#need Carter to TALK about her problems for ONCE))

[starcchild]

((if my brain wasn't completely shut off right now I would love to ramble about how absolutely debilitating Carter's fear of abandonment is, but alas my brain is. not wanting to cooperate

[impala666]

3 A.M & Quesadillas ~ John Carter x reader

I know, I know. I said I wanted more of Luka Kovac, and I've been working on a few things for him. But for some reason writing for John Carter is easier for me, I have no idea why. But I hope everyone enjoys this. Carter just needs someone to love him and be on his side for once, so that's what I did.

You found yourself waking up, at first you weren’t sure as to why. But then you felt the cold sheets on the other side of the bed. It had been a month since you and your husband John moved in to his grandmother and late grandfather’s house. It took some getting used to. Your whole life you’d lived in ranch styled houses or tiny apartments, kind of like the one you and John lived in before you moved. Now you lived in a mansion practically, and a staff that would try to wait on you hand and foot. However, you weren’t about to complain about the big bed and comfortable as hell mattress that you shared with your husband. But more and more you seemed to be waking up in the middle of the night to find John not next to you. Not that you could blame him after the trauma of the stabbing and losing Lucy, then his grandfather dying, the two of you working crazy hours at County Hospital, then of course his grandma falling ill. To which you knew the woman was practically his mother, because god forbid his mother from coming around at all to lend a helping hand or to even just to make sure that her son was okay. Then of course John had his insomnia on top of that, so he hardly slept.

Sitting up in the bed, you pushed the lush comforter off of you and moved to grab your sleep shorts from the floor to wear along with a t-shirt of John’s so you could go on search for your husband. Finally after slipping on your slippers you left the bedroom en route to the kitchen. Whenever John couldn’t sleep you could find him eating or drinking something in the kitchen, in the living room reading a medical journal, or sitting outside if it was nice. But this was Illinois, so of course it was raining. A tired smile grew on your lips when you found him cooking something at the stove. But as you quietly walked into the room you noticed the time on the stove clock, it was 3 in the morning. The two of you had worked 12 hour shifts not that long ago and the two of you had to be  up in another few hours to head out to go to your next shifts, however when you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist and felt his warmth that went out of your brain. 

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” John tiredly smiled down at you. He switched his spatula to his non dominant hand so his dominant hand could lace with the fingers of the hand that was wrapped around him.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I woke up alone without my personal space heater, so I had to come find him.” You spoke into him softly as you pressed your face and nose into his back so you could embrace his warmth along with his scent. John let out a small huff of a chuckle as he took your hands from his waist so he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you into his side. To which you again buried your face into once again.

“Well, you found him. He was just a little hungry, so he came down to make himself a quesadilla.” John smiled softly still as he played into the game you were playing with him. 

“A quesadilla? At 3 in the morning?” You finally took your face out of the warmth of John’s side to watch as he flipped the tortillas and cheese that were sizzling on the pan.

“Which is exactly why you should go back to bed. No sense in the both of us being miserable tomorrow. Well, I guess today, technically.” You shook your head as cheese flew out of the tortilla mid-flip, but also at his trying to take care of you. He was one to talk, the man took care of everyone else around him so that he would not have to face the problems that he was dealing with. Sure, he loved helping people, hell that’s why he became a doctor, but he also hid in it. But that was a conversation for another day. You just wanted to enjoy the quiet early, rainy morning with your husband before the two of you had to be your professional work selves.  

“Nope. No way.” You shook your head at him. “If you’re up then I’m up. So we’ll just be miserable together later. Now, scoot.” You demanded as you bumped your hip against his own to get him out of your way.

“What are you doing?” John asked in fake offense as he tried not to burst out laughing at you taking over.

“You are making a mess. Plus now I want one so I will take care of it, okay?” John just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, not really believing that you just did that. But of course he believed it, because he knew what you were doing. You were taking care of him.

“I was doing just fine.” His voice rose an octave in defense.

“You literally just got cheese everywhere, Johnny.” You told him as you took his off of the pan and added a new tortilla to the pan to start your own. 

“ You like taking care of me don’t you?” Now it was John’s turn to wrap his arms around your waist and press a kiss to the top of your head

“It is one of my favorite pastimes.” You smiled at him. You turned yourself around in his arms and firmly put your hands on his chest. “Now, would you be so kind as to start a pot of coffee?” Asking him sweetly. 

“Coffee and a quesadilla, doctor?” Carter looked at you like he couldn’t believe the combination of food that you have chosen to have for breakfast. But it was you who was surprised. The two of you had eaten much weirder things with coffee. One of the things being sushi of all things. But when you need caffeine, you need caffeine. 

“Well I’m up now and I think you are too so we might as well start with it to keep us going.” You quirked an eyebrow up at him. 

“Hmm, touche.” John agreed with you and nodded before leaning forward to kiss your jaw before leaving your embrace to start his coffee duties. As the coffee was percolating he came back by you but you shook your head and gently grabbed his wrist. Which earned you a confused look in return.

“Sit down, relax, and let me serve you.” You said softly. John looked at you like you had grown a second head. He looked at you unsure, and a little bit like he couldn’t believe that you were doing this. 

“You know you’re not my mother right?” John asked as he took a seat on one of the bar stools that were placed at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“I know,” you smiled to yourself slightly as you sliced both of your breakfasts. “And appreciate it that you say that, because most men just assume we’re here to fill that roll.” You placed the plate with the steaming in front of both of the seats before walking back over to the coffee pot to pour the both of you a cup. John didn’t say anything. He just sat and ate his quesadilla and stared at you like he could not believe that you were in the room with him at that moment. 

“But you don’t need to take care of me.” He finally said, very quietly while he helped you climb up into the bar stool next to him.

“I know I don’t need to, John,” you took a small sip of the hot coffee. The effects of the coffee waking you up ever so slightly. “But I want to, I mean you are my husband. Even before our wedding I wanted to.” John opened his mouth to say something, but before he could you put your hand on his arm to keep him from doing so. You needed him to hear this. “You have been killing yourself trying to take care of literally all of the adults in your life. Not just at work. You have been helping your grandmother; who might as well be your mother, considering she raised you. You have been helping her grieve your grandfather, along with her illness. Which you’re also medically helping her with also. Then your mother and father finally come back, drop the bomb on Christmas that they’re getting a divorce. Which they’re putting you in the middle, and don’t tell me they aren’t. I mean you had the worst thing happen to you last year. I mean, you were stabbed. Almost died, almost couldn’t walk again. But now they come back.” You were getting yourself all worked up thinking about his parents, you were beginning to lose your point. But John rubbed your back with one hand and put his other hand on top of your own hand to comfort you and calm you down. “So, no. I don’t mind taking care of you. Because I love you, and I want to.” You said much softer, not realizing until now that your voice grew in volume during your rant.

“Thank you for saying that.” John smiled and blushed all bashful as he reached forward to run his thumb over your chin and feel your face. You turned your head to place a kiss on his thumb before turning to start in on your food. “I love you, so much.” 

P.S- Note from author: TBH I don't know if this was finished or not. If it seems like it just ended out of no where, please let me know. It just felt done.

[rylem33]

Kaylee's Bully

Melissa Carter was tired.

Forty-eight years of stress and worry had worn grooves into her features like the bags under her eyes. Her shoulder-length honey blonde hair had faded from its once richer shade.

She glanced down at her phone again. Kaylee hadn’t answered her last two texts. Of course not. She never does when she’s hiding in her room. 

Melissa knew what was happening. And she knew who was behind it.

Brittney Dalton, a spoiled, venomous little snake of a girl who seemed to thrive on tearing other girls down. The queen bee of Ashbury High. She was popular, rich, and seemingly untouchable. 

Melissa knew that Kaylee was with Paul. He was her best friend and rock. Supporting Kaylee through all the bullying. She left her daughter in safe hands and went to confront Brittney.

The bell above the door jingled as Melissa pushed into the café. She spotted Brittney right away, sitting alone near the back.  She was lazily scrolling through her phone, sipping some overpriced pink concoction with whipped cream.

Brittney Dalton looked like trouble wrapped in a pleated skirt. She sat at the café table with her legs crossed, midriff exposed beneath a too-tight crop top, her blonde hair in pigtails tied off with bows that made her look younger than she was, but only in the most manipulative way. 

Melissa hated confrontation and almost got cold feet.But then she pictured Kaylee crying while admitting she hated going to school now. That was enough to steel her nerves.

Melissa marched across the room, planting herself at the edge of Brittney’s table.

“Excuse me.” Her voice came out weaker than she intended.

Brittney barely glanced up. “Yeah?” 

Melissa felt her jaw clench. “We need to talk. About my daughter.”

Brittney’s lips curled into a smug little smile as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Ohhh… Kaylee.” She dragged the name out like it was a joke. “What about her?”

“Cut the act, Brittney. I know what you’ve been doing to her. The way you’ve turned her life into a damn nightmare.”

Brittney tilted her head, pretending to think. “Sounds like a her problem, not a me problem.”

Melissa’s growing rage gave her courage. “Enough. This stops now. You leave her alone, or I swear—”

Brittney leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Or what, Mommy? You gonna ground me?” She let out a breathy little laugh, twirling a strange, dark little pendant shaped like a twisting vine that was hanging from her neck.

Without thinking, Melissa reached out and grabbed Brittney by the necklace, jerking her slightly forward. The pendant swung wildly, catching Brittney’s skin just below her collarbone.

“Ow!” Brittney gasped, recoiling with wide eyes. She slapped Melissa’s hand away, her other hand flying up to cover the fresh scratch.

“The hell is wrong with you?” she snapped, voice louder now, drawing glances from other tables.  A thin, angry red line appeared on her where blood welled up instantly.

Britney stood up fast, knocking over her drink. Liquid splattered across the table and floor as Brittney pressed a napkin to the scratch, inspecting the tiny smear of blood on the white paper.

“You’re a freaking psycho,” she hissed, clutching her phone like she was ready to call someone.

Melissa was instantly regretful. She could already feel every set of eyes locking onto her. 

“Brittney, wait—” Melissa tried to lower her voice, reaching out, palms open, desperate to deescalate. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t touch me!” Brittney barked, stepping back another pace, holding the napkin tighter to her skin like she was about to dial 911.

This was getting dangerous fast. “Brittney, just calm down—”

Brittney swayed on her feet, blinking rapidly. Her smug expression cracked for the first time.

“…whoa…” she muttered under her breath, gripping the edge of the table for balance. Her phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

Melissa’s panic surged. “Are you okay?“

Brittney didn’t answer. Instead, her knees buckled, her body tipping sideways.

“Oh my god!” Melissa lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the ground. Brittney’s body was limp, unnaturally warm, like she was burning up.

Melissa could hear the voices murmuring around the café.

“I’ve got her—she’s fine, she just… fainted,” Melissa lied, plastering a weak smile on her face as she carefully hoisted Brittney to her feet. “She’s a friend of my daughter’s.”

Someone was definitely filming.

Melissa quickly grabbed Brittney’s bag, stuffed the fallen phone into it, and practically dragged the girl toward the door, forcing another brittle smile at the gawking customers.

“It’s okay, she just needs air. She’s fine. Really. She’s fine.”

Melissa half-carried Brittney to her car parked right at the curb. She fumbled with the door, managing to ease Brittney into the passenger seat. The girl groaned faintly, head lolling toward the window, eyes fluttering half-open, dazed and glassy.

Melissa hurried around to the driver’s side, slamming the door shut behind her. Melissa leaned across the console, gently shaking Brittney’s shoulder.

“Hey… hey, can you hear me? Brittney?”

Brittney’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Her face had gone pale… no, not pale—grayish. Her skin looked off, like something under the surface was crawling just beneath it.

Melissa swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She reached for her phone, fumbling with the lock screen.

“Jesus, I… I’m calling an ambulance, just hang on—”

A wet, gurgling sound cut her off. The girl’s body had started to tremble. Her arms jerked once… then again. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her glassy eyes rolling back into her head.

“Brittney?!”

Melissa grabbed her again, trying to steady her, but Brittney’s skin felt damp and sticky.

Then, right before Melissa’s horrified eyes, Brittney sank.

It started at her jawline, skin collapsing inward like it was losing structure, bones softening and melting. Her lips slurred into a shapeless smear as her cheeks caved.

Melissa yanked her hands back as Brittney’s body slumped like overcooked pasta.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. What the fuck—what the fuck?”

Brittney’s head split open like a popped blister, releasing a thick, shiny black ooze that immediately started pooling in the seat. The rest of her followed—skin, clothes, everything—collapsing into that growing, writhing puddle.

Melissa screamed, scrambling back against her door, clawing for the handle.

“No! No, no, NO!”

The ooze shifted, moving unnaturally, as if alive. It pulsed once… then stretched toward her.

She kicked at the dashboard in terror, frantically twisting the door handle but the black slime leapt toward her, a snake of liquid lashing out, splattering across her neck and chest before she could even scream again.

“Ahh—!”

Melissa’s back slammed into the window as she clawed at the sludge, but it clung to her skin like tar, crawling up her throat, slipping under the collar of her sweatshirt.

“No! Get it off—”

It seeped into her mouth, forcing its way past her lips and down her throat.

Melissa gagged and thrashed, tears streaming down her face as the last of the ooze disappeared inside her. Her body spasmed once, twice… and then everything went still as she passed out.

----------------------------------------------------

Melissa didn’t even remember driving home.

The streets, the lights, the turns… all of it blurred together into a sickening fog. She felt cold and hot all at once, the weight of her clothes suffocating against her skin. Her throat still burned from where the slime had forced its way inside her.

Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the front door.

She stepped inside on numb legs, kicking the door shut behind her. The faint sound of the television drifted from the living room.

“Hey, hon”, her husband Mark’s voice carried toward her from the couch, casual, oblivious.

Melissa opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out at first. She swallowed thickly.

“…I’m not… feeling well,” she rasped, her voice sounding strange even to her own ears.

Mark sat up a little straighter, concerned.  “You okay? Do you need—”

Melissa didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just shook her head slowly and started toward the stairs like she was moving underwater.

Her body felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

One step at a time, she dragged herself upward, gripping the banister with white knuckles.

The light was on in Kaylee’s room.

Melissa paused at the top of the stairs, staring at the thin slice of warm light spilling into the hallway. She could hear her daughter pacing softly inside, probably on her phone, unaware of anything that had just happened.

Melissa pressed her lips together, fighting the lump swelling in her throat.

I should check on her… I should tell her…

But the weight of everything crashed down on her at once. The fear. The horror. The way her skin still crawled like something was inside her.

Melissa gripped the doorframe to her bedroom, pushed inside, and collapsed face-first onto the bed without even kicking off her shoes.

She curled into herself, clutching her pillow as the tears finally came.

----------------------------------------------------

Melissa blinked up at the ceiling, expecting to feel like death, but she didn’t. She actually felt fine.

She sat up slowly as the room filled with soft morning light. She looked down at herself. Her sweatshirt was twisted from sleep. Her hands trembled faintly as she touched her throat, expecting… something.

But there was nothing. No burn. No stain. No black slime. Melissa exhaled a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Okay… okay. Maybe it didn’t happen. Maybe it was just a dream. A really vivid… terrifying dream.

She slid out of bed and padded barefoot into the hallway, pulling her cardigan tighter around her. Everything felt normal. The scent of brewing coffee drifted up from the kitchen. The faint clinking of dishes. Mark was up.

She smiled as she descended the stairs.

“Morning,” he said, already pouring her a mug, his robe tied loosely at the waist.

“Thanks,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around the warm ceramic. “God, I needed this.”

Mark gave her a curious look. “Rough night?”

Melissa hesitated, then shook her head with a faint smile. “No… not really. I just… didn’t sleep great, that’s all.”

“Well, you look better than you sounded last night,” he said, stepping in to give her a light kiss on the cheek. “Thought you were coming down with something.”

“Me too,” she said quietly. “But I feel fine now. Honestly. Better than fine.”

And it was true. She hadn’t felt this energized in years.

They stood in the kitchen together in silence for a moment, sipping coffee and enjoying the calm. Melissa leaned against the counter, letting herself believe that everything was back to normal.

Then the stairs creaked and Kaylee appeared at the edge of the room.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

Melissa looked up and something twisted inside her. She couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t anger. It was… revulsion.

The sight of Kaylee’s slouched posture. The way she didn’t meet anyone’s eye. Her soft voice. Her sloppiness. She was so weak. So fragile.

The word pathetic bloomed in Melissa’s mind like a rot.

Melissa’s hand tightened around her coffee mug. Where the hell had that come from?

Kaylee shuffled to the fridge, oblivious. Melissa tried to look away, fighting to keep the sneer from breaking across her face.

God, look at her.

The thought wasn’t hers. It slithered through her mind like smoke.

Slouched over like a wet rag. No wonder they pick her apart—she walks around like she’s begging for it.

Melissa’s mind fought with itself. She gripped the edge of the counter tightly.

Pathetic little nothing, the voice cooed. You didn’t raise a daughter. You raised a doormat with a pulse.

Her nails dug into her palm, leaving crescents in the skin.

“Did you sleep okay?” she blurted. It didn’t sound like her. Not really.

Kaylee shrugged without looking. “Yeah, I guess.”

Of course you did. Nothing rattles a girl who’s too dumb to notice everyone hates her.

Melissa took a long, slow breath through her nose as she watched Kaylee grab a yogurt from the fridge.

“I’m going back upstairs,” Kaylee mumbled.

What a surprise. Can’t even finish a conversation without retreating like the sad little wretch.

Melissa nodded quickly, keeping her mouth shut. She didn’t trust herself to say anything. She didn’t trust what might come out.

Kaylee’s steps disappeared upstairs and Melissa relaxed. It felt like unclenching a fist she hadn’t realized was tight. Her shoulders slumped. Her jaw loosened. The burning heat behind her eyes cooled.

The bile of cruel thoughts lifted immediately and she felt energized.

Mark returned, walking in with the newspaper under one arm, coffee in hand.

“She heading back to bed already?” he asked with a raised brow.

Melissa turned toward him, voice steady. “Looks like it. She’s… tired, I guess.”

Mark snorted. “When is she not?” He leaned against the counter and took a sip. “Teenagers. It’s like their natural state is horizontal.”

“Honestly, I envy her,” she said. “If I could stay in bed and shut out the world some mornings…”

“You’d lose your mind after two hours,” Mark said. “You’d be organizing the junk drawer and emailing the PTA by lunch.”

Melissa smiled into her cup. “You’re not wrong.”

Mark kissed her on the temple and moved to grab the toast from the toaster.

----------------------------------------------------

The front door clicked shut behind Mark, and Melissa stood in the hallway, sipping the last of her coffee. She let out a slow breath and turned toward the stairs.

Shower. Reset. Maybe this’ll finally get whatever the hell is wrong with me out of my system.

Her foot hit the first step when she heard it.

“Mom?” Kaylee’s voice, faint but distinct, drifted from her bedroom.

Melissa stopped. For just a second, her muscles tensed like her own daughter’s voice was a trigger. 

“Yeah?” she called back.

“I can’t find my charger. Did you maybe see it?”

Melissa’s hand released the banister and she moved down the hall, each step slower than the last. Her pulse picked up. She nudged Kaylee’s door open.

Kaylee was on the floor beside her bed, hair a mess, hoodie three sizes too big, surrounded by open notebooks, cords, and half-eaten wrappers. She looked up with those same tired, watery eyes.

“Never mind,” she said. “I think I—”

“Jesus Christ,” Melissa snapped, voice slicing through the air. “Do you ever not look like a fucking disaster?”

Kaylee froze. “…What?”

Melissa’s heart jumped in her chest—but it wasn’t fear. It was something hungry.

The words had slipped out fast, too fast. No filter. No hesitation. And something hot and sweet slid up the back of her throat like venom.

God, look at her. The voice purred now. You sure she’s not feral? Hoodie, rat’s nest hair, trash everywhere? What guy would even touch that?

“Did you actually eat breakfast?” Melissa said, her tone suddenly light, fake sweet. “Or did you just crawl out of this hoarder pile and start crying again?”

Kaylee’s jaw tensed. “What the hell is your problem?”

Melissa stepped fully into the room, arms crossing under her chest. The smirk blooming on her lips didn’t even feel forced anymore.

“My problem?” she said, head tilting. “My problem is watching you wallow in your own filth like you’re waiting for someone to rescue you. Newsflash, Kaylee—no one’s coming.”

Kaylee flinched, her face twisting. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Maybe if you didn’t dress like a fucking meme and carry yourself like a kicked dog, people wouldn’t treat you like trash.”

Kaylee’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out. Her eyes shimmered with instant tears.

Melissa blinked. Something inside her blinked too.  What did I just say? What did I just—

Kaylee stood up, slow and stiff. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she whispered, voice cracking.

Melissa turned on her heel, suddenly nauseous, suddenly thrilled, gripping the doorknob.

“Forget it,” she snapped, tossing it off like the whole moment bored her. “Just… clean your fucking room.”

She shut the door on Kaylee.

Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Her skin buzzed. Her jaw ached from the grin she was still fighting to bury.

God, it had felt so good.

----------------------------------------------------

Melissa stood frozen on the other side of Kaylee’s door, one hand still clenched around the knob. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

What the hell is wrong with me?

She had to force her fingers to let go. She backed away slowly, numb, stomach churning with guilt… and something else. Something dark and addictive still thrumming under her skin.

She had made her daughter cry.

And part of her liked it.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She needed to hear it, the voice whispered. And you needed to say it.

“No,” she said aloud, pressing her fingers to her temples. “That’s not me. That’s not who I am.”

Melissa closed the bathroom door behind her and locked it.

She turned on the shower, hot as it would go. The bathroom filled with steam almost immediately. She peeled her clothes off slowly and stood naked in the growing cloud of steam. 

She stepped under the spray and let the heat wash over her. For a while, she just stood there, breathing, head tilted back, eyes closed. The heat soaked into her muscles. Her chest loosened. The rising panic of the morning began to slip away.

Her thoughts drifted, spiraling back to the moment in Kaylee’s room. The look on her daughter’s face. That edge of betrayal in her voice.

She looked like she was going to cry again. Like she always does.

The thought slipped out of her lips.

“She always does…”

Her eyes opened. Had she said that?

She blinked at the tiles in front of her. Her lips parted again.

“She’s so weak. God, she can’t even look people in the eye without flinching—”

The words tumbled out, faster now.

“Always hunched, always mumbling. Like she wants people to walk all over her. Maybe she likes it. Maybe that’s all she’s good for—”

“Stop,” Melissa gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

The voice was hers, but the words weren’t. They came slick and full of poison. And when she pulled her hand away, there was black slime on her palm.

She looked down and the bottom of the shower was coated in it. A spreading pool of glistening black ooze, leaking from her mouth like a faucet she couldn’t shut off.

“Oh my god…” she whispered, voice trembling.

The memory slammed into her like a truck.

Brittney. The café. The car. The melting. It had all been real.

She staggered back into the wall, one hand braced against the tile, the other shaking as the slime continued to trickle from her lips in thick, choking ropes.

It’s inside me. 

The black pool pulsed. Moved. Almost… breathed.

Melissa’s chest heaved. She tried to scream, but her mouth opened and something else came out entirely.

“She’s pathetic.”

The words spilled from her lips like vomit. 

“Always whining. Always looking for someone to fix her.”

“No—” she croaked, trying to cover her mouth, but her hand slipped, soaked in slime.

“God, no wonder she’s a target. You can smell the weakness on her.”

“Stop—” she gasped, chest seizing.

“She’s not a daughter. She’s a burden.”

The words weren’t thoughts anymore. They were truths, pressed into her lungs by something dark and sentient.

“She doesn’t need protection. She needs to be broken.”

Melissa dropped to her knees with a wet slap, her hands sinking into the black pool now circling her thighs.

The ooze began to crawl up her legs.

“Make her fear you,” she heard herself say, voice slipping into something younger, richer, more vicious. “That’s how you teach respect.”

She clamped her lips shut, but it didn’t matter. The words still poured out—wet, wicked, unstoppable.

“She was never going to be anything. But you—” the voice purred, sliding off her tongue like silk, “you still can.”

The slime surged upward, wrapping around her thighs like latex come to life. Her skin tingled, then tightened, smoothing beneath it. Cellulite erased. Flesh lifted. Her thighs plumped with sensual, toned definition. Her knees reshaped, girlish and firm.

Melissa gasped as the ooze encased her hips, squeezing until they flared, pushing outward into a perfect hourglass. Her ass lifted in seconds, swelling behind her, bouncy and sharp beneath the slick layer now coating her skin like second skin.

“Stop—please—” she whimpered, but her voice cracked, betraying something new inside her: excitement.

The ooze kept climbing.

Her stomach flattened in an instant, muscles drawing taut beneath the shifting black. Her waist shrank smaller and smaller until it looked impossibly sculpted.

Melissa arched back with a strangled moan as the slime flowed up over her breasts, which swelled under its grip. They grew rounder, fuller, almost pornographic. Her nipples stiffened beneath the living sheen now dressing her body in something between ink and desire.

Her back straightened. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders drew back like she belonged on a stage, or a throne.

And all the while, the words kept coming:

“She’s weak. A crybaby. Always so needy.”

“You spent years nurturing a worm.”

“She’s nothing to you.”

The slime wrapped around her throat and jaw. She convulsed once as her skin flushed with new color. Her lips plumped even more, glossy and kissable, her cheeks sharpening to high, symmetrical angles. Her nose tilted upward slightly, perkier. Her lashes darkened. Her brows arched with a built-in sneer.

She tilted her head, watching her reflection twist into something else.

Her hair lengthened, thick and styled effortlessly even wet, the dull blonde gone—replaced with a brighter, sexier shade that shimmered like spun gold in the mist.

When it reached her eyes—her irises lit up like fire behind glass. A new brightness. A new hunger.

“I’m not her mother,” she purred, rising from the floor as the last of the slime sealed over her toes like heels painted into flesh. “I’m her better.”

Melissa stood fully now. Not the woman who’d begged herself to stop. Not the tired, anxious mother who whispered apologies and swallowed her rage.

This woman was all tits and venom. A cruel goddess sculpted in dripping black sheen and deliberate beauty. Every curve designed to dominate. Every breath soaked in poison and power.

And she was smiling.

----------------------------------------------------

The door slammed open without warning.

Kaylee flinched hard, nearly dropping her phone.

Beside her on the bed, Paul looked up from his spot on the floor, where he’d been leaning back against her dresser, scrolling through memes. His broad shoulders tensed, eyes narrowing.

There was a woman in the doorway. She was tall and terrifying, wrapped in glistening black that clung to her like skin. Her body was impossibly sculpted. Her long, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, face framed perfectly, lips full and glossy, eyes sharp and lined like daggers.

“Who the hell are you?” Paul said, standing now, instinctively stepping between the woman and Kaylee.

The woman’s face contorted into a wicked smile.

“You don’t recognize me?” she said, voice rich with honeyed poison. “Aww. That’s disappointing.”

She stepped into the room, each click of her heels deliberate, predatory.

“Back off,” Paul said, squaring his shoulders. “You need to leave.”

“Oh, Paul,” she purred, eyes raking over him like she already owned him. “You always were the loyal one, weren’t you? Big, gentle, devoted. Playing the role of protector like some kind of golden retriever.”

His brows pulled together. “How do you know my name?”

She walked right up to him now, close enough for her scent to fill his nose.

“Oh, I know all sorts of things,” she whispered, reaching up to trail a finger down the center of his chest. “I know how you’ve supported Kaylee while Brittney bullied her.  I know how you’ve been there through thick and thin. I know how you’ve secretly wanted her.  Lusted for her.  And how she’s been oblivious to it.”

Paul stepped back a half-inch, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. There was something… wrong. Something electric in the air.

“Get away from her,” Kaylee said from behind him, voice cracking. “Whoever you are, get the hell away from him!”

Melissa didn’t even look at her. She kept her eyes locked on Paul’s, voice syrupy and smooth.

“You’ve always wondered what it would be like to have someone want you, haven’t you?” she whispered. “Not just the sweet one. Not just the friend. Someone who actually wants you…”

Her hand pressed to his chest, and he didn’t move.

“You’ve thought about it,” she cooed. “Don’t lie. All those times she cried to you, leaned on you. All that touching. You felt something. And you hated yourself for it. Didn’t you?”

Paul swallowed hard, jaw clenched.

Kaylee stepped forward, panicked now. “Paul, don’t listen to her!”

But he didn’t move.

“I could give you what she never will,” she whispered. “You’d never have to be her safety blanket again. You’d be mine.”

Paul’s shoulders loosened just slightly.

“No…” Kaylee stepped between them now, voice desperate. “Paul. Please.”

He blinked once, slowly, and looked down at Kaylee. Something in his eyes shifted and she seemed smaller now. Lesser.

Melissa’s voice oozed with satisfaction. “Go ahead, Kaylee. Say goodbye.”

“Paul?” Kaylee whispered, voice trembling. “Don’t.”

But Paul didn’t move.

Melissa turned to him fully, dragging one glossy red fingernail down his chest. “You’ve been such a good boy,” she purred, “loyal, patient. Always waiting your turn. Well…” She leaned in, her lips brushing against his. “Now it’s your turn.”

And she kissed him.

Kaylee gasped. “Stop it!”

Paul didn’t pull away. His shoulders sagged, like he surrendered. His hands gripped Melissa’s waist without thinking.

When Melissa broke the kiss, her lips curled into a wicked grin. “That’s more like it.”

She turned slightly, hooking her fingers in the collar of his shirt and tugging upward. “Take it off.”

Kaylee stood frozen, horrified, as Paul peeled away his shirt, then let his pants fall to the floor. He was left standing in nothing but his tight black briefs. His face was slack, entranced.

Melissa ran her palms over his chest, slow and possessive. “God, look at you,” she cooed. “All that strength, all that loyalty, wasted on her.”

Kaylee stepped backward, eyes wide, heart hammering. “Paul… please… you don’t want this.”

But Melissa spoke over her, never breaking eye contact with Kaylee. “Oh, he wants it. Every inch of him wants to forget you ever existed. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Paul dropped to his knees at Melissa’s feet.

Kaylee couldn’t breathe. Her legs gave out beneath her and she sank to the floor, hands over her mouth, eyes unblinking.

Melissa looked down at her, towering in all her perfect, corrupted glory.

“This is what power looks like,” she said softly. “And you’ll never have it.”

She pushed Paul up against the wall and pulled down his underwear. 

“Well,” she said, voice like silk over something wicked, “you have been hiding a secret.”

She grabbed his cock with her hand and looked up at him.

“You’re going to be so much more fun than I thought. Now, use this monster and show me a good time.”

Kaylee couldn’t look away.

She was still curled on the floor, her breath shallow, body locked in place as Paul leaned into Melissa’s touch like he’d forgotten anything else existed. Like he wasn’t Paul anymore.

She forced herself upright, hands trembling, knees unsteady. Somehow, she made it to her feet.

And then she ran.

“Mom!?” she shouted, voice cracking as she stumbled into the hall. “Where are you!?”

From behind her came the first sounds. They were soft at first, then louder. Pleasure twisted into something commanding, raw. Kaylee slapped her hands over her ears.

“Stop it!” she cried. “Mom—please—where are you?”

She threw open her parents’ bedroom door. It was empty.

She ran to the guest room. Empty.

The sounds followed her—echoing from behind, from the room she couldn’t go back to. Laughs, gasps, screams.

She checked every room, but her mother wasn’t there.

Kaylee collapsed in the hallway outside her own room, tears blurring her vision, heart hammering against her ribs like it was trying to escape.

And then, finally, she whispered it. “…Mom?”

But there was no answer.

Only those sounds.

And the quiet, crushing truth that whatever was behind that door—wasn’t her mother anymore.

[nowprettybbyimrunning]

Winter

This is chapter 2 from the series "Carter's Favorite Season is Autumn", series masterlist HERE, chapter 1 HERE, add yourself to my taglist HERE.

W.C: 8k

WARNINGS: mention of blood, inaccurate medical procedures, i think some cursing

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i think this kinda gets progressively more shitty as you reach the end.

Three days. Three whole working days had passed since Carter’s and Autumn’s little fight and she still wasn’t talking to him and John did not know for how long he could take it. It was more than just the fact that he had an enormous crush on her and she was not even looking at him, killing him. It was the fact that they were friends, they had a kind of routine together that for Carter had become, in a way, sacred. 

Every time he got home, instead of relaxing and being happy about having a few hours of silence and peace, Carter couldn’t wait for the next day to start just so he could see Autumn. There was brightness and warmness in the way she bounced into the ER, messy curls tucked into her big brown coat and characteristic green scarf that somehow made the orangey red of her hair stand out even more; usually two coffees in her hands, and one was for him. By the time she had walked up to the entry dest where he was impatiently waiting, John had already caught himself staring at her in awe. Jerry always laughed at him. Everyone did. To the point that now he was being called “loverboy” behind his back. Carter could only hope that his new nickname hadn’t reached Autumn’s ears.

But he had ruined it. He had been an asshole and clearly deserved what he was getting (which was nothing, and that was the problem); yet, he thought the way she had been acting was at least a tiny bit childish. What were they, five years old? Carter knew he needed just three seconds to express how utterly sorry he was for the way he had acted and they’d be back to normal. ‘Cause if there was one thing he had gotten to know pretty well in almost two months of residency, was Autumn, and there was no way this wasn’t also pissing her off.

Anyways, the point is that he missed her. Just three days and it felt like a lifetime without her. John did not feel like he was being dramatic. Yes, he had seen her, of course he had it was impossible not to. Still, she hadn’t talked to him. Not. A. Single. Word. 

So, he decided that day would be the last one he’d let the redhead keep on ignoring him.

Autumn had just gotten to the hospital and went straight to the break room to enjoy at least five minutes of peace while she drank her coffee before someone called her for help. She found that Carter was already inside the dimly lit room, sitting on the couch and drinking his own mug of coffee. She knew he was looking at her, she could feel it. But she was not going to look at him or talk to him, not until he said sorry. That’s all it took, Dr. Hawthorn just wanted to hear her friend apologize.

They hadn’t said a word to each other since she walked out of the exam room after Carter stitched her up. Everyone was talking about their little argument, Autumn had heard the nurses whispering and every time she walked into a room Carol and Susan were already in, they stopped talking. She didn’t know exactly what they were saying, but they were talking. And if that wasn’t enough, the gossip was not only about her and John, but also about her and Doug.

Dr. Ross had gone to check up on her after the incident with the psych patient. It was late at night and he hadn’t had dinner yet, so she served him a plate of the pasta she had cooked for herself. That’s it. But of course once he went back to the ER and told Lydia what he had been doing, it suddenly had been a date. It was not.

Sure! Doug was a hot guy, every single person working or not at County General knew that, but Autumn was not interested at all. Plus, she did not want to get into trouble, and whatever little game Dr. Ross was trying to get her into had already reached Dr. Greene, who did not doubt asking her about it.

“Dr. Hawthorn, do you have a minute?” Was the first thing Autumn heard when she came back to work the next day and Mark was waiting at the entry desk.

“Yeah, sure” she followed him into an empty (thank god) exam room, “is there a problem?” the redhead expected him to ask her about the psych patient or, worst case scenario, about Carter.

“No, not really,” Dr. Greene started, “it’s just that, you know how fast word travels in here” sure thing Sherlock, “and I heard that Dr. Ross took time off yesterday to pay you a visit,” that was not the topic of conversation she was hoping for.

“Yeah, he just wanted to check on me and give me some painkillers,” Autumn excused him.

“And have dinner,” oh oh.

“Dr. Greene I swear it’s not like that, at all” was she sweating? yeah she was.

“I know, I know” Mark held up both hands to stop her from talking, “but Doug is… well, he is Doug. And I want you to be careful,” she did not appreciate the babying, but she understood it.

Since then Autumn tried to keep things between her and Doug strictly professional, and it was working, she hoped. But the silence in the break room did not last long, it was exactly Dr. Ross who cut through it by stepping inside.

“There you are,” he said leaning against the lockers, “I need you in room 2”.

“Who?” Carter asked.

“Both of you, now,” Autumn and John immediately left their half drank coffees and followed Doug down the corridor, “ten year old boy, has been coughing for a few days and has a little fever, figured you Autumn specially would like to go solo”.

“Me?” There was clear surprise in her voice.

“Yes, do you not want to?” Dr. Ross asked jokingly.

“No- I mean, yeah of course who’s with him?”

“Mom’s in there, the kid’s name is Liam I-” Doug was interrupted by Carter.

“Do I have to be there?” 

“Yes” Doug looked at him, “like I was going to say, I’ll be there in the room watching over just in case, and you too Dr. Carter,” he handed a clear chart for Autumn to take.

She grabbed the paper, a bit nervous, and entered the room with Doug and John behind her, going directly toward the exam table, while the other two men stayed back closer to the door.

Liam was already sitting on the exam table, his legs slightly swinging back and forth, on his hands what seemed to be a keychain. Autumn gave a bright smile to the kid’s mom who sat in a chair next to the boy before she started to talk.

“Hi there,” she snapped on a pair of gloves, “My name is Autumn and they are Dr. Ross and Dr. Carter” she signaled with her right hand the direction where they were standing, John almost jumped at hearing her acknowledge him “I’m a medical student, is it okay if I examine you today?” Autumn waited for the mom’s approval and Liam’s confirmation. When she got a nod from the woman and a shy ‘yes’ from the kid she took her stethoscope off around her neck and prepared to use it.

“It’s nothing too serious, he has just been coughing for a few days and it won’t stop” the mom told her.

“Okay, then let’s take a listen to see what’s going on, Liam can you please sit straight for me?” the little boy did just as he was asked, “excellent, now take a deep breath in”. Autumn listened carefully first to his chest, “and out,” there was a bit of a wheeze but she wanted to be sure so she moved on to listen through his back, “good,now do it again one more time,” and yes, there definitely was. She took off the stethoscope and took down some notes on the chart, “has he had any history of asthma? he or anyone in the family”.

“No, not really” Liam’s mom shook her head, “he rarely gets sick, he’s usually a very healthy kid”.

“Any pets or smokers at home?” Dr. Hawthorn kept on asking the regular questions.

“Not, it’s just us, no other animals or people”

“I see,” Autumn took a moment to think, “if there’s no pets, smokers or prior asthma then I’m going to order a chest X-ray to confirm if it is early bronchitis or just a virus that’s too stubborn to go away yet,” she looked at Dr. Ross to see if he had any objections.

“Sounds about right,” Autumn smiled, “go and put down the order, good job Dr. Hawthorn,” the redhead wanted to scream at Doug’s words but she contained herself and instead just rushed out of the exam room with the biggest smile on her face.

Carter had wanted to stop her to tell her she had been amazing, but decided against it when he noticed she was still not looking at him.

Autumn watched as the technician clipped the X-rays into place, “is this the first one you’re doing alone?” he asked.

“Yes, it is” she got closer to see better.

“Well, the lungs are clear, what were you looking for exactly?” the old man tried to help.

“Just wanted to make sure the patient doesn’t have bronchitis.”

“Doesn’t seem like it”

“Yeah, it probably is just a virus,” Dr. Hawthorn scribbled what she was seeing onto the chart, “can I take those with me? so Dr. Ross can take a look at them”

“Yeah of course, let me get an envelope,” she waited patiently for the man to hand her back a brown envelope with Liam’s X-Rays inside and went on a mission to find Doug. It took her a few minutes but she finally caught him talking to Dr. Greene.

“Dr. Ross, do you have a minute? I have Liam’s X-Rays with me,” she held them up and then handed them over.

“Yeah, let me see” Doug opened the envelope and examined them, “what do you think Dr. Hawthorn?,” he looked at her.

“There’s nothing in the lungs, they are clear, it’s probably just a virus and should be gone soon, so I’d just give him some analgesics as the mom said he had already been coughing for a few days, try to make it go faster. Maybe add a follow-up in case it doesn’t let up?” Autumn prayed to not have forgotten anything and to have made a decent enough presentation.

“That’s exactly what I’d suggest,” the redhead couldn’t help but smile, “you wanna tell the mom?”.

Dr. Hawthorn blinked at him, “me?”

“Yeah of course,” Doug handed her back the X-Rays, “you checked Liam, you made the diagnosis, seems fair don’t you think?”

“Okay, I’d love to”.

“Carter!” Dr. Ross called for him, “go with her,” Autumn did not know if he should thank him or kill him, she’ll decide after releasing Liam.

They walked in silence together to room 2, and when they got there Carter opened the door and moved to the side to let Autumn walk in, going in after her.

Liam was lying on the exam table now, he looked tired and his mom was running her hands through his hair. The woman looked up to the sound of the door closing behind John.

“Hello again,” Autumn greeted, “I’m here to update you on Liam’s X-Rays results, I’m sorry if I took too long, I can see that he is tired,” she walked over to him and placed her left palm on the kid’s forehead, checking that he hadn’t gotten a fever during the time she was gone, but his body temperature was fine. Carter waited on a corner.

“Oh please don’t apologize,” the woman stood up, “is he fine?”

“Yes he is fine,” the mom exhaled, “there was nothing of concern in his lungs, what he’s got is probably just a virus”.

“What can I give him?”

“I’m gonna give him some analgesics, I’ll send in a nurse in a moment to give him his first dose here and then you’ll have to get a prescription and continue to give it to him at home every eight hours,” Autumn took the liberty to write down everything she was saying for Liam and his mom to take home in case they forget, “I also recommend giving him lots of water and a few lemon teas a day or honey sweets to help him with the throat ache from all the coughing, you can also come back in a few days for a follow-up, or sooner if you don’t see any improvement in one or two days,” Dr. Hawthorne gave the woman a sheet of paper full of bullet points with information about what to do.

“Thank you so much doctor, we’ll be back if it is necessary,” Liam got up and stood beside his mother.

“Well let’s hope that’s not necessary,” she took a lollipop out of her pocket and handed it to the boy, “this is for you Liam, it has honey in it, it’ll be good for your throat”.

“Thank you Dr. Autumn,” the redhead smiled and pinched his cheek.

“I’ll go call a nurse to give him the medicine and then you are free to go,” she smiled at the small family for the last time and turned around. Carter opened the door for her again.

“Autumn wait,” John called after her before she could get away.

“What do you need?” she asked lowly, keeping her distance.

“I just wanted to say that you were amazing, really” there was an unmistakable look of pride on John’s face.

“Thanks,” Autumn simply replied and was starting to turn away when he spoke again.

“And I also wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Dr. Carter took a step toward her and she crossed her arms over her chest, “I was an asshole, I know you have nothing going on with Doug”.

“It was something a friend would not think about their friend,” she tried to keep her cool but the relief in her voice could be heard by anyone.

“You’ve been avoiding me” he stated, “it was childish”.

Dr. Hawthorn laughed and Carter smiled at the sound, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say that you were sorry”.

“So we are good now, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are,” Autumn got closer to him to fix his crooked tie, “but next time ask me instead of assuming shit you know it’s not real”.

John gulped at the graze of Autumn’s fingers on his neck, his heart beating faster, “I will, I promise”.

“I have to go tell Carol to give Liam something for his cough,” she started walking backwards, “I’ll see you at 3 for our coffee?”

“Wouldn’t miss it even if I tried,” Dr. Carter waited for Autumn to turn around and then hit the air with his fist.

“Easy loverboy,” Lydia pushed an empty gurney down the corridor, “Dr. Benton is looking for you in trauma 1” and with not one more word Carter practically skipped away, overjoyed by the fact that his and Autumn’s friendship was back to normal.

“What are you doing tonight? It’s Friday” Autumn asked Carter while taking the first sip of her coffee.

“My parents are taking me to an event they got going on” both of them were eating someone else’s donuts.

“You don’t sound too excited” the redhead playfully lifted up the sides of John’s lips with her fingers to make him smile, and it worked.

“That’s because I’m not.” Still, the smile his friend had brought to him did not fade away.

“And why’s that?” Dr. Hawthorn didn’t want to pressure him into dumping more personal information on her if he did not want to, but she was curious. After all, Carter didn’t mention his parents. Like never.

“It’s just boring I guess,” he started, “I just would rather be doing something else, like sleeping” Autumn laughed, “what are you doing?”.

“Probably just listen to some music, try and cook something nice for once,” both took a big gulp from their mugs, almost finishing their coffees. But neither of them wanted their little break to end too soon.

“Like what?” John sat back on his chair and started manspreading.

Autumn almost got caught up in her own words and cleared her throat before speaking again, “music or food wise?”.

“I guess both,” the tiny smirk that appeared on Dr. Carter’s face could’ve killed Dr. Hawthorn right then and there.

“Well, I’m kinda craving some chicken” John pulled a face at that, “what’s wrong with chicken?” she tried to sound hurt, but in reality found it very funny.

“It’s just a bit plain… and boring” he explained.

“Oh and hanging out with your parents on a Friday night it’s not?” she joked.

“What can I say? I’m a family man,” Carter opened up his arms above his head, “whatever, and what music?” he sat straight again, elbows on the table.

Autumn thought for a few seconds, “I kinda have been listening to Linger by The Cranberries nonstop” she confessed.

“What d’you mean? the album it’s on?” she must mean the album. 

“Nope, just the song”.

“Don’t you get tired of it?”

“I don’t get tired of things i like, Carter” Autumn kinda hoped that he would get the hint that she was, in fact, talking about him.

“Not even people?” and maybe he had.

“Not even people,” the redhead confirmed.

The next week, while Autumn and Carter were working a night shift, a snowstorm hit Chicago. So now they were physically stuck at the hospital since snow didn’t seem to stop falling and every means of public transport shut down as it was too dangerous for people to wander around, which meant they were having a quiet and slow night at County General; and even though the thought of being completely confined inside the hospital wasn’t too appealing, they were thankful that it was under those conditions. With not many patients to look after.

Actually, it was a very boring night. Used to the chaos that was the ER, both Autumn and Carter found it hard to stay still without doing anything, and the silence that invaded every corridor and room was upsetting and eerie. And that was the reason they were where they were at that moment.

Carter had managed to somehow steal the keys to the cafeteria kitchen from Linda who was fast asleep, sitting at a chair, without waking her up. Autumn had been on the lookout in case any of the older residents or doctors suddenly appeared and told them off for their little shenanigan.

Once they were inside the cold and big room they got into a fit of laughter, feeling like two bad kids who knew they could get in trouble if found. John was leaning forwards with his hands in his knees, he was having trouble trying to stop laughing but he couldn’t; to the point that his eyes were filling up with tears. Autumn wasn’t too different, she had had to grab the countertop or else she might fall. But unlike Dr. Carter, she had already stopped laughing but had been coughing for the past ten seconds from it.

When John realised the problem the redhead was under, he immediately got close to her and started giving some harsh pats on her back, “are you okay?” He face palmed himself mentally, of course she was not, her face and neck were getting red from all the effort.

“I’m okay” more coughing, “just- water please” Autumn begged.

“Yeah, sure, on it” Carter, as fast as he could, grabbed the first cup he found, filled it up with tap water and gave it to her.

“Thank you”

“Would you like to drink some tea while I cook something for us?” Dr. Carter offered. He was rummaging through the kitchen’s cupboards trying to find a mug, and tea for that matter. 

“That’d be nice, yes” Autumn propelled herself on top of an aisle and watched him put water in the pot and turn the stove on. The heat that radiated from it warmed them up a bit. “What’s on the menu chef.”

John took some stuff from the fridge and placed it beside her, “I was thinking maybe I could cut some vegetables and cook them with some chicken?”

“I thought chicken was boring” the redhead poked the man on the ribs, tickling him and getting a smile out of it.

“Not my chicken ma’am, no” he started by washing up some carrots.

“Okay then, amaze me” Dr. Hawthorn handed Carter a big knife.

“Oh, you will, believe me.”

Autumn took a liking to watching John cook for her. She didn’t know if he was doing it to impress her or because he actually was a good cook, and she’ll find out sooner or later which is the case. “Do you like snow?”

“I like playing with it I guess” he moved on to some onions.

“Like snowball fights you mean?” The redhead stole a piece of carrot from the pile he had just finished cutting.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Carter pointed at her with the knife but she just laughed, “yes of course I mean snowball fights, what else can you do in the snow?” 

“Oh come on! you don’t like doing snow angels?” she bit down on the orange stick.

“No, I don’t like getting all my clothes wet from laying on the freezing ground,” it was the turn of the bell peppers to get cut into surprisingly thin slices.

“That’s lame John, you sound like an old grandpa” Autumn took the piece of chicken’s breast out of the tray it was in and handed it to him.

“I’m not a grandpa,” he complained.

“No, you’re right” he was worse, “my grandpa at least loved doing snow angels with me, on the freezing ground may I add.”

Carter rolled his eyes, “of course he did you’re his granddaughter.”

A few minutes passed and Carter had finished chopping all the ingredients and put them on a cooking pot when Autumn spoke again “I think I’d beat you in a snowball fight” it was a lie, she was awful at them; but, she also loved to tease him.

“No way, no one beats my throw” he was now looking at her, having finished his job for the time being.

“I think I could,” the redhead pressed.

“Fine” John caved in, “once the snow lets down we’ll go outside and I’ll show you how good I am.”

“Okay, loser has to get the morning coffees for both of us the entire next week” Dr. Hawthorn extended her hand for him to shake.

“Deal,” he took it and gave it a firm shake “you’re going to regret it.”

“I don’t think I will,” Autumn tried as best as she could to not show how she felt the moment John’s way bigger hand got into contact with hers. The man’s felt warmer and stronger against her own. Internally she wished they never had to let go. Carter was the one to let go so he could grab a bottle of kitchen oil and uncap it.

“Carter I don’t think you shou-” she tried to warn him but it was too late, he had already let big splash of oil hit the burning hot pot, sending flames into the air, “OH MY GOD”

“Oh shit-” John jumped back.

“PUT THE LID ON PUT THE LID ON” Autumn pointed to the lid that was resting behind him. 

Once the flow of oxygen had been stopped from getting inside the pot, putting off the fire, Carter turned off the stove. “I’m sorry, I hope you like your vegetables and chicken a bit crisp.”

Dr. Hawthorn jumped off the countertop and patted him on the shoulder, “I always liked my food a bit smoked,” she tried to joke while getting some plates and utensils for them.

“Just don’t consider this as my cooking, okay?” Dr. Carter served some of his slightly burned dish on each plate, “I swear I'm a good cook.”

“I’ll have to taste it to believe it.”

“Someday I’ll cook for you again and you’ll have to swallow your words,” they took the first bite and it wasn’t that bad.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!” Autumn found it cute how distressed he was getting over it when the food really wasn’t bad.

“No, but you thought about it”

“No, I did not” they kept on eating. “This was actually quite good.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice,” John took their empty plates to the sink.

Autumn followed him so she could wash them as a thank you, “again, no I’m not.” Carter looked at her with his hands on his hips and eyebrows raised. “I’m being serious, this was better than whatever I could’ve prepared for myself at home, thank you.”

“You’re welcome” he took to helping the redhead dry the dishes with a towel he found laying around and started putting them back where he had found them. “So, what now?”

Dr. Hawthorn rinsed her hands, “let’s check with Lydia, maybe there’s something we can help on.”

“That sounds boring” John complained and Autumn laughed a laugh that was more than music for his ears.

“That sounds like work,” they made sure to tidy everything up before getting out the kitchen and locking it up again, “if there’s nothing then I’ll take you up on that snowball fight.”

“What have you done?” Lydia asked them when Carter left the keys on top of the desk in front of her.

“How are you Lydia? Enjoyed your nap?” Autumn knew the woman liked her a tiny bit more than she liked John.

“Like a kid enjoys their sweets,” the nurse joked, “what are you two up to?”

“We just stole some chi-” John was interrupted by Dr Hawthorn’s index finger on his lips, attempting to shut him up.

“Is there something for us to do? Any patient?” Both residents sure hoped there wouldn’t be.

“No, at least no one has been admitted since I’ve been awake,” nurse Wright explained, “and last time I checked Dr. Greene was sleeping in the break room so I guess no.”

“Could you page us in case something comes up?” Carter begged while handing Dr. Hawthorn her scarf and beanie that he had picked up from said room on their way from the cafeteria’s kitchen.

“Where are you going?” The woman looked at them like they were crazy.

“Just outside the ambulance bay, we want to see the snow,” Autumn said as she followed Dr. Carter to the door and he held it open for her.

“But it’s freezing out there” Lydia yelled at them.

“That’s the entire point,” John yelled back before stepping out and closing the door.

The moment their feet landed on the outside pavement a chill ran through their spines. Lydia was absolutely right, it was freezing. Carter took a moment to look at Autumn through the corner of his eye. Her big green scarf covered her up almost to the lips, her matching beanie covered her ears, though he could see a bit of it getting red from the cold; her hair was tucked under it and under her big brown leg length coat that didn’t graze the floor just by a few inches. He watched her let out a puff of air that turned white when it came into contact with the air outside and wished he was close enough to her face to inhale it himself. She looked perfect, as if they hadn’t spent hours and hours running around an ER filled with patients before the storm hit. Self-consciousness invaded him, he probably looked like he had been run over by a truck.

Yet Autumn thought he had never looked better. Yes, he looked tired; but so did she. And she wondered if that was how he looked like every time he got home and got into bed, drained from all the time spent at County General. She cursed at herself for wearing a coat with no pockets and forgetting her woolen gloves at home, because Carter’s hair seemed like the best place for her cold hands to rest and get warm and she was fighting every cell in her body to not do so.

“Are you ready to get your ass beat?” He finally broke the silence around them.

“Don’t get so cocky Dr. Carter,” the redhead teased, walking toward the snow.

“Dr. Carter? You must mean business…” he followed her like a puppy follows its owner.

“That I do,” her sneakers started getting wet and she instantly knew that meant she’d get a cold by the next morning, but at that moment the possibility of having to be a mouth breather for a few days did not worry her. 

“So, loser is on coffee duty?” that was what they had agreed.

“I’d like to change it up a bit if you let me,” Autumn bent her knees to grab a handful of snow.

“I’m listening,” he’d agree to anything she asked of him.

“If you win, I’ll be on coffee duty,” Dr. Hawthorn said with a grin on her face that told Carter she was up to no good when he looked at her, also getting down to pick up some snow, “if I win, you have to do a snow angel with me” she finished while both of them tried to mold into balls the snow on their hands.

John pretended to be thinking about it, but in reality he had nothing to think about. “You’re on,” he agreed and threw the first ball in her direction, hitting her on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Autumn tried to sound offended, “I wasn’t ready!” she threw hers back and hit him on his chest.

Carter was surprised by the strength of her throw, “where did you learn to throw like that?”

“I might’ve forgotten to mention that I took baseball classes as a kid” Dr. Hawthorn stood as if she was a player and snapped her arm forward, sending a big ball of snow into the air at high speed, crashing directly on Carter’s stomach.

“That’s totally cheating,” he started to complain “and you know it,” he tried to do the same movements as her, but she dodged it.

“No it’s not, I just didn’t tell you the entire truth,” Autumn repeated her last throw, but this time her snowball landed on John's face, most precisely his nose.

Dr. Carter took his hands to his face and bent his knees forward a bit. A muffled grunt escaping his lips.

“OH MY GOD” Autumn rushed to his side the moment she noticed what had happened, “I’m so so sorry John, let me see” she grabbed his hands to remove them from his face so she could see the damage she had caused.

“It’s fine, I’m fine” John tried to assure her, but his face said otherwise.

“No you’re not, your nose is bleeding” Autumn bent his head backwards to stop the blood from flowing and staining his clothes, “let’s go inside and I’ll help you clean up”

“Okay, yeah that I can take,” John was kinda glad for the hit he took if it meant he’ll have the redhead tending to him, close to his face.

They ran inside the hospital and into an exam room as fast as they could in order to avoid being seen by Lydia or they’d probably get scolded. Carter sat down on the exam table while Dr. Hawthorn prepared some gauze to clean his nose and upper lip as some blood had already dried there. She tilted his head back by grabbing him by the chin. John was looking at her with sad puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that” she started to gently rub on his nose with the gauze, “you’ll make me feel bad”

“You broke my nose” he played with her.

“No I did not! don’t be a baby” she punched him on the arm before putting some cotton in one of his nostrils as it was still bleeding a bit, “I guess we could say I won…”

“Yeah, through cheating,” Carter could not resist the urge to fix Autumn’s hair that was falling on his face as she hovered over him. He took a strand that was grazing his cheek and moved it to rest behind her shoulder.

The redhead smiled at the gesture and finished cleaning him up, “now you owe me some snow angels”

“We’ll see about that” John tapped on his nose to see if it was hurting, it was not.

“You know you will do it” Autumn put away everything she had used.

“How can you be so sure?” He knew he would do it, but still he wanted to know why she was so sure.

“‘Cause you don’t seem like the type of guy to break a promise” she started explaining, “and I think you like me too much not to” Dr. Hawthorn had no idea from where she had gotten the guts to say that. She didn’t mean it romantically. Well, yeah she did. But Carter didn’t know that. Couldn't know that, or it’ll be the end of her.

Carter did not know what to say, he couldn’t say yes but he also could not not say anything at all. So he just awkwardly laughed, and now the moment felt as uncomfortable as ever. He noticed the way Autumn’s face changed at his response and it made him feel the most terrible and stupid he had felt in his entire life.

“I’m going to the break room,” the redhead let him know, grabbing the room’s handle to get away from him. Great, he had definitely ruined it, they were having an awesome night together but he had to be the one to end it.

“I’ll go with you,” he quickly got up and followed her.

“Suit yourself,” was all Dr. Hawthorn replied to him.

As they walked down the corridor Carter tried to find something to say, but what? Yeah you’re right I like you, like a lot, and risk being rejected by her?  No chance. Autumn didn’t like him, at least not in the way he liked her, he was sure of that; so, he wasn’t going to put their friendship on the line because of his silly crush. It’ll go away eventually, he hoped.

Once they were in the break room, neither of them said a word. The redhead sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, faking being interested in some news about the stock market. John sat down next to her, he knew she hated anything that had to do with stock, every time a man who looked like he owned assets came into the ER for help she’d leave him to someone else. 

They were the only ones there at the moment, Dr. Greene must have woken up at some point and gone somewhere else. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit Carter, it made sense as it should have been almost four in the morning, which meant he had been awake for almost an entire day with no naps in between. Autumn must have been as tired as him because he could feel how her breathing slowed down second by second, and after a few minutes he was also dozing off too when an external weight landed on his left shoulder.

It was her head.

Autumn was resting her head on his shoulder.

Carter smiled to himself and moved his head a bit to be able to watch her. She looked at peace, and there was nothing he loved more than to see that: her relaxed, next to him. It was the fact that he felt Autumn was comfortable enough with him to the point of falling asleep, none other than on his shoulder, when they were the only two living souls in the room that made his heart jump. The smell of coconut from her shampoo and the vanilla in her perfume reached his nose, he could swear on god that never in his life had he smelled something as delicious.

And just like that, he fell asleep too. With his head on top of hers.

And in that moment he did not care at all that someone would probably walk in and see them like that, that depending on who would it be the entire hospital would hear about it, that they’d be the targets of jokes for an entire week; ‘cause it meant that, at least on someone else’s mind, Autumn and him fit together.

Christmas time arrived at County General Hospital as quick as days were cold, and everyone was too excited for secret santa to come. It was the 23rd of December and they were supposed to give out the gifts that day since not all were coming back until after Christmas.

The picking process had been easy, Autumn had been in charge of writing down in tiny pieces of paper the names of all the workers that were participating, and then each one pulled out from a mug, the name you picked was the person you were buying for.

Dr. Hawthorn’s paper had said Susan, and she got her a long dark blue trench coat she had heard her say she wanted for a long time.

But Carter was overjoyed and excited from the moment he opened his and read, on her neat cursive “Autumn”. Since that moment ten days ago, he had paid even more attention than he usually did to everything she said just in case it gave him an idea about what to give her. And once he finally made up his mind and prepared his gift for her, he had been counting down the days until he was able to give it to her.

He arrived at the ER with the package he himself had wrapped in red paper under his arm and went straight to the break room to save it in his locker so Autumn would not see it. He was planning on giving it to her when they’d be doing their walk to the bus stop, where Carter always waited with her until her’s came.

“That’s a big box” Susan commented the moment she saw him enter the room, “who’s your lucky secret santa?”

“I’m not telling you” he opened his locker and had to play tetris with the stuff he had in it so Autumn’s gift would fix.

“Come on! why not?” Dr. Lewis almost screamed and got closer to him.

“‘Cause you’ll tell her” it took him a few tries but he was able to close the metal door.

“You know I would never tell Autumn you’re her lucky santa,” after hearing the blonde say that, John turned around abruptly, almost crashing into her and making a mess of the coffee mug she was holding.

“How did yo-” he really wanted it to be a surprise.

“You wouldn’t put effort into personally wrapping whatever’s inside there if it wasn’t her,” she kinda had a point, but he was not going to give himself away so easily. Susan and Carol had been trying to get him to confess his feelings for Dr. Hawthorn for a few weeks now and, surprisingly, he hadn’t fallen into it, yet.

“That’s not true,” it actually was, “I would’ve done it for anyone”

“So what you’re saying is that it actually is her,” Susan crossed her arms on top of her chest.

“I said I’m not telling you” John was almost to the door when he heard Dr. Lewis speak again.

“Whatever you say, loverboy” there was the nickname, again. He raised his middle finger at her without turning around.

Autumn had just gotten there where he reached the front desk, looking for her, and his coffee. The redhead handed it to him before she set hers down while taking off her big green scarf with one only with one hand.

“You know you still owe me that snowangel” Dr. Hawthorn pointed her index finger at him, “It’s been weeks”

“And here I thought you had forgotten about it,” he took a sip from the styrofoam cup, “thanks for the coffee by the way” he was trying to divert the topic of conversation to something else.

“I already told you to stop thanking me every day for it” she really had, but every time he tries to pay her back she says no, “and no, I didn’t forget about it, I’ll never forget about it”

Carter threw his head back and grunted, “fine, next time it snows I’ll do a snow angel with you” he finally gave in.

“You know they say it’ll snow on new year’s eve,” Autumn told him and signaled for him to follow her.

“Then it’s a good thing we’ll be stuck here” they were working a night shift on new year’s eve, which meant they’d be starting it together.

Carter would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamt about a midnight kiss. ‘Cause he had. Twice in a row. Both times he had woken up in a sweat, having to take a cold shower despite the coldness of winter outside.

He noticed that the redhead didn’t bring in anything that resembled a present with her, “did you forget your secret santa gift at home?”

“huh?” Autumn was confused for a moment, “oh right! No, I kinda cheated and gave it early.”

John was bumped over the fact that this confirmed his was not the name written on her paper, “and who was it?”

“Dr. Lewis” that’s why she had asked him about it in the break room, “bought her a blue trench coat.”

Everyone knew Susan loved her coats, “she probably loved it.”

“She did, I saw her wearing it yesterday,” they arrived at the break room, again, where Autumn finished taking off her extra layers of clothing and putting them away inside her locker, “who’s yours?”

Carter smiled at her back, grateful that she was not able to see his little slip, “you can’t know that.”

“But it’s almost over,” he was not going to fall into this one, “I just want to know if you’re good at giving presents, I promise I won’t tell” the redhead turned around and rested her hands at her hips.

“Well, you said it yourself it’s almost over,” John said while laughing and she rolled her eyes, “you’ll know eventually” she was going to love it, he was sure.

“But you already know min-” Autumn’s protest was interrupted by Dr. Benton.

“Dr. Hawthorn, there’s a kid with early signs of pneumonia in room 4 and Dr. Ross needs your help,” he instructed her, “Carter paramedics are bringing in a GSW to the chest in two minutes, go to trauma 1 right now.”

“Yes sir” both residents responded at the same time.

The rest of the shift went on as usual, always a little hectic, especially with the holidays around the corner. Some firework’s injuries and kids sick with the flu.

Carter and Autumn were ready to get the hell out of there. They grabbed their stuff from the break room as fast as they could, just in case a new patient came in and delayed their exit, and practically ran out of County General.

They were already walking on the sidewalk when John noticed she was shivering and not wearing her coat, “where’s your coat?”

“I forgot to grab in the hurry of getting out” she engulfed herself in her own arms, thankful to at least have a big sweater and her green scarf on.

“Here,” Carter started to take off his own coat, “have mine.”

“Oh no no” the redhead tried to stop him by tapping his forearms, “you’ll get sick John, we’re almost to my bus stop.”

“Just let me-” he stopped in his tracks and set the wrapped box he was carrying on the floor, “and as soon as you get on your bus I’ll hail a cab while you have the entire ride home and another few blocks to walk,” he extended the black jacket to her, “just put it on please.”

“Fine” she accepted and started to put it on while Carter picked up the gift and resumed walking, “just because I’ve already been exposed to too much flu today…” that made him chuckle, “did you not get to see your secret santa?” Autumn looked at his arms.

“I actually did, she’s wearing my jacket right now,” he tried to be smooth.

“No way! Seriously?” Dr. Hawthorn stopped walking.

“Yes, this” he handed her the box, “is for you” John watched her expectantly as she sat down on a bench they had stopped in front of and started tearing off the paper.

Once all the red was out of the picture, Autumn’s mouth dropped in awe and his eyes opened like saucers. She immediately set it down beside her and jumped to hug Carter.

“A moka pot?!” she screamed in his ear as her arms interlocked in the back of his neck and she felt him do the same around her waist.

“Do you like it?” his voice was filled with excitement over her excitement, he knew he had nailed it.

“I fucking love it, seriously” they broke apart, “thank you so much it’s the best thing you could’ve given to me.”

“I’m glad you like it, take it as a ‘thank you’ for all the coffees you bring me and don’t let me pay for” the smiles on their faces could not get bigger even if they tried.

They continued their little journey to Autumn’s stop while she read aloud, from the back of the box, all the special features her new coffee maker had. And when it was time for her to get on it, both wished she would have invited him over to try it for the first time; but Autumn was too shy to suggest it and Carter was too scared to ask.

That night, John dreamt of a midnight kiss from his friend, again. Only this time it also included breakfast in bed and two mugs of freshly brewed espresso.

When New Year’s Eve came around and it found Dr. Hawthorn and Dr. Carter like they said it would, snowed in and stuck in another night shift, they didn’t mind it at all. If you had asked them if they preferred to spend that night at home or right where they were at that point, they wouldn’t second guess going for the latter option.

They weren’t able to spend much time together as John had been invited by Dr. Benton to help out in an open heart surgery, an opportunity he couldn’t miss and that had lasted nearly seven hours. Which had left Autumn to her own devices most of the day, even though Dr. Ross had kept her occupied with lots of sutures and taught her to do a spinal tap.

But when the clock marked 11:55 p. m. , all the ER staff got together at the entry desk. Dr. Hawthorn helped Lydia and Dr. Greene’s wife, Jen, pass around some non-alcoholic fruit punch to toast with at midnight, giving everyone a tiny cup.

By the time they finished serving it was a few seconds 'till 12 p. m. and Autumn found her place next to Carter.

“Hey, long time no see” he greeted.

“I’m very happy that you got to help Dr. Benton on that surgery but it was such a bore without you here,” the redhead confessed, “I missed you.”

John felt his heart jump in his chest, “I mi-”

“TEN, NINE-” he wanted to tell her that he had missed her too, a lot; but the countdown set him back.

“EIGHT, SEVEN-” Autumn joined in, still looking at him.

“SIX, FIVE, FOUR, THREE-” Carter copied her, yelling the numbers in each other’s faces.

“TWO, ONE-” God she wished he would kiss her.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” And he would have done so if they had been alone.

For now the clink of their glasses and a hug, so tight they felt their insides stood on new places, had to suffice.

TAGLIST: @thinemineours @Katydunn047-blog @delicatetrashtree

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 16

Set during Season 5, Episode 22 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy symptoms, multiple POVs

WC: 6.0 k

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, and @antisocialfiore

Main Story: prev | next

Snapshots: prev | next

Carter lightly closed the door to Dr. Weaver’s house. He had left Evie’s apartment to get back here in time to change and get to work. He didn’t feel right leaving her alone, especially after everything that happened yesterday, but he didn’t have much of a choice. It was too late to call in and he was going to need every shift he could get now that they were having a baby. So, he wrote her a note and made his way back to his place. 

“Getting in a little late, I see.” 

Carter jumped away from the basement door and turned to see Kerry standing in the living room. “Uh, yeah. I was over at Evie’s.”

“Is she doing okay? Mark told me what happened when he was fixing her schedule.” 

Carter sighed. Of course, Kerry knew. She was an attending; she needed to know. “She’s okay. No more bleeding once we got back to her place.” 

“That’s good. Bed rest should help with that. I’m glad she’s okay.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“Am I allowed to say congratulations?” 

This caused him to pause as he reached into his pocket, feeling the ultrasound photo he had torn off from the strip that remained on her fridge. Kerry was the first person outside of the two of them to even suggest verbally that this was a good thing. They both had agreed not to tell anyone else officially until after her follow up, so a part of it still felt like they weren’t allowed to celebrate. But now here Kerry was, offering it to him. 

And he wanted it. He wanted it badly. 

“Uh, yeah. We decided to keep the baby.” 

“Well, congratulations. I know everyone will be very happy for you both.” 

“Thanks.”

And with that, he opened the doors and headed down the stairs. 

Carter felt the eyes boring into him as soon as he got to the admit desk. He tried to shake it off, ignore it, but it was hard. It made him tingle all over in a way that felt like ants were crawling under his skin. He didn’t like it. So finally, he turned around just to see who the hell it was that had such a keen interest on him. 

It didn’t shock him that it was Haleh. 

“Good morning, Haleh.” He said calmly before turning back to the charts. 

“Carter.” She said and walked up to him. “You wouldn’t happen to know why Evie was admitted last night, would you?” 

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Or why the other nurses saw Carol take her out in a wheelchair to your car?” 

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. She got him there. “Or why she’s now on medical leave for two weeks?” 

“You looked at her schedule?” 

“I have access to everyone’s.”

“Well, it’s not really my place to give out someone else’s medical information.” 

“But w—” 

“Carter.” Thank God for Dr. Greene. “Dr. Romano and I are about to start rounds. Do you know where Lucy is?”

“Uh, no. I haven’t see her yet today. Hey Jerry, could you page Lucy?”

“No problem.” 

“Let’s get this show on the road, gentlemen.” Romano exclaimed. “I don’t have all day.”

The two other men nodded and began leading Romano to the first room. “How’s Evie?” Mark said, his voice low. 

“Um, she’s okay.”

“Any......”

“No, no. No more bleeding since we left last night. She was still asleep when I had to leave this morning. I was going to call her later and check in.”

“Good. Good. Just tell her don’t hesitate to come in if something happens. And keep us updated. We can help out where we can.”

“Thanks, Dr.  Greene.” 

They went into Exam 2, and since Lucy wasn’t there, Carter began to present the patient. “Second EKG was normal, so we’ll hold for another hour, then release.” The sound of running feet stopped him as Lucy entered the room, disheveled and out of breath.  

“Thank you, Dr. Carter.” Romano said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Ms. Knight. Would you be catching your breath from running to get here because you're 20 minutes late?” 

“Sorry.”

“Let's proceed.” Mark warned, walking over to the other patient. 

“With presenting Mr. David Chameides.” Carter finished as Romano handed him the chart before he handed it to Lucy. “Complains of back pain.” 

“Yep. Uh, this is a -year-old man. He complains, um, he presents with back pain, and he said it started two days ago when he helped his daughter move into her new apartment.” She scrambled for her notecards, still out of breath. “He was lifting heavy boxes, and she was living in Dubuque... ...but got divorced, so she moved to Chicago... Did I mention the pain was constant?”

“Not yet.” Romano sighed. 

“Well, it is. And upon physical examination...”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What about pertinent negatives?” 

“No fever, no trauma...no abdominal pain, no...” She began to just keep repeating no, messing with her hair as she scrambled more. “He's a heavy smoker... And the BP is one... Sorry.” She dropped her card and struggled trying to find the one with his BP written down. “BP is 170/95. No. No, no. His BP is 170/100. Pulse, 95. 

“Neuro exam normal?”

“Yes.”

“And could you appreciate a pulsatile abdominal mass?”

“No.”

“But the ultrasound revealed an abdominal aortic aneurysm.”

“How did you know that?”

“Dr. Carter?”

“Patient has all the risk factors.” Carter said, his leg fidgeting as he felt the secondhand embarrassment. 

“Miss Knight, presenting a case is like telling a good story. Succinct, focused, to the point. You lost me around Dubuque. Dr. Carter, Ms. Knight is a student of yours, is that right?”

“Yes.” He sighed, crossing his arms. 

“Work harder. Thank God I have a small bowel obstruction waiting for me upstairs. Gentlemen, Ms. Knight.” And he left through the trauma room door. 

“I think we can all thank God for that small bowel.” Mark said, a disappointed look on his face.

Carter shoved his hands into his lab coat and looked at Lucy. “If you're gonna be late, at least be prepared.” He said, before leaving the room. 

My eyes slowly opened as my body finally allowed me out of sleep. The sun was shining in through the crack in the curtain, the beam of light resting on the bed. As I stretched, I turned over, finding that Carter was on longer beside me, but there was a piece of paper in his place. 

Headed to work. Please call me if anything happens and please rest. You need it.                                           -Carter

I sighed and laid on my back, folding the note back up. I could already feel that this bedrest was going to be the bane of my existence. But I put a hand on my lower abdomen, knowing it would be worth it. I couldn’t believe I was having a baby, and with Carter of all people. If the Evie from five years ago could see me now, she’d be shocked. 

Thankfully, it was my bladder that got me out of bed this morning and not my stomach, something very rare these days. I slowly got out of bed and made my way down the hall to the bathroom. I took care of my business quickly, but once I was finished, I looked down and my heart squeezed.

“Oh, God, please, no.”

There was blood. Not as much as yesterday, but I could still clearly tell there was spotting. I got up and hurried out to the living room, finding my purse beside the phone. I dug around until I found the business card with Dr. Coburn’s office number on it. After a couple of rings and a panicked plea to the receptionist, I was able to get through.

“Dr. Coburn speaking.”

“Hi, Dr. Coburn. This is Genevieve Monroe. I’m the ER nurse you saw last night for the hematoma. You said to call if something happened and I’m bleeding again.”

“Okay. Before we get too worked up, let’s take a couple deep breaths.” I followed her instructions for a few seconds. “Good. Now, are you actually bleeding, or is it spotting?”

“Uh, I would probably say spotting. It’s not heavy like yesterday.”

“Is the blood bright red?”

“No.”

“Are you cramping at all?”

“Not that I’ve felt.”

“Well, that sounds like good news to me. It’s probably just residual bleeding, but we are still going to take it seriously. If you have a pad, I want you to put it on and keep track of anymore bleeding. If it soaks through in under two hours, you need to come back to the ER right away. Otherwise, just monitor it, especially for cramping, we don’t want cramping. And you can always call me back if you are unsure.”

“Thank you.” I said, my voice cracking. “God, I’m a nurse, but I well so helpless.”

“OB/GYN isn’t your specialty. It’s trauma and emergency, you treat the in the moment. It’s okay to not know and to ask questions. It is your first baby after all.” 

“Thank you, Dr. Coburn.” 

“No problem. Why don’t you stay on the line, and I will transfer back to my receptionist so we can get your follow up scheduled.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Get some rest and try not to worry.” 

After getting my appointment scheduled to two weeks from yesterday, I felt a whole lot better. I did what she said and got the pad, hoping I wouldn’t have any more scares the rest of the day. I grabbed a sleeve of crackers and a water, before parking myself on the couch with a pillow and blanket. I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, the phone was ringing.

“Hello?” I asked, sleep still in my voice.

“Hey, Evie!” Chuny’s cheerful voice came from the other end. “What’s going on? Kerry called and asked me to cover for you. Are you okay?” 

I swallowed. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Just not feeling too great.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to bring you anything? Medicine? Oh, my mom has a great soup recipe for wiping out a cold.”

I scoffed and ran a hand through my hair. “Thanks, Chuny, I appreciate it. But I’m okay. Just really need to rest.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind, let me know. The soup’s pretty good either way.” 

My stomach swirled. “I will, I promise. Talk to you later.”

I didn’t let her respond before I hung up and I was up and off to the bathroom, preemptively finding a spot on the tile floor. You know, just in case. 

 “Jerry, have you seen my palmtop computer?” Lucy asked as she searched through admit. 

Carter scoffed. “That's why you're so scattered this morning? You lost your electronic cheat sheet?” He picked up the next chart in the holder and furrowed his brow. “Hey, Jerry, when did Antoine Bell come in?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, he asked for you.” Jerry sighed, just as scattered as Lucy. “I’m sorry. I put him in Trauma One.”

“Look, just give me a break, alright.” Lucy snapped as she followed the young doctor. “I didn’t get much sleep. I was late and I got my cards all messed up.”

“I've done a hundred presentations without notes, without computers or definitely without sleep. So why don’t you get yourself a cup of coffee and pull yourself together?”

“I am together. I went off the Ritalin.”

“When?”

“Two days ago.”

“That's great. Look, I got a patient. Maybe we can talk more later.”

“Sure.” Lucy scoffed and turned to probably find her missing item. Carter sighed and walked into Trauma One, finding Antoine sitting on the gurney.

“Antoine.” He started, pulling out a pair of gloves. “I expected to see you today. Just not like this.” 

“Antoine does not associate with any of those gangs.” A woman standing behind the boy said as he pulled the stool up. 

“He knows that, Mom.” Antoine cringed, embarrassed. 

“This was one of those bad boys from the neighborhood. And I hate that you go to school with them too.”

“Can we just let Dr. Carter do his job?” Antoine groaned. 

“Dr. Carter?” The woman’s face lit up. “I am so happy to meet you. Antoine has so enjoyed all you've been teaching him.” She praised as Carter began checking over the kid. “And thank you for setting up this interview for him to go to.” 

“Oh, yeah. That's this afternoon, right?” Carter asked, checking his eyes. “Summer science lab.”

“Maybe I won't go now.”

“Of course you’re going.” His mother jumped in. 

“Looking like this? What are they gonna think?” 

“Hey, let's worry about that later, huh?” Carter mussed, trying to calm the situation. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Got mugged, took my wallet.”

“Follow my finger with your eyes.”

“You want an orbital series?” Lily asked. Normally it would be Evie asking him, which made him a little sad.

“Yeah, let's check for a rim fracture.” He confirmed, pressing on Antoine’s face. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

“No septal hematoma and no broken nose.” He informed as he stripped off his gloves. “But you may have an orbital fracture.”

“What do we do about that?” His mother asked.  

“Just apply ice, keep his head elevated when he sleeps.” Lily handed the boy an ice pack before going to order the tests. “We'll wait on the X-ray to see if he needs antibiotics.”

“Can he go to the interview?”

“Mom!”

“Come on, Antoine. It's not that bad. You've worked hard for this. We've worked hard for this. I think your mom's right. Hey, you'll be the candidate they'll remember.” He pat Antoine’s arm, trying to reassure him. 

“Where’s Evie?” The teenager asked. “I thought she would be in here.”

Carter chuckled. “Uh, Evie isn’t here today. She’s not feeling too great so she’s at home, resting.” Or at least he hoped she was. 

A few minutes later, transport came to grab Antoine for his X-ray. As he was being wheeled off, his mother stayed behind for a moment. “Thank you again, Dr. Carter. I know Antoine appreciates your mentorship. You’re very good with him. Do you have kids of your own?”

Carter put his hands in his pocket and smiled. No one else was around, so he might as well tell her the truth. “Uh, soon. My, uh, my girlfriend and I are expecting.”

“Oh, congratulations.” She said, smiling. He nodded and returned it. 

“Let’s go catch up with Antoine.” He said, gesturing forward. 

His chest was warm. He really liked calling Evie his girlfriend. 

Once again, I was awakened by the sound of the phone ringing. Damn, they really meant it when they said growing a whole human being was tiring. And now that I was forced to rest, my body sure was taking advantage. I fully sat up and pushed the blanket off me before I grabbed the receiver and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Evie, hey.” It was Carol. I chuckled and shook my head. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. This is just the second call I’ve received from the ER today checking in on me.”

“Who was it earlier?”

“Chuny. Asked if I was sick with a cold. I almost laughed and told her I wasn’t that kind of sick and her mom’s soup couldn’t fix things this time.”

“I think they might know.”

“Really? I didn’t think anyone really saw me last night.”

“Well, if it’s not you, it’s defiantly me. There’s some weird medically psychic lady in here that basically spilled the beans in front of Lydia. Asked me about my due date and everything.”

“Weird.” I shrugged. “But my mom used to say some women just know when someone else is pregnant. Especially if they have also had kids.”

“Well, if they’re focused on me, maybe they won’t bother you. How are you by the way?”

“Exhausted. I think I’ve slept the majority of the day.”

“That sounds about right.” Carol chuckled. 

“I woke up bleeding a light bit, that did freak me out.”

“Do you need to come back in? I can go find Carter.”

“No, don’t worry him. I called Dr. Coburn and she said everything should be okay and gave me some things to look out for. I think it might have just been a false alarm.”

“Good. We don’t want anything to happen to my little nephew.”

Now this time I actually laughed. “Nephew, huh? This kid is barely the size of a blueberry and you’re already making claims on the gender.”

“Absolutely. You might have John Truman Carter IV growing in there.”

I groaned. “Oh, good lord. That sounds so ridiculous.” 

“Tell that to your baby daddy, not me.” 

“Don’t say that to loud.” I warned. “The gossip hounds will hear you and go crazy.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m glad you and blueberry are doing okay. Make sure you eat and drink something. I’ll call you later.”

“Same goes for you and your pear.” 

Haleh always knew when Carter was keeping something from her. He had the worst poker face in the world, especially when it came to anything having to do with Evie. She knew something was up from the minute she saw she was off on medical leave for the next two weeks. And the fact it was signed off by Dr. Coburn got her maternal senses tingling. She would know by the end of the day. Getting stuff out of people was her specialty.

As she walked up to admit, she saw Chuny, Lydia, Yosh, and Jerry huddled together. And she could have sworn she heard them mention someone being knocked up. So, it was true, and it was obvious to others. She knew she was right. 

“Are you all talking about Evie?” Haleh asked, stepping into their group. 

“What about Evie?” Lydia asked.

“She’s pregnant. Or at least I’m sure she is. Got wheeled out of here last night into Carter’s car and she’s now on medical leave for the next two weeks, ordered by Dr. Coburn.”

“I did catch her and Carter in the drug lock up a few weeks ago.” Chuny admitted.

“And you didn’t tell us?”

“I forgot. It was the night of that big storm.”

“I knew they would always get together.” Yosh added.

“Well then that means Evie and Carol are both pregnant.” Lydia scoffed.

“Carol’s pregnant?” Haleh asked. “Is she happy about it?”

“She hasn’t told anyone.” Yosh said. 

“She must have told someone.”

“Well, what about Evie? Who worked her up yesterday?” 

That’s when Mark passed through them, trying to get to the other side of admit. Haleh pointed at him with her pen while his back was turned. All eyes went to him and stared. He must have felt it because he looked back. 

“What?” The doctor asked, before leaving as quickly as he came.

“I’m calling her.” Haleh announced and pushed through to the phone. She dialed Evie’s home number and waited as it rang. It went on for a while before the other line clicked.

“Hello?” Evie’s voice was raspy, and she coughed.

“Hi sweetie, it’s Haleh. I just wanted to call and check up on you.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Just hurling my guts out is all.”

“You’re throwing up?” Haleh asked, the other people around her grinning and looking at each other with wide eyes. “That’s not good. Has that been happening a lot.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s what happens with you have the flu.” She stuttered on the other end.

“The flu?” 

Chuny’s eyebrows furrowed. “She told me it was a cold.” She whispered.

Haleh smirked. “Are you sure it’s the flu?” 

“Pretty sure.” Evie said, her voice raising in pitch. Haleh rolled her eyes. She was definitely lying. 

“Well, make sure you get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids. And call us if you need any help.”

“Yeah. I promise I will. Thanks for checking in.”

“No problem. Talk to you later.” Haleh hung up the phone and looked around at the others. “Oh, that girl is definitely pregnant.”

Let the gossip mill begin. 

Carter was getting frustrated. He had been going nonstop from the moment he got to the ER this morning, and now into the afternoon it was still the same. He had yet to find a moment to call Evie. He wanted to check and make sure she was okay and that she was doing what Dr. Coburn asked. He hated to think something could happen and he wasn’t there to help. Was quick phone call to reassure him really that hard to ask for? 

He stepped back into the hallway after his talk with Dr. Green about Lucy, another problem he’d have to find time to address. He looked down at his watch as he heard the familiar click of Kerry’s crutch. “Hey, Carter, you busy? I need you to look at that patient.” She said pointing to the gurney getting wheeled into trauma.

“Yeah, okay.” He sighed, putting the phone call in the back of his mind. 

“Thank you.” Kerry said before hurrying away. Carter took his time to walk down the hall and round the corner. And when he finally got to the room, he was shocked to see Antoine lying on the bed, far worse than he had been mere hours ago. 

“Antoine?” He exclaimed, putting on his gloves and quickening his pace. “That same kid jump you again?” 

“No.” The boy said in a low groan.

“Was it somebody else from school?” Carter asked as he put on his stethoscope. 

“No, it was the same dude. I jumped him.”

“What? The kid from this morning? You went after him?” 

“He took my wallet, man. I can't be letting that go down.”

Carter shook his head as disappointment coursed through his body. “Why not? What did you lose? Ten, fifteen bucks?”

“He sounds like my mom.” Antoine chuckled, looking at Chuny. 

“BP's 128/74. Pulse 96.” Chuny said, looking from the boy to the doctor. 

“You got any pain in your belly? Did you get kicked or punched in the stomach?”

“No, he only got me in the face.” 

Carter sighed and put his stethoscope back around his neck. He looked down and gently pressed on the boy’s hands, which were bandaged and splinted. “Looks like a Colles with dorsal angulation.” He told Chuny as Antoine whined in pain. “It’s gonna need a closed reduction.” He moved to the other side. 

“What's that?”

“It means you broke your left wrist. Can you feel this?” He asked as he palpated the other hand. 

“Yeah.” He whined, wincing in pain again. 

“What kind of sutures do you want?” Chuny asked. 

“5-O Vicryl, 6-O nylon.”

“I gotta have stitches?” 

“Fifth metacarpal fracture with rotational deformity. You broke both your hands.” He sighed again. “Let's get an orbital series. Left hand, right wrist. Call Ortho. That one’s gonna have to be pinned in the O.R.” He grabbed his pen light and checked his pupils. 

“I gotta have an operation?”

“That's right. Well, you wanted to blow off your interview.”

“I can go in a few days.”

Carter scoffed and returned the light to his pocket. “You're not getting into any summer science lab. Not now.” He grabbed the chart from Chuny. “You have to go to surgery, have a pin put into your right hand. Then you'll get a cast that goes from your elbow all the way to your fingers.”

“I can still go to class.” 

“It's a hands-on program, Antoine. You not gonna have use of your hands. You not gonna be able to dress yourself. You’re not gonna be able to tie your own shoe or blow your own nose for the next six weeks.”

“Well, it's not your problem.”

“No?!” Carter exclaimed, fully angry now. “I’m the one that’s been spending time with you and showing you around for the last month. Just trying to teach you something, you know?  So you can go and screw it up by having to go beat down some punk in the neighborhood.”

“Carter.” Chuny warned. 

“You don't know about it!”  “I know it just dragged you away from the best opportunity you've ever been given.  

“No one gave me anything. I earned that chance myself!”

“You just blew it, all by yourself.”

“Dr. Carter!” 

“Yes, Chuny?” He looked up and removed his gloves before turning to leave the room.

“Carter, you were pretty hard on that kid.” Chuny said, having followed him to the hall.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I know. I just expected better of him.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were his dad.”

Carter turned. “What?”

Chuny bit her lip. “I was just saying that you were being very paternal with him.” 

“Uh, yeah. Whatever. Don’t forget to call Ortho.” He shook his head and walked away.

He really needed to make a phone call. 

The shrill ring of the phone, once again, caused me to let out an exasperated groan. I paused my tape and reached over the arm of the couch and brought the phone to my ear. “If someone else from that ER calls me today, I swear I’m going to come down there and give them something to call about.” 

“Hello to you too.” 

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Hi Carter.” 

“Everything okay?” 

“I have received calls from Chuny and Haleh, all trying to get me to confirm, without actually asking, my pregnancy.” 

“Yeah, they’ve been bothering me too. But I haven’t said anything, I swear.” 

“It’s alright. They all know. They would just rather get confirmation for the gossip mill from the source.” 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Your kid’s trying to kill me.” I said, gently stroking my stomach. 

“My kid? So, it’s just my kid now?” 

“Yes, it’s your kid when they are making me expel my guts.” 

“Do you want me to bring you something when I get off? Craving anything?” 

“Drugs. All the drugs to keep me from throwing up.” 

“I’m not an OB so I really would rather not prescribe you meds.” 

“Whatever.” I sighed and rubbed my stomach. “Maybe some more crackers. Ooh, or maybe some peaches? But not the whole fruit kind. Like the kind that comes in the little cups.” Carter laughed on the other end of the phone. “What’s so funny?” 

“I used to be obsessed with those when I was a kid.”

“See I told you, your kid. If you don’t bring them, they will get angry.” 

“Noted.” He paused. “Any bleeding today?” 

“I had some really light spotting when I woke up. But I called Coburn’s office and she said that was normal. As long as it’s doesn’t get like it was and I’m not in pain, it should be okay. And I’ve been fine the rest of the day.” 

Carter hummed on the other end. “Well take it easy. Watch your soaps and get some rest. I’ll see you after my shift.” 

“Don’t let the nurses hound you too much.” 

“I won’t. See you later.” 

“Bye.”

 

For once, Carter was glad Evie wasn’t at work. He’d lost his cool, more than once on Antoine and Lucy. He knew she would be on their side; tell him he was being too harsh and to actually listen to them and what they were saying. And the more he thought about her, the more he knew she would be right. God, she had hold of him even while she was gone. He was done for. 

Mark told him they all had a big surprise planned for Carol, who surprise, was also pregnant. He wondered if Evie knew. It was going to be at the end of her shift, but before the celebration, he wanted to go upstairs and check on Antoine before his surgery. When he got there, the kid was laying on a gurney with an IV and in a hospital gown, ready to be wheeled in. 

“So, is your mom more or less pissed off than I imagine she is?” Carter asked as he sat beside the bed. 

“That’d be more or less than you?”

“That's fair.” Carter sighed. 

“She’s acting like I'll never play the violin again.” He joked.

Carter chuckled. “That's pretty funny.”

“I heard it in a stupid TV movie.”

“Why are you doing watching TV when you got homework?”

“Oh, man! You are my mom.” Antoine laughed. 

“I don't know about that.”

“You are. I feel bad for your kid.”

Carter raised an eyebrow. “How do you know about that?” 

“My mom told me. I’m guessing Nurse Monroe is the mom?”

Carter nodded. “You know Antoine, I think I want the best for you. But I suspect that she does a better job of appreciating you for who you are.”

“As long as I grow up to be just like her.”

“I know that routine. My family wanted me to grow up to be a rich, white guy.”

“Damn, they must be dancing!” The doors to the room opened and the surgical team were ready to go. 

“You don't make that kind of money in emergency medicine. I think they figured they'd settle on two out of three.”

“I wish I hadn’t blown that summer thing, Dr. Carter.” Antoine said as the team began wheeling him towards the operating room. 

“You'll get another chance.”

“I mean now I'll be spending my time bagging groceries.”

“Actually, I'm not even sure you’re gonna be doing that.” He scoffed. “I’ll come check on you in the morning, okay?”

“Sounds good.” Antoine said, before disappearing into the operating room. 

Carter nodded, rubbing a hand over his face, before turning and going for the elevator. By the time he got back downstairs, everyone was already gathering in the ambulance bay. He quickly grabbed his coat and bag before headed to join everyone, a plastic cup of what he only assumed was champagne thrust into his hand. A few minutes later, Carol walked out.

“Surprise!” They all yelled. 

“Oh, man.” Carol groaned. “What are you doing?”

“We know you haven’t officially told us about the baby.” Haleh began. 

“But we couldn’t sit on it another darn minute.” Connie finished. 

“We just wanted you to know how happy we are.” 

“And we’re gonna get you something better—” This time it was Lydia.

“But for now.” Chuny finished, bringing out two large boxes of diapers and handing them to Carol. 

“Oh man! God!” Carol exclaimed, smiling. 

“Hey Carol, need a Lamaze coach?” Malik asked.

“You’re it, Malik. Oh, this is amazing. I, uh, I’ve just been overwhelmed with this news myself. And uh, today I found out I’m-I’m having twins. So, um, I didn’t know when or how to tell people and I’m, I’m really glad that I can share this with you now. So, thank you.” 

“Congratulations, Carol.” Carter said and walked over to hug her.

“Hold on!” Haleh exclaimed. He turned from Carol and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think we forgot about you.” Chuny came back with another stack of diapers and placed them in front of him. Most everyone else in the group was confused, but Haleh had her eyebrow raised to him, daring him not to come clean. Carter sighed and shook his head. Evie was going to kill him. 

“Uh, yeah. Uh, Evie and I are having a baby.” The crowd of ER workers began buzzing around them. “But, hey, look. It’s really early and there’s been a complication. That’s why she’s not going to be working for the next couple of weeks. But we’re hoping everything is going to be okay and she can come back soon.” 

And as members of the group came up and congratulated them both, he really did hope it would be soon. But right now, he just wanted to go home to her. 

Carter opened the door to Evie’s apartment, sliding the stacked boxes inside, before closing the door behind him. She hadn’t called after their last conversation, so he hoped she had taken it easy the rest of the day and was okay. He looked around the apartment and his eyes fell on the figure on the couch, curled up into the cushions and barely covered by a blanket. He smiled at how peaceful and sweet she looked. 

Walking over to the couch, he placed the carton of fruit on the table and grabbed the blanket. He pulled it up to her neck, just like she liked it, so she could be cozy. He grabbed the remote, chuckling at the movie on screen, something about skating, and flipped through the channels, settling on some random game before he sat down beside her. If the sleeve of crackers, half eaten toast, and ginger ale on the coffee table was any indication, her nausea hadn’t settled. He stroked her face, glad that she had at least been able to sleep. 

“Hi.” A small voice mumbled. Her eyes were still closed, but Evie grabbed her blanket and pulled it tighter around her. 

“Hi. How are you?” 

“I’m okay. Haven’t thrown up in a while, so I guess that’s good.” 

“You should have told me. I could have brought a banana bag home.” 

“Maybe tomorrow.” Evie’s eyes slowly opened, and she looked up at him, smiling. “How was work?” 

“Remember that student I was mentoring? Antoine?” She nodded her head. “He got jumped today. And then he thought it was smart to go beat up the kid who did it to him, breaking his hands and missing the interview I set up for him in the process.” Carter shook his head and looked around the room. “I can’t believe he did that. And then Lucy told me she’s back on her Ritalin, even though it’s a drug used for children.” Evie chuckled and snuggled under the blanket again. Carter raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You already sound like a disappointed dad.” 

Carter rolled his eyes. “Chuny said the same thing. The only thing I’m disappointed in with our kid is that they are making you not eat. Maybe we can remedy that.” He leaned forward and grabbed the carton off the table, handing it to her. Her sleepy smile widened as she held the fruit cups like they were the most precious thing ever. 

“God, this is the first thing to seem even remotely appetizing today.”

“I’ll get you a spoon.” Carter stood and went over to the kitchen, easily finding the utensil drawer.  

“What is that?” 

Carter’s eyes fell on the giant diaper box by the door. “From the ER. Congratulations on our new addition. The news is officially out. They even got one for Carol too.” He handed the spoon to her as she opened the carton. “Did you know she was pregnant?” 

Evie peeled the plastic cover off and dove in, a pleased moan escaping her lips. “That was nice of them. And of course, she’s my mentor.” 

“Did you know it was twins?” 

“Better her than me.” 

“You never know. Severe nausea could mean higher hCG. Higher levels mean twins.” 

“Bite your tongue, John Truman Carter.” She said, pointing her spoon at him. “If I end up having twins, I’m castrating you myself.” She took another bite. 

“Not to be controlling, but maybe slow down. I’d rather not see you throw up the first time you’ve had something other than crackers today.”

She rolled her eyes at him but took what he said to heart and slowed down. She turned her attention to the TV. “Who’s playing?” 

“Uh, not sure. I just turned it on.” 

Evie sighed and put her head on Carter’s shoulder. “Want a bite?” 

Carter chuckled. “Sure.” Evie feed him a spoonful of peaches. “It’s okay.” He shrugged. “Not as good as I remember.” 

“Well, it’s heaven to me. Thank for bringing it by.” 

“Where else would I be?” 

[themandylion]

Every once in a while I'm reminded that not everyone has read Booster Gold (2007) and thus aren't familiar with the fact that Batman is the only* Post-Crisis hero who truly believes Booster is a True Hero.

So today I'm going to educate you!

I can't really talk about Booster/Michael Carter prior to Ted Kord's death (because I haven't read those comics). I don't know about his earlier solo series or any team-ups he was in before the 2007 series, aside from when he kidnapped Jaime during Infinite Crisis to help take down Brother Eye. But I did read his 2007 solo (it's good, there's a lot of interesting stuff that happens in it), and the part that always stuck with me was when he kept the Joker from shooting Barbara Gordon.

If you don't remember that happening, that would be because he failed. But not for the reason that most people might think, considering Booster's reputation as a joke, only in the hero-ing game for fame and fortune.

See, the premise of the 2007 Booster Gold series is that he gets recruited by Rip Hunter to correct problems in the timeline. There's an entire thing going on where a group of villains are deliberately causing disruptions for their own personal reasons, but we're not here to talk about that! Because before Booster could really get into the swing of fixing the timeline, he first had to learn why. Why it was so important that he do this, but also why it was that these schmucks could successfully make changes but he couldn't save Ted?

Early on (issue #5, as it happens), Rip tells Booster there's an abnormal wormhole in Gotham on the night Joker shot Barbara Gordon—something that was never supposed to happen! He tasks Booster with reversing this. It, well. It doesn't go well.

Booster: Send me back. I need to try again. Rip: You've lost a lot of blood-- Booster: Now, dammit!

He failed to stop the Joker from shooting Barbara and got beat up in the process—Joker even grabbed Skeets and beat Booster with it at one point! Booster bruised and battered and all around not having a good time. But nonetheless, he's is determined to try again.

So he does. Over and over and over again. He gets electrocuted, bashed into a window, shot—these are the tries that are shown in the comic but it could very well have been that he tried even more and there just wasn't space to show it. Each time he fails and returns, he's demanding to go back again before Rip even finishes patching him up.

Finally, Rip tells him he needs to stop. He confesses there was never an abnormal wormhole at this event. Joker is always going to win, Barbara is always going to end up paralyzed. It's a solidified moment in time, something that can never be changed—just like Ted's death.

Booster: Damn it, I can do it! Rip: You'd only die trying to save her. I'm sorry.

Things get a bit physical—Booster shoves Rip, shouts at him. Gets ready to abandon this whole mission since the main reason he went along with it in the first place was the possibility of saving Ted. This being comics, some stuff happens next that stops him from giving up, and we're left to believe that Rip was correct when he told Booster that, "Anything from the present on back cannot be changed."

However, as later issues will prove, this simply isn't true. Why? Because of this whole mess that was never a real mission and only ever happened in order to teach Booster a lesson about inevitability. In fact, as we find out in issue #1,000,000 (which is really like... issue 11 but also issue 12 because DC was doing some weird stuff with number in the 2000s—there's an issue 0 between 6 and 7 similar to how issue 1 million comes between 10 and 11) Booster trying to save Barbara did change something. Just not what he expected.

In issue 1 million, Batman summons Booster to the Bat Cave, pulling him out of an awkward confrontation with Green Arrow (Ollie) and Green Lantern (Hal). There's some back and forth—Booster assumes Bruce wants to chew him out for being a screw-up (he's already feeling down and on the outs with Rip again). Instead of saying anything, Batman throws a bunch of photographs at Booster.

Photographs from the camera Joker was wearing when he shot Barbara. Mostly of her looking awful... but also of Booster, broken and bloody and horrible. Batman reveals he's held onto these photos for years—waiting until Booster was wearing a suit that matched the one he had on in the photos. Waiting until he was grown up enough to explain how he was there that night.

Booster can't explain everything—part of being a time agent means you can't tell people you're a time agent (in fact, him being a joke hero is actually part of his cover). But this wasn't actually a time agent mission, so he says he tried to save her, but he couldn't. He tried over and over again, but all he did was fail, because he's a joke.

Batman: A joke? Batman: I don't know what you're up to, but I can see the pain and punishment you took from the Joker. Batman: You were literally tortured. You risked your life for a chance she might walk again.

He goes on to give Booster a genuine pep talk, telling him it's fine if the rest of the world thinks he's crazy if that's what it takes to be the best he can be. That Booster has proven himself not only to Batman, but also to himself. And then they shake hands and it's super-duper touching and I'll be honest, it's very, very hard for me to not just stick whole pages in here. This bit always gets me choked up and emotional. (He offers to listen to Booster the way Ted used to! He tells him to keep up the good work!!)

Anyway. More people should write about how Batman is the only* hero in the Post-Crisis/Pre-Flashpoint continuity who believes in Booster Gold and has absolute faith in him.

*Caveat that Jaime Reyes and a handful of others are also aware of some of what Booster is up to during this period, but most of those other heroes are actively involved in time shenanigans with him.

[novelmonger]

Why Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter are perfect for each other*

*With caveats: 1) a large portion of Sharon's personality and backstory I'll reference are my own creation, because the MCU keeps on forgetting she exists; 2) F&WS!Sharon is not the real Sharon but is a Skrull or comes from another dimension or something; and 3) the Steve who dances with Peggy at the end of Endgame is not the Steve I'm talking about. If any of this is confusing, please feel free to ask!

For starters, they're clearly attracted to each other, and it seems obvious they're interested in pursuing their relationship, which is more than I can say for some people that get shipped with Steve.

While attracted to each other, they don't let that get in the way of doing their job or fulfilling their responsibilities.

They have the same/similar sense of morals/justice (noticing something fishy about S.H.I.E.L.D. and standing up against it; breaking the law to save an innocent man's life).

The kind of person Steve needs in a partner (romantic or otherwise) is someone with compassion who will also challenge him when needed and not just crumble when the going gets tough. Sharon is usually gentle and kind, but she also doesn't take any crap and isn't afraid to speak up when it's necessary.

Steve has a tendency to not ask for help and try to do everything himself, because there have been so many times when there was no one to turn to, or he felt he had to prove he could do it when no one said he could. But Sharon doesn't wait to be asked for help. If she sees something that needs to be done, she takes the initiative and dives right in. That will be so important to their relationship, because Sharon won't let Steve do everything alone.

Steve's love language is Acts of Service, and Sharon has always struck me as the kind of person who would step up and help out as soon as she sees a need. Sharon's love language is Words of Affirmation, and Steve is surprisingly good at finding the right words to say to both inspire, and make someone feel good about themselves.

Sharon always interacts with Steve as Steve first, Captain America second. She doesn't fawn over him or expect him to be perfect, she doesn't pat herself on the back for managing to catch the eye of the world's first superhero. She just sees him for what he is: a man. That's got to be pretty rare for Steve, and would make her even more attractive to him.

What Sharon needs most in a partner is someone she can trust. Someone she can let her guard down around, who will be honest with her so they don't have to play guessing games. And Steve is as honest as they come. He's bad at lying, and he's always just himself around her, so any problems that arise are out in the open and they can work through them together.

Steve's first love was Peggy, and Sharon was really close to Peggy. Not only would she have heard lots of stories of what Steve is like, but she also would have been influenced by Peggy. Peggy is one of Sharon's most important role models, so the person that she wants to become (and is already well on her way to becoming) is exactly the sort of person Steve is looking for in the first place. No, they're not the same, and I don't think Steve would ever expect her to be. But the strength and kindness he admired in Peggy is also present in Sharon.

Steve and Sharon are both the kind of people who, once they make a commitment to someone, will not abandon them. This is perhaps the most important thing for a couple, because at the end of the day, no matter how compatible you are, no matter how "in love" you are or how much "chemistry" you have, what matters when the rubber meets the road is commitment. And Steve and Sharon are the kind of people who will put in the effort to make it work even when it's hard, even when other things change. Even when they both grow old and ugly and weak, they will be there for each other.

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴄʜ. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The problem? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, reader wears lipstick, heels, and a dress, insecurity on Bucky's part, brief allusion to disordered eating (Bucky), mentions of Bucky not doing so well, mentions of Bucky's trauma in general, and Bucky is probably written wrong. (Trying my best lmao)

||Part 2|| Part 3 || Part 4

[Series Masterlist]

---------------------------------------------

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

🄳🄰🅈 2, 🄰🄵🅃🄴🅁🄽🄾🄾🄽

It had been easy to find a store selling dresses made to look like they were from the 1940's. The Brandon Center, the little store that could only be found in Brandon Briar, had an overwhelming amount of them. You'd left Bucky to find whatever he needed, you instead opting to browse through all the pretty dresses. There was a large selection, filled with pretty prints and colors.

Bucky, perhaps ten minutes ago, had interrupted your browsing to tell you that he was going to wait in the car. You had simply nodded, quickly glancing at the bag he carried.

A stunning red dress caught your eye. It had a little belt to go around your waist, with 3/4 satin-cuffed sleeves and a matching satin heart-shaped collar.

Sure, there were other dresses in a similar color, but once you saw this one, there was no going back. You checked the tag, making sure that it would fit.

Grinning once you saw that it did, you took the hanger off the rack before looking through the jewelry stand. When you found nothing that fit your style, you sighed. You walked to the register, and you were greeted by a woman, probably in her sixties. Her hair was dyed blonde, which looked good with her blue eyes. She wore black eyeliner all the way around her eye, with thick mascara to match. She grinned, a heavy country accent coming in thick when she spoke. Though you'd only spoken to a few locals, they all seemed to have the same accent.

"Hiya! Will this be all for you today?" She had a nametag on her floral blouse. Brenda.

You nod. "Yes."

"Okay. Oh..this is a pretty thing. You plannin' on comin' out by the old diner for the dance tonight?" She laid the dress out on the counter, examining it.

"Yeah. It's..it's in that little square, right? I saw the string lights this morning when I was driving by, but I didn't really have time to look."

"Yes, yes. The decorations are always gorgeous. Wait a minute..oh, this is from Mr. Lee." She said, beginning to fold the dress. When she noticed your confused expression, she grinned.

"A while back, we had a guy donate a bunch of old dresses like this after his wife passed. His wife was friends with Peggy Carter, funnily enough. Anyway, we kept a bunch of those dresses in the back for a few years. Forgot all about them. Until now, that is."

You nodded, though the mention of Steve's almost-kind-of-basically girlfriend startled you. A younger girl, maybe a college student, stepped out from the door next to the register. The creaky wooden floor announced the presence of another customer, as did the bell on the door.

"Aunt Brenda, can you help Ms. Owens? She wanted to look at that green dress I told you about." The girl said. Her hair was brown and straight, going down to her waist.

"Oh, yes." Brenda turned back to you. "Stacy will ring you up." She explained, placing the folded dress into a white paper shopping bag.

She walked out from behind the counter, Stacy taking her place.

"Sorry about that." She apologized. "That'll be $23.99. Hero's discount."

When she glanced up to you, she smiled a little. "Don't worry. You blend in a lot. Most of the people here are older, and anyone who isn't is just a young couple coming here for the festival. My great aunt and my grandma live up here, so I stay here every summer to help with the store." She assured.

Once you paid, she waved you goodbye as you walked out of the shop. Bucky was waiting in the driver's seat of the truck, scrolling on his phone.

"Y'know it starts at 6:00, right?" He asked when he heard the truck door open.

"It's 3:15, we'll be fine." You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt. You didn't say much on the drive to the hotel, instead thinking about what else you were going to wear.

--------------

Bucky stood inside of his hotel room, not sure what to do. You had decided to close your door to his room, and he decided to do the same.

He showered quickly, before getting dressed. He felt stupid as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He knew how he was supposed to look, but none of this felt...right. He tied his hair into a low ponytail, just to keep it out of his face.

He opened his door to your room, just to be met with your door closed. He knew it was going to be closed. Of course it would be closed. There was no reason he should feel so...disappointed.

Disappointed? No. No. Bucky was sure of it. He barely tolerated you. You were annoying, and you liked starting fights for no reason.

But he couldn't deny the feeling of excitement he got when he saw your name light up on his phone.

Ready. That was the entire text message. And somehow, a single word made his stomach feel light. Without typing a reply, he stepped into the hallway of the hotel, before he saw you.

--------------

"You look..fine." You mumble, refusing to say what you really meant: hot.

He nods awkwardly, before tilting his head towards the elevator. Nodding, you walk with him to the elevator, and you try and study his expressions as you wait to get to the first floor.

He looked lost in thought. Shit. That was never good. If he wasn't talking, whether that meant exchanging insults with you and Sam or marveling at modern technology with Steve, he was lost in his head.

One thing you'd noticed about him since he'd moved into the Compound was that he was getting better. Better, in the sense that he wasn't staying holed up in his assigned bedroom pretending that the world didn't exist. Better in the sense that he was talking to people now. Better in the sense that he wasn't waking up violent or screaming in the middle of the night. Yeah, sure, he's a petty asshole who's extremely good at pissing you off, but even semi-joking insults are better than eerie silence and pure fear of the outside world.

When he'd arrived at the Compound, he'd avoided everyone, even Steve. He didn't speak, barely acknowledged people unless he had to. He didn't eat. He could barely sleep. It was like he was a ghost. The first time Peter came over while Bucky was around, Bucky seemed to have shut down a little. Peter was a good kid. He stayed over in his room during weekends, or even occasionally during weekdays in the summer. He didn't ask intrusive questions, and he really did try his best to make Bucky feel welcome. But it really just terrified Bucky.

After a few months of court-mandated therapy, which slowly evolved from twice a week to once every two months throughout the span of a year, he seemed to recover. He slowly learned to get out of those post-HYDRA habits he'd picked up. He'd eat with the rest of the team. He'd join in on weekly movie nights. He'd even help Wanda when she cooked for the monthly 'nice-family-dinner' days. She always loved making the food for those. He started watching baking shows with Vision. He'd hang out with Natasha. He pestered Steve in a way only a best friend ever could. He made jokes. The first time you ever heard the former brainwashed assassin make a joke will be forever ingrained into your mind. It had been some stupid joke about Steve's old costume, and it had shocked everyone in the room. Except for Steve.

He only went silent like this on particularly bad days. Nobody ever said anything, because they knew that would only make it worse, but it was obvious whenever something rough went down. 'Bad days' meant days that followed nightmare-filled nights, or days that involved flashbacks or recovering from flashbacks, or days that were ruined by something triggering him.

"You good there?" You decide to speak up, just as the elevator door opens.

He nodded quickly, beginning to walk to the truck. He hops into the driver's seat, and you don't fight him on it.

"We're a bit late." You note, glancing at the time. 6:13pm. Technically, it started at 6:00pm and ended at 10:45pm.

"Holy shit." You say aloud, looking through Bucky's window at the beautiful decorations. There were string lights strung from light posts, and hay bales for some reason, and other cute things. There was a little stage set up, with a small band playing vintage songs. There were little stands set up where you could buy food or random 1940's themed shit.

"You ready?" You looked to Bucky, before checking in the mirror to make sure the red lipstick you'd applied hadn't smudged.

He nodded, parking the truck against the sidewalk. He waited for you to walk around the front of the vehicle to join him.

"I'll grab us some dinner. You up for this? We can always go back--"

"I'm fine." He said, and at first you thought that he was getting annoyed at you, before a quick glance to his face assured you that he was just trying to convince himself of this. "I'm fine." He repeated.

The air was warm, and the yellow light of the string lights combined with the street lights made Bucky look..really nice.

"Ooh! That place looks good. C'mon!" You grabbed his hand, pulling him forward.

---------------------------------------------

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp

[theveiledstream]

Chapter 29:

Undercurrents

Elena had been on high alert ever since that night with Mira.

Not because of anything Mira had done, exactly.

No, the real problem—the thing keeping her awake at night, the thing making her stomach flip and her chest ache—was her own brain.

It wouldn’t shut up.

Wouldn’t stop replaying every single moment between them.

The soft brush of Mira’s fingers against her skin.

The way her voice had dipped just so when she said, I see you.

The way her eyes had lingered—too long, too much—like she was suddenly realizing something Elena couldn’t afford to think about.

And worst of all—

The way Elena had liked it.

No, loved it.

Which meant she was screwed.

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She was spiraling.

She knew she was spiraling, but knowing didn’t stop it.

Because what was she even supposed to do?

She was transitioning.

She was still figuring herself out.

How could she even think about romance when she hadn’t even settled into her own skin yet?

How could she expect someone—Mira, of all people—to look at her that way and actually mean it?

What if she wasn’t enough?

What if—

What if it was pity?

What if Mira was just being kind?

The thought burned.

She had spent so long just fighting to exist.

Wanting more than that—wanting to be wanted—felt impossible.

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She had barely spoken to Mira since the night at the patio.

Not because Mira was acting weird—because she wasn’t.

Mira was acting normal, texting her memes, sending her stupid voice messages, showing up at her locker with an extra drink from the vending machine like she always did.

She hadn’t changed at all.

Which made Elena’s reaction even more humiliating.

Because she, meanwhile, had turned into an absolute wreck.

The second Mira so much as smiled at her, Elena felt like her whole nervous system short-circuited.

She kept overanalyzing everything, convinced she had misread the moment, convinced she was delusional.

Because what if she was wrong?

What if Mira didn’t actually feel anything for her?

What if she was setting herself up for disappointment?

What if she ruined everything?

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At therapy, she danced around it.

She hadn’t meant to, but when Dr. Caldwell asked how she was doing, she found herself dodging the subject entirely.

She talked about school.

She talked about her parents, the latest neutral-but-icy conversation at home.

She even talked about Ryan Carter, the ignorant classmate who had sent her searching for a therapist in the first place.

But she didn’t talk about Mira.

Because saying it out loud would make it real.

And Elena wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

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She wasn’t eating properly.

Wasn’t sleeping properly, either.

She kept lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything.

What if this new version of herself was still missing something essential?

She hadn’t let herself want things before.

And now, all at once, she was feeling too much, too fast, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

Because she wanted.

She wanted.

And that terrified her.

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At school, she almost got through the day without incident.

Almost.

Until lunch, when she was heading toward her usual spot, and Mira—sitting on the bench waiting for her—turned and smiled.

Not just any smile.

The kind of smile that felt like warmth itself.

The kind of smile that made Elena’s stomach drop to her feet.

And before she could even process it—

She panicked.

Hard.

She pivoted on her heel and walked in the other direction.

Not subtle. Not smooth.

Just full-blown lesbian panic in real time.

She could feel Mira watching her retreat, but she didn’t turn back.

She couldn’t.

Not when her chest felt too tight and her thoughts were too loud.

She barely made it into the bathroom before she had to brace her hands against the sink, sucking in a shaky breath.

She was not handling this well.

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The rest of the day passed in a haze.

She felt off. Disconnected.

She just needed to think.

To figure out how to make these feelings stop devouring her from the inside out.

When the final bell rang, she didn’t even bother going to her locker.

She just left.

Head down. Earbuds in.

She needed air.

She needed time.

She needed—

“Hey.”

Elena froze.

Her stomach flipped dangerously.

She knew that voice.

She knew it too well.

Slowly, she turned.

Mira stood there, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, watching her way too closely.

Elena’s heart wasn’t ready for this.

“Thought you were avoiding me for a second there,” Mira said lightly.

Elena forced a laugh. “Pfft. No. I just—”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “You literally ran at lunch.”

Elena died inside.

She groaned, pressing her fingers against her temples. “Oh my God, Mira.”

Mira laughed. “Okay, okay. I won’t give you a hard time about it.”

She tilted her head, expression softening. “But… are you okay?”

Elena was not okay.

Her brain was short-circuiting just looking at her.

The wind was catching in Mira’s hair, the setting sun painting her in warm, golden light, and holy shit, this was not helping.

Mira was too close, too pretty, too much.

And Elena was falling apart.

“I’m fine,” Elena said, way too fast.

Mira narrowed her eyes. “Hmm.”

Elena panicked harder. “I have to go.”

She turned, again, because apparently, that was her default move now—

But before she could get far—

Mira caught her wrist.

Not tightly. Not forcefully.

Just enough to stop her.

Enough to make Elena’s world tilt on its axis.

“Elena.”

The way Mira said her name—quiet, certain, searching—sent a shiver down her spine.

Elena’s breath hitched.

And then—

Mira stepped closer.

Not in the casual way she always did. Not in the best friend way.

This was different.

This was intentional.

Elena could feel the warmth of her, the barely-there space between them.

And Mira—Mira was looking at her like she was memorizing her.

Like she was thinking about something she wasn’t sure she was allowed to have.

Elena’s pulse roared in her ears.

Oh.

Oh, she was in trouble.

Mira’s gaze flickered—down.

To her lips.

Just for a second.

Elena felt like she had stopped breathing entirely.

Mira could kiss her right now.

She could just—

And then—

She didn’t.

Instead, Mira smirked.

Soft. Slow.

Like she knew.

Like she had figured something out.

And then she let go.

Elena barely managed to stay standing.

Mira took a step back, her hands slipping into her jacket pockets.

“See you tomorrow, superstar.”

And then, just like that, she walked away.

Elena stood frozen.

Her skin still burned where Mira had touched her.

Her thoughts were shattered glass.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

She just didn’t know when it would happen.

But oh, she wanted it to happen.

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[falcatas]

Rate your OC: Garrett Hawke (the purple one)

Ok, lets continue with Hawk.

Garrett Hawke (the Champion/disaster of Kirkwall)

Yes. Exactly. The default Garrett Hawke. No modifications here. No creativity at all.

Compassion: 6/10. According to Hawke you can try to be compassionate and then life punches you right in the middle of the face. 

Bitterness: 6/10. Always in sarcasm.

Happiness: 6/10. Always in sarcasm also. 

Politeness: 7/10. It’s not that he is very polite, but since he is ironic all the time, some dorks don’t even realize whenever he is putting on a show for them. Besides, humour can light the darkest tavern in Thedas and can help find the way out of the most fortified dungeon. 

Chivalry: 7/10. He doesn’t intend to be chivalrous… it’s just that the maggots around him usually don’t even meet the basic standards. 

Pride: 7/10. He is as proud as he can be considering his circumstances. He never will tell others when he is suffering.. 

Honesty: 7/10. He is pretty honest to others… sometimes indirectly through sarcasm… But he is not honest with himself and pretends not to care about people and things he deeply cares for. Garrett fears that if he opens up about his feelings and fears he will only be hurt. 

Love: 10/10: he loves Anders, he knows that (and knows he is already lost), and he was able to lower himself when the difficult decision came. He loves Bethany and loved Carter, his mother and father, even when his mother didn’t love him back. He likes Varric and Aveline a lot. The Inquisitor and her cause were deeply meaningful to him (a chance to bring real, good order to the world) that Garrett sacrificed himself in the Fade for that Hope. 

Bravery: 9/10. He tries, but sometimes falters. 

Recklessness: 4/10. He can be careless when emotionally involved. Maybe he puts some things off and that means future problems for sure. Some threads will always remain loose…

Ambition: 8/10. Enough to have a peaceful life… but it rarely happens. Once you gain some fame you inevitably get dragged into other people’s confrontations.

Loyalty: 7/10 but it’s 1000000/10 with Anders, Varric and even the Inquisitor. Garrett hates it but he can’t help it. 

Sense of family: 9/10, especially when it comes to Anders. His family story shaped him. When Cullen took Bethany away, Hawke almost succumbs to his desire to kill him, even though normally there was a rough sense of empathy between him and the templar. Varric convinced him to stay calm. 

Attractiveness: 10/10. Guys, we are talking about Hawke. No further explanation needed.

Agility: 7/10. He is a brutal warrior but strength and constitution are his top qualities in battle. And endurance. Lots. Of. Endurance. 

Sex drive: 100/10 again… we are talking about Hawke. But no need for lots of lovers, he is not a playboy. Give him a cute apostate husband and he will be happy and loyal for eternity.

[geneeste]

@starrybouquet tagged me in the last lines meme, which I think is to post the last lines I’ve written? Haha.

I can’t really post the true last lines, because they’re smutty, so you’ll get the second best ones!

When he turns back to face her, her eyes are wide, clearly starting to clue into the fact that something's up. "What's going on, sir?" He'd really like her to stop calling him that. "I had a chat with Dad while we were doing recon on the Jaffa." She sits up a little straighter, and when she speaks there's a note of alarm in her voice. "About what?" Here goes nothing. "About when we were mistaken for zat'arcs. He knows about us." "There is no us," she says, but it comes out half-strangled. "Yeah, believe me, I tried that argument. But seeing as the machine apparently recorded everything, that’s not exactly going to work anymore, is it?" She presses her hands to her face. "Oh my god." The words are muffled, so he can't tell if she's mortified or angry. "Carter-" He stops talking when she gets up, walks around to the back of the couch, and starts pacing. He still can't get a good look at her face when she demands, "What did he say, exactly?" Well, at least she's not calling him sir anymore. "Oh, just that he knew we had feelings for each other. And then he basically called me a coward." She stops short at that, turning toward him, face flushed. "I'm so sorry. That was incredibly out of line," she says, resuming her pacing. "I'll talk to him the next time he's on Earth and get him to apologize and promise never to-" "Carter, he was right." She halts again, practically gapes at him. If they were talking about anything else, he might laugh at the fact that, for once, he'd confounded her. "We need to talk about this." She sucks in a breath. "I don't know how to talk about this with you." Hearing that hurts a little, because it’s a reminder of the damage the silence between them has done. "Don't you think that's a problem?" "It's never been before!" And that might have hurt more if not for the tremor in her voice, and for some reason that calms him.

I’ll zero-pressure, only do it if you wanna tag @sharim28, @mylittleredgirl, @pepperf, @missparker, and @anretc and anyone else who gets the bug to!

[tilda-rothery]

My watch of Star Trek: Prodigy and the dynamic between Janeway and Chakotay has got me thinking about Sam and Jack from SG-1. Two completely different franchises that have a set of characters that would absolutely go to the ends of the galaxy to save the other.

I haven't watched all that much Star Trek, I will admit. But I'm getting there, I promise.

I have, however, watched Stargate more times than I can count (though it did end at season 8 for me) and there is an episode where Sam spends months trying to figure out a way to save Jack after he's stranded on an alien planet and Good ol' Dr Frasier (I love her, by far my favourite recurring character, hence why I use the name Rothery) asks Sam if her feelings are a problem because, hello, regulations and you can't have feelings for your CO Sam.

And then there's the time Sam gets stuck in an interstellar cloud, alone on the Prometheus and Jack can't do a whole lot to help her, so he ends up feeling entirely useless and Teal'c talks to him about how there was a time Sam felt very much the same when he was M.I.A once again on a different alien planet than the one mentioned above.

The need to do all that they can to save the other while probably feeling completely and utterly helpless, because where do you start?

And Upgrades people, let's not forget about Upgrades!

There are just so many instances but these are the ones I was reminded of when I watched Prodigy, because for me, the scenes with Janeway desperate to save Chakotay just vibed in a similar way. And yes, I need to watch more Voyager because I don't know the half of it yet.

The only difference in Stargate is that the feelings are acknowledged on screen by Sam and Jack, but we can just leave them in the room, sir if you want and pretend we don't have them, when we totally do. That's cool Carter, let's do that. Alrighty then...

And I forgot where I was going with this, it's late and I'm tired and now I am just rambling and not making any sense...

But I guess my point was who doesn't want someone that would travel through time and space to save your ass because the world is a better place with you in it, all because they love you so goddamn much?

And sure it can be platonic if you want, but with these two pairings it doesn't feel that way to me. But that's just how I feel about...

As a S/J shipper, thank God for Moebius and Threads.

...And I know in these shows there are instances where other crew/team members get equally stuck in stupidly dangerous/life threatening situations that require them to be saved (::cough cough:: Daniel), but it's not quite the same now is it, when there is no yearning present?

[willowmosby]

Listen I told my self that I wasn't going to get invested enough in Person of Interest to talk about here but here I am anyway. It was chugging along being a good background show with Some really fun, if a little trope-y, cop characters and watching Harold Finch and John Reese act kinda gay and stop crime. I'm a big Amy Acker fan ( that's actually why I even started the show) so I wasn't upset about the shift in focus towards Root and Shaw a little bit as I entered season 3.

The problem I have actually run into is fucking season 3 episode 9: The Crossing. It just made me angry at a show's choices in a way I haven't felt in a while - please note I haven't watched past that episode as of writing this but I will eventually do so.

An the assumption that she really is dead( that looked pretty fucking fatal) I will miss Joss Carter a lot but that's not necessarily what made me angry. It seemed to me that the writers knew that the actor wanted out of the show from the start of the season as the whole season 3 arc was a seemingly slow moving suicide. It wasn't poorly written but it was obvious that this was a different type of Joss Carter than season 1 & 2.

No my problem wasn't necessarily her death. It's the "romantic" declarations of the episode. Now before you look back at the start of this and post and think I'm just mad because it wasn't my very unlikely to ever be a cannon ship that got confirmed, well you're only partially right.

Yes I'm a Rinch shipper( if follow my blog at all you've probably put together that I often root if the queer ships) but I genuinely would have been fine resigning myself to fanfiction while they get hopelessly paired up with some unsuspecting women. I understand that's how crime drama TV operates. And you know I actually like John and Zoe as a ship, if they were developed a bit more I think they could've been a lot of fun.

My problem is not that the whole you "saved me from commiting suicide" speech John gives Carter is equally, if not more, applicable to his relationship with Finch. Well, okay my problem is not only that. My problem is where was any of the romantic build up between Carter and John, like literally anything? They work great as narrative foils when Carter was still on the "the law is the only law" train. And they work great as friends as Carter steps more into the "some minor crime for the greater good is okay" camp. But not once did I think " oh these two are about to fall in love". Not even when Shaw asked about it earlier in season 3 did I think the show was going to actually pair them up like this. Now I hear you when you say that there are examples of characters with less chemistry have become couples. It's just, I'm not sure what the narrative gain is here. They had to know they were killing off Carter that same episode and this "revelation" doesn't add anything to the character. If anything it doesn't make sense with the revenge for Cal Becher (Beacher? Beecher?- You know who I'm talking about) angle that the writers have been using all season. And if it's about furthering John's character that's just dumb. I wouldn't consider it fridgeing as I'm pretty sure this is an actor who wants an out of contract situation(feel free to correct me if I'm wrong), but that doesn't excuse it as a narrative choice. John unequivocally cares about Carter and would be upset about her death regardless or romantic inclinations, as would Lionel and Finch. They already have an in on the revenge story line (which is where I assume they are going with this). Why bother with the romance especially when John already has the lost love story in his background. Like what Jessica isn't enough of a dead romance they needed to shoe in Joss as well.

Anyway I also wish this was like a mid season finale not episode like 9. Like bro why are you putting away one of your biggest villains so far and this is only a third of the way in the season.

And I wish that Lionel wasn't just suddenly back in the plot, like I know you have a bigger cast now and I m glad he's here but build the guy up a little bit better please.

I also think the Root in a cage thing is a little weird like I know all of these people are chugging the " the ends justify the means" juice but it still seems like there are other options Finch would choose. ( that being said Root and Finch's conversation about the machine somehow come off like " I had sex with your daughter, and I don't care if you know” which was hilarious to me)

Anyway sorry for the rant thanks for listening and I do hope the show gets back into a groove.

[lighthailstorm]

hater hours #1 :

i feel like it's time for me to show my true form and be a hater. the real ones will stick with me. if i ever have anything pop-culture or k-pop to complain about i will call it "hater hours #" followed by smth random i talked about. and the hashtag will be #everyone is bothering me. cool, ok. let's begin.

since this is my first time being a hater on this here application/website, i will just do some general things/people i dislike.

Taylor Swift

I will give the woman this, she knows how to write a good little tune. And no, I'm not gonna talk about her taking up screen time during football games bcs I don't really care cuz that's not her fault. Where she pisses me off is the nazi shirt incident of 2009, the pollution incident of 2024 & 2025, dating Mat Healy (affectionately known as Mat Healy Rat) who is in fact a racist and then breaking up with him and making a (bad) song with Ice Spice (which is the first time she's collabed with a black female artist) who was coincidentally the one that Mat Healy Rat was being racist to during a podcast. What a gal. So if you're a Taylor Swift fan or a Swifty or whatever, feel free to stick around but I will likely be roasting your queen occasionally.

Chris Rock

I rejoiced when Will Smith slapped this man on that fateful day in 2022. Like why are we booing Will, he was right? Well, maybe he slapped him for the wrong reasons (i couldn't care less about miss. entanglement) but either way it was a good deed. I know we didn't just all forget about the time where he was encouraging Louis CK and Ricky Gervais to say the N-word and the only person who had a problem with it was Jerry Seinfield???? Yeah, I want Will to finish what he started.

Most K-Pop Fans

Some of y'all actually need to touch grass. Like there is no reason for you to know like 9 grown mens heights, full names, birthdays, and weight. Like WHY do you know this and HOW do you know this?? Also, when Felix (of Stray Kids fame) broke his arm, the way some of yall were acting had me thinking that he was like 8 and not a grown 20-smth ur old man. Are they paying you??? I must know.

Most Taylor Swift Fans

Once again, is she paying you??? The songs are catchy, yes - but I remember when you tried to compare that womans performance skills to THE BEYONCÉ. Some of y'all were real silly for that. You know Taylor can't dance and you know she's a better song-writer than she is a singer. Please end this madness. Also the way you guys want to crucify every single man she's ever dated needs to be studied. WHY DO YOU CARE? Y'all should be thanking them really, without them you wouldn't be getting those albums.

Beyoncé Haters

Now this one simply confuses me. I get not vibing with her music or not liking her personality (although I don't know her personality) but you cannot deny that she is talented. You know how I know some of y'all are just racist? Because y'all were sitting there and saying other artists deserved album of the year at the Grammys this year. I don't even like country that much and Cowboy Carter is not my favorite Beyoncé album, but it was definitely miles better than every other nominee (no shade to the other nominees, they were good just not as good). Anyways, I will never understand the hate this woman gets.

The Summer I Turned Pretty (the show)

This show did nothing but piss me off. No one was likeable, especially not Conrad or Belly (btw what stupid names). I think the only one I kinda liked was the brother and even he was annoying. Y'all will really love anyone who is mildly attractive and white (yes, i'm talking to the conrad girls).

Gale Hawthorne of the Hunger Games

Ooooo, when I catch you Gale. He just pisses me off, he did in the books and casting Thor's brother did nothing to help him (that mans face just looks punchable). Oh and also the obvious reason of him being responsible for Prim's death.

Mark Wahlberg

He knows what he did. Literally just look up Mark Wahlberg hate crimes, and I don't even have to explain myself.

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series

Strike one for the name. I unfortunately watched skimmed through the first 2 seasons of this show. And as a true fan of the HSM franchise, I was greatly offended by what I saw. I decided to let it go for a while, but what I cannot forgive is Joshua Bassett butchering every Troy solo he is given. How dare you sing the hit single Scream like that? You disappoint me, Joshua. Also the fact that they decided to anything but sing songs from HSM in this show. Like why are we doing Beauty and the Beast right now??? Don't piss me off. For my own sanity, I'm gonna go back to pretending this show never happened.

Star Wars Movies

Have I seen all of them? No, but I've seen enough. I saw the third one (or not the third one bcs there's so many prequels I have no idea) from the original trilogy, i think? who cares? what i do know is that it was not worth the hype. i would say it's bad cuz it's the 80s but that's not true. there are plenty of 80s movies that are good, some are my favorite movies of all time (ferris bueller's day off, the princess bride, back to the future, etc). this was just straight bad and i think i know why. because NO ONE CAN ACT. mark hammil and harrison ford, i'm looking at you. my dude mark, was trying his hardest to show some ounce of emotion and failed miserably. Harrison, on the other hand, fumbled every single comedic moment he was given. What are y'all star wars fans seeing that i'm not?

[moonfurthetemmie]

Carter

yeah he needs to be unfused. defused, even. split into his base components. gorgeous wings though

made that coat himself, and figured out how to make the stars glow with magic.

his abilities in a balanced state/at equilibrium is probably 60% ‘stage magic’ and 40% hypnotism and trippy illusions to help him draw people into Yighraru’s service. Or just make them do something stupid/weird/unhinged for fun. Probably has recreated the grisly scene that played out when the rings came to Gonzalo and Petruccio’s home village at least once.

The ‘stage magic’ is essentially controlling practical effects as well as other things to add a little pizzazz to costumes/clothes, set pieces, props, so on. That’s probably how he managed to make his coat glow.

Keeps breaking out in mad giggles randomly. Talks to himself. Quite excited about this, though. Gonzalo and Petruccio can never be separated again 🥰

Refers to himself as a singular entity and a plural ‘we’, which can mean ‘Gonzalo and Petruccio,’ or ‘Gonzalo, Petruccio, and Carter’. Even in context, it’s not clear which. It’s not a royal ‘we.’

Fascinated by his new wings. They’re not like Gonzalo’s; even ignoring the color change. How the frick did that happen

also it’s far more obvious that something has a hold of Carter and his mind than it was with Petruccio and Gonzalo as separate entities.

Has several of Gonzalo and Petruccio’s magic-caused marks (more green and blue crackles, more yellow and blue symbols), and has Petruccio’s freckles and Gonzalo’s snake tattoo. They’re just as confused about the tattoo transferring as everyone else is. I just didn’t think it was fair to have him resemble Petruccio so much more

Front of hair is pulled back into a half-ponytail.

Has Petruccio’s rapier and Gonzalo’s dagger. Dual wielding isn’t advised, but it gives him options

I made the coat slightly metallic with the intention of having it look like metallic thread was used, but instead it looks like satin and I’m genuinely thrilled about this

I know I already gave the reasoning for his name, but just to make sure i've covered my bases: I named him after Randolph Carter, who is a recurring character in the Cthulhu Mythos and may or may not be an HP Lovecraft stand-in. It would’ve been Lovecraft, but that’s Obsidian’s canon last name which I can’t say/type that with a straight face, and that’s not very fair to Petruccio, now, is it? anyways thanks mom for having a braincell

He’s both much more stable and significantly more unstable than Entropy

Petruccio and Gonzalo are so incredibly close, and have the same goals, so he has no conflicts there. however they're both batshit insane and he is no better. Worse sometimes, even. No one is quite sure if them becoming one person is better or worse, because on the one hand, now they only have one guy to deal with, but on the other hand, he is…quite a problem.

also hey. fun fact. i was thinking that the reason the rings made the one guy go absolutely ape shit so fast and cause a huge scene is because, worn together, they're far too powerful for a single being. With Petruccio taking one and Gonzalo taking the other, they were able to use them very well.

Carter…since he was already too far down the rabbit hole to get too fucked up too fast, it's not as bad. And he is still technically two guys? But it's still two incredibly powerful cursed artifacts warping one singular mind, so he's not that much more resistant. everyone is absolutely terrified by how much worse he's getting.

Clever, creative, dramatic, and cutthroat. He might actually sacrifice some of his team on stage in public. Possibly even Bella, if he thinks it'd be a good show and/or Yighraru would want her. but bella would probably let him at this point.

If Gonzalo and Petruccio couldn't summon Yighraru, he definitely will. someone help

[hekate1308]

That's All? Easy.

Prompt: That's all? Easy.

Fandom: Father Brown

Pairing: Gen

This was not a situation he had ever believed he would find himself in – again, he might have added, and wasn’t that just ironic – but here they were.

At the kitchen table in the vicarage, talking through the case (this time only with Father Brown and Sid Carter because of the nature of what they’re talking about), even though Tom still did his best to keep the Father from meddling too much (albeit he had been more lenient ever since they got him off the hook for murder – it just seemed right).

But today, this was not about solving the case – at least not really. No, he knew who had done it – it was staring him right in the face – the problem was that Judge Haldeman was a very influential man (once more history repeating itself) – and he could do nothing. He didn’t have enough evidence for a warrant, although he knew exactly what this should and would consist of.

Eva Wallis, the woman he had been having an affair with – it was Tom’s understanding that his wife usually knew and did little to stop her husband, probably because it took his attention away from her – had been found strangled two days ago, and every witness who had seen her in the last week had told them that she had been wearing an expensive necklace she would never have been able to afford lately and been very proud of it. And that was where it got interesting.

Because Haldeman – every knew it – was a cheapskate. The kind of man who demanded he be handed back any change, even if it were only a few pennies, the one who despite his high position never gave to charity, someone who would have taken the clothes off a freezing child’s back if it brought him just a little bit of money.

Which meant that, if the necklace had been a gift – and it must have been, though deep down, Tom found himself wondering if it had not been blackmail, therefore giving him even more of a motive – he would have used the murder to take it back. And again, someone like Haldeman would not be capable of giving something valuable like the necklace away. Which meant he must have it somewhere in his house, most likely. But without a warrant…

“So we need to check out the judge’s mansion and find the necklace? That’s all? Easy” Carter announced because of course he would. It probably would not even be the first time he “checked out” the house in question.

“Yes, and illegal” he snapped.

“While I have to agree Inspector” Father Brown said, “It is something to break into a house and another to let a murderer roam free. If someone can strangle someone in cold blood once, there is no reason to think he won’t do it again when another – inconvenience presents itself…”

And the problem was that he was right. Tom had looked into many murderer’s eyes, and you could tell whether they were sorry for what they done, and Haldeman had shown no regret whatsoever. He’d taken a life – and a life of a woman he must have liked reasonably well at some point, or at least whatever passed for this sort of thing in his cold mind – and he was the kind of man who would take the experience and come to the conclusion that he could get away with murder again because he had done it before.

They needed to pin him down.

There was nothing to do but to look at Carter and nod. He understood immediately.

That evening, as Carter had told him (and enjoyed that he got to do so in that obnoxious manner of his) Tom made his way to Haldeman’s house. Get him on the terrace, that was what Carter had said, and it was easy enough to do – just ask if they could have a quick cigarette outside while they went over a few small details once again – and Haldeman was too sure of himself and his success to even be slightly troubled.

He confirmed the affair again, although he claimed it had ended about a month ago; and that he had not been interested in seeing her again; and no, he had no idea who would want to harm her –

And then, the window upstairs broke, causing them both to look up, and something flew out and right in front of their feet.

It was the necklace.

Carter had never been the subtlest of man, but for one, he didn’t care. He leaned down and picked it up before Haldeman could react. “I have to say – sir, this looks exactly like the description of the necklace the victim wore. Do you have an explanation for why it was in your house?”

The subsequent routine would ensure that Carter could get away without a hitch.