart of Brass by Morven Moeller, A Line in the Dark by Malinda Lo, P.S. I Miss You by Jen Petro-Roy, Hocus Pocus & The All-New Sequel by A.W. Jantha, Marriage of a Thousand Lies by AJ Sindu, Love & Other Carnivorous Plants by Florence Gonsalves, Marriage of Unconvenience by Chelsea M. Cameron, Cool for You by Eileen Myles

Michigan : The Liberators of Willow Run by Marianne K. Martin, Drum Roll, Please by Lisa Jenn Bigelow, The Cold and the Rust: Poems by Emily Van Kley, Her by Cherry Muhanji, Vanished by E.E. Cooper, Radical by E.M. Kokie

Minnesota : Sister Mischief by Laura Goode, Being Emily by Rachel Gold, My Year Zero by Rachel Gold, Bend by Nancy Hedin, Hallowed Murder by Ellen Hart

Mississippi : Ramona Blue by Julie Murphy

Missouri : Deliver Us from Evie by M.E. Kerr, Heart of the Game by Rachel Spangler, Jam on the Vine by LaShonda Katrice Barnett

Montana : The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M. Danforth, Innocent Hearts by Radclyffe, Storms by Gerri Hill

Nebraska : Not Otherwise Specified by Hannah Moskowitz, Over You by Amy Reed

Nevada : Not Your Sidekick by C.B. Lee, Desert of the Heart by Jane Rule, Bittersweet by Nevada Barr

New Hampshire : Good Moon Rising by Nancy Garden, Snowsisters by Tom Wilinsky and Jen Sternick

New Jersey : A Cup of Water Under My Bed by Daisy Hernández

New Mexico : Beauty of the Broken by Tawni Waters, So Far From God by Ana Castillo, The Last of the Menu Girls by Denise Chávez, Like Water by Rebecca Podos

New York : Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova, Annie On My Mind by Nancy Garden, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name by Audre Lorde, Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown, We Are Okay by Nina LaCour, Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg, Thaw by Elyse Springer, Eating Fire: My Life as a Lesbian Avenger by Kelly Cogswell, Rat Bohemia by Sarah Schulman, Tailor-Made by Yolanda Wallace, The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith, When Katie Met Cassidy by Camille Perri

North Carolina : The Ada Decades by Paula Martinac, Challah and Callaloo by La Toya Hankins

North Dakota : Prairie Silence: A Memoir by Melanie Hoffert

Ohio : Fat Angie by E.E. Charlton-Trujillo, Taking the Long Way by Lily R. Mason, The Last Place You Look by Kristen Lepionka, Eat Your Heart Out by Dayna Ingram, Juniper Lane by Kady Morrison

Oklahoma : Tumbleweed Fever by L.J. Maas, Edited Out by Lisa Haddock

Oregon : Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera, Forgive Me If I’ve Told You This Before by Karelia Stetz-Waters, Dryland by Sara Jaffee

Pennsylvania : Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, In the Silence by Jaimie Leigh McGovern, The Summer We Got Free by Mia McKenzie

Rhode Island : The Red Tree by Caitlín R. Kiernan, Homecoming by Nell Stark, Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult

South Carolina : The House You Pass on the Way by Jacqueline Woodson, Two or Three Things I Know for Sure by Dorothy Allison, The Revolution of Little Girls by Blanche McCrary Boyd

South Dakota : Charity by Paulette Callen

Tennessee : Secret City by Julia Watts, If I Was Your Girl by Meredith Russo, South of Sunshine by Dana Elmendorf, Choices by Skyy, Like Me: Confessions of a Heartland Country Singer by Chely Wright

Texas : Forgetting the Alamo, Or, Blood Memory by Emma Pérez, Santa Olivia by Jacqueline Carey, The Unraveling of Mercy Louis by Keija Parssinen, Gulf Breeze by Gerri Hill, Gulf Dreams by Emma Pérez, Lay Down the Law by Carsen Taite, Far From the World We Know by Harper Bliss, Spinning by Tillie Walden, Mean Deaf Little Queer by Terry Galloway, The Dime by Kathleen Kent, Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home by Leah Lax

Utah : Saving Alex: When I Was Fifteen I Told My Mormon Parents I Was Gay, and That’s When My Nightmare Began by Alex Cooper

Vermont : Dismantled by Jennifer McMahon

Virginia : As I Descended by Robin Talley, Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley, Jericho by Ann McMan

Washington : The Edge of Nowhere by Elizabeth George, Dreadnought and Sovereign by April Daniels, About A Girl by Sarah McCarry, Karen Memory by Elizabeth Bear, The Cybernetic Tea Shop by Meredith Katz, Stuck Landing by Lauren Gallagher

Washington, D.C : Madam President by Blayne Cooper and T. Novan, Pulp by Robin Talley

West Virginia : The Winter Triangle by Nikki Woolfolk, Blue Apple Switchback by Carrie Highley, Sugar Run by Mesha Maren

Wisconsin :

Wyoming :

[peacefulheartfarm]

Sheep Breeding

Breeding sheep is one of the most enjoyable enterprises on our homestead. Sheep were the first animals we introduced back in 2010. They have been a central part of our operation since then. I’ll talk about that today.

Welcome new listeners and welcome back veteran homestead-loving regulars who stop by the FarmCast for every episode. Thank you all so much for listening. I’m so excited to share with you what’s going on at the farm this week.

Our Virginia Homestead Life Updates

Before we get to the sheep, what else is going on here on the homestead?

Creamery

The holes in the walls are still being filled in by Scott. Who knew it was going to take this much time to complete that task? Well, the building is rather large and parts of it are very high. That requires special ladders and scaffolding and such to be able to reach the tallest parts of the walls. Additionally, Scott is finishing the concrete block walls in such a way that they resemble stucco. It takes a bit more time and effort but the result is quite beautiful. I’m very pleased with the effect. I can’t wait to see it painted. Maybe a nice off-white stucco color to enhance the look. We shall see. I actually leave color decisions to Scott. I have no head for decorating. Thank God he has a wonderful head for it. Everything he builds reflects his eye for beauty, symmetry, style, color and so much more.

Quail

We now have seven breeding sets of quail. Count them, seven. We made a day of it. Somewhere along the line we lost one that I didn’t know about. The final count in the penthouse was 56 birds. We processed 32 of them and kept 24 additional birds for eggs.

Fowl or Foul?

After finishing the processing, we went back out to their cages and took every single bird out of their cages. Scott spent lots of time cleaning up those cages and getting them sanitized for the winter. Have you even wondered why birds are called fowl? Well there is another spelling of the word foul and it has to do with awful smells. I tend to think that this is why birds are referred to as fowl. All birds have to have their roosts, cages and runs cleaned regularly. Otherwise, they smell foul. Well, there is always some smell from time to time no matter what you do. Take that into consideration when planning the location of your chicken and/or quail homes.

Lighting

Another addition to the quail housing was adding lights. They will now have light for 14 hours a day. That is what is required for them to produce eggs. The new girls have yet to lay a single egg and the older hens, 15 of them, were down to producing no more than six to eight eggs per day. Even that would have dropped to zero or nearly zero in the near future. Inadequate amounts of light make feeding your birds through the winter counter-productive.

There is an automatic timer on the lights. It comes on at 4 am and will stay on until 6 pm. So even on a dreary day like today, they have plenty of light. We use bulbs that produce the “daylight” spectrum of light. It’s not quite the same as most grow lights. Well, I take that back. I think lots of grow lights are going to the daylight spectrum to more closely emulate growing plants outdoors. The same for the birds. We want them to have as natural a light as possible.

Egg Production

Because we have seven sets of breeders, that means there are 35 hens out there. If those lights work like we hope, we could potentially have 35 eggs per day in a couple of weeks. It will take at least a week and perhaps two for the light to affect their egg production. In addition to the light, they get lots of good nutrition and supplements to make sure they have everything they need to be healthy and productive.

Donkeys

I got to say hi to the donkeys a couple of times in the last few days. I haven’t been seeing too much of them as my homestead tasks have led me elsewhere. It’s so good to see them up close and personal. And they are personal. Donkeys love humans. They love human attention. And we love giving it to them. It won’t be long and they will be getting another bit of attention that is not so popular with them, but necessary. Hoof trimming.

Yes, they need to get their toenails done. Scott handles the nail salon and I just offer comfort while the uncomfortable deed is accomplished. All are getting more and more used to it. Daisy nearly falls asleep while it’s going on where Johnny and Cocoa still have some real fear issues with it. They are getting better each time. We shall see how it goes this time. Maybe they will have completely overcome their fear just like Daisy and Sweet Pea.

Cows and Calves

The cow girls are doing fantastic. Rosie has integrated well into the herd. She is low-man on the totem pole, as would be expected. But she is getting along with everyone and thriving in her new environment. Scott is training her and retraining Cloud to come into the milking shed and stick their heads into the milking stanchion. This is in preparation for the vet to do pregnancy checks on all of the girls. The milking stanchions are very convenient for restraining our girls in comfort while medical checks and treatments are performed. I think I’ll ask Scott about cutting off Rosie’s horns too. Once she is used to putting her head in the stanchion, we can easily saw off those horns of hers. It’s quick and painless but she will definitely need to be restrained for her safety and ours.

Calf Weaning

We are nearing the time when the calves will be completely weaned. A week or so ago, I stopped giving them their second bottle of whole milk in the evening. At the present time they get ½ gallon of whole milk only in the morning. In the evening they get ½ gallon of skim milk. As soon as my stores of skim milk run out, they will only get whole milk in the morning. That will last for a week or so and then no milk at all.

Drying up the Milk Cows

We are still milking the big girls twice a day but that is about to change. Their milk becomes less and less as the days go on, the longer they go into their milking cycle. The quality of the milk also changes as they get later into their lactation cycle. Soon it will be time to dry them up. That means we will go to only milking once a day, then once every other day and finally stopping altogether. More details on that in a later podcast. We will start that process in a week or so.

Garden and Fruits

We are still waiting on that first frost. The garden is still going. Scott said he thought that first frost might come in the next couple of days, as soon as the rain from the remnants of hurricane Zeta stops. I didn’t want the lima beans to be soaked at the same time I was forced to pick them before a frost. So I did what any other sane homesteader would do. I rushed out there this morning before the rain started and picked everything. Literally, I pulled up the plant, stripped the bean pods and piled the spent plants to the side. It only took a little while and I’m glad to get that part done. The pods were actually still wet from the last rain we had from the remnants of hurricane Delta. At least I think that one was as hurricane. I have the beans laid out on newspaper to dry.

Lots of Storms

Can you believe the number of named storms this year? I think this is the first time in my 65 years that we have gone completely through the alphabet and now five letters, so far, into the Greek alphabet. We still have another month to go in the official tropical storm/hurricane season. Eleven have hit the US coast as either a tropical storm or hurricane. Most were relatively small. Tropical storms or category one or two hurricanes. Laura was a category 4 hurricane. I believe six storms have hit the gulf coast, mostly Louisiana. Pray for them. Even category one and two hurricanes can bring lots of water damage and some wind damage.

Okay, that was a bit of a tangent. Back to the garden. I also picked a few tomatoes. I know, I know. I’m supposed to be done with the tomatoes. But there were a few that looked really good so I snagged them. I have quite a few avocadoes in the frig and some guacamole always sounds good to me. It will be missing that lovely fresh cilantro taste as all of those plants died, but we will make do somehow.

Peppers and Celery

A couple of days ago I picked peppers yet again. I have plenty of jalapeno for the guac. I have so many peppers in the refrigerator. I really, really need to get cracking on getting the pepper jam completed and drying the rest in the dehydrator.

Speaking of dehydrating. I grew all of that celery to be dried as well. That needs to be harvested but I wasn’t too worried about it being wet. The wetness will help keep it fresh as I work my way through the entire crop. Other things on the dehydrating list include, basil, parsley, oregano and thyme.

Grapes and Strawberries

Scott brought me a few grapes to try out. They are muscadine. We get a few more each year, but still not many to speak of at this point in their maturity. Soon, very soon, that will change. Looking forward to making grape jam and maybe some muscadine wine.  

The strawberries have survived the onslaught of weeds and are blooming once again. Those are tough little plants. I have a plan for them for next year. More on that later.

Sheep Breeding

Let’s talk about sheep breeding. A couple of days ago I was talking with Scott about the sheep breeding schedule and what we need to do to accomplish our goals. Well first was clarifying and getting on the same page with goals. We had already discussed this so it was a matter of recalling the final decision.

Ewe in Heat

A funny anecdote related to sheep breeding talk was the ewe that was eager to get started. Just about the time we were discussing our plan, this ewe was hanging out all by herself near the closet fence to the boys. She was really persistent. Number one, ewes nearly always stay together. Nobody goes off on her own. They are skittish and careful animals. But this young lady was actively looking for romance.

I walked almost right up to her before she moved away. I was walking down the travel lane on my way to bring up the cow girls for milking. And there she was, hanging out near the gate, mooning over the boys that she could see across the field, but could not get to. I walked up to her and she finally moved away a few feet. She walked along the lane for 20 feet or so, then she stopped and looked around at me to see if I was still coming. I was. She turned and went other 20 feet of so before stopping yet again, just to make sure I was still there and that it would be impossible for her to get around me. This ewe was really persistent. She continued this behavior all the way back to the main flock.

Persistent Ewe in Heat

She stayed with the rest of the flock while I rounded up the girls and began the trek back to the milking shed. About the time I got up to the holding area and closed the fence that keeps the cows in while they await their turn at milking, she was back down there at the corner mooning over the boys yet again. Don’t worry honey, you’ll get your chance in just a few more days the great switcheroo of animals will begin. The boys will stay with the girls for most of the winter. Sometime in late spring we will separate the boys again and put all of the girls back together. Then we await the most glorious event of spring. The birthing of lambs.

Which Ewes Will We Breed?

There are currently 12 ewes in the flock. We are going to breed four of them. These will be the four older ewes. That means we can expect up to eight lambs in the spring. We had ten last year, but that came about because we just bred all of them, young and old. A first-year ewe usually has a single lamb. And sometimes older ewes will have only one lamb as well. However, it is more common that the second year and each year thereafter, a ewe will have twins and sometimes triplets.

Last year, three of the older girls had twins, one older girl had a single, another older girl did not have one at all and all three of the young girls had singles. That was five older ewes. Since then we have eliminated the oldest ewe and will be going with the four ewes between three and five-years-old. This is the current makeup of our main breeder flock. The three younger ewes will not be bred again. The reason for that is Lambert, our new breeding ram, is a ½ sibling to two of them and full sibling to one of them. That simply won’t work if we want to maintain strong genetics.

What Will We Do?

In order to accomplish only breeding the four selected ewes, it means we need to bring them all in, separate the ones that will be bred from the rest of the flock and put these two groups into separate spaces. Then we bring up the boys and introduce them to the breeding ewes. We can put all of the boys in with the breeding girls because only one of them is still intact. That would be Lambert. He is our breeding ram. This will be his first season. I will pray that he does well. We could also put the boys other than Lambert in with the ewes that are not being bred this year. That would require a second routine to get Lambert separated from the other boys. Scott will make that call when we get to that point.

There are so many decisions that go into every activity on our homestead. Each one has pros and cons. Making the same decision one year may not be the same as the previous year. Circumstances are always changing. I was listening to Kanye West in his interview with Joe Rogan talking about how hard it is to farm. He is attempting to come up with better methods to provide good nutrition to the poorer population. Farming is so much more than putting some seeds in the ground and waiting for them to grow. The same with animals. It is so much more than just putting them out there in the pasture and watching them graze. Every decision is a well-thought-out plan to fulfill a current need. Those needs are always evolving. Some decisions turn out to be counterproductive. But there is always next year and new opportunities to improve.

Final Thoughts

That’s it for today’s podcast. I hope you enjoyed the trip around the homestead. It is always my pleasure to share our peace and joy with you. Perhaps you’ve gotten some new ideas on what to do for your own dreams and perhaps you just came along for the ride. In any case, we’ll keep you in the loop.

We are heading into late fall and winter. Likely I’ll slow down a little and perhaps only podcast a couple of times a month. The spring and summer are always so full. Slowing down for winter is just another way we work in harmony with nature.

If you enjoyed this podcast, please hop over to Apple Podcasts or whatever podcasting service you use, SUBSCRIBE and give me a 5-star rating and review. If you like this content and want to help out the show, the absolute best way you can do that is to share it with any friends or family who might be interested in this type of content. Let them know about the Peaceful Heart Farmcast.

Thank you so much for stopping by the homestead and until next time, may God fill your life with grace and peace.

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Check out this episode!

[astral-writings]

Dirty Laundry

Prompt: ‘Dirty Laundry by Carrie Underwood’; he cheats, and rather than sitting and crying about it, she gets a little revenge of her own Word Count: 1,422 Fandom: Marvel (Bucky) Note: Got this idea when I heard this song the other day, just getting around to it though lmao.

‘That lipstick on your collar, well, it ain't my shade of pink. And I can tell by the smell of that perfume, it's like forty dollars too cheap. And there's a little wine stain on the pocket of your white cotton thread. Well, you drink beer and whiskey, boy, and you know I don't drink red.’

I casually walked though the house, picking up the scattered clothes as I made my way into the bedroom. He could at least make it seem like he was aiming for the hamper. Sometimes I feel like if I wasn’t here, this whole house would be a mess. I adjusted the hamper that rested on my hip, not really wanting to do laundry. It was my turn this week since he was the one that did the laundry last week.

As I entered the bedroom, I set the hamper on the bed and began gathering the clothes. That is, until a spot on one of his collared shirts. He doesn’t wear these shirts very often, I’ve only seen him wear these on special occasions. Like Christmas, or something of the sort. My eyebrows furrowed together, my brain trying to recall the day that he wore this shirt. Unfortunately, the memory never came.

Maybe he came back and changed into it for a SHEILD thing or something, I don’t know. I was about to toss it into the hamper when an unfamiliar pink spot caught my eye. Lipstick? I inspected it further, discovering that my assumption was correct. What the hell? I don’t even wear this shade at all. My face contorted in a confused anger. I opened the shirt up, turning my attention from the collar to his pocket.

A red stain? What the hell is that? He certainly didn’t try too hard to cover this shit up. I brought the spot to my nose and sniffed it. My nose wrinkled as I recognized the smell, red wine. Neither of us drink red wine, ever. Is he cheating on me? What the hell else could it possibly be? My confusion melted away, leaving nothing but anger behind. I angrily threw the shirt onto the bed, a frustrated grunt leaving my lips.

‘Found it over in the corner, wadded up on the bedroom floor. You shoulda hid it in the closet, you shoulda burned it, you shoulda lost it.’

I leaned onto the edge of the bed, trying to think of how in the hell to deal with this situation. How the fuck do I even bring something like this up? I looked around the room, as if the solution would just fucking appear. I then noticed a crumpled piece of paper beside his bed, almost completely hidden under a red shirt. If I hadn’t been at this angle, I probably would’ve missed the thing. I slowly got up off the bed, and walked over to it.

I picked up the paper and opened it up. The paper itself was relatively small, but it had a huge impact on me. It said someone’s name, their number, and a lip print on the corner of it. Anger coursed through my veins as my hands recrumpled the paper. It took everything I had to not tear the damn thing into tiny little fucking pieces. Why the fuck would he keep something like this? Why not just throw it away, or something?

God, it’s like he didn’t even give a fuck if I found out or some shit. Maybe this has been going on for a while, and he just got a little too cocky. I think that would be the final knife in my damn back. Third time’s the charm, right? I huffed, my eyes landing on the shirt that I had thrown onto the bed. I could do so many things to that little weasel. I could make him regret ever meeting me. I could kill Bucky without it ever being traced back to me.

‘Now I'ma have to hang you out to dry. Clothespin all your secrets to the line, leave 'em blowing in the wind, just say goodbye to you. All those midnights sneaking in "I'm late again, oh, I'm so sorry," all the Ajax in the world ain't gonna clean your dirty laundry.’

At least now I know why the hell he was late so often, even when him and I had made plans together. Even though I could kill him without a trace, I think I’ll settle for something a little more theatrical. I swiped the shirt off of the bed as I left the room and headed for the kitchen. I looked under the sink, grabbing the little bit of rope that was there. I then looked through the drawers, settling on some binder clips instead of tape or clothespins.

I all but ran outside, not bothering to close the door behind me. I tied the rope to either ends of the two small pillars that were on the porch. I put a few clips in my mouth, the crumpled paper still in one of my hands. I pinned the shirt onto the rope, making sure that nothing was obstructing it’s view. I then pinned the paper to the line, that should send the message. It’ll send one to everyone else too, and by god I hope that they spread rumors about him.

Just in case he doesn’t get the message, maybe I should further my point. I turned on my heels, storming into the bedroom and gathering as much of his clothes as I could. I ran out to the porch and threw them on the lawn. I think his wardrobe looks much nicer on the grass, anyway. It really brings out all the damn lies he’s been hiding in them. Bucky got home just as I finished throwing the last bit of clothes onto the lawn.

‘If the neighbors get to asking, I won't cover nothin' up. I'll tell 'em every little detail, how you drug me through the mud. I'm gonna string up your old button-down and slide it on the porch, just in case you get the nerve to come knockin' on my door.’

To say that he looked surprised would be the biggest understatement I’d ever witnessed. He looked toward me, eyebrows furrowed, about to pop off with something when his eyes caught the shirt. It was then that I could see his whole world crashing down on him in less than five seconds. Good, I hope he feels like shit for what he did. He opened his mouth to say something, and I raised a brow with my hands on my hips.

“What, got some excuse for me?” I questioned.

“Doll, let’s talk about this-” He started.

“Sure, fine, let’s talk about that hideous pink lipstick on your collar, or that cheap ass corner store perfume on your shirt. Let’s talk about the red wine stain on the pocket. Or, if those sound too boring for you, we can talk about the damn note that was beside the bed. Victim’s choice.” I said, crossing my arms.

“What? That’s not red wine, that’s-that’s-” He stuttered.

“That’s what? Cat got your tongue?” I questioned.

“That’s just cranberry juice.” He poorly excused.

“Honey, cranberry juice neither smells like that or stains like that.” I debunked, “How about the lipstick? Got another theory for that?”

“It’s not lipstick-” He began.

“Really?” I asked in a falsely shocked tone with my eyebrows raised, “’Cause it looks an awful lot like a lip print to me. Hmmm, maybe it’s just icing off of a donuts, huh?” I questioned with sarcasm.

“Doll, please-” He started again.

“I hope the neighbors start rumors about you, I hope the team asks you why you were thrown out, I hope heat gets put on you like a Louisiana summer.” I spat.

“Can’t we talk about this like human beings?” He asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was talking to a human being. I thought I was talking to a weasel, my mistake.” I said as I walked inside of the house.

“Babe, Doll, wait-” He began again.

“Don’t you touch that shirt or that note,” I pointed to the shirt that started this mess, “It’s gonna stay there in case you ever decide to come back. Kind of like how a scarecrow works on birds, except this one is for a weasel.” I said, “Oops, sorry, a human weasel.”

“Y/N-” Bucky started.

“Goodbye, doll.” I said, shutting the door in his face.