#like i feel for alex she certainly is not perfect but she had the secure approach of working and communicating through conflict together

[novadreii]

a perfect example of Men Tell You Who They Are Early On You Just Have To Listen With Your Ears Not Your Heart Nor Pussy:

tim pretty much telling alex at the beginning "yeaaaaaah at the first sign of conflict i'm out. i don't do all that." and that's precisely what he did.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

Not me thinking about Kara gently hooking her thumb in Lena’s open mouth, both gasping against each other’s lips as kara makes love to her 😭😭 yeah I’m all in favor of you writing this one first 🥹

I'll be perfectly honest, I can't remember the exact scenario that this ask is referring to, but this visual has been stuck in my head for weeks, so I had to do something with it! This is also in the spirit of some of the more . . . shall we say . . . salacious prompts and headcanons I've received, I hope it lives up to expectation!

FRIENDLY REMINDER that sexy times should always be safe, sane, and consensual! And you should also only have the kind of sex described here with someone you trust and who wouldn't actually hurt you or abuse you. Sex can be like a really vulnerable thing, and Kara and Lena have had plenty of previous discussions about hard and soft limits, and even thought they are VERY angry at one another, neither of them are in any real danger and they both know it. Also, AFTERCARE doesn't take place in the text of the story, but it is EXTREMELY important and does happen with Kara and Lena in this particular setting . . . eventually.

Anyways, I feel like this one needed a disclaimer lol.

Fragile

If the ride up the elevator to the penthouse takes forever, then the biometric scanner at the door somehow takes even longer.

When she built the damn thing, she built it for protection, not for speed, but as she waits on the iris scanner to process through the one million specific data points that make it practically unhackable - even by Lena herself - she finds herself rethinking her priorities.

Because right now she needs nothing more than to be inside her apartment, locked away from the world.

The penthouse was her one solace.

Her one impenetrable place.

Everywhere else had been invaded.

By the media, the DEO, Lex, Cadmus, you name it.

But here, here was safe.

Luckily, Kara will be held up at the DEO debriefing that Lena had run out on for at least another hour or two. By then, Lena will have had time to scrub Kara's biometrics from the apartment entry software and fully lock herself in her apartment.

Her own little fortress of solitude.

She almost laughs at the irony.

She's too angry to laugh, too hurt - too angry at being hurt.

How dare Kara - how dare Supergirl, for that matter- call her out for her 'reckless behavior' in front of Alex and the other DEO agents.

Her plan was well calculated, and she was very aware of the risks she was taking by going through with it.

Besides, she made it out with barely a few bruises.

Only because Kara rescued you. the traitorous part of her brain unhelpfully adds.

The locks on the door finally click open, and she lets herself in, fully re-engaging the security protocol behind her.

Lena is well and truly pissed.

She doesn't remember being this pissed in a long fucking time; and she's certainly never been this pissed at Kara.

How dare she?

Really!

Of all the nerve!

To try and publicly admonish Lena for something she herself would have done - has done - time and time over.

Just because she's Supergirl, she thinks she can be all self righteous and holier-than-thou and you know what?

Fuck her.

Fuck her and her stupid cape, and her stupid heat vision and her stupid flying and her stupid fucking hair and . , ,

"Yeahhughh!" Lena shouts, slamming the control panel of her security system closed. There, let Kara try to get in now.

Good fucking luck.

Unless she just decided to use brute strength and force her way in.

But Lena had just had to listen to a thirty minute lecture about how perfect fucking superheroes never do anything "unethical", so that would be a little out of character, now wouldn't it?

With a few quick switches, she brings down the bulletproof shades down over the floor to ceiling windows looking out over National City. After only a moment's hesitation, she also brings down the lead shades she'd installed.

Let Kara wonder what she's up to and worry about her.

Serves her right.

With one final look over everything to make sure she's locked in tight, Lena heads to to the kitchen. There's a bottle of Scotch with her name on it, and she thinks it's high time she indulges. She even goes for one of those fancy circle ice cubes that her chef insists make everything a 'designer cocktail'; but after she pours a couple of fingers into her favorite glass, something stops her.

It's Kara's voice in her head - because of fucking course it is - asking tentatively if maybe she should talk about her problems instead of trying to drink them away.

And you know what?

Fuck that, because the memory of Kara is quickly ushered along by one of her therapist - and she is not in any sort of mood to be thinking about therapy of all things. Without giving herself time for second thoughts, she pours the amber liquid down the drain with a scowl.

Damn it, if Kara can ruin a good glass of Scotch, then she can ruin just about anything

With a huff, she heads to her master suite, because if she can't self harm with alcohol then she can at least take a scalding hot shower. And maybe that's not exactly healthy either; but Kara's voice in her head is silent at least, and besides, she needs a shower. She knows that her hair is a mess and she's pretty sure Alex was crinkling her nose in disgust whenever Lena stepped upwind of her at the debriefing.

Guess entering the alien ship through the trash chute wasn't her most hygienic option; but hey, it got the job done at least.

She turns the shower nozzle on as hot as it will go, and then waits for steam to fill up the bathroom before she sheds her clothes and steps in.

It's only a few minutes before her skin is red from the heat but she feels marginally better; the smell of lavender and mint permeating the bathroom.

When she eventually becomes numb to the sting of the water, she turns the knobs in the other direction until she's being blasted with water so cold that it almost feels like she's doing one of Alex's ridiculous ice water plunges.

She washes her hair twice before she's satisfied enough to move on to conditioner, and she alternates the water temperature between the two extremes at least four times; that and the extra attention from her loofah leaving her skin feeling tingly and raw.

As she stands in front of the mirror drying her hair with a towel, she has to admit that the shower was definitely more productive than the drinking. Plus she still has a clear head and all of her faculties.

Faculties that she can use to plot petty revenge on her girlfriend.

The thought gives her pause.

Was Kara still her girlfriend?

They hadn't exactly broken up, but they hadn't exactly talked either.

Well, besides Kara having the audacity to call her attempt to save the world 'hare-brained' and 'borderline stupid'. But now Lena has effectively taken away Kara's keys to her apartment, and it's not like Kara has bothered to try and come by anyways.

Maybe they were over.

Good riddance, in Lena's book.

She didn't need Supergirl, or Kara Danvers. Or friends for that matter. Or the DEO, or game night, or Kara eating ice cream with her at three in the morning when she can't sleep or -

She doesn't need any of it.

She was doing just fine on her own.

Just like she was doing just fine on that alien ship before Kara came to 'rescue' her.

Angrily, she yanks a hairbrush through any tangles the conditioner left behind, and throws on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt.

But damn it if it isn't one of Kara's t-shirts that she accidentally pulls out of the drawer.

She doesn't realize it's Kara's until after she's pulled it over her head ,and even though tears sting her eyes at the realization, she doesn't take it off.

It's one of the plain white v-necks that Kara likes to hang around the apartment in, and it's slightly too big for Lena. Muscles and aggressive lounging have stretched it out, and it's soft almost to the point of threadbare.

Fuck it.

It's her shirt now.

She's claiming it.

Not in a 'steal it from your girlfriend to be cute' way, but in a petty theft kind of way.

Hows that for 'unethical'?

She'll just tell Kara to add that to her long list of crimes against humanity.

She pads into the living room, frowning when she sees the blinking light on her security camera monitor. Who could possibly be bothering her now?

A quick look shows that it's not the lobby camera but the balcony camera, and she flicks the feed over to see Kara - Supergirl - hovering outside.

She should have guessed, really.

Of all of Kara's annoying qualities, tenacity was certainly one of the top five.

Kara's gaze shoots to the camera, almost as if she senses Lena watching her.

"Lena, I know you're in there." Kara's voice is pleading, but Lena makes no move to answer; instead shifting her attention to her cuticles. She could really use a manicure, and she makes a mental note to text Jess later.

It's a long moment before the camera's speaker sounds again.

"You took my biometrics off of the balcony door lock."

. . .

"I'm going to assume that you took them off of the inside door as well, because you're nothing if not thorough." Kara spits the word out like it's derogatory, and Lena can't help but feel a spike of sinful pride.

The silence lasts a good five minutes this time before Kara speaks.

"Damn it, Lena! Let me in!"

There it is.

The anger Lena's been waiting for.

Normally Supergirl stays so calm and proper, but occasionally, occasionally, she lets that Kryptonian temper fly.

Lena allows a hint of an evil grin before she shuts the camera monitor off and walks to the refrigerator. Just because she can't use her fancy ice cubes for whiskey, doesn't mean she can't use them in a sparkling water; because nothing says 'gloating super villain' like a bottle of water that costs more than Kara makes in an hour.

So, she fixes another glass with ice and pours the water in until the bubbles almost spill over the top. Then she takes a long, refreshing sip - letting the hint of lemon-lime in the effervescence tickle her nose.

You're not a super villain. You're not a villain at all. the voice in her head reminds her.

The thought should bring her peace, but instead it only infuriates her more. Just because she chooses to do things differently than Supergirl doesn't mean that Kara gets to guilt trip her about it.

She does a lot of good for this world.

A whole hell of a lot more good than anyone in her family has ever done bad; despite Lex and Lillian's best efforts. She's more than made up for her family name, and she's more than proved herself an ally to Supergirl, and how dare Kara try to make her feel like anything less.

She drains the glass before slamming it down with a little more force than necessary.

Fuck.

Fuckity, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

She braces herself against the kitchen counter, staring blankly past the glass doors of the cabinets at the cups and bowls meticulously stacked inside.

She's not sure how long she stands there before a loud crack from living room snaps her attention away. She turns to see Kara standing just inside, the remnants of Lena's door lock dangling from her fingertips.

Lena clucks her tongue.

"Well, well, well; Supergirl breaking and entering, aren't you just the little deviant."

Kara's eyes are flaming with anger, and Lena's half surprised that she hasn't been melted into the floor with heat vision.

After a long staring contest, Kara walks towards Lena's work bench in the corner and tosses the pieces of door lock on it.

"Right, cause I'm just Miss goody-two-shoes."

"If the shoe fits." Lena smirks at the cleverness of her own pun, but Kara's scowl only deepens as she stalks into the kitchen.

Her gaze darts around before settling on the empty glass on the counter and then the still open bottle of Scotch. She gives Lena a hard glare.

"Really, Lena? You leave me outside so you can what? Get drunk and ignore your feelings?"

Kara's voice raises as she speaks, and the end of the question comes out in a bellow; Kara's face red and angry as she reaches for the bottle of Scotch and pitches it across the kitchen.

It shatters against the countertop, and once again Lena's finds herself grateful that she always invests in durable building supplies.

Normally, Kara would look petulant after any sort of outburst, but in this case it's seemed only to fan the flames of her ire. Her entire body is shaking so much that she's practically vibrating.

Years of dealing with the Luthor family drama is the only thing that lets Lena look unbothered, despite the discontent in her chest.

"I was drinking water, actually, but thank you for getting rid of the rest of the bottle, I'm trying to cut back."

Kara almost has the decency to look scolded, but it fades quickly.

"You are . . ."

"What?" Lena snaps.

"Completely infuriating."

"You just can't stand it that I can fix things without your help, can you? It really gets under your skin that I can do just as much good as you without parading myself as some sort of paragon of honor and justice."

Kara barks a laugh.

"That's what you think this is? You think I'm upset because you're trying to do good? Every time you go off on one of your hare-brained schemes -"

"There's that word again, you know you'd think for an ace reporter you'd have a broader vocabulary." Lena can tell by Kara's shift in posture that her words hit home, and she allows herself a moment to gloat before Kara's steely blue eyes settle heavily on her and she feels the breath seep out of her chest.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to make me angry." Kara's voice is dangerous and low, igniting something in Lena - a feeling she can't quite place.

In an odd sort of way, It feels good, to have Kara angry at her.

To have Kara expressing something instead of that stone cold facade she'd held at the DEO. Lena craves it, needs it.

Needs something to distract her from the aftermath of delayed panic and guilt that's starting to overtake her.

"Maybe I am."

Lena knows what she's doing is basically like dangling raw meat in front of a bear and daring it to chase after her.

Kara studies her for a long moment before lifting her gaze away. The silence floats around them like a fog as Kara stares off in the distance - her stare fixated on something that isn't really there. Her fingers drumroll heavy on the counter and the durability of the quartz counter top is tested for a second time that night.

Lena can see the muscles of her jaw clenching and unclenching, teeth grinding together so harshly that she briefly wonders if the creation of diamonds would be possible under such conditions.

After a few long, tense minutes, Kara's gaze settles back on Lena and she shifts under the weight of it.

"Do you think," Kara takes a slow step forward before repeating herself. "Do you think I do it for you? Do you think that when you recklessly throw yourself into danger that I just drop everything and rescue you, for you? Do you think you're so important that I just risk everything for you?" She's close enough now that her breathy laugh ghosts over Lena's face.

"I'm a very . . . selfish woman, Lena. All those times that I threw caution to the wind, that I risked the very fate of the universe in order to save you - I did it for me."

Kara's gaze is threatening to burn a, (quite literal), hole in Lena's skull and she can't help but take a step back. Only, Kara follows, and now Lena's boxed in between her and the counter. The exact definition of a rock and a hard place.

"Do you know why, I always rescue you, Lena?" Both her tone and the fingers tracing Lena's cheekbone are overtly tender, but right below the surface is an edge of sharpened steel.

"Because I have lost everything , and I will not lose you." Kara's hand drops to Lena's neck, thumb pressing harshly into her bottom lip.

It's some sort of animal instinct that has Lena tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck like a dog to its alpha.

Kara's eyes study her face for a long while, as if she's cataloguing every detail for her sketchbook later.

Lena uses the opportunity to analyze Kara.

Her blonde hair has been washed of the grease that had been streaking it earlier. and she smells faintly of ozone and unfallen rain, and Lena wonders how much time she spent circling in the atmosphere before she decided to stop by for a visit.

Long enough to get pissed, by the look of barely concealed rage on her face.

That's ok, Lena's pissed too; and she's never been one to back away from a fight.

"If you would just listen to me -" Kara starts but Lena's already heard enough.

"You mean if I would just shut up and do what you tell me."

"That's not what I said."

"But that's what you meant, isn't it? That your life would be easier if I would just fall in line and do things the Supergirl way. Spoiler alert, Kara; the Supergirl way isn't always the best way."

With one last, defiant meeting of their eyes, Lena sidesteps out of Kara's reach and uses a broom to start sweeping at the remnants of the broken Scotch bottle on the floor.

She can feel Kara's eyes on her, but she very pointedly ignores her, choosing instead to keep her back positioned to the superhero.

When the majority of the glass is scooped up and deposited in the trash, she reaches for a washcloth, wetting it in the sink before turning her attention to the shards of glass on the countertop, carefully wiping them onto the dustpan.

"Lena."

The plea in Kara's voice is evident, but Lena still ignores it, forcing herself to stay focused on the task at hand.

"Lena."

This time Kara is more insistent, and her hand reaches out to rest on Lena's shoulder, but Lena shrugs it off with grunt.

Before can even process what's happening, Kara is spinning her around; pressing Lena's hips hard into the counter with her own, bending her backwards until her head is trapped against the cabinets.

Kara's laugh is dark.

"Do you even realize how fragile you are?"

Lena can't deny that Kara's aura is a little frightening, and her hands scramble for purchase on the counter, looking for anything to give her leverage. She feels the fragment of glass under her finger like crumb a split second before she registers the prick of pain.

"Shit." she jerks her hand up, trying to examine the wound, but Kara intercepts it, closing her fingers around Lena's wrist in a bruising grip. Lena's tries unsuccessfully to snatch her hand back, but Kara doesn't relent; her tone mocking as she smirks.

"See? Fragile."

"Stop that, I'm bleeding."

"What, you don't want me to clean up your mess this time?"

Lena just thought she was mad before.

If looks could kill, then Kara would certainly be dead from the daggers that Lena is shooting into her skull.

Before she can voice a come back, Kara's lips close around the tip of her finger, sucking away the dark red droplet of blood so she can get an unobstructed view of the wound. It irritates Lena to know that Kara can hear the uptick in her heart rate just like she can hear the way Lena's breath catches in her throat at the intimate action.

Kara's eyes narrow as she examines Lena's finger, and Lena knows that she's using her x-ray vision to check for hidden injuries.

Hidden injuries.

On practically a fucking paper cut for gods sake.

She uses Kara's distraction to successfully jerk her hand away, but in less than a split second, she's been recaptured and whisked to the sink. The water is cold as Kara holds the offended finger under the stream, and Lena can't help but roll her eyes.

Just like Kara to be over protective and smothering - a fact that's even more evident when Lena feels the rush of wind as Kara super speeds to the hall closet where the first aid kit is kept and returns with a bandaid and antiseptic in hand.

Kara's look dares Lena to argue with her, and Lena chooses to pick her battles.

So Lena holds still as Kara cleans and dresses her wound, minor as it may be, green eyes attempting to bore a hole from one side of Kara's head to the other. Finally, the job is finished, and Lena turns her glare to the bright yellow bandage around her finger.

She huffs angrily.

"Kara this is fucking ridiculous, I'm more than capable of - "

The sound of a fist connecting with the wall startles her, and she looks up to see Kara hulking over her - eyes dark and cheeks red.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Kara glowers, and once again her hand settles on Lena's neck. This time, her thumb gently massages at Lena's pulse point.

Lena knows, knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that Kara would never hurt her; but her point is loud and clear -

If she wanted to, she could.

The realization sends a shiver down Lena's spine as her eyes shutter closed. She swallows against the pressure on her throat; and when her eyes reopen, Kara is closer than before - blue eyes harsh and glinting as she dares Lena to resist.

Lena doesn't exactly fight her, but she doesn't back down either. For a few long, tense moments, their breath mixes in the air between until Lena isn't quite sure if it's Kara's imposing presence thats leaving her weak in the knees or if it's too much carbon dioxide from their shared air.

"Do it." she dares Kara in a whisper.

"What?"

"Don't play stupid." Lena's voice is raw and broken with emotion, and again she swallows pointedly against Kara's grip; never breaking eye contact.

"We both know you want to hurt me."

Kara doesn't respond verbally, but her fingers flex against Lena's neck.

The tension between them is tight, like a bungee cord about to break; and Lena isn't sure if the resulting snap will bring them crashing together or send them falling apart.

"Do it. Show me you're the only one who gets to break me apart, Supergirl."

Kara's reaction this time is instantaneous.

She lifts Lena effortlessly onto the countertop, stepping between her legs as Lena's head and back slam into the cabinet.

"Fuck." The word is barely spoken before Kara swallows it - teeth clashing against Lena's as her tongue lays claim to Lena's mouth.

The kiss is hot and heavy and possessive, and if Lena thought she was low on oxygen before, she's running on fumes now; her breath panting at every split second of relief she's given from onslaught of Kara's lips. The hand on her hip is bruising, and the hand on her throat moves to fist in her hair. It's too much and not enough; and her own hands are against Kara chest - pushing her away or pulling her in, she isn't really sure which.

Before she can process what's happening, her sweatpants and underwear are yanked off and thrown across the room, and she's hissing as the coldness of the countertop meets her bare ass. Kara makes quick work of her stolen shirt, Lena's negligence at putting on a bra after her shower leaving her nipples peaked and aching as they're exposed to the air.

Then Kara is pressed against her, the material of the super suit rubbing against Lena's still tender skin. But, Kara is warm, so warm, the heat radiating off of her like a furnace; and Lena tugs her impossibly closer, ankles locking around her waist. She shivers as er cunt rubs agains Kara's pelvis, the one place of connection where Lena is hotter than Kara.

"Fuck." Lena repeats, only this time it comes out half slurred, Kara's tongue thick in her mouth.

She should really be careful what she wishes for, because Kara shifts and the hand that was on her waist is now inside her - three of the fingers, anyway, judging by the stretch. It hurts, but she wants more, something inside of her needing to feel Kara's raw power. Kara may need to see that she's the only one with the power to destroy Lena; but so does Lena. Whether she admits it or not, today's close call has left her frightened and vulnerable, and she needs reassurance that Kara will always be there to save her.

So she clutches at Kara, one hand gripping her cape and one on the elbow of the hand that's inside of her, the seam of material that loops over Kara's palm chaffing at her sensitive skin while Kara thumbs her clit. Kara's fingers slip almost completely out before they piston back in, knuckles slamming in so hard that Lena feels her pelvic bone jar with the force.

She's losing all aspects of higher brain function; the only sounds she's capable of making are keening half syllables of desperation. The hand in Lena's hair applies a steady pressure, pulling her back until Kara has easy access to her neck. Lena know as soon as those warm lips give way to teeth on her collarbone that she going to be relegated to high collars for a least a week to hide the bruising.

Kara leads a wet trail down Lena's chest, her fingers never slowing their violent rhythm. As her lips close around Lena's nipple, encasing it in a warm, wet heat, Lena feels her brain short circuit. There's nothing but white hot heat behind her eyes and down her chest, exploding out of her center.

She can feel the wave of orgasm cresting already, and tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Kara must feel her start to tighten because she pulls her head back from Lena's chest and releases her vice grip on Lena's hair. That hand moves instead back to Lena's neck, and this time the pressure isn't merely suggested - it's real - leaving Lena gasping helplessly for air as she chases her release. Her eyes roll back in her head and the rollercoaster is just about to come crashing down the hill when Kara's hand moves again to, (almost gently), cup her chin before her thumb hooks into Lena's panting mouth and pulls their foreheads together.

"Look at me when you cum." Kara growls, and Lena has no choice but to obey. Their eyes meet in a storm of blue and green, pupils wide with lust and fury. The sight is enough to send Lena past the point of no return and her body shakes uncontrollably as her cunt spasms around Kara's still thrusting fingers, her slick spilling into Kara's hand.

She might black out, she's not entirely sure; but when she comes back to her senses Kara's forehead is resting on her shoulder, and her fingers are still thrusting inside Lena - albeit at a much gentler pace.

"Kara." she chokes out in a strangled cry, her body shuddering with the aftershocks of her release.

"I've got you, I've got you." Kara promises fervently as she slowly withdraws her hand from its ministrations and scoops Lena up into a bridal carry.

It takes all of Lena's strength to wrap her arms around Kara's neck; but then Kara's lips are on hers, soft and gentle this time. It's easy to lose herself in the kiss, the emotion, the perfect bliss of Kara's embrace. At least until she feels Kara's lips curl in a smirk and she pulls back to see her girlfriend sporting a very self satisfied smile.

Something is triggered in Lena at the almost gloating expression on Kara's face.

Despite the emotional and physical high she just experienced, she can't help but feel a sense of wounded pride at the fact that Kara, in essence, won.

Yet again, Kara gets to play the hero, swooping in and 'rescuing' Lena at the last minute; carrying her distressing damsel off into the sunset.

Lena levels her gaze at the superhero.

Kara coming away from this feeling like the victor?

That, that simply won't do.

Luthors may lose, but Lena - Lena never does.

Whew! We all need cold holy water showers now! There will most likely be a part two to this if reception is good.

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 45: Where?

I smiled as I stared at myself in the mirror of mine and Albert's room. My belly was covered in many stretch marks. Today was the day my and Albert's vows would be renewed. I was fluttering in excitement.

"Nighthawk to Phoenix, do you read me boss lady?" Nighthawk's voice came through my com choker.

"What's wrong, hawk?" I said, accepting the link.

"Nothing. I was just letting you know everything is set up, and you should start getting ready. I'll be up there to escort you down in roughly thirty minutes time." He said as the coms disconnected.

"Always in a rush." I sigh, shaking my head.

Quickly, I start to change. I wasn't doing anything fancy with my hair and makeup. I didn't need much prepping for these events since being infected with the Angelis virus.

Slowly, I draped the lovely two part gown over my body. The lavender lace clinging to my baby bump, creating a globe of lotus petals. While the fabric was somewhat scratchy, I couldn't help but run my hand over the children. I felt so happy.

I never wanted to lose this moment. I wish I had a camera to save this thought forever. This was a field of mental bliss. Just me and my unborn children, I felt a small set of kicks as I smiled.

I heard the elevator open. Nighthawk must be here to esscort me to the library. I removed my com choker as a tinge of unease fell over me. Nighthawk was never this quiet.

"Wesk! Is that you love?" I shouted out, grabbing my samurai edge from the trunk at the foot of our bed.

Nothing but silence. I loaded my pistol  and stepped out of mine and Albert's room. The common area seemed darker than normal. I walked out facing the elevator, noticing nothing strange. I quickly faced the balcony and living room.

After a brief second, I felt a sharp stinging in my neck that dropped me to my knees. What the fuck! Pain surged through my body. I hadn't felt anything like this since Angelis bound itself to my genetic code. My vision was blurry. My body was burning as I could feel my muscles loosen and contract rapidly. In a searing wave of pain, I released my firearm, unable to keep a solid grip on it

"Well , well, well, just look at you now, dear sister in law." I heard a distorted voice say.

I saw white leather dress shoes step in front of me. My vision was slowly fading, but in my desperation, my body fought against whatever was assailing it. The voice wasn't clear in tone, but I knew for damn sure who did this.

"ALEX!" I instantly covered my mouth.

A jolt of shock and horror shook me. My voice sounded just like my mutated forms. What was happening to me. I grabbed my side and toppled over. My pain had tripled in agony in a matter of seconds.

"Poor poor darling Tabitha, look how you have fallen to me. Vladimir certainly was on the right track with this destabilizing agent. An antigen would have probably killed you by now, so this destabilizing toxin was perfect for you. Can't risk hurting Albert's children after all." She mused at my expense.

A feral growl escaped my throat. I reach for my neck only to remember I has previously removed my choker because I thought it would clash with the dress. I let my guard down for a day that should have been nothing but happy. I was furious, not only with myself but with the obstacle in my way. Should I just lash out or try and drag myself to get my comlink.

"Reduced to base instincts, aren't you? Fight or flight? The itch to kill what is threatening not only you but your unborn brood or the desire to cower away to your and Albert's room? Face it, my silly little sister in law you've always been nothing more than an animal for Umbrellas entertainment." Alex laughed as I heard the elevator open again, Nighthawk strode into my view.

"Lady Alex, have you secured your captive?" He said to my disbelief.

"Agent Nighthawk! Ex-explain your s-self!" I barely mustered out.

He turned to face me, and my heart sunk. His eyes once gleaming hawk like yellow eyes were glazed over and a sullen grey. His eyes were the same as mine when I was under the control of Sergei.

"I must say you train your people well deary. It took the highest setting to control him. Even now, I can see it in his face, his eyes in particular. He is fighting for control. To save you from what he knows is about to happen. But no one can save you now, my dear sweet Tabitha." Alex laughed as she snapped.

Nighthawk walked towards me and slid a syringe in my neck. He lifted me as my body went numb. I could feel his heart pounding against his chest.  Alex walked up to me and pulled out a scalpel from her sleeve.

"Sorry, deary, but I need this to be believable." Alex said, grabbing my head by my bangs.

Even in my drugged haze, I had enough energy to spit in her eye. That earned me a harsh slap across my face. She quickly cut good-sized gash on my forehead as she wiped her eye.

I felt the blood trickle down my face. It's sticky warmth, quickly drying, leaving an irritating path of flaky  ichor. As the drug slowly overpowered my weakened body, I felt soft but yet cold icy arms position me bridal style. 

"Now deary, it's time to rest. When you next awaken, you shall be in your new home." Alex said with her back turned wiping what little blood there was on her hands on the wall leading to the elevator.

I looked into Nighthawk's eyes, and I saw flecks of yellow starting to burst through the grey. He truly was fighting her. He looked down at me, and the concern in his eyes was palpable. He groaned as if to say he knew.

"Knock her out. We can't risk having her giving away our position." Alex barked as the elevator opened.

Nighthawk gripped my pressure point near my carotid artery. As everything went to black.

(Wesker's P.O.V.)

"Ten minutes," I murmured under my breath as I stared out over the library.

My lotus had worked wonders on the Gothic architecture, making it feel hospitable and inviting. The warm atmosphere matched a gentle spring day as what few guests we had invited  chatted amongst themselves.

Jill and Gale were sitting front and center next to the aisle. They were hand in hand. They had appeared to have grown close over these past few months. Even with Jill under my control for missions, she seemed to have stopped fighting against the no contact order. She hasn't attempted to reach out to Chris or the B.S.A.A.

"Ahh, Dr. Wesker, glad to see you." Arias said, walking up to me to my slightest annoyance.

"Welcome, Glen. I'm glad you were able to make it to this important celebration for me and Tabitha." I said, offering my hand in which he quickly took giving it a firm shake.

"Don't think about it. In all honesty, I'm grateful to your wife for extending the invitation. It's quite lovely. Where is Ms. Tabitha? I'd like to extend my gratitude to her as well."  Glen said, looking around the room.

"She is currently on her way from what I was told by my stepson." I said, looking towards the entrance of the library.

Arjuna was there, his blue streaks of hair slicked back, and the collar of his button-up looked disheveled. He seemed on edge. I know he had instructed Nighthawk to fetch my dear lotus so we could start the ceremony.  That was almost forty minutes ago.  He kept messing with him comlink. Something didn't set quite right with me.

"Excuse me, Glen. I'm going to go speak with Arjuna." I bluntly said dismissing Arias from my mind.

With a quickened pace, I walked up to  my step-son. As I got close, I could see in his posture that he was panicked. I pulled him aside.

"What is the situation, Archer?" I said, adjusting my sunglasses.

"The coms are down, I can't get ahold of mom or Nighthawk. Hell, it's not even connecting to Gale or the guards I have stationed around the base." He said, ripping the choker off in frustration.

"How long?" I said unease, setting in.

"Thirty-five minutes, just after my partner went to fetch T." He groaned, "The last contact was between my partner and her. At least, that was what White Queen told me when she finished diagnostics."

"I'm going to check on them. Hopefully, I will run into them on the way." I said about to open the door.

"Take Gale and Jill with you. I hate saying this, but something isn't sitting right with me." Archer said, grabbing my wrist.

He boldness stunned me for a brief moment. Normally, Arjuna was more reticent with his actions. The fact he so brazenly grabbed me stood out.

"If you insist, I shall accommodate your request. Actually, you and I both are thinking something isn't how it's supposed to be." I said, "keep the guests here. We will be back shortly."

I walked over to Chambers and Valentine. When they saw my face, they nodded and stood up. We quickly exited the library.

"You don't think Tabs got cold feet, do ya?" Gale asked Jill as we rushed through the hallways, searching for my lotus.

"Not a chance, Gale. I saw the dress as soon as it arrived. The glee on her face was  unmistakable. She was really looking forward to today." Jill said.

We quickly reached the elevator to mine and Tabitha's room. We hadn't run into my lotus or Nighthawk. However, as soon as I gazed upon the ground, I felt my eyes flare. There smeared on the dull concrete was a moderate blood trail, coming from the elevator. They noticed it, too.

"Gale! You check the room! Jill, follow me! Something happened!" I snarled, calling the elevator for Gale.

"On it! You go find Tabs." Gale said, getting on the elevator.

Jill and I quickly followed the trail. It slowly tappered off, but its direction was leading towards the secret exit that led into the nearby mountains that Markus had built in as an escape route. A primal need to protect was coursing through my blood. As if realizing it's master was in dire need, Angelis activated. My vision drastically became sharper, and my sense of smell was picking up faint traces of blood and sweet pea perfume.

The new information led me down a neglected section of hallways and tunnels. The lights were shattered out, and the tunnels were lit with dying emergency lighting embedded in the wall. There was a thick layer of dust on the floor. Stopping for a moment, I noticed something along the hall ahead leading to the door.

There were two sets of footprints, and neither were my sweet lotus's. The first was a set of boots. Clearly, someone came prepared. The next set of dust tracks was peculiar. They were of a set of dress shoe tracks. They were petite, and the heel was a thick wedge of some sort.

My field of vision turned red, and I bolted, leaving Jill behind. Tabitha was all I had on my mind. I had a task I needed to complete. Get my beloved wife back.

I ripped the door out of the wall with little effort. The rusted object was no match for me. I keep going forward only to stop and see nighthawk being shot out of a black helicopter that was hovering roughly thirty feet in the air.

As soon as nighthawk hit the ground, the helicopter started ascending and flew off. My emotions went cold. There wasn't any anti-aircraft weaponry long the mountains. I decided that when i started using this base, I wasn't going to fully retrofit it with weaponry along the mountains to keep it hidden from Satellites.

I noticed that nighthawk was trying to force himself up. I walked over towards him. My anger flared like a blazing wild fire. As I got to him, there was dust caked on his combat boots.

He opened his eyes that were almost flickering back and forth between his natural color and a hazy grey. His body spasmed as his hand covered the  gunshot wound in his left pectoral. He had landed on his back, and his once immaculate wings were unfurled splayed out on the ground.

"Wesker, sir. I failed." He coughed out as  blood poured from his lips. "Damn that woman!"

I heard three sets of people running up behind me as I lifted up nighthawk  by his collar. He looked like he was on deaths door, awaiting the sickle to swing down to end his suffering. The grey his eyes kept shifting to was the same color that my darling lotus's were when she was being controlled by Sergei.

"Wesker!" Gale shouted, running up behind me, grabbing my shoulder ,"It was Alex!"

Everything just stopped. I felt myself let go of the dying Phoenix Corps agent and turn to face Chambers. He had a look of pure hatred on his face.

Jill and Archer ran behind us and started treating Nighthawk's wounds. With a single motion, Gale opened his hand, revealing a note on worn Umbrella stationary.

I took it from his hands and unfolded it. In dark ink, there was a penned note from Alex.

"Brother, it is a shame thing have become like this. I believe we should talk. Fret not, I won't harm a hair on my nieces or nephews. Your weak, useless, and pitiful wife is in my care now. It would be a shame should anything happen to your favorite toy, right? I shall reach out through Nighthawk in a weeks time. It's time you remember where you belong, Brother. If you don't, I'll be sure your Lotus wilts away and the last thorn in father's side will be destroyed."

White...blank...where!? Where is she!? Where did that bitch take you my love?!?!

"ALEX!!!" I snarled out as the guards of Phoenix Corps. surrounded nighthawk, placing him in B.O.W. restraining  cuffs and escorting him into the base.

"Wesker!" Jill called out to me.

Slowly, I realized that I had to play this strategically. Alex was as intelligent as I was. She clearly had a plan in place, and I could play into her hands if I wasn't careful. 

I looked over the edge of the mountains, "I will not be away from you long, my dear lotus. Of that, I promise."

Hey everyone, Silfarianhawk here. We are on to the next ark. Oh, this will be fun... at least for me, that is. I hope ya'll have an amazing day. As always, my name is Silfarianhawk, and  I'm not so far away.

[gaymasonjar]

Will You Meet Me In The Middle?

Preview of Chapter 7: Sanctuary

 It was late in the morning when they crossed the border to their home state. Bags packed into the back of the truck and a small cooler up front with snacks for the road. It had taken them two days between stopping at gas stations and switching up who drove. Monday morning light was shining on them as they crossed through New Mexico. They were less than an hour out from the city limits of Roswell.

 The radio was blasting music that Alex was humming along to. His eyes were focused on the passing landscape, the wind blowing his hair around since the windows were rolled down. Michael had his left hand wrapped around Alex’s thigh as he drove.

 Alex’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, noticing the new notification. It was an email from the photographer. He opened it excitedly. There were nearly 100 good photos that were edited. They looked      amazing    , perfect even.

 “Oh, my god.”

 Michael glanced at him, “What’s up?”

 “I got the photos back from Dawn- they’re amazing Michael.”

 He scooted over on the bench seat to get closer to his husband. Michael glanced down at the phone periodically as Alex swiped through the pictures. He tightened his grip on Alex’s leg; neither noticing the soft glow from his hand.

 “Incredible…who knew we both cleaned up so well?”

 Alex laughed lightly, “I’m printing these out to put up around the house.”

 “All of them? Might as well turn them into a collage and past it like wallpaper.”

 “Some of them I’ll print for hanging, the rest is going in our first album.”

 Michael raised his eyebrows, “Alex Guerin, are you telling me that we’re starting our first photo album?”

 “I think so.”

 “God, I love you so much.”

 “I can tell”, Alex pressed his hand over the spot on his chest where Michael had left the first handprint. “I can      feel     it. It’s intense.”

 “Cosmic”, Michael corrected cheekily.

 “Cosmic”, Alex agreed before resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. “We should stop at the Wild Pony before we go to the house, and get some lunch.”

 “Sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”

 Alex looked down at his phone, flipping through the pictures again and again. The smile never left his face. He never thought it possible to be so in love and so happy. After choosing his favorite picture- the one of him and Michael laughing as they sat on the back of the car and the cathedral was behind them- he set it as his new lock screen.

 “I think my new IDs should be arriving in the mail soon”, Alex stated as he adjusted the radio volume. “I left the paperwork with Maria before we left so hopefully she remembered to mail it off for me.”

 “Eager to drop the Manes name?”

 “You know it. It’s the last thing my father gave me and I’m ready to part with it.”

 Michael squeezed his thigh, “Now Kyle can just look at us collectively when he’s mad and call us both Guerin.”

 A smirk crossed his face as he imagined it. “‘Guerin! You guys need to wait a minute to actually think this through!’”

 He laughed at his husband’s impression of the doctor. “Exactly.”

 “Husband privileges.”

 “Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

 “Well, it’s certainly not a disadvantage.”

 Michael chuckled.

 The ‘Welcome to Roswell’ sign had come and gone. The Wild Pony was up ahead. Michael parked the truck in the busy parking lot. After placing his cowboy hat securely on his head, he led Alex by the hand into the establishment. Most of the tables were crowded with the lunch rush traffic.

 Maria Deluca was working behind the bar. Hoop earrings, pink tank top, curls, and all. She was pouring beers for her customers, not paying attention to her newest ones. Michael and Alex grabbed the two stools at the end of the bar and waited patiently. Maria swept down toward them with menus in hand. She placed them down in front of them before she even lifted her gaze.

 “Welcome in, what can I start you wi-” Maria’s eyes widened in surprise before she squealed. She ran around the bar to hug both of them at once. “You’re back!”

 “Honeymoons don’t last forever, unfortunately”, Michael joked.

 “Tell me EVERYTHING”, Maria paused. “Okay, maybe not everything but I want details! How was it? Where did you go?”

 “San Diego”, Alex supplied. “Beautiful beaches. It was so relaxing.”

 Maria rounded back behind the bar as she wiggled her eyebrows, “I’m sure not THAT relaxing.”

 “I’m not giving you details on our sexcapades.”

 Michael snorted and rubbed a hand down his face.

 Maria fake pouted before she leaned forward. “I saw the video, very cute.”

 “We also took pictures while we were out there.”

 “I HAVE to see those.”

 “After we get a drink”, Michael interrupted. “Long drive.”

 “Oh, of course, one second.”

 Maria went to fill two glasses of beer for her friends, knowing what they regularly drank while in her establishment. Alex pulled the pictures up on his phone while she was busy with that. Once the beers were set down, she leaned across the bar eagerly. Her jaw dropped as she scrolled through the pictures.

 “You guys are sooooo hot- I love these!”

 “We had a really good photographer”, Alex supplied.

 “Wait- oh my god, those are the sweatshirts that Isobel made you while Alex was in the hospital. How cute!”

 Michael sipped his beer, “Honestly as dorky as they are, they’re very comfortable. And I like that everyone can just read it and know. No questions. This man belongs to me.”

 Alex grabbed his free hand and kissed the back of it. “We belong to each other.”

 “Ugh, stop. You guys are adorable”, Maria stated as she waved her hand at her face.

 Michael chuckled at her antics, “So did we miss anything while we were gone for nearly three weeks?”

 “Well. Max and Dallas are still gone. No word about that. Isobel and Kyle finally stopped dancing around each other. Oh, and Liz has kinda just thrown herself back into her work.”

 Alex frowned, “Really?”

 Maria nodded as she fidgeted with her necklace pendant, “Yea. She’s still trying to get her brain back to the speed it was before the whole alien mist fiasco. And I don’t think she wants to process that her fiance is on the other side of the universe. Bit much for her.”

 “I know how hard that can feel”, the brunette glanced at his husband. “It was bad enough being trapped in another dimension.”

 “They’ll come back”, Michael said. “The control panel still functions, it just needs fuel. I’m sure it’s easier to get it on Oasis than it is on Earth.”

 Alex hummed in agreement as he pulled out a pill bottle from his jacket. He poured a few into his hand before taking them. Maria glanced at him as he did. Alex was still prescribed to take Prussian Blue to fight off any remaining radiation left from his time spent in the other dimension. He was due for another checkup with Valenti now that they were back in New Mexico.

 “So, how have you been feeling?”

 “Honestly, really good”, Alex promised as he sipped his drink. “Haven’t noticed any side effects.”

 “Good- Kyle will be happy to hear that, he’s been worried about you.”

 “I would’ve let him know if anything was wrong.”

 “You know how he is.” Maria flipped her curls back over her shoulder, “He carries more stress than anyone should.”

 “If he knows what’s good for him, he should think about working for Deep Sky”, Michael interrupted.

 “He’s a doctor Michael, he wants to help people”, Maria scolded.

 “Yea but he’s also the only alien doctor we’ve got. Deep Sky can provide equipment and materials that he doesn’t need to steal from the hospital.”

 “I can talk to him about it. I know his uncle wouldn’t be against it”, Alex agreed. “I have to see him this week anyway.”

 “Deep Sky creeps me out”, Maria muttered.

 “Why?”

 “It’s a secret organization. Can you really trust that it’s completely good?”

 “No”, Alex tapped his glass with his finger. “But you can’t really trust anything- military, government, local or federal. The world isn’t as black and white as people wish it was.”

 Michael snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

 “I just worry too, 'cause ya know, I’m like that”, Maria stated. “Anyway! Lunch is on me, what are we thinking, boys?”

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45325099/chapters/114787342

[joe9cool]

Collide-Justin Herbert- 20

A/N: This is fiction, I do not know the Chargers or anyone associated with them.

Luck was on her side.

She arrived at the airport, and found a flight to LAX pretty quickly. It was extra money, but she didn't care.

She had shut her phone off once she arrived. While she was in the uber her phone was going off with texts and calls. Mainly from her sisters and her mom.

Not a peep from her dad. 

She should have been shocked. This is how her dad was. Always stuck up for his sister. Wanted to have the perfect family look towards outsiders. 

She and her dad used to be close until she found her love for the theater. Then it was like her dad had nothing in common with her.  It was solidified when he told her he wasn't paying for her school,but when Willa's kid got in trouble he was right there.

She had gotten on the plane thankfully with her mask no one seemed to know who she was. 

The flight went smooth, and once she landed she found herself swarmed by paparazzi who were hanging out, looking for their big break. She didn't have her sunglasses, so she was blinded by the lights. The shouting by all the men surrounding her were starting to freak her out. While she was trying to get her luggage.

"How was your Holiday Sara?"

"Look My way Sara!"

"Welcome back!"

"Sara will you be attending Harry's concert at SoFi Sunday?"

"How do you feel about Harry and Olivia breaking up?"

It was all overwhelming, she felt her breathing get heavy. She was trapped, there was no ending in sight. 

"Guys please back up." She didn't know who said it. Tears were streaming down her face as cameras were getting closer. Her air was being taken up by all of these people

"BACK OFF!"

She was having an attack. She turned to see a camera go off in her face. Spots aligned her vision, next thing she knew she was on the ground."

I SAID GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" She was in tears now

Everyone began to back off and she saw an unfamiliar face. "Ms. Wozniak I am officer Ryan with airport security are you okay?" 

She nodded and he helped her get off the ground. "I am very sorry about that, they are not supposed to be here taking photos in the airport. Do you need me to call someone?"

She didn't know who to call, everyone was out of town. She had just planned on taking a taxi back to her place to get her car and then go to Justin's.

"I can call a bodyguard service for you if you'd like." She nodded and then finally spoke. "Thank you so much. I didn't think they would be that overwhelming."

He guided her to get her bags. "If you don't mind me asking why didn't you just take the personal tunnel?"

She didn't know why, sometimes she didn't feel like a celebrity despite being in the business for a few years. "I guess it didn't dawn on me," officer Ryan laughed.

"Well I will have you wait in the office. I can call the police and you can press charges if you like."

She shook her head, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. "No, I just want to get home please.

Of course whether she liked it or not, the videos were all over tmz and other news sites.

SARA WOZNIAK FREAKS OUT FOLLOWING ALTERCATION WITH PAPARAZZI AT LAX

the  article, along with the full video were up. Before she knew it she was trending on twitter. The video sparking outrage, within minutes she had Heidi texting her about releasing a statement. She told her to hold off.

By the time she pulled up to her house. She had her manager Alex calling her about hiring a personal bodyguard. Her sisters called about what had gone down with Aunt Willa, and her mom asking if she was okay.

Nothing from her dad though

She went on twitter to see her mentions blowing up and she decided to tweet out a statement.

This afternoon was very scary as I was surrounded by strangers shouting and camera in my face. While I understand that these people have to make a living, and that I'm very blessed to have an amazing  career, there is a time and a place and that certainly wasn't it. I am okay and I hope these men learn from their mistakes.

-SW

She sent it to Heidi to look over and tweak it before posting it. Once she got the okay she sent it out as well as posted it on social media. 

She looked over at the time. Shit she forgot about the game. She quickly unpacked and put her clothes in the washer. She quickly dusted over everything while waiting for the first load. She put the game on her living room tv to catch the final three minutes. The Chargers were down by a touchdown.

"Shit!" She yelled as she ran back and forth to the laundry room.

The team was running out of time. They were getting close to the end zone with seconds left.

Then unlike the Chiefs game, They were in the touchdown.

She took a sigh of relief, at least they could go into overtime. The announcers  stated that they were going to do a 2 point attempt.

She couldn't sit, she watched them gather in the huddle.

"Herbert, looks, and throws, and HE GETS THE 2 POINTS! CHARGERS LEAD WITH 49 SECONDS TO GO!"

"WOO!!!" She screamed!! She was excited. Forget all the bullshit that happened with her family, forget the fact that she and dad might not ever speak again. This was huge. They won and played a great game.

In a good mood. She hurried up and finished the load as fast as she could. Granted it would be a while before Justin came home from Arizona but she wanted to be ready. She was turned on, she hadn't seen him in three weeks, three weeks without his touch, his smell, his moans in her ear. He was her happy place 

Her family didn't matter, she had her friends and Justin.

She ran around her house, no doubt going to be staying at his place for the week. Grabbing toiletries, lingerie, and some clothes (She would just steal his hoodies and live in them) she threw everything in suitcases. Making sure she had his house key he gave her before she left.

While she was stuck in traffic she decided to face the music and open up her text. She had one from Brent asking why her sister was bitching him out. She did feel bad about that. But she didn't think Tristan would say anything 

She quickly replied , apologizing for that one. Her mom wasn't that upset, she just wanted to know if Sara made it home and Apologized on behalf of Aunt Willa. Which was bullshit. Her sisters were upset over the whole thing and wanted peace within the family, but they understood their dad was in the wrong.

All Sara messaged was that she wouldn't speak unless aunt Willa was no longer around the family.

She didn't need that in her life. And while she was at it. She was pissed that Justin just ignored her for nearly a week. While she tried to be understanding, it was a dick move. 

The mood changed to wanting to bitch him out. Maybe it was the fight with her family, or the fact that she actually stood up for herself.

She arrived at Justin's house and began to unpack. She had picked  up pasta dishes from their favorite restaurant, not really into cooking after all the baking she did. She was pissed that she forgot those cookies.

Sara set herself up by color coordinating her shirts on her side of his closet, putting her pants in the dresser space he reserved for her. In the bathroom, she put her skincare and makeup products on the counter, though he would probably just move all her products to the plastic separators in the drawers by the sink.

Everything was set up, the food was in the fridge. She had a few bites of her food but wasn't really hungry.

It was late, and Justin should be home very soon. She wanted to wait up and make love when he came in, she was exhausted from traveling. After deciding what to wear (she settled on a sheer see through cami and little panties) she made herself comfortable underneath his sheet set and scrolled tik tok. She wished Nova was there to snuggle with her, but she was at the catsitter.  Sara almost texted Justin asking to pick her up but she wanted to surprise him. Despite the earlier paparazzi fiasco, she doubted that he saw the video.

Which reminded her, Joey did. He was one of her messages asking if she was okay. He said he saw her posts on Instagram and that made him look up what happened. She just replied that she was fine and thanks for the concern.

After a few more minutes she fell asleep.

—-----------------------☆☆☆—------------------------------

Justin was exhausted.

The win was chaotic, it was crazy.

It felt fucking good.

So good in fact, he was out to greet fans at the stadium after a shower and post game celebrations. He was talking and joking around with his teammates on the bus and plane. He didn't feel the crash until he was on his way to his manager's house to pick up the cat. He almost messaged Ashley asking to hold her one more night, but he didn't want to extend her stay and inconvenience her, though he was sure Ashley, or his cat, would have no objections

Once Nova was in her carrier with her essentials, he made the drive back home pulling into his garage; he didn't notice Sara's Mercedes. 

Nor did he notice her suitcase where she usually has it.

He was hungry, and he should probably eat something before bed.  He opened the fridge and saw his favorite dish.

Justin tore open the container and began devouring it, it was still warm like it had just been ordered. 

Which was weird. He was confused. 

How did the container of food get here?

He saw Nova sniffing around, and she darted into the bedroom. Justin's eyes landed on the suitcase.

She was here. Justin practically threw the leftovers into the fridge before following Nova, who was resting on Sara's chest. A habit that annoyed Justin because Nova wasn't a skinny girl.

Sara didn't even flinch with the weight. "Nova get off." He whispered. The cat glared at him as if to say "make me"

He did his nighttime routine, hoping Sara didn't wake up but he was so excited she was here. He was just going to text her about picking her up and she was here.

Once he was stripped down to his shorts, he slid in next to her on the bed. Nova, annoyed that her owner was here, hopped off Sara's chest, using her boob as a launch pad. That woke her up, she stirred. "Ow, what the-"

Justin threw an arm around her waist and scooted her close to him. He kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry Nova wanted to see her favorite person, didn't like it when I joined." He moved to her lips and she reciprocated for a few seconds but pulled away. "I'm mad at you."

He let out a hmm and moved to her jaw with the kisses. "Over what?"

"The bullshit you pulled last week's after the Chiefs game."

"I don't want to remember that game thank you." He pushed his lips to her neck but she pushed him away and sat up. "Well too bad because you ghosting me for nearly a week was not cool. I was worried sick."

He sat up. "I was in a shit mood, I mean can you blame me?" She shook her head. "I know you Justin, I get Sunday, maybe Monday, but I had to reach out to you." 

He sighed, knowing she was right. "You're right, I'm sorry. It was something I just always did. After a bad game. I tend to just forget and come around when I'm ready. It was not acceptable." He kissed her cheek. "Forgive me?"

She crossed her Arms. "Why should I? And what are you going to do to make sure it doesn't happen again?"

He smiled. "Well, I can send you texts throughout the day to let you know how I'm feeling."

She nodded "well that's a start. Also if you don't feel like talking all you have to do is say something. I get it, I have those days too where ya don't feel like you want to talk. Shut people out, but you can't do that one hundred percent."

He nodded. "I understand and I'm sorry." He kissed her again. "I'm sorry I worried you. I promise I will be better."

She smiled. "Thank you." She laid back down. "Not that I'm not glad you're here, but I thought you were home tomorrow. I was gonna get you flowers and all."

"I would still like some flowers, thank you very much." He laughed. "I'll get you roses, your favorite. So why are you home early?"

She thought about what transpired over the past few days. "I started a fight with my dad, and I think we are permanently estranged."

He wasn't expecting that answer out of her. "Wait what? What do you mean?"

She told him everything, all of Aunt Willa's and Uncle George's comments. Being left out, that her aunt told her she should have commit suicide. Justin wiped her tears as she told the ending. 

Justin saw red, he was pissed. How could her family be so dumb? Here was this amazing, talented girl and they said the most awful things to her. He shook his head. "You're Aunt is a fucking bitch, and you're dad has no spine. You deserve better than that. They're jealous you know that right?"

She laughed. "Please Justin."

"No, listen to me, you are beautiful, intelligent, and you know what you want out of life. You don't need anyone, you love people for themselves, and for some reason, you love a hard head like me." He wiped the tears off her face. "I love you Sara, and I'm sorry your family can't appreciate what an amazing person you are."

She was smiling through her tears. "I love you too, even though you piss me off sometimes."

He laughed. "I know I got to work on that."

She kissed him and he relaxed into it. Their tongues wrestling for dominance. Of course Justin won, he got on top of her and she ran her fingers through his hair which he enjoyed. They broke apart the kiss.

"Justin?"

"Hmm?"

"Make love to me." He smiled. "Who am I to deny your request?"

They got lost in each other, both finishing strong and breathless. He collapsed on top of her, still inside of her. Sweat stuck their skin together. "I got to get off, I'm crushing you." He tried to move but she wrapped herself around him. "I like you crushing me."

"I like crushing you too, '' he smiled at Sara and kissed her. "I'm not letting you go, I'm tying you to my bed." She laughed. "Oh like a personal sex slave. I like it."

He rolled his eyes. "Dirty girl." He rolled off her and pulled her close to him. She looked up. "Hey Justin?"

"Yes baby?"

"Are your ribs okay? I know you told a reporter that you felt them move when you threw." She shuddered. "That has to feel weird.

He laughed. "I mean it does, but it's part of the game." She nodded and snuggled up to him. Sara tried to fall asleep but she couldn't, she knew Justin too well to know that there was something on his mind. " What are you thinking about?"

"You said that your Aunt Willa told you you should've followed through on… suicide. What happened with that?"

She looked up at him and noticed the concern in his eyes. "It was freshman year of high school. I just joined the theater and was accelerating. I finally found something I was good at. Something that I loved. However, I was bullied for it by not only my classmates, but also some close friends of the family. My aunt  and uncle told me it was a waste of time, that my sisters were all doing something that would help them get into college."

She took a deep breath. "My whole life it was always. 'Well your sisters are skinny, short and athletic. What the hell happened to you? You're certainly not a Wozniak.' They would always say it as a joke. But it hurts, you know?" 

Justin shook his head. "That's not a joke, Sara. You have to stop thinking about it that way."

"My dad always said they never meant anything . If I tried to fight back I was being a brat and to never disrespect my elders. My sisters never reacted this way, so why am I causing trouble? But they never got teased like I did. It was hard, because I would go to school, get made fun of. Then go home and get told that I better get my grades in math up because real careers need that grade. There was no peace." The tears came back. Justin wiped them with his fingers. "You don't have to tell me anything if it's too hard." She shook her head. "I was just depressed. My older sisters were all in school, so I couldn't confide in them. Any friends I did have, weren't really as well off as I was, even Erika, who would tell me that at least I had a nice room and house to come home to. I was well aware financially I had everything at my fingertips. But emotionally I was lost. Plus my parents were not coming to my plays. Every event of Katie, Brittany's, or Alyssa's was celebrated. Me it was just "Oh we will go out to dinner sometime.""One night I just felt numb, it wasn't all of the sudden, I was being destructive with sleeping, eating etc and I told Erika that life didn't feel worth it. Unbeknownst to me she told the school counselor, and I was admitted for a seventy two hour hold."He held her tighter, he didn't know anything about this and it was devastating that Sara had gotten to that place. "All of that and your family couldn't see they were the problem.""It's not really my sister's fault, they weren't around, and we have a really close relationship. My mom does try her hardest, my dad and Aunt Willa… I don't know what to say about them. Alyssa's husband Brent is amazing. He's like the big brother I never had. He and my sister were  together since middle school and Aunt Willa would constantly try to tear them apart. She didn't like the fact that he's an athlete."

Justin was silent, the pieces coming together. "So that's why you didn't tell them about me."

"It's one, but not the main. My family is big mouthed. One word of a boyfriend and then dads business associates know, my aunt's and uncles know, cousins know. We have a large circle of friends that I grew up with, so they would know. Eventually it would be tipped to the press. Justin, I don't know if we are ready for thar. It's a new world."

Justin nodded and kissed her shoulder. "I understand." He smiled. "Let's run away together and buy a cabin deep in the Forest of Oregon. I can hunt, fish, and you cook and take care of our young."

Sara snorted and busted out laughing and Justin joined in. "We can move to a small-town area like Twilight. By the way, I would like to go to Portland someday." She looked at him. "Next trip?"

He groaned. "Not the twilight reference!" She laughed. "Come on, you were paying attention when the marathon was on!" He was silent. "Vampires don't sparkle in the sunlight, they are supposed to burn." He muttered. 

The rest of the night they talked about any and everything before falling asleep in each other's arms.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Now it's three in the morning and I'm trying to change your mind. Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply ``why do you only call me when you're high." Sara sang while making her omelet. Justin had left for the facility a few hours ago and Sara was going up there for a workout since no media was there on Mondays. 

She felt safe here. After their discussion about her family last night, among their childhoods and other things they were closer than ever. Granted Justin didn't have a childhood anything like hers. But they did bond over things they grew up with. (They both agreed that McDonald's snack wraps needed to make a comeback)

The sound of Arctic Monkeys was interrupted when her phone began ringing. She groaned until she saw Ann-Sophie's name pop up. She felt bad, because she hadn't seen her since Lexi's birthday party. She picked up. "Hello Miss Annie to what due to owe this pleasure too?"

"Well I wanted to surprise you, but I've been hanging out in your house for like 2 hours and you're not here. " Sara gasped. "Oh my god! I'm actually at Justin's. Come over here!" AnnSophie stayed with Sara when she visited LA. It worked out because she would have all the whole house to herself and her daughter while Sara stayed with Justin.

She was excited to have one of her best friends back in Los Angeles. Since she and Bella are models, they reside in NYC. Sometimes Sara will go down with the blonde to visit her parents in Ft. Lauderdale. Her mother was a German Olympic skier, her father was a Swedish Businessman who passed away when she was eleven, so they family had money. 

Sara sped up the process to get ready. She wondered if she could take Annie to the gym with her. She sent a text to Justin.

Hey babe my friend is in town, can she come with me to the facility gym?

J: um sure, come in a few hours when we are out on the field.

He gave her the address and the instructions. Once Ann Sophie arrived they hugged and caught up. Sara told her best friend all about her Thanksgiving weekend.  

"Speaking of the family. Where is the Queen?" Referring to little Lexi.

"She's in Florida with my mom for the week. George was supposed to take her but he's had some issues on tour." AnnSophie rolled her eyes. Sara frowned "He hasn't seen her since her second birthday in October."

"Thank you. But he has time for Charlie. I saw those vacation pictures in Mexico. Asshole." Sara thought George was able to be a father to his daughter, despite his womanizing ways that led to the breakup. Guess not.

"Well I got something that will cheer you up. Come on. I told you to wear gym wear for a reason." Sara grabbed her friends hand and dragged her out the door.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

"Good lord this is a view." The blonde breathed while they were on the treadmill, the workout facility overlooking the practice field. They saw the guys doing their drills and throwing among other things.

Sara was shamelessly ogling Justin. "I hope he remembered his sunscreen." The blonde next to her giggled. "I just wish they'd take off their shirts." They both burst into giggles like teens at a sleepover.

Then a familiar voice interrupted them. "Well who is this?" 

Sara turned around to see Joey in his workout clothes. "Hey Joey! This is my friend." AnnSophie turned around and her and Joey went still.

Joey broke the silence. "Annie?"

She smiled. "Joseph."

Sara looked back and forth confused. "You two know each other?"

AnnSophie nodded. "We went to St. Augustine together."

A light dawned on Sara. "Oh! I knew you were both from Fort Lauderdale I just didn't think…" She trailed off feeling the mood of the room change. It was tension, but almost sexual? "So were you guys friends or have any classes together?" Knowing they were the same age.

AnnSophie nodded. "Yeah, we had a couple classes, had some mutual friends but that's it." Joey laughed sarcastically.

"Yeah no big deal."

Sara was lost. She knew her best friend knew about the Chargers and Sara mentioned Joey, but surely AnnSophie would have mentioned that they knew each other. There definitely was a history there.

"Soooo." Sara trailed off. "Are you doing your rehab here Joey?"

He nodded, still not taking his eyes off AnnSophie. "Yeah, if that's okay. Justin mentioned you coming but I didn't know what for."

AnnSophie smiled. "Well Joseph don't let me stop you. I know how important fitness is to you." She looked up and down his body.. Joey smiled, eyes on her body. "Well Ms. Supermodel I know it's important to you as well. I mean you were always flexible in high school." He licked his lips.

Sara wanted to burst out laughing but she also wanted to leave. She turned up the speed and began a light jog. Joey turned his back towards the girls and began his stretches. He was wearing a form fitting quick dry sleeveless tank, long blonde hair pulled back by a headband. Sara had to admit he looked good.

AnnSophie couldn't take her eyes off his body. Sara just wanted to break the tension. "So Joey, how is Kailey? You haven't told me how your date went."

She quickly realized that was not something to say. Her friend sort of woke up from the daze she was in and began to pay  attention to her phone.

Joey continued his focus on his workouts. "It's going well. I guess you could say we are steady. She was over my place last night." He turned to Ann-Sophie. "I want to Congratulate you and your boyfriend on your daughter. I'm sure she's beautiful." 

Either Joey was aloof or he was trying to see if she was in a relationship. "Well thank you, but I'm raising her, her sperm donor only comes around when he wants to look like a good dad in the papers." She was blunt about it.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that.  I'm sure you're doing a great job raising her by yourself."

She nodded. "Damn straight, it's just me and her." 

Sara wanted to look into a camera like it was the office.

The rest of the workout was awkward, it turned into Joey teaching the girls some of his football workouts. They were all on separate mats following Joey's instructions for weights when Justin walked in. He was lost. "What's going on?"

Sara got up. "Joey is teaching  me and Annie workouts. AnnSophie, you remember Justin." She nodded towards him. "Hey Justin, how are you?"

"I'm good, thank you. Well I just wanted to see if you made it here okay. I tried texting you but…. " He trailed off. Sara wanted to tell him. "Justin, show me where the snacks are. I need a refuel."  She grabbed his hand and led him to the hallway.

"Has Joey mentioned anything about knowing AnnSophie in high-school?" Justin shook his head. "No. Why-"

"It turns out they went to the same high school and apparently they knew each other.  They are Trying to play it off but something went down between them." He shook her head. "It's like he suddenly forgot about Kailey when I asked him."

"Who's Kailey and how do you know about that?"

"He was texting me asking for advice about a first date. We exchange messages." This wasn't how she wanted to tell Justin, but it had to come out.

His eyebrows raised to his hairline. "Oh. I didn't realize you two were close." She shrugged. "Just over music and products." She kissed him. "Nothing to worry about. It's your dick I suck." She laughed as Justin's cheeks turned pink. "Fucking dirty." He groaned. "As long as you're just friends, " She nodded."I promise. Now help me get down to the bottom of this."

He smiled. "Babe, I'm not asking about his high school crush or whatever she was." She pouted and he mimicked her teasing. 

"Sara!" They turned to see AnnSophie coming  towards them. "Um Stephanie called she has time for training if you want to go."

Justin was confused. "Training for what?"

Sara smiled. "I'm walking the fenty runway in January!"

"That's great babe! I'm happy for you!" He was proud of his girl. He knew she struggled with body image so he was a little worried about putting herself on the line like this. But now was not the time or place to voice those concerns.

They said goodbye, with number 97s eyes on their backs.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Why was Bosa texting Sara?

It was on his mind while watching videos. He remembered the barbecue where Joey was very obviously attracted to her. So what was that about? How long had he been doing this? And what was said in those messages?

As they finished up meetings and practices he felt himself staring at the defender the entire time. He wasnt a confrontational guy, however this was eating him up.

He approached Bosa by his locker. Joey looked up. "Oh hey Jus-"

"Why are you texting Sara?" He cut straight to the point. The defenseman was confused. "I messaged her on Instagram because she's cool, and I consider her a friend."

 Justin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "So you mean to tell me there was no flirting?"

Joey looked down at his shoes. "Well I would try, it was more of teasing. But this was before I knew anything was serious, I thought you were still seeing Taylor as well."

Justin was mad, but also confused. "What made you think I was still seeing Taylor?"

"I mean, she was coming around all the time acting like you two were still an item. Sara never reciprocated anything. Just liked posts. I told her about Kailey when you guys were in Oregon just asking for date advice. That was the end of it."

Justin nodded. He was pissed but he felt like it wasn't justified. The time of the barbecue was when he was still sorta leading Sara on. Granted, he wasn't involved with Taylor but still. Without another word to Joey he walked out of the locker room.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Training was getting a bit easier. Between the weight loss and practicing she was starting to look like a runway model. Of course AnnSophie who was an actual model and walked for plenty of designers was graceful with her catwalk. Not to mention she was 5'11 so she was able to swing her hips.

Practice ended a bit earlier because her friend had gotten a call from her mother saying that Lexi was running a high fever. Sara hoped it wasn't too serious for Ann-Sophie to fly down to Florida. She didn't really get to spend much time with her, especially since her God daughter was born.

They decided to meet up for lunch and shopping the next day and Sara headed to the grocery store and some other errands before going  back to Justin's. She was surprised to pull up and see his car in the garage. Practice must have ended early.

Hands full, she entered the kitchen and set the bags down on the island. Justin was on the couch watching television. She smiled when she saw his favorite impractical jokers. She walked up behind him and kissed his cheek. "Hey baby."

"Why didn't you tell me you texted Bosa? And that he was flirting with you?" 

Oh shit.

What could she do? Tell the truth. "It was early on, like little jokes. I never responded to it."

He turned towards her, his face hard. "But you acknowledged it was flirting, and didn't tell me."

She sighed. "I thought I had it under  control. Plus he's your teammate, I didn't want to come in between you. He has Kailey now."

Justin stood up. "So let me guess this straight, you go behind my back with a teammate and don't think it's important to tell me."

She felt ashamed. "I didn't mean to, I swear. When it first started that was when we're in this fragile place. I turned to him for support. It was shitty and wrong and I'm sorry." She walked over and grabbed her phone out of her bag. She opened Instagram and threw the device on the couch. "Here look at it."

Justin stared at the phone. Feeling guilty, she was telling the truth like Bosa was. "When you say you didn't want to start a conflict, is that because of what you've been taught by your family?"

She nodded. "I guess. I'm not perfect at relationships either. This is new to me as well"

He smiled. Her using the exact same line he gave her. " I'm still annoyed but I get it. I can't get mad."

And he really couldn't because he realized he was a dick during that time. Also there was the incident with Taylor.

Sara smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm insecure and I'm sorry." He smiled down at her. "We grow and learn from this, you know? If we ever have an issue we talk it out." She nodded. "If Joey texts me again, you'll be the first to know." 

He nodded. She continued. "Mike sends me memes on Instagram. I might do a video game session with him?"

Justin was stunned. "Wait a minute, I thought you only watched me play video games?"

She giggled. "I can only play super Mario smash brothers and kiddie games. I'll watch the other games." Justin smiled. There was still so much to discover about his girl.

But he trusted her, and he wanted to find out everything.

—----------------------------------------------------------

"So, you want to tell me what's going on with you and Joseph?" Sara mimicked her friend's voice as they unpacked their large sushi order. They decided to order takeout and go back to her place after seeing the large amount of paparazzi out and about. They managed to snag a few photos of the girls but that was all. Sara was glad she put some makeup on. Of course AnnSophie, despite being dressed down, still looked glam in all of her designer clothes.

"Sara please. I told you we went to high school and had a few classes. That was it."

Sara decided to be bold. "Then why did it look like the moment I would walked out the room yall would have fucked all over the room?"

The blonde choked and coughed on her roll before taking a swig of tea and glaring at Sara. "I was just ogling him like you were Justin?"

"That's different, he's my boyfriend. You two, there was some history there. He wanted to rip your clothes off."

AnnSophie looked down at the food. "We had a bit of a fling in high school." She admitted. 

Sara's jaw dropped, not actually believing her friend admitting it. "No fucking way! I can't see it."

AnnSophie was shocked. "What do you mean?"

"Well he always said he got teased for his big nose."

There was a sly smile on the blonde's face. "I wasn't complaining when I sat on his face."

It was Sara's turn to choke on her food. "Get the fuck out! How come I never knew this!"

AnnSophie shrugged. "I didn't really tell anyone." 

"What happened?"

"I left high school to move to NYC to pursue modeling." There was another reason. Sara knew her best friend too well, but she didn't pry.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Peeping out the peephole she opened the door to see a big purple box with "Savage x Fenty on it.

"Ooh look at it!" She grabbed the box and was only able to push it so far. It was heavy. AnnSophie got off the barstool as Sara tore it open and reviewed an extensive amount of purple glitter and packaging before uncovering all the different lingerie sets. "This is what we must be wearing at the shoot and the fashion show!" It was lace with leather. There were some practical everyday sets but some incredibly sexy.

Smiling, she told AnnSophie her Xmas gift for Justin. Her friend volunteered to photograph and coordinate the plans. She could do Sara's hair and makeup and turn the basement into a studio.

It worked perfectly because no one knew about it except her friends.

Oh yeah it was foolproof.

A/N: So the Joey thing, I have an idea for a spinoff so the drama between his friendship with Sara will be minimum. They are good friends and that is all, Joey has a change of heart, especially after seeing Annie again.

[searidings]

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

-

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

-

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

-

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

-

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

[hollywoodbabylondean]

@transnaturalweek DAY 2: coming out

Claire never had many clothes since entering the foster system. Part of it was some parents' reluctance to buy girls' clothes for her, part of it was the fact she'd often come back to the group home bloody, but mostly it boiled down to what she'd been told time and time again was her greatest flaw, the reason she never got permanently placed. She ran away. Every time. It started off small, truly, it did. Kept just enough distance because she remembered Sam Winchester's words painfully clearly in her mind. There's no going home. There will always be demons after you. And there were. She learned that the hard way when her first foster father got possessed and tried taking her to Crowley. Ever since.

After Dad left, she never felt at home. Not with Amelia, certainly not with Gran, which was the reason she ran off in the first place. She never felt like she belonged anywhere, until she met Randy. Randy wasn't the perfect dad, but he was good enough. He called her by her name, called her a girl, so what if she had to steal for him? Nothing in life comes free. And definitely not acceptance. And so what if he couldn't buy her new clothes? Girls' clothes didn't have pockets. Girls' clothes with flashy patterns and colors drew security cameras.

And after... everything with Randy, it was just easier to live on the road with the other clothes, with thicker fabric and sturdier make. She pushed whatever discomfort she had to the back of her mind. Some things were just a matter of survival, living on the streets.

Until Jody took her in. Talk about a fresh start. The first night was rough. Early on, she didn't like Alex, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual.

"So, I can get you set up at the high school. You haven't graduated, right?" Oh, yeah. That was one of the first things parents at new homes started her on. Getting her set up at a new school.

"Actually, I dropped out a while ago." She didn't offer new context. This was temporary until she could start hunting, anyway.

"Okay. So, we'll deal with that some other time. First, I need your medical history, your allergies, stuff like that, so you're going to have to call your caseworker."

"I really rather wouldn't. Uh, I got a minor concussion when I was eight. I tripped into a doorknob. And I was kidnapped and had a brain injury when I was 12. I can handle medications on my own. I'm a good worker, or whatever."

Jody sighed. "You know, things were hard with Alex when she came in. She didn't want to trust me, either. I'm not trying to be your mom, here. I'm just trying to help out however I can. Dean said you're a good kid."

Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes. Dean said. What does that lumberjack fuck know, anyway? Well, if shit didn't go well, there's always the next town over. Or whatever. She's good at taking off. She chewed the inside of her cheek and let her nails dig into her palms, the cracked black nail polish long flaked off. "Well, I'd rather you hear it for me, anyway," she grumbled. "I wouldn't really say this, but if you're going to pay for my medical bills. I'm trans. I'm on HRT. Uh, I'm still a girl, though. Woman. Whatever. So, like, you know," Claire made the air quotes and recited a spiel she had for the LGBT group at her high school she still snuck into despite not attending the school itself. "She/her/hers pronouns. They/them if you're feeling fancy. If it's a problem, just let me know. I can leave, tell Dean things just aren't going to work out here."

Jody nodded and guided her to the kitchen table and sat her down. "Thank you for telling me, Claire. I'm not kicking you out, okay? I can get you set up with a doctor, whatever you need, so you can get whatever you take up here. Now, what's the clothes situation?" She looked over at the two duffel bags Claire had. "Do you need anything?"

Claire had only gone shopping with her mother once she came out a couple of times. she didn't know what it was like to go shopping as a mother and daughter, really. "Yeah. I'd like that."

[juliathephantom]

JATP Fanfic Recs: Multichapter Edition

* indicates complete

'Stupid Cupid, Stop Hitting On Me' by Bluefire510

Juke

Luke, a troublemaker cupid, meets Julie, who is also one of Love HQ's toughest cases to crack.

She claims to have no desire to fall in love.

But Luke is always up for a challenge.

Let's see if he could get Julie to fall for her Perfect Match by next Valentine's Day.... and maybe teach her all about love while he's at it.

*Operation Hashtag Rulie by where_you_go

Reggie/Luke/Julie

“Explain yourselves,” Caleb ground out.

“Uh…it’s not what it looks like?” Reggie tried, wincing.

“Oh really, Reginald? Because it looks like two of my most popular band members from a family-friendly band are fornicating in public!”

-

Julie and Reggie get caught up in a PR misunderstanding that leads to them "dating" for a few months. It's not a big deal, or at least it wouldn't be, if Luke would stop acting so weird.

*Unexpected by Phantom_Lover

Luke is determined to breeze through his senior year and onto mega stardom (which means avoiding school, and Principal Lessa, as much as possible). That is until he's forced to work side-by-side with quiet good-girl, Julie Molina, on the big end-of-the-year talent show. The two struggle to see eye to eye, and meeting the all-important deadline seems impossible until something unexpected happens between them.

keys to the cage (and the devil to pay) by HearJessRoar

Juke, Willex

Julie Molina has always thought it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate.

Unfortunately, she's right.

"Julie, Julie Patterson, I'm a maid here in the governor's household," she bluffs. And she wishes that Luke's name hadn't been the first that she'd come up with, because the long-haired pirate's eyebrows raise immediately.

"Luke got married?" he says, sounding oddly betrayed.

His blonde companion looks equally gutted. "He didn't even tell us."

Piss Off Your Parents (Date Me To Scare Them) by TheNameIsBritney

Willex

Alex Mercer doesn't want to go home for Christmas; but if he has to, he's certainly gonna raise a little hell. Enter: Willie, the cute guy in his history of English class who would be the perfect fake boyfriend candidate.

So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you're all grown up. If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby then you're in luck.

*i'll hold your music (here inside my hands) by musicals_musicals

"Your soulmate must love music just like you do”

Julie is 3 years old, enthusiastically playing a small plastic piano, the first time she sees her string.

It makes sense that music would connect her to her soulmate.

or

How Julie finds her way back to music, joins a band, falls in love, and meets Luke Patterson (not necessarily in that order)

*a masterpiece in motion, more beautiful every day by fairylightsandrainydays

Willex, Juke

Alex Mercer is a merboy with a fascination for the human world. Willie is a prince who he saves from a storm. And Caleb Covington is the sea witch who is going to make Alex's dream come true.

So long as Caleb gets what he wants.

*days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter) by itsagamefortwo

Juke

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to re-find the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run high. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

Who Could Deny These Butterflies? by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx

Juke

“I know this is going to sound kinda crazy…but, could you maybe pretend to be in love with me for a few minutes?”

—

When Julie Molina approaches Luke Patterson at a bar and asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend, she never expects to find herself in a position where she and Luke have to keep up the ruse for longer than five minutes. Figures that out of all of the strangers she could have approached that night, she’d gone and picked the one guy who just so happens to be in a rock band that’s on the brink of blowing up.

*relight that spark by @ruzek-halstead

Juke

julie molina has had nothing but a tough life. after losing both her parents early on, she was left in the care of her step-monster karen and her two step-daughters. while working at her late father's diner, completing household duties and being at karen's beck and call at all hours, julie was well on her way to getting accepted into the college of her dreams and having enough money to move out.

and then one day she received a text message from an unknown number. it started out innocent, crossed wires based on a flyer she put up three years ago.

this is the story of julie molina and her prince charming, and everything in between.

i never saw you coming (and i'll never be the same) by ruzekhalstead (@ruzek-halstead)

Juke

julie molina, a new student to uc berkeley, secures a job at a tiny, run-down grocery store, where she meets a group of people who inadvertently become some of the most important people in her life.

there's nothing like suffering in the workplace with your co-workers to solidify a bond.

a look into julie's life in a brand new city, as told by the customer service experience throughout the months.

an oddly specific grocery store au that no one asked for but i'm writing anyway to satisfy my brain

*Love Drunk by captainkippen

Juke

Thirty-two missed calls. Fifty-eight texts waiting. Over one hundred various social media notifications. A deep sense of foreboding took over. Julie swallowed. Slowly, she lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Flynn… what happened last night?"

After a night out in Vegas, Julie and Luke wake up to find themselves married. Hijinks ensue.

*So that's how it happens by echocharm (@echocharm17618)

Juke

But it had to be today. Julie had this crazy feeling in her stomach. Not nervous butterflies. More like fireflies that were trying to zap her (Do fireflies electrocute people? She should google that). It felt like that moment her parents spoke about all the time. The day they met. And when they first spoke to each other. Her mom always says that an intense zap went through her whole body.

Are you new or nervous? Julie has been waiting a (short)lifetime to hear those words be said to her.

She walked down a few more steps in the auditorium and found a spot. It was one of the few seats left in the room that wasn’t all the way up in the back. She sat down and settled into the uncomfortable, hard, plastic chair and took a deep shaky breath. The prof was nowhere to be seen. But there was a cute boy in the seat next to her. He had sort of long brown hair that was covered with a grey toque. And he was wearing a cut off t-shirt and you could see his very nice arms. Julie’s breathing was still shaky, and his attractiveness wasn’t helping the situation.

*we're too young to know things like love by Ephemeral_Joy

(@lydias--stiles)

Juke

The various ways and situations people notice the connection between Julie and Luke, whether that be a close friend or a complete stranger.

(started as a 5+1 fic and then i kind of went rogue. oops.)

*and i know i've kissed you before, but i didn't do it right (can i try again?) by Ephemeral_Joy (@lydias--stiles)

Juke

Some things just can't be fixed with a song.

(Julie and Luke break up.)

*The Infamous Tale of Luke and Julie's Grand Trip Across America by Ephemeral_Joy (@lydias--stiles)

Juke

In any normal situation, Luke wouldn't let this random girl hitchhike with him across America.

Then again, he wasn't normal. And neither was she.

(or: the roadtrip!au no one asked for)

*We Found Wonderland by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK (@pink-flame)

At the end of season one Julie isn’t able to save the boys and they are jolted out of existence. But what if there was another way? Julie finds herself back in 1995 with a chance to stop the boys of Sunset Curve from ever dying at all. But will she be able to find her way home afterwards? Will she want to? Or has Alice really gone down the rabbit hole this time...

A Moment of Quiet Conversation by JackONeillisTheMan

Juke

Julie and Luke talk about how he was the one who introduced her to rock. Then just fluff, more and more fluff.

*Feels like I've opened my eyes again by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK (@pink-flame)

Juke

After the whirlwind her life has been since the boys showed up it’s not that surprising that Julie would be a little tired. But is it normal that she’s more exhausted than she’s ever been? With Nick acting weird, Alex and Reggie both wrapped up in their own problems and her relationship with Luke still a big question mark, she has her work cut out for her if she’s looking to sit back and relax.

Basically my ideas and speculation about what season 2 might hold, or at least some of the things I would like to see.

find the strength, find the melody by sunset_phantom

Juke

An AU in which the boys are alive, Julie has been kicked out of her music program, and she somehow ends up falling in love with Luke in three days while he simultaneously brings her back to her first love of all: music.

after silence, wake me up by Vargynja

Juke

Julie hasn't been able to make music after her mother's death. She lives in New York working as an assistant for Luke, working hard to move forward in her career.

Luke finds out he's about to be deported back to Canada. A panicked lie leads them to fake a relationship to get married so he can stay in the country. Despite working together for two years they aren't close but a trip to Alaska to visit Julie's family might change that

Based on the premise of The Proposal (2009)

[oreoambitions]

Part 9 of 12

Parts 1-3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 5.5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Ao3 “It’s me,” Alex murmurs. Her voice is all but a whisper and still it sounds too loud in the empty stairwell of Kara’s apartment building. Alex feels like an intruder, like a stranger, like she’s suddenly stepped into an unfamiliar place of worship, and the quiet isn’t helping any. Her footsteps feel heavy on the stairs, her very breath clumsy and inconsiderate as she climbs.

Maybe this time won’t be like the other times. Maybe this time…

She lingers at Kara’s door with her hand raised to knock, and she listens. Knocking, of course, is a waste of time. If Kara is here, she’s already aware of Alex’s presence. And if she isn’t here, well, knocking on the door certainly isn’t going to summon her back. Alex knocks anyway, winces as the sound of it seems to thunder in the silence, strains her ears for anything, anything at all.

“She’s not here,” Sam says from the stairwell. She tosses Alex the car keys as she makes her way down the hall. “I parked us a couple of blocks down. You ready to go in?”

Alex shuffles a little and looks away. “Give her a minute. Maybe she’s got headphones on.”

“Alex. She’s not here.”

Alex knows this already, knew it before Sam dropped her off at the curb, knows it even as Sam gently takes Kara’s wedding bouquet so that Alex has both hands free to fumble with the keys. She knows it even without Sam’s x-ray vision or the super hearing, but it was nice to indulge in a little wishful thinking for a moment. A moment or two longer would have been nicer. She pushes the door open, and she pushes the thought aside.

Kara’s apartment is almost exactly as it was the night before she left for the cabin in the woods. A little dustier perhaps, and a little tidier. Alex has had increasingly less to do on her weekly visits, and so the throw pillows on the couch are meticulously straight and the handles on the coffee cups are all pointed the same way. Anything to prolong her time in this place where she can imagine that Kara has just stepped out. She’ll be ducking through the window any minute now, brushing something off the sleeves of her super suit, flashing Alex that cheeseball grin before she superspeeds into a pair of pajamas for movie night. Alex can almost see it all play out as she steps into the empty apartment. Almost.

Sam settles the wedding bouquet into a vase with steady hands and a studious expression, the perfect counterpoint to Alex’s trembling fingers and anxious wandering eyes.

“In the bedroom, you think?” she says. “That room gets the least light…”

“Sure,” Alex replies. She doesn’t rehash the argument they’ve already had about the flowers, though the tension of it lingers thick in the air. Sam feels that having the bouquet preserved was a gift, something Kara will be grateful for in time. Alex fears it’ll be the thing that sends Kara running again as soon as she returns, and she knows the fear isn’t rational, but then, neither was Kara the last time they saw her.

“Don’t forget about the succulent in the bathroom window,” Sam calls as she makes her way down the hall.

“Right,” Alex mutters. She nudges open the fridge door. Nothing has expired yet, but she and Sam have brought fresh groceries anyway. All of Kara’s favorite foods to rotate in, and they’ll take the old with them to be sure it isn’t wasted. And if Kara comes home - when Kara comes home - it’ll be one less thing for her to worry about. That’s all Alex can do about any of this now.

“How was Lena this morning?” she asks when Sam wanders back into the living room.

Sam makes a noncommittal sound. “She’s been better. Been worse. Can you hand me that tumbler?”

“I heard about the perjury trial.”

Sam hesitates at the sink just long enough that Alex doesn’t quite believe her when she says, “Clark will handle it.”

There’s a long silence between them then. Sam waters the plants and Alex considers echoing her reminder about the bathroom succulent but the words die in her throat as she wipes imaginary grime out of Kara’s spotless fridge. Rotate in a new carton of milk, a carton of eggs. Sam brushes dust off the door frames.

“Maybe she’s on Argo,” Alex suggests for the hundredth time.

“She’s not,” Sam says.

“Well what if she-”

“She’s not.”

She isn’t. Alex knows this, has been caught up on the details around Kara’s hastily suggested engagement to Ren-Ar, understands the implications of her decision to marry Lena anyway. It may be a long while before Kara can show her face on Argo without causing a scandal big enough that Clark and Sam would have heard about it even from Earth. Alex tries not to wonder whether Argo will still cooperate when it comes to protecting Lena from the law.

“We should check the Fortress again,” she says.

“Clark was there this morning. No sign of her. Kelex is still saying she hasn’t been around since before the wedding.”

“She could have asked him to-”

“Alex.”

Alex bites back the words I’m sorry because Sam will only tell her not to be. “It’s been six weeks,” she says instead.

“I know."There’s another stretch of silence. Alex thinks she’s beginning to hate silence: the silence growing between the two of them, the silence in Kara’s apartment, the long silence over the coms line she keeps open for Kara all the goddamn time. Simon and Garfunkel were onto something when they said ‘silence like a cancer grows.’ She stands in the kitchen under the unbearable weight of it wishing there were something left for her to do here, and there’s nothing. There’s just Sam emptying the tumblr into the last of Kara’s houseplants, brushing a spiderweb from the windowsill as she goes.

"Lena still thinks she’ll show up to the gala next weekend,” Sam says. She doesn’t look up as she says it.

“Kara?” Alex doesn’t know why she asks. It’s not as if they could be talking about anyone else, but something about the way Sam refuses to look at her draws the question out of her anyway.

Sam shrugs. “It’s Lena’s first big public appearance since their marriage was, uhm, exposed.”

“Fabricated.”

Sam shoots her a look then, brief and meaningful. “Exposed. Lena thinks Kara will make an appearance just to keep the press from noting her absence.”

“The press has already noted her absence from the entire planet.”

“Well, that was before there was a perjury trial on the horizon.”

Alex lets out a long breath. It’s absurd to suggest that Kara might be more concerned about the press seeing her with Lena than she is about the world seeing her in National City, but the more Alex thinks about it, the more she follows Lena’s line of thought. Sam has been here to wear the cape in Kara’s absence, and she’s done a passable job for someone brand new to the whole beacon-of-hope gig. But she can’t protect Lena from the press; only Kara can do that.

“You’ll text me,” Alex says. “Right? If Kara shows, you’ll tell me right away.”

Sam licks her lips, her eyes on the floor. “Actually, I was hoping you’d be there.”

“You want the DEO to run security?”

Sam laughs at that, and she looks Alex in the eye at last. “I didn’t say the DEO,” she says, and her tone is warm and still full of laughter in a way that makes Alex’s stomach flutter. She wants to look away, fearful somehow that Sam will see the nerves in her, will see her desire and affection and it will be too much. But Sam’s gaze holds her in place.

“I’m not exactly National City high society,” Alex says, tugging on the lapel of her leather jacket for emphasis. “And I’d make a terrible undercover bodyguard.”

“You do clean up nice though,” Sam comments, and Alex flushes. She flushes even worse when Sam adds, “You’d clean up even better if you’d let me do your hair.”

Alex does look away then. “Nobody touches the hair,” she mumbles.

Sam is suddenly close. Too close for someone who was just watering a plant clear on the other side of the apartment not half a second ago, and Alex wonders absently whether there was a super power involved in their sudden proximity. She looks up just in time for Sam to brush a daring hand across her cheek and through her hair and fuck. If there’s an Earth where she never stops doing that, Alex would like to go there.

“Nobody, huh?” Sam says.

Alex swallows, but no clever quip passes her lips.

“That’s a shame,” Sam continues, twisting a lock of Alex’s hair between her fingers. “Because I was hoping you’d be my date for the evening. Got a dress picked out for you and everything.”

Alex stumbles right over the word 'date’ and lands on, “You want me to wear a dress?”

Sam half shrugs, and then she locks eyes with Alex so intensely that it almost feels like a challenge. “Do you want me to wear a suit?”

Alex’s internal monologue is replaced by a distant warm buzzing as her gaze drops to Sam’s mouth. “Yes?”

“Good. Then that’s settled.”

And just like that the moment passes. Sam scoops up the bag of groceries rotated out of Kara’s fridge and pantry and starts towards the door. Alex stares after her for a long moment and then has to hurry to catch up before it’s awkward. Sam did say 'date,’ right? As in the two of them, together, possibly with romantic intentions, possibly-

“Alex,” Sam says without looking back. “The keys.”

Still on the kitchen counter. Fuck. In her defense, there are other things on her mind.

[owl-with-a-pen]

Here to request again! Brainy and Nia ice skating, cute date prompt

- I'm sorry this is so late! But I hope you enjoy! x

It was official, Kara freezing over a whole lake was by far the coolest thing Nia had ever seen her use her ice breath for.

After the stresses of the last few weeks had finally accumulated to unbearable levels, it had become clear that the Super Friends were in need of a serious break. Somewhere that they could all go out and just relax. No Tower, no emergencies, no crime fighting and certainly no Super Friends. Just friends. Hanging out. Having a good time.

Everyone had agreed that they didn’t want to be cooped up indoors anymore, so karaoke or game night had been quickly removed from the equation. But, with the weather growing gradually colder, Kara had suggested a fun, day-time alternative.

In all honesty, Nia hadn’t expected that suggestion to be ice skating - and she really, really hadn’t expected there to be no rink involved.

She hadn’t exactly skated much in her life. Roller blading, sure, but Parthas hadn’t had a rink, and the only time she’d ever ice skated had been at a friend’s birthday party out of town.

If memory served, she’d fallen on her ass a graceful count of twelve times.

But, that was years ago. Besides, she was Dreamer, now, right? If she could master combat training with Brainy, or throw electrified energy across a room, then how hard could skating be?

The second she’d stepped foot on the ice, she got her answer.

“Don’t let go, okay?” Nia asked for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon.

She’d been circling with Brainy around the outskirts of the lake for about an hour now, though with the little progress she’d made, it felt way longer than that. The grassy verge was right by her feet, and if she lost her balance, she knew that it’d be right there to cushion her fall, but she didn’t want to give up.

Alex and Kelly had been skating a little ways away, passing Nia and Brainy by every so often, holding hands, smiling and laughing, looking all couple-y. They could both skate well enough that neither one relied on the other to remain upright.

Nia couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened by that.

As she’d expected, Brainy was a natural when it came to ice skating. A skill that took balance and perfect form to master should have been a dead giveaway that she’d be skating with a pro; but, of course, he couldn’t exactly showcase those talents while he was stuck at her side, acting as the stabilisers to her proverbial bike.

And, Kara? Nia should have known that Kara would have been an expert at this, too. Although, Kara was spending less time on the ice and more of it trying to encourage Lena to come out and join them. Lena, however, had insisted she was perfectly happy to watch from the side lines, book sat comfortably across her lap.

Nia half wished she’d done that, too. But, now that she was out on the ice, she was not getting off until she’d at least figured out how to move in a straight line without risking serious injury.

Not that she was worried about getting injured. Brainy’s hand had remained on the small of her back the whole time she’d been on the ice, holding her posture in place, the warmth of his fingers secure against her spine. His other hand held tightly to her arm, helping to guide her forward, encouraging her to drag her feet in more natural motions to the ones she’d started out with.

“You’re improving,” Brainy noted with clear approval, a gentle smile in his voice. “Soon, you won’t need my guidance at all.”

Nia forced a smile of her own, trying her hardest to keep focused on the ice ahead of her. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she muttered.

“Are you sure?”

And, just like riding a bike, Brainy let her go.

Panic ignited in Nia’s chest the second she watched him disappear from her peripheral.

“What?” she squeaked. “No, no, Brainy, don’t let go! Don’t let go! Brainy!”

Nia threw her arms out ahead of her, which she realised a second too late was not a good idea. The whole action only threw her already teetering balance to the precipice of disaster. In vain, she tried to hold herself in the posture Brainy had been teaching her, locking her knees together at the last moment to keep from tripping face first into the ice. She was half inclined to use a bubble of dream energy as an emergency stopper.

She needn't have worried. Before she could even summon her powers, Brainy had swooped in around her again, using his ring to lift himself from the ice just enough that he effortlessly caught up to her, landing just inches ahead.

Nia made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeal as she knocked into his front – her own personal braking system.

She grabbed a hold of his chest, laughing into the fabric of his sweatshirt. “That was low,” she said.

“It worked, did it not?”

“Yeah! If by worked you mean nearly gave me a heart attack.” She laughed again, still feeling a little giddy from the adrenaline rush. Out of curiosity, she turned her head, quirking an eyebrow at the ground she’d covered. “Well, hey, look at that. At least I conquered straight lines.”

“Would you like to continue?” Brainy asked seriously. His hands slotted around her back, securing her to the spot when her foot slid a little too far out from under her. He lowered his voice. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want to?” Nia asked dubiously, glancing back towards him. “I’m guessing it’s not that much fun being my instructor.”

“On the contrary,” Brainy said, squeezing her tight. “I find it very fun.”

Nia looked up at him then, so taken by the sudden warmth in his eyes. She’d been so worried that Brainy hadn’t been enjoying himself that she’d nearly missed it, that excited look he got whenever he taught her a new move in combat or witnessed her improve upon a dream ability in real time.

He really was enjoying himself. Just by being by her side.

That realisation caused something to stir in Nia’s chest, swarming inside her stomach like butterflies. Maybe it was the chill of the ice talking, but something was telling her to lean in just a little closer - enough that she could feel Brainy’s breath graze her lips, so warm and inviting against her skin.

She closed her eyes, digging her fingers into Brainy’s sweatshirt, feeling his own hands tighten against her in response.

“Guys, if you’re going to make out, please do it somewhere you don’t get in the way!” Alex called out, jerking Nia from the moment all at once.

Alex was stood behind them, the whole rest of the lake totally empty had she really wanted to get past. Nia gritted her teeth, spinning around to glare at her. Alex only smirked, raising her hands in fake surrender.

“Oh, like you weren’t doing that with Kelly, like, five minutes ago!” Kara said as she shot past Alex on the lake, dousing Nia in an icy chill. “Do you know how difficult it is skating around you two? At least Brainy and Nia keep to the sides!”

Alex stuck her tongue out at her sister, of which Kara returned with matched enthusiasm.

Nia rolled her eyes, turning back to her boyfriend. Brainy still looked a little flushed, and from the heat still warming her cheeks, she figured she wasn’t doing much better.

She glanced down, taking Brainy's hand in hers, squeezing tight. “Alright, Wildcat. I’m ready,” she announced. “Let’s keep going.”

And hey, if Brainy could help her explore further from the lake's edge, maybe they could find a spot that would be way harder for Alex to intrude on.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is part two of our mpreg Louis fic rec list. The first part of this rec list was done a while ago and can be found here. Happy reading!

1) Always Coming Back To You | Explicit | 4749 words

Harry's been missing Louis for eight days, and eight days without his Omega feels like decades in his pre-rut state.

Louis happens to come back to him earlier than planned.

2) Through The Storm | Mature | 6497 words

Note: This fic has no smut, but it is MPreg Louis so we included it.

Harry and Louis' marriage has hit a rough patch. A much needed week vacation in Jamaica just may be the second chance their relationship needs. What could possibly go wrong?

The answer?

Everything.

3) You Can Show Me Your Heart | Explicit | 6935 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Everyone knows about the unsinkable Titanic, which tragically did just that in April of 1912. However, not many people know the story of the Carpathia - the ship that raced to rescue and aid the survivors of the Titanic when the distress call came through. This is the story of the events leading up to the luxury liner crashing into an iceberg on that fateful spring night. More than that, this is the story of how two of Carpathia’s passengers - Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson - met, fell in love and helped over 700 people in the cold Atlantic water.

4) Cooking with Styles | Explicit | 9119 words

Anyone can cook— or so they say.

5) Something To Prove | Explicit | 9425 words

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

6) We Will Get Through This | Explicit | 11219 words

Because of quarantine, Louis has to stay home with his roommate, Harry, who he's never really hung out with before. He's a sweet alpha who seems to really care and that annoys the hell out of Louis. But as he gets to know the alpha, he realizes it might not be dislike that he's feeling.

7) Easily | Explicit | 13588 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Years later, Harry and Louis are as strong as ever and more than ready to take the next step in the story of their lives. It gets a little weird, a little confusing, but at the end of the day, it is as easy as can be.

8) Baby Honey | Explicit | 14744 words

Note: The pairing in this fic is Alex/Louis.

When the next great war strikes, all alphas have to ship out. Alex leaves a little more behind than some of the others.

9) The Post-War BP | Explicit | 17732 words

The eight year war has left the country's birthrate severely stunted with a lack of virile alphas left to bring it back up. To ensure the survival of the country, the government opens The Breeding Program where young omegas can apply to carry an alpha's child in exchange for benefits.  Louis' family is struggling and the BP is one of the only ways to secure a roof over their heads.  Harry was drafted at the age of eighteen and spent six years of his life defending a country he doesn't recognize when he returns home.  The government made the bed but it's Harry that has to lie in it.

10) Souls; Plural, Parallel | Teen & Up | 19679 words

Note: This fic has no smut, but it is MPreg Louis so we included it.

Soulmates are rare, the sort of rare that means everyone has a story about a friend's sister's coworker or a brother's roommate's cousin. But the fact of the matter is that most people never meet theirs. It's unfortunate then, that Louis finds out the hard way that he met his soulmate in a club, and the guy never texted him back.

11) Be Mine, Dear | Not Rated | 20104 words

It really wasn’t fair. He was the oldest of all of them. He’s the one who dreamed about being bonded his whole life, while Liam laughed at the idea, until he met Sophia. Niall had always been indifferent, but when he met Heather six months ago, everything changed for him. He quickly went from being the only omega around two alpha’s, to the odd omega out. And it really wasn’t fair, because Liam and Niall both still protected him just as much as the did before, just as much they do their new mates now, but he was still bitter about it, so he’d pity himself as much as he wanted.

12) Oops, Baby, I Love You (In That Order) | Explicit | 25344 words

The minute Louis Tomlinson decides he don’t need no man to start a family, Harry Styles literally falls into his arms.

13) I’m Having Your Baby (It's None of Your Business) | Mature | 26383 words

A bet can cost you a lot. Harry learns this in the weirdest of ways.

Louis just wanted a baby, and he got so much more.

14) The Things I'd Do To Wake Up Next To You | Mature | 36109 words

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

15) If I Stay | Mature | 37226 words

Harry and Louis agree to a temporary arrangement that Harry can't seem to walk away from no matter how many times he tries.

16) You Put the Sun in Sunday | Mature | 42319 words

Louis is a love-brainwashed-teenager of hope drenched in dreams, clad in oversized clothes damaged with holes, and standing waist-high in novels. Harry is a selfish closeted football captain with a head too big for his heart, and a bad habit of not thinking before he opens his mouth. No one ever said love was easy, Louis learned the hard way.

17) Flash Forward (We’re Taking On The World Together) | Explicit | 44273 words

In which Omega Louis and Alpha Harry are absolutely perfect for each other and say I love you too much.

18) Every Story Has Its Scars, Ours Is A Brand New Start | Mature |  62859 words

Life as a devoted husband and an amazing father turned out to be a little different than Louis had expected. Everyone tells him it doesn't have to be that way; that he's worth more and that he's so much stronger than any one person trying to keep him down. It's all just words though until he meets the one person who makes him truly believe it.

19) Such Good Luck | Explicit | 66205 words

An Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

20) Things I Can't | Not Rated | 67495 words

Louis has a plan for his life. He’s going to be the first in his family to finish college. He’s going to be a doctor - the best damn doctor in the country. And he’s going to work his ass off to make sure his younger siblings never have to wonder whether they have the means to pursue their dreams.

He doesn’t have space in his plan for a relationship with an effortlessly alluring musician, and certainly not for the child that unexpectedly results from that union. Louis is at a crossroads he never thought to plan for, and now he must make a decision: between what he wants now, and what he wants most.

21) I’m Still Learning To Love | General Audiences | 74695 words

Note: This fic has no smut, but it is MPreg Louis so we included it.

An AU where Harry has almost everything in the world except for the will to move on.

22) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

23) Fucking Animals | Explicit | 116688 words

Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don’t necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she’s just settling for less, is bullshit.

But, fucking hell.

24) Be My Omega | Mature | 138372 words

It all started when the alpha laid eyes on the short curvy omega and he knew at that moment that his life would never be the same, in a good way of course.

25) Cold Little Heart | Teen & Up | 194600 words

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child. A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham. Louis really could use the help.

26) Love Me Until The End | Mature | 207130 words

AU where Louis, an Omega, is the head nurse of the hospital in charge of running the nursing staff. Harry, an Alpha, is a highly respected surgeon working at the same hospital. They also happen to fall in love.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[themanicmagician]

Shipwrecked [2/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

Tom felt a knot loosen in his chest. Relief washed over him. Redd was awake and lucid, and feeling well enough to quip.

But then Redd kept talking.

“This is your bedroom?” Redd shifted, leaning his back against the mattress. He scanned the Spartan room, and his nose scrunched up in distaste. “It’s so....basic. Not your style at all.”

Tom hated the small speck of him that still yearned for Redd’s approval. He crossed his arms. “You’re hardly the expert on what I like.”

Tom’s words landed—he saw Redd wince—but the fox brushed it off, and changed tack.

“Where’d you sleep, then? Futon?”

“Couch.”

Redd patted the bed, and leered. “Could’ve shared with me. It’s plenty big enough. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Enough, Redd. You’re only here in my home because I possess common decency. Nothing more. As soon as your arm is healed, you’re gone.”

Redd clutched at his chest with his good arm, in mock agony.

“Oh babe, you can be so cold!”

Tom ignored him. “What possessed you to attempt to sail a ship, of all things? You don’t have any experience.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was simple enough to figure out.”

“Obviously it wasn’t.”

“Hey, the storm wasn’t my fault.”

“You could have died—and for what? Another stupid scheme of yours, no doubt.”

“I resent that remark. Scheme! Scheme, he says. I’m out here because I’ve developed a new business venture. The art on my boat is real.” Brief alarm skirted across his face. “Wait, what happened to my things?”

“They’re in Blathers’ custody.”

“That featherbrain can’t keep them. They’re real, you know. I had this whole plan. I was going to go island to island. Animals are so suspicious these days. They actually want to inspect the merchandise before they buy, can you believe it?”

“I don’t want to hear about this.”

Redd plowed on, as if Tom hadn’t spoken. “—and once they placed an order, I’d say oh, you can’t take it right away. I have to ship it to you.”

“And you’d mail them a fake.”

“I’d mail them a replica. The copies that I paint myself are flawless,” Redd bragged. Greed and delight glinted in his eyes. “You’d never be able to tell the difference. I’ll wager you 5,000 bells your pal Blathers wouldn’t, either.”

“I can’t believe you,” Tom snapped. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Why tamper with perfection?”

“You—ugh!”

Tom stomped out of the room.

Timmy and Tommy were right outside, evidently listening in. They jumped guiltily as Tom caught sight of them, and tried to look busy; Tommy folded a blanket and draped it over the back of the couch, as Timmy collected up used cups to put in the kitchen sink.

“I’m going out for a bit.” Tom told them, as he pulled on a jacket. “Stay here, and make sure he does too.”

The Nooklings chirped an affirmative.

May was cold and rainy this year, and today proved no different. Tom zipped up his jacket to ward off the worst of the chill. It was misting out, but not badly enough to justify an umbrella.

Tom didn’t have a destination in mind, exactly. He wasn’t going to Resident Services today. Isabelle was certainly capable of taking the reins for a day or two. Tom just needed fresh air, just needed to clear his head.

Redd hadn’t changed at all. He hadn’t grown, he hadn’t learned anything. He was still the same as he ever was—greedy, selfish, conniving. And utterly, absolutely, insufferable.

There had been moments, before, when he had lived on the mainland, when Redd frequented his town. He’d considered reaching out. But he’d never scraped up the nerve to do so. It wasn’t his responsibility either, he’d reasoned at the time. Tom was the wronged party. Redd should have been the one to approach, not him.

And now the decade-long silence between them was shattered at last, and Redd acted as if there had never been a massive fracture in their relationship, as if nothing at all had changed. No apologies, no remorse, not even a thank you for the rescue.  

“Mr. Nook!” Flurry trotted up to him. “I’ve heard the news. How is your friend doing today?”

He supposed there was no hope of keeping it quiet. Any speck of news spread through Bastion like wildfire. Isabelle, bless her heart, was an incorrigible gossip.

“Redd is doing much better today, thank you.”

“I wanted you to give him something from me. Just to borrow, powderpuff!” She took out a book from her pockets and handed it over. It was an old leather-bound book, a collection of fairy tales. It was worn with age, but evidently well cared for. “I don’t know if it’s to his taste or not, but I always read it when I’m sick and it cheers me right up!”

“Thank you, Flurry. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Redd wouldn’t, but Tom would never let the sweet hamster know that.

He continued his walk, and soon found himself on the beach. He followed the shoreline around the island until he reached the outcropping of rocks by Del’s and Lucha’s houses.

Tom knew what to expect, but the sight was still jarring. The hull of the boat was gouged on the rocks. Half of the vessel gaped open. The mast was snapped off at its base, and the sail, long lost to the tides. Tom stepped on the rocks to get a closer look. The remains of the boat had been secured to the rock by rope; Alex and the others, presumably, had been the ones to anchor it.

Tom peered inside the exposed hull. The boat was tilted at an angle. Barrels had rolled to one end of the ship. Several had smashed apart in the impact. Tom winced. How badly had Redd been thrown in the crash? Had he been above deck, or below?

There didn’t appear to be anything of value left inside the ship. The villagers had done well removing all the fragile artwork.

Enough of the boat remained that they wouldn’t have to build Redd a new boat from scratch, at least. The boat would have to be patched up for Redd to travel. The seaplanes weren’t built to transport someone from Bastion all the way out to the mainland.

Tom swept a critical eye over to the wreckage. Yes, they could rebuild it in several weeks, once the necessary supplies were gathered. He resolved to speak with Alex about it. If she could gather the needed materials, he’d reduce the price for her attic expansion as compensation.

He returned home with the intention to cook breakfast for the Nooklings and their guest. But as he removed his shoes in the entryway, he overheard Redd’s drawling voice. And the twins were conspicuously absent from the living room. He padded quietly over to the threshold of his bedroom.

The first thing Tom noticed was that Redd was now wearing one of his spare shirts. The floral patterned green and white flattered the fox’s fur. It was a size or two too large on him, and not his usual type of outfit. Something warm and possessive tightened in his stomach at the sight of Redd wearing his clothes.

Redd was back in bed, propped upright with the support of pillows. Timmy and Tommy were sitting on the bed as well, listening raptly to their guest. Redd was in his element as entertainer, gesturing enthusiastically with his unbroken arm as he spoke.

“...it was our third pitch of the day. Tom had persuaded me to paint wallpapers for high-end clientele, so the meeting was at this real swanky place. Very stylized lobby we waited in, minimalistic in style but in an expensive way, you know? Your Uncle Nook was sweating so much his fur looked a shade darker than normal. We were sitting there, waiting for half an hour after our appointed meeting time. And finally, finally, someone shows up. It wasn’t even the investor! It was some scrub, some assistant of an assistant. Tom was so nervous, he promptly bent over and spewed his lunch all over her expensive shoes.” Redd laughed.

Tom flushed. It hadn’t been his finest moment.

“But then, do you know what your uncle did?” Redd whispered, conspiratorially.

“What, Mr. Redd?”

“...Redd?”

The boys leaned in closer, eager not to miss a single syllable.

“Tom still managed to salvage the situation. He went right from wiping off her shoes to pitching her a new concept—scented wallpaper. Smells like lemon, pine. So if something like this happened again, at least no one would smell it!”

“Wow! Did they invest?”

“...vest?”

“Even better—they bought the concept and patent from us. All the reward, with none of the work!”

“Boys, wash up for breakfast.” Tom broke in.

The twins broke into beaming smiles at the sight of him. They sprang off the bed to crowd Tom, both talking a mile a minute.

“Uncle Nook, is it true that you won a manufacturing contract by arm wrestling the CEO of Cozy Couches?”

“—did you really start a new city fashion trend wearing your scarf as a belt?”

“—have three drinks named after you?”

“Redd likes to embellish.” Tom explained, exasperated. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

Redd pouted.

Once the boys reluctantly filed out of the room, Tom shut the door. He crossed over to Redd and offered him the book of fairytales.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” Redd inspected the book. He grimaced at the faint mug stain on one of the pages. “Not a first edition. Far from excellent condition. You  really  shouldn’t have.”

Tom grit his teeth. “It’s not from me. A villager has loaned it to you. If it goes back to her with so much as a dog-eared page…”

“Alright, sheesh. Just messing around.” Redd set the book on the bedside table, evidently uninterested.

“Listen to me, Redd.” Redd looked up in surprise at Tom’s low, serious tone. “You cheated me. You deceived Lyle. But if you think—”

“Hey, Lyle wasn’t—”

“If you think,” Tom spoke over him. “For one second, that I’ll allow you to manipulate Timmy and Tommy, you’ve got another thing coming. I have resources now. More bells in the bank than you’ll ever see. If you ever hurt them, I’ll make you regret it. Are we clear?”

The boys were guileless, innocent. He would not stand for Redd swindling them.

Redd deflated, his previous energy visibly dimmed. His ears flattened back on his head. He looked away from Tom, and nodded.

~*~

“Where are we going?”

“Like I told you the last twelve times you asked, it’s a surprise.”

“I’m going to trip on the sidewalk and break my nose.” Tom grumbled.

“You won’t.” Redd promised, with a rumbling laugh. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It had been six months since their first meeting, in that sketchy motel. Ever since, they’d hardly left each others’ company. Tom’s ambition was to build a furniture and home goods store. It would be unique in its approach, in that stock would be limited, and rotate daily, so animals would feel compelled to go to the store every day, just in case there was something they needed. Redd, an entrepreneur himself, was on board. But before they could begin such an enterprise, they needed bells, and loads of them. They’d taken the past half a year to build up their finances together. They’d done so not through conventional jobs, but through countless pitch meetings, patent sales, and even art commissions. They’d amassed enough now that their dream was looking more achievable by the day.

Tonight Redd had tied a black bandana around Tom’s eyes and led him from their apartment. Tom’s heart was doing somersaults in his chest throughout their entire walk. Redd had been furtive, secretive the entire past week. He’d been planning something, and Tom had a big hunch on what it could be.

“We’re here.” Redd announced, at long last. He unknotted the bandana. The cloth fell away from Tom’s eyes, and he gasped.

It was an older two-story building, wedged in between a pair of larger, newer ones. It was built of ruddy red brick, with floor to ceiling windows for display purposes. Tom glanced around. They were in a nicer part of town. Not the wealthiest neighborhood by any means, but one fairly busy, that had animals with bells burning holes in their pockets.

“It’s ours.” Redd withdrew a keyring from his pocket. “If you like it.”

“You—how?”

Redd winked. “I have my ways.” He held out the keys and gave them a shake. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

Tom took the keys with reverence. He felt as if he were drifting through the clouds as he glided to the door. The front door key was newly cut, firm in his palm. Tom unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

“The register could go here.” Tom circled around the corner of the back wall, nearest the door. He paced around the cavernous empty room, imagining as he went. “Heavier furniture in the back as well. Some eye-catching, lighter things near the front that can be rotated daily. Things like wreaths, tapestries—oh, and what if we hang strings of lights from the ceiling? It’d create a real welcoming, homey look.”

He turned back to Redd for his input. His face was flushed with enthusiasm.

Redd had been watching him from the doorway with a complicated, unreadable expression.

Tom’s grin faltered. “Redd?”

The strange look fell away from Redd’s face, replaced by his customary smirk. He sauntered closer.

“Your instincts are excellent as always, Tom. I was thinking of a mural, too, for the back wall.”

“Oh, that’d be great! What are you thinking? A city skyline? Or something more nature-inspired?”

Redd’s arm slid around Tom’s waist with easy familiarity. His paw squeezed Tom’s side. Tom barely muffled his squeak. They’d been together for five months of the six, and Redd’s casual displays of affection still flustered him. Back home, no one had ever looked twice at the plain, chubby raccoon.

Redd’s muzzle brushed his ear. “We can hash out the details later. This calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”

~*~

The doorbell jingled overhead as Tom stepped inside the Able Sisters’ store. Sable took a single look at Tom before she was bustling him into the back room of the shop.

“Keep an eye out for customers, Mabes.” She called over her shoulder.

Mabel mock-saluted her eldest sister.

“Sit.” Sable all but pushed him into a rocking chair. He remembered this old thing from the sisters’ first home. The quilt draped over the back of the chair was familiar too, if a bit more threadbare than he remembered. Tom was struck by a wave of gratefulness that all of his dearest friends had been so amenable to picking up their lives and moving to Bastion with him.

Sable placed a gray kettle on the stove, and retrieved two mugs from a cabinet. The mugs were lumpy things, rather sloppily painted. Mabel had made them by hand when she was young. Tom had his own original Mabel creation stored in a cabinet back at his home.

“I wanted to speak with you as soon as I heard, but I had too many shirts to sew, I couldn’t get away. I know that’s not much of an excuse, though.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m handling everything just fine.”

Sable raised one eyebrow.

“I am.” He insisted. Redd had been subdued after Tom had warned him off about the twins. He ate the food Tom cooked without complaint, allowed Tom to check his injured arm without any protest, save the quiet hisses of pain he couldn’t quiet. They’d lived together in uneasy harmony for a week, now. Redd spent most of the day in front of the TV, or idly flipping through the book Flurry had lent him.

“How have you been?”

“Fine. Redd hasn’t been putting up too much of a fuss.” She was staring at him, too keenly. “What?”

She took a moment to muster up the words, paws twisting in her lap. “Tom...I don’t want to see you like that again.”

Tom waved his hand, as if to banish the ghost of that awful moment. “You won’t. He can never hurt me again.”

Sable’s doubt was palpable.

“I don’t care about him anymore. I don’t. And I...I used to hate him, I admit it. I used to loathe him. But I’ve moved on. I don’t trust him, and I pity him, but I don’t feel anything strong for him, hate or love, anymore.”

“You don’t sound as convincing as you’d like to be.” Sable said.

He was saved from having to respond as the kettle whistled. Sable rose to fetch their tea. She added the sachets, a drizzle of honey to her cup, three lumps of sugar to Tom’s—after all this time, she hadn’t forgotten how he liked it—and carried the mugs over.

Tom held his mug between his paws, waiting for it to cool enough to be drinkable. The pleasant scent of Earl Grey wafted up to his nose. He inhaled.

“If Redd tries anything, I’ll punch him in the nose.”

Sable, gentle, demure Sable, spoke with such a steely assuredness that Tom started. She smiled shyly at him.

“I mean it.”

“You’ll have to get in line. I have first dibs.”

Sable giggled.

~*~

Tom headed back home, feeling lighter than he had since this entire thing started. He and Sable swiftly left the topic of Redd behind them, and spent the better part of an hour catching up.

The boys saw him through the front window of the Cranny, and waved enthusiastically. He returned the gesture, albeit with less energy.

Tom then climbed the stairs and let himself into his home. Redd was no longer where Tom had left him that morning, slouched on the couch. The TV was shut off, the house almost eerily silent.

“Redd?” Tom eased open the door to his bedroom. The fox was absent, but the bed was neatly made. He checked the twins’ room, the bathroom—both empty.

Redd was gone.

[am-imagines]

Legendary 4.5 Morgan!Reader.

Being up at night is kinda your thing. It was like that even before everything.

Still, things became worse after the accident. Sometimes you lay awake in bed, feeling lost and unable to breathe. You don’t really cry, but the pain consumes you like a fire until your lungs burn. It’s then you wish with everything you are to wake up, to be in a world where she’s still there. It hasn’t happened yet.

Sometimes you wake up gasping, the remnants of a nightmare mixing with the real world in a blurry mess. The pain turns into rage, endless anger against the world. Those nights you need to walk or work out  in order to avoid the downward spiral. Many times you’ve stared into the abyss, fully conscious that a bad decision can take away whatever is left from you.

Finally, there are nights like tonight. You wake up and the world is too quiet while your mind is too loud. Your phone says it’s barely past two am. You only managed a couple hours of sleep and exhaustion is still very much present. Nor a surprise really, but you won’t be able to sleep again. There’s practice in the morning so unless you find a way to rest, things don’t look particularly exciting.

“Scoot over.”

“What?”

Your head snaps up towards the voice of your best friend. You can only see her silhouette in the darkness of the room. There’s no need to see her face to know she’s rolling her eyes at you with your lack of understanding.

“Move, Morgan. I’m not gonna stand here all night.”

Apparently, your body complies before your mind can process exactly what Janice wants. You move and she slips under the covers, pulling you close to her before you can try to complain. This is something you haven’t done in a long time; a hand on your waist is enough for your shoulders to relax a bit and you sigh in contentment.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper after a second, “didn’t mean to wake you up.”

A scoff is the thing you get as an answer. Janice knows you don’t do it to bother her. There are some things you can’t control, and she has always been there to make it better one way or another. Her slight annoyance is at your need to apologize, to take the blame for things you can’t be blamed for.

Still, she holds you tighter.

Your bad sleeping habits aren’t something new, but they haven’t been this bad in a long time. So, she worries. She does so because Janice is your best friend; you’ve been attached by the hip since you were born and it’s no wonder she knows you better than anyone else.

“What’s going on, Y/n?” She asks quietly.

Right then and there it’s the two of you with no one else to judge you. You’re safe and comfortable enough to open up to her, to share what’s in your mind and the things that make your heart heavy.

“I’m trying to let go.”

At some point everything you’ve been bottling up was bound to come crashing down on you. Crying on Sonnett’s shoulder can’t fix everything, you’re aware of that. But it’s a breaking point, the realization that you can’t keep going as you were without it taking a toll on you.

You built walls to protect yourself, to not feel the pain even when you were choking on it. And instead of keeping the sorrow out, you were drowning on it.

Your team came knocking on the door then. They threw you a lifesaver and opened a window to let all of that pour out. Taking care of the aftermath is on you, to put the broken things back in place and get rid of those that simply can’t be fixed.

It’s not easy, but it’s necessary.

Trying to process your emotions during the World Cup is perhaps the worst timing. It messes up your already screwed sleeping schedule, but well, it’s not always too bad. You’re learning things about yourself you didn’t know before, and rediscover those you forgot.

You’re becoming a better you instead of the shell you were so adamant on being.

You weren’t alone after Alex died, but the place you had considered your home was nothing more than a house. Suddenly, soccer was the sport Alex loved and little more. Sure, it was an escape, but also a prison; leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You want the world to see you as more than just her daughter. At the same time, you don’t want them to forget her. Not when she did so much to inspire a revolution for equal pay, respect and overall appreciation for the sport. Not when her name is associated with the highest honors; world cups and Olympic medals, golden balls and boots and MVP’s.

Not when she means everything to you.

“You don’t have to let it all go.”

Some things might not be perfect now or ever, but they’re still worth holding onto.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“I know it’ll take some time still, but...you’re alright, Y/n. I promise.”

You mean to keep the conversation going, instead you yawn and rest your head on Janice’s shoulder. If her arm gets numb, she’s gonna have to shut it, or unceremoniously shove you off at seven am as you realize when you wake up abruptly.

You only open your eyes long enough to glare at her.

“Jerk,” you mutter lovingly.

“Go back to sleep, Morgan,” she retorts with a good natured laugh.

It’s a very, very, tempting offer, but you fight it off for another second.

“Thank you.”

Your words are almost silent, but you know she heard you when she pats your head. You’re already half asleep when you hear her answer.

“Got you.”

*****

“Oh my God! Is this how a fully rested Y/n is like?” Janice pants while trying to keep up.

“Yup.”

After practice ended, you stayed behind with one of the coaches for some extra work. Then Janice decided to join along with Press, Long and Krash. Before you knew it, the whole team had additional training. However, all but Janice yielded at the forty-five minute mark; too tired to keep going.

“I’m so not sleeping with you again then.”

“You could’ve left with the others,” you taunt.

“As if. Someone has to keep you in check here. Otherwise you’ll work out till tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

You doubt anyone can last that long, but you’re one of those that would probably try. It’s not the hill you wanna die on so you smile sheepishly at Janice when she makes another remark.

“Last five minutes?” You ask.

“Yes! Thank God!”

You can’t help but laugh at Janice’s antics. She’s still her usual self, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You slow down in those last minutes, to get your breathing and heartbeat slowed down gradually before stopping.

“We should visit the zoo.”

“Pretty sure I’ll only be visiting my bed after this.”

“Not today, you moron.” You say rolling your eyes. “But you know, next day off?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Finally getting off the stationary bike, you stretch before downing the rest of your water battle.

“Come on. It’s time for the ice bath.”

“Hasn’t this been torture enough?” Janice asks dramatically.

“Hurry up, O’Hara. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“If I don’t kill you first.”

“Oh, shut up. You love me.”

“Sadly.”

*****

“This is the most challenging match this team will face in the group stage. Germany was a tough challenge, but going against the host of this World Cup will tell us the chances to advance through the next round. Australia has grown while the USA went to less, and they’re the contenders for the title. If the USWNT wants to win it all, they have to go through this team first.”

“We must also consider the player rotation the USWNT will have on this game. That will certainly add to an already complicated game.”

Your heart beats along with the music in your earphones. It’s a way to keep your nerves at bay before you can finally make it out of the locker room. You’re on the bench for the day, but that doesn’t dwell your excitement of the game.

“Listen, guys!” Sonnet calls as you group around her and Pinoe. “We know the Aussies are good but so was Germany. So was Brazil, but we got the results we wanted. This won’t be different. We’re part of the group of death, and we’re conquering.”

All of you nod and cheer in agreement while Pinoe takes the lead.

It’s wild to say but you’re the underdog of this competition. However, this position allows you to be the dark horse.

No one expected you to win the first two games.

No one expects you to win against Australia.

No one really believes that you can win the World Cup. Not yet.

But you’re here, ready to fight to the last minute and the last breath.

“You already know what you gotta do on the field, now it’s time to do it.”

Five minutes later the team has elected Krash as the captain once again. With one last cheer, the starting lineup make their way to the tunnel while the rest of you head to the bench.

   “The final fixture of the group phase is here! And what a match it is. I think we can all agree that not having Morgan in the line-up is a surprise. Even with the much needed rotation on a tournament this important, you’d expect to see their best scorer on the field.”

“If there’s nothing stopping Y/n from playing, she should be in the game. Australia is far from an easy match, and maybe this is a sign of overconfidence from the USWNT. Their group is the group of death and even when they’re practically through with a tie here, they can’t get complacent now.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for some soccer!”

The pace of the game is fast, so fast that some players can barely keep up.

Australia is the home team, they have all the advantages here, but even when they press high and seem to have the USWNT team cornered, they can’t get anything past Harris.

The goalie proves time and time again why she’s the captain. She brings security to the back of the field, and it’s there where everything begins. The defense get their heads on the game, stand tall to every onslaught and soon enough just a few balls make it through; none of them dangerous.

Then, the midfield does the same, pressing and recovering before launching forward. The game generation starts in a moment’s notice, guided by Sonnett giving instructions from the sideline. Everyone follows the plan, and soon enough they’re playing at top level.

Australia can’t get close enough, but neither can the USA.

At some point, Megan calls you to sit next to her. You do so without a word and for a long moment neither of you say anything. You watch the game in content silence.

“You remind me a lot of her,” she suddenly says.

The unexpectedness of her words forms a knot on your throat and you have to swallow harshly. Pinoe pretends not to notice, giving you a moment to compose yourself. She rarely talks about Alex; this is hard on her too. You can see it in the way her jaw clenches.

“It’s not just how you look or how you play. I know Harris is the captain, but you’re the heart. You help your team when they need it most, and they listen to you. More than that, they believe what you say.”

You listen silently, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, but it’s the good kind of emotion.

“Alex had this fierceness in her, not a bad bitch like Kelley,” she adds, making you chuckle. “But she had a fire about her. Sure, we all wanted to win every game. But not like her. I was there in her first World Cup and I knew, I just knew, she would be something special. And I’m sure she would have been so, so proud of you. You have that same fire, Y/n. And just like I was in her first, I am in yours. You’re also meant to do great things, something special.”

“Coach, I...”

But you have no words. You struggle not to break down in the middle of the match, but you manage. Barely.

“Don’t care about what the fucking world tells you, kid. You are every bit her daughter. But you’re also every bit yourself.”

Those two concepts are not exclusive, you can be both. You are her legacy, but that doesn’t stop you from creating your own. It starts here, with this World Cup. You have to prove, not to others, but yourself, that this is where you want to be.

No, this is where you belong.

“Whatever happens, you’ll enter at the sixtieth. After half time, you’re up to warm up right away, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, let’s keep pushing.”

*****

“That’s the end of the first half! It’s been a rocky game so far. Australia is a very competitive team. They have speed, agility, and a lot of talent on their ranks. But I think we’re seeing a USWNT that knows how to play each match. Even without Y/n on the field, they were able to keep the game even.  I see potential on this team, but will it be enough to win it all?”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. They’re not losing, but they’re not winning either. There’s still forty-five minutes to go, and several matches on this World Cup if they want to do something really meaningful. There’s a long road ahead if they wanna be anything like the Golden Team.”

You take a deep breath once it’s your time to warm up.

The rest of the world fades away as you crack your neck and Janice soon joins you to start. You’ll be the first two substitutions. You wanna strengthen the midfield and push forward with absolutely everything you have.

Maybe Alex isn’t physically there, but she’s in everything that ultimately makes you, you.

You warm up and remember when you joined your first little league team, with Alex holding your hand as you jumped around in excitement. You remember your first cleats with the same colors you wear now; a Christmas gift that made your eyes shine with awe.

You remember training with her when you had an important match in highschool and going out for dinner no matter the result.

Alex always had your back and now it’s not different; her number is now yours. As yours is the responsibility to continue what she started more than two decades ago.

She gives you strength and when you finally wait by the sideline to enter the game, you let go of the fear. You let go of the anger and even most of the pain.

It becomes a dull ache that you doubt will ever go away completely. But it’s better than the overwhelming grief you’ve carried on your shoulders all this time. You let go of the doubts and accept that they’re looking at you hoping to see a bit of the magic she had.

You’re not completely sure if it’s the same even after Rapinoe words. But you have magic, not just as individual players but as a team, and you’re here to prove it.

You look at Australia and don’t see them as the host anymore.

This is the World Cup. This turf is your home. You came here to stay until the end. And it wouldn’t matter if the World Cup was in Russia, South Africa, Japan or Argentina. The World Cup is your place. Soccer is your language, and lucky for you, is universal.

“Morgan has entered the game. What can she do with limited time?”

Australia’s defense is solid like a wall.

You…you are a wrecking ball.

A fistbump is exchanged with Janice and you take your place waiting for action to resume with a corner kick in their favor.

The whistle blows and the ball soars straight into Krash hands. You exchange a look and a nod with her before rushing up.

You enjoy the rush of adrenaline, pat one of your teammate’s shoulders on your way to the midfield and they understand to follow as you run past them. It’s something simple, quick and effective that draws the entire team into action.

The best way to wreck their defense is to use their offense against them. A high speed counter attack and they have no time to react. You see Long with the ball on the far right, she sees you on the left and you know exactly what’s going to happen.

Her pass is flawless as you enter the box from the left into your mother’s favorite definition zone. You see the last defender get lost in the play while the goalkeeper tries to close the angle. And she closes it, if you were to shoot with the right foot.

However, your mother had a saying.

Practice the left.

The goalkeeper has zero chance to stop the ball as it finds its way into the net.

  “That’s a goal! And what a goal it was. A magnificent shot from Morgan that could simply not be stopped.”

“She had created the space, and she didn’t waste it. It was a fantastic play from end to end that gave Australia no time to react. And I think we all saw a goal in true Morgan fashion with the first ball Y/n touches after being subbed in. With only fifteen minutes to play, I feel that this team is close to being group leaders.”

“What will this mean for them?”

“In the big picture? Little. But it’s a better chance facing the next round. They have some big names, and they got some big results. However, for a team with so much story as the USWNT, nothing but the title of Champions can be considered a Victory.”

“Do you think they have what it’s needed?”

“...Maybe.”

The team is all around you in a matter of seconds and you jump into Harry’s arms. Her assist was just sublime and you wouldn’t have had a chance otherwise. So you hug her tightly while everyone else cheers.

It’s just one goal, but in a game that has been so close and with little opportunities, it can very much mean securing the last three points.

But you keep pushing. You keep trying. There’s no way you’ll leave victory to chance when you’re close enough to grab it with both hands.

In the end, one goal is enough. The game ends and you get the win to go into the next round as group leaders. More than that, you feel like titans in a world of heroes. You’re ready for the glory, and there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get in your way.

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part one ~ caught sight of her ~

(part one)

A/N: I wanted to write this for awhile. It’s the first fanfic I’ve ever written so it might not be amazing, but I hope it’s good and that you enjoy it! I will be getting some of the English aspects wrong (sorry).

Summary: Alex is not the kind of man (if given the chance) to steal another man's girlfriend. Or is he? 

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Set in 2020. Mentions of the Budweiser Bug. (Sam is an OC)

Word Count: 2.5k

It was a warm and late afternoon.

There was a short break in the clouds and the sunlight streamed through to bounce off his sunglasses, as he walked the pavement.

It was a warm and late afternoon – teetering on hot.

Alex wore his white Gucci button-up which was fantastic for not attracting heat. Still there were noticeable wet spots under his arms. For each street closer he was to his apartment building he quickened his pace and rolled his shoulders back. Adjusting – so that the cloth might peel off from his skin without him having to directly pinch it out from his armpits. Alex did not like being sweaty – but who did?

Despite how he might have felt about crowds or said crowds looking at him, he more often than not enjoyed the loudness of his expensive shirts, his california twink shorts, even his odd hair colours (if applicable). What these preferences said for his personality was anyone's guess.

Maybe he was secure enough in his identity to enjoy things that are deemed as classically feminine. Maybe he was making a statement on the gender binary, or the expectations of traditional masculinity.

Maybe he had stared into the darkness inside long enough that he could not bear having to see it outside as well. Or maybe he liked pink – thought it complimented his cool skin tone or his lip colour.

Which it did.

One street from his building, Alex picked up his feet and sped up. He reached the front entrance; his hand went for the door handle and – WHAM!

Alex grasped at his nose, which had connected first with the glass of the door as it swung out. There was no red on his hands as he drew them back to check, but there was a general throbbing radiating out from the middle of his face.

From above him, a man asked, "Shit, you alright there?" His voice was rich like a slice of peanut butter cheesecake drizzled in a chocolate sauce of genuine concern. While he spoke, the man dropped the large cardboard box he was holding – it hit the ground like it weighed well over seven stone – and sidestepped out from the other side of the door.

"No. Yeah. Fuck, give me a moment."

"I could get you ice or something, maybe?" The man held his hand out in the air at an odd distance from Alex’s left shoulder, hesitant it seemed to touch him.

"It's fine." His eyes spotted the hand, then the discarded box. It was wrapped tight in tape, across the top was written STORAGE in permanent marker. Alex gestured to the building and asked, "You moving out?"

"Moving in actually, I just grabbed the wrong box by accident. Maybe one of these days I'll learn how to read." He bent over and picked the box up.

"Well, I'm Alex. 205"

"Sam. 305." (a floor above) "Everyone calls me Sammy."

How to describe Sammy. Picture an elk – a blond elk. A majestic beast for sure. Picture that and then make it stand on its hind legs and also be a person. He had a naturally muscular build and an evident dedication to a workout regimen – not too intense like three or four times a week.

Everything about him appeared likeable, charming. Certainly, it was his voice. As well as the goofy smile, how he carried himself ~the confidence~ and how he held a comfortable amount of eye contact.

Alex gave a polite smile. In the pit of his stomach something was building – he had not eaten in at least ten hours – a feeling like optimism. Surely, if he were courteous and pleasant now, perhaps this new neighbor might be less willing to lodge noise complaints against him later on.

"You look strong." Sammy cleared his throat before continuing, "There's a couple-three more boxes left I got to bring up. And a sofa. I'll never be able to get that thing up myself. You're heading up, right? You wouldn't mind helping, would you?"

"No. No—I mean, yes. I will help you." It was a class rendition of George's commentary stutter.

"Great! I got to get the truck unloaded before the game. You're really doing me a solid." Sammy's smile widened to be a bit open-mouthed – like that of a dog after being told it was a good boy. He led Alex to the other end of the car park, to the truck, the sofa, and the boxes.

Alex stood waiting – as Sammy crawled into the truck bed – to help ease the sofa out. He tried to get a good hold around the back of it as it sprung out at him. Sammy pushed on his end, putting a lot of unjustified faith into a stranger.

He did not hear a complaint from Alex, just a string of strained grunts.

Sammy hopped out – boots hit the ground, and he took over the lifting part of moving furniture while Alex acted more as a guiding hand.

Walking toward the building, Alex shouted across the sofa, "Who you cheering for tonight?"

"Newcastle! Who else? Best there is in the whole sport far as I can tell."

A bark of a laugh shot from Alex's mouth. "I've got someone you have to meet."

Hanging around Sammy – for the time it took to maneuver the sofa in/out of the lift and to retrieve the remaining boxes and haul them up – was not not enjoyable. It was comfortable.

Alex did not think about the manual labor he had been tricked into doing; instead, he was preoccupied with chattering on and on as both rode the lift up. He answered all Sammy's questions – about the building, the people, the area.

He rinsed the other man for his team preferences and his truck – despite Alex himself not being able to drive. And while there was a lot of damning material for Sammy to 'fire back' with, he did not.

With arms shaking slightly under the weight of the last medium-large sized box, Alex went on with his lighthearted ribbing. And Sammy just laughed along. Even snorting once.

"Not even joking – are you a comedian or something?"

Alex beamed. "Or something."

Both men had a chance to rattle off some horror stories of the absolute shitholes they had rented in the past.

DING of the lift doors opening interrupted a rant on neighbors who complained about the littlest of noises, which Alex continued after stepping into the hall.

Then, it was done. The last boxes were set on the floor of the bare-walled apartment. What was Alex meant to do now? Leave? Hang around? Ask for a drink?

It was not like he was desperate for friends, just that Sammy was genuine, and it never hurt to have someone to ring up to accompany him on a night out or if Alex ever got evicted again.

Sammy dragged out a dramatic sigh as he straightened up, leaving the last box he had carried up – labeled DISHWARE – next to the sofa. Raising his arms above his head, he stretched out his back. Alex might have done the same, but he was conscious of the absurdly damp state of his underarms.

"I'm having friends over for drinks and to watch the game," Alex began. "Maybe a few rounds of FIFA afterwards. You should come – if you want, or not. There'll be money on it, and I tend to lose a lot."

"You just helped me move a sofa up three floors, shouldn't I be the one offering you something?" Sammy slapped Alex on the shoulder perhaps harder than he meant, perhaps not taking into consideration the size difference.

"There's nothing I need."

"Well, it sounds fun. I'll be sure to come round! And I'll—"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

A young woman stepped through the apartment door while her gaze held an intense focus on her wristwatch for too long. Like it does not take anyone who knows how to read a manual clock that long to figure out the time. She was looking at it just to look at it – to look preoccupied.

Shoulders a bit rolled in and posture a bit poor, she took five steps in and closed the door before even looking up. She pulled her head up from her wristwatch.

Upon seeing the space, her eyes brightened and shined. She gasped a small (not surprised but delighted) gasp, smiling big. And—and—oh.

OH.

OOOHhoho. Oh.

Oh, no.

Alex caught sight of her, and he was gone.

And it was not that she was perfect. No, she was not the airbrushed model of the advertisements on the tube. No. She was her, and it was ~ugh~ it was almost indescribable. It was the fit of her clothes and her hair and the cute ears. It was all of those separately and all of those at once, at the same time.

Seeing her was like living in a significant moment in history. Like attending a World's Fair, holding a piece of the Berlin Wall as it was being torn down, or standing on the frontline of a revolution.

It was having an inkling – a fervent gut feeling – knowing that what was happening was momentous and would leave an everlasting impact. But, for the time being, he was just in it: living it. Experiencing everything with the understanding that millions of different pieces had to have fallen into place for this one thing to happen and he. was. there.

"Hi, Red." Sammy caught her in a tight vice-like embrace.

"Hello." It was muffled a smidge from having her face buried in his shirt. She broke apart from him first.

"Alex, this is my girlfriend. Y/N. We call her Red." He said, keeping her close with an arm snaked around her middle while she gazed up at him.

In their brief time hanging out together, Alex had not considered that Sammy might have a girlfriend, nor did he consider that Sammy might not have a girlfriend.

He had not thought about it at all. Not in the slightest.

"Nice to meet you." Alex reached out his hand.

Y/N tore her gaze from Sammy and stared at the hand in front of her; she pondered it. Not moving. Her face flushed like she was going to be ill.

"Um...I..." He retracted his hand, shoving it deep into the pocket of his shorts.

"She won't shake your hand, mate, nothing against you – just a germaphobe. That's on me for not telling you beforehand."

"That's alright. I guess we're not meant to be shaking hands anyway." An awkward chuckle drippled off his tongue to which he did not receive a reaction. "With the Budweiser Bug and all."

"Oh, I'm not scared of that. People overreact." Sammy switched gears and moved to stand at Alex’s side.

Alex continued smiling as he considered how that might have been the most ignorant thing he had heard all month. But not everyone had the opportunities to take higher education courses as he had.

Y/N kept quiet during their exchange and after looking over Alex once more (avoiding his face), she flickered her gaze to Sammy.

It was like standing in the same room with someone on the phone and getting one half of the conversation. Alex was left guessing based on how confused and uncomfortable Y/N appeared to be as to what expression Sammy was using to respond to her questioning gaze.

Whatever he must have signaled or mouthed, it worked.

"Hello," Y/N addressed him simply as she set sail those dazzling eyes of hers into the peaceful seas of Alex's blue set, "It's nice to meet you as well."

It was a voice to tune-in to over the general hum of a group of speakers. A voice that might be complimented as being good for radio. A voice clear and crisp like water (from anywhere but London tap).

Alex wanted to keep her talking – to hear her mind and her thoughts. Hear her present a speech, putter a nervous ramble, or just word vomit. Hear how she pronounces each consonant and vowel. And if there were specific words that carried a different accent than the rest. Where did those come from? Where did she come from?

Notwithstanding his questionable reputation in a few corners of the internet, Alex was not a complete and utter irrational weirdo. He did have a brain which he would use part of the time.

It was not unlike him to be struck with crushes on young women and men he met in passing—he was human; it happens. If he was feeling extra alone, that crush might linger longer.

Might stumble into his dreams.

That is all it was—a crush. Right? Then why did it feel different? Not like that of a sudden burst of flames but of a washing-over sense of relief – an unquestionable assuredness in something new.

New or not, Alex was determined not to be weird about it.

"Why go by Red?" ...when Y/N is so fitting, so beautiful. Mission: Don't Be Weird Status: Failed

"What do you mean?" she asked with her head cocked to the left.

"Come on." With a clear sense of boredom in the direction of the conversation, Sammy strolled to the sofa and sat on it. He ripped into the cardboard box labeled DISHWARE and began emptying plates and mugs onto the cushion next to him. Speaking a bit louder to be heard over the tearing of tape, he offered, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Guess not. Or I might just be a little thick."

Everyone ignored his comment.

"You know, if you want to stick around some, Red's making quiche."

"Quiche?" Alex walked toward the back of the sofa – stopping a few meters short. "More of a breakfast food, don't you think?"

Bringing a hand to his chest in mock shock and offence, Sammy declared, "Food does not have curfews!"

"Except at hotels...and McDonald's."

"No. No, not McDonald's. Not for a while now; where have you been?"

Alex rolled his eyes; while searching for some support in the conversation, he turned to find Y/N had disappeared in the single second she was out of his sights.

A disappointed frown formed on his pink lips.

Perhaps it was a cue for him to leave as well. "I got to run. I'll be seeing you then?"

"Right," said Sammy. "Go Newcastle! Yeah?"

Alex thumped his closed fist twice against his chest in an odd gesture (which meant nothing) and smiled a closed mouth smile as he stepped backwards out the apartment door to the carpeted hall.

Sammy chuckled and shook his head, "You're a funny guy, Alex."

[microcos-pod]

Micro-Cosmos S1E2: Turn and Draw Transcript

(A strange beast torments the crew.

Transcript begins below break.)

[THEME MUSIC FADES IN]

ANNOUNCER Futuristic Trail Mix Productions presents Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast. [THEME MUSIC FADES OUT]

[sfx: footsteps, button press]

ATHENA Transmitting on April 8th, 2094, from approximate position on Ophiuchus-22, North 51 degrees West 111 degrees, this is Officer Athena Romero: combination communications-security specialist and resident chronicler with Omnitarian Establishment Crew #0137-F. This is day 12 of our terraforming mission, and our 8th day of hauling ship to the rendevous point. I'm happy to report that the last 24 hours have been pleasantly uneventful, given our... typical circumstances and somewhat whimsical encounters. Dr. Couvillion has continued expanding upon his... catalog, if you will, of flora and fauna he's found on the planet's surface. According to Cal at 0600 this morning, he has gotten it up to 34 items. Impressive. He is, though, still waiting for authorization to send what he collected last week in for analysis, so... I think he would be... Rather appreciative if you could get back to him on that. Please. Hmm what else... oh! Petty Officer Abbott has been busy trying to add... I think they called them 'firewalls'? To Cal's programming, to try to prevent any more... technical accidents, when Cal inevitably gets bored. They are so far unsuccessful, but... I have faith. They were able to successfully repair their ocular functions on Monday after Cal unintentionally disabled them, so... I don't know, we'll see. Commander de la Cruz has been making sure that morale is high, given the long trek. The temperatures on Ophiuchus aren't too terribly hot, only reaching a high of a scalding 25 degrees Celsius yesterday, so being sweaty and miserable hasn't been a tremendous source of torment during our hike... but being painfully bored certainly has, though. She gave Felix a... deck of cards last night. I'm not where she got it, or why she has it, or why she gave it to him,jokinglybut I am quite disappointed she has never invited me to a game of Cribbage. Uh... Aside from that, she has also been doing a wonderful job of navigating us towards our rendezvous point. Either that or we are.. almost definitely screwed, soo... Here's to hoping. I have been spending a large amount of my time in the woods alongside Dr. Couvillion. Not only to serve as protection from... you know, the possibility of predatory creatures, but also to observe for myself! The wildlife here is... gorgeous. Similar to much of what you'd find on Earth but... I don't know, I can't put my finger on it. The more flower reminiscent plants have a much stronger smell than those on Earth, though. Not bad, by any means, but... strong. Like perfume.  It's all very coordinated and... matchy? The fragrances all complement each other. And very well, at that. I feel like it could make the perfect bouquet. Like it was made to make the perfect bouquet, in a metaphorical sense. They're... perfect. I like it. The plant life, I mean. I can... pretty confidently assume that Felix does, as well. I think we all do, if in... very different ways. I think Miles has less of an admirable view of plant life and more of a... sort of... I don't know. I was going to say 'respect,' but that doesn't... Sound entirely right, either. They... acknowledge its importance but... that's about the extent of their reverence. Regardless, I think everyone else is at dinner right now, so I'll... wrap this up and get the two of us back to camp. We're almost halfway through our hike to the rendezvous point right now, and should thus be arriving in... approximately 2-3 weeks. As stated previously, morale is... about as high as it can be while we make our boring... boring way. Outside of all of that, I currently have nothing left to report. So... For now, Romero out. [sfx: button press, footsteps] ATHENA (CONT’D) Are we ready to go, Felix?

FELIX Should be, assuming you are done with your log?

ATHENA Yeah, just finished up. Find anything else?

FELIX Well- [sfx: comms turning on] ALEX (O.S.) You two on your way back yet?

ATHENA Yes, sir... Why, is something wrong?

ALEX (O.S.) No, just a... small situation back at camp. Not an emergency but we could certainly use you guys here with us.

ATHENA 10-4. We'll pick up the pace. ALEX (O.S.) Copy. Thanks.The comms clicks off.

ATHENA Any idea what that was about?

FELIX No. Only one way to find out though, yes?

ATHENA Yeah...Head right on, then?

FELIX Right on. *** ALEX So you're sure you didn't hear anything?

MILES Yes. I was- I was just getting my food. I came out of the tent to sit at the camp. Is that so-

CAL You hesitated.

MILES Oh, shut it, you insufferable little- [sfx: footsteps] ALEX Alright, you two. I wasn't accusing anyone, Miles. I just wanted to know if there was anything you heard or saw that could help us figure out what did do it. I'm not going to put you through trial over a-

FELIX Why is the bag outside of the tent?

ATHENA Why is the bag... slashed open- what happened?

ALEX That's what we're trying to figure out. Glad you two could join us, though. If there's some wild, carnivorous beast out there hunting us down, we're probably better as a unit than alone, right? Right, Felix, there's not a wild, carnivorous beast out there hunting us down?

FELIX Well... [The rest of the crew groans.] CAL On April 7th at 2200 hours, Dr. Couvillion left the following report in his Wildlife Catalog:"Footprint. Reptilian in nature. Tridactyl. Approximately 20 centimeters in length. Located in the southwest forest. Likely predatory." [They groan again.] FELIX I said 'likely!' Not to mention that it was merely a footprint and I have no other correlating information. Some... twigs could have left that.

MILES Some artistic ass twigs-

ALEX Miles.

MILES Commander, you heard what Cal said!

ALEX I did. And it all sounded theoretical to me. Everyone just needs to calm down, it'll be fine. Felix, do you think that there's... a probability that that footprint and the... tear in the bag could be related? Was it pointed towards the camp or anything?

FELIX I wasn't... necessarily looking, at that moment. If we want more information on the classification and nature of this creature, we'll have to go back into the forest and conduct some actual research. MILES No way. ATHENA Let's do it.

MILES Athena!

ATHENA Miles, look at this.

[sfx: the bag rustling as Athena opens it]

ATHENA (CONT’D) First Aid equipment. Bandages, hydrocortisone ointment, antiseptics. If this thing is a legitimate threat, then we need to do something about it, seeing as we've already contaminated and/or shredded the majority of our medical supplies. One of us trips and accidentally gashes our knee open, we're screwed. God forbid someone gets slashed by whatever was sharp enough to trash a polyurethane nylon bag and layers of tough equipment. I... I really don't think this should be up for debate.

ALEX She has a point. If we sit around and wait for whatever it was to come back, it might end up jeopardizing the security of our other equipment. Equipment that we really can't afford to lose. Communication devices, the tent...

FELIX Rations.

ALEX Exactly. Not particularly a risk I'm willing to take when we're lightyears away from base.

[Miles sighs.]

ALEXl You'll be fine, Miles. We've been in the woods dozens of times, now, and we're all still here. Limbs and all.

MILES I know, but... I mean, we've got how much more time before we run out of starlight? An hour? Thirty minutes?

ALEX You've got some nice glasses there, Abbott, don't they do anything? Transitionals, perhaps? New scotopic models?

Flashlight, dude. Felix and Athena go out after dark all the time.

CAL "Nothing routs us but the villainy of our fears," Officer Abbott.

ATHENA Was that Shakespeare-

MILES Cal-

FELIX Miles are you... afraid of the dark?

[Miles groans.]

ALEX Right, then. Into the woods to Grandmother's house we go. Everyone grab a bag and make sure your flashlights are still secured to your belt. We'll head out in 10, get a quick dinner if you need to.

CREW (varying) Yes, sir.

ALEX Oh, and Athena?

ATHENA Yes, sir?

ALEX Nice thinking. ***

ALEX What were those coordinates again, Cal?

CAL North 51 degrees West 111 degrees.

ATHENA North 51 West 111? That's not far from where we were earlier this afternoon. I wasn't... looking out for anything, but I... don't particularly remember seeing anything indicating that there's a... You know, large, reptilian predator out there. You're sure those are it?

CAL That is the approximate center of what we generally refer to as the "southwest forest." So, yes. I'm quite sure, Athena.

MILES "The southwest forest" is a pretty friggin' vague location, Cal. There's no way you could find a... I don't know, more precise target or something?

CAL Of course, Officer Abbott! Give me a moment as I integrate myself into Dr. Couvillion's hippocampus and see the exact location of the footprint measured at a mind-boggling 20 centimeters in length somewhere in an undefined, unexplored, unmeasured forest of foreign flora- and, more importantly, fauna- to get you a "more precise target" since you can't bother walking the extra 0.8 kilo-

MILES Cal, you need to drop this attitude with me! I'm trying to get things done and you're acting like it's some otherworldly request! Just do your job, is it that-

ALEX Hush, you two.

What is taking Felix so long?

MILES Probably making himself a gourmet meal with the trail mix...

[sfx: footsteps, a bag jangling]

FELIX Sorry for the delay, I had to- What's with the staring?

ALEX That's a... lot of equipment you've got there, Felix.

FELIX Well, I figured we would require a particular level of, how do you say... expertise? And as our one and only Chief Science Officer and the only biologist I know of for a couple of lightyears, I figured I would bring some of my equipment. Maybe make it a bit of a learning experience for the less knowledgeable.

Such as Miles.

MILES Now, look here-

ALEX Play nice. That's all actually useful though, right? It's not just going to slow us down?

FELIX No, of course not. It's a collection of hunting and trapping supplies and portable evaluation equipment. If things go as we're expecting, it should all come to use.

ALEX Good, good.

[Alex claps.]

ALEX (CONT’D) Alright. Athena and Miles, you two stay close and keep tabs on each other. Felix and I will take the lead. If you see anything out of place, anything at all, let us know immediately. We should reach the approximated position in... mm, Cal, what do you think?

CAL At your average speed of 13.87 kilometers per hour, I think shooting for 15-20 minutes is your likeliest estimation, Commander.

ALEX Call it 17, then. We've got twenty-ish minutes of starlight left, so make sure your flashlights are secured and you've got your eyes peeled. Not entirely sure what we're looking for, so be ready for just about anything.

Cool... Onward, then. [sfx: footsteps]

***

[sfx: footsteps, birds chirping, forest ambiance]

MILES Hey, Athena?

ATHENA Yes, Miles?

MILES You're the, like... bodyguard, right?

ATHENA [laughs] Security specialist, bodyguard, however you'd like to put it. Yes, I am. Why?

MILES So you...You have a knife or something, right?

ATHENA Yes... It's not exactly going to gut a modern dinosaur, but I have a pocketknife. So does Felix, I think.

[Miles mumbles an affirmation.]

May I ask why you're asking me this?

MILES Oh. No reason.

ATHENA You're sure? No reason at all?

MILES Yes. Well, no. I mean. Well... you know.

ATHENA I... don't. You know you can talk to me, Miles, right? I know I'm not the, uh... social butterfly, that Dr. Couvillion and Commander de la Cruz are, but I'm still your crew member and I'm not going to... bite, or whatever. [chuckles.] I've been told I'm actually quite pleasant to talk to, on occasion.Miles awkwardly chuckles back in response. Before they have time to say anything, though, 

ATHENA I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to make you look like an idiot earlier, I swear, I wasn't. I just... that was a lot of medical supplies, and we've still got a ways before we reach the rendezvous point, so I was... worried, at the implications of possibly losing anything more. I didn't mean to seem... aggressive, or anything, and I am genuinely very sorry if I came across that way.

MILES Oh, no, yeah, no, you're fine. I didn't think much of it. I was being... Stupid, so... No, I get it.

I was asking because of the, uh... "modern dinosaur," by the way. It's getting dark out, so I was just thinking about it.

ATHENA I'm honoured that you think I could take on a potentially 5 meter, thick-skinned dinosaur on my own, Officer Abbott.

MILES Yeah, yeah...Miles stops walking for a moment, as Athena continues to walk. 

[sfx: jangling of Miles searching their belt, a slight droning glitch]

MILES (CONT’D) Hey, wait up a minute!

ATHENA What was that? 

[sfx: repeated clicking]

MILES My flashlight's not turning on!

ATHENA Stay there, give me a second!

Commander, could you two turn back for a moment?

ALEX (O.S.) Yes, turning around now. Everything alright?

ATHENA Yeah, we're fine, just...

[sfx: jangling, clicking from Athena]

ATHENA Torches aren't turning on. Low visuals. Soon none, most likely.

ALEX (O.S.) Fantastic. We'll be there in a minute or two. See you then. Or... not, apparently. de la Cruz out.

[Athena sighs.]

[sfx: jangling, clicking]

ATHENA Miles-

MILES Sorry.

[sfx: forest ambiance] [sfx: a sudden scuttling]

MILES Athena, what the hell was that?

ATHENA I don't know. Stay quiet, I'll go check it out.

[sfx: footsteps]

MILES What? Athena, don't be an idiot, get back here, what are you-

Athena? Are you- [sfx: comms click on] ALEX (O.S.) Hey, our-

[Miles screams.]

ALEX (O.S., CONT’D) -flashlights aren't working either. Not sure what's going on. We should be approaching in a second, though, so just keep an ear out. Copy?

ATHENA(O.S.) Miles? Miles, are you okay?

MILES Uh- yeah, I'm okay, I'm fine, ah

[sfx: button press on comms]

MILES (CONT’D) Copy! Copy. We, uh... we heard something and, unless Felix has taken a liking to scuttling around on forest floors like a squirrel, I think it might be our predator. Athena went to go look, not sure why in Hell she would, but she's... away. A couple meters, at least.

ATHENA (O.S.) I'm fine, don't worry about me. You two should get here as quickly as possible, though, I can hardly see the back of my hand right now, let alone a potentially deadly predator. I think we'll take any help we can get.

ALEX (O.S.) Copy. Okay, how about this. Give us 15 more seconds to cover some distance, and then we'll start a count off. Make sure everyone is accounted for and get some approximated positions. Me, Felix, Miles, Athena, Cal. Out loud, no comms. Make sense?

MILES Yes, sir. 

Well, actually, uh...Cal has been. Shy. For the past few minutes. So unless they've had a major change of heart, I'm not sure how willing they would be to-

ALEX (O.S.) Okay, Miles. Noted. Are we good, Cal? Athena?

ATHENA (O.S.) 10-4.

ALEX (O.S.) Got it, Felix?

FELIX (O.S.) Got it. Uh... what was that about Cal?

ALEX (O.S.) They're... fine. I don't think they plan on running away anytime soon. We can check on them once we get things sorted out. Not the first time they've been... antisocial with us.

Okay, everyone turn your comms off. Listen for our voices. De la Cruz out.

[sfx: comms all click off, forest ambiance]

ALEX ONE!

FELIX TWO!

MILES Three!

ATHENA Four!

ALEX One!

FELIX Two!

MILES Three!

ATHENA Four! ALEX One!

FELIX Two!

MILES Three!

ATHENA Four!

ALEX One!

FELIX Two!

MILES Three!

ATHENA Four!

UNKNOW DISTORTED VOICE FIVE.

[The group SCREAMS, chaos ensues.]

[sfx: various shuffling, running, collisions]

[Athena and Alex exclaim.]

ALEX Are you okay?

ATHENA I think- are you?

ALEX Hell if I know!

FELIX Miles?!

[Miles shrieks.]

FELIX Miles, it's me, calm down!

MILES Sorry, I didn't-

ALEX Everyone, calm-

[CAL laughs. And keeps laughing.]

CAL Oh, you should've seen the looks on your faces! I mean, I couldn't exactly see, but imagining was just as fun! That was great, that was great...

MILES What?

CAL What? It was just a prank, Miles. If this was you, you'd tell me to 'lighten up.’

MILES I think you have a really twisted view on what I think is funny, Cal.

ALEX Cal, this... this is beyond unacceptable. What the hell were you th-

[sfx: a monstrous roar]

[The crew screams, Cal’s boot-down jingle plays]

ALEX Run. RUN, GO!

[sfx: running footsteps]

ATHENA Here, look! Behind here!

MILES So does anybody... want to explain to me... what the hell just happened?

MILES Anyone at all? FELIX Did any of you... actually see the specimen?

MILES Thank you, for not answering my question at all.

FELIX No, Miles, I'm serious. Did any of you catch a glimpse of it? Size estimations, speed, anything?

ALEX I don't think so, Felix. Why? Did you catch something we didn't?

FELIX Not exactly...

[sfx: jingling, shuffling of Felix’s equipment]

FELIX Despite the, ah... acoustics and tone of the beast in question, I don't actually think it... well, hm...

ALEX Felix? What are you getting at?

FELIX I have a theory that this beast may not be quite as beastious as aforementioned, sir. The scale is... not quite adding up to me.

MILES ... what.

FELIX I'll be right back, sir.

[sfx: footsteps of Felix sprinting off]

ALEX Felix- Oh, for the love of-

[sfx: footsteps of Alex sprinting off]

ATHENA Alex!

[sfx: footsteps of Athena sprinting off]

MILES Athena!

[sfx: footsteps of Miles sprinting off]

*** ATHENA Transmitting on April 8th, 2094, from our current base. We have now reached 2100 hours and I...frustratedWhat a day it has been, Headquarters. Following my previous log, sent out approximately 2 hours ago, Dr. Couvillion and I returned to base to find our primary first aid bag slashed open. Contaminated, trashed, and, mostly, useless.

From that point on, it was somehow deduced that a.... reptilian predator was out to sabotage us. Nothing has since pointed against such a deduction, however... the creature is still nowhere to be found. We had a close encounter, though, following an... incredibly tasteless joke from Cal. They later expressed to me that they did it as an act of retaliation. They said it had something to do with their... dismissal. Being used as an asset and nothing more. Not getting to fully interact with the crew like the rest of do, barely being able to get a word in, period. I get that. I don't think what they did was appropriate at all, that's not what I'm saying, but... That feeling. That disconnect. I get it. Regardless, we proceeded to get chased behind a tree. Doctor-

[sfx: footsteps MILES You're telling me. You had. A net. This entire time?

FELIX I told you I had trapping equipment, Miles. I just never got the chance to set anything useful up since somebody here couldn't deal with a broken torch...

MILES Yours was broken too?

FELIX Ah, yes, but I didn't make Athena call up Commander de la Cruz, did I?

[Miles and Felix argue in the background.]

ATHENA Uh, sorry... Doctor Couvillion then set back out, which led to... a bit more chaos. Just what we needed. We then reported back to base, and he was... incredibly insistent about heading back out. So... he and Miles pushed back into the trees. After we all rested for a few minutes. I held back to watch over base, and Commander de la Cruz followed them close behind, with Cal, to make sure they didn't kill each other. Sounds like he had a net. I don't see anything of importance though, so... I'll update later. [sfx: comms click]

ATHENA Anything?

MILES No, just a bunch of stupid twigs.

ATHENA Great.

FELIX It could've at least been a learning experience if someone had put in the smallest twinge of effort. But alas... Miles is doomed to brainlessness.

ALEX GUYS! Guys, you might want to check this out!

MILES She was in the forest?

ATHENA Yes, now go, go go go...There is a shuffling as they all run back to Alex.

FELIX What did you- [gasps].

AWWWWW. Oh my god, that is the most adorable thing I have ever seen...

ALEX Isn't it?

[sfx: the creature murmurs]

MILES That is the most hideous thing I've ever laid eyes on.

CAL Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Miles.

ATHENA Felix, do you know what that is?

FELIX No. However, its build is very similar to that of a cougar cub, and its reptilian frill, tridactyl state, and scaley nature....

Well, for starters, it's clearly only a baby. Aside from those claws, it couldn't hurt a fly.

[sfx: a single step forward]

[The crew whispers at him.] [sfx: the creature squeaks]

FELIX Isn't that right, little guy? You wouldn't hurt a tiny, little fly, would you? No you wouldn't, no you would not... How does Mercutio sound for a name? Little Mercutio-

[sfx: the creature hisses and sprays]

[Felix screams, the crew exclaims.]

ALEX FELIX! Are you okay?

CAL Doctor Couvillion?!

MILES FELIX!!

ATHENA Are you alright??

FELIX Yes, I'm- I'm fine... Just stings... Bad Mercutio! Bad!

[sfx: the creature hisses and scurries off]

ALEX Dammit.

CAL Don't worry, Commander. The probability of one of Doctor Couvillion's traps catching the creature is incredibly-

[sfx: a trap springs, the creature yelps]

CAL (CONT’D) Likely!

ALEX Joyous day...

Right, Felix, let's get your face checked out. Athena, go see what the situation is at the trap. Cal, maybe back some of the newfound data to the catalog with Miles?

CAL Yes, sir.

Alex undoes their projector from her wrist and hands them to Miles.ALEXGet along with each other. We'll all bed down in 30. CREW (varying) Yes, sir.

*** [sfx: a campfire crackling]

CAL Processing 80% complete. Processing 85% complete. Processing 90% complete. Integrating into mainframe and long term memory drive. Processing 95% complete. Saving to Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion-

MILES Augustine?

CAL -personal data file. Processing 100% complete. Data saved.There is a quick chime.

CAL Yes. Augustine, Officer Abbott. As an asset of the Omni-Corporation, I have access to each crew member's personal file, seeing as that's useful and convenient. Is this shocking to you?

MILES No, that's not what I meant, you know that's not what I am, I just thought-

CAL Because I can go through all of it right now, if you'd like! Since it seems so interesting! Let's start with the star of the show, yes? Petty Officer Miles Jackson Abbott.

MILES Cal-

CAL Date of birth: June 30th, 2071. Ooh, interesting! Education: Skipped years 7 to 9 in secondary school. Attended the University of Teegarden- very impressive school, Miles- from 2086 to 2088, before facing e- 

MILES ENOUGH, Cal.

CAL I'm sorry that that wasn't convenient for you, Officer. There must be something wrong with my programming. I shouldn't be able to be so challenging, so... impractical. I was only trying to help you. Perhaps it's something that the decommissioning floor will have to look into when we arrive back on Earth. I will try to be a better contrivance in the future. Goodnight, Officer Abbott. [Cal’s boot-down jingle plays.] *** [THEME MUSIC FADES IN] ANNOUNCER Micro-Cosmos: A New Science Fiction Podcast.

This episode, Turn and Draw, was written by Jesse Smith, edited by Luka Miller, and directed by Jesse Smith, Zyrel Thompson, and Lauren Tucker. It starred Jesse Smith as the voice of Athena Romero, Jackson Rossman as the voice of Miles Abbott, Luka Miller as the voice of Alex de la Cruz, Kaleb Piper as the voice of Felix Couvillion, and Pippa van Beek-Paterson as the voice of Cal. Original music by Julia Barnes, and sound editing by Tobias Friedman and Isabel Sepúlveda. Be sure to stay tuned to our feed for upcoming episodes from the new backpacking intergalactic adventure from Futuristic Trail Mix Productions. To follow the show and find transcripts, you can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram as @MicroCosPod. Questions, comments, and concerns can be emailed to us via futuretrailmixpros@gmail.com. Find more information on the show on our website, microcospod.space. Thank you for listening. [THEME MUSIC FADES OUT] ***

[cecilspeaks]

164 - The Faceless Old Woman (Live)

[applause]

Jeffrey Cranor: I’m really excited, we wrote this script recently coming up in this last performance for tonight. And I got real excited for writing it, cause we haven’t written like a, to do a live show full length in a new voice. And it was a lot of fun to do.

Joseph Fink: Yeah so tonight we are presenting the first Welcome to Night Vale show that is entirely from the point of view of someone who is not Cecil, this is the time when the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home gets to step out from her secret.. place in your home. [laughter] And tell you a little bit about herself.

Jeffrey: One of my favorite things about writing the Faceless Old Woman stuff is cause the way Joseph and I work is that we’ll write episodes or write parts of episodes and pass it to the other and that person will, sometimes have questions but oftentimes just maybe like add something to it. So a lot of times it’s either, when I get stuff back from Joseph and I dunno if he feels the same way getting stuff back form me, with the Faceless Old Woman script it was always either something really hilarious for something really upsetting. [laughter] And I really love that a lot.

Joseph: This is maybe the most upsetting thing we’ve ever written, I hope you guys enjoy it. [laughter]

Jeffrey: Have fun, good night! [applause]

Joseph: I guess we should start that show we talked about.

Jeffrey: Let’s do it. You guys, let’s welcome to the stage your friend and ours, Mara Wilson!

[applause] [long silence]

Mara Wilson: I am the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. Hello. You don’t know me, but I know you. I know you very well. I’ve been going through your medicine cabinet. You take too much Advil. Do you realize how hard that is on your digestion? I know a couple gelcaps and a glass of water before bed can alleviate a morning hangover, but it also puts you in a bad mood, because you don’t get good sleep with all that extra stress you put on your guts. You know what’s a better hangover cure? Not drinking like it’s the last day of community college. I replaced your vodka with clear Windex, and your Advil with Ipecac. This won’t help your hangovers, but it certainly will be more entertaining for me. I don’t sleep, so I need better late night entertainment than Netflix. I’ve already watched every episode of “Money Heist” and “Criminal Man” and “Planet documentary”, I have to spice it up a little bit.

Which reminds me, sorry about the tarantula incident last week. And here I’m speaking specifically to you, Tony. Yes you, in the shirt. The one hoping I’m not talking about you. I’m not sorry you woke up with a tarantula covering your face, nor that it bit you, causing your eyelids to swell up like Kinder eggs filled with purulent discharge instead of toys. I am sorry that I forgot to turn the flash off of my camera, which alarmed both you and the spider, and I never got a good photo. I’ve been building up my portfolio for an art exhibit I call “Gross Things on a Sleeping Tony”. It’s going up June 1, exclusively in your living room.  I’ve already gotten “Open-mouthed Centipede Bouquet” framed. You’re gonna find this show absolutely terrific.  Wait no, not terrific, what’s the word? Terrifying.

Tony, you’re one of my favorites in Night Vale. I know you hate your direct marketing job selling high interest credit cards to twenty-somethings, but the benefits are great. You have health care, a 401k, and you get to take advantage of people less fortunate than you. Everything is its own reward. But I’ve read your poetry, you love poetry. To be fair, there isn’t a big job market for poets, but you need to explore what makes you happy. I tattooed one of my favorite lines of poetry on you last month. It’s by Mary Oliver. “Instructions for living a life. Close your eyes. Be scared. Good luck.” And then I drew a little butterfly next to the words. I’m not the best artists, though, so it kind of looks like a radish or a sarcoma. Doesn’t matter, you still haven’t noticed. It’s just right below your right shoulder blade, don’t try to find it now, it’s still healing and given that I used the metal rod from that fondue set in your closet as the needle, it’s possible it’s infected. Better to leave it alone.

Tony, look at me. Imagine where my eyes would be. You have a lot to work through. I’m here to help you, I really am. I’ll prove it by giving you some advice. If a venomous arthropod is on your face, don’t scream.

Anyway, it’s not you Tony who’s bothering me, it’s the new people. They are elderly, like me, and they just moved into a house in the center of Night Vale. Or maybe this is decades from now, time is a little hazy for me. I’ve never been in this house nor noticed it before they moved in. it’s a one bedroom and there are three of them. I thought polyamory, but they have three separate beds and they never speak to each other, rarely look at each other, and never leave the home. The first night I secretly lived in their home, I realized they never slept either. They brushed their teeth, put on pajamas and get into bed. But they all lie there, eyes open, through silent hours of darkness.

I tried whispering to them but got no response. Usually when I reveal myself in the dark, I get the thrill of witnessing horror dawn across a person’s distorted mouth and bulging eyes as they see my faceless face pressed up against their own. One of the best parts of visiting new residents. But not these three. For once, I’m the frightened one.

Speaking of frightening, did you get your taxes (-) [0:08:20] on time Alex? You, you’re Alex. You with the shoes. I had to file for an extension. I don’t owe any money because I have no income, but I’m over 200 years old, never got a social security number, have no permanent address and I wasn’t born in this country, it’s a lot of paperwork. And Alex, you know your Wi-Fi is terrible and I was having a hard time downloading the forms I needed, so I just wrote my name on some yellowish-black Boston lettuce you’ve left in the crisper for the last three weeks. But the leaves kept falling apart, I think more like melting. After about 20 minutes, I got frustrated and just made myself a salad. Also, I used the last of your parmesan cheese, but don’t worry, I replaced it with dried skin I’ve been collecting from your bed sheets. Don’t be grossed out, Alex. Same texture and nutritional value, you won’t know the difference. I got the idea from a Food Network’s “Beat Bobby Flay”, where this one winner tied up Bobby and ran a (micro-) [0:09:17] across his forehead to make a chimichurri sauce.

I love that show, but I’m a bigger fan of HGTV’s “House Hunters”, the desert dystopian version. That’s where I met you, Addie. Yes you, with the face. You were shopping for a new home here in Night Vale. You told the realtor - who was inside of a living deer, its belly horrifically distended and quivering with every one of the agent’s words and gesticulation – that you wanted three bedrooms, a back yard, and something close to an outdoor community space. The first home, the yard was not in good shape, lots of (- remains) [0:09:55] and the lawn was glowing, perhaps from underground radiation testing. It was well under your budget, but you would have had to spend your savings on fixing it up. Also, in the bathroom mirror you saw, crawling across the ceiling, a faceless old woman devouring what looked like a rat. You didn’t need to worry about a rat infestation, Addie. It was a chipmunk. The second home was a condo right in the heart of the arts district. You loved the design: a simple large black cube, no doors, no windows, no interior. A true closed floor plan, so popular these days. But you weren’t sure there was enough room for entertaining, or anything else at all. The house you selected was perfect. Three bedrooms, a Jacuzzi en suite, and a large patio backyard. Plus it was right in the middle of town next to a community dog park. Although you would be disappointed later to learn that your dog had been arrested for domestic espionage after peeing inside the park’s forbidden walls. I think you made the right choice, Addie, but I can’t help wondering every time I watch “House Hunters”, who is this person running away from? You left Queens to move to Night Vale. Queens is where your family lives, where your best friend lives, and your girlfriend of two years. Are you afraid of stasis, Addie? Of being loved, of commitment? You might be afraid of that pinkish ooze coming out of your ear, might wanna see an ENT about that. Or if not an ENT, an entomologist.

Speaking of putting woodboring beetles inside orifices, I tried a similar thing with the elderly room mates who recently moved to town, or will move to town many years from now, again time is strange to me. But these room mates are also so strange. When I went to put a beetle into one of their ears, I noticed a lot of scar tissue there, making the hole too small. In my haste, the beetle scurried away and I got kind of desperate and just made a bunch of spooky moans and hisses like this: [moans, hisses] but not one of the three responded to me. They continued their meaningless pantomime of sleeping, and in the morning they got up and each went quietly about their days. One of them made coffee, but did not drink it. They then went to the window and waved at their neighbor, Susan Willman, who was on her porch stretching before her morning run. Susan looked at the figure in the window next to her and froze. She stared in terror, then darted back into her home and locked the door. Susan has always been unfriendly. I ran her bed sheets through her office shredder as a reminder to be more open and loving toward the world.

The other two room mates climbed into the shower at the same time. I’m not one to get off on others’ sexual activities, I just thought I might see something new, something human here. But no, they stood side by side, cleaning their cold gravity-defeated bodies, not once looking at each other let alone speaking. A squelch and a squish and grey water falling around yellow toenails. They toweled off, but when they hung the towels up, those towels were completely dry.

I’m used to being the one who does inexplicable and disturbing things. Last year during the community players’ production of “Romeo and Juliet”, I decided it would be more fun if they used actual poison. But it was a last minute idea, so the only poison I could find was Borax. Which just gave the two kids playing the leads several unhappy hours in the bathroom on the night after the show ended, so I don’t know. I could have made a stronger directorial choice. But so could the actual director, I get that Shakespeare plays are long, but he cut out all the best parts like the train robbery, and also Tybalt winning his bowling league. Although I did appreciate that they left in Juliet’s famous line: “Good night, good night, your blood and guts and marrow, which worms shall eat inside your grave so narrow.” It’s a classic story. Kids these days just don’t try to fake their own deaths anymore.

Oh. And Morgan. Yes Morgan, I’m talking to you, you with the fingernail sand the teeth. I need to explain something to you. You tip 20 per cent. You can afford it, stop using it as a measure of how much you approve of the restaurant service. A 20 per cent tip is not  bonus, it’s a fee. Restaurant owners don’t pay their staffs, instead they make the diners pay their employees through this idiotic notion of capitalist meritocracy. I don’t care how bad the service, tip them. You have money, Morgan. I would also tell you to stop asking to speak to a manager every time your Long Island Ice Tea is a bit like, but I got out your tongue last month, so they wouldn’t understand you anymore anyway. Do you know what a cut human tongue tastes like, Morgan? Yes you do. You just don’t know that you do. Remember Applebee’s last week? You ordered soup. It was a beef base with  little onions and little perfectly sautéed flecks of your own tongue that you had used to lash out at a manager the last time you ate there. You could blame them for poorly expediting your orders, but really the onus is on you for going to Applebee’s. Which serves neither of the items its name promises. It’s false advertising. It’s like an egg cream soda, or Taco Bell.

Speaking of eating, the elderly room mates made lunch together, but not for each other. They were all in the kitchen at the same time making separate meals in silence. They sat around the dining room table together and ate. They carved and stabbed and pushed foods quickly into their mouths, but their eyes were empty. One of them began to spit out their food. No one seemed to care or notice. They all began to vomit, but not with muscular heaves of shoulders and necks, the vomit spurted out like water from a hand pump, their torsos and heads perfectly still. After each bodily rejection of food, they would start shoveling it back to their mouths, repeating the same process. Eventually one of them stood up and threw their plate into the kitchen window, glass bursting everywhere. That person leaned into the hole and began punching the jagged shards out with their clenched fists as blood poured out of their forearms and wrists. They screamed mournfully into the suburban street. Neighbors and passers-by passed only briefly, as if they had barely heard the sad howls spreading across the valley. Susan’s lemon tree next door died instantly and all the lemons fell with wet plops to the ground. The fruit pealed open and inside of each was a fleshy crimson pulp, like meat that has been ground for too long. The other two room mates kept eating and vomiting, not even noticing the shattered glass being subsumed by the growing pool of blood on the floor.

You know, I wasn’t always like this, faceless or old. Secretly living anywhere. Once I was born upon warm water. The smell I remember is sharp citrus and the peppery sting of grass. The salt funk of ocean. I was once a child. I grieved once. I smelled blood. Once I was a thief. I lived among thieves, I saw empires rise and fall, centuries cast themselves upon infinity as fruitlessly as waves upon cliffs. Once I was a recluse. I lived amongst bandits and farmers, I spoke a different language then. I’ve spoken many languages.

Once I was under the sea. That was a quiet time. I lived amongst the coral and dead-eyed fish. Once I was a wanderer. I’ve seen the (head) [0:18:14] waters of the Mississippi and I’ve seen the cobbled streets of Paris and I’ve seen the empty arches of Franchia. But I’ve never seen anything like those three room mates. Of all the things I've been – child, thief, recluse, wandered, faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, I’ll tell you this: I’ve never been more scared.

Fear is in the unknowing and the mystery. Fear is seeing everything about an old woman except her face. Fear is the uncertainty of her secretly living in your home. Fear is not the spider you see on the wall. It’s the spider you no longer see on the wall when you look back again.

In the unnerving din of shattered glass and mournful howls of that house, I found the loose thread that unraveled this mystery. The room mate who screamed had no tongue. And one of the others had an ear swollen shut from a previous surgery. And the other had a red mark, like a radish or sarcoma adorned with poetry drawn upon their shoulder blade. I realized I knew these three strange room mates. They are you, Tony, the special tattoo I gave you. And they are you, Addie, with your oral scar tissue from the beetle I jammed in there. And you, Morgan, with your tongue removed and digested. The three of you do not exactly live together in that home, not at the same time. You are living three different lifetimes in that same space. You do not speak or respond, because you are dead. Each of you alone in that house together, or you will be, time is confusing for me. Decades from now after you die, your souls will be trapped in the house, because something in this world is unresolved for you. You know this, paranormal neuroscience is required for all high school freshmen. But what they don’t teach you is how to resolve it. I know how and when each one of you die. I wrote it down on the back pages of your journals. Iv’e done this for everybody, but nobody ever reads it, because while people always think they’ll write every day, after a few pages they fall off the wagon and never see the lsat pages of their journals. Except Jonathan Franzen. He didn’t seem bothered by what he read. But he did cross out all my adverbs and added some Oxford commas. In case you’re wondering how Jonathan Franzen dies, here’s the answer: he doesn’t.

I am the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home. You might find this ambiguous, after all the word “home” is singular. So whose home is it that I secretly live in? Listen, some things in this tangled world are simple. I live in your home, and your home, and your home, I live in all of your homes simultaneously. I am many. [echo] I am many. I am one. [echo] I am one. You all live such different lives, teeming, that’s what you are: teeming. And I am there watching you.

You, Tony, you dream of being a poet. Resolve the unresolved. The worst that can happen is crushing disappointment and public mockery, and eviction when you can’t pay your rent. Many more awful things after that, get to it!

And you, Addie, you fled your previous city to escape a murder charge. Strangely, you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with, but you have committed murder. Weird choice to go on “House Hunters” as a wanted fugitive, but maybe it was a good first step to healing your soul.

And you, Morgan. You have an idea that could save us all, an epic defining idea, one of the greats, but you don’t know which one. You have so many ideas. I can tell you this: most of them are not important. One of them is vitally important. Good luck. Also, tip 20 per cent.

And you, I forgot your name, you tweet too much. We all tweet too much, but that doesn’t let you off the hook. That’s why I ate your phone. You can thank me later. You can all thank me later. Because you all will be seeing me soon. I think that tonight is the night to let slip my secret. You’ll soon see me fumbling wet and gray from out of the bathroom mirror, or folded up strangely loose skin and mashed bones in the bottom drawer of your dresser. Or you will see me scuttle on your walls, the hair hanging down from my faceless face. Or you will look out your kitchen window and there will be someone standing in your driveway, and it will be me, and there will be no one in the driveway and instead, I will be next to you in the kitchen. Faceless and so very very old. Won’t that be nice?

I’m the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. And your home. And your home. And every home. And I will be seeing you very, very soon.

[music, applause]

Today’s proverb: Never judge a book by its cover. Judge it by the title page instead.