#the women I work with are all perfectly healthy weights it kills me to watch them all make each other insecure

[auspicioustidings]

Bet Soap shuts down all the diet talk around the office girls by generally being outraged that they're talking about how they should do this diet or that diet (all of them wildly unacceptable to him from a health standpoint, like fuck off you work on a military base 400 calories for a day is NOT ON) and then loudly saying he is going to fuck some self worth into them while already taking his clothes off. There is a massive sigh and Gaz drags him out of there while profusely apologising (but also telling them to meet him at lunch and if they want to talk about good eating habits he can help).

Soap will spend the rest of the day pacing and grumbling under his breath about how much he would die to get stuck into these girls and how he cannot believe they think they're not hot as fuck.

[fairsexynasty]

—DIFFICULT THINGS

jamie tartt x lasso!reader

ONE. TOWNIE

summary: lucy moves to richmond with a memory that doesn’t quite forget what her dad did to her. however, ted is as happy as a goldfish.

warnings: cursing, unlikeable female protagonist, father issues, abandonment issues, resentment

a/n: welcome to this very new series i WILL finish. my love for this show has overtaken my time and i am very excited to be writing this. this chapter is set during “two aces.”

——————

Leonard Cohen once said, “There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” But my world has been infused with the darkest of shadows. Everywhere I search is covered by a dark spot. It seeps into my life from my dreams, nightmares, and memories. I don’t think I was delivered by the hand of God, nor will I be expecting any blessing in the near future. It’s the hope that kills you.

I had that epiphany when I turned seven. No one had ever seen a child so jaded, so self-aware. When I learned that the father I wished for wasn’t that interested in fully being in my life, I accepted it entirely, for what it was worth. He’s popped in and out, coming in as quickly as he leaves, only sticking around for moments he deemed essential to me.

And the worse part is that he’s a good man—a good man with a daughter who felt evil.

I used to wish something terrible would happen to me. A broken collarbone. A car accident. Cancer. If something like that happened to me, I thought he’d return and stay for good.

But those things never happened. I’ve never broken any bones. I’ve never crashed my car into a tree. I’m perfectly healthy. And after all this time, Dad has moved on.

I have a half-brother. Thirteen or fourteen years my junior, it’s disgusting how I’m not too sure about the gap. I’ve never met him, nor do I want to meet him. I envy a child who cannot understand the weight of the word ‘father’ because he’ll always take it for granted.

When I crawl through my memories, I can see Dad crystal clear. He showed up to every one of my birthdays until age sixteen. That’s probably because my brother was old enough to ask and understand why Dad was leaving him. Dad came to my first dance, a father-daughter dance. It was one of the nights I honestly felt pretty. He and I danced the night away, stuffing our faces with candy and desserts and drinking our weight’s worth of soda pop. Dad taught me how to ride a bike. Although it ended with scraping my knees, he helped me up, cleaned my knees, and kissed each one. Dad drove me to my first day of high school. The morning went by quickly, but I can still remember the smile on his face as I waved goodbye to him and walked through the school doors.

I want to be thankful for what I’ve gotten from my dad. But he could have done so much more. Am I not worth the effort?

And it hurts to hate my mother as much as I do.

She could clean up her act for Dad, but once he was on his way home, she’d finally ease into consciousness. We would fight. She’d accuse me of not appreciating her. She’d belittle me and never congratulated me on my accomplishments. She’s manipulative. Controlling. Narcissistic. Evil. I know I’m no good, either. But women like that love confrontation. And she got the best of me every single time.

But I’m a grown woman now. I’m twenty. I have a life. A freedom I’ve never known. I’m trying to be honest, to prove I am everything Mom never thought I’d be. I’m trying to make Dad proud of me. Because everyone else is sure as hell proud of him, he’s Ted Lasso: a simple man with a simple plan who was pulled to spread his kindness in Richmond, England, by coaching their god-awful team. I watched the news with a frown as soon as they announced his new endeavor. If he got a new beginning, why can’t I?

And that’s why I decided to pack up my things and move to England.

I’ve been here before. My mother and I moved around due to her line of work. Whether it was Shanghai, Princeton, Kuala Lumpur, or Rome, I could never call those places home. I feel like Richmond is going to be different. I’m not hopeful. Just curious.

——

The park seems comforting. There appears to be a rhythm that compliments the people. Kids playing soccer, and shops opening for the day.

I sit and watch the world awaken. People pass me by as I sit on the bench, not one of them stopping their routine for me, except one.

lHis greetings were met with responses of “Wanker,” a word I found oddly endearing. He continued down the park trail, saying ‘good morning’ to me mindlessly.

I replied with a deadpan “Wanker,” which surprised him, given my American accent. He turned back, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Oh, my lordy-lord,” he muttered, smiling as he said my name, “Lucy.” He looks at me as if I’m a fucking unicorn. His eyes soften, and the smile that always reaches his eyes is suddenly on his face. “ Lucy !” he breathes out as if he’s too scared to say it louder like I’ll run away and leave.

“Hi, Dad.” He pulls me from my seat on the bench and envelops me into the biggest bear hug I’ve ever gotten from him. And those hugs are grizzly and unrelenting.

He lifts me off my feet and holds my head to his shoulder. “Oh, how I love you, Lucy girl. I can’t believe it!”

I groan, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Dad, please put me down. I'm not as tiny as Henry is," I say with a laugh. He puts me down with a smile, but there’s a flash of a solemn look on his face. I guess my mention of Henry has filled him with some semblance of guilt. I can’t tell if that satisfies me or not. "I think you're wondering why I'm here," I say, the false smile still on my face. "And the only reason is because I wanted to see you, Dad. I missed you," I add, trying to perfect the role of the doting daughter, even though it doesn't come naturally.

“Oh, I missed you too, Pumpkin. I’m glad you’re here.” He spots my luggage standing against the bench. “Looks like you’re gonna be visiting for a while, huh?”

I nod slowly, my gaze briefly shifting away. "Yeah, I am. Needed a change of scenery for a while," I admit, hoping he won't probe further into my true reasons for being here.

Dad nods, but I spot him scanning my face for any information I won’t outwardly tell him. Perhaps it’s a parently instinct, or maybe it’s just a Ted Lasso thing. The smile on my face doesn’t falter.

“So, how’s your mom?”

The question hangs in the air, and I can sense the curiosity in his eyes. I clench my jaw and roll my eyes in annoyance. "I really don't want to talk about her right now," I say firmly, hoping to steer the conversation away from a topic I'd rather avoid.

Dad gives me one of those fatherly smiles, understanding my need for privacy but also indicating he'll inquire about it later. "Alright then. How about we get you settled into my place? Don't care if you've found one already. I got you here with me, and you're not going anywhere, missy. I hope that's alright with you," he adds, his face hopeful as he waits for my response.

I acquiesce to his requests. It’s the least I can do. “Sure, Dad. I’d love to.”

He cheers with a fist pump, then wrangles me into yet another bear hug before I tell him he’s crushing my ribs, and he dramatically lets me go with a pout on his face.

I follow him down the streets to his apartment door. We enter, and it’s pretty lovely, yet it feels so hollow. There’s an opened jar of peanut butter on the island. I can tell he radiates joy as we unpack my things into an extra bedroom. I wonder how lonely he’s been without his son and wife.

Yeah. This is the least I can do.

——

After unpacking and settling in, Dad practically begs me to come to Nelson Road with him, and since I’m already feeling a bit guilty, I come along with him.

Upon entering, some guy with a full beard and eyebrows that make him look perpetually constipated looks at me. Well, it’s more of a glare. He walks up to Dad and me, not once taking his eyes off me. I narrow my eyes in response, shooting him a cold glare of my own. “Who the fuck is this? Don’t tell me Rebecca hired another fucking American.” His voice is deep and rumbling and full of snark.

"Seriously, do all British guys walk around with a stick up their ass?" I quip, but my remark falls on deaf ears. I catch the man clenching his jaw at my question. Ah, it seems he doesn't take kindly to being disrespected. One jab at his masculinity, and he's ready to go to war without a second thought.

"Roy Kent, meet my daughter, Lucille," Dad introduces, but I quickly interject, "Lucy to you." I emphasize my preference, not one to stand on formality. "Who the fuck are you, Roy Kent?" I ask, gauging his reaction as he looks between me and my dad, clearly trying to figure something out. I decide to clear the air, "Yeah, my mom isn't Michelle," I clarify, hoping to put any confusion to rest.

Roy's response is a simple "Oh," followed by a grunt as he exits the scene. My dad remains unfazed and carries on, guiding me towards the locker room with his arm casually draped around my shoulder.

"Coach Beard! We've got a new cast member!" Dad announces to the room as we walk out together, seemingly excited to introduce me to his colleagues.

A man with a book and a golf hat turns his chair around and observes us. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fussbudget,” he says. “Hello, Lucy. I’m Coach Beard. I’ve heard all about you.”

I can't help but snort at the situation. "That's impossible," I retort with a snarky tone. Coach Beard finds my reaction amusing, letting out a chuckle, while my dad gives a slight frown, but I know a few jabs won't easily rattle him.

Suddenly, a strong voice breaks the chatter, announcing, "Ayo, the gaffer's got another kid!" The rest of the men turn their attention to me, their eyes filled with wonder and intrigue. They excitedly chat, asking if they saw what they think they did.

Exiting the office, we step into the open room where my dad proudly introduces me to the team. "Fellas, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter. This is Lucy, everyone."

The players greet me with waves and hellos, except for one guy sitting on the bench, engrossed in his phone, occasionally laughing. I point him out, asking, "Who's that?"

"Jamie Tartt. Hey, Beard, what's the deal with Jamie?" my dad inquires, and seemingly out of nowhere, Jamie appears beside us without making a sound.

Beard responds, "Says he can't practice today. Says he's hurt."

I observe my dad's face dropping with disappointment as he turns to walk out the door and over to Jamie, concern etched across his features.

The whole situation was intense, and I couldn't recall ever seeing my father this angry before. It seemed like there had never been an opportunity for him to get this worked up until now. Watching him unleash his frustration on Jamie reminded me of my mom, who had her share of heated moments. While my dad appeared to be justified in his outburst, Jamie's disrespectful behavior only reinforced my 'British men suck shit' theory.

Feeling overwhelmed, a tingling sensation crept into my head, and my heart raced with the familiar signs of an impending panic attack. I needed to escape, so I swiftly turned on my heel and walked out of the office, trying to distract myself by fiddling with the rings on my fingers.

Wandering aimlessly down the halls, I searched for a private space to catch my breath and calm down. Passing a laughing man, a short guy carrying a laundry bag, and a stunning blonde woman who seemed out of place here, I stopped in my tracks when I heard my dad's name mentioned in a hushed conversation.

"Rebecca, I don't think Coach Lasso will be too thrilled about you trading Jamie away.”

“Higgins, listen to me. I don't care if Lasso is trying to get through to Jamie or if he begs him to come back. Jamie is not returning, and that's precisely what I need," she asserts before abruptly changing the subject, "Now, let me go hunt down my biscuits. They're late."

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Dad is being sabotaged. All this time, I believed he was here to make a positive impact on the team, but it turns out they see him as nothing more than a joke. Stepping away from the door, I attempt to make a quick exit, only to collide with a statuesque woman who towers over me.

She glances down at me, exuding power through her stature and fashion, but I'm not intimidated. "Why, hello there, whoever you are. Are you lost?" she inquires.

Ah, this must be Rebecca. The woman who plans to screw my father over. I can't help but roll my eyes at her. "No. Just looking for the bathroom," I retort.

Rebecca gestures towards the sign, displaying her passive-aggressiveness. "Well, it's just around the corner. Right where the 'bathroom' sign is," she points out.

"Cool," I respond nonchalantly, not letting her faze me. "Oh, and by the way, my name's Lucy. Thanks for hiring my dad to coach!"

I catch a flicker of terror in Rebecca's eyes before I walk away, grinning to myself. Drama seems to follow me wherever I go, even in Richmond. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

——

After my quick trip to the loo, I wander over to the dog track, where Dad and Beard stand, closely observing the team's training session. I can't help but chuckle at Jamie's predicament as he wears a penny and sets up cones.

Dad notices my arrival and playfully calls out, "Oh, there you are, Waldo! What were you doing?"

His attempts at humor fail to catch me off guard. While I understand his references, I refuse to engage in the corniness. "Nothing, just using the bathroom," I reply with a mischievous grin, not willing to spill the beans about Rebecca's scheming ways. "Oh, and I met Rebecca. She seems nice," I lie sarcastically, well aware of her conniving nature.

Before Dad can respond, a rather handsome player approaches us gracefully. "Hello there. Sorry, Coach Lasso, but I couldn't continue practice without introducing myself to our guest," he says with a charming smile. "My name is Sam Obisanya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. The other players and I were wondering if you'd care to join us on the field for a few minutes. We'd like to have some fun at Jamie's expense. Is that alright?"

I return Sam's smile and reply, "Uh, sure. But I haven't played in years, dude. Not sure I'll be any good among you professionals.”

Sam brushes off my concerns, reassuring me, "Oh, that's alright, Lucy. I'm sure Thierry will let you score a couple of goals. Come on!" With that, he guides me towards the field, announcing to the team, "She said yes, you guys!" Their enthusiastic cheers fill the air.

As we assemble for a quick game, a guy with a buzzed fade named Isaac addresses me, confirming my name, "Alright, Lucy, is it?" I nod, and he explains the teams, "We're gonna split into five and five, and you're gonna play with the lads who ain't got a kit on."

"Sounds good," I respond with enthusiasm. I turn to the guys without kits, and each extends a hand for a handshake. I go down the line, shaking hands with each one. There's a short man with curly hair, Bumbercatch, followed by a tall fellow with a broad smile, Jan Maas. Then, a highly energetic man named Dani Rojas greets me, not wasting any time to exclaim, "Football is life!" right in front of me. The last guy, a mousey brunette named Colin, completes the line-up.

Quickly getting into formation with my newfound teammates, they place me front and center for the play. I'm facing off with Sam, who gives me a friendly smile. At the sound of the whistle, we both dash for the ball, but I swiftly take control and dribble it down the field. Roy Kent charges towards me, determined to tackle the ball away, but I outmaneuver him with a quick juke, causing him to land on his ass. The guys react with astonishment, and suddenly, the game shifts from Sam's gentle start to full intensity.

Isaac rushes towards me, sporting a determined expression, but I pass the ball to Dani Rojas, who's open and ready. Dani drives it down the field, but as soon as he spots an opportunity, he passes it back to me. With precision, I shoot the ball into the goal, leaving the goalkeeper stunned as it whizzes past him.

The entire team stands in complete silence, including my dad and Coach Beard, who are both staring at me with their mouths agape. The momentary hush is broken by Jamie Tartt, who teasingly remarks, "Ay, wanker's kid just got you real good, lads." He winks at me, provoking a gag from me followed by a flip-off.

Isaac can't contain his excitement, exclaiming, "Shit, bruv! You just broke Roy Kent's ankles!"

Roy growls behind me, clearly not pleased with being outplayed. "You got fucking lucky, kid," he grumbles.

I don't back down, confidently replying, "Luck's got nothing to do with it. Either you're cursed or you just ate shit, Kent."

I have to admit, Richmond has exceeded my expectations thus far, but I won't let it get the best of me just yet.

[iplaymatchmaker]

@nishtharya​ Thank you so much for requesting🥰🥰! I’m sorry for taking so long! I feel like I  have to also apologize after all that angst in the prompt. I didn’t really mean to make it this sad but I couldn’t help myself 😅, especially considering I have written a beauty and the beast au fic in the past that was also very angsty. All the feels came rushing back. I hope you still enjoy it!❤❤ 

I match you with:

Arthur!

I had a few other guys in mind but I think Arthur would be the only one who could really give back so much while keeping things interesting.

The man has met women who graciously return his advances, but no one managed to play him like you. The look of surprise on his face when you beat him to his own games is extremely entertaining. It quickly becomes a competition of smoothness between the two of you.

After you grow more comfortable around him, both of you realize you have more in common than you think. Your conversations on the dinner table are quite the sight, since you both won’t stop talking until the subject has been completely drained.

When the two of you get into a relationship, it’s very hard for you to keep your hands off each other. He always finds himself reaching for you, whether that’s when he’s writing or when you’re out in town. Your presence around him becomes so natural he finds it hard to focus without you around for long stretches of time. He definitely tells you that a lot, especially when you’re apart for too long.

When he finds out you write and sing your own music he absolutely loves hearing your work. It provides a lot of inspiration for him and he feels very productive when listening to you, even if you’re simply talking. He often asks about your opinions on his latest Sherlock stories, especially after he reads some of your writing.

When you sleep together for the first time he notice how hard it was for you to fall asleep, so he takes it upon himself to help distract you. He’s found quite a few things that often work , although his favorite is definitely cuddling, and other things, but this a family friendly show.

 Prompt 5: Fairytale AU:

“Arthur, open the door!” no matter how many times you yelled and knocked on the door of the large mansion, no answer came.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” You sat yourself on the steps, trying to appear calmer than you were. It was hard not to picture Arthur, alone and afraid, waiting for the inevitable.

“Where did we go wrong?” memories flashed through your mind as you traced your steps, trying to find any signs that this is where it would all lead.

  You had been with Arthur for years and had known him for even longer. You tried to deny it, pointing at your own tendency to over analyze, but his deteriorating health became more and more apparent by the day. He tried his best to brush it off, usually teasing you about how much you worried about him, until one day he collapsed and remained unconscious for the next two days. No doctor could explain the cause of this. He had been perfectly healthy. No problematic past, no underlying health problems. But now he was dying and there was nothing anyone could do.  

You looked back on happier days.  You vividly remembered all the nights the two of you had spent sitting next to each other, working on your stories, often turning to the other for inspiration or a simple word of encouragement when your insecurities got the better of you. He always had a way with words, a way to make you feel special.

The images provided some comfort and you slowly drifted off, still waiting for your love to open up to you, like he did before.

  When your eyes opened you were in a room you didn’t recognize. You were covered in a mountain of blankets and a hot piece of cloth lay on your forehead. When you sat up, you noticed Arthur, writing a few feet away.

“Arthur?” when he noticed you had woken up, he shot up, before tripping, landing back on the chair.

“Watch it.” You moved to get yourself out of bed but he stopped you, slowly lifting himself up, a pained expression on his face. Your heart ached for him as you watched him struggle trying to walk toward you. When he sat down next to you, some of the discomfort seemed to disappear. When he reached for your hand, a shiver run through you after the sudden contact with his ice cold skin.

“My love, you shouldn’t have come here. And you definitely shouldn’t have fallen asleep outside on the brick of winter.” You could see the concern painted on his face as he looked at you. The moment brought you back to the times before all this.

“At least I got you to open the door.” You smiled, sitting up to reach toward him. He pulled away before you could get too close.

“You should’ve left like I told you… There’s nothing for you here anymore.” You glanced at the rose, sitting on the small table by the windowsill. Very few petals were left.

“There’s you.” This time he didn’t move when you reached for him, cupping his cheek.

“I won’t be here much longer.” You didn’t want to think about what life would be like without him by your side.

“There has to be a way to stop it! We still have some time, maybe we can undo this!” he placed a kiss on your forehead, a kiss that felt too much like a goodbye kiss.

“It’s over, love. My time’s up. It’s time I join Rick again. I wonder if he’ll forgive me for not saving him.” You remembered Rick. He was a small boy, barely ten years old when his brother came to Arthur, asking him to treat Rick, who was suffering from a raging fever. He had been the first patient Arthur hadn’t managed to save, one of the many lives he still carried with him, the guilt eventually becoming too much.

“It wasn’t your fault. You can’t save everyone, you shouldn’t expect that of yourself.” you had worried about the weight being a doctor would put on him, but you had never expected it would be the thing that ended him.

“If I can’t save my patients… what kind of doctor am I?” no matter how hard you tried your words weren’t getting through to him and his time was running out.

“Love, please! Your guilt is what birthed this curse. It’s killing you! It’s in your hands to break it!” he had been cursed by his own mind for so long, growing weaker and weaker, until it manifested in the form of a rose, counting down his days. Tears slid rapidly down your eyes. He wiped them away, trying to take your pain along with them.

“I’ve always considered myself intuitive, but the mystery of my mind is one I’ll never be able to solve. But If I may, I want to ask a favor of you.”

“Anything.” You squeezed his hands, bringing him closer.

“It’s selfish of me. I’m the one who told you not to come here and yet here I am wishing you would stay by my side, until the end.” You nodded, tears blurring your eyes.

“I will, always.”

The next few hours felt like an eternity and like no time at all at the same time. There was so much you wanted to say but as you at next to him in front of the fire nothing came out. You could only watch as his life slowly faded away.

“Will you sing for me?” his eyes turned to you, a faint glint to them. You could tell he was struggling to focus, fighting to stay conscious, to spend his last moments with you.

Your voice filled the room, singing one of the songs you had written especially for him a few years ago. You tried to keep your voice steady, despite the situation.

As the minutes passed and the last petal begun to make its descend, his strength completely abandoned him.

“Ugh..”  he collapsed, falling limp on the floor.

“Arthur!” you run to his side, holding him in your arms trying to keep him from slipping away.

“Please, sing…” his words were barely more than a whisper, a sign of his end fast approaching. In spite of it all, he was smiling.

You tried your best to keep your voice from melting into weeping. You wanted to see him off the way he wanted to.

When the last petal touched the ground, he stilled. And so you allowed yourself to cry, unable to stop, to move away, to leave him.

Suddenly, a bright light surrounded you, lighting up the room, bringing warmth back to the empty space. When the light faded, Arthur’s eyes opened.

“Arthur!” you pulled him closer, so close, making sure you weren’t dreaming. He was alive, breathing and warm as ever.

“You’re alive! But how?” he laughed pulling you closer.

“Not happy to see me again?” it was such a relief to see him smiling again.

“Shut up.” You pressed you lips on his, feeling him next to you, just like before.

“I thought I was going to die. My life flashed before my eyes, but when I felt myself slip away, I heard your voice…” tears begun to form in your eyes again, the amount of information making it hard to focus.

“I… I followed your voice… I followed you and It felt like home.” Tears streamed down his face, his body still shaking from the adrenaline. “I guess I’m too much of a coward to die. Not even a self inflicted curse could keep me away from you.” You laughed, unable to contain your happiness. He followed suit, your happiness filling the once gloomy room, bringing you closer than ever before.

“It seems that I’m not going anywhere any time soon.

“You better not! I am still waiting to see the end of your latest story!”

“I would never leave my love hanging like that.” Everything in that moment felt right, preparing you for many more happy memories in your future, with him by your side.

[initiumseries]

CAOS Part 3 - review

Uh, okay, so I think by now, we all know this show is terrible. Netflix gives showrunners a lot of creative freedom, and I think, for better writers, you could get some really interesting content, but they just seem to keep giving these assholes who wrote the travesty called Riverdale, so many opportunities to make more shitty television, and I feel like they really deserve to be limited in their ability to create/write if not stopped completely and thrown into a well with Julie Plec.  Anyway, I’ll try to break this down as best as I can into different piles of shit and this will contain spoilers:

Characters

Prudence and Ambrose

So, to be really honest, I watch this show exclusively for Prudence and Ambrose. Because, well, look at them: 

I wish they had more chemistry because they are super hot together, and I still ship it. A young Black couple? On TV? In this sea of shitty interracial relationships? I’ll take it. Anyway, of course, the progression of their relationship is ridiculous and frustrating. Ambrose decides at the last minute, not to kill Father Blackwood because he has a weird time egg thing that they don’t really understand, also he has the twins under some weird mind control for no clear reason, so they stay their hands. It doesn’t make sense, but it becomes clear, Father Blackwood has an insane amount of plot armour and ultimately would have to serve as a vessel for Satan. Father Blackwood uses the manipulated mind of the other weird sister to sic her on the coven, and she ends up killing Dorkus, whom Prudence finds. She then blames Ambrose for not allowing her to kill FB, and they break up. Now...this would kinda make sense, if not for the fact that they trapped one of the pagan witches and forced her to change everyone back, but no one bothered to do anything about the mentally ill witch who you all strapped up for a reason? Lol ok. Seems like an oversight on your part Prudence, but...okay. Clearly manufactured breakups are exhausting, especially since [young] Black couples with no serious relationship dysfunction are now an endangered species. It’s also frustrating because we barely got to see them....*be* together, especially after they returned home. 

Nick & Sabrina

So, I know from the beginning, we were supposed to believe that Nick and Sabrina had that kind of, Bad Guy, seduces the girl Good Girl, luring her into the dark side, hot, intense, passionate relationship. But their lack of chemistry and really shitty acting just made them really dry (which I get into here). I don’t believe them, and I definitely don’t believe that Sabrina would, once again, break a shit ton of rules to get Nick back. I just don’t buy that they had that kind of an intense, desperately in love, kind relationship, because they do not look all that comfortable around each other, much less in love. 

I personally find Sabrina utterly unlikeable as a main character, largely because who IS she? She has no personality, she just does whatever the plot needs her to do in the moment, and the actress makes Sabrina appear smug and unremorseful while she fucks up everyone’s lives. There is a lot of exposition of everyone telling us she’s this power hungry, manipulative character, but we never see that. She just does stuff and everyone is all “Sabrina how could you?!” and there are never, ever any consequences. I would have liked to see her push so hard to get Nick back and the struggle being, sure she wants him back, but mostly she’s doing it because she can. But that’s not what happens. 

So Nick ends up in this weird drug addiction, alcohol, sex demon spiral because he has parts of Satan still in him and it all just falls so flat and lame, because this show is SO bad at pacing, and these actors suck, so nothing is believable. The idea of him scrubbing his club foot, having nightmares, suffering PTSD, is fine, the execution was trash. Nick sees Caliban and Sabrina have one interaction and he’s like WELL, GUESS I GOTTA CHEAT. And just ends up in some S&M situation with sex demons and heavily self medicating, but none of this has any weight, and we don’t really see him...spiralling. He just immediately resorts to these things and it has no real impact on anyone or even him really, and that’s it. 

Harvey and Roz

Uh, they’re probably the most confusing match here, because there is no lead up to their relationship, there’s not suggestion, there’s no pacing. Just BOOM, we’re into each other now. BOOM, Roz is the only sexually active person in her friend group (lol of course the Black girl is sexually active. Gotta maintain white innocence at all costs), so she’s just ready to jump Harvey’s bones any second now. So of course, the show punishes her by having the pagans turn her to stone. And as if that’s not bad enough...

Which I talk about here and here, because honestly I’m just sick of this show’s antiblackness.  Theo & that other guy

So I was watching this unfold like, yeeaahh, they’re gonna make the trans guy get with the enemy aren’t they? And yes, they did. Cool, they didn’t kill him off, but I’m still perplexed at how Theo isn’t even a little upset that this guy was basically sent to infiltrate his friend group and sat by while his people harmed Theo’s friends, and also...used him? Like...we just...are gonna...gloss over that because he changed his mind? Lol ok. Sure.

Mambo Marie and suddenly Zelda?

I...I mean her name is Mambo Marie. I love the idea of Black witches finding Black spirituality and magicks through Vodun and a Hatian Priestess. But they quickly undo that, by ensuring that Mambo Marie only teaches Prudence in the presence of these white witches. And we see her...doing...an African drum circle (eye roll), only to be interrupted by the High Priestess of White Feminism, Zelda Spellman. It quickly devolves into thinly veiled racism where Zelda doesn’t trust Marie because she’s Catholic (says the woman who worships Satan, has an anti Pope and prays to Lilith with the same prayer for Mary mother of Jesus? LOL. Not even unpacking the fact that Vodun is an African spirituality having 0 roots in catholicism WHITE WRITERS). Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Marie and Zelda are a thing for no reason? After the way Zelda treated her? Why did Marie even stay? This isn’t her problem. This is a white witch problem. Okay. That’s too much to unpack. 

Plot

So, my biggest problem with almost all Netflix English programming is that they are so obsessed with aesthetics, and don’t pay enough attention to actual character chemistry, plot, story flow, details, pacing etc. Like...things that actually make stories interesting to watch. So they slap all these people together and throw them into aesthetically pleasing backgrounds, shake it up with so much exposition that nothing actually happens, and are like BEHOLD A STORY. And CAOS is *especially* guilty for this.

First of all those musical breaks were annoying as fuck. Musicals serve 2 story functions: advancing the plot or telling a story. These musical numbers did neither and were honestly ridiculously gratuitous, highly annoying and totally pointless.

What time of year is this? Why are we having pep rallies and how the fuck and when did Sabrina and Roz join the cheeleading squad, and why?

for the aesthetics and not for any real plot reason. It just seems stupid because now I don’t know how much time has passed between Nick going to hell and this, because you’re all handling it like it’s been a few weeks and is still relatively fresh, but suddenly, Theo, Harvey and Roz are in a garage band? You’re a cheerleader? For what? Since when? Why? These choices introduce more questions than they answer and serve no narrative purpose. So much wasted time on shit that doesn’t matter. 

Sabrina is supposed to be fighting Caliban (who is literally the only person she has chemistry with on this show and they killed him bc ofc they did), for her seat on the throne, and yet the trials only seem to come up when it’s convenient, and also seem to be directly related to her dealings with her coven, which is also convenient.  I’m so confused about Satan. His powers come from being a celestial being, and so, because his coven mistreats him he’s like...lol okay, well fuck you guys and goes through all these convoluted small motions to greatly inconvenience them and withdraws his powers? This is so petty and pathetic. Also, what’s the point? He could just wipe them out and start over, instead of skulking around inside FB then suddenly decides to track down Lilith. Again, convoluted. This plot is all over the place. Why does Satan need Sabrina to be Queen of Hell in the first place? He seems perfectly healthy. Why can’t he just rule it? Like...that makes no sense. What is he gonna do? Retire? WHAT is going ON?

How did Sabrina come back in time to herself stuck in stone? Is that trip to Pontius Pilate (lol) supposed to have created a loophole for her to save herself and everyone? This is giving me hardcore Twilight Breaking Dawn vibes, where, the show finally, FINALLY gets interesting, there’s real stakes, shit is actually happening instead of everyone talking about things happening (Hilda ending up killing her fiance was literally the only time I felt something watching this show because it was genuinely sad, and well acted, and Hilda coming through with that doll at the end was pretty disturbing, I’ll give them that), and ofc, Sabrina goes back in time and undoes it all. Lol. Okay. God forbid there be real consequences to anything on this show.

Final thoughts

Once again, the white feminism runs high on this show. They treat this Black Vodun Priestess Marie, like garbage, allude to her “foreign” magic, but Marie is sitting here like “we’re not men, we’re women, let’s work together.” This is why I hate white writers writing for Black characters. Black characters should have Black motivations, and a Black Vodun Priestess, should know that white women and Black women do not have aligned motivations just because they share a gender. Once they started with the bullshit right from her arrival, she should have handed Prudence her card and peaced tf out. Instead she tolerates the isolation, ostracization and thinly veiled racism...and decides to stay, and help. WHY? Marie has gained nothing by sticking around helping these ungrateful ass witches. I honestly would have preferred Prudence asking her to stay to learn more about Vodun, and them building a mentor/mentee type of relationship, especially since Prudence was the one who invited her and stepped to Zelda to defend her. I want(ed) to see that relationship go somewhere. The deliberate denial of healthy Black female friendships on tv is frustrating.

 These witches finally finding their power in their ancestors and I donno, some female creator or whatever, reminds me of white women “finding” wicca and praying to “Gaia”, (reminds me of BTVS s4 when Willow joins the wicca group) which is basically what happened but lol okay whatever. I guess they aren’t satanic witches anymore. Lol, I love how Harvey and Roz and Theo are teenagers, human teenagers, who have lead largely normal teenage lives up until this point, but see their loved ones tortured, deformed or murdered in hell, with basically no residual issues, and are all like, YES, let’s roll up on these adults with shotguns and swords and kill the FUCK outta these people!! That absolutely sounds normal! Like...what? Lol. God this is just so bad.

Also, I’m so confused by this aesthetic choice for Sabrina as Queen of Hell. Like what the fuck. Why is she dressed like a Victorian era queen, with shoulder and a broken rib bodice? What?!

This show is truly awful, this season made no more sense than the last two and now that Prudence and Ambrose aren’t together, I might be done watching. 

-20/10

[hermits-that-craft]

Night AU - Chapter 52 - Arc 2 - Relost

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/23509375/chapters/66540838 I’m sorry it took so long!

“You two are idiots.” Tango laughs breathlessly. “I can’t believe you got away with that.”

“But they did!” Zedaph cheers, smiling.

“Dude shh you’re going to wake up the hermits!” Scar stage whispers, and Cub snorts under his breath. Etho hums a song to himself, listening to Impulse and Scar play catch up with the others. 

“I can’t believe Scar has a god mode but I don’t.” Zedaph whines playfully. “I think I deserve a god mode.”

“I don’t know how to activate god mode though.” Scar says, hanging upside down off his bed. 

“Void nerfed you because you’d be too powerful” Cub says sagely, nodding his head as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“They nerfed you!” Tango cackles, falling off the bed as he laughs. Zedaph and Impulse soon follow suit, either sitting on the floor with Tango or getting dragged off the bed by the other two.

“We’re coming for you Cub!” Zedaph cackles, shuffling towards Cub’s bed. The older men quickly jumps onto his bed, standing on top of it as though his life depended on it. Etho snickers in the corner, watching as Scar is dramatically dragged to the floor by Tango.

“The floor is lava.” The words barely leave Etho’s mouth before the hermits are clinging to beds and fences as though their lives depend on it, all shooting half hearted glares at Etho.

“I thought you were asleep!” Scar says, hanging off of the fence post that the lantern is held up by.

“I didn’t think you could jump that high!” Etho counters, and the group laughs, Scar slowly lowering himself to the ground.

“Well sometimes you just gotta up you know?”

“‘Well sometimes you just gotta up.’” Zedaph quotes. “Wise words from mister GoodtimeswithScar.”

Everyone pauses, dread replacing the joy as their communicators hum in unison. Scar and Impulse both immediately shake their heads, not willing to find out if Doc or Ren are dead, or worse. No one wants to look, to find out the terrible news. To find out if a friend is dead. Killed and respawned, or their body found somewhere. Cub pulls Scar into a comforting hug, though nothing on his face could be described as anything but horrified. Zedaph taps Impulse’s hands gently, grounding the man. Tango looks at Etho, pleading with him to check with his eyes. Etho nods, and Tango lets out a relieved sigh as Etho pulls out his communicator. Horror fills his stomach, fear overtaking his common sense and brain as he reads, and rereads, the notifications. Tears slip out of his eyes, and vomit threatens to force its way out of his throat.

TheJungle has entered the server.

TheJungle: Night, I want the nHo back. I will join you if you give them to me. TheNight: I already have 1/ 4 ready for you. TheJungle: Omw

“Good news and bad news, everyone.” Etho says, his voice soft. “Night doesn’t have Doc or Beef anymore.”

“The bad news?” Tango’s voice sounds like it's traveling through a wall of honey, but Etho swallows, trying to force the fear and tears down his throat.

“The jungle is back.”

---

Iskall and Etho walk along the edge of the shopping district, Iskall quietly testing his new robotic arm. It’s been painted white, and it responds well to his movements, though he leans towards it as he walks. Etho keeps an eye on his, helping him adjust to the new weight.

“It’s kind of funny,” Iskall murmurs. “I just got used to not having the weight of an arm, and now I have to get used to the weight of one again.”

“It’s heavier than a norm- a non-robotic arm.” Etho catches himself, reminding them both that this arm is Iskall’s new normal. “So you’re going to have to get stronger.”

“Are you saying that I’m not strong.” Iskall jokingly asks.

“Yes.” Etho depans, before dodging a punch from the ex assassin. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes! Yes you are wrong!” Iskall pushes Etho gently. “I am amazing and strong and you all are weak compared to me.”

“Yessir.” Etho nods, pushing Iskall back. The pair laugh, turning around the hill before they freeze.

Doc leans on the side of the hill, his eye wide and fearful as he watches Etho and Iskall. His metal arm is gone, wires poking out of the gaping hole in his shoulder where the arm should be. Redstone, or perhaps blood, covers what is left of his lab coat. It’s torn to shreds, there’s barely anything left of the fabric that Doc took such good care of.

“Doc?” Etho asks, his voice quiet. “Doc, are you alright?”

“I need to go back.” Doc sways in the breeze. “I need to get Ren out. Oh Void, they’re going to slaughter Ren.”

“Doc you’re not making any sense.” Etho says, slowly walking towards his friend. Iskall looks at his new arm, frowning as his gaze hits the claps. “I’m sure Ren is going to be-”

“Take my arm.” Iskall says, his hand undoing one of the claps. “Get Ren back.”

“Iskall-”

“Get my friend back, Doc.” Iskall struggles with the arm, Doc helping his detach it from his body. Iskall helps Doc to attach it to his arm, Etho spluttering in the background. Etho watches and Doc pulls Iskall into a hug, a tear falling from his eye.

“I will. I’ll get Ren back.” Doc promises. 

Iskall leans against Etho as Doc flies off, a stray tear falling from his eye. Etho gently rubs his shoulder, humming to Iskall as the man struggles to contain his fear. Etho doesn’t - Etho won’t let Iskall relapse, he promised the other hermits that this would be good, healthy for Iskall. He won’t let Iskall lose himself.

Rendog burnt to death fighting Docm77 

---

They footsteps echo down the hallway, bare feet hitting the stone floors. It’s angering, this base in their domain - Night control the End and the Nether, surely they could have built a base in one of those. In any case, Night has an offer that he cannot refuse. Her long hair is in a braid, and she prides herself on knowing that she will confuse her father's sibling.

“Jungle, welcome.” Night says, their mask cracked. They look deranged, perfectly matching Jungle’s emotions. “I assume you are here to collect your players?”

“I will work for you until I get all of them back.” Jungle smiles, making sure that it’s just too wide. They scan the room, spying Beef and Doc. Two of their players. “I thought you only had one.”

“I had to lull the hermits into a false sense of security. I wanted to make them think that Experiment escaped.” Night nods to Doc, and Jungle turns his gaze to the man. 

It’s so, so painfully clear he’s scared. They can smell it on him. But he isn’t fighting Night’s control - or maybe he’s too weak to escape it. The fear only serves to break the two men further. Fear radiates off of the two men, though it’s clear that the stars that Night replaced them with are confused by their hosts’ fear. 

Perfect.

They can’t wait to bury these men in bedrock and vines.

---

“Dad?” Grian asks quietly, his eyes wide. Builder reads over the notification. Once. Twice, before he sighs. “What are we going to do?”

“I need to get something from the godly realm.” Builder says, standing slowly. Xisuma blinks, watching the god with distrust. “Something to counter Jungle.”

“Oh!” Grian lights up a small amount, and Cleo looks to the corner of the room, her mouth open as though she’s going to ask it something, “Are you getting Althea and Ella?”

“Who?” Joe asks, sitting on the table.

“My sisters.” Grian says without second thought.

“His daughters.” Rose points to Builder. “The goddess of Mushroom Islands and the goddess of roofed forests.”

Builder nods, before disappearing into the air. Xisuma wraps his arms around himself, his knees hitting his chest. Scar pats his back sympathetically, and Xisuma sighs.

“I can’t keep anyone out of here, can I?” Xisuma mumbles.

“You’re trying your hardest.” Scar says, smiling. “That’s all that matters.”

Rose summons some magic, using it to clear some of the dusk off of the higher shelves in the room. Cleo starts mumbling to herself, and everyone except Joe and Rose give her worried looks as she addresses her ramblings to Amari.

Three buzzes echo from the communicators, and Builder enters the room with two women. One of the wears a red cloak, a white dress and a brown leather corset, knives and potions hanging from it. The other women wears a simple red dress, her hair in a bob around her head, though she wears sturdy leather boots.

“You must be Xisuma!” The one in the red dress smiles, shaking his hand. “I love how you used my domain for the shopping district, It’s always nice to see people settle here!”

“Uhh, Althea you might want to introduce yourself-” The other, Ella, says, patting her back. “In any case, I want to beat up our sinling. Where the fuck are they?”

---

Amari watches over the group, as everyone settles in for the night. She refuses to allow herself to show to the mortals, and though Etho, Keralis and Cleo are kind and promise that the mortals would get used to her, she refuses to give them another reason to fear. She leaves the barracks, walking over to a small room that overlooks the shops. They glow against the night sky.

“Hello Madam Amari.” Joe Hills says, and Amari turns her head, surprised. “I assume you’re here, this is the nicest view in the building, though if you aren’t here I assume I look insane.”

Amari smiles, knowing that Mr Hills says this as he enters every room. Perhaps she’ll give him the sight, for being kind to her and her wards. Void only knows that kind eccentric people deserve a power that is from an unknown blessing, and prophecy is so very over used.

[nomnomsik]

Hello fellow human being! I was wondering if you could do a yandere!BTS reaction to their S/O thinking they're cheating? If you could do it, thank you so so muchhhhhhh

A/N: Trying to clear out my inbox with my older asks ~

Trigger warning: profanity, possessive behavior, manipulation, slightly disturbing behavior, yandere-themes. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. 

Seokjin

At first, he’d scoff at the idea of you being able to cheat on him since he makes sure his staff monitors you at all times. But then he realizes that there might be backstabbers and liars within his staff. 

He’s right as some of his security guards reveal that the softer men and women permit you to do things that he had forbade you from doing. Such as taking a stroll outside in the gardens or leaving your room. 

He roughly deals with them without your knowledge and watches as you grow worried and paranoid, asking him questions as if he’s oblivious. 

He thinks of how cute it is that you think you can outsmart him. It’s better that you have some knowledge rather than remain completely ignorant. It is more enjoyable for him to see your reactions. 

After getting rid of the pests that had backstabbed him, he would try and figure out who exactly you were running off to. Once he finds them, he’s going to have so much fun. 

Yoongi 

There is no doubt in my mind that Yoongi will truly believe you’re cheating on him if he has any hints of it. 

He’ll be extremely paranoid, never wanting you to go out alone or leave him somewhere. The number of syringes in his backpack will increase as well. 

He’s making sure no male species approaches you or they’ll get stabbed with this needle. 

“I won’t hesitate bitch” - don’t test him

If he sees ANY form of skinship between the opposite sex, he’s stabbing them, no questions asked. It doesn’t matter if they’re your brother, long lost cousin, you made him distrust you so you don’t get any benefits of the doubt. 

That mask on his face is never coming off for the next month or so. His dark circles will only get worse and he might inject substances in him to numb the pain he feels in his heart. 

Yoongi is very sensitive when it comes to love. He desperately wants to be loved and the thought of you cheating destroys him. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re his forever. 

Hoseok

He’ll make you work overtime to ensure you’re not cheating on him. Normally when dance lessons end, you are given hours to go out for the night and return home. But Hoseok demands over time, forcing you in the studio for extra hours.

You’re so burned out that even if you wanted to go out and have fun with your “lover”, you can’t. Your body is physically unable to do anything besides rest. 

“Oh, you had something you wanted to do tonight? Well, I’m sorry, y/n, but that performance was not satisfactory at all. We’re starting from the top and you’re not leaving until you do it perfectly 5 times in a row. Make a mistake and you’re back to zero.”

You can break through him somewhat, forcing some leniency out of him. But the next day, prepare for a thorough body check. It’s common for him to check your weight and health, but he’ll check for any signs of “marks” or odd “fatigue”. 

Even if you’re not dating, anything you do with another man is cheating on him and completely unacceptable. Forcing you to practice more is his form of punishment. And you improve. 

He truly believes he’s doing it out of love. 

Namjoon

Shit this gif what the FUCK 

If Namjoon thinks you’re cheating on him, he won’t panic about it at all. It’s a game of chess to him and he’s going to beat you. 

He’ll act like everything’s normal, but pick up on how you nervously dart your eyes and how you can barely look at him in the eyes. Obvious signs of guiltiness. 

Namjoon would love to make you feel like you’re doing the wrong thing by treating you much more nicer than usual. Complimenting you and being the person you first fell in love with.

He can’t help his manipulative and possessive tendencies. It makes him sick to see you next to another person. Why should he stop something that he gets enjoyment out of?

He still takes care of you. You’re fed and healthy. It won’t kill you if he were to be more forceful and authoritative in this relationship. 

If things were to get heated, he would whisper guilty things into your ear

“Nobody loves you as much as I do right? Nobody takes care of you as much as I do.”

“You’d never do anything to hurt me, right? Of course, you won’t. After all, you’re alive because of me.”

Jimin

Hello, Mr. Park here. Dom!Idol Jimin

You want to test him? Fine by him. He’ll have no problem dumping you away. He has no need for you if you aren’t loyal. 

That’s what he thinks, but he’ll never actually do it. He’ll definitely exude that kind of energy towards you, which frightens you. 

You’ll not be able to get what you want from him anymore if he gets rid of you. You subconsciously get closer to him, no longer using him for his status and wealth. 

However, if you did have someone you were cheating with on him, he’s going to find them. And when he does, you better be prepared.

All of a sudden, the person you had your rendezvous with decides to break it off. You’ll be devastated not knowing that Jimin paid great chunks of money to force that person away from you. 

You’re all his now. Like you were supposed to be. 

He’ll break you down, even more, telling you how faithless men were. Men that weren’t him. 

“Do you see how that man left you just because I paid him off? I won’t do that to you baby.” 

“Oh, did you think you were getting away with it? You can’t fool me.”

Taehyung

Taehyung… I don’t think he’ll ever notice. 

To be honest, he won’t be angry if you cheat on him because he’s more in love with what you look like rather than who your love is directed at. 

He’ll take it personally if you decide to disobey his painting session. That’s a big mistake. He won’t hesitate to get rough with you and show you your place. 

Into fire play and will punish you with it. Burns the “bad” paintings of you and likes to use the flames on you. 

If he thinks you’re “cheating”, he’ll get revenge on you just to make you understand how it feels like. He doesn’t like sleeping with other people, but he’ll fake it if it makes you obey him. 

Inside, he’ll be upset because he doesn’t feel adequate enough for you. He knows in his heart he’ll never be a partner that’s at the same level as you, but he wants to be. 

“It’s like you forgot I exist, right?” or “DO YOU LIKE SEEING ME LIKE THIS?”

Jungkook

If this man has any doubts in you and that you’re cheating, he’s putting on lockdown asap. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” or “I don’t remember opening this window up…” 

He’ll play the game with you. Fine. 

“You sure love playing around with me, y/n.” 

If you are cheating on him and he finds the guy, his life is over. 

“Who said you could touch what’s mine? I’m going to fucking tear your arm off.” 

He’ll probably bring the arm back to you and watch as your face morphs in disgust. You’ll be scarred with the image of the hand that used to gently pat your head now pouring blood onto the tiled flooring of his estate.

“This is why you don’t do these kinds of things, y/n. You’ll ruin everything!” 

[may-odaigahara]

Fandom: Supergirl

Ship: SuperReignCorp

Summary: Kara surprises even herself as she and Sam flirt relentlessly, much to the chagrin of Lena. Will the three women be able to navigate their increasingly complicated relationships, and will any of them ever just look up what “polyamory” is? Will they all be able to find their happy ending?

This is a no-powers AU

Hey guys, chapter 3 is up! Please leave some comments/kudos!!

Lena finds herself in CatCo, having been invited to speak at one of their all-hands-on-deck biannual staff meetings. Since L-Corp does, in fact, own the entire corporation, she can’t blame them for asking her to give a speech. She feels more than a little out of place, and focuses mostly on the excellent return-on-investment CatCo has been (something that Sam is always going on and on about), and ends with a few quick platitudes about the importance of good journalism and the value of unbiased reporting.

Lena hangs around throughout the entire meeting, since James is going to give a speech as well and that’s always pretty funny, and because there’s a meeting back at L-Corp she’s desperately trying to miss because all of the people in it annoy her. She tries her hardest to slip out and disappear once it’s over, but before she can get to her car who else taps her on the shoulder but her best friend, Kara.

“Lena, hi! That was a great speech.”

“Really? I thought you’d have qualms about my praise of unbiased reporting. I still remember the rant you went on about how there’s no such thing and a ‘lack of bias’ often skews towards the status quo.”

“Well, yes, that’s all definitely true. But it was still great! Sam’s been talking a lot about the ROI stuff, too. Economics and accounting definitely aren’t my thing, but making money is good. Means we can keep fighting the good fight.”

And there it is. A reference to Sam, already. Lena knows she shouldn’t feel this way, and thus pushes these feelings as far down as they can possibly go, but watching her two best friends (best friends she also has or has had crushes on) embark on this relationship together is hard to handle even when she’s at her best, and public speaking always makes her feel a little more fragile.

“You’re such a bleeding heart,” Lena says, attempting something of a playful smile at that. “And your job is safe. Keep it up and we might even buy you guys a second espresso machine for the break room.”

“Oh, I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” Kara says, grinning. “Daisy – she has an office near mine – already goes through, like four cups of coffee a day. A second espresso machine might be genuinely deadly.”

Lena laughs. For obvious reasons, she hasn’t been spending as much time with Kara as she had before she started dating Sam, but even this is enough to make her miss it. Kara is just so delightfully easy to be around, so willing to carry a conversation, so happy to tell even the dumbest of jokes just to make someone laugh.

“Well, I’ll certainly take that under consideration.”

“Hey, so, do you have some time to grab lunch? I feel like I haven’t spent as much time with you lately and we need to hang out. I’ll even let you choose the restaurant.”

Lena certainly doesn’t feel like she needs to hang out with Kara, mostly because she thinks doing so would slowly kill her. At the same time, though, Kara is looking at her with that look in her eyes and she sounds so genuinely apologetic about not carving enough time out of her schedule for Lena, despite the fact that it’s been Lena who hasn’t been making time for her, and there’s no way she’s going to say no at this point.

“Sure, I have some time. I’m taking you to a place that serves only salad, though.”

Kara presses her lips into a tight line but doesn’t complain, and Lena counts that as a victory.

Kara naturally orders what is genuinely the least healthy salad that the restaurant has – a some kind of monstrosity with blue cheese dressing and bacon bits. Lena just shakes her head fondly as Kara begins stuffing lettuce into her mouth while also trying her hardest to continue telling her story about how she and her coworker, Jemma, have discovered the perfect ratio of Lucky Charms to Frosted Mini Wheats to milk in their morning bowls of cereal. It’s silly and dumb and perfectly Kara to start a friendship over appropriate cereal ratios.  

It’s then that Lena realizes just how deeply in trouble she is. Because she wants this, she wants this always, to have Kara all to herself to tell her dumb stories from work and take her out to different restaurants around the city, to bask in her bright smile and blue eyes. It’s impossible not to fall for someone like Kara.

But, she could never betray Sam like this. Though it’s becoming increasingly difficult, Lena wraps up her feelings in a tight little box and shoves them off into a dusty corner of her mind. She thought that things would be easier now, having tried so furiously to stamp out whatever emotions she had the night of the gala, but everything seems to have gotten worse.

“Hey, what’s on your mind?” Kara asks, voice full of concern. “You seem a little off today.”

“It’s nothing,” Lena says, smiling. “Nothing. Just work.”

Lena swears that Kara can see right through her, see right down to her hidden feelings and buried insecurities and darkest secrets. Those blue eyes are so open and earnest that Lena genuinely considers simply giving all her secrets away, but there’s no way that she could. Doing so would result in ruining not one but two friendships, and Lena is low on those to begin with.

“Okay,” Kara says, plainly not believing her but also kind enough to not press the issue. She rests her hand atop Lena’s, who nearly begins hyperventilating at that casual contact. “Don’t work yourself too hard, alright? You deserve to take a break, just like anyone else.”

Lena laments Kara’s natural, earnest kindness – it is a torture too much for her. “Thank you, Kara. You’re very sweet.”

“Well, you are my best friend and all,” Kara says. “I’d get awfully lonely if you work yourself to death.”

Lena feels as if her heart stops.

Lena knocks on the door to Sam’s apartment and Ruby quickly opens it up for her, a bright smile on her face.

“Auntie Lena! You’re here!”

“I’m here, Rubes,” Lena says, drawing Ruby into a quick side-hug. “Where’s your mom?”

“Mom is here,” Sam says, poking her head out from her bedroom. “Sorry, I had to decide on which t-shirt I didn’t mind getting glue on.  

Lena lets her gaze travel up and down Sam’s figure – she’s just dressed in an old band tee and a pair of slim-fitting joggers, and yet she’s still so beautiful that Lena finds herself chewing on her lower lip just to have an outlet for the desire that coils up in her gut. It’s really not fair, Lena figures, that she happens to have a crush on both of her best friends.

“How do you look good dressed like this? It’s very frustrating,” Lena asks, feigning annoyance.

“Because I’m tall and hot, Lena. And you’re one to talk, given that you always look like that.”

Lena feels Sam’s gaze roam over her body as well, and she certainly couldn’t say that the attention isn’t welcome.

Ruby crinkles her nose. “You guys are weird.”

“Hey, kiddo, when you’re our age you’ll accept any compliment you can get.”

“I’m twenty-four,” Lena says flatly.

“I know! Compared to Rubes you practically have one foot in the grave.”

Lena glares at Sam, who just grins cheekily back at her. “Can we just start this project?”

“Fine, nerd, let’s do it. Ruby, could you please take the floor and explain to Auntie Lena why we’ve gathered here today?”

“We’re making a 3D model of an organelle for AP Biology! Mine is the endoplasmic reticulum.”

“Good job choosing such an easy one to do, Rubes,” Lena says, teasing her fondly.

As Lena had assumed, this little arts and crafts project quickly descends into chaos. Ruby is struggling to properly glue the pieces of felt together in the right way to emulate the folds of the organelle, Sam is having a harder time than she’d like to admit sewing on the beads that are supposed to represent ribosomes, and even Lena herself has already cut two pieces of felt in the wrong shape.

At one point, Sam groans out loud, grabs a bottle of glue, and begins attaching beads to the back of Lena’s shirt. Ruby giggles as Lena dramatically gasps.

“Sam, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, but this project is dumb and annoying.”

“So you’re also going to be dumb and annoying?”

Sam just grins at her as Ruby giggles. Lena, her face a mask of faux fury, grabs a sizable piece of felt and begins pouring glue all over it.

“Lena, don’t you dare,” Sam says, backing up.

“Oh, Lena dares, Sam.”

Lena advances on Sam, who dodges out of the way into the living room. Lena dances to and fro before lunging at her, who trips over her own feet and falls backwards onto the couch. Somehow, Lena manages to get tangled up in her flailing limbs and also loses her balance, ending up falling forward onto Sam. The piece of felt slaps against the wall and slowly slides downwards, its glue-soaked weight working against it.

Lena is laughing so hard and feeling so genuinely joyful in a way she hasn’t in weeks that she doesn’t realize that her body is pressing against Sam’s, the heat radiating from her body and settling somewhere deep in her gut. Her laughter fades in her throat but her smile doesn’t and Sam is looking back at her with an expression that mirrors her own. She doesn’t know what it means and it makes her insides feel like twin coiled snakes of guilt and desire.

“You gonna get off, Luthor?”

The way Sam’s voice wraps around the syllables of her last name is positively sinful and that’s enough for Lena to practically leap off of her.

“Sorry,” Lena says, smoothing down the now wrinkled front of her shirt. “I think I got glue on your wall.”

Sam cranes her neck to see the piece of felt sadly peeling off the wall and laughs.

“Yeah, you did. I’ll take it out of your salary.”

Lena just snorts and looks off to see Ruby staring at her, an unreadable expression on her face.

They all redouble their efforts and finish the endoplasmic reticulum, and Lena politely but firmly refuses Sam’s offer to stay for dinner and heads straight back to her penthouse, where she makes a beeline for her bed and lies there as the colors of the sunset bleed into her room.

Lena wakes up blearily the next morning and the lines of her bedroom seem entirely foreign to her. It takes her a while to realize that she fell asleep in her clothes last night when it was barely eight. She props herself up on her elbows. The light of the early sunrise slips in through her curtains, opened just a hair, and she stares at the way that strip of light illuminates her white sheets for a long moment.

Lena thought she was in love with Sam back when they were in college together. They would make one another laugh like nobody else could, they shared secret glances and smiles and, once, after Sam had put little Ruby to bed, they kissed in the dim light of Sam’s crappy apartment living room. In all of her life up to that point, Lena had never felt anything like she felt with Sam.

Lex was arrested on charges of insider trading a month later, which Lena has always found incredibly, tragically hilarious. They hated him because he was fixing the game, so to speak, but not because he had been funneling money to domestic right wing, white supremacist groups for years. So, after that, Lena decided that she couldn’t let herself get close to anyone ever again.

(Sam had been perhaps too understanding and let this all happen. She was even nice enough to accept the position of CFO and pretend like nothing had ever happened between them).

Lena didn’t let herself get close to anyone ever again, not until Kara came around. And, really, she’s the reason Lena’s in this mess. (Lena’s feelings are the reason she’s in this mess, really, but when is that not the case?) She had thought her feelings for Sam had faded around the time she started falling for Kara. She thought wrong.

Lena finally extricates herself from her bed and walks into her kitchen, soaked in the morning light, and hopes that settling into her routine will quiet her treacherous feelings.

“Hey, what the hell is up with you?”

Lena regards Alex for a moment and snorts. Leave it to her to be blunt.  

“Nothing is up with me.”

Lena tries to hide her pounding heart behind a veil of feigned annoyance, but with the way Alex is looking at her right now it’s like she knows, knows far too much about how she’s feeling.

“Something is always up with you, but especially in these last few months. You’ve been even quieter than you normally are. I mean, we’re at your favorite bar and you’re over here nursing a whiskey by yourself instead of kicking everyone’s ass at pool.”

Lena glances over at the pool table and spends just a little too long looking at the way Sam and Kara laugh over a particularly bad shot by Winn. Alex observes her and narrows her eyes.

“Is this about Sam and Kara?”

Lena begins to panic and it takes all of her experience as a CEO to keep her face an unreadable mask and still her body.

“Do you not approve?” Alex goes on to ask, an edge to her voice, but Lena is relieved that she hasn’t quite guessed her secret. Not yet.

“Of course I approve, not that it matters. Look how happy they are together.”

Lena realizes she must’ve said that too glumly, because Alex’s gaze is now painfully soft and she’s rubbing Lena’s back.

“Hey, don’t worry, Lena. You’ll find someone. You know, if I wasn’t married to the greatest woman on Earth, I’d take you out on a date.”

Lena raises an eyebrow at that. “Oh, you would, would you?”

“Yeah, you know you’re pretty hot, right?” Alex says, leaning against the bar. “You’re a little rich for my blood, though.”

“You’re an orthopedic surgeon,” Lena says flatly.

“And yet, you make as much in a month as I do in a year.”

Lena just stares at her, though it only takes a moment until Alex is laughing. Lena can’t help but join in, and suddenly, she feels at least a little better than she did before. Alex draws her into a warm side-hug and, as Lena rests her head against her shoulder, she completely understand why Kara loves her sister so much.  

“Hey, friends!” Kara greets, bouncing on her heels. “Are we ready to get started?”

Alex takes one look at her and pulls the brim of her cap until it’s covering her eyes. Kara sputters and readjusts it, looking terribly offended as everyone laughs.

“Jock Kara has returned,” Alex says. “Everybody watch out.”

“I’m not a jock!” Kara protests.

The group is silent.

“Okay, who thinks I’m a jock?” Kara asks.

“It’s so obvious,” Alex is quick to say. “You did basically every single sport you possibly could in college and in high school. Total jock.”

“You also spend way more time in the gym than anyone I know,” James says. “I can see it.”

“Yeah, but Kara also loves art. I remember when we visited National City’s museum of modern art – I don’t think anyone could’ve gotten her to stop rambling,” Lena says fondly, a thrill going through her just from being able to say that she has this memory of Kara that’s shared just between the two of them. “So, she’s an art ho.”

“An ‘art ho?’” Winn asks. “C’mon, Lena, that’s not even on the Nerd-Jock, Goth-Prep axes. And, besides, Kara is a total nerd, just like me.”

Everyone stares at him.

“Okay, fine, not just like me. But, Kara does have all of the nerd credentials – multiple degrees, a deep love of science, an ability to recall minutia about the pop culture she consumes…”

“At least I don’t play Magic,” Kara says, grinning at him.

“Hey, Magic is cool! It’s a lot of strategy and high-level thinking!”

“Right, totally,” Sam says, patting Winn’s shoulder. “You are right, though, Kara is a total nerd. She was at my apartment the other day and she spent half the time helping Ruby with her chemistry homework. Voluntarily.”

“Chemistry is fun!” Kara says. “I mean, they’re just getting into, like, stoichiometry, which is pretty basic but still very important!”

Alex groans. “Oh god, you are a nerd.”

“You’re the one with the biochemistry degree,” Kara fires back.

“Yeah, but I’m also super cool. Orthopedic surgeons are the jocks of the medical world,” Alex says, before turning to Maggie. “Right, babe?”

“Uh huh, you absolutely are, babe,” Maggie says, a playful grin on her face. “Very cool. Super, super cool.”

“Ugh, traitor.”

“Can we please just start this hike?” Lena groans.

Lena knew she would be in trouble. She knows what both Sam and Kara look like in athletic clothing, but to have them both here in front of her, a light sheen of perspiration on their skin as they conquer this hike with ease as they laugh and flirt, is just too much for her. They both had the audacity to wear perfectly form-fitting workout shorts and tight tank tops and Lena finds it nearly impossible to look away. Kara’s biceps alone draw her gaze back in about a half-dozen times.

“Luthor!”

She turns around to see Alex marching up towards her with ease, like the crushing incline of their path doesn’t even register to her. It’s incredible unfair that both of the Danvers sisters are in absurd shape.

“Danvers. What’s up?” Lena asks, trying to make it sound like she’s not terribly out of breath already.

“So, I was thinking about that conversation we had the other day, at the bar.”

Lena is surprised. That had been over a week ago, and Alex is still caught up on it?

“There’s woman who works in the admin department at my hospital,” Alex continues. “I think you’d really like her. She’s smart, funny, and attractive in a sort of ‘reformed punk/goth’ sort of way, which I can only assume you’d be into.”

“I never should’ve shown you those high school pictures,” Lena grumbles.

“Anyway, she’s single and aggressively bisexual – you would not believe how many bi pride flags, pins, and stickers she has around her desk – so if you want me to set you two up, I absolutely can.”

As Lena mulls the offer over in her mind, she can’t help but steal another glance at Sam and Kara. They’re walking side-by-side, their shoulders brushing even though the trail is wide enough to accommodate them both, and Sam is smiling in that way she only ever does around Kara and…

“Yeah, that would be great,” Lena says, managing a smile. “What’s her name?”

Chloe! You guys will hit it off, I promise,” Alex says, rambling off about her, and Lena hopes this is what she needs. A worthwhile distraction.

Lena gets Chloe’s number and invites her to a casual yet highly-regarded French fusion restaurant downtown. It’s fun, in its own way, to go through the rituals of going on a date, something she hasn’t done in a very long time. She agonizes over her outfit, she does her makeup and hair to perfection, and she even revels in the way her heart speeds up with nerves as she’s waiting for her date to show up.

Chloe is exactly as advertised. She’s incredibly smart, funny in a surprisingly and refreshingly sharp and biting way, and easy to talk to. Not only that, but she’s stunning, with warm, kind eyes, a strong jawline, and, as Alex had alluded to, the underside of her hair is dyed a hypnotic blend of blue and purple in a sort of concession to the days when he hair was entirely dyed in those shades. Lena genuinely can’t remember the last time she had a first date that went this well. Even her first date with Jack was awkward and uncomfortable at times.

Chloe isn’t Kara, though, and she’s not Sam.

And therein lies the problem.

[urcadelimabean]

I finally watched endgame and AAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Much better put together movie than infinity war obviously, but still had flaws. For the most part it let character have more time to experience emotions but there were still a few very stiff strange moments? I felt like the movie didn't give Evans quite enough time to act throughout and Sam greeting old Steve on the bench and only seeming to relate to him as Captain America as opposed to his FRIEND??? Not cracking a single joke about how this motherfucker went back to the past after they discussed how it sucked? Weird and out of character.

Tony and Nebula had a really interesting dynamic and i reeeeeally wanted to see more of them interacting!!!! Especially later in the movie. Love that tony stark angst 👌 and nebula is a great parallel to him with her redemption story/self hatred.

Tony completely melting down at Steve was an amazing scene and so painful but strangely satisfying. Boy they really need to work out their differences with some rough sex imo  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I need a Pepper/tony/Steve polyamorous trio where pepper and Steve are friends. I feel like they'd get along.

Not enough wanda!!!!! I felt like the scene where she attacked thanos was literally HALF the length if needed to be. UGH. Let her have a full moment of rage instead of one line. Tony Steve and Thor got to fight thanos much longer than her. Her moment was incredibly badass and did demonstrate how powerful she is but it still needed to be MORE

CAROL SMASHING THAT SHIP HHHHHHHH HOLY SHIT ALDJFMDBFBF WITH HER GAY HAIRCUT WOWOWOWOWOW WOOOW ...WOWWW

(Peter was literally so cute and adorable introducing himself to her. )

Speaking of me being gay, and a skipping forward a bit, Okoye looked SOOoooOooooOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOooo hot in that dress at Tony's funeral and it was only like 10 seconds of screen time in that scene but it was enough to KILL!!!! ME!!!!

Loki !!!!!! Loki is alive heh heh hehhhhh HEHHHHHH

Thor being comedic relief when he cries. really????? That pissed me off ugh.

Nebula literally killing her past self holy shit!!!! Wow that was an intense and very good scene. I LOVED EVERYTHING WITH NEBULA AND GAMORA!!!!!!! FUCK!!!! and also I may have a crush on nebula okok

Natasha's death was gross but unsurprising and pissed me off even though I'm not a huge fan of her anymore. Again, why do they need to show women perfectly gracefully poised in death? It also visually is sooooo anticlimactic to have this epic death scene be a short fall. Make it a gigantic cliff so you can't see her dead body at the foot of it. Ugh. Whycouldnttheykillclintinstead

"I am Iron Man." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭

Tony's death scene was so good WOW I mean ouch. What a way to wrap up his character arc. In a way he got everything he wanted, which was knowing they had finally won, and simultaneously atoning for all his past failures. Aauuuugghhhh. I "understand" why they killed him but....😭!!!!!!!!!!

Needed one more Nebula and Gamora scene at the very end, even just without dialogue, something to wrap their storyline up a bit more. A glance between them that makes you think about how nebula got her sister back (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and Gamora made that choice AGAIN in a different timeline. Like, anything!!! Just one more shot of them!

But seriously how incredibly is it that Gamora made the same choice so fast, she was just waiting for the right moment 😭

About Sam Wilson: as pumped as I am that he got the shield, as he should have, it felt like they ignored him for all of infinity war, killed him off without anyone grieving for him (whereas Groot, T'Challa, Bucky, Clint's fucking family, etc all had someone see and mourn their death) and Sam's felt very sort of ....it did NOT have enough weight for a character they're planning to make into captain america??? No one even saw him die! That and then barely having him visible in the endgame battle. "On your left" was an amazing moment but we didn't even see him appear on Steve's left with any closeup of his face-- that would have been a time for them to share more of a real moment face to face and properly show how important Sam is to Steve and give Sam any sort of visual and symbolic importance that he should have, given where they were planning to go with his storyline.

Other moments I loved: Thor being like "idk if this will work" and just mjolniring Tony back to life. LMAO. Also tony checking out Steve's butt. Relatable. Steve in the elevator making Nazis look stupid as fuck. Good shit. Tony being like, “uhhh, Potts.”

Other moments I hated: can they learn to fucking translate all the lines in a foreign language so they don't just dehumanize people? Not translating "DIE" or "WAIT" when a Japanese man says it is just annoying. Translate your shit marvel, ugh!!!

Also tony stark seeing his father.....not sure how I felt about that scene. It felt in character but still pretty fucked up. I get the desire to have tony come to peace with how shitty his father was but it just made me sad. So basically it was well done, but I didn't interpret it as some healthy closure I think they intended it to be. At ALL.

Aksjfksjdjf Carol needed more screentime but I'm still swooning over how she literally didn't BLINK when thanos head-butted her. She's like, what about it, you little bitch??????? And he had to use an entire infinity stone to get her off him. 😍

Again I really wish they'd treated Thor's grief more seriously. It was fucking annoying to hear people LAUGH AT HIM IN THE THEATER like him gaining weight and being sad is just some great joke. If haters don't like Thor when he's depressed and chubby they don't deserve him at all 😤 HE’S MINE

All in all I really enjoyed the movie. GAMORA IS ALIVE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[quarterfromcanon]

There’s A Reason Not to Want This (But I Forgot)

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 10 - 3 A.M. [2,418 words]

In retrospect, Heather admitted to herself that none of it was particularly surprising. Rebecca’s and Valencia’s joint effort to get over Josh was one thing while he remained single. It convinced them they had gained the upper-hand, that they took back their power and left a shared mistake in the dust at Electric Mesa. If he should be the one to bounce back first, however, and start a new relationship while both of them were unattached? A backslide into fixation was sure to be imminent.

They were all spending a mellow late afternoon together, and the dining room table was their shared work space. Conversation was sparse and consisted of mostly inane muttering, save for Rebecca’s less-than-subtle hints that she was not over her recent fight with Paula. Then Valencia declared her relief to be able to surf the web without danger of recent Josh content. That marked the beginning of the spiral. 

Heather was in the middle of damage control with some online Miss Douche users, and so she only spared the passing thought that a little digital distance was probably healthy for both of her friends. Rebecca and Valencia began drawling nonsensically about their present browsing. There was a gradual shift in their speed like a stealthy verbal tennis match. The more bizarre their comments, the more difficult they became to ignore. Heather abandoned her A.M.A. during the course of this indecipherable conversation and looked back and forth between them. 

Nothing had changed about their body language, but something was definitely amiss. Heather’s index finger traced pensively over the touchpad on her keyboard. Clues to what was happening under the surface might present themselves, but she had to be on the lookout. It was not long before both women’s jabbering departed from all reasonable explanation. Heather voiced the first theory that came to mind.

“Are you both high right now?”

Frankly, if that turned out to be the case, Heather was mostly disappointed she hadn’t been offered the chance to get in on it. 

No such luck.

Valencia and Rebecca had just become aware of Anna Hicks, alternatively known as Anna the Browbarian. Her sole life event of genuine interest to them was that she appeared to now be dating Josh Chan. Heather watched with an equal blend of annoyance and dismay as Valencia circled to sit beside Rebecca and co-analyze the stranger.

“Guys,” Heather interjected in an effort to pull them back from the abyss, “don’t do this. If you fall down the rabbit hole of internet-ing an ex’s current girlfriend, you may never come back.”

Rebecca shushed Heather and gave her arm a light shove. Heather did not allow the dismissive response to deter her. She continued to caution them against their course of action, but to no avail. They were already too far gone. Heather gave an irritable shrug. 

She lifted her computer and walked away from the table, but her departure was neither noticed nor remarked upon by the people she left there. “You two are completely ridiculous,” Heather grumbled on the way to her bedroom.

No reply.

That could have been the end of it. Perhaps it should have been, Heather conceded. Yet she seemed unable to leave them to their own devices. She reemerged from her room every half hour or so, under the pretense of some excuse or other, just to check on how they were doing. 

“I’ve gotta use the restroom. Did either of you already call dibs? ... No? Okay, cool.”

“Did no one hear the washer buzz? We’re just gonna leave our wet clothes in there for hours, like a college campus? So much young fun -- I really missed out studying from home.”

“Dryer’s done. Aaaand, uh-huh, right where I left you. What a relief. Maybe you should, like, stand up and do some stretches at least? Keep the blood flowing? Or sit perfectly still while you talk over me and ignore me. I’m sure that works just as well.”

“Gonna make some dinner. Don’t let the clanging pots and pans disturb you. Whoa, watch out, using both computers now. Mixing it up. Good for you. Divide and conquer. That’s scientifically sound.”

Rebecca and Valencia spent the entirety of Heather’s meal prep time arguing about the creation of a fake Instagram account to gain access to Anna’s personal photos. Fortunately, logic -- or at least fear of the law -- prevailed without any intervention on Heather’s part. She poured two glasses of water and carried them to the table. 

“Okay, clear a spot. You guys have gotta at least eat something.”

They both stirred a little as if they perceived her in their periphery even if there was no break in their discussion to acknowledge that. She plucked their servings of food off the edge of the island countertop and returned.

Heather nudged Valencia’s arm with the plate in her right hand. “V, check it out. Mini tempeh patties. We only have the makings for these in the house because of you. Do you wanna maybe try one?”

“Hmm?” Valencia finally tore her gaze from the screen. She turned to see what Heather was repeatedly tapping against her biceps and brightened. Her eyes lifted to Heather’s face with a touched expression. “Aww, they’re adorable! And they smell amazing.”

“Great. Maybe you should eat them, since it’s seven-thirty at night and the only thing you’ve chewed on since lunch is your own finger.” Heather handed the meal to her, along with a napkin to catch spillage before it could land on the electronics. 

Valencia took a tentative bite and groaned. “So good. And small enough to keep at least one of my hands free for typing. Good thinking.” 

“Yeah, you got me. All I want is for you to be able to keep searching.”

Valencia reached back and caught hold of Heather’s palm to give it an appreciative squeeze. “Thanks, Heathe. You didn’t have to.”

Heather watched Valencia’s fingers slide free from hers once more. “I mean, I kinda did since clearly neither of you were going to do it, but... You’re welcome.”

“Heatherrrr?” Rebecca wheedled while still clacking away at the keys. “When you were making Valencia cute little bean burgers, did you happen to throw on any --”

“Yours are the regular kosher,” Heather answered the question before it was voiced. “No lettuce or tomato.”

“Thaaaanks. You’re an angel.”

“Is that just a thing you call people who make you food? You said basically the same thing to my dad,” Heather reminded her.

The comment was ignored as the next page of Google results loaded. Heather carried her own dinner to her room and shut the door.

Long after midnight, Heather woke and realized she never heard the sounds of Rebecca getting ready for bed. She hadn’t picked up on the closing of the front door, either. Heather propped onto her elbows and tapped her phone to check the time. 3:28. 

She rolled off the mattress, hissed at the frigidity of the floor on her feet, and shuffled into the common living space. Rebecca was sprawled forward in her seat with one arm curled across the bottom of the still-open laptop while the other was crooked under her ear. Valencia’s forehead was resting against her crossed wrists, face concealed from view.

Heather shook her head. She went to Rebecca’s bedroom first and grabbed her pillow and blanket. The fabric unfurled and trailed behind her as Heather brought the provisions back to her slumbering companion.

“All right, dude. Your neck will be killing you in the morning, so we’re just gonna...” She curled her fingers under Rebecca’s cheek and lifted her head. “Ugh! Oh my god. Yeah, so, that was a whole puddle of drool my hand just touched. Did not see it until now. That’s on me. Here’s your pillow.” Heather dried the spittle from her skin with her sleep shorts. She draped the blanket over Rebecca’s shoulders. “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”

Heather��padded into her bedroom and opened the closet. She stood on tiptoe and pulled down a quilt that used to drape across the foot of her bed as a kid. Heather threw that over her shoulder and tucked the soft cushion from her chair under the opposite arm.

Valencia’s head had tilted to the side while Heather was gone. Strands of hair clung to her features. A few wisps twitched as her breath stirred them in passing. Heather reached out, hesitated, and then moved forward to coax the errant locks back into place. Her fingertips accidentally brushed Valencia’s lips in the process and their soft curvature against her knuckles made Heather’s insides feel like they all plummeted simultaneously to crash against her pelvis. She withdrew and tried to ignore her heart’s uptick in beats per minute. 

Heather tucked the quilt securely around Valencia’s shoulders and torso, hoping it would be enough to keep the bulky stitched cloth from slipping free overnight. The cushion posed more of a problem. She would need to touch Valencia’s face again in order to slide the padding into place. Heather struggled with the approach for a moment. Her arm formed practice arcs in the air as she tried to work out which angle involved the least amount of contiguity. Ultimately, she settled on moving to the other side, where the tumble of tresses could act as a barrier between her fingertips and Valencia’s cheekbone.

She established a grip in the narrow opening between Valencia’s forearm and her jaw. Valencia stirred but did not wake. The shift of her body brought the weight of her head down on Heather’s wrist. Valencia responded to the external source of warmth and snuggled against Heather’s open hand.

“Nooo,” Heather whispered desperately. She tried to pull free, but Valencia was heavy with the complete relaxation of a deep sleep. Gingerly, Heather lifted Valencia’s head away from the table and inserted the cushion into the empty space. She managed to free her arm and gave it a subtle shake at her side. “There. Now at least you won’t wake up with an imprint of your bracelets between your eyebrows.”

Heather prepared to go back to bed, but an open tab on Valencia’s laptop caught her attention: How to Know If Someone Likes You.

“Right, because they were doing that weird thing trying to guess who initiated all of Anna’s breakups,” Heather mumbled. “I mean, either way, it left her single to date Josh now, so like, does it really matter which of them looked disinterested in their selfies?”

Her voice trailed off when she noticed the introduction below the title. ‘What hints suggest that someone is secretly interested? Is there somebody in your life who may be giving you signs they want to go from friend to romantic partner?’

“Well, that’s some unfortunately appropriate timing,” she observed. Heather glanced at Valencia. She grimaced and rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna regret this.” 

Heather crouched beside Valencia’s chair and began skimming through the article. As she took in each behavior on the list, flashes of images appeared in her mind’s eye. 

Clue #1 Personal Questions Valencia wanting stories for every aspect of the rooms at her old house... being so earnestly fascinated by all the hobbies she let fall by the wayside and skills she never fully developed... prompting her just enough to learn how she really felt about her parents...

Clue #2 Changing Space Or, rather, eliminating it, Heather learned upon reading the paragraph. Valencia bumping against her as they climbed the stairs... often sitting so close they were touching from hip to knee... Valencia grabbing her hand to thank her even though a verbal expression would’ve sufficed...

Clue #3 Mirrored Behavior Valencia following her lead at the disastrous Sex Toy party, copying her body language and responses to the drama that unfolded, sticking so close to her side that sometimes they moved and reacted as one...

Clue #4 Eye Contact There were too many now, parading through her memory in a flickering series like photographs in a zoetrope. Valencia, never shying from her gaze, always lingering with warmth and trust behind her dark irises...

Heather frowned. Everything was stacking up favorably, but none of it felt irrefutable after a day of Valencia obsessing over her ex-boyfriend’s new flame. Besides, many of those meaningful moments could easily be attributed to Valencia’s concern over being a good friend. Their trio meant the world to her, and she was not shy about expressing that fact. 

If anything, Heather’s own actions might give cause for scrutiny. She squirmed uncomfortably with the knowledge that she’d been making a lot of exceptions for Valencia ever since they began spending regular time together. It felt important to help ease Valencia into this new world of female friendships, and to look out for her as the transition presented challenges. That being said, a commitment to offering herself as a dependable guide did nothing to explain away the quickening of Heather’s pulse every time their physical contact lasted for longer than was socially customary.

Heather’s sigh echoed through the stillness. “Guess I might as well read the last one.”

Clue #5 Special Attentiveness ‘When you are with the person in question, do they do the following: Offer you their coat when the air gets cold?’

Heather turned slowly and looked at the cover - her childhood quilt - where it lay wrapped snugly around Valencia.

“... Crap.” She dragged the scrollbar back to the top of the page and stood. “Nope, universe, we’re done here. That’s on-the-nose even for you. It is way too early in the day for you to be at-ing me directly, so just... chill.”

Valencia opened one eye at the sound of Heather’s voice. “Did I miss something? Is everything okay?”

Heather jammed her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “Don’t worry. You’ve still got hours before sunrise. Go back to sleep.”

Valencia tilted her head to indicate the vacant chair between her seat and Rebecca’s. “Maybe you could come out here too, so you’re not the only one sleeping alone.”

Heather laughed quietly. “Day-long lower back pain and breadcrumbs stuck to my chin. Sounds super tempting.”

A slow, sleepy grin crossed Valencia’s face. “Yeah, that’s fair. See you in the morning?”

“I’ll be around.”

“Mm-kay.” Valencia hugged the cushion and fell silent.

Heather strode back in the direction of her room, but a parting sentiment from Valencia halted her steps.

“G'night, Heather.”

Heather gripped the corner of the wall and looked over her shoulder. “Goodnight, V.”

[ninaahelvar]

The Blood On Our Hands (3/16)

Summary: Owen is a soldier, the captain of Alpha Team. Claire is one of the leading surgeons at her hospital. When Fate pulls them together, it pulls them apart just as easily. But they never seem to drift very far.

AO3

A/N: New chapters coming in the new year! I would hope for chapter 4 this year, but gotta pace myself! Enjoy this! I love this fic a lot! So, as always, my girl Clare (@doesitsaysassonmyuniform​) fucking pulling through with the edits this time around and killing me with her beta abilities.

It felt slow, the way the hot air moved past her, as Owen took strides towards the doctors and nurses. Claire felt frozen, the heat sticking her into place. It wasn’t as if Claire never wanted to see him again - hell, she didn’t really want to break up with him, if one could call it that. For her, it was the unrealistic standards she placed - stuck between wanting him and feeling hurt by his absence. And now, he’s here…and he’s so close. Claire couldn’t even be happy about it. At least he was alive.

“Isn’t that -” Claire heard Zia say.

“Yep,” Karen replied.

“And he just -”

“Yep.”

“Oh, she is gonna love this,” Zia scoffed, covering her mouth as Owen stood right beside Claire’s scarf, it sitting right next to him as though it waited for him specifically. Putting his hands on his hips, Claire watched his back, the strong build and perfectly square shoulders of a man with control written into his body.

“During your stay in Syria, The Descendants Camp will be in charge of your safety. I’m the Commander, Captain Owen Grady. Welcome.” He nodded, and the group of doctors replied with haphazard hellos and greetings. The other soldier that Claire had met - Alec, stepped forward.

“From here to our destination with Descendants, we’ll be moving in the CH47 behind us,” he explained, gesturing to the three other soldiers to move to the group,“you can only carry what you can fit in the duffle bags we’ve provided for you,” he explained. “The rest will be flown to us tomorrow evening, so don’t worry about anything - it will come to you soon,” he reassured. “We’ll be leaving ten minutes from now, so be quick,” Owen looked down to his feet, noticing the scarf and bending to pick it up. He looked back at Claire and walked to her slowly.

“His boots hit the ground in heavy thuds, and only stopped once he was a few feet from Claire.” He looked to her before extending the scard. Claire looked down at it, reaching for it tentatively. When grabbing it, her fingers grazed his, barely even touched, but it was enough for both of them to sigh at the interaction.

Owen didn’t say a word as he handed over the scarf. Claire didn’t even know how to respond to him -  with the way he seemed to look beyond her. She felt like she was nothing in his eyes. They parted as Claire had to pack her bag along with the rest of the medical staff. She clutched at the scarf as she shoved it into her bag and did her best not to sneak looks at the man.

Karen tried to talk to Claire the entire trip over to the camp, but the roar of the engines drowned out all conversation. Through the flight, Claire looked at her hands, not wanting to face her sister, and knowing if she remotely glanced at the soldier at the other end of the helicopter that everyone would ask questions. She felt too uncomfortable to even think about looking up to anyone.

Claire walked past the soldiers, only to be led by the youngest of the five in the company. He introduced himself as Cian, which Claire managed to say correctly to his surprise. The Irish and Scottish bloodlines were strong with them, and the pair laughed at the joint connection. It felt somewhat relieving to be able to get a conversation with someone that wasn’t going to be about how awkward this was. He was nice, and seemed to have an easy going spirit about him. He seemed less strict than the others around the doctors, willing to have a laugh at this moment rather than the rest who had square shoulders and didn’t allow themselves to breathe.

The walk from the chopper to the middle of the camp was short, but worth the heat as they arrived, the waiting soldiers beamed and yelled “Welcome!” as they all appeared. The soldiers raced over, greeting each with their code name, and where they were stationed - apparently for security reasons. The women suspected otherwise. It was a lot to take in all at once, but it seemed as though all the single men wanted to chat with the female doctors and nurses amongst those stationed there. All the girls laughed, except for Zia who asked bluntly where the female soldiers were.

One of the soldiers, Barry (or Snoopy as the others referred to him), led Karen and Claire to their own tent, giving them some basic information on the camp and how it ran. Their tent was with the other doctors and nurses, and on the other side of the the med containers which would be constructed within the next day or two. At one end of the camp was the dining area with a large table for lunch, and breakfast and dinner would be held in the chapel, on the other side of the camp. After that, he saluted the women and left.

The tent was a large size - big enough to stand and walk around in, with two cots on either side and a shelves for each person to put their things in. It was a reasonable spot to sleep, but Claire fell asleep on the floor most nights, so who was she to judge. Karen heaved her duffle onto Claire’s bed and collapsed down onto it, smiling up at her sister. She took up the entire bed, and Claire rolled her eyes. Picking up her own duffle, Claire threw it onto Karen, who groaned at the sudden crash of weight onto her. Claire laughed, watching her sister curl a little.

“Not much to put away when our stuff hasn’t arrived,” Karen groaned, sitting up right as she rubbed at her stomach.

“I’m too tired to do anything anyway,” Claire shrugged, sitting down next to Karen, who looked at her through squinting eyes.

“Knock, knock,” a voice sounded, before moving past the fabric of their large tent. The sisters stood and looked to the soldier that couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six. He looked younger than other soldiers. “How have you been?” he asked with a bright smile on his face. Claire and Karen looked at each other, trying to see if either of them knew him. “Don’t you remember me?” he asked, clearing his throat. He was average height, dark brown hair with golden hazel eyes. Claire felt like she... “I uh...ran away from the ER,” he said with a laugh and Claire covered her mouth.

“Oh! The phone thief!” she exclaimed. Karen chuckled, beaming as she recognised him.

“Private Rickard Dunn. Yes, that’s me,” he stated, before turning into

“What are you doing here? It’s so weird,” Karen said, looking at him fondly like he was her child.

“I know,” Claire agreed. “Jump up and down,” she nodded and Rickard frowned.

“What?”

“Was it your right ankle?” Claire tried to remember.

“Ah!” Rickard realised before jumping as high as he could up and down, landing heavily on his ankles. “Thanks to you I got fit and healthy and joined,” he said, breathing a little heavier and smiling to the sisters.

“You don’t steal anymore do you?” Karen asked, crossing her arms. Rickard waved it off.

“Nah, it was a hard time back then, but I’m living a better life now,” he explained and the sisters looked at each other before pouncing on the unsuspecting soldier. They hugged him tightly and told him to act right for the rest of the time the see him. He laughed and nodded to their request.

After they had unpacked their duffles, the two separated, as Claire wanted to make sure she knew the paths to take to and from each area as effectively as possible. If she could anticipate how to get places, she could probably successfully avoid a certain person. Claire wasn’t someone to shy away from people or awkward situations, but this...was different. It was incomplete from when they ended and felt even more so. They weren’t even together and it felt like they were.

Lost in thought, Claire tripped slightly, feeling the rubble of the dirt ground in her shoe. Untying her shoelaces, she took her shoe off and inspected inside, dumping it out on the ground. Before she realised it, she was being passed by Owen. In his hands he held a box, seemingly looking at the wrapping as he walked straight past her as though she never existed. He went inside the chapel and Claire lost sight of him.

Huffing, a little irritated by the non-exchange, Claire put her shoe back on and walked off to find anything else to do. Anything would be better at that moment.

*~*~*

Owen hid against the wall in the chapel, watching Claire from the mirror on the inside. It was positioned perfectly on her. He watched as she angrily put on her sneaker and move off. Owen hit his head against the wall and he looked at the box again. He really wished this was for him. Of all the things Owen knew, ignoring her was not one of them - give it up to heartbreak or a missed chance - he didn’t want to fall into those sudden feelings again. But she was Claire....a beautiful, breathtaking woman that stunned him with only a look.

Walking up the stairs to the office, seeing Alec on the computer, typing away on some report that Owen probably failed to write. Smacking the package down, Owen pushed it towards Alec. He continued to work and not pay attention to the box that sat in front of him. Owen cleared his throat and pushed the box again.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked. Alec glanced at it before going back to work.

“I’ll open it later.”

Owen clicked his tongue, “Nope. Not gonna happen. I can’t wait,” he said, hands on his hips “what if it’s chocolate?”

“It’s probably an explosive,” Alec replied, no change in tone. Owen groaned.

“You only die once,” he said, and Alec looked up at Owen, confused. Owen stepped back and said “let’s open it.”

Alec chuckled, standing and opening up the package. He started smiling, taking out some gifts. “Beef jerky for Lowery. Guitar strings for Cian. And Barry’s shows he’s missed on DVD.” Owen jumped forward, taking the beef jerky and taking a piece between his teeth, chewing on it as he looked at all the presents.

“You dumped her and yet she’s sending all of us gifts. What does she see in you?” Owen asked, sighing as he looked at the descriptions on some of the dramas Barry had got. “Where’s my present?” he asked. Alec reached in and pulled out a letter.

“Here.” Alec shoved the box into Owen’s hands. Empty. The box was empty.

“She’s unbelievable,” Owen scoffed, watching as Alec read through the letter, it seemed short - a small piece of paper with little writing on it. “By the way, she didn’t get you anything,” he mentioned as Alec folded the piece of paper back over.

“My present is on its way,” he said softly before turning to Owen. “I think Lieutenant Young is coming here.” Owen leaned on the desk, folded his arms and smirked at Alec.

“You’re shitting me,” he scoffed and Alec shook his head, handing over the letter.

See you soon - Z

*~*~*

“Sir, Lieutenant Zara Young was ordered to transfer to Syria with the Descendant company as a member of the medical team.” Zara’s father sat in his chair, looking coldly at her. When she was young, it frightened her when he gave her such a look. As she grew, she just understood that was her dad; cold, unfeeling, very protective. Being raised by her English mother, Zara had a mostly British accent, and rarely spilled to her American. Even with her dual citizenship, many people thought she was strictly from the UK. Until the army. Her father pressured her to go into medicine to work as a doctor in warzones. She complied. It was some of the only time that her father took much interest in her.  

“I’ll return safe and sound,” she commented as he remained silent. Clearing his throat, he looked at her, cautiously.

“You have to go there,”he said, and Zara knew what his tone meant; don’t go. I know who's there and I don’t want you around him.

“Yes sir, I’m happy to go,” she said, confident in her conviction.

“Like I’ve told you hundreds of times before. I like Owen Grady. He’s General material. I want him to be apart of this family,” he said bluntly, and Zara’s hands bound together behind her back. “You do realise you’re making Alec Warren’s life more difficult,” he explained, putting his hands together. Zara huffed, squaring her shoulders and challenging him.

“You can’t pull rank when dealing with this, General. Do you want to lose one of your best men?” she asked.

“He understood me and decided to remain a soldier,” he said, Zara sucked in a breath.

“I’m still mad at him about that. But he’s a real soldier, and I love him for that. I’m holding onto that man,” she said, and her father shifted uncomfortably. “If you interfere with my transfer, you’ll lose more than just Lieutenant Young, you’ll lose a daughter too,” she spat, and she finally watched Craig Young look frightened. “Sir.”

Zara saluted him, turning on her heels sharply, and walking out of his office, not waiting for his order.

*~*~*

Claire huffed, phone pressed to her ear as she walked around some of the ruins towards the fence around the camp. On the other end, Vivian talked about the hospital. On Claire’s end, she talked about how awkward this all waas. “Really? Zara’s boyfriend and that guy are there?” she asked.

“Yes! I was so nervous at the airport, I basically froze the moment I saw him. How pathetic,” Claire chuckled, feeling her chest go tight as she thought of how they interacted.

“You know, it could be destiny that you’ve been reunited like this,” she teased and Claire rolled her eyes, “aren’t you happy to see him?” Claire kicked at the ground, watching as the stones around her feet moved a few feet in front of her. She shrugged, trying to work through it all herself.

“Not really. It’s kinda awkward. The last time I saw him, I dumped him in a coffee shop before we even finished one date. It’s just sad,” she explained, sighing out her discomfort.

“Hello?” she heard Vivian say. “Claire, can you hear me?”

“Viv? Hello?” Claire said as the line failed. “Ah!”  Looking down, she realised there was no way she was getting any sort of connection back up. At least not at this side of the camp. “I guess this is the middle of nowhere,” she sighed, putting her phone away and glancing around at her surroundings. It was a dusty and barren place, where something could have grown a long time ago, but it was just dirt and dust now.

Up along the side of the camp sat an old army tank, left and now overgrown with weeds and grass. It was a stark contrast to the camp itself that lacked all of that. Across the area little kids roamed, playing with things they’d found and speaking Arabic to one another. Claire hadn’t learnt Arabic and knew very little of the language at all. She watched them happily play, until she saw one start to lick at metal from the ground, another trying to also taste the old thing.

“Hey! Hey, don’t lick that. It’ll make you sick,” Claire called out, and the pair looked to her before continuing to lick at the scrap. Claire started to climb over the fence, “wait there,” she said, jumping over and walking over to the children. Handing over a fruit bar, she took the toxic thing from the child’s hand. “Here,” she said, and the girl smiled as she unravelled the bar.

Before Claire knew it, she was being surrounded by the kids, asked something in a language she couldn’t understand. They tugged on her jacket, hands raised up to her face and the same word repeated to her as they begged for something. She couldn’t figure it out, and it felt claustrophobic to stand in the middle of ten kids, desperate for food.

“If you don’t have enough for everyone, don’t give them anything,” Owen’s voice spooked her and Claire stiffened. She relaxed as he walked over. He pointed back to fence, where a sign read ‘restricted zone’ indicating that she shouldn’t be over the barrier. “You don’t listen to many rules, do you?” he asked, hands on his hips.

“I didn’t -”

Claire didn’t get to finish what she was saying when Owen suddenly started speaking Arabic, the kids listening intently as he spoke softly. He didn’t seem intimidating, more of guidance in his words. Then, they all suddenly replied, cheering as they raced off to a section of the fence where they could get through. Claire watched them all sneak into the camp and she turned to him.

“What did you tell them?” she asked and Owen shrugged.

“If they didn’t go away, I’d start shooting them,” he said, barely changing his expression. Claire scoffed.

“Don’t lie to me, you’re not good at it,” she crossed her arms and Owen stepped in towards her, invading her space and making her suck in a breath. Why, after everything, did he make her feel so nervous, like a teenage crush?

“I call this a joke,” he said, leaning in and tilting his head to her, waiting for her response. Claire rolled her eyes and began walking away to the entrance the kids walked through. A few steps away from Owen, she immediately stopped, hearing a metallic click underneath her foot. She felt the shift and the definite click from something being pressed on.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, turning back to Owen. He was heading towards the fence they had both climbed over and turned back to her when she spoke.

“What?”

“Something made a noise under my foot,” she said, and Owen frowned, walking to her slowly. It suddenly dawned on her the magnitude of the situation. Her heart started to pound, her hands started to shake, and she was riddled with fear. A foreign feeling, but one that made her so fucking anxious she could barely get her words out. “You said this place was restricted, why is it restricted?” she asked, voice shaking. Owen replied without hesitation.

“There are landmines aro-”

“Did I just step on a landmine?” she exclaimed loudly. Owen stopped, lips pursing as he looked down at her feet. Claire couldn’t bring herself to look. “What do I do?” she squeaked. Then, Owen started to smile, standing where he was and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Owen!” Claire felt herself start to shake, everything but her foot. She could feel herself breaking, everything coming down and her whole body feeling like a tightly coiled mess. “What do I do?” she asked, a little more desperately and Owen started to crack, chuckling a little under his breath. “Please stop being an asshole and tell me what to do!” she begged, pleading with him for an answer.

“Don’t mo-” he started before cracking up again, his hands on his knees, smacking them as his laughs got harder.

“Are you laughing at me right now? Are you seriously laughing at me!” she screamed, her voice going hoarse and her eyes beginning to water.

“I’m sorry just,” Owen cleared his throat, before stepping towards her, “here,” he said, invading her space, foot shifting right next to hers, and their bodies pressed up against one another. To save herself from falling, Claire clutched tightly onto his shoulders, his hands still on his hips.

“W-what are you doing?” she stuttered.

“Getting you…” he said slowly, pushing her backwards and himself stepping with her. She was about to protest and pulled herself into his chest and braced for whatever was to come. Eyes shut, she clutched tighter to him. “To step off metal,” he finished, and Claire’s eyes flashed open.

“What?” Claire said, looking around them, untouched by anything. She looked up to Owen who was smiling down at her. “You knew!” she yelled, pushing on his chest. Rubbing at where her hands hit him, he chuckled.

“We deactivate all the mines around the camp,” he explained, and Claire huffed, the dam walls finally breaking, and the tears started to fall down her cheeks. Owen’s attitude suddenly changed, softening gently as he realised something was wrong.

“Go fuck yourself,” she swore, moving towards the fence and jumping back over it.

“Hey!” Owen said, running over and jumping over after her. Claire shoved him against the fence, pushing and hitting at him in every way she could.

“You could have said something to not make me panic! Your bedside manner sucks ass,” she said through a shaking voice, and her punches getting softer as her resolved weakened. Tears made her so fucking weak. She turned on her heels and went back to the camp.

“I’m sorry, hey!” he yelled after her. Claire hurried her steps, trying to keep a distance between them.

Claire could smell a festive barbeque raging, coming to the main area to see all members of the camp and some of the kids from before sitting around. Walking past the group, Karen called out to her, “Come join us, Claire! The steaks are amazing!” Claire let her hair fall in front of her face, clearing her throat as she called back.

“Save some for me! I’ll be right there,” she tried to sound put together, but she could hear the crack in her own voice. Moving towards the drinking fountain, she used the pump to dredge up the water and it sprayed into the large clean bucket. Claire splashed at her face as she heard a conversation behind her.

“How did you go?” Alec asked someone.

“I made her cry,” Owen replied in a murmured tone. It was a strange voice for him, somewhat ashamed of himself.

“Already. Wow. You work quick,” Alec scoffed.

“Shut up,” Owen spat back to Alec’s laugh. Claire dried her face before walking to the tents. She just wanted to hide for now. “Hey,” Owen called behind her and Claire rushed off, only to have her elbow pulled back softly and Owen to barge in front of her. “I’m sorry,” he apologised and Claire rolled her eyes.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, and Owen kept getting in front of her, walking backwards and eyes pleading with her.

“I’m used to fooling around with the guys. I crossed a line,” he explained, and Claire didn’t want to fall for those green eyes that mixed with worry and sadness. She could forgive them a thousand times if they looked at her anymore. But at that moment, she couldn’t. She had her pride wounded, and he laughed at her worry.

“Yeah, you did!” she replied.

“I’m really sorry,” Owen defended, hands raised slightly. She could attack him, beat him, and she would guess he’d still apologise to her.

“Okay,” she nodded.

The national anthem started to play, the sound ringing over a loudspeaker in the camp. Every soldier suddenly stood and saluted. Claire was about to walk past Owen when he raised his arm to his forehead, staring off into the distance. She looked at this man - someone she knew to be completely full of himself, out for a laugh and joy radiating off of him, to someone who stood so proudly, he couldn’t be anything other than a strict and noble soldier. Owen suddenly took hold of her shoulders and turned her towards the flag that hunt over the chapel.

There was silence as no one sang, the song continued to play, and the rest of the staff stood, watching the flag solemnly. “It’s really good seeing you again,” Owen said softly, an affection in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. Owen had usually flirted with her, or been outright unfeeling to her. This, a moment of clarity or desperation, he confessed when she couldn’t see him. Maybe it was the only way he could be truthful with her - when her eyes didn’t burn into him, trying to see beneath the surface.

She could relate.

It was the same way for her.

Claire wasn’t sure how to respond, so she stayed silent, letting the anthem finish and staying as close to him as possible. It was her way of saying the same thing. She just couldn’t get her voice out.

Not now anyway.

They managed to stay apart for the remainder of the day, Karen taking Claire aside and talking with her for the rest of the night. Claire didn’t mind - she actually found it rather comforting that her sister was here too, just so she could vent about all this mess instead of holding it all in.

“So, wait, he tricked you?” Karen asked, and Claire huffed, her head in Karen’s lap and looking up at her sister. They shared their large container of twizzlers, Karen putting a piece of her butterfingers bar in between her teeth as she looked down at her sister. Claire’s teeth tugged on the twizzlers, chewing on it as she got more comfortable.

“He just laughed, he didn’t warn me or tell me, it felt cruel,” she said, crossing her arms, and her brow furrow tightly.

“Well, to give him the benefit of the doubt,” Karen said and Claire sat up abruptly. “He’s been out here for eight months, he knows this camp better than anyone, and he’s used to it being safe,” Karen explained, and shrugged, “and he’s used to joking with guys...who are generally dicks,” to which Claire laughed, concealing her squeaks as Karen shrugged, “...he probably didn’t realise you’d act like such a little bitch.” Karen smirked, biting at her lip as Claire grabbed at a pillow and swatted her sister with it.

“Hey!”

“Look, Claire,” Karen laughed, taking the pillow and protecting herself, “sometimes your walls are so high, it’s hard to see past them,” she said and Claire sucked in a breath, “he saw you with your walls all the way down, and he liked it,” Karen smiled, leaning on the pillow.

“Yeah, men always like a vulnerable woman,” Claire scoffed.

“I think Owen knows you don’t need saving, but maybe he just liked seeing you a little more human,” Karen laughed, throwing the pillow back to Claire, and moving off of Claire’s cot to move to her own. Claire was left in her bed, their lantern dimming as the night drew in, and she was left with her thoughts, wondering if every day was going to be like her first. Clutching to her pillow, Claire cuddled it, hoping her time here would go as quickly as possible.  

In the morning, Claire, Karen, and Zia stood around, brushing their teeth as the soldiers were coming around for their path. Their chanting had woken up the girls, and admittedly, the sisters had been watching them go around the last four times. And each time, the soldiers smiled and waved to the doctors. Zia had even eyed her own soldier at the back.

“I think they do this every morning,” Karen said, leaning on the gate of the medical staff zone, her teeth freshly brushed. Claire spat out the excess toothpaste in her mouth and joined Karen.

“If they do this every day, I’ll never leave,” Claire sighed dramatically. Karen laughed and continued to watch the distant soldiers as they were coming closer. Shirtless, beautiful soldiers. The female soldier wore a tank top, but Zia didn’t seem to mind. She had a good imagination.

“Let me know what your plan is so I can move into your old apartment,” Zia laughed behind them at the large bowl of water, still trying to find the soldier of her liking. She was washing her face that morning, and squinting without her glasses.

They didn’t notice the captain walking up to them. He met at Claire’s side on the other side of the gate, and he waved in her face as she continued to watch the men. Then, Owen got into her line of sight, and blocked the view completely.

“I guess they woke you up,” he said, almost like an apology.

“Yeah, can you just move to the side a little bit,” she said, going on her toes, looking past his soldier as they started to run down the hill and wave to the ladies beyond the gate.

“What’s the schedule for the medical service team?” Owen asked, and Claire ignored him, paying closer attention to the men jogging by.

“Morning or afternoon?” she said, absentmindedly, and caught the sight of amazing muscular backs. God they were beautiful.

“Everyone,” Owen suddenly ordered and the group stopped.

“Sir!” They all replied in sync.

“You’re dismissed, stop running for the day,” he said, and the group saluted him.

“Yes sir!” The soldiers all started to run off, keeping their attention on their destination and were clear from Claire’s vision in only a few moments.

“You’re a buzzkill,” Claire grumbled.

“Both morning and afternoon, what’s your schedule?” he asked, his smirk making sure she knew; I’m your centre of attention now.

*

The medical team all loaded into the med centre, a collection of shipping containers all opened up to create a working space for a little clinic, as well as an operating room towards the back in its own container, in case of major injury. In a nice white and pale blue striped dress, covered by the medical team vest, Claire was feeling a little more in her element. Claire and Zia went over the day - blood tests for all the soldiers, making sure they’re fit and healthy, as well as treating minor injuries and concerns from the construction crew working on the power plant.

Walking to her desk, some soldiers already sitting at clinic tables with respective doctors, and a bunch more waiting, Claire noticed them following her to her table. Sitting down, she realised that the horde of them followed her and were begging for her to treat them.

“It’ll hurt a lot more if I draw blood,” she laughed, as Cian poked out his arm to her.

“I don’t mind pain, ma’am,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Cian, I think you’re a flirt,” Claire rolled her eyes, getting the instruments ready in a tray.

“Naturally,” he winked, before suddenly freaking out, “don’t tell my girlfriend, I flirt with everything,” he shrugged, and Claire shook her head. Then, the sea of men parted for Owen, who walked in behind them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Sir,” The group saluted, and he nodded his response. He saw Claire and turned, moving slowly to another desk.

“Excuse me! Yeah, Captain, you,” Claire called and Owen turned back, “don’t just leave, everyone needs blood drawn,” she said, pointing to the chair in front of her, and Owen walked awkwardly back to her. Claire put a tourniquet around Owen’s bicep, and prepped his arm.

“It’ll sting a bit,” she said, looking for the spot on the ridge of his elbow where she could stick the needle in. She jabbed at one point and Owen hissed suddenly, “that’s strange, I can’t find a vein,” she said, and Owen leaned in slowly, glancing around to the men that were watching this all very intently.

“I always carry a gun. A fully loaded gun,” he whispered to her.

“Do you?” she asked, and he nodded. “Then shoot me,” she shrugged and Owen straightened as Claire tried again.  “is this it?”

“Ah!” he hissed, “if you’re still mad at me about what happened yesterday,” he said slowly.

“I’m not as petty as you think,” she smiled, looking down at his arm again, “is this it -”

“It’s here,” he said, sticking the needle perfectly into his arm. Claire sat stunned, looking back to him and he smiled to her, “put the blood bottle in already.”

“Right,” Claire said, clearing her throat, finding the blood bottles and putting them at the end to finally draw the blood. Owen watched her, and a wave of embarrassment washed over Claire - she concentrated on his arm and nothing more.

As Claire was putting a bandage on his arm, there was a loud crash somewhere near the camp that made the entire med centre jump. Doctors became more alert and the soldiers seemed a little more at attention - two different responses, but one of instinct in both regards. Owen got his communicator, patching through to a desired frequency and called to the receiving end.

“This is the captain, what’s happening at the front gate?” he asked sternly. Claire watched Owen as his features changed. She wasn’t sure how he had so many different sides of him; playful and stern, kind and unfeeling, joy and void of emotion. Maybe it was how he felt when he saw her the day before; the sides he never got to see, he enjoyed the more.

“Front gate is fine. There’s been a car accident on a mountain road,” Alec’s voice radioed through from the other end.

“One of the construction crews trucks may have rolled,” Cian offered and Owen took in a deep breath. He gestured to his own team and a few others, making his way out of the med clinic and having the other soldiers in toe. Claire watched him

*~*~*

They came upon the crash site quickly, the van turned over several times and down an embankment. They drove there quickly from the camp, and hopped out to try and assess the damage from the top of the ridge. There was little smoke coming from the van, but they couldn’t be sure from the distance they were. From where they stood, it looked to be a UN truck, tipped onto its side.

“It looks like a UN cargo truck,” Alec said, “we’ll approach and see if there are any survivors,” he said to the following soldiers. Owen nodded to the orders given. He and Alec thought alike - their orders were always the same. Walking down the steep incline, Alec went ahead and saw one of the doors opening on the side of truck.

“Freeze! Hands up!” he ordered, gun at the ready. On the ground, a little battered and bruised sat a young person, fair skin - probably American. Owen couldn’t see him fully, only from behind as he went to the other side, and saw the other UN worker. Dead in his seat. Tattoo on his arm - one he recognised. T-shirt too tight. Glancing to the other, his shirt was far too loose.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m UN. UN.” He raised his hands. Owen snuck inside the truck, past the dead driver, and unhooked the keys from the ignition. “I’m hurt, treatment,” the UN worker told them, reaching inside the trust and going for the opposite side. He was reaching for the keys. When he saw they weren’t there, he groaned.

“I’m going to assume you’re looking for these,” Owen said, tossing Alec the keys. Owen took Alec’s place as he rounded the back, opening up the padlocked trust. They seemed to be tossing a lot of stuff around - heavy equipment. Before they could investigate themselves, the UN worker turned to them abruptly with a gun in his hand. Owen disarmed him quickly, smacking the gun across the man’s face.

“Isn’t he a UN relief worker?” Cian asked, cautious of the situation. Owen had seemingly just struck a civilian.

“Relief workers aren’t allowed to carry firearms,” Owen corrected, disassembling the gun, “this doesn’t feel right,” he said, looking down at the disgruntled man.

“The guns shipment in the back doesn’t either,” Alec said, holding up a SCAR-H sniper.

“Call local,” Owen ordered and Lowery moved to action. Cian took out his gun and aimed it at the UN worker.

They waited for the local police to come, radioed ahead and gotten all the information they needed. Everything else was up to the police, and the US had no more jurisdiction on the matter. The minute they handed everything over, it was no longer their concern.

“I checked with the UN and their IDs and vehicle are all fake,” Owen said in Arabic - or as close to the phrase as he could.

“We appreciate all your help,” The officer replied, saluting Owen, and he did the same. As they parted ways, the fake UN worker in the backseat almost seemed pleased….and Owen’s gut twisted as the car pulled away.

“We have to report this to headquarters,” Alec reminded Owen, to which he sighed.

“It’s a lot of paperwork.” Owen scratched his head and Alec shoved his shoulder, shaking his head back to his captain. Owen smiled.

*~*~*

Claire’s day felt long, one soldier after the other, construction workers coming in with small injuries and just little things that took barely any of her attention - it was slow, and so unlike what she was used to. She liked the rush of emergency, the ache in her back even when she hated it - she liked the blood of it all. This, this foreign country provided worse material than what the TV gig was doing for her. Claire went to the water fountain outside, pumping the water into the large container, and washing her hands. She pushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand, letting herself bathe in the sun, sweat beading on her skin in odd spots.

It felt like a long day - but it wasn’t even midday. Claire sighed, bringing herself to sit next to the water basin, and sighing. Maybe she craved the chaos of it all, the simplicity so mundane to her now that she couldn’t live without the anxiety of a messy accident. Maybe it was wrong to wish for an accident - but she wondered if she’d get any of that here, or if she would merely suffer through this experience from start to finish.

“Sir,” Soldiers saluted and as Claire’s attention rose up, she saw Owen walking beside Alec, quietly discussing something amongst themselves.

“Are you okay? Did anyone get hurt?” Claire asked, walking quickly over to them.

“It was a simple traffic accident. No need to worry,” Owen said, hands on his hips, and Claire was suddenly aware of how broad he was. Had it really never occurred to her before this moment that Owen was actually built to look like a marble statue? He stood tall with his stance strong and all his features carved to perfection. It was unreal.

“Are you okay? We’ve all worked in the emergency room before, so we’re prepared,” she asked, looking back to his face and trying to remain calm. She was barely holding it together. She should have been better at this. Owen smiled, nodding along.

“That’s good, I need to get going though,” he said, clearing his throat and looking towards his partner. “I’m off to headquarters,” he said to Alec and Claire nodded, trying her hardest not to say goodbye - she didn’t have to be polite.

“Alright,” Alec replied.

“Sorry. Alec, right? Can you tell me the wifi password?” Claire asked, reaching for her phone. Alec’s brow furrowed.

“Wifi password? Sorry, it’s against regulations for civilians to use army Wi-Fi,” he explained, and Claire grit her teeth.

“Ah, okay,” she sighed, kicking her foot in the dirt.

“There are internet cafes in town if you need them,” Alec explained, and suddenly Owen started to walk over, eyes wide and expression stern and angry. “Captain Grady is going past and can show you,” he said, looking to his captain, saluting him. “Sir,” Alec smiled and Claire could tell this was Alec’s way of shoving the pair together. Owen cleared his throat before gesturing towards the car. Claire nodded and headed over to it.

The car trip between them was mostly silent. It felt as though the two didn’t want to speak to each other - air so thick with tension that it made both of them cling to their side of the vehicle. Claire called ahead, trying to avoid the awful way the car fumed with this energy. She was messaged by Vivian, giving her contacts to lease a small clinic around Jacksonville. Calling the number, Claire talked at length with the woman on the other end.

“Yeah, I can send a deposit now,” she said, “I’m out of the country but I can do it online,” explaining further, “I’ll send it within the next hour and text you.” After all the details were confirmed, Claire put her phone in her lap, sitting back in the stewing tension.

Owen cleared his throat. “Are you moving?”

“No, I’m opening my own clinic,” she explained.

“Because of the fling with you and the owner?”

Claire turned to him sharply. “How do you know about that?”

“Whenever you’re not around, that’s all the rest of them talk about,” he said and Claire huffed, sinking down into her seat. “Heard from Karen that you kicked him in the crotch. Nice,” he said and Claire couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah well, that kick sent me here,” she said, scratching her face. Hiding her face from Owen, she looked out the window, seeing a small painted billboard on the side of the road. It advertised a beach with crystal waters and something on the crescent sands. “What’s that?” she asked, Owen peered to her side of the window and shook his head.

“It’s too far,” he said back. Claire folded her arms.

“I didn’t ask how far.” They sat in silence, driving past the billboard and continuing into town, the sea nearby and the air so crisp, it made Claire want to jump straight into it. Owen gripped the steering wheel a little more tightly, keeping his concentration on the road, and it seemed inappropriate to interrupt whatever he was thinking about.

In the town, Owen’s car came to sudden halt and Claire jerked in her seat. He glanced over her until his hand pressed to her forehead and pushed her back to see past her.

“You just need internet right?” he asked, and Claire shoved his hand from her skin. She cleaned her head as much as possible - the faint feeling of dirt or sweat sticking despite her efforts. She gave up, and turned to glare at him.

“Can you not put your hand on my head?” she spat and Owen turned off the car. He was already out of the car before Claire could ask him what was going on. He rounded the car, and opened the door for her.

Leading the way, Owen brought her to a one story building, with a patch of grass in the front as though it were a residential area. It wasn’t like the rest of the homes, just a little ways out, kind of out of sight but still accessible by the public. Pushing the door open, they walked in. Across the room were metal shelves lined with car parts, medical instruments, different currencies and passports to be made on location. Owen didn’t seem phased by any of it, but Claire looked through the mess with curiosity.

“This isn’t the cafe I had in mind, but it’ll be much faster,” Owen said, turning to Claire, still looking around the store. Then, a woman came around one of the many shelves lining the shop. She was blonde, not too tall, but pale - seemed American.

“Ah, the asshole soldier,” she said and Claire scoffed out a laugh, concealing it with her hand and feigning a coughing fit. Owen’s eyes narrowed on her but he still seemed amused by it.

“You have a good reputation, I see,” Claire said, clearing her throat.

“Where’s the owner? I thought Bellamy worked here,” Owen asked, scratching the back of his neck. The blonde rested a bucket full of assorted things on her hip as she leaning her hand on the front counter.

“Bellamy and I own this place together,” she corrected him.

“Where is he?”

“He’s currently held somewhere. If you know him, you’ll know he’s banned from most countries. I’ll kill him when he gets back,” she spat out and Claire raised her eyebrows, surprised by her willingness to confess as much to a soldier, “who is she?” she said, pointing to Claire.

“Doctor from the medical service team,” Owen said. Then, she suddenly stepped into Claire, breathing in deeply.

“Ah, that’s where I smelled the ethanol,” she replied and sighed.

“Who is she?” Claire whispered to Owen.

“Her real job is a nurse with another guy I know, I think this is her side job in the country,” he said, and the expression on the woman’s face changed, shifting to an uncomfortable and scared expression.

“How do you know who I am and what I do?” she asked.

“Bellamy told me once...about his wife, Clarke,”

“I’m not his wife! We’re just...co-workers,” she said, clearing her throat and tucking hair behind her ear. “What brings you here? I have everything except Bellamy,” she said, expression returning to a cold and stern facade.

“She needs to use your Wifi,” Owen said, pointing to Claire. Clarke seemed to think for a moment before rushing around the back of the store, settling things down and outwardly throwing things as she searched. Claire grimaced as she watched Clarke and turned to Owen.

“Are you sure I can use it here?”

“If you look closely, you can find missiles here,” Owen winked and Claire groaned at him, “wait here when you’re done, I’ll be back in an hour,” he said and turned to Clarke. “Keep her here for a while, and don’t fight,” he warned and Clarke shook her head, to which Owen leaned in extremely close to Claire again, “she’s got a gun,” he whispered, winking and leaving her in the company of the smiling blonde. Claire nervously smiled back.

*~*~*

Owen stood in front of Simon, his stance a perfect distance apart, and hands behind his back as he began to explain himself and his team. “At 10am this morning we transferred over one body and a member of a black market ring from the area to the local police, everything was under control,” he said, going back to ease.

“I’ve already been briefed,” Simon replied and Owen’s chest deflated, “you don’t know how high up this goes,” Simon warned, standing up and moving around his desk. It was when Simon came face to face with Owen did he realise what this all meant - that what they had stumbled upon was far out of Owen’s jurisdiction. Even so, Owen knew he couldn’t let it slide, that he could just watch this all play out for some fucked up gain on people exploiting those in the area. Either way, Owen was getting his head chewed off.

“I know you idiots in alpha team have no fear. But they have no fear and no law,” Simon continued to explain, “they smuggle weapons. Stay away from them,” Owen cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. Then, Simon nudged at Owen’s forehead - making him look directly at his superior. “You and I know you don’t have much time left here. Don’t get involved. When we get transferred back to the states, we’ll be promoted. Keep our hands clean, and everything will be okay,” Simon nodded, expecting Owen to agree. And it was an order. Owen clenched his fists behind his back and nodded sparkly.

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Write a thorough report,” Simon said and Owen lost his will to stand tall, shoulders sloping and hands feeling tight. Fuck reports. Stupid, long, boring reports. He wondered if he could pass it off to Alec. “And take this,” Simon said suddenly, handing over a sheet of paper. Owen started to read it when Simon spoke. “One soldier is being transferred from Descendant company.”

“Sergeant Warren?” Owen asked.

“He’s being transferred to special forces in training. It’s a direct order from the General,” Simon replied and Owen sucked in a breath.

*~*~*

It was dusty in the old building, hard to breathe in and the police vehicle rolled in. Standing there as the police officers brought out a young man in a UN shirt and three boxes of heavy material, he watched it all. They set them down in front of him. Slicked back hair, dark clothes, pale skin. Removing the scarf around his face, a deep and nasty scar ran up from his jaw to the middle of his right cheek.

The chief of police, who not hours before lied through his teeth to American soldiers, stood in front of the man. He cleared his throat as the man remained unmoved. “You cannot pretend to be the UN to cross the border anymore. They know now and have even dispatched the Americans. They’re patrolling the border now!” he said angrily, his English stunted by his own accent, but he was dealing with Americans.

And if there was one thing he knew about Americans - they don’t do anything that isn’t on their terms. The man in black moved to the boxes, removing the lid from one and grabbing a handgun. Then, he cocked it and pointed it at the chief of police.

“We switched over,” The man in black said, American accent so thick compared to the Syrian police officer.

“Take it easy!” The chief said, removing the handcuffs from the subordinate. “If things go bad there’s only so much I can do,” he replied nervously, and the man shrugged.

“Well, you know I have my people in high positions,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bundle of bills. “Dead presidents?” he asked and the chief lit up. If only he had known better. The man in black threw the cash at him, and the chief fumbled it. As he reached for it on the ground, the man in black fired his weapon and the chief was dead. He was a skilled shot and always had been. The other officers stood in shock as the chief laid dead on the floor. “Congratulations, you just got promoted. Don’t forget your present,” The man said, the bundle of money sitting beside a pool of blood, almost touched by death - and the man just watched.

He never cared for the police chief anyway.

*~*~*

Alec sat in the chapel office, staring at the piece of paper and wondering why Owen didn’t deliver it himself. He was always a slacker, handing things off to others. Alec deserved to get this from his captain. But at least Barry didn’t ask questions and knew when to leave when he wasn’t wanted. “You’re excused,” Alec replied softly. Barry saluted before he stopped himself.

“Sorry, sergeant,” he said back and Alec nodded.

“Me too.”

In the back of his mind, he knew where he went wrong - he knew exactly what he had done to deserve this. But he wished - oh god, he wished - that she never found out.

*

“Everyone stop!” a superior yelled in the mess hall.

“Attention,” General Young said and Alec stiffened.

“Sir,” said one. Alec could hear the voices behind him. He knew why the General was there, and everything in his gut twisted, everything feeling like someone was reaching inside him and rearranging all his organs for the fun of it.

“Battalions three and five are having lunch, sir,” said a captain in the area.

“At ease,” General Young said, walking the length of the mess hall. “Keep up the good work. I’m here to eat with you all today, don’t mind me!”

“Yes, sir,” replied the battalions. Then, General Young sat down opposite Alec. He didn’t move, he stayed at attention. As the mess began to empty and it was left with only Alec and the General, there was silence between them. The General had finished his meal. Alec’s went untouched.

“Sergeant Alec Warren,” General Young said.

“Sergeant Alec Warren, sir!” Alec replied promptly.

“Are you seeing my daughter?” he asked. Alec’s mouth went dry.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m worried about Zara’s future. I hope you consider her future too,” he paused and Alec sucked in a breath, “don’t hurt her when it all falls apart.”

Alec’s hands bound in the material in his pants, fisted so tightly, he could feel his nails digging in through the material. “Is that an order?”

“I hope not, but if it has to be, it will. It’s up to you how you and I can keep our relationship honourable,” he said, and left Alex alone.

He didn’t feel like eating, and instead, he rested his head in his hands.

How the fuck was he going to do this?

She was going to kill him.

*

Alec was in the barracks, his duffle freshly laid out and his things began to pile in slowly. It was mainly his uniforms, a few different books and all the toiletries he had needed over the course of his stay. It felt strange to leave without the rest of his unit, but he couldn’t disobey orders.

Then, the only thing that was left was the letter that Zara had left in his parcel. He sighed as he looked at the writing on the inside.

Your present is on its way! I miss you so much!

Oh, she was definitely going to kill Alec.

He sat on his cot, and stared at her hand writing.

It was the closest he could get to her.

And he missed her so much.

*~*~*

There was now a silence in the car ride that was not like the one this morning. It was different - not an awkwardness that either of them wanted to avoid, but rather, an anger that brewed from something that she had not impacted on. “Did something happen?” she asked cautiously.

Owen sighed, letting one hand go of the wheel and let it rest on the window of his driver side door. “One of my men is being transferred back home,” he explained. Claire knew who would trouble him like this. And she couldn’t just let him stew in something like this. She may not be a jokester like he was - but she could try to be funny. For his sake at least.

“Square jaw?” she asked, and Owen scoffed, nodding.

“Stick up his ass,”

“Alec,” she corrected them both and Owen nodded slowly, letting out a long breath. “Are you mad because he gets home before you or sad to see him go?” she asked and Owen shook his head.

“I’m frustrated because it’s an unfair order.”

“Soldiers have to follow the orders from their superior,” Claire reminded but the way Owen rolled his shoulders made it seem like it made him even more uncomfortable.

“This isn’t an order from a superior. It’s from a father,” he said and Claire remembered. Zara was an army doctor for a reason. She tilted her head and looked to Owen, positioning herself between the

“I was wondering how Zara and Alec met. Was it through the army?”

Owen suddenly chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that,” he smirked, looking back to Claire and gripped back into the steering wheel. “He was doing this four hundred kilometer walk. Lieutenant Young was put on the medical team,” he began to explain, the depth of it was like he had been told so many times by Alec - it felt like Claire was being told directly by Alec himself.

*~*~*

Alec watched the private collapse in the river. Although it was only knee deep, everyone seemed to be struggling to stay up right with their kits on their backs. He didn’t want to wade through the water again - his ankles felt raw and limbs felt far too tired. He glared down at the private before sighing, taking a step back into the cold water. He was too nice for his own good. He pulled the private to his feet and took the kit off his back. Hoisting it onto his own, he stared down the private.

“I’ll carry your kit. If you give up, I’ll kill you,” he warned and the private yelled back.

“Yes, sir!”

“Keep walking!” Alec ordered. The private raced ahead and Alec sighed, fixing up the packs on his back and began to job up to the riverbank. There, one of the medical team members walked forward and got in his path. She wasn’t particular tall - she had to look up to see him, but she looked like every other military woman; hair pulled back in a bun, hidden under her cap and her shoulders square like a man’s.

“This is your third time coming back, right?” she asked.

“What do you want?” he snapped. He wanted to get this trial over and done with, and she was interrupting his plan.

“Take off your boots,” she ordered and Alec’s brow furrowed. She crossed her arms and stood her ground. “You love your fellow soldiers and you want to win, but if you keep this up, you might have to accept a medical discharge, Sergeant Alec Warren,” she remarked, jabbing a finger into his chest where his name tag was sown into his uniform.

“Even if I have to accept a medical discharge, I need to win this thing,” he snapped. She scoffed and smiled through his ridiculous idea.

“You’re trying to win so you can get leave to go to your ex’s wedding and make a scene?” she asked, and as he looked at her with shock, she shrugged. “Everyone talks.”

Alec straightened his shoulders and pulled away from the medical team member. “Exactly.” And he continued on, still feeling her eyes watching him as he ran off towards the other troops.

*~*~*

“Really?” Claire exclaimed and Owen smiled as the car stopped.

“Really,” he replied. “Let’s get out.” Undoing his seatbelt and getting out of the car, Claire realised where they were. Well, not really. She was just so engrossed by the story, that she didn’t realise how far they’d gone from the camp. They were at the docks, where little speed boats and rowboats sat with paddles dangling in the water.

“What are we doing here?” Claire asked as she closed her car door.

“We’re going to the beach we saw earlier,” he explained, pointing to a sign by the entrance of the dock. The same picture from the sign earlier. Claire looked back at Owen. “I want to take you before you start getting too busy,” he said walking ahead of her.

“You said it was too far,” she reminded and he shrugged.

“That’s another reason. I want to spend time with you a little longer,” he said and Claire sucked in a tight breath. “Can you blame a guy?” he asked.

“I want to see a beach and hear the rest of the story, so no, I can’t,” she said back and Owen looked like he suffered a blow to the gut, but still had a smile pressed to his lips. Sucking on her teeth, Claire kicked at the dirt and cleared her throat. “So how did the rest of the story go?”

“Alec went to his ex’s wedding. With Zara,” he explained, and started down to the docks again.

“Why did Zara go?” Claire said racing over to Owen, and he looked proudly with his chin raised and smug grin on his face, walking to a particular part of the dock.

*~*~*

Alec had put on his suit, tie in hand and jumped into his car. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turned his rearview mirror towards him. He really wished he knew how to tie a fucking tie, because he felt ridiculous by the fourth time he attempted. Huffing, Alec swiftly tugged on the tie, flinging the material to the other side of the car and undoing the top button of his shirt.

As he did that, the back door opened in his car, and the doctor from earlier stepped inside, sitting promptly behind the passenger seat. “What do you want?” Alec asked, pivoting around in his seat to see the doctor.

“Congratulations. You’ll be able to ruin your ex’s wedding. And what do you know, I have the day off,” she remarked, feigning a smile, but there was a secret in her eyes - something she needed from him, and something she needed him for.

“I asked what you wanted, not what you’re doing,” he repeated. She sighed, moving forward in her seat and challenging him by getting closer.

“If you go and make a scene, she’ll be glad that she left you,” she said, and Alec’s brow furrowed, “but if you go with someone else, she’ll regret leaving you. That’s my plan,” she said, sitting back into her seat and waiting.

“I..” Alec thought for a moment and then stopped, “like it,” he couldn’t help but smile.

“On one condition,” she said, the mood shifting as she pointed into the front seat. “Is that mirror turned away from me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she said as she started to unzip her uniform jacket. Alec felt his face grow hot and he turned around completely in his seat. Eyes forward, keep the mirror where it is. “You know who I am, right?” she said.

“Zara Young. Your father is General Craig Young,” he replied, a crack in his voice that he had to cover.

“You see, my father wants to set me up with your company commander. Owen Grady,” she said after a moment, a little flustered and moving as she spoke.

“He’s here, came two days ago,” Alec corrected and she gave a frustrated groan before handing Alec some white heels. Climbing over the gap in the chairs, Alec noticed her dress - a simple, white dress that hugged at her waist and revealed just enough to make her appear delicate, yet beautifully sexy at the same time. Alec’s mouth went a little dry.

“Anyway, tell him you’re going out with me,” she said, sitting in the front seat and putting down the visor.

Alec wasn’t sure how to tell her that Owen wasn’t that bad - but at that moment, he didn’t want to bring up that guy at all. “You don’t like him?”

“He’s too much like what my father wants, not what I want,” she explained, letting her hair fall out around her shoulders, fixing it to the way she wanted. And for a moment, Alec thought he felt his heart stop. “Deal?” she asked.

“Deal.”

He didn’t need to hesitate.

*~*~*

“So, what? Are you in some kind of love triangle?” Claire asked as Owen lead her to the boat. He got the keys off the owner - seemingly already talked to him at some point due to the friendliness between them - and he jumped on board the small speed boat. He turned back to her, frowning, but he nodded.

“Yes.”

“Is it still going on?” He returned a nod again.

“Does that bother you?” he said, tilting his head. Claire cleared her throat as Owen offered his hand. She took it, and he pulled her straight up onto the boat.

“I was just curious,” she said, trying to find her footing, but failing on the uneven surface of the boat and the waves around it. As she stumbled, Owen pulled her into him, steadying her out and their bodies pressed up against one another. Then, Owen leaned down to her, eyes focused on her.

“Looks like it bothers you a lot,” he challenged and Claire swallowed hard.

“Does not,” she said, clearing her throat and finding the seat at the back. Owen smiled to himself as he stuck the key in the ignition and drove the boat to where he was headed. Claire couldn’t hear a thing over the roar of the engine, or the crashing of the waves against the boat’s hull, so their conversations were limited to just pointing and staring off at the blue vista that befell across the area.

The wind roared in her ears, hair flung across her eyes as she gazed out across the deep blue water. It was so clear beneath them, growing lighter and lighter as they approached the sandy crescent of the island - shallow depths glimmering in the sun. Claire huffed, pushing the hair out of her face yet again to get a glimpse of the mysterious object that sat on the shore. With a clearer eye, she made it out finally, an abandoned shipwreck. It was gutted through the middle, all rusted metal and ragged edges - but it was beautiful despite its wear.

The boat stopped on the shore and Owen tied it to one of the waiting posts to keep it from floating away. He helped her down from the boat’s edge and she walked across the sand. Her shoes sunk into the uneven ground and she made her way closer and closer. The shores here were different than back home - a combination of the fine sands she was used to, and pearl like rocks that were littered amongst the rest.

“This is oddly beautiful,” Claire breathed, combing back her hair into a manageable place. It wasn’t long before Owen stood by her side, watching her as she marvelled at the wondrous carcass.

“The wreckage?” he asked, and she nodded as she moved forward. They moved in step with each other, their footsteps so in time, that they echoed as one sound.

“It’s…” she started before she became embarrassed. “I’m not going to say that,” she laughed, walking into the threshold of the aching ship and Owen following behind closely.

“Say what?” he said before moving in front of her, their path cut short in the middle of the wreckage. “Come on, Dearing, you aren’t holding out on me now, are ya?” he said, raising his brow in jest. Claire laughed, walking around the edge. Inside the ship sat white stones, large and small, all surrounding the hull on any flat surface that could hold them. It was the specks of white amongst the rusted brown that made her heart feel warm.

“It’s like a body….the bones left after everything inside has just….fallen away. Bones tell you so much about a person. If they’ve been broken, if they were fed, if they hurt. Everything about this ship tells a story of how it got here,” she explained, walking along the row of stones, wondering how they managed to find their way inside this beautiful, hollow body.

“You have a nice way of looking at the world,” he said, following after her. Claire laughed.

“I’m a doctor. Everything I know is biology. I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ,” he said, a tenderness in his voice that had Claire weak at her knees. He had a charm - there was no denying it, but Claire ended things for a reason.

“Why did you become a soldier?” she asked, and Owen suddenly stiffened, taken back by the question.

“My dad was a soldier, and I always wanted to be like him. The minute I could, I joined up,” he sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. He wandered his own path, and Claire found herself following after him this time.

“So, family trade?”

“I guess so,” he said, looking down at his feet and bending to get something. He picked up a rounded rock on the sand and handed it over to Claire. “Here.”

“Thank you?” she said, “I love rocks,” she tried to smile but it was an odd gesture to her.

Owen laughed, holding her palm open and the rock sitting perfectly in the centre. “It’s a tradition, amongst locals,” he started, “if you take a rock from the beach, you’ll return with the one you came with.”

“I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” Claire said, trying to hand it back, but Owen’s hand folded her own, making her grip onto it and hold it tightly.

“Just….keep it,” he replied, “let’s see if it’s true.” With a smile, she was sold.

“Why is this ship here anyway?” she asked, pulling away and walking the length of the ship.

“Washed up wreckage, I suppose,” he shrugged, walking beside her again. “Haunted by the beauty around it,” he said, and Claire scoffed, an unexpected view from a man that didn’t seem all that poetic.

“Have you been haunted?”

“I have,” he said, “I’m sure you know.” Claire avoided his eye and clenched her jaw. He just had to be the charming type, didn’t he? “Are you still sexy in the operating room?” he asked suddenly and Claire’s stomach dropped.

“I’m not here to make a difference, I was pushed here against my will and…” Claire took a deep breath, her body bound in discomfort and her hand curling around the rock in her palm. “I don’t operate anymore. It’s not taking me anywhere,” and as Owen’s brow furrowed, Claire felt more ashamed of herself than usual. She wanted to get out of his eyeline - to stick to the corners and not be the centre of his attention. “I have to get back to the camp now,” she said, walking back to the boat without him.

“Right,” he said from afar, walking behind her. They didn’t speak the entire way back. The silence was needed, a finite time of joy was spent before their rift reformed and lines became clearly divided once more. Claire felt closer to Owen here...but at the same time, she couldn’t allow herself the joy of his company. It was all limited. They wouldn’t spend days like this - together and possibly happy. Countries and duties would always separate them.

Back at the camp, they saw a frantic Franklin, trying to pick up a local - and unconscious - Syrian boy but was failing to do so. Claire and Owen both rushed out of the car and brought him to the medicube, Owen laying him down on a bed. Claire listened through her stethoscope and when she heard no abnormalities, put them back around her neck.  

“He just threw up and fainted?” she asked Franklin. He nervously rubbed at his arm as he remembered the events.

“Yeah, it might be malnutrition, so I put him on an IV,” Franklin explained, but Claire already knew that, “he sounded okay though,” Franklin tried to reason and Claire touched his hand to comfort him.

“It’s not pneumonia, but if it’s anemia cause by malnutrition, his condition is quite critical,” she explained, moving forward over the boy. She touched at his stomach, finding a spot where the boy physically winced, even in his weakened state. “Pain between the liver and spleen?” she muttered.

“What about lead poisoning?” Owen interrupted and Claire felt something in her gut twist. She looked at Owen, and he had a disapproving look smeared across his face.

“Lead poisoning doesn’t show acute symptoms like this kids has,” Franklin tried to reason. But Claire thought of the day before. The kids...licking and sucking at the metal she took off of them.

“Was he sucking something?” she asked Franklin and he perked suddenly.

“Yeah, he was asking for food, I think and sucking on his fingers,” he explained and Claire rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

“We should detox him first,” Claire explained, “give him high doses of vitamin C and EDTA.”

“Is it lead poisoning?” Franklin asked.

“He’s anemic with malnutrition, and he’s consumed lead, his blood cells may have mistaken the lead for food and absorbed it,” she sighs and Franklin nods frantically.

“I’ll get the medicine,” he said, rushing off to the supplies.

“Let me know when he wakes up, I can speak a little of Arabic,” Owen said, hands on his hips as he began to walk away. Claire turned and sucked in a breath.

“Thank you for your help.” She knew he was angry with her - annoyed possibly - that she wasn’t seeing something that was so obvious to him. She didn’t like how he looked down on her in that moment.

Owen stopped in his tracks. He seemed to be contemplating something, the knot in his shoulders evident from even a short distance away. “You should know the common things that afflict kids in this area,” he said sternly and Claire straightened, “you’re a good doctor, but you should have looked this up. You can’t rely on a soldier,” he said and before Claire could even retort his statement, he was gone. Claire’s hand bound tightly and she so desperately wanted to punch something. Instead, she sighed, sitting down next to the child and going over his vitals.

Putting her hand to her head, she tried to forget the frustration that was built in her now.

*~*~*

Back at the chapel, Owen started a slow walk up the stairs. I’m a dick, I’m a dick, I’m a massive dick! God, why did he have to say it like that? Why was he being like this? Everything was going well, they were enjoying each other, then one conversation happened and it derailed all the groundwork he had put in. He had to stop on a stair to just mentally kick himself over this. He really was a fuck up. Couldn’t charm the pants off a fucking mannequin.

Then, as Owen started up the stairs again, alarms started to blare around their camp. Owen looked around, unsure of anything, and before he knew it, Alec was rushing out to find him. They met on the catwalk over the chapel floor and Alec seemed agitated.

“FPCON is now in affect in the medicube,” he said, and Owen’s eyes widened. The alert went out to all soldiers. Putting on bulletproof vests, arming themselves with guns and automatics, the soldiers lined up, and Alpha team remained in the chapel as they set up all the information they needed.

With faxes being sent through, everyone printing out information that may be relevant, and Owen on the phone with headquarters - it was working chaos. Alec rushed around him, getting Rick to head down and gather the medical team, more reports and documents being sent Owen’s way.

“Is the medicube hospital our operation zone?” he asked over the phone.

“A VIP patient is on his way to the medicube,” Simon replied, his team tracking the patient from his end. It was a while before Owen heard any more news from Simon - telling him ETA and who the patient was.

“Yousef Rahal. The chairman of the Arab League was coming back from his unofficial visit to Syria to sign a middle east peace treaty and suddenly collapsed. They say his vital signs are chaotic and can’t get him to stay conscious,” Simon said over the phone and Owen got the medical documents sent through. Going through this at a glance….it made no sense. He wasn’t a trained doctor, but he had some medical knowledge for field first aid, and what he was reading didn’t make sense. Hopefully it did to the professionals. “He’s an influential person with political and royal ties, and has had a number of threats against him in the past for his views,” Simon reiterated and that was Owen’s part done. Simon was patched into the comms system, and Owen’s direct line to headquarters.

This needed to be clean.

He couldn’t fuck this up.

Paper in hand, Owen went down to the medicube, the soldiers and doctors all assembled in the one place. In the front of the pack - leader of the entire medical team - was Claire, arms crossed and avoiding his gaze at every moment. He couldn’t blame her, this was all beginning to be a fucking mess. Owen put his hand on his hip, handing over the paper to Claire.

“These are the medical records of the patient,” he said. She snatched it from his hand and turned it around.

“Thanks.”

The medical team all came around Claire, crowding her and reading all the information over her shoulder. Karen’s head met Claire’s shoulder, a frown deep in her expression. “Everything is blacked out,” she groaned.

“What information can we get from this?” Franklin asked.

“We could misdiagnose him anywhere,” Zia said, poking her head around, examining the page herself.

“Are they just lies? See here? He can’t have both,” Xander pointed out.

“I’ve had to do this,” Claire said and the group shifted. Owen wasn’t expecting her to say something like that - but she seemed ashamed of having to know it at the same time as understanding it. “Powerful enough people can fake anything. He wants to hide something about his health, and not just anyone can know his true conditions,” she explained, “with that information it could be incredibly harmful.”

Owen nodded as the cars spend up past the gate and before the medicube. Claire selected her team and rushed in with the patient in toe. Owen and Alpha team followed the Chairman’s security team.

With the chairman wired up to all the monitors and everything starting to relax - well, as much as an emergency situation could relax - Owen got contacted by Simon. “How are things?” he asked.

“Nothing abnormal,” Owen replied, looking to the security team that seemed on edge, “he’s getting first aid treatment.” The security team, black suits and strong willed men, were standing at ten feet from the chairman’s bed, with Owen and his team standing to the left of it, standing near the medical team. Owen was the closest, Claire an arm reach away.

“Report back to me if anything happens,” Simon ordered.

“Yes sir.”

Turning to the team, Owen watched them diagnose him. They read over his vital signs, each trying to come up with possible solutions to the distress they were seeing.

“Blood pressure 175 over 110, pulse rate 100,” Zia said.

“His BP is high and his pulse is fast and erratic,” Franklin analysed. Claire seemed tense, her hands bound in the bed’s barrier. She looked back and forth, hair bouncing across her shoulders as she finally took a moment to breathe. In the second, she combed back her hair, pulling it into a ponytail. It was odd to watch - prepping for battle with something far bigger than herself.

“He’s drowsy, I think he may be hypoglycemic,” Xander said, hand on his chin, scratching it across his beard.

“He’s diabetic by the chart,” “we could give him insulin,”  

“Let’s treat what we know right now,” Claire said, moving

“Wait,” Said the leading security member. Owen motioned to the team to stop and Claire turned to him. “This is a prescription from the president's doctor.” Although Owen could speak little Arabic, he understood it well enough. He got handed a bottle of something and he handed it to Claire, explaining the situation quickly. She stared at the label and she wrinkled up her nose.

“Nitroglycerine?” she muttered.

“Why a blood thinner?” Franklin mumbled back. “He’s diabetic. A side effect of the insulin?” he asked and Claire huffed, shifting the weight on one hip.

“We can’t trust the chart,” she reminded and Owen watched the group intently, hands on his hips, but still maintaining a strong view of the security team that seemed ever more eager to start something, “give them to him, it’s the only shot we have right now.”

Handing off the medicine to Karen, she pushed it through his IV, the liquid pouring in. And the machines going haywire. The soldiers and security in the room straightened and hands went down to hips. The one place they could protect what they needed to. Owen remained calm, he couldn’t act on his instinct - he had two teams that would react wildly if he seemed stressed or agitated. Owen couldn’t risk that.

“His blood pressure is dropping too quickly,” Karen explained, the drastic change in his blood pressure even clear to the soldiers in the room.

“What the hell?” Zia cursed and Claire’s hand went to her forehead. Claire started to feel at his stomach, the obvious presence of bloating, or something similar through his abdomen.

“What’s going on?” Simon yelled in Owen’s ear.

“Claire, what’s the situation?” Owen asked stepping close to Claire. She shook her head, running through possibilities and trying to work it all out.

“He’s got a whole bunch of secrets. With his abdominal distension, blood pressure deterioration, my educated guess would be…” she started, her hand pressing to his stomach in multiple areas, “Hemoperitoneum,” she turned to him. Owen sucked in a breath.

“Layman's terms, please,” he asked, and Claire chuckled softly. It was odd to be in a situation where someone would have to say it. But, they both enjoyed the humour in the morbid, it seemed.

“There’s blood accumulating in the space between the abdominal wall and the organs inside,” she explained.

“What does that mean?”

“I need to open him up,” she said and Owen nodded, “We’ll perform a laparotomy. Prepare the operating room,” Claire ordered and medical team went into action.

“Yes, doctor,” the group replied.

“Hands off!” the leading security member said, gun raised and Claire’s team stopped. “Tell her to stop what she’s doing,” he said and Owen felt his hand shift down to his hip.

“What is he saying?” Claire whispered to Owen.

“You cannot operate on our president,” The man replied again, “The president’s doctor will be here in an hour.”

“The doctor will be here in an hour, we won’t allow you to operate,” Owen explained. Claire stepped forward, arguing her point.

“We can’t wait that long,” Claire said, looking up at Owen, “He will die in twenty minutes if we don’t operate,” her voice cracked, pleading with him and Owen nodded to her softly. Owen translated the phrase back, and the man stepped forward.

“I cannot allow just anyone to put a knife to the president,” he said, gun aimed directly at Claire.

“You are not listening, he will not last twenty minutes,” Owen retorted, and suddenly felt a hand bind into the back of his shirt. Claire sensed his anger, and though she was still concentrating on her patient, she seemed worried for him. Maybe it was the guns pointed at him.

“Only Arab doctors can operate on the president!” He argued and Owen assumed Claire understood, because she tugged on the back of Owen’s shirt softly and she seemed to relax slightly.

“Everyone stand down,” she ordered, “As soon as I take my hands off….he’ll die,” she said and the room went tense. Owen wanted to grip onto his gun, make sure this was an even fight - he couldn’t do that right now. Alarms started to become more erratic, a warning of the impending chaos that might ensue.

“His BP is dropping again,” Karen reiterated, and the room stood still, not moving and listening to a man dying.

Owen’s comms started to pick up, crackling in his ear as Simon patched himself through. He knew what Simon was like - efficient work, no headaches. Everything in his books needed to be perfect. Owen’s jaw went tight as Simon spoke.

“Listen to me, saving his life is not our concern. Our concern is who is responsible, do whatever the Arabs want,” he said and Owen agreed with him. “Even if the patient dies, it’s entirely the doctor’s responsibility for not operating on her patient.” That’s when Owen’s stomach sank. He shifted his gaze to his shoulder, seeing Claire’s red hair out of the corner of his eye. She’d be the one to blame. Owen swallowed back his anger as Simon said, “We shouldn’t get involved, that’s an order.”

Alec looked to Owen and he stared back. Could he trust his friend to know what he was thinking. Owen nodded and Alec....Alec shifted his weight on the balls of his feet.

I’m about to do something stupid. You in? Owen said in a glance.

Kill me. Yeah, I am. Alec said with a roll of his eyes.

They had sealed their fate.

“Do you think you can save him?” Owen asked, and Claire stuttered.

“What?” she said, muttering to herself before she formulated the words. “Well first I’d need to open his stomach, but somewhere along the -”

“I don’t need you to explain. Tell me if you can save him or not. As a doctor,” he asked, and Owen’s comms blared with Simon’s yelling voice.

“What do you think you’re doing? That’s an order, Captain!”

“Answer me, Claire,” Owen pressured. Claire jumped slightly, the tension in the room thick like a smog falling on a city. They were surrounded by it, unable to escape it without Claire’s answer. Claire chewed on her lip for a moment, quivering as she looked at the armed men behind him. “Claire,” Owen whispered and she looked back at him.

Her shoulder squared, her lip stopped shaking. As her chest rose, Owen could see the determination in her eyes.

You got this.

“I can save him,” she said. Owen sucked in a breath, turning back around. Switching his radio off, taking the earpiece from his ear and letting it rest around his shoulders, Owen took a breath. Hand ready on his hip.

This is it, dude.

Don’t fuck this up.

She’s on the line.

“Then save him,” Owen ordered, and Alpha team were in time with him. In a split second, their guns were out, cocked and primed towards the security team. Guns were aimed and ready at everyone in the room. Owen glanced to the side and the medical team were scared out of their wits. And behind him - Owen couldn’t risk it. Shifting his weight, Owen shielded Claire with his body, covering her completely. They were barely a few inches apart, but Owen needed to do this.

He was risking everything here.

Even his life.

For her.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Winter Wolf: Part 6

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Eventual Natasha x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff

Word Count: 3,957

Box Filled: Gender Swap

A/N: This series was written for @marvelfluffbingo​ and it took on a life of its own. Enjoy!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 

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

You were sitting in the living room, nearing the end of knitting a blanket for Wanda and Vision’s bed in the middle of the night, when you thought you heard a distant groan from behind you. Your head whipped around and you quickly hit the power button on the ‘radio’ Tony had made and dumbed down for you that was preset with songs and radios shows from the old days. A moment later, you most definitely heard a mumbled, angst filled ‘no’, so you gathered up the large blanket and your ball of yarn to figure out the source of the noise. You only had to go one door down when Bucky said ‘no Sam’ a little louder.

“Bucky.” You said in an even voice as you knocked on the door and pushed it open. “Hey Buck.” He whined in his sleep and with a sigh at invading is privacy, you walked into his room and flipped on his bedside light. “Bucky, you’re dreaming.” You said gently as you shook his shoulder. He bolted up straight with a loud gasp and you couldn’t help but gasp and jump back away from the bed.

“Shit… shit, (Y/N). I’m sorry.” He breathed as he crossed his legs under the blanket and ran his hand through his hair. “Did I wake you?” You shook your head as he looked over at you and took a deep breath to steady his racing heart.

“Not tired.” You said as you showed him the blanket. “Was trying to finish Wanda’s blanket so I can start on an embarrassing sweater for Steve, tomorrow.” He huffed a laugh and nodded his head as he scrubbed his hand over his face.

“Well I’m up now.” He said as he gestured to the TV. “Wanna finish it in here? We can watch some TV.” You ‘umm’ed’ as you looked between him, the TV, the door, and your blanket. You looked back at him and nodded slowly.

“Yea… yea that’s OK.” With a nod, he scooted toward you and pat the far side of the bed.

“Alright, let’s see this design of yours.” He said as he turned on the TV and turned it down. You smiled as you got up on the bed and carefully spread the blanket across both your laps so he could see it. You brushed your hand across the dark grey, raised patterned blanket with a smile.

“It’s almost done.” You said as you held on to the part you were working on so it wouldn’t come undone. “This one took me a little longer because of the size and pattern.”

“Wow, this is amazing.”

“Thank you. This was the only thing to really do during the Civil War.” Bucky nodded as he leaned back against the headboard and moved a pillow behind your back for you to lean on. “The woman that lived on the next plantation over… which was about a thirty minute walk mind you, we used to go back and forth on who’s porch we were sitting on to knit and wait for our husbands to return from the war.”

“You were married?” He asked as you leaned back on the pillow and went back to work.

“I was.” You said as you crossed your ankles with a nod. “His name was John… but he passed away in the war. Don’t go saying sorry now.” You giggled as you glanced over at him. “That was well over a hundred years ago.”

“Was he your only husband?” You nodded as you pulled the blanket toward you a bit as you came up to the end of the row.

“You may find this a little shocking but I’ve only been with two people in my life. I kinda had other things going on.”

“Wait, what?” He said a little loudly as he looked over at you. You shushed him with a laugh and nodded.

“Just John and Natalia… Natasha.” You corrected as you kept your eyes on your knitting to hide your blush. “I think… I mean… there are like giant chunks of my life missing and all still. But don’t you forget, I’m a lady and ladies don’t speak of such scandalous topics with men.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He chuckled as he scooted down under the blanket and got comfortable. He didn’t say anything for a while and you assumed he was into his show but you were absolutely wrong. “So… um… well is there a video or something of you and Nat somewhere that maybe I could preview for scientific purposes?”

“If there was a video and you saw it, I would have to kill you.” You replied without missing a beat or looking up from your fingers.

“Alright then. No video. Got it.” He laughed as he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. You smirked and glanced down at him before shaking your head and going back to the last dozen rows.

——

“Hey Buck, have you seen…” Steve said as he walked into his friends room. Bucky instantly shushed him and glanced down at where you had fallen asleep on his thigh when he was drinking a cup of coffee.

“She fell asleep around four and hasn’t moved since.” Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked at the clock on the bedside table. 

“She’s been asleep for seven hours?” He whispered as he leaned against the door frame. Bucky nodded as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.

“I’m not moving.” Bucky said as he held out his coffee mug. “But I’m dying for caffeine, man. And a sandwich, too.” With a nod, Steve came over to grab the coffee mug and glance at what he could see of your peaceful face around the blanket you had finished that Bucky wrapped around you.

“Thanks for this, Buck. She really needed some sleep.” Bucky nodded as he smiled down at you.

“It’s no problem.” He whispered. “Not one bit.” Steve watched his two best friends for a minute with a smile before slowly pulling the door partially closed behind him so you could get as much sleep as possible… and so that the boy he knew had a crush on the girl could have a little more time with her to get the nerve to finally ask her out. 

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

“I wish I had your hair.” Wanda sighed as she and Natasha worked side by side, twisting your long hair into an intricate braid to get it out of your way for your first training session in the four months you had been at the Avengers facility. It had been decided by both Tony and Steve when you had gone a full month with no voices around the team that you would slowly be trained as an Avenger to begin ‘wiping the red out of your ledger’ as Natasha always put it. 

“It’s not as much fun as you would think.” You said as you spun a pair of knives in your fingers expertly while watching Bucky, Clint, and Vision move the last few weights out of the way. “But I never cut it before and it would just feel weird to do it now.”

“Wow.” She said as she traded two of the pieces she had in her hand with two Nat was holding. “And it all looks so healthy.”

“Mutant hair.” Natasha said as she twisted the pieces she was given like she was supposed to and simply held them out of the way. “That was always my assumption.”

“You almost ready, (Y/N)?” Steve asked as he and Tony came into the large training room that had been cleared for you to spar with him.

“Ask the professionals.” You teased as you gestured up to the two women behind you. “I’m just along for the ride, here.”

“I’m almost done.” Wanda said as she grabbed the last two pieces from Natasha. 

“So I was thinking.” Tony said as he leaned against the rails of the slight platform at the entrance from the dorms. “Maybe we should make this a little more interesting.” Everyone in the room stopped moving and looked up at him as he gestured to you. “Give her a real challenge.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Natasha asked defensively, coming to your rescue immediately.

“Well she’s been credited as the most lethal wep… person…” He corrected quickly as the knives in your fingers came to a dead stop at his choice of word. “Training her against just one of us…”

“I’ll do it.” Bucky said instantly as he stepped forward.

“No, I will.” Natasha said. “She trained me. I know her style so there’s less chance of me getting hurt.”

“So Nat and I.” Steve said with a glance over at you for your approval.

“And me.” Tony said as he looked at Steve. “Give her a real fight instead of people who are gunna take it easy on her.”

“Hey!” Natasha shouted indignantly and you quickly grabbed her ankle.

“It’s fine, Talia.” You said as you looked up at her through your lashes as Wanda twisted the braid up and pinned it into place in a bun on the back of your head. Nat glanced down at you as you set your knives aside and you gave her a subtle nod so you wouldn’t mess up your hair before it was even finished. 

“Perfect.” Tony said as he pushed on the reactor on his chest, causing a suit to appear and spread out over his track suit. You sighed when Wanda told you you were done and got up off the floor. 

“Are you sure you’re OK with this?” Steve asked.

“Have to be.” You said softly as you looked as the sleeve of the long sleeved shirt you had on. You sighed heavily before biting the bullet and just pulling the shirt off, leaving you in a racerback tank top and a pair of stretchy work out pants you had borrowed for Natasha. You avoided looking at anyone; not wanting to see the shocked or disgusted looks at the sight of your shoulder, on your way to the middle of the room.

“Let’s go.” You said as you lifted your hands and waved your three competitors forward. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as Tony wasted zero time. He zoomed toward you as fast as he could and you stood perfectly still until the very last second. You bent your knees and leaned back as he closed his arms around the area you just were. You grabbed his ankle on the way past and threw him down on the mat on his back.

“Come on, Tony.” You said as you prepared for Natasha’s attack that was coming. “Don’t go easy on me.” You quickly let go of his ankle and threw your arm between your neck and her legs. With reflexes unlike anything the team had ever seen before thanks to not only your training and your mutation but also the super serum that enhanced those impossibly more, you spun her around your body and dropped her on the floor beside Tony before he could even think to get up.

“Little love.” You tisked scoldingly. “Come now, Talia. You know better.” Without even breaking a sweat, you back handed Steve’s shield right out of his hand and across the room. “You know… if anyone else wants to jump in, feel free.” You taunted as you got in a momentary fist fighting match with Steve.

“Is she serious?” Clint asked as you shoved Steve back and caught Tony’s metal fist inches in front of your face.

“I… don’t know.” Bucky said slowly as you barely moved out of the way of a round house kick from Natasha while blocking a punch from Steve at the same time. Both guys watched in awe as you delivered a good punch to Tony’s suit, easily crumbling the metal with your arm before you went flying backwards from a punch from whatever enhancement he had on his suit arm.

“Watch it, Tony!” Steve shouted as you rolled to your feet and raced back into the mix with a renewed vigor the team hadn’t seen before. You lunged Tony and easily threw both of you ten feet across the room with an inhuman roar. “Wanda!” You growled and went to slam your fist into the face mask of his suit before Wanda threw you backwards off him. She held you down as Natasha jumped onto your chest at the same moment Bucky slid across the mat beside your head.

“Look at me, my star.” Nat said softly as you struggled against Wanda’s energy. “Hey, it’s over now…”

“Come back to me.” Bucky said as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “This was a bad idea.” Nat nodded in agreement as you searched the blue and green eyes above your face. 

“OK.” You said after a moment with a sigh as you forced yourself to let go of the fight. “OK, I’m here.” You said with a nod of your head. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and leaned into Bucky’s touch as Wanda let off her hold on you.

“There we go.” Bucky breathed as he smiled down at you.

“She alright?” Steve asked as he took a knee beside you. 

“She’s with us.” Nat said as she brushed a few short strands of hair that had come loose from your braid back behind your ear. Steve nodded as he watched you look up between the two people hovering over you. Your heart pulled in two different directions as you looked at the woman that meant the whole world to you and the man that you were slowly but surely falling for.

“Alright.” Steve said with a nod as he pat Bucky’s shoulder. “Let’s get this place back in order.” Bucky nodded his head and gave you a small smile as Nat got up off your chest.

“Thank you for letting me watch you knock Tony on his ass.” Bucky whispered with a smirk. “That was priceless.”

“Yea, well I’d prefer not to make it a regular thing.”

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

“(Y/N).” Bucky said as you sat on your bed, writing before you went to sleep, while he laid beside you rewatching the fight from that afternoon on his tablet. “Babe, watch, watch, watch…” You smirked and looked over at the screen right as you tackled Tony to the ground. “Boom!” He shouted with a laugh as he rewound it again. 

“You’re finding too much joy in that, sweetheart.”

“Yea because it was super fucking hot!” He said as he hit play again. Your hand froze over the notebook and you glanced over at him with your eyebrow raised until he realized what he said. “Shit… (Y/N)…”

“It’s OK.” You said softly with a nod. “I kinda had an idea.” He smiled as he set his tablet on the  table.

“You had an idea that I would find it hot that you beat up Tony?”

“No…” You said as you set your pen in your notebook and handed it to him to put on the table as well. “I knew you liked me.” 

“Oh, did you now?” He asked. You scoffed and scooted down next to him.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You said as you crossed your ankle over your knee. “I’m older than dirt, I know everything.”

“Is that so?” He asked as he rolled on his side. “OK. If you know everything, then tell me…” He said as he reached out and walked his fingers across your stomach. “…when did I first have feelings for you?”

“When you asked how many husbands I’ve had with enough jealously in your tone to wipe out an entire city.”

“I was not jealous.” He said as he pulled his hand back the slightest bit but you grabbed it before he could.

“Oh, don’t go getting shy on me.” You said as you laid down on your side in front of him. “That’s my job.” He smiled as he laid his head on the pillow he had brought over from his room which had taken up a permanent residence on your bed in the last month he had been sneaking into your room to prevent each others nightmares. 

“You’re cute when you get shy, you know that, right?” He asked as he reached up and brushed your wavy hair out of your face. His smile grew as a blush raced across your face. “See, right there.”

“Stop!” You squeaked as you hid your face in the pillows. He just chuckled and scooted closer to you.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” He said softly as he ran his fingers through your hair. You looked back up at him with a smile as he tangled his fingers in your hair at the back of your neck. You searched his eyes and your smile fell the slightest bit. 

“You need to be patient with me.” You whispered as you placed your hand on his chest. “I don’t…”

“I know.” He agreed. “I have no where else I need to be.” You smirked and gently wrapped your fingers around the collar of his muscle shirt.

“Well I guess that’s a good thing for me then.” He nodded his head as he leaned forward and brushed your nose with his.

“Good for both of us.” He said against your lips before softly capturing your soft lips in his.

——

Despite the fact that it was nearly two in the morning and they were all the way across the dorms from you, you could hear Natasha and Clint arguing as if they were next door in Bucky’s room. You closed your eyes and tried not to listened as you mentally cursed your enhanced hearing, but then Clint said your name harshly and you couldn’t help but sit up to listen.

“…I swear, Natasha. Everyone sees it. All you’ve done is drool over her since we found her…”

“I do not!” She screeched back and you could hear the tears in her voice you knew she would never actually cry.

“Oh, please. You’re always with her, you only talk about the good old days with her any more, shit, you even moan her name in your sleep! If you want her, go be with her. Just quit fucking lying to me about it!” Tears welled in your eyes as you slowly pulled yourself out of Bucky’s arms and stealthily climbed over him. 

“Clint, I love you!” She said back as you walked quickly across the dorms to put an end to their fight no matter how much it broke your heart. But you couldn’t be the reason they broke up. “Yes, she has a place in my heart but I love you.”

“Sure.” He retorted, disbelievingly as you rounded the corner to their room and soundlessly pushed the door open. “You’re just saying that…”

“It’s not her choice.” You said as you crossed your arms over your chest. You met her tear filled eyes with your own and shook your head. “I don’t…” You swallowed thickly around the knot in your throat with one more shake of your head as you pleaded with your eyes alone for her to understand. “I don’t want her.” You could see her heart shatter in her eyes as you looked over at Clint with a straight face. “I’m with Bucky. I want him. Sorry if you were getting the wrong message from us but it was never the case.” You gave Natasha one last glance before forcing yourself to turn and walk away. You made it three steps before Bucky put his hands on your upper arms to stop you.

“You OK?” He whispered so Clint and Nat didn’t hear him as Natasha said ‘see, baby?’ to Clint behind you with zero heartbreak in her voice.

“I’ll be fine.” You whispered as a tear fell from your eye.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He sighed as he put his arm around your shoulder and lead you back to your room. He didn’t ask about what happened as he laid down beside you but as he put his hand on your hip, your tears fell softly on his pillow.

“It wasn’t something you talked about in my time.” You said softly as he slid his arm under the pillows and put his hand on your back. “Liking someone of the same sex… liking both sexes; it was very frowned upon. People were beaten and killed for being homosexual… for even suspecting it. So no one ever talked about it. And I never really looked at women that way so I just assumed I was just straight. But then I met Natalia.

I never meant to fall in love with her but I didn’t know what hit me. I was far enough out of cryo sleep that the parts of me that they fought to keep hidden were starting to seep through and after a hard day of training, where I got my ass handed to me by about five different Widows back, to back, to back, she was sent in to make sure my mutation patched me up properly. She had such soft hands…” A smile pulled at your lips at the memory and you huffed a laugh as Bucky brushed his fingers across your skin and listened. “She wasn’t the same Nat I know now. She was still young enough that there was a little spark of defiance in her… that is… before we both got wiped.” Your words fell off slightly as you looked up at Bucky, who gave you a small smile and nodded for you to go on.

“She’d sneak into my room late at night.” You said as you reached up and brushed your fingertips across his cheek. “Much like someone else I know. We’d just sit in the corner and talk until the sun came up. And one day I realized that I looked at her differently than I ever had before. I just… I fell in love with the beautiful, amazing, kind soul they tried to take away from her. But we both knew it would come to an end.” Tears raced to your eyes and you quickly looked away, causing Bucky to pull you closer and tighter. 

“Did you know adamantium can’t break? They realized that the hard way but damn did they try with anything you could imagine when they caught us. And I may not be able to regenerate limbs and they couldn’t replace them if they just cut them off anymore but they found out they could make it to the bone before I started healing the holes. It was just a matter of hours. But the real torture happened to my little love when they wiped me in front of her and put me in cryo sleep before wiping her, too.”

“OK, enough.” He said softly as he pulled you even closer. “I don’t need to hear anymore of what they did to you, baby. It’s over now.”

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed as you buried your face in his chest; apologizing not only to him but to Natalia as well. He let you cry it out and didn’t say a word until you were all cried out.

“You still love her.” He whispered flatly.

“I always will.” He nodded his head and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Can you still see yourself falling in love with me?” You pulled away from his chest and searched his blue eyes.

“I already have.” You breathed, barely audibly. 

“Thank God, I’m not alone here.” He said before crashing his lips to yours.

Part 7

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Come Back Down, Part 19

(This gif was taken from good ol’ Google. This is not mine and I take no credit.)

Title: Come Back Down, Part 19

Words: 1,937 (kinda short but has a punch!)

Warnings/Rating: PG-13; There are curse words and some depiction of illness. This story is not Danneel positive, but it does not reflect my personal feelings. Please just read this as the entertainment that it is supposed to be. There will be an explanation as to why she is behaving so strangely.

Summary: As the holidays draw nearer, Jensen, Y/N and his family try to celebrate with as much normalcy as they can manage with danger and drama seeming to lurk at every turn.

Come Back Down Master List

Hollygopossum’s Master List

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 In what I can only describe as insanity, I lived through letting Mom and Y/N drag me around to the boutiques in downtown for last minute Christmas Shopping. It was hard to slip away when I felt like I would heave anything left in my stomach and I’d gotten some dirty looks. But, I’d managed. Their happy faces and banter made the sacrifice worth it.

 I don’t even want to talk about lunch. Let’s just say I’ll never eat at Ghirelli’s ever again. Then, we’d driven through the first night of the Christmas Lights in another part of town. That had been a relief because I got to sit down and blankly stare out the window without having to control the expression on my face. I had no idea how I would be standing up again, but I pushed that thought to the back of my mind for now. Hiding how I felt from everyone was exhausting and I fought to keep my eyes open.

 That had been the highlight of the evening, letting Y/N snuggle in close in the backseat while Dad drove us through. My parents had been their adorable selves and held hands while talking about the different displays. It was basically the same displays every year so I was able to let my eyes slide closed and still participate in the conversation.

 The only mistake I made was to hand over my hot chocolate with the extra marshmallows to Y/N because there was just no way I would’ve been that giving of my Mom’s homemade hot cocoa in good physical and mental health. Especially when it had been laced with a healthy dose of peppermint schnapps. No matter how important you were to me, I never willingly gave up all of my favorites. Call it a flaw born of being a middle child and having to share with both an annoying older brother and younger sister. I didn’t learn to share. I learned to hoard.

 The amount of scrutiny that was received through the rear view mirror made the backseat extremely uncomfortable. I could feel that the flop sweat was only a few minutes away, itching underneath my skin as my abdomen pulsated in pain that had me wanting to curl into a ball and disappear.

 Y/N leaned in close, her lips at my ear, her cocoa and peppermint breath a little intoxicating and nauseating at the same time. How was that even possible? “I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you, but you’re not fooling anyone. I can feel the heat radiating off of your skin and even in just the dim lighting, I can tell you’re pale and rosy cheeked. So, when you’re done being stubborn, I’m here, okay?”

 Suddenly it was a little hard to swallow, my throat felt clogged with relief. Relief that she wouldn’t be upset when I finally came clean about what I’d been trying to keep to myself. I closed my eyes against the rush of emotion that pressed at my eyelids when she grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Okay.”

 She pressed a kiss to my hot cheek before settling in next to me in a way that didn’t cause me pain. Like she had already put the symptoms together and surmised the diagnosis way before I had. “Okay.”

 I was close to nodding off when we finally pulled into the drive way. The extreme relief of finally being home, with all intention of coming clean and crawling into bed were crushed when I saw her. Well, not her, but her red, flashy Escalade.

 It didn’t take a genius to figure out that we were here over the Thanksgiving holiday. The last thing I expected was for her to have the balls to show up and for me to find her sitting on the front door step, pregnant as hell. Could she have picked a better time?

 “You gonna be okay, son?” My Mom asked, obvious flush on her cheeks from the schnapps and a look of protective steel to her eyes. There was no doubt in my mind that the two women in this car would throw down in one way or another in my defense if I needed them to.

 “I’ll be fine.” I answered as confidently as I could, swallowing loudly as I felt the bile crawling slowly up my throat.

 Mom gave us both one last look, searching for any indecision before both of my parents got out of the car like they were practicing synchronicity. We watched them go, a moment of silence falling uncomfortably over the back seat as I could feel her vibrating with anger next to me.

 “Umm, this is completely awkward.” I heard the livid vibration in her voice clear as a bell as I watched my Mom and Dad walk past Danneel and into the house without a word. Danneel was stung by their inattention, but it’s not like I expected my parents to act like she hadn’t divorced me and then blackmailed me into staying with her.

 I squeezed her hand, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and whispered carefully into her ear. “You’re going to go in, sweetheart, and you’re gonna let me handle my own baggage, okay?”

 I knew letting all of my misery show wasn’t exactly playing fair, but it worked. “Jensen, you don’t have to do this, okay? You could just ignore her and go inside. We could get a restraining order or something.”

 “I know it sucks, but if I do any of those things, she’ll start more of a shit storm than she already has. Besides, if she’s the one responsible for your accident and barn damage, then we need to keep her calm.”

 “Fuck, but I’d like to punch her stupid, smug face, Jay. I seriously think it would help me sleep better at night.” The funny thing is, I knew it wasn’t a bluff and it brought a genuine smile to my face for the first time in several hours.

 “I know it’d make you happy, but I need you to help me out here and let me get it.”

 The angry blue bird was in full force as she nodded her begrudging agreement not to start anything, but to walk past and go inside.

 “I’ll do what you think is best, Jay. But, her ass is mine if she so much as touches you.”

 “Easy, Tiger. I got this.” I sighed, just the anxiety of seeing her here zapped all of my meager energy. However, as I struggled to get out of the car, I had a sudden moment of relief. It’s like the pain had gone down to a little ache and nothing more. Perfect. Just in time.

 I gripped her hand as we walked up the walk way, my heart hammering over time in my chest. God I needed an Ativan, big time. When we reached the stairs, I pulled her close and kissed her forehead. Lingering there as I took in her scent of wisteria and let it relax me.

 Then, I squeezed her shoulders, indicating that she should go. She didn’t hesitate, but if looks could actually kill? Danneel would be a smoking corpse. I waited until the door closed before I turned guarded eyes to her. “What do you want?”

 “Spending Thanksgiving with an innocent but chronically frumpy country hick? Really classy, and between you and me? I don’t think the smell of horse manure can be scrubbed off if it’s already oozing out of her pores, Jen.” There was a sneer on her perfectly symmetrical face, it leached any of the beauty that she may have held away.

 “You know that’s not true, Danneel. You know Mom and Dad would want her here, even if she did smell like horse manure. Of which, I can assure you, I have the privilege of being intimately familiar with every centimeter of her body. If she smelled like shit I think I would’ve noticed.” The words were like a lit fuse, the energy dragging out of me and collecting to form a fallout like the second pause before an explosion.

 “Whatever.” She stood, and it gave me a bit of satisfaction to still look down on her. “I’m here because I got served with new papers today. Right in the middle of the grocery store.”

 “You knew it was coming. You manipulated me, and this was my lawyer’s answer.” Was it me, or were the edges of my vision a little black and fuzzy?

 “You know this is going to paint you in bad light, picking on a pregnant woman, right? A brave woman who’s now on her own because her legal husband is playing house with his fucking country hick best friend.”

 She poked her sharp, perfectly manicured nail repeatedly into my chest, and I felt like my eyes were rolling in their sockets when I tried to focus. To be honest, most of her words were lost to the annoying ringing that had taken up in my ears just seconds before. Her angry, pinched face came in and out of focus and I randomly thought that she must be happy that her baby weight didn’t show up in her vapid face.

 “It’s also gonna effect Y/N, her reputation, you understand? I’ll make sure she never sells another damn print, Jensen. Is it that worth it to you? For me to destroy her life over your stupidity? All I’m asking is that you rejoin your pregnant wife in your own home. We can raise these babies, together. We could be the family we always dreamed of being.” I vaguely registered her ice cold hand touching my face as her voice started to fade out more and the world began to spin a little faster.

 Her voice grew in volume, the one that at one time I thought had been adorable, was making the ringing in my ears escalate into eardrum bursting and the darkness threatened to take over. “You’d do anything to get me back, wouldn’t you?” I was feeling so woozy that I couldn’t even berate myself for only being able speak like the words were forced to filter through a meat grinder first.

 “Yes, Jensen,” her relief was almost painful to watch. “I love you. We’re having our babies, finally. You still want these babies. I know you do. That was one of the requirements before you would even marry me. And I was on the same page, I wanted those babies so bad…” I barely registered her hands now sliding down my arms to rest on my nonexistent abs, my breath heaving as I struggled to breathe the air that seemed to be thickening to the viscosity of 50 weight motor oil.

 “Including scaring Y/N away. Maybe even getting rid of her permanently?” I was feeling gradually more breathless, my heart fluttering like rapid fire in my chest.

 The pause is what gave it away, the pause of silence as I struggled to keep my feet. It was then, as I was struggling to make it stop spinning so damn fast, that there was no doubt that she was responsible.

 “Are you kidding me… are you even listening… Fuck y-… Jensen? Jensen?!? Someone, help!!” My thoughts were a little slow, like slogging through marsh mud. My view of the stars disappearing after a sharp pain on the back of my head. Then it was all black. Nothingness. Cool black relief. I don’t know if anyone saw the relief and the smile that must’ve crossed my face. I didn’t feel any pain anymore.

Tagging Forevers: @tas898, @pansexualmeteorite, @mandymoiselle1970, @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @mysteriouslyme82, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @spn67-sister, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @pretty-fortune, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @justanotherdeangirl, @weasleywinchester, @easelweasel, @akshi8278, @wheresthekillswitch

Tagging CBD Only: @melissaj616, @katrena7, @deansdirtyduchess, @anticipate1003, @jellersquad, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @shamelesslydean

[elatedmarvel]

Shadow: Part 9

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky rescue someone from their past. Being hunted down, they bring you to the Avengers. Will it be enough to keep you safe?

A/N at the end this time.

Masterlist  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

Waking up was easy this morning. After the emotionally draining moments with Bucky yesterday, the night was full of physically exhausting acts. You smile to yourself as you think of how amazing he was. His strong and safe arms loosely draped over you as you burrowed your head into his chest.

Looking up at him, you traced his nose, and lips with the tip of your finger, trying to make sure he was real. He looked so perfect and angelic that your heart swelled knowing this man was yours.

His lips curled into a smile and gently pressed a kiss to your finger as he awoke. Waking up with you was always his favorite thing, but now it was in a bed that the two of you would share. You would be there every morning and he couldn’t wait. Opening his eyes, his cheeks flushed as he saw the look of pure adoration on your face.

“Morning” he rasped as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and just buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and it grounded you to the moment. He was real and right besides you like he would be for the rest of your life.

“Morning” you breathed out “sleep well?”

“Always, when you’re here” he said sincerely.

“We should get up and use that state of the art kitchen you installed” you smiled at him.

“And she cooks too. The whole package” he teases.

You laugh at him and slide out of bed, grabbing the closest item of clothing, his shirt, and letting it swallow your frame.    

The rest of the day passes in similar fashion, Bucky and you lazily exploring what your new home had to offer. Small but passionate kisses, touches, and hugs were exchanged as you cooked and he cleaned the dishes. You sat out on the balcony that was attached to your living room and looked out at Manhattan wrapped in a blanket and him. Talking about anything and everything and it all seemed to fall into place.

Six o’clock rolled around and after a steamy shower with Bucky you were sitting in front of your vanity doing your makeup for the gala Stark was throwing tonight. You stared at yourself and almost didn’t recognize the person that stared back.

She was without a doubt happy and very much in love. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, a healthy and natural flush to your cheeks, and a permanent smile. You could get used to this, to living with Bucky and not having a care in the world. You didn’t ever think this would be your future but now here you sit, happiest you have ever been and you didn’t want it to end.

So busy staring at your own reflection you missed Bucky coming up behind you until he started to massage your shoulders.

“You look ravishing” he whispers into your ear before playful nipping at it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” you moan. Meeting his eyes in the mirror you stand up and turn to face him.

“This suit will probably get you laid Barnes” you smirk at him before slowly walking to the closet and pulling out the dress you had bought with Wanda and Nat yesterday. “But this dress will definitely get me laid.” you teased.

Stepping into the dress, Bucky’s eyes wandered your figured. It was so hard now not to take his eye off of you. Slowly, like a routine you turned so your back was facing him and lifted your hair up. Well trained from his soldat days, he quickly places one hand on your hip as the other pulls the zipper up and just like always goosebump erupted in his wake. It seemed like a full circle now, before he would undress you before you had to seduce someone. Now, he was the one that got to do both.

Tugging on the zipper one more time he stepped back as you spun around so he could see the front. You watched as his eyes went from shock and lust to awe and love.

“What do you think?” you whispered. The dress was a dark red that he said was his favorite color on you. Thin straps held the low cut sweetheart neckline that cinched perfectly at your waist and gave way to an a-line skirt that fell perfectly.

“I think that if anyone else even looks at you tonight, I might have to murder them. You are mine.” he growls as he places his arms around you protectively.

“Yours” you agree as you tenderly kiss him.

Stepping out of the elevator, it was like you were transported into another world. The decorations were so gold and bright it was almost gaudy. People dressed to the nines were talking or swaying on the dance floor as servers moved between the bodies. It was like a fairytale and prince charming was on your arm, leading you to where Steve, Nat and Sam stood nursing various drinks.

An hour later, you excused yourself to use the restroom. Coming out with your head down, brushing down your skirt, you bumped into someone.

“Sorry!” you apologize and look up. Your blood runs cold and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“No need to apologize my dear. But I will need you to come with me.” he deviously smiles before easily pulling you to a dark corner.

The moment you saw him you were in panic mode. Not being able to move, your lungs felt like they had stopped working. In front of you all you could see were the cruel eyes that had tortured you for days before Steve, Nat, and Bucky found you.

Alexi stood before you, looking like the doppelganger of his dead son, Fyodor.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for Bucky or anyone at this point. You located the back of his head easily by his tied up hair but he was across the room laughing with the rest of the Avengers. You wanted to scream at how carefree and joyous they looked when you were frozen in fear. Logically, you knew it looked like two people talking to each other to the untrained eye so no one would come and help you.

Looking him straight in the eyes, a chill ran down your spine when you saw his slimy smile.

“What do you want” you said, proud that you sounded assertive, not showing the gripping fear you felt.

“My son back.” he states “But, that is not going to happen, so the next best thing would be you, dead.”  

“You know that they are all here tonight. All I have to do is scream and the Avengers will be on you in seconds.” you try to reason with him.

“Ah my dear, that pretty head of your is obviously not filled with much.” he says as he traces your collarbone. You shrug him off and he retaliates by gripping your arm.

“Why do you think I chose tonight to come back to you?” he hisses. “Everyone has their guard down and there are civilians. See those servers?” he nudges his head to the burly men dressed in white shirts and black slacks. “We got here a little early to set up and left some gifts under the tables.” His other hand raises to the light so you can see the device, a simple black rod with a button on the end. “One click and it all blows, all those poor civilians. Not to mention how this building would just crumple, killing pretty much everything and one in a 3 mile radius.” and he sounds almost proud.

You can taste the bile in your mouth as you comprehend what he is saying.

“If I disappear they will know it’s you” you breath out, trying to find all possible ways out of this.

“That’s why you are going to break it off with your little Bucky. Tell him you don’t love him, that you are leaving because that is what you do best. Run. He and the rest of the heartbroken Avengers would never come for someone that didn’t want them.” and your eyes blur from the tears thinking about how you would have to lie and break their hearts.

But he was right, you were always a flight risk. If they thought you were leaving because you didn’t love him or them, they would never try to find you again. They were good people who believed that it was your decision to leave and try and respect it. That, and they would be too devastated to actually look. You knew he had you. It was over.

Nodding your head slightly he grins like a hyena, knowing you saw that you were in checkmate.

“Go tell them, now. Meet me downstairs, a black town car will be right outside the tower. Remember, one wrong move and boom.” he wolfishly grins and gestures.   

Moving past him it took you all your strength to walk towards the team and not shout at everyone to get out of the building. For a moment you were selfish enough to think what would happen if you just told them that ABA was here. But, looking around the room you saw too many smiling faces, happy men and women that were mothers and fathers and children and siblings of others. You couldn’t do that to the thousands if not millions of people it would destroy.

So you put on a tight smile and walked slowly to the table where your family sat. Forcing yourself to be cool and keep your poker face strong.  

“Y/N” Steve greeted “did you get lost on your way back or something?” he tried to joke but your face showed no sign of registering what he was saying.

“Кукла” Bucky questions, seeing no light behind your eyes.

You curse yourself for thinking that you could trick Bucky into thinking everything was fine. Mustering up all the courage you could, you looked at them one by one before uttering the words you never wanted to say.

“I’m leaving”

“Oh no! Are you not feeling well тень?” Nat questions, not understand the true weight behind your words.

“I feel fine” you lie between your teeth, “I mean, I’m leaving the team.”

Silence engulfs the small area as your friends look at you with bewilderment.

“Is this about ABA? Because you’ll be safe here and we can protect you and ourselves Y/N” Steve says and the rest of them nod in agreement. You do your best to suppress your emotions and give him a cold, hard stare.

“This isn’t about them” and you snort internally, “This isn’t where I’m supposed to be. I’m not meant for this.”

“You’re being silly тень” Nat starts but you cut her off.

“I do not want to be here and I do not want to be part of this family.” you force each word out, exaggerating here and family. A small part of you breaks as you see the crushed looks they try to hide.

Nodding to yourself, you steal a glance at Bucky who has been silent this entire time and you wish you hadn’t. He looks at you with such sorrow that you want to break down and tell him the truth. Too many civilians, you think to yourself, get through this and get downstairs.

You turn and almost run to the elevators when Bucky grabs your wrist, forcing you to collide with his solid mass as he holds on to you for dear life. He wraps his arms around your side as he tries to keep you with him, tries to keep his heart from leaving him.

“You’re lying” he says softly.

“No I’m not.” Yes I am.

“Did… did something happen I wasn’t aware of? We were happy…” he trails off, eyes searching your face for anything. But you knew you had to be strong, to out play him. You took a deep breath before settling your hands on his arms, trying to pry them off of you.

“No Bucky, you thought we were happy. I’m not meant for this, I can’t stay and certainly not with you.” All I want is to stay with you.

“So what, all of this was a lie? Everything you said about loving me and wanting a family?” he says with injury as you struggle against his hold.

“I never wanted any of it. I just didn’t know how to say no.” I want all of it, with you and only you.

“You can’t… I’m not going to let you… please…  I love you.” he tries to get the words out, but all he can do now is to beg you to tell him it was all a joke and you loved him. He feels like he’s drowning in the pain and nothing can save him.

“I don’t feel anything. I never wanted any of this and I never loved you.” I’m so sorry. I love you so much it physically hurts.

The last words twisted his face into pure agony and you couldn’t do it anymore. You had to go before he broke you. Quickly rubbing three circles with your thumb on his arm that was holding you, you ripped yourself away from him and fled.

You got to the elevators, turned around and instantly regretted doing so. Bucky hadn’t moved from his position in the middle of the room, looking at you with such betrayal and hurt that you wanted to throw up. Tears bubbled to your eyes as the doors closed and you slid to the ground. Not being able to hold yourself up anymore with the grief that flooded you.  

The ‘ding’ of the doors opening brought you back to the moment as you tried your hardest to delay all of your movements. You were walking out of safety, out of your home and into the lion’s den.

The black town car rolled up to the front of the tower and you had to use all your strength to not flee and walk calmly towards it. A tall man stepped out and opened the backdoor for you, ready to pounce on you with any slight foreign movement. You slid into the car slowly before he slammed the door shut loudly and got back into the car.   

“Y/N!” you heard his familiar voice shout and you saw Bucky running out of the lobby, straight towards you.

“Did you tell them?” the driver screamed at you.

“No! I swear!” you cried. He looked at you for a split second more before deciding you looked too heartbroken to be lying and slammed on the gas.

“Y/N” you could hear and you twisted your head back to see him running behind the car until he could not longer keep up, all while bawling out your name. He was getting further and further away until he was just a small speck.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying anymore and the floodgates opened. A sob tore through you as you realized what you had lost. The magnitude of what you did hit you. I’m sorry, you repeated over and over in your head.

In a matter of a few minutes, you had lost everything again.

Translations:

Кукла- doll  

тень - shadow

A/N: I am so so sorry, I totally cried and broke my own heart writing this (runs and hides forever). Thank you so much for reading! ~J 

Part 10 

Taglist:

@bexboo616  @sebstanwassup  @buckyb4rnacle​  @captainbuckyreid​  @demoncrypt1066  @elaacreditava  @writing-soldiers  @aroyaldarknessblr  @cumberbabe92  @tearsandbloodofmyenemies  @oceanshockey  @astronomyturtle  @owhatshername1  @shadowingthemoonlight  @jimmyisfab  @littlepartofheaven  @sadanddeadsoul  @rhaeneris  @mcuimxgine  @isnow-0r-never  @sleepretreat  @learisa  @beefybuffybucky  @death-by-teacup

[iamkellyadams]

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The post 7 Minutes To A Slim and Flat Belly appeared first on Food, Health & You.

[shardclan]

Promenade Medical wasn't far from the Court of Five Lights, and subsequently it wasn't far from the Hall either. The architect had built it as Telos asked: far south so that the traffic on the Promenade didn't disturb them. Azricai could see the the white pillars marking the outer limits of the court off in the distance, and the speck of Tràthail fluttering and flapping her way through them. While fast, she wasn't quite done molting, so she flew with approximately the grace and lift of a turkey.

Azricai gripped her cane and shifted. Flatlands were difficult to lift off from, but even a small leap from the Promenade steps was enough to catch the wind under her wings. She sailed in an arc, curving around to land gently in the inner courtyard. She kept a brisk pace on the walkway that led to the hall, but once she passed under the inner arcade, she saw she needn't have rushed.

Arcanus was standing out in front of the entryway with Tràthail held under his arm. The girl wasn't struggling, but the moment she saw Azricai, she was as loud and chatty as a sentry squawker.

"Yes, there you are! Explain to this man that we need the Umbra Wolf! And make him let me go!"

"Hush," Azricai said sternly. "You can't just barge in on the Queen and expect her knight to let you though."

"But Dust needs her!"

Arcanus' mouth twisted with vague annoyance. "What's all this about?"

Azricai explained in as short but clear terms as she could, and sighed. "It's not a bad idea, the child just has no sense of order. Is she in session with the Tribunes?"

"No, a personal audience."

Azricai raised a brow. There were not many who bothered to come personally to Telos these days. Typically it would be a diplomat or a clan head from somewhere else, but personal audiences...

"Lutia?" she whispered.

Arcanus tensed at the thought, bvut was careful not to squeeze his cargo. "Not yet. Junior."

The skydancer's shoulders wilted, her expression pained. "He was just a child, no different from his brother and sister. If he must apologize, so must we. We were supposed to protect them, even from themselves."

"Yes," Arcanus said with uncharacteristic gentleness. "We were."

"Is Zo with him?"

"Won't leave his side, even for Techne."

"As it should be."

She gathered herself up with a deep breath, dispelling the lingering regrets starting to fill the air. There was no one in the clan who wouldn't be ready to forgive Junior. Well, there might be a few, but none who wouldn't be entirely cowed by Zo's presence at his side.

She hadn't had much interaction with Zo--there wasn't really a need. He was a clear-minded young man with sensible, perfectly reachable ambitions and he took care of his own woes in his own time. He was very...stable for an Arcanite his age. Even more so than his own mother had been when she first appeared before them. But somewhere deep inside, probably below his own notice, he did have that small current of the untameable that ran through nearly all members of the old dynasty.

She approved of him. And even more so of his feelings for Junior. She would never say it, but Zo's love for Junior was growing to be as tender and honest as the Radiant's love for Abaddon had once been. It was definitely something boy needed, but not something he or his father should actually hear.

"Excuse us, please."

Arcanus and Azricai stood to the side, allowing Zo and Junior to pass hand-in-hand. Telos emerged behind them, and gave the latter a parting embrace. They departed, and she stood in somber silence, not seeming to notice that anyone else was with her. Her own eyes were reddened. Flecks of the gold leaf she used for her signature tear markings had been carried like sediment down to her chin and even glittered slightly on her bosom.

"You have urgent business?" she finally asked.

Azricai bowed her head. "Take a moment, my Lady. We can wait."

"Thank you."

Telos disappeared back into the cool shade inside the hall, and Arcanus sat Tràthail down to accompany her. Tràthail looked after them in an unusual calm. Slowly, without ever looking up, she gravitated toward Azricai and pressed into her side.

"Has something bad happened?" she asked timidly.

"A long time ago," Azricai answered gently. "They've finally made peace."

"But they were so sad..."

"It's a terrible memory for both of them. Telos lost her husband, Junior lost his siblings, and everyone lost their old homes."

Tràthail pressed closer, but didn't ask anymore questions. Maybe someone had already told her the story, maybe she had no idea.

"I don't want to lose Dust."

"You won't." Azricai laid a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to let me talk to Telos, Tràthail. Alone."

Tràthail's feathers stood. "Why alone?"

"Because there's someone in this clan stronger than Bestealcian, and I am going to ask Telos to allow her and Dust to work together. But it's a very emotional and very political subject and I would rather you go back to Dust."

The harpy clearly didn't like it, but even she was not so simple she didn't recognize the basis of the situation. An adult of high standing was offering to negotiate with a matriarch on her behalf.

"I will go tell Dust that I do not hate her."

"Good. The love of a friend can get a dragon through many things."

Tràthail smiled in her giddy, beaming sort of way. Azricai watched her amble back the way she came, and had a very clear premonition of her bursting in on Dust and yelling 'I love you' with no lead up at all.

Even as Azricai smirked at the thought, she hoped the girl would have a little more tact than that. 

Arcanus came to her side, and politely offered her his hand. “The Morning Queen will see you now.”

Telos’ face was clear, and in the diffuse light coming in from the high windows, it was hard to tell she had been crying only ten or fifteen minutes ago. But she hadn’t re-applied the gold leaf, and the chaotic spread of the lingering flecks amplified her aura of mourning a thousand times over. It made her seem worn, like she had grieved until no more tears were left and still found only more sadness.

But her eyes were clear and her head high, so the illusion lasted only until she presented Azricai with a steaming cup of tea and took her seat at the head of the tribunal table.

“You sent the child away,” she observed in a voice still slightly husky.

“I did.”

“You have something serious to discuss then.”

Azricai stirred her tea. “I’m sure you’ve been kept aware of Dust’s status. Today I spoke with her to get to the root of the issue. I will not repeat her words because she spoke them to me in confidence, but in short: She is frightened of becoming big enough to be a worthy target of the Catoptria’s appetites.”

Telos' lip curled, and a sigh hissed through her teeth. "They're a scourge."

"I agree. Dust agrees." She took a pensive sip of her tea. "I promised her they would be dealt with if she could reach minimum healthy weight. She agreed."

Telos said nothing. It was Bestealcian who snickered from the eaves: "She's a vengeful little thing~"

Both women chose to ignore her. She wasn't wrong, but that was not the meat of the matter. Telos poured her own cup of tea and folded her hands around it, idly rubbing at the rim with her thumbs.

"Thank you for making me aware of this little deal, but what exactly are you asking me for, Azricai? You know I can't go after them officially. I am pressed enough to handle local affairs, much less cannibals on the other side of the Shifting Expanse."

"Am I to take that as an express ban on official Clan Aphaster involvement?"

"You can write it down and have my stamp on it if you want."

"That's probably a good idea." Azricai leaned back in her chair. "So let us talk unofficial involvement."

Telos' brow furrowed. She hadn't seen Azricai like this in ages, and it had never been aimed right at her. Her face was not the friendly smile she had relied on during the founding of the new clan. This woman was impenetrable, and Telos couldn't help but feel she was being challenged on her own throne to a rigged game.

"After an express ban you immediately seek to subvert me?"

"I seek your permission to subvert," Azricai corrected. "And not lightly."

"For Dust."

"Only for her. They pose a threat to her physical and mental health by their very existence. I am not asking you to have them all killed for her by secret means. I am asking if it's fine if a civilian helps her kill them all herself."

"And if I say no?"

"You are my queen. I will not go against you even in secret."

Telos met this stranger's eyes, and slowly a wry smile came to her lips. She sipped her tea, and let the tension leave as the warmth seeped in.

"And here I thought the Gale Wolf was no more."

Azricai smiled humbly. "On the Windswept Plateau, it is believed that gale wolves never die. They only dissipate until the next storm comes."

Telos chuckled, and turned the cup in her fingers. Her eyes flicked back and forth, as though reading a document she'd filed away somewhere in her mind.

"If you wish to do this, it will remove Dust's potential for citizenship."

"Execution of a personal grudge by a guest?” Azricai guessed.

“That's the only legal clause that could see this through with enough plausible deniability."

"I must remind you that she would have to leave here shortly after. Being a child will not spare her that."

"If she's reached her minimum healthy weight and no longer requires specialized medical assistance I don't see how that's a problem. It's not as though there isn’t a very nice coven on the other side of Sornieth in need of one more witch."

Both shared cool expressions that only barely hid the devious mirth in their eyes. It wasn’t as though Telos didn’t want the Ashfall Catoptria dealt with. There were just layers upon layers of bureaucracy to mind, and if she pointed fingers at the clans who lived around them, it would probably be a quick way to make enemies. This offered them all something they wanted, and in Dust’s case, something she needed.

“Which civilian do you want? I heard the girl vying for the Umbra Wolf, but I can’t send her there on an annihilation mission if this is supposed to be unofficial. Someone from Feldspar may be good for this.”

“They have enough on their minds. I want to request Lutia.”

The mirth drained from Telos’ eyes. “Azricai, really? Her?”

“Please hear my case: She is considered a rogue. The last issue of the Sunbeam Sentinel explicitly mentioned she hadn’t approached you, so to the world, you’re still butting heads with her. I believe that she is preparing herself to come see you. She hasn’t seen Ashes yet either. So before she has made any amends with you, let her do this. Let her be what other clans constantly accuse her of being, one last time. Let her make Dust feel safe so that the child can thrive. And then make your amends and reign her in.”

Telos tapped at her cup. The idea was perfect. Unsettlingly so. “I don’t know if I like how good at this you are.“

“So I have been told.”

“You have my permission to approach Lutia with this. On one condition.” She drained her cup of tea, and smiled brightly. “It is you I would like reigned in before anyone catches on that someone this wicked is an ordinary civilian. You denied me when I offered you a place on my tribune, and I will continue to respect your reasons. They were sound, and still are. But I would like you to become this clan’s Head Judge. It irks me to think I ever let you slip out of political affairs.”

Azricai’s stony countenance cracked, first into a smile, and then into a loud bark of laughter. “She compliments my politics as she slips the collar around my neck knowing I am in no position to refuse. I am not the only one who is wicked, my friend.” 

With warm smiles and familiar ease, the two shook hands on their agreement.

@boyonetta

[mama--snail-blog]

Our Birth Story

I’m putting it under a “read more” because it’s really long. If you’re pregnant, you might not want to read it right now. What happened to me was pretty much the worst case scenario and I don’t want to scare anyone. I wouldn’t worry about it happening to you. <3

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a long time now but it’s so intimidating! It probably won’t sound very poetic or pretty because, honestly, my memories surrounding the day are really fuzzy.

On the night of Thursday, March 23, Peter and I drove to the hospital to get all checked in at 10pm. I was so excited!! I had really been looking forward to my induction day and meeting my babe. I was 39 weeks and 2 days pregnant.

The labor room I was in was so peaceful and lovely. Peter was stretched out on a couch next to me while I watched Netflix on a tablet in the hospital bed. They gave me an IV drip but it didn’t even hurt when they stuck me.

I was probably only like two cm dilated when I got there. Cytotec was administered probably a couple hours after we got there to dilate me. They only gave me half a dose to see how I reacted to it. It was just a little pill I swallowed. They gave me sleeping medicine too.

Two times during the night I was woken up by nurses rushing in and thrusting an oxygen mask on my face and telling me to stay calm and breathe. Something was happening with the baby. Maybe his heart rate was dropping? I can’t remember but it was terrifying. The sleeping medicine must have been really strong though because as soon as they left I would fall right back asleep.

They didn’t give me anymore Cytotec because they said the baby was reacting poorly to it. So I feel like I didn’t get enough to really get things going.

At 5am on Friday the 24th, my midwife came and they started to administer Pitocin via IV to start my contractions. This is when my memories REALLY start getting fuzzy. I remember texting my birth photographer and telling her everything was starting so she probably needed to get to the hospital soon. My contractions only felt like mild period cramps at that time.

The next thing I remember is probably a couple of hours later. My birth photographer was there taking photos and I had two of the SWEETEST nurses. (During my entire stay at the hospital I had so many amazing nurses!! I wish I could hug every one of them.) One was a young white woman who was hilarious and the other was a slightly older black woman who was so, SO nice.She kept patting my hands and wiping my forehead, reassuring me I could do this and everything was okay. By this time I was in an excruciating amount of pain. I remember screaming and crying. I’m sure the Pitocin was what made it so horrible.

It took the anesthesiologist FOREVER to reach me for the epidural. There were two other women he had to get to first. My nurse just kept holding my hand. It was weird because I didn’t want Peter to touch me but when that nurse did it helped so much.

The anesthesiologist was this cute, tiny old white man. He puttered in with his supplies and got to work. I was so scared because I just HAD to watch a video of an epidural during pregnancy and I knew what the needle was like and ughhh. But I was willing to do anything to make the pain go away.

Except it didn’t.

Because the epidural wouldn’t work.

The guy kept sticking me in my spine and I would let out bloodcurdling screams and he kept saying things like, “This doesn’t make sense. You shouldn’t be able to feel that.”

Suddenly, my midwife grew very concerned and said my baby’s heartbeat was dangerously dropping. Since it had already dropped twice the previous night, she said I needed a c-section and immediately. It all happened so fast; I was so confused (and still in pain).

They all grabbed me and quickly moved me onto a gurney and raced me to the operating room. My poor husband was left behind and given scrubs. By the time he got them on and reached us, they already had Archer out! The actual c-section only took minutes. He got to go with him to get his first bath and make sure he was okay.

Meanwhile, what happened to me was a little more terrifying lol. I remember being naked on a table with bright lights everywhere and people in scrubs and masks. It felt like an episode of the X-Files. I was shaking uncontrollably and someone said something about how they needed to get me to stop. My midwife was there, telling me she wasn’t going anywhere and to breathe. The amazing, nice nurse was there too. I specifically remember her grabbing my face and putting her eyes up to mine and telling me I was going to be okay and that I could do it. I wish I could go back in time and hug that woman. She was a miracle for me.

They put me to sleep and I’m so happy they did because I think what happened next would have traumatized me even more if I was awake. After they got Archer out, my uterus wouldn’t contract and I was hemorrhaging everywhere. They gave me injections and suppositories to try to make it contract and stop the bleeding. The surgeon said he even, “held my uterus in his hands and kneaded it like bread to try to stimulate contractions.” Nothing was working. Finally, they were able to stitch it a certain way that stopped the bleeding. He said that if it had happened 20 years ago then I probably would have needed a hysterectomy!!

On the positive side he said he got a good look at all my organs and they look great lmao.

Our photographer took photos of me back in the labor room afterwards when a nurse helped me breastfeed for the first time. Basically I’m just laying there with my mouth open while she helps him latch onto my boob. I don’t remember it. I don’t remember our first time breastfeeding. I don’t remember our first skin to skin. I don’t remember fucking meeting my baby for the first time.

The first thing I remember is waking up that evening, seeing the baby is his little bedside pod thing and going, “Is it over? Is that him?”

I was in the hospital for four days total. I had a couple blood transfusions and was poked with a bunch of needles. I was in a lot of pain from the incision but its healed perfectly. Physically, I’m fine now.

Mentally, it’s been really hard. I didn’t feel attached to our baby at first. I wanted to care for him but he didn’t feel like he was mine. I’ve dealt with a lot of feelings over the decision to be induced and how I missed so many “firsts.” Ultimately, I don’t regret getting induced though. The reason he went into distress was because his cord was nearly wrapped around his head and he was putting weight on it down in my pelvis. I keep getting these horrible thoughts like what if it had eventually wrapped around his neck and killed him?? What if I labored at home first and his heart rate dropped without me knowing from him being on his cord?? I feel like what happened was probably for the best even though it wasn’t what I pictured happening. I’m healthy and my baby is safe and healthy and isn’t that what really matters?

Archer is a little over three weeks old now and we’re starting to really bond. He’s amazing. I think I will be dealing with the mental aftermath from my c-section for quite a while but I’m glad I have him to focus on. He was worth it.