#One of the best things about parenting is getting to experience some of those snippets alongside my kiddo

[stevishabitat]

😭😭😭

the thing is that childhood doesn't just end when you turn 18 or when you turn 21. it's going to end dozens of times over. your childhood pet will die. actors you loved in movies you watched as a kid will die. your grandparents will die, and then your parents will die. it's going to end dozens and dozens of times and all you can do is let it. all you can do is stand in the middle of the grocery store and stare at freezers full of microwave pizza because you've suddenly been seized by the memory of what it felt like to have a pizza party on the last day of school before summer break. which is another ending in and of itself

[lovekabaneri]

Getting Dunked AU ch 3

Inspired by @keferon Apocalyptic Ponyo AU

The story where Blaster gets dunked in the forbidden sea ooze. You can read the full chapters on AO3, since I put only parts of it here because it becomes too long.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64675222/chapters/168209992

Snippet:

Morning came agonizingly slow, especially when Blaster was having trouble sleeping due to nightmares and paranoia from the mutated crab he saw. The night had been chilly and quiet with only the sound of water lapping at the buildings and occasional cry of a seagull far in the distance. When the sun rose, he forced down a granola bar for energy and some water before packing and leaving the apartment building.

‘Alright then! Let’s go!’ – he thought and adjusted his cap a bit before moving on.

He had to get creative about getting down, since a large part of the fire escape he used had been wrenched off the wall by the giant wave and he was not eager to go back down the way he met the mutated crab the previous day. With a bit of jumping and rooftop hopping, he had managed to get close to the ground or in his case water level.

“Huff~ Finally! This was quite the workout and I work at an aquarium with animals that can kill me by accident!” – he dusted his hands as he hopped down on the roof of what was once a residential building.

Blaster looked around, scanning the surroundings carefully. Now that he was on a lower level, the destroyed city looked even more like a scene of those apocalyptic movies. Destroyed buildings, cars, trash and other lighter debris was floating and bobbing in the water and all the water damage to the buildings… He could see where the water had reached during the tsunami and it was several stories above him. He gulped nervously and decided not to think too much about the giant wave – he had more important things to do!

‘Alright! First – go to the aquarium and check if Jazz and Prowl are fine! The faster I am able to do that, the faster I’ll be able to go to where the emergency flares were. Second – find a way to contact my parents! I need to know if they are fine and tell them I’m alive, so I have to be on the lookout for a phone. Third – find more rations and water whenever possible! These would last me for a bit but better be safe than sorry! Lastly – look for survivors! If someone else is still out there, maybe they can help or need help?’

Blaster continued walking along the rooftop as he went over his mental checklist. Sometimes, the roofing underneath creaked and made him stop and tense before moving forward. Jumping over flooded alleys, going through busted windows and quickly crossing through waterlogged apartment hallways, his legs carried him forward until he reached the end of the road or in his case the end of the solid rooftop. In front of him was a large stretch of water – the main street.

Before the tsunami, it was a large street, many cars and pedestrians used it all the time, even Blaster often jogged through here, sometimes resting under one of the trees planted beside the sidewalk when the weather was too hot, but now, the wide, open road was an obstacle for him. He looked down at the deep, dark water, shuddering at the possibility of what may be below the surface, it would be dangerous to go in it. He watched as the faint current made a few plastic bags and empty cans float by – yeah, with all the trash it would not be a pleasant experience to go swimming.

‘What should I do now?’ Blaster bit his lip ‘I have to pass through the city center and then through the industrial area to reach the aquarium. That’s the fastest way there and I can’t just jump in the water and hope for the best!’

The main street was now an obstacle instead of a convenience. Should he try and circle through another place where there was not as much free space to cross or… His eyes scanned the area once more, darting from one place to the other, before they landed on a floating car. There were several such vehicles in the water and even a broken bus that was wedged into the side of a building, its frame twisted and windows smashed by the initial wave. A chill went down Blaster’s spine – it was empty, maybe for the best because the bus was a wreck and he did not want to see or even imagine what might have happened if there were people inside when the wave hit.

‘I just hope they could have gotten away safely.’

It was going to be risky, but when choosing between some hopping on the floating cars and trekking several kilometers more, looking for a path that might not be there, in a flooded city, he chose the improvised car pathway. He took a few steps back and darted forward, picking up speed with each step, then when he reached the roof’s end, he jumped. Blaster was in the air for a bit before he landed a bit roughly on the closest car. The half-submerged vehicle sank a bit lower and bobbed on the water, sending ripples across its surface.

“Oohkay… This went rather well-! Gah!” – Blaster almost bit his tongue when his improvised raft started moving and tilting to one side.

He scrambled to steady himself and move closer to the center, so he doesn’t end up in the water- the car rocked with every move he made. He looked forward and between his float and the next car was just a small jump, but as he shifted and the car below him shook…

‘I- I may not have thought this through properly.’

Blaster tried using one of his arms to paddle a bit closer to the next car but it was not enough to move the vehicle and he only ended up splashed with some water. In the end, he had to just try his best and take the jump.

‘I can do this. It’s just a jump. Not even that wide. Just don’t miss. Don’t slip. Don’t look down.’ – he repeated like a mantra before he took the next leap.

He landed with a thump on the next car. Behind him, the previous one drifted away, tugged by the current and his momentum. This time, Blaster was more prepared, so he quickly stood up on his feet and moved forward, towards his goal. He jumped on several cars, the abandoned vehicle sometimes groaning and bumping into each other with a loud scrape of metal. Blaster almost slipped a few times, one of his sneakers was now dripping water due to a too short jump and his sock felt gross inside the shoe but he kept on moving forward, there was no way back even if he hesitated now. Finally, he reached the bus’s remains.

‘I’ve got this! I just need to get up on… this thing!’ – Blaster thought as he pulled himself on top of the bus.

He huffed as the bus was still slick from the water and was literally sticking out of a building at an awkward angle, but with a bit more effort, Blaster managed to haul himself up. The metal below his feet groaned and screeched like it was alive with each step Blaster took, but the bus was a piece of cake, compared to the floating cars, at least it stood in one place!

‘Oh, what won’t I do for a slice of cake from the café? But it’s ruined now by all the water.’ – Blaster thought.

The redhead reached the building – he had a busted window near him that he could use but there were large pieces of glass still attached on the frame, so he used the metal pipe he had on him to smash them to bits and make his entry easier. Blaster clambered through the window frame and swung his legs inside.

“Ow!”

There was a quick stab of pain just as he lowered his right leg, he yanked it closer to him quickly. He quickly brought it up and examined it to see what had happened. There was a small tear on his jogging pants and the tiniest, almost invisible scratch on his skin. There must have been a shard of sharp glass he had scraped it on, but thankfully it was barely a scratch, he was not even bleeding, just a droplet of blood and a split skin. A band-aid quickly solved the problem and he continued his journey....

[lux-et-astra]

analysis of what each sink scene represents - session six

once again thank you tash for the reams of analysis material!!!! spoilers (obviously) under the cut

for reference, i'm calling fire/dry girl/narrator kate, and her victim/best friend birdie

finally the big one!! there aren't really "scenes" as such here so i'll just go in order of what happens

first of all: "Don’t worry! I’ll be here, the whole time." from the narrator. yes girlie you WILL be!! because you're kate!! we get the sinking realisation of that here in just a moment: "People don’t… they just don’t –" // "Properly understand." the narrator is finishing kate's sentences!! and then eventually they talk at the same time ("Three… two… one… go.") and we finally see that kate and the narrator are one and the same! now we get the running from birdie - although this time it's running out of fear, not because kate is coming to get her (she's not scared of kate yet), but because her dreams are catching up. the first dream snippet we see is sonic the hog! the relevance of the forest is finally underlined ("For the fun run, everyone was!") as we see that yes. she should be running. then we get another running/forest adjacent scene in balanced for eggs which gives us a little more context. we got the suggestion in balanced for eggs the first time that kate was the chick who got boiled, just a random chance of nature, but here we get some extra information ("When people are born all boiled up, all hot, or just different, you know, it’s not your fault, but if you don’t stay away, well –") and we can see textually how much this man is warning birdie to stay away from kate. the narrator's insistence that birdie move past this insistence ("Run!") is followed by the grudging defeat of the man ("If you don’t stay away, whatever happens, that's – that’s up to you!"). we can see that the narrator does not want what's best for birdie - it's clearly not a good decision to try and force this remembrance, and birdie's actions both now and at the time were against all advice but kate's. this early section provides us with context for some of the earlier dreams and crucially contextualises this flight through the forest as a fight against birdie's dreams - who are just trying to warn her. birdie is, right now, on kate's side, against her own subconscious, a betrayal as she abandons those figures who want what's best for her: who, right now, are just figments of her subconscious, but we'll see later that she also abandons real-life figures who wanted what was best for her like her parents.

next up we get the sand lady presenting a perspective after the camping trip incident, making this chronology absolutely wild ("Lovely stuff, no one needs to call the police. Not until it becomes clear that someone’s gone missing. Uh oh, where’s she gone? Uh oh! Where’d you last see her? Cause they’re gonna start asking lots of questions, aren’t they?") and we can see the beginnings of blame as a theme for birdie. evidently there would have been lots of questions after the incident and we can see more than anything how birdie blames herself ("They’re going to ask you – they’re going to ask you if you could have done anything to stop it.") - "could you have done anything to stop it" is more likely something birdie asked herself than anything an outsider would have asked, except perhaps kate's family. the fact that her subconscious is demanding this suggests that birdie still feels guilt over the incident, even though she can't yet remember it clearly

we move on to birdie's mother giving us some more details about kate! ("Sweetheart, just… these little swimming trips, and camping trips, and little… obviously it’s lovely that you’ve – that you’ve got a friend.") this suggests that sherbet and it needs to dig/dip day are pretty close to the truth, and solidifies this current experience as a camping trip! ("I don’t want you to just be… doing things because… other girls have told you to do it.") birdie's mother expressed some of these feelings in the earlier scene ("all the girls wanna be smooth girls now…") but here we get it pretty clearly that she feels that birdie is being pushed into things by kate. the relationship between the two girls is evidently fairly toxic as we've already pretty much established but this outside perspective gives a less-biased view, showing how concerning kate's behaviour can be! ("It’s nice she gets out, obviously boring for her, just… just with her grandma and grandad, but… people say things, darling.") we get a little more evidence of kate's turbulent homelife - as much as grandparents can provide a loving and stable home, it does suggest perhaps some kind of upheaval in kate's living situation/problem with her parents, which could have led to some of her problems, especially if there were some kind of fire... ("What happened in the swimming pool, it’s just… it’s nice you like her, but she’s… she’s not quite right, is she love?") there's a suggestion here that birdie is a little naïve? at least that she's brushing past things kate has done or willfully ignoring them. which i think is very interesting as a measure of their relationship because it's very natural for birdie to try and defend her friend and that kind of cognitive dissonance is definitely not out of the question - i think it's possible that birdie is being a bit naïve but considering that these girls seem to have been friends since childhood, i don't think it's fair to criticise birdie for not seeing danger in her closest friend - while it's true that she probably should have listened to her mother with regards to kate's behaviour, i don't find any fault in birdie for just sticking with her friend. ("It’s best not to annoy her. Alright love? It’s best not to annoy her.") this final bit from birdie's mother evokes the end of children in there ("All things considered, best not to annoy him.") and pretty much solidifies the impression of kate as potentially dangerous, that there could be negative consequences for birdie if she doesn't go along with kate, which i think furthers the point that birdie's not to blame! the woods are a very isolated place, and the fact that the camping trip incident only hurt kate and birdie is in fact a lot better than it could have been - had birdie annoyed kate, had she rejected her earlier, kate could well have wanted to take revenge, and given that birdie lives with her mother, that could have had far more casualties than just kate and birdie. so i think as much as birdie should have probably got out earlier before kate became as hell-bent on her desire for self-immolation (and taking birdie with her), i do think she did everything right for the situation she was in.

after the mother's section we get a little bit which feels very police-y! "Excuse me. Very important you tell us the truth, okay? This is for her sake as much as anyone else." i suspect that birdie didn't end up telling people the truth - on one hand, i highly suspect she repressed a lot of her memories of the camping trip incident, and on the other, the fact that birdie believed kate to be dead somewhat suggests that kate "escaped" on her own terms, which would imply that police/paramedics either didn't look for her or didn't find her - presumably it should have been easy to find her if birdie had given police all the details of the camping trip. after this we get "Little games, her little stories." // "At this point, there is a fire." the framing of this as a game and a story as well as the reference to the earlier scene ("Peter sat back and said what he always said.") suggests an inescapable nature to this! also it feels like very childish language which is a little sad, actually. they're still so young! making up silly stories and playing games! although kate's silly stories she has decided to make real so... less fun.

we then get a direct follow up to that with all four "I've got a story"s which i find fantastic. it wasn't until transcribing that this moment really hit me and i frantically went back checking that all the monologues did really start with "I've got a story"! it made me crazy! it ties everything back in to the birdman game and to kate's way of looking at the world which shows how insidiously kate's worldview has crept into birdie's world... crazy stuff. all the other stories are clearly building up to the most important story which, as we're about to hear, is kate's. this scene hits hardest because it's very clear that it's not a dream, it's a memory. whereas every other scene has some kind of dreamlike logic (real laser gun action being the one that comes to mind) we finally get a shot of reality - although it feels very dreamlike because we're seeing through kate's lens! i find this beginning bit a little sad ("You just have to listen to the story. To the end, that’s all. Okay? And then it’s finished. And we go back.") because "go back" for KATE means go back to the tent where they will die in a fire together whereas i'm quite sure birdie is more likely to take it as go back home. but it's not the end is it. i haven't mentioned much of the sound effects in the sink but i think the really key thing in this scene is [SFX: FLICKING LIGHTER]. you can hear it throughout kate's story!! i didn't even notice until listening to it about a million times for transcription purposes but it's there - and it's so soft and in the background yet so present, which i think really speaks to kate's pyromania. it informs everything she does and yet it's subtle enough to go unnoticed by most people. i don't think that kate's speech needs a massive amount of analysis. i think it's a pretty logical culmination of everything we've seen. i think it's interesting that it juxtaposes language about building a house and a life together ("And they built a house, a dry house, and they built it out of straw.") which is very domestic and intimate with the suggestion of burning it all down ("And they knew all they needed to do to be dry, and warm, forever was just to huff, and puff, and burn the house down.") which is very very violent. i think kate really contrasts those ideas in her head, that houses have to burn, that the life you build together has to go up in flames. i think it probably speaks to a previous incident. another interesting thing about her speech is that she consistently includes birdie in her worldview as thinking the same as her ("Once, there were two people who… met each other in the world, and they knew that the world was all wet. They could see it was, it was dripping cold, all of it, and that all their clothes and bodies were heavy and their sleeves dragged along the road dripping off all the wetness everywhere they went and they were the only ones who could f– feel it.") she very much implies that she thinks birdie thinks the same as her. which i think we can gather is not necessarily true! but it possibly speaks to kate's actions being slightly less out of the blue - she genuinely thinks that birdie also wants this. which is very sweet but also deluded. kate also uses very deterministic language ("They wanted to, but that’s not what happens, in the story.") in fact the whole framing of this as a story really suggests that it's set in stone and immutable, which heads off any kind of possible argument really - of course they have to do it, it's Just What Happens. i think that frame of mind is what kate's using as a crutch, she's not thinking critically about what she's doing, it just has to happen this way, so it's fine and permissible. and then when birdie starts to rebel, kate references the time they first met ("Wait, it’s not – it’s not finished, wait. Just – let’s – let’s put some music on. You have your headphones? C’mon. One for you, one for me.") to get her back on side. they're sharing! they're together! the music is to remind birdie of how long they've been friends, of how much they've shared together.

"And they knew that the wet ones would look for them, but they were together, and they knew that sometimes, it’s better when people don’t come back." - i think kate says this entirely for birdie's benefit. it doesn't really seem like kate has relations who would worry about her, but birdie's parents evidently still want the best for her, so this is very much to assure birdie that kate is all she needs. which is worryingly codependent and also how domestic abusers distance their partners from their support circles! kate goes on ("We can only finish the game if you listen to the end, so you have to stop.") to tell birdie that she has to listen to finish their game. i think birdie has realised by now what kate is doing and this is kate's last chance to get her on side, which i don't think she manages! the framing of "finishing the game" is what's most important to kate, because she sees life as a series of games and stories, and she sees her friendship with birdie as an extended game of birdman. but for birdie, the situation is dangerously real and the framing of "ending the game" means nothing to her. however the fact that birdie runs away means that she doesn't listen to the end, so they can't finish the game!!!! which has terrible consequences for birdie, because kate can't leave a game unfinished. i think kate's pleas for birdie to come back are really sad ("Wait, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Just stay! Stay here! Stay here! No, wait – lie down, come back! It’ll be so much better if we don’t come back! Wait! Don’t leave me!") because they go from "it'll be so much better if we don't come back", i.e. look how much it'll benefit you, to "don't leave me", which shows what kate's really concerned about. she doesn't want to be alone. for someone with such an all-consuming friendship, it's probably terrifying for kate to suddenly have to consider existing without birdie, which leads her to taking bad decisions. like:

[SFX: SPLASH] - running in blind terror and falling into a lake. i think this causes kate to spiral and ultimately to make a very bad decision. her trigger (being wet) sets her off entirely and she loses all critical thinking.

we leave kate behind, just like birdie does, mad with grief and fear and pyromania, and return to birdie, who finds help in john and jim!! who are finally recontextualised as her "rescuers" in a sense. we get the line that the narrator has been putting off - "Oh – fire!" - and we get a key question from john: "Was there anyone else, love? Is there anyone else in there?" birdie does not reply, that we can tell. she's finally out. but the game's not finished.

"And the last little bird to get scared is scared so much it isn’t a bird anymore. All its feathers get hot and dry and they’re not feathers anymore, they’re just straw. And its eyes are small little buttons. And it all begins again. I knew I’d find you in the end." kate's scare is finally complete, however many years later. birdie's not a bird anymore! we finally get the full-on reveal of kate & the narrator being the same person, with them speaking over each other ("I found you, in the end.", "Stretch them out, all the straw.") and the horrifying reveal that every time the narrator has been telling birdie to stretch her arms, she has meant it in a scarecrow sense. freaky! as an ending, this very much implies that birdie is going to start scaring people the same as kate ("There are new little birds to find. And when we catch them… We get to scare them.") which seems to imply that birdie is now somehow under kate's thrall? it's quite an open-ended ending, considering we don't hear specifically from birdie throughout this entire session! what actually happens to her is left up to us! personally, i think if kate had the latest in nano-mesh sleep technology, she could do anything she wanted to birdie's mind. maybe she's locked in an eternal dream - after all, the important ones come back.

thank you for reading!!! i really hope you've enjoyed all my silly little thoughts about the sink and that they've helped a little in understanding what the hell's going on!!! feel free to chat to me with thoughts or ideas, i'm always down to discuss!!!

[sluntch]

My Health Journey - A Writing Experiment - Day 1

DISCLAIMER: I want to lay out at the start of this post that, while it has to do with dieting, food, weight loss, and exercise, I do not have a diagnosed eating disorder, am not eating 1200 or fewer calories a day, and am not peddling some diet regimen. I am not a medical professional and nothing I say in this or future posts should in any way be considered medical advice. I'm just a dude out here tryna be healthier.

Hello to anyone who stumbles across this post. I am now going to be actively using this blog that I've had for, like, a billion years. I know I've said this multiple times in the past and have never followed through, but I've been "going through some shit"™ and have become much better at developing and cultivating habits to the degree that I stick with them. The habit I'm trying to cultivate, at this point, is getting back into writing, something I've always been passionate about and loved doing but have never really attempted to pursue in earnest, either due to self-doubt or laziness. I'm unsure which of those two is more powerful in my psyche, to be honest. To that end, what better place to write something, no matter how small or large, every day until writing some number of words becomes a habit than a blog where I can just put snippets about something ELSE that I do every day until I start doing it forever? Ain't that grand? See below the cut if you'd like. Otherwise, happy scrolling!

The thing I'll be documenting is the continuation of a journey that I started a year ago after a visit to the doctor wherein some rough stuff came to light. Just for the record, I'm going to be candid about a lot of the things that are going on regarding my current state of health and being. I don't shy away from sharing things about myself as I don't really embarrass easily. Obviously, these will be within reason. Posts will be tagged appropriately to make sure that, when things get particularly gnarly, which they might, those who wish to shield themselves from those things can do so. As I've never really used this webbed site to it's (omegalul) full potential, my tagging may be rudimentary at best, so I'm counting on being corrected and sitting my white ass down and learning, so if something slips through the cracks please be sure to let me know.

With that preamble out of the way, let's get to the meat and potatoes of this entry.

One year ago, roughly around mid-year, I noticed that my legs and feet just began swelling constantly, some days to the point of actual pain, not just discomfort. Anytime they were pressed against something, indentations were left on my skin and to squeeze them with one's fingers was to feel something akin to a latex bag filled with sand. It was exacerbated to an unbearable degree any time I had alcohol which, back in those days, was near constantly and at considerable volume given how large I was. In order to actually become comfortably buzzed, I would need to consume probably 2-3 cocktails or 3-4 beers. To become fully drunk, namely something reserved for parties, I would probably need to have consumed 3-4 cocktails or 4-5 beers at minimum due to my size, sitting comfortably around 320 pounds. I was drinking, on average, conservatively, 3-4 drinks a night during the week and at parties probably averaged 6 beers and/or liquor (either straight or in cocktails). Coupled with my inherent love of snacking, any given "normal day", however we're defining that, would be around 3.5-4.5k caloric intake. On spike days, like a party on Saturday or Holidays, this would most likely have easily exceeded 5k. Concern from both my wife and myself (mostly my wife) prompted me to go see a doctor, as the insurance from my new job was a huge upgrade from the hourly job I'd had before it. I had also not been to a doctor since I had been kicked off my parents insurance at 26. I was 31 at the time.

The doctor's visit revealed a slew of issues that, given my lifestyle up to that point, should not have been surprising in any way. Most notable were a slightly fatty liver (not enough for a diagnosis of Fatty Liver Syndrome, but still), dangerously low potassium levels, and high blood pressure, for which I was put on at least 3 medications. The leg and feet swelling was attributed to something called Venous Reflux, a condition in which the Greater Saphenous Vein in the leg cannot bring blood from the lower extremities back to the heart fast enough and it just sort of pools in the feet, eventually swelling up through a decent portion of the leg. One of the more notable parts of the conversation was my weight. I had tried two forms of dieting in the past: 2 rudimentary and half-hearted calorie counts and a brush with intermittent fasting. With both, I was stupid and impatient waiting for near instant results and when the holidays rolled around and everything fell apart, I gave up each time around New Years. Neither had stuck and I assumed I was just not built to handle that kind of commitment. When my doctor mentioned keeping a calorie diary at this visit, I slumped a bit thinking about the previous times I had tried and failed to keep to something like that, but figured I had to give it a shot. The alternative was medication for weight loss and I, then and now, didn't want to be on medication possibly for the rest of my life if I could help it. In that moment, I decided to give it a try naturally and this time, hopefully, stick to it. I re-downloaded the Cronometer app onto my phone and, starting the next day, began documenting what I ate, even just to see what a day looked like at the time. That one doctor's visit changed my life to a degree that I'll never take for granted and set me on my current course - something that I believe has saved my life.

I'll cut the story here for now, as this post is already too long. Tomorrow's entry will continue from this point as mostly a lore dump and catch-up for anyone who hasn't heard all of this yet. Thanks for reading if you did and I'll see you tomorrow for the next one. After three months of this crap you'll all be tired of it but, hey, I'll have a new habit formed and then who's the winner?

Me.

[bylightofdawn]

WIP Sunday

Hmmmmmn so this entire chapter is from a certain character's POV who I have been trying to obscure their identity though honestly? I don't think it's surprising at this point, I've kinda laid some huge breadcrumbs. Unfortunately, I don't have anything else to post for WIP. I thought about skipping it but honestly at this point? I'm headed into the end game of Seeds and it seems a little silly to try and edit around their presence since they play a huge part in the finale.

So I'm not going to try and hide their identity any further. I post all my WIP Sunday's beneath a spoiler tag so you as the reader can decide if they wish to engage with it. Just know from here on out there will be spoiler characters and potential spoilers headed into the end portion of Seeds.

I updated my master doc through Chapter 28 and holy fuckballs ya'll I'm at 139,137 words. So I am definitely going to break 150,00K. It's also 330 pages in 11pt font. I am not joking when I say I never want to write a long-fic like this ever again. This shit is exhausting.

Okay, onto WIP Sunday. I'll post some context beneath the cut.

As always it's unedited and prolly a bit shit considering I am kinda knackered tonight but it will hopefully get cleaned up and polished further down the line.

🚨🚨🚨 This is your warning, story spoilers behind the cut, engage at your own risk. 🚨🚨🚨

Context: For those unaware, Jango's older sister, Arla who everyone assumed died in the attack on their family homestead along with his parents was kidnapped and held captive by Death Watch for years. They brainwashed her, drugged her, branded her as their fucking property and abused her pretty horrifically until she became one of their soldiers and Tor's assassins. In the Rep Comm books she ends up in a mental asylum, a completely broken and shattered person after getting captured after an assassination gone wrong. It's pretty upsetting all around, especially since Traviss does this SUPER GROSS AND SQUICKY move where they have Jusik ends up wiping her memories of said trauma. And then because it's fucking Karen Traviss they end up together and it's just....so gross. So I went fuck that shit, it's my AU. She's been in Death Watch's hands for about a six years at this point and has some pretty hefty emotional trauma from her time with them. Arla gets captured during a Mandalorian raid on a Death Watch safehouse and it's revealed she's Jango's sister so Jaster and the others are trying to help deprogram her and safely wean her off the cocktail of drugs that Death Watch had her on. It's going....about as well as you could expect. LOL

Okay, onto the snippet....

They reconvened downstairs a few minutes later, and Arla somewhat reluctantly settled at the table next to the Mon Calamari while Jango sat at her side.

“Why are there Jedi here, Mereel?” She asked pointedly as she looked across the table at Jaster.

“Healer Vrootra here may be best suited to assist you in recovering from what Death Watch has done to you. Moreso than even Mij here so they have graciously agreed to meet with us to see if they can come up with a treatment plan for you.”

“I am a fully trained healer but I also specialize in trauma recovery. The Mand’alor also thought you would appreciate a more…let us say neutral third party.”

Arla eyed her Ril narrowly. “You’re a Jedi headshrink?”

“I wouldn’t call what I do that exactly but I do incorporate psychology into my repertoire if that is what you are asking. My compatriots often experience and witness some of the worst things in the galaxy. It can leave it’s traumatic mark on even the most stalwart of minds. And while we are taught to try and release our negative emotions into the Force, sometimes everyone needs a helping hand. I would be that helping hand if you would allow me, Arla.”

There was an earnest sort of kindness that radiated from the Jedi Healer.

“You’ll understand why I would be less than enthused to accept anything from a Jetii.” The blonde said a little ironically. “Others here at this table might be on good terms with your kind, but to me, you’re still our ancient enemies who once ravaged our home world and installed a false government full of collaborators and traitors.”

“That was centuries ago, we can remember the lessons that it teaches us but to cling to bad blood only serves to poison us.” Jaster pointed out with a small frown.

“Yet Mandalore still remembers and still bears the scars of their idea of justice.”

“We did just as much damage to our homeworld as the Jedi did. We cannot lay all of that at their feet.”

“I cannot speak on what the two of you are discussing with any real authority though I can tell you that we view that period as one of our greatest disgraces and something that the Jedi Order has sworn never to repeat. We are not like that anymore and have chosen to take a more neutral and non-martial path because of that shame. I wish to help you, not because you’re a Mandalorian or because I am a Jedi but because it is within my abilities to help health another sentient being’s pain.” The Mon Calamari said with soft sadness limning her words.

“I sense your pain, Arla, just as I can sense the drugs they filled your veins with. And I know you even now, you are feeling the creeping edges of withdrawal from them and how unpleasant it is.”

Surprise flickered across the woman’s face because she hadn’t even told Jango about the cramping she’d begun to feel in her guts or the headache that had begun to pound behind her eyes despite the rest she’d taken.

“I could help to cleanse the drugs from your body and help to ease the pangs of your withdrawal. Or you could choose to follow the medical plan Doctor Gilimar has drawn up for you. It will be a long and somewhat arduous path because you will need to be tapered off of it slowly lest it damages your liver and kidneys.”

“I’m not afraid of discomfort,” Arla said, knowing her words sounded weak even to her own ears.

“I know you do not, you have no doubt faced far worst pain, but why suffer needlessly? Or risk letting yourself be at anything less than your peak physical capability in the face of whatever your future holds? Something tells me you would prefer to be able to defend yourself and your kin.” Ril proved themselves to be more shrewd than the others had assumed because if you wanted to motivate a Mandalorian, implying they might be incapable of protecting their clan and family was a powerful and dangerous motivation.

Thankfully, Arla didn’t take offense to that statement. “Fine, but if you try and play any sly tricks, I’ll pin your fins to the wall.”

The Jedi didn’t bother to rise to that bait, and the two of them retreated to Arla’s room.

And for a while, that was her routine.

Life among the True Mandalorians settled into a sort of pensive holding pattern. Ril Vrootra visited daily. It was discussed and discarded almost immediately that Arla might go to the Jedi Temple but everyone agreed it might be overly much for her to handle from a mental health point of view.

It also went without saying that they didn’t dare risk her leaving the premises because while she’d proven to be a prickly albeit relatively quiet resident, she had not fully won over Jaster’s trust thus yet.

Still, she was allowed run of the floor and eventually the roof, which is where she came across Tal Almec one afternoon.

Arla took one look at the sallow-faced teen and the skittish look in those violet eyes and accurately read him to be one of the New Mandalorian members of the peace talks.

Death Watch had an special hatred for New Mandalorians whom they viewed as dar’manda and traitors to the Mandalorian way of life.

Ril had made some headway in helping to undo some of the psychological damage done to Arla over the years when it came to her captivity at Death Watch’s merciless hands. But it was going to be a long journey.

However, when Arla looked at the boy, she spotted an opportunity and easy, meek prey. A plan began to formulate in her brain as she smiled at him sweetly which seemed to startle the lad.

“Uh…hi. I didn’t know anyone else was up here. Am I interrupting you?”

“Not at all, I’m just enjoying the view.” In truth, she’d come up here after her latest exhausting session with Ril. The Jedi had managed almost completely to flush the potent cocktail of drugs from her system and the two of them had built enough of a rapport that the young Mandalorian begun to open up to the Jedi Healer regarding her time on Concordia.

They had been right, having a neutral party Ril Vrootra had proven herself to be excellent at her profession and new how best to navigate the often dangerous waters of a damaged psyche skillfully.

Arla felt better after each session but it also left her feeling drained both physically and emotionally.

“Shig?” She offered pleasantly enough and going by the way the boy’s eyes lit up, she knew her lure had been taken. From there, she waited and plotted.

She hadn’t even confided in Jango her plans.

Unlike what Jaster might have feared, she had no interest in running back into Death Watch’s open arms.

No, she intended on getting close enough to Tor Vizsla and she was going to kill him. Even if that required she play the part of still remaining loyal to their cause.

Tor was canny, she doubted he would immediately trust her after so long in enemy hands but she knew of his plans and knew when best to make her move. She simply had to find a way to escape the accursed confines of this damn complex.

Which is where Tal Almec came into play.

[running-in-the-dark]

somehow the things my mother says always come back to the same few points. this time it was: she started watching our old home videos, and I was sooo bossy, and isn't it so funny that I was like that at home but anywhere else I wouldn't do anything on my own (buying ice cream, going to the restroom, etc.) so my brother (one year younger than me) always had to go with me, haha, that's hilarious.

it's so hard not to react and argue. it's so fucking hurtful when she says these things. I've only been able to watch snippets of those videos because they're too painful, but, in the ones I have seen I behaved the same way as my brother. sometimes I did get upset - because no one would listen to me or pay any attention to me, or they'd tell me no when I did the exact same thing that my brother was allowed to do. stuff like that.

anyway. all I said was that parents are supposed to do those things, and since they didn't, my brother had to. she said you can't do everything for a child because you'll spoil them. yeah, sure, a child that is so terrified of speaking to anyone they don't know obviously would be 'spoiled' if someone ever, you know, helped them in any way. she said that's how you teach children to be independent.

sure, she knows best of course. I've only got 31 years of experience being someone who was raised by her, so what do I know. I'm sure my former therapist would love to discuss the effects this has had with her. but that wouldn't matter, she's right, she read several books about raising children! and we all know that if something is in a book, that means it's 100% true! and of course it doesn't matter that those books were very likely written in the 70s or earlier - we all know people never had any fucking stupid thoughts and opinions on anything in that time! things don't change, you have to be strict and controlling and harsh with your kids or they might think their parents love them or some weak bullshit like that!

(I did also finally notice that it's incredibly fucked up that she accuses me of being bossy and so on. she is the strictest person I know! she gets her way with absolutely everything all the time! but *I* am bossy? me?! the person who never ever wants to cause anyone any trouble and always agrees to everything to avoid arguments [except with her]?! what the fuck.)

I had to help my mother with a few things today (it went alright, but she made some really shitty comments. as usual. so I'm still sort of upset about that). after that I ran some errands.

it took about 3 hours total, and it was 30 degrees Celsius, so I was very tired by the end. none of it would have been hard on its own but combined with the weather... it just took all the energy I had. I want to do stuff now but can't get up off the couch. fell asleep for a few hours and it hasn't helped at all.

[dayseternal-blog]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

:D my 5 favorite fics that I've written?? okay.

"It's No Secret" - Hinata returns to Konoha after 5 years studying abroad in the Moon Kingdom. She just wants to enjoy her last year of high school as a normal girl, but blossoming love forces her to confront her future. (Rated M). - My baby fish. A high school AU for which I was really trying all different kinds of things and making all kinds of mistakes, finding my writing style. As a fanfic writer newbie, I felt so free to do whatever I wanted! Every scene for me was gripping, and I was so immersed in the world I was trying to create. It has an original, lengthy plot that I still hope to finish one day!!! I love this fic just because it was so instrumental to helping me improve. It's definitely NOT my best work, but from the first chapter to the most recently published chapter, my growth in writing is so apparent. All of the comments I got on it, even the ones that criticized, were encouraging for me and I cherish those readers who've followed my fics since then 💞

"Nightdreams" - Naruto and Hinata find comfort in each other after the war. (Rated E). - The easiest multi-chapter fic to write. Ever. Since then, I've never had quite as much fun writing a fic (I think Catskin came close). Certainly never as easy a time. "Nightdreams" had its moments of growth for me for sure, though, like the mission chapter, the argument chapter, all of the smut! It had its challenges, but the story flowed so easily, from beginning to end. I think there were only a couple of small writer's blocks. Overall, "Nightdreams" easily takes fave #2 just because it was so fun, and I think readers can tell that I really enjoyed writing it.

"Awkward Jocks" - She knows that if he were to ever ask her out, she would accept in a heartbeat. After all, he's the star quarterback and basketball player. Plus, she's liked him since...forever. But when her home phone rings, and he's on the other line, she hangs up. (Rated G). - The sweet and funny love story based off of my ex-coworker's life...bittersweet now, don't remember if I shared on Tumblr why. But I wrote this fic full of my love for her, so it takes the spot for fave #3.

"About You" - A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other. (Rated G). - One of my most personal fanfics, though many of them are super personal. This is possibly the MOST personal because it's slightly based off of my parents' stories, I set it on my home island, and I experimented with writing the dialogue in pidgin. The only reason it's not higher on my list is because I somehow feel like I didn't do as good a job on it as I would have liked. It's like, the cultural/historical details are not accurate enough for me. But this is definitely a fic I wrote for myself, and it's been a joy to see other people love it, too.

"Matcha" from "Shared Vows" - Naruto calls Hiashi "father" for the first time. (Rated T). - ooooh it was a toss-up between this one or "Finally Home" from "Shared Vows," but I decided on "Matcha" as my fave #5. I love how I framed this fic, its ending reversing the beginning, and I somehow managed to communicate exactly what I wanted to say about Naruto's new family. This fic gives me such feel-good vibes, and I'm so glad it captured the feelings I felt.

I know that my personal faves do not align with readers' personal faves. Except for maybe "Nightdreams" haha. That one is easy to love. I know people loved "White Lilies," "Friend of Mine," "Tell Me of Forevers," and "Undercover," ...those exhibit some of my best technical writing, so I'm glad readers recognized that effort! My personal faves have more sentimental value, I guess, so that's what makes them special to me.

[philtstone]

Sam and AJ and Cass, 29

#29 -- a story that never gets told

a prequel of sorts to my belovedly unhinged magical realism au, the original of which can be read on ao3 by clicking here. i wrote this prompt in random snippets on the subway, so hopefully its coherent. it kind of got away from me, but im leaning into the multiple indulged elements. most importantly, to answer zainabs oft asked question, "is this the one where he can turn into a whole ass wolf?" yes. yes it is.

Sam, as he has told his sister many a time, could learn — hypothetically — to be a great parent if he wanted to. Instead, he nobly chooses to fight for what’s right. This involves on occasion saving innocent lives amidst the unexpected collapse of Kingdoms, and more often petty magical crime, like that idiot who started going around stealing peoples sheep by herding them into his backyard, which he’d doused in a layer of magically un-solvent superglue. Thank God for Clint’s solvent arrows, which is a sentiment Sam brings up smugly whenever his sister expresses disdain towards the usefulness of magical items in completing household chores.

All of that was before Steve vanished into thin air, leaving Sam with custody of an ancient shield and a perpetually moody shapeshifter.

Hypotheticals are abounding just now. Hypothetically, Steve could just be on one long spontaneous vacation that he even logged in the shared magical calendar, which Bucky inconveniently misplaced on that last trek from North country down here. Hypothetically, Steve could have been kidnapped by a unicorn — those things are known to fuck with you just cause they can — and is currently being held in a magically enforced glade and subjected to a game of 21 riddles. Hypothetically, Steve could just be dead. Smallpox, common cold, unanticipated ogre attack on side of road. If Sam might say so himself, even the best of ‘em can get jumped sometimes; ain’t no shame in it.

“If Steve was dead, why hasn’t his ghost shown up to tell us that?” Bucky asks. He has elaborate theories on the matter, half of which involve the unicorn. The other half involve deep and cutting betrayal. Or murder.

“Steve Rogers did not just up and decide to play double agent,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. Bucky is never truly serious about this. He brings up potential intrigue in every conversation purely out of habit. And, Sam supposes begrudgingly, experience.

“So, murder.”

“Maybe ghost Steve is havin’ too much of a good time,” Sam says. “Remember that fae chick he was sweet on, and they got separated decades ago? Got him all stoic and single tear-y when her name came up? Carried her picture in his dumb little locket? She could be dead. They could be partying it up in the afterlife.”

“Bastard,” Bucky says grumpily, about Steve. “I’d tell you guys, if I died without you knowing.”

“Accidentally died,” insists Sam.

Bucky scowls. “I maintain we haven’t ruled out the double agent angle.”

“Oh my God!” says Sam, and throws his hands up in the air.

They have this exchange multiple times.

Sam sees the merit in the murder angle, but doesn’t necessarily like acknowledging it out loud. First of all, admitting Bucky might be right is always annoying, so he avoids doing it. Second, that shit’s bad juju, especially down here; you never know when a shadow man is listening in.

Just in case Ghost Steve really was murdered and forgot to tell them, though, Sam decides to conduct some scientific experiments. He makes Steve’s favourite gumbo (Sam’s mom’s recipe, of course – no one else’s can hold a candle) and bangs the pot lid loudly over the stove in case there are any spirits around to notice. He flips through Steve’s private sketchbook, left behind in Sam’s napsack — another clear evidence that he hasn’t turned coat — and makes childish faces at all the nude figures to trigger Steve’s artistic sensibilities. Then he leaves it out where the kids could find it, to trigger Steve’s moral sensibilities. 

Bucky takes more extreme measures. He goes out into the yard and yells, “Hey, jerk! You ever thought about what a basket case I’d be without you here? You don’t even got the decency to explain yourself?” after dark, into the droopy shapes of the mangrove trees. 

“Is he gonna start howling at the moon?” Sarah asks Sam one evening, though not unkindly, while they do the dishes and watch Bucky go at it through the small kitchen window.

Sam doesn’t say anything. Privately, he kind of feels like doing the same. 

Then, about three months later, after a near-coup and the revelation of multiple conspiracies and a big old honking blockade being put up all through South country, the Wakandans show up. With – holy shit, Sam thinks – a message from Steve.

“Uncle Sam, you’ve already told us that story.”

Okay, so speaking of parenting. Yeah, yeah, Sam would be a great parent in some alternate universe of events decidedly different from this one. In this universe, getting his nephews to bed at a reasonable hour when only this afternoon, a bunch of fancy people in red armour were holding a super secret outlaw meeting in the barn is proving harder than it looks. Sam almost wishes he was dealing with old Paste-Pot Pete and those sheep again.

“Uh, no I have not,” says Sam. “This version has added embellishments. The Wakandan King never challenged me to a duel, that was all Bucky’s bad luck.” 

“We’re calling ritual vengeance duels now?” asks Bucky dryly. 

“I’m just sayin’, I’m making a bunch of this up here. I am exercising creativity. Story version number one didn’t have any flying dwarves in it.”

Bucky is sitting in the doorway to the kids’ bedroom and attempting to de-encrust his favourite boots, which went through the ringer a bit on their way down through the bayou to Sarah’s three months ago. That was just after this all started. A lot’s changed since then.

Like the fact that Bucky is even in this house, cleaning boots. Or Sam’s newly discovered inability to lull little boys to sleep via adrenaline filled adventure stories while their mother takes a care package to the neighbours’ pregnant daughter in law. Sarah was very excited to see the newest in maternity fashion, which apparently Marlene had been sporting in the village all week, purchased from traveling dressmakers who might have had fae blood. Those guys always do know how to cut a cloak well. 

Bucky sniffs loudly at Sam’s defense and pulls an exaggerated face, raising the poor boot up to eye level to inspect it. “Maybe you’re just bad at telling stories,” he says finally.

While AJ and Cass giggle like the traitors they are, Sam makes a loud offended noise.

“Alright,” he says. “Fine. Fine. You know what? Just for that, I’m telling the story of how all of Petruski’s sticky sheep started followin’ your fluffy white wolf ass around.”

AJ dissolves into even harder giggles. Cass says, “Not the sheep story Uncle Sam! All you do in that one is complain!” and Bucky says, more primly than he has any right to, “I was consciously being as non threatening as possible, Samuel.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, “so non threatening they thought you were one of ‘em.”

AJ is really starting to wheeze now, so Sam hauls him into his arms to disrupt the hilarity before it gets medical. Cass brings his pillow up over his head like a crown to smother his own laughter. And Bucky winks, before – in a devastating play – letting out a quiet, plaintive pair of baas in quick succession.

Routines like this one are becoming more and more real. More and more comfortable, Sam thinks, amidst the boys’ shrieks of laughter. Being here, being in this home (their home – The home?) it fills his heart with something warm and solid and unmoving. Like he has put down a heavy load. Sometimes it is hard to imagine what is so important that makes it worth picking up sword and shield and leaving this behind. Without this, where would any of them even be?

It’s just, that thought doesn’t stop the rest of the world from banging on their door sometimes. 

Just look at Steve’s cryptic as hell note. The me you know isn’t dead. Seriously. What the fuck. Sam almost wishes he really was dealing with a unicorn.

He settles on telling the story of how he and Steve once met that tiny shrinking guy and between Captain Rogers’ knightly loyalty to his friends, some of Redwing’s more heroic moments, and the addition of the brilliant mage-princess who gifted Bucky the enchantment for his arm, both boys are appeased.

“Uncle Sam,” Cass says, sleepily, towards the tail end of the story. “’S no fair that magic skips a generation. I wanna help save the kingdom like you do.”

Sam quiets, his hand stilling where it was in the middle of brushing over AJs forehead. AJ is already fast asleep. Knocked out cold, snoring and everything. 

Thing is, Sam’s brand of magic is pretty limited — some gimmick, even, nowhere close to what his Titi had. All Sam’s good for, practically speaking, is translating messages from carrier pigeons. But it got him into this bigger world, tangled him up in it. 

Sam can see, even though Bucky’s head is down, that his friend’s expression has taken on a slight grimness.

“Cass. Hey.” Sam knuckles the boy’s nose gently. “What do you mean, like me. You know how I keep this old kingdom safe? I help your mama do the dishes.”

“Uncle Sam,” Cass says, rolling his sleepy thick-lashed eyes. 

Sam sighs. “Cass. Just because it doesn’t make for a good story doesn’t mean it isn’t important.”

More important, even. Running this old house, and its garden (with all those gnomes, little pains-in-the-ass) and its boat.

“Muh huh,” Cass manages. And then he has drifted off, the side of his face squished against the pillow.

Sam and Bucky quietly relocate to the kitchen, where Redwing is awaiting them with a new note and a dead mouse.

“Jesus,” Bucky mutters.

“You better not be about to get in a piss fight with a kestrel when there are sleeping children in the next room.”

As if on cue, Redwing flaps over lands happily on Bucky’s shoulder, startling him. The little bell on his foot jingles, and Bucky glares, which does nothing to deter the little bird’s impulse to start throwing up what appears to be more mouse. 

Bucky stands perfectly still and looks awfully close to raptorcide. 

Dude, can you like, be normal for once, Sam says, to the bird. Redwing fluffs out all of his feathers in Bucky’s face in response. 

“I don’t get into piss fights with your kestrel, Sam,” Bucky says, gritting each word out with individuality. 

Redwing twitters happily. 

He’ll come around eventually, Sam replies. He scoops the bird up in both hands and re-situates him on his own arm, and begins untying the little package wired to Redwing’s foot. Out loud, he adds, “You know, he wants to be your friend so badly –”

“He’s the one who chews through my best leather breeches twice a month –” Bucky cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath and reaching over to fumble the parchment scroll out of Sam’s hand while its messenger hops in one place and nuzzles the crown of his feathery head into Sam’s armpit. Sam’s poorly concealed smile fades when Bucky openly frowns.

“Note’s from Nakia,” Bucky mutters, tapping the amulet bracelet on his right wrist against the similar shape of beaded stone etched into the scroll’s covering as Sam strokes Redwing’s head. 

“It’s – what?”

“What what.”

“From another dimension,” Bucky reads aloud, looking increasingly incredulous. 

“What?” 

“You already said that.” Sam rolls his eyes. Bucky makes a face at the scroll. “Always gotta be another fuckin’ gimmick. Well. She’s got a guy to decode it.”

“Didn’t she cast the spell?” asks Sam, who is still processing the dimension thing. As in, like, different from their own?

Is that where Steve is?

“Yeah, but only to keep anyone else from decoding it. The bracelet itself already had a message stored in it.” 

“Beyond Steve’s disembodied voice materializing outta nowhere the first time I touched that thing to prove he hasn’t kicked the bucket.”

“Which,” Bucky starts, “for the record –”

“Was not your theory.”

Bucky frowns harder. Refocuses. “Yes. The bracelet, which was clearly a magical object enchanted to respond to your touch –”

“Could’a been our touch, you never held it before I did –”

“Fine, sure, our touch – double enchantment. This thing is stolen, and someone – my guess is Steve – managed to layer another goddamn spell on it before sending it our way.”

Sam sighs, staring at the gleaming dishes in the drying rack. A box of Arm and Magical Hammer’s peroxide sits orange and to the side. Maybe this is why Sarah refuses to use any of the handy dandy domestic enchantments he brings home for her. 

Because magic’s a pain in the ass.

“So?” says Sam.

“Uh, yeah. She’s got a guy to decode it …” Bucky grimaces, “on the other side of the river.”

Oh. Oh. Yeah, that’s gonna be rough.

“I can’t go through a GRC checkpoint,” Sam says. Redwing makes a mournful sound of agreement. Bucky is still turning the note over and over as if maybe reading it upside down will change its mystifying contents. 

“They’d recognize your beautiful knightly face,” he agrees, reciting Sam’s proffered explanation. “And then search all your bags and spook your horse. You know, she’s way too sensitive.”

“Clara ain’t sensitive, she’s emotionally intelligent. There’s a difference,” Bucky mutters something about Sam busting out his inner kingdom social worker lingo on them and Sam adds, “and you can go through a GRC checkpoint even less, by the way.”

“To be fair,” Bucky says, “they have kinda fucked up my nose in all those wanted posters. Maybe they wouldn’t recognize me.”

They both sit down at the table, resigned. It’s a sticky problem. Sam supposes, as Bucky pulls his favourite dagger out and begins flipping it in a broody manner, that they could take Sharon’s smuggler’s detour behind the wall, but she’d ask too many questions. Sending Redwing on his own is too risky (Sam admits, begrudgingly and in the privacy of his own mind). Clint’s roped into a local problem with a gang of overall-wearing gnomes, Bruce has started teaching a yoga of ogres class, even Joaquin just set up shop marketside selling his scroll encryption services … Sam’s stomach growls, and the lingering smell of spiced rice hits his nose. Sarah’s left a potfull on the stove, for them, probably. She blusters plenty, has real right to be angry plenty, and has a mean right hook, but she loves him. And she’s a lot tougher than she looks, Sam’s come to realize. Kept this whole village alive over the years with her caring, and even after they set up the blockades she charmed the border officers better than Sam or Bucky ever could.

Sam clicks his tongue against his teeth and says, “Huh.”

“What,” says Bucky.

“Lemme run a hypothetical by you.”

“Oh no.” Bucky rubs a finger over the bridge of his nose. “You always do this to me. I started like that once –”

“And have had many terrible no good get Sam’s ass in trouble plans since, brother.” Sam crosses his arms; Rewind flaps over to his little perch by the bookshelf in deference. “Hypothetically, you don’t have to look like yourself. Right?”

Bucky looks at him warily. “Well … no.”

“And … hypothetically –”

“Sam …”

“If a familiar person, say … the nice lady who used to take her gumbo to the community house every week. Was to have that bracelet in her box the next time she went –”

“You wanna send your sister through the woods on her own in this economy?” Bucky interrupts, baffled.  

Sam lifts his chin. Raises his eyebrows. Wags his head a little bit. Chirp, says Redwing from across the room, which Sam might roughly translate to it’s not rocket science, pal.

It takes Bucky a moment to get it, but when it clicks, it’s obvious.

“Oh, no,” he says, a slow horror growing in his face. “No. No, no, no, no way. I refuse, Sam.”

“I haven’t asked anything yet!” Sam says, very mildly put out.

Bucky levels the pointy end of the dagger at him. “No. You’re not entrusting me as the sole keeper of your sister’s safety in the wilderness!”

Sam leans back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “And who the hell else am I gonna entrust as the sole keeper of my sister’s safety in the wilderness?” Bucky makes a disbelieving little cawing noise, like a sad crow, to which Sam adds, deliberate: “Come on, Buck. Be serious.”

Bucky does not answer, as he seems to go through twelve different emotions at once, silently. Sam, who can acknowledge at sword-point that this is maybe a little mean of him, given Bucky’s profound loyalty to his friends and poorly-concealed devotion to said sister (hmph), gives him a minute. Finally, Bucky manages, 

“Anyone! Someone who didn’t spend the last eighty years magically entrapped by a cabal of fascist wizards in the body of a murderous rabid animal!” 

He waves his free hand, which was previously clutched in his hair for something to do. He’d look a bit wild if he didn’t look so thoroughly mundane sitting there in his shirts with his boots off. 

Well, okay. The knife’s a little intense. But it’s not like Sarah’s kitchen isn’t stacked with em.

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay, first of all. Rabid is just flat out inaccurate.”

“Sam,” Bucky grinds out.

“I’m just sayin’,” Sam says. “You’re not diseased. And like, present day wolf you can even be kinda cute. You seen how fluffy you are? Those sheep definitely did.”

Bucky actually growls at him.

“That doesn’t actually dispute my point,” says Sam, “which is that this, right here, is objectively our best plan.”

“I won’t do it.”

“I’m asking you, Bucky.”

“It’s a terrible plan!”

“Says the guy who only ever comes up with the most unhinged plans ever!”

They glare at each other, for a prolonged, stone-headed moment. Sam thinks that next time he tells the kids a bedtime story, he should include a Mexican standoff somewhere in there. Then Bucky raises the knife again, very very slowly.

“Only if Sarah says yes.”

“Which,” Sam agrees, “is extremely unlikely. If magic could be wrapped up in a tiny little football, she’d probably drop kick that thing into the Mississippi like a quarterback.”

Marginally, Bucky’s face relaxes.

“Yeah,” he says, and now Sam is starting to feel some relief too, because really, what the hell is he thinking? Sending his baby sister out into the wilderness so they can all uncover some great conspiracy … “Yeah. Yeah, okay. If she says yes, I’ll do it.”

And then, of course, she does.

[r6shippingdelivery]

I think about Smoke too much and my well of ideas is running dry. Do you have any headcanons about Smoke?

I'm sorry nonnie, most of my HCs come from when I write the charactes and put them in situations, or based on snippets of lore we might get. And I don't write Smoke that much, and his recent-ish lore with the whole NH thing made me not like him as much as before 😅

I can give you old HCs I had about him tho, but the probability you've heard about those before is high:

When his elite came out, we got a piece of concept art of him saving a kid from a house fire. I like to think he eventually adopted that kid when he learnt she had no family left. And that's how he got his daughter.

The scar on the back of his head? He got that also during that incident, when jumping out of a window, there were still some pieces of glass in there and one cut his scalp.

I feel like, due to his work (long and suddent deployments/missions) and being a single dad, his daughter basically lives with his parents and he comes visit whenever he's able.

He's the kind of parent that, if his daughter expressed an interest in drugs, he'd give her detailed advice on what and how to try based on his own experiences. Same for drinking, and the sex talk probably. And while he's trying to be helpful and be sure she'll be safe trying that stuff, for a teenager those conversations would be the best deterrent to not do those things, imo 😂

The White Masks somehow found part of his research and the gas they used in Bartlett University looks so much like Smoke's cause it was the same chemical agent. He was very pissed they discovered his work and used it for that, so the fight agains the White Masks was lowkey personal to him.

The incident about his uni burning down he references in one of his voicelines? He was definitely involved in that, a prank gone wrong.

He is lowkey jealous of Mute, since Thatcher seems to have him in a high regard even when he's rude or dimissive. Meanwhile, Smoke feels Thatcher doesn't afford him the same leeway/grace he does to Mute, and berates him a lot more often.

He is a hard person to get close to, due to his flippant attitude when dealing with people, and because he is reckless and kinda inconstant in his actions. I think he has attachement/setting down issues, which were slightly mellowed by him becoming a dad but are still pretty present.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome.  💖

...

It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side. 

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her  whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

[imtheiliad]

this is me asking very very nicely for you to pretty please share those snippets

<3 includes buck going off on his parents which would be 100% justified even without this little tweak in the universe and buck very much does not forgive them in this universe because of that. I started this like immediately post buck begins/ during the midseason hiatus and was like the first thing i sunk my teeth into in terms of writing. i was going through it at this time- so i put buck through it too. because at the time i was a buck girlie (gn) (rip to that era of my life). i personally do not have experience with losing a child but i have raw and trauma filled experiences with grief and losing someone too early so i channeled that in there and much of the pain that buck talks about is based on my own so yeah...

tw: discussions of infant death (specifically SIDS but not specified in the snippets)

“I had a daughter. She would have been 6 this year. Don’t look at me like that.”  He clipped, looking in his parents direction through sharp eyes. “That's why I never told you because I knew you would just look through me and be disappointed, just another one of Evan’s screw-ups. But once I got to know her, in the short time we had, I knew you didn’t deserve to know. I know that especially now. You do not get to sit there and tell me what kind of pain you have been in because I know. I know what it’s like to lose a piece of your fucking soul and know that it was too soon. And at least you got to say goodbye.” he almost regretted saying that, but he pressed on.

“And my closest friends, my family, didn’t know about her until now, thanks for that by the way, this is not how I wanted to tell them.” The Buckleys flinched a little at the implications. His family on the other hand just grew even more protective over their youngest member as he kept baring his soul. 

“ I never erased her, I never made anyone lie about her. I never lied about her. I think about her everyday, I talk to her mom when I can. And furthermore you do not get to sit there and tell me about what I went through with Christopher. I had to look in my best friend's eyes, fully believing that I was about to tell him that his worst nightmare had come true, and that it was my fault. I thank god every single fucking day that Eddie doesn’t know this pain.” He realized that his train of thought had wandered to Eddie as it usually did, especially when he was in need of comfort. He glanced in the older man’s direction and caught the mixture of shock, confusion and empathy that radiated off of his best friend. He took a deep breath to get himself back on track, “And I do love Christopher as a son. And losing Ava has never got in the way of that, if anything it has made what I have with Chris that much more precious to me, and that’s how I know that you messed up. That’s how I can call bullshit on your excuses. That’s why I won’t sit here and let you diminish my love for Chris, or dismiss my experiences when you never even bothered to be here for me at all. I will sympathize with your grief, but you have other children who needed you. I will never forgive you for looking straight through me, for not loving me. Be there for Maddie. But don’t try and be there for me now. That ship sailed a long time ago. I thought I might be ready to finally reconcile with you over how you have treated me my entire life and for some reason give you a chance. But I can’t, not now.” The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and he began to lose momentum as he reached the end of what he wanted to say.

---this takes place later after shift in the loft---

“Will you tell me about her?” Eddie asked after nearly 5 minutes. 

“I can show you pictures. Let’s go to the couch,” his voice and demeanor were much more Buck-like now. 

Eddie made his way to the living room area and sat down. 

Buck reached onto one of the bookshelves below the tv and produced a small chest like box and sat down next to Eddie and handed it to him. 

Eddie gingerly opened the box and inside rested a soft pink photo album, a tiny hospital bracelet, the tiniest baby hat he had ever seen, and one bootie. “Ava” was painted in a beautiful purple script on the inside of the top. 

“Her mom has the other one, she wore them home from the hospital.” Buck said, pointing at  the tiny bootie. He picked up the photo album and handed it to Eddie. 

The First page read “Ava Rose Warren-Buckley August 19, 2015 - December 21, 2015” 

“Is that why you got the rose on your chest?” Eddie asked, referencing the rose tattoo that was placed over his heart that he had seen in the locker room. 

“Yeah. We both got one. We wanted to give her shorter names cause our last names were so long,” Buck said as he watched Eddie read the page. 

Eddie ran a thumb over the words and nodded his head. He turned the page. 

The first few pages were filled with ultrasound captures and pictures of a pregnant woman, she had long red hair that fell around her shoulders in curls, and a smile that nearly rivaled Buck’s in brightness. Buck was in a couple as well kissing her cheek or smiling. Both were so filled youth, the glow radiating from them. 

“Thea,” Buck supplied her name, “We were so happy, we were gonna get married once Ava got a little older. I kinda can’t believe I was even thinking about marriage that young, but at the time it felt right.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, “You said that you didn’t know for awhile?” 

“Yeah,” he rubbed his neck anxiously, “I was sort of traveling the country after being kicked out of college and running from my parents. I landed in [place] and i guess there was something about it cause it was the first place that i actually made some friends and Thea and I were more like friends with benefits at first. You know how your twenties are,” Eddie shook his head, “right, uh, anyway one second she was talking to me every day, the next she disappeared. Her leaving made me realize that I loved her, still do in some way, but I wanted to give her the space she needed and then she showed up at my door, it’s kind of a miracle I was still living the same place at that point,  a few months later, pregnant, and it was easy. So we settled down. We were so happy.” 

“I can see that.” Eddie’s own self hatred and guilt bubbled low under the surface. He had stolen that from Shannon  and Christopher. Had stolen it from himself. 

The next few pages were of Ava in the NICU. The one that stood out to Eddie was one of Buck, who looked different, older, than the previous pages, exhausted- his mop of curls somewhat unwieldy, worry lines etched in his forehead, bags under his eyes, sitting shirtless in a hospital chair with a tiny baby in his arms, wires trailing off her connected to a machine just out of frame. Buck wasn’t looking at the camera. He only had eyes for Ava. Eddie would recognize that look anywhere, it was the same way Buck looked at Chris. 

There were pictures of the little family arriving home, the parents looking exhausted but relieved and happy. 

There was a classic shot of Buck holding Ava, looking at the camera helplessly, while Ava had her face scrunched up and bright red, clearly letting out a piercing scream. 

Another classic shot of Buck passed out on a bed with Ava knocked out in his chest, his arms around her protectively. 

There were photos in every permutation of the 3 family members, demonstrating how happy and content they were. 

The last picture was of both Buck and Thea on a bed, Ava between them, smiling,  both of them staring at her with so much love. 

And that’s where it ended. 

Eddie looked over at Buck, who was fiddling with his watch. 

“We still loved each other, but we just couldn’t go on without her. Losing her, it broke both of us, changed us so much that we knew that we could never truly be happy together after that.” He said, taking off his watch, “So I traveled a little more and then landed out here. And I got this just before I started at the fire academy.” He showed Eddie his wrist where he had a tattoo that Eddie had never seen before, “Ava” in a neat cursive script. “Once Chimney saw it, and offered a tattoo removal place he had heard about, thinking it was an old girlfriend. I just left the locker room. I felt really bad about that. But I had just met them, they weren’t my family yet. They still saw me as this young reckless kid who slept around and made mistakes. Which almost felt freeing. So I played into it to make myself feel better. And I guess, until today, none of the opportunities I had felt right.”

“You know, being a dad really looks good on you.” Eddie paused, glanced at Buck who was focused on his wrist, his thumb brushing over the letters, “Would you do it again? Could You?”

“Depends on the person.” Buck replied, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“What about with me?” Eddie supplied, almost surprising himself with the question. 

Buck’s eyes snap up instantly, meeting Eddie’s for the first time all day. 

“In a heartbeat.” he replied softly, but with a force of love behind each word.

---and buck telling maddie---

“So, first off, I want to say that I forgive you for keeping Daniel a secret. I really do understand how that sort of thing gets pushed for a better time. I just, can you promise to forgive me too?” 

Maddie’s face is filled with concern and questions, “Okay. I promise.” She replies and holds out her pinky. Buck smiles a little and links his pinky in hers. He takes a deep breath, clears his throat a little, and reaches into his pocket. Unsure of how to begin his story without riding a high of adrenaline or in a therapist's office, he hands a picture to Maddie. It’s a bit worn from its home in his pants pocket or gym bag. But the image is clear. It’s a picture of a young Buck holding a tiny bundle of blankets, tiny face peeking out. Hospital bracelet still around his wrist, and harried look still etching his face 

“Buck? Who...” 

“I wanted to tell you. I actually did. But I think Doug got to those letters before you did. And then when you came here, I wanted to tell you, but then Doug showed up, and there were too many natural disasters, and I was crushed by a ladder truck, and then Eddie almost died, then to top it all off there’s a pandemic, and you were pregnant. And scared. There never seemed to be time. But then-” 

“Daniel.”

“And I felt like such a hypocrite. That and Mom and Dad showed up at the station and I kinda exploded on them. So Chimney already knows and well, he's kept his share of secrets.” 

Maddie didn’t need Buck to say the words, she knew, “The baby is-”

“My daughter.”

“And she….” 

Buck just looked at her, finally letting the pain reach his eyes for the first time in years. He expected a look of pity and hurt from Maddie. But she was looking at him. Really seeing him. 

“Of course I forgive you. I know I said I would, but-”

“Thank you.” and Buck could breathe again. "Can you tell me about him?"

[from-a-reckless-writer]

read on ao3

Kara’s time in the Phantom Zone has always been labeled into two parts. The Going There and The Leaving. In part, because those two things are the things that she was coherent enough to remember but mostly because she doesn’t like remembering the time in between.

Not liking it, was an understatement. Kelly would probably call it trauma. Yeah. That was the word. Trauma. It was 24 years of traumatic experience but it was easier to just refer to it as The Going There and The Leaving. Simply put, just a part 1 and a part 2.

Kara didn’t even know when The Going There began. All this time she thought, Krypton exploding behind her pod was the beginning of it. But later, when her aunt comes back for her, when an entire fleet comes for her new planet, when her hero dies by the hand of her sister, she will learn: The Going There started the moment her mother thought of using Kara to arrest her aunt. That realization was something she didn’t like. Some days she wishes she’d never come to that realization at all.

The beginning of The Leaving on the other hand was something she was awake to remember. She remembers the rumbling, she remembers the hum of the engines as it powers up, she remembers the pod slowly coming to life and then the whoosh!.

The exhilarating, wondrous woosh! that roared into Kara’s ears. Filling her with hope after sleeping a slumber of despair for so long. Of course, she wouldn’t know that ‘so long’ would translate to 24 years till she arrives on Earth and Kal rips her door open. Of course, the hope wasn’t replaced with the utter feeling of failure and defeat, till Kal flies away from her. Some days she wishes she was never awake for any of it.

There were two parts to Kara’s experience in the Phantom Zone; The Going There and The Leaving.

She’d never expected that there would be a Return.

******

Loss was something the universe had given Kara at 14 years of age. Others received dreams or new siblings but Kara? The universe handed her loss and then left quickly before answering any of her questions. The universe handed her the burden of an annihilated planet’s legacy, a race of dead people that only she can remember.

It was something she’d learned to live with, had moulded into her every day life, a permanent mark on her soul.

In her hands loss used to be a strange thing.

She used to be a daughter of one of the respectable families of Krypton. A high born. The progeny to Zor-El’s brilliance, the successor of the El’s legacy. She had never known loss, until one day she woke up and nothing was left. At first, she didn't know what to do with it except for crying and screaming and waking the entire house of a family she didn’t belong with, night after night after night. But soon, it became a part of her, became a kindling to a roaring fire.

Nobody had expected the last daughter of Krypton to burn, but when she did, it was brilliant and bold and the world had stood in awe of her flames.

And so, as she watched herself lose her father for the second time. She snatched loss from the universe’s hands before it even had the chance to hand it to her, she snatched it and claimed it for her own. That was where this was going all along wasn’t it?

Another loss, another mark, another kindling.

The only difference this time though, was, she isn’t sure whether she wants to burn brilliant, bright and bold or set the entire universe on fire for what it’s done to her for the second time around.

These were the thoughts that chased each other around in her head as she breathed heavily; sagging against the walls of a cave she’d found shelter in. Aside from misery and agony, caves are also one of the most abundant things in the Phantom Zone. The jagged spikes and hard rocks are slowly becoming home to her now.

No, not home. This isn’t home. Home is-

And then her brain stalled. Home is…

Home is?

Home is—

It felt like a headache was ripping her skull. The more she thought about it the more it hurt.

She knows where home is. Home isn’t this place, home is— home is— home is—

It was at the tip of her tongue at the edge of her brain.

She can’t remember. Didn’t she just see home not 30 minutes ago? An hour ago? Two seconds ago? Time doesn’t pass the same way, her brain throws at her and the pain starts anew.

But she refuses to give in. She knows where home is. Home is...is...is

NOONAN’S!

Noonan’s is home! Or at least, it was a part of it??? Kara thinks and thinks and thinks.

And for a moment, Kara could swear that she smells the familiar aroma of coffee beans and sweet sugar in the air but then the thought vanishes just as quickly as it came.

She was grasping at the edges of that little snippet. She tries to picture the logo of the store, tries to recite the branches littered around National City, tries to remember how she had worked there once, tries to remember her order, tries to remember Alex’s order.

Alex!!!! Her brain lights up at the thought.

Alex is home too.

At this point, the pain was unbearable, she was barely breathing. It feels as if the more she’s trying to remember, the more something, someone?? Is blocking her. The chances of it being something seems more likely than it being a someone.

She remembers her father’s words of warning from just days before. Hours before?? Weeks before?

Before.

Just before she’s lost him again.

How this place will drive you to the brink of insanity, Kara held her tongue but she wanted to scream that she knew that. She knew what the Phantom Zone did to people. She knew what it had done to all those Fort Rozz escapees, what it had done to Astra, what it had done to her. She was fucking insane for 24 years! 14 year olds weren’t supposed to go through that.

The worst part is, it was her parents who put her there, her mother, her father. The same father she mourned and who not only minutes ago was telling her to give it up.

The same father she’s lost, again.

Pain flares at the back of her head, from her nape slowly snaking its way to behind her eyes. Kara suspects it’s something to do with the cave and the silver glow around the cave’s awning that she’s only just now noticing.

But it was too late now. Too late to get out nor to retreat even further. She has used the last ounce of energy she has in that fight with Nyx and this headache was only making her weaker. Headache, feels too juvenile a word to describe this feeling, this cleaving of her mind from the inside.

Alex, caramel macchiato and sticky buns were the last thoughts in her head before everything turned dark.

******

She steps out of the portal and the moment her foot touches The Tower, weapons and superpowers alike suddenly poise to strike at her.

Until, Alex whispers, “Kara,” lowers her gun slowly, arms shaking from shock and then she loses track of who crashes unto who first.

Just that she’s home and Alex is sobbing but so was she, and she’s never seen J’onn cry like this before but he cradles her and his sobs rumble out of his chest and into Kara. She can feel it rumbling between their embrace. The three of them stay in that position for what feels like hours until the voices of the others filter through and then next thing she knows M’gann is hugging her.

Brainy lifts her off the ground and it should surprise her that he could do that, but it doesn't. It feels like the most natural thing in the world as Kara laughs and Nia squeals at Brainy to put Kara down so she can hug her too. Nia’s squeals turn into quiet emotional sniffles the minute Kara’s arms wrap around her. And in that moment Kara realizes it isn’t just one sister she lost for a while there, she lost Nia too.

And then, her eyes land to the person in the back of the room. The person who didn’t run at her like the others. Whose heartbeat is now thundering so loud in Kara’s ears, now that her eyes have found her.

Lena.

She looks as beautiful as ever and Kara feels her heart swell so hard she fears it could burst. For a moment, she thinks she’s survived the Phantom Zone just so Lena Luthor could kill her with one look.

The moment their eyes meet, Lena’s body lurches forward only to stop awkwardly halfway through, leaving her standing there, twiddling her fingers, eyes shining with tears, her whole frame shaking from holding back.

Kara is two steps away from running to her and she was absolutely going to. She realizes Lena is doing the thing she does best.

Shrinking herself.

Kara was about to run to her—

But a shrill ringing breaks through their staredown, Lena breaks away from Kara’s gaze to look at her phone and then she is turning away; phone to her ear.

Later, Kara will think she should’ve run after Lena. She should’ve run after Lena, snatched the phone away from her and wrapped her arms so tight around her and told her how much she loved her, how much she missed her, how hard she fought just to see her again.

If she did, maybe they wouldn’t be here now. They wouldn’t be running inside an abandoned warehouse, trying to find where Lex had hidden Lena.

She wouldn’t be too late.

Maybe, if Kara did things a lot more different, she wouldn’t be here now; clutching Lena’s broken, bloody body to her chest and screaming at the sky.

How dare the universe hand her another loss?

******

When she opens her eyes, she gasps out Lena’s name. She jerks so suddenly, her head hits a low stalagmite and rattles the ground she’s currently lain on.

It takes her a long time to collect her bearings. She stares long and hard at her hands. It felt so real.

Lena’s blood on her hands. Lena’s pale face getting paler and paler. Lena dying.

She gets approximately two minutes of reprieve. These 120 seconds she uses to breathe in deep, lets herself feel the extent of her fear. The anger seeps deep into her bones but it was nothing compared to the grief in her heart at the thought of losing Lena.

Lena!!! Her brain screams, LENA IS HOME!!! Lena is ho—

And then the moment the thought comes barreling at her, the pain returns. It returns tenfold and Kara doesn’t even try to move.

She knows what’s going to happen next.

******

Alex finds her unconscious on the ground.

She yells for back-up in her comms.

Dreamer and Brainy and J’onn run to the portal.

J’onn fends off the Phantoms circling Kara long enough for Dreamer to create one of her forcefield tunnels in order to get Kara from the ground and unto the portal entrance unharmed.

These are the things they will tell her once she wakes up.

They will tell her how hard it had been for everyone, how perpetually dim those days without Kara were.

Kara will cry upon hearing all of it. She will cry because she saw her father again and she couldn’t save him, she will cry because why does it always keep happening to her?

What could she have possibly done to the universe that it would give her something this cruel?

She will cry because it’s been so long since she’s heard Alex’s voice and now she is right here, telling Kara that she did nothing wrong, that the universe just sucks. But it’s okay, because the universe can suck all it wants and Alex will always be there through all the sucky parts.

After the teary reunion, Brainy will come running into the room, just as the two of them are untangling from their embrace.

Brainy will then tell them that Sentinel needs to suit up. Brainy will be too emotional to say the words, “It’s Lena- Lena has- Lena’s been-”

“Brainy what is it? What's wrong with Lena?”

M’gann will say it for him.

“Lena has been killed.”

Kara will cry and cry and cry.

******

You know that painful lump in your throat that makes it hard for you to breathe because you are holding your sobs in?

That was how Kara woke up, with a painful lump in her throat that made her want to throw up. She didn’t even get to see her this time. She just woke up to a world where Lena was killed, and all she could do was cry about it.

And so, she cried. She cried and cried and cried and punched the walls of that cave. She screamed so loud and let the echoes of her screams resonate all around the hollow space.

The hollow space so similar to the chasm inside Kara’s chest.

Her screaming is cut off by a sharp pain shooting from her temple and immediately spreading. This time, the spread was much faster than the last. It knocks the breath out of Kara, steals the voice out of her shout and makes her submit.

She curls into herself. She struggles to fight off the call of slumber. Her eyes close against her wishes.

******

There are no portals this time.

All Kara remembers is that she touched a glowing stone on the murky soil west of her cave and then the next moment she is standing in The Tower.

Something was wrong.

Kara knew something was wrong, because the moment she was zapped in. Alex didn’t come running to her. Nobody did. They just stared at her. All of them wearing black.

“I’m back, I-I’m home.”

It alarms her that she felt the need to verbally say it. J’onn comes up to her, “Kara,” he says and he swallows, puts a hand on her shoulder.

J’onn looks like he’s going to tell her something. And that this something isn’t easy for J’onn to say. Alex takes one look at J’onn, realizes what J’onn was going to do and walks out.

“Wait— Alex! What- Where are you— J’onn what is happening?”

She wishes she never asked.

******

She wakes up again. This time she doesn’t bother to get up, doesn’t try to scream, doesn’t try to cry.

She just lays there.

The ceiling of the cave is the same shade of grey as of Lena Luthor’s tombstone. Never would she have thought that Lena Luthor and tombstone would be two things she says in the same sentence. It was J’onn who flew her there. In the dream? In the vision?? Kara doesn’t know anymore and frankly, Kara doesn’t care anymore.

Somebody left plumerias at the foot of her grave.

Plumerias.

Plumerias, like her mother’s favorite flower. Like—

Like the one in Lena’s office.

Like the one back home.

Home.

She lets the dark claim her willingly.

******

The Tower is destroyed. There are no survivors. Just Kara. Standing there in the ruins of what once used to be their hideout. Behind her the still gaping portal is blowing puffs of cold air from the Phantom Zone.

******

It’s Alex, this time. A role reversal. Lena breaks the news to her.

“S-she died, Kara. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kara wants to die too.

******

It’s Lena and Alex.

Kara wants to laugh.

Of course, there would be a version where both Alex and Lena would be taken away from her. There was already a version where nobody survived. Why not this one too, right?

She should’ve known.

******

Eventually, she comes to one where it’s her who dies.

Isn’t it funny? That the thing she’s wanted—has been begging for—has come to life right in front of her, and Kara realizes, turns out it wasn’t what she wanted after all.

From where she's fallen on the ground she sees Alex bark orders. She hears hysterical screaming. She feels Lena kneel by her side.

Nia is slowly crumbling next to Alex’s side; she’s removed her Dreamer mask to let her tears flow freely.

“Don’t leave us, please, don’t leave us. Fight back, goddamnit, Kara fight back! We just got you back. Please, please, Kara, please. Not yet.”

She feels Lena’s tears fall down on her own cheeks.

She looks beautiful even with tears in her eyes.

Kara wishes she can move her thumb to wipe the tears from Lena’s eyes.

******

“I found her!”

Nia shoots up from where she was sleeping. Alex runs into the room. Brainy steps aside and lets her punch in the coordinates.

“Where is she?” Lena asks, suddenly materializing out of nowhere, startling Nia, green eyes frantically darting around at the monitor, waiting for the map to appear.

“There!” Nia shouts and points. There’s a little red dot blinking on the screen.

Lena shoves her, fingers flying across the console, zooms in and makes a 3 dimensional version of the landscape appear.

It’s a cave.

Kara’s inside a cave.

“I believe that’s what the Klamarian’s refer to as Caverna Tim-or,” Brainy states upon closer inspection.

They hadn’t noticed Alex behind them already gearing up.

“Then what are you nerds gawking around there for?! Suit up. Come on, let’s go!”

It spurs the whole team into action.

Nia was already in her Dreamer suit. She’s been sleeping in it for 2 nights in a row, now. Refusing to be woken up, just getting up to eat a power bar or to go to the bathroom. It was slowly nagging at Brainy, the way Nia wouldn’t move for extended periods of time until she jerks awake, exhausted and depleted from overusing her powers.

But this time, this time Nia doesn’t feel tired at all. She is pumped. She is hyped. She knows where Kara Danvers Zor-El is and they will bring her home.

The only one not running about the place in a flurry of guns, ammo and armor is Lena.

She is sitting perfectly still, in front of her monitor. She has to stay back, that has been the plan. If they ever find Kara’s coordinates, someone has to stay back and prepare The Tower for their return.

Lena knew it was going to be her. She didn’t have training to fight. She didn’t have any powers. All she knows is to throw a punch and she guesses that wouldn’t be helpful when faced with soul sucking creatures.

So, there she stays; controlling everything with her just a flick of her fingertips.

Besides, all their suits wouldn’t be upgraded if it weren’t for her. It was fine that she had to stay. She’s waited for Kara long enough, what’s a few more minutes of holding down the fort, right?

******

Lena might not have superpowers but she’s been gifted with enough intelligence to build the Superfriends trackers into the fibers of their suit, even have all of them linked directly to Lena’s supercomputer.

The one she’s had installed in The Tower much to J’onn’s protests. Lena didn’t have a job. She didn’t have responsibilities, she didn’t have to wake up at 7, go to work at 8 and be stuck in stuffy meetings.

She has free time and tonnes of money to rebuild The Tower’s entire tech department.

Brainy almost drooled when Lena pitched the plan to the team.

Lena also brought them Jess.

Or rather, Jess brought herself and nobody was man enough to tell her no. Who says no to a formidable American-Asian woman anyway? After Lena had emailed Jess about the recent developments regarding LuthorCorp. Jess had emailed her back almost instantly, telling her that she’s also just turned in her resignation and before she starts applying for another job, she asks, Ms. Luthor, do you need help with anything else?

Lena was floored with the loyalty that Jess had shown her. Instead of replying to the email, Lena called Jess. Upon answering, Jess expected many things from her boss, an eloquent thank you, a huge last pay, but she never expected to hear Lena Luthor sobbing into the line.

Jess asks if she could visit Lena in her flat.

“Like I mean, right now Ms. Luthor.”

“Lena, please, call me Lena.”

“Okay, Lena. Can I please go to your penthouse? Because, no offense, but you obviously do not sound okay, and I think I can help.”

“I’m actually not at my penthouse as of the moment.”

And that was how Jessica Huang was brought into the fold.

And also, if it weren’t for Jess, Lena thinks the rest of them would be lost.

As much as Lena was the brains of this operation, logically and legally speaking she wasn’t doing well.

The woman wasn’t eating and sleeping for fuck’s sake. For a woman who built a state of the art tech system in under three days, you’d think she’d realize that humans need to be healthy in order to function.

And so, it was Jess who handled Lena like she's done so many times before, handled all finances, handled all the press that all of them were bringing unto themselves. Jess enforced a No Flying Through the Balcony Unless Absolutely Necessary Rule and thus far it has worked.

Nobody was also allowed to use the main entrance. Only J’onn, the owner of the building, was allowed to be seen coming and going.

There were rag reporters at every turn and just one photograph of Dreamer, Sentinel and Guardian all going into the same building, would be a catastrophe. The young woman wanted to tear her hair out when she pointed it out and everyone was like, “Oh, yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Oh my god, yes, that makes sense.” As if the thought had never occurred to any of them before. Although, they were distracted with tracking a missing hero after all. So, Jess lets it go. She just shakes her head and makes sure each one of them has access to the secret entrance Lena designed.

Jess had also taken the time to go into the building opposite them, talked to the tenants and bought their silence. And then at the last minute, Jess thought, Hm, why not buy the whole block's silence?

The last thing these people—this team—needs right now, is a media frenzy.

She’s had enough practice with the youngest Luthor on that front.

Jess was also the one who organized them into shifts, pushed Alex to try to find a job at a local research center or even teach a bunch of self-defense classes. She made Nia go to CatCo on time and actually monitored all her deadlines, told J’onn to go do his private investigation stuff and made Lena eat three meals a day and sleep for about 6 hours every night.

Her and Kelly shepherded the team into a more reasonable routine.

Alex took the longest to warm up to her, though. Until the day Lena and Alex had a fight on whether or not they should tell Eliza.

It was a brutal screaming match.

Alex shouting that Lena has no right telling her what to do when it comes to her own mother. Lena screaming back that Alex has an obligation to tell her mother what really happened to Kara.

They all knew what it was really about, though. It was about Alex still being in denial. It was about Alex’s fear of Eliza labelling her a failure for not protecting her younger sister.

She didn’t want to tell Eliza. Because telling your mother news is one of the best ways to make that news a reality.

It was Jess who offered to find accommodations for Eliza once Alex finally found the courage and called her.

She bought Alex a six-pack of her favorite beer and sat with her till 4 am.

“Just once,” Jess says, “You get to drink this away, just once. And then you talk to Kelly about it, okay? I know we’re not really close, but well, I’m no stranger to family drama.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

Jess was not a stranger to loss too. She knows none of them are in their right minds with Kara gone. Everything happened so fast. And it really didn’t help that on every billboard and every LuthorCorp commercial you’ll hear about how perfectly perfect Lex Luthor is.

Everything happened so fast that Lena didn’t even question when she had known about Kara being Supergirl.

As if a ponytail and glasses would ever fool her, not to mention she’d seen Kara use a bit of superspeed now and again when she thought her best friend’s secretary wasn’t looking.

And so, the moment the Superfriends left for the Phantom Zone to find Kara. Lena Luthor immediately dialed one of her most trusted people in the world.

“Jess, I need you in The Tower, now.”

******

In twenty minutes, Lena was monitoring the team’s progress a thousand lightyears away, in the other room Eliza and Jess were preparing the med bed and the sunlamps.

It is now, in this moment, that it sinks in to her. This is real. This is real, they’re really bringing Kara back. They’ve found a way to find Kara, built a safe transport system into the Phantom Zone and if things go well, in less than fifteen minutes she will see Kara in the flesh again.

And she can’t help but feel the stirrings of fear begin in the pit of her stomach.

Sure, Kara had said that she trusts her again, but where exactly do they stand?

Does she even have the privilege of Kara’s friendship? Or are they merely allies?

It’s ironic, Lena knows exactly where her place is with the Superfriends, it took a long time and a lot of long talks but Lena now knows without a doubt that she belongs here, but well, now she doesn’t know where she belongs when it comes to Kara.

Kara’s been coaxing her to join them for years and now that Lena has, she’s now uncertain of their friendship with each other.

That’s always been the question with Kara isn’t it?

Are we really friends?

The red dot on the screen is joined by six more others on Lena’s screen.

They’ve arrived. They’ve located Kara. They’re right there with her right now.

Lena’s heart starts to race in her chest as the moment.

She tries not to imagine what Kara looks like once they find her there.

She tries not to imagine all the times she’s had nightmares about her being the one who finds Kara in the Phantom Zone.

Nia has been learning to project her dreams. Lena’s seen glimpses of what that piece of the universe looked like. She didn’t like what she saw, not one bit. She remembers how casually Kara had talked about it.

Whenever Alex asks Nia to project her dreams or asks Brainy to run the simulators, Lena walks out.

She takes it as her cue to leave. Don’t get it wrong it isn’t that Lena is afraid of the Phantom Zone. Oh no, if she could she had long rode a rocket ship there and rescued Kara.

It’s the visual coupled with the feeling of powerlessness along with the thought that Kara is out there, she’s there in that hell in outer space and it’s all Lena’s fault that she can’t stand.

That last one took a long time to shake off, it took a lot more than shaking off actually.

So, Lena leaves when they start to explore more about the Phantom Zone in VR and Nia’s dreams. She gets all of her information about the place, reading atlases from Brainy’s 31st century archives and other alien records, instead.

She has no idea what her friends are seeing there right now, what kind of creatures and all kinds of traps are set up for them. She hopes and prays to whoever it is up there that they bring Kara safe. That none of them gets hurt in the process.

She prays her family returns home to her in one piece.

******

Lena was brilliant enough to fix their suits with trackers that can remain linked back to her even if they were literally in outer space, but she didn’t have enough time to build a secure communication link.

Which means that the three of them, Eliza, Jess and her are staring at the screen. Watching seven multicolored dots move across the map, while they hear absolutely no news of how the team is doing.

The red one, Kara, remains unmoving, Lena notices, while the other colors circle around her. Lena does not want to think of the implications of that visual.

It either means Kara has been seriously injured and isn’t well enough to fight or Kara is…

She doesn’t dare finish that thought.

No, they will bring Kara home. They’ve got two Martians, a twelfth-level intellect Coluan, a human-Naltorian hybrid and two of the most elite human soldiers to fight for Kara.

They will save her, not to mention all of them are armed with tech made by Lena Luthor. There is no way Kara wouldn’t return home if she knew how hard they’ve been fighting.

Eliza must’ve noticed how tight she’s been gripping the edge of the console, because the older woman puts a hand atop hers.

“They’re going to be fine. We’re going to get them back. Don’t worry.”

Lena gives her a smile.

And then a portal opens in the middle of the room.

A strong woosh! comes out of the portal and immediately the three of them are running to the center of the room.

Inside, Lena sees Nia holding an entire ten yards of force field between where she's standing and the entrance of the portal.

J’onn is zipping around them fast, throwing off and assaulting Phantoms, Brainy is holding the portal open and there, in a dark awning of a cave she sees Kelly shielding Alex and M’gann.

A figure on the ground. Kara.

There was Kara. Kara was right there, lying unconscious on the ground and it’s taking every ounce of Lena’s willpower to not barrel through and carry her back here herself.

What good would she be if those creatures catch her? So, she stays there and she shouts, “Brainy, do you need help getting the portal stable?! I can hook you up to a closer power source if you keep it open long enough till all of you get back here!”

Brainy shouts something back but he is being drowned by the howling wind, so Lena takes it upon herself to do what she told Brainy.

Runs to the console with shaky fingers and with just a series of clicks and codes the portal opens much brighter and glows much more stable.

“THANK YOU!”

She hears Brainy shout and she smiles. Until she hears Nia say something that sounds like -can’t keep it up any longer, Alex! Alex! Now!

And then M’gann is heaving Kara unto her shoulders and Alex and Kelly are running for the portal, J’onn covering the four of them, Brainy waiting for Nia.

For a moment, Lena thinks, “This. This is what my life has become. I have alien friends. We are saving a superhero and there is a portal right in front of me right now. This is my life now.”

She shakes that epiphany out of her head

Alex sees her mother and shouts, “Mom, gurney! Gurney, she’s unconscious!”

Jess and Eliza run to fetch the gurney and Lena meets the four of them at the portal’s opening.

God, Kara was so pale, she was so pale being carried like that on M’gann’s back. Her cape is in tatters and her suit is soiled and dirty, there were cuts all around and her face, her wondrous beautiful face was so grimy and so was her hair.

There was nothing else in the world Lena wanted more than to cradle Kara in her arms.

******

Kara’s consciousness comes to her slowly; piece by piece. A bright light, a buzzing room, the quiet hum of an air-conditioner, and oh, her back is on a mattress, a soft, soft mattress. It makes her want to cry. She’s been sleeping on rocks for so long, she’s forgotten what mattresses feel like.

Her eyes remain closed but she’s lucid enough that she can decipher the buzz into separate voices.

“I cannot believe you didn’t change out of your suit! What did I tell you about hygiene and rest?”

“But, Jess— “

That was weird, was that Nia and Jess? What was Jess doing here?

For a brief window of a second, Kara’s heart drops. She’s in another dream-vision. She’s in—

“Would the two of you keep it down? Go yell at her in the living room.”

That was Alex. Wait— living room what?

“How’s she doing?”

Eliza! Eliza was here!

“Her vitals are fine, but I don’t think she has her powers. I was able to insert her Dextrose without using the red sunlamps.”

“She didn’t have sun there, honey.”

“I know.”

And then the conversation turns quiet and Kara hears Alex let out a quiet sob.

Then it gets muffled and Kara knows Alex is clinging to their mom. She wants to open her eyes now, she realizes.

So, she does.

She opens her eyes and she gets the frontrow view to Eliza and Alex sharing a teary embrace. Alex sitting down both arms wrapped around Eliza's torso, face soaking her mother's blouse.

“Hey, what about me?”

Her voice sounded scratchy and weak even to her own ears.

Alex breaks away from their mother, turns to look at her, gasps and flings herself forward to hug Kara.

Kara lets out a wet laugh, “I missed you, I really, really missed you, Alex.”

“I missed you too, loser.”

And oh, how she's missed this.

Eliza steps in to give her a hug too and Kara sobs in her arms and she lets herself fall apart in the arms of her mom.

Because that’s what Eliza is to her. A mother.

Her mother.

“Don’t you scare me like that, ever again, you hear me?”

“I promise, never again, Mom.”

It doesn’t matter that all of them know it isn’t true. Kara will be in far more dangerous situations again. Kara will risk her life again and again. But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is she’s safe and Eliza’s asking her to tell her what she wants to hear, even though they all know better.

She still wants to hear it anyway.

“Good,” Eliza says, squeezes her one last time and then pulls back to brush the hair out of her face, “I’m going to get you some food, you must be hungry.”

When Eliza said that, it was like Kara’s body remembered all of its functions likewise all of its needs, she’s never felt this exhausted and this hungry before.

Eliza sees her eyes light up at the mention of food and chuckles before exiting.

And now, it’s just Alex and her.

Her sister doesn’t look good. She looks older somehow. She looks tired.

Not that Kara can blame her, she understands what it must’ve felt like to Alex to lose her in a split second and not see her again for almost—

Her train of thought stops when she realizes she doesn’t know how long she’s been gone.

“How long have I been out?”

“12 hours. You need more hours under the sunlamps, so don’t even think about—”

“No, Alex,” she cuts her off, sits up on the bed, “I mean— I meant to ask, how long was I gone?”

Alex refuses to meet her eyes, swallows hard.

Kara moves her hand over hers and squeezes.

“It’s okay, I’m here now, we can go through it together,” she says and Alex eyes well up in tears again before letting out a strangled, “3 months, Kara. You’ve been gone for 3 months.”

“Oh, Alex, come here.”

At first, the mention of the time doesn’t even bother her, she was more concerned about Alex. She lets her climb in bed with her, careful not to jostle her IV.

Her sister says she's been dehydrated and she needed a boost. Kara knows that it’s no ordinary Dextrose. Lois must’ve given them some of Kal’s stuff from Argo.

They lay side by side in that cramped bed and Alex catches her up on everything.

And then and only then, does Kara realize she’s missed 3 months of her life.

“How’s Kelly?” she asks, not for her but for Alex because she’s missed the way her sister's eyes light up when she’s talking about the person she loves and besides, Kara doesn’t really want to talk about her side.

And so, Alex tells her that Kelly is now Guardian, and then she tells her—albeit more shyly—that she also has a hero name now.

Sentinel.

Kara likes the sound of that.

“It suits you,” she tells her, “You’ve always watched over me.”

“Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eliza finds them like that, feeds Kara soup and she's taken in approximately 20 swallows before she passes out again.

******

The next time Kara wakes, everybody is there.

Brainy bought her 3 dozens of donuts, Nia brought her flowers, Kelly bought her potstickers.

All of those made her cry, the colors of the flowers were so vibrant, she’s missed seeing colors. The Phantom Zone was all black and gray and sad. Nia almost pulled away in fear of doing something wrong that might’ve upset Kara when she started sobbing at the sight of roses. Kara just gave her a big ole bear hug and a wet kiss on the cheek.

But, there was one person though, one person that she hasn’t seen around and to be honest? She’s been too scared to ask about.

She still hasn't told Alex about the visions. How can she explain her fear of seeing Lena if Alex doesn’t know about the visions? Her sister would start asking questions soon, though.

Why hasn't she talked to Lena yet? Why she hasn't asked? Why was she so scared of—

And then, as she was just inhaling her third box of potstickers, mind going over how to talk to Alex and Kelly is snorting over whatever it is that Brainy said, Kara’s world stops.

Her supersenses—it seems—are back and the first thing it chooses to focus on is a familiar heartbeat.

Her head whips to the door and there, Lena Luthor, her best friend—the most beautiful soul Kara’s ever seen—is standing there.

She’s fiddling with her thumbs and it reminds Kara so much of the first time she’s fallen victim to those horror show visions.

Fear grips her and refuses to let her go.

She knows this. She’s seen this sight way too many times.

Lena takes a step forward, then pulls back, holds herself back and then—

Her phone rings.

Kara shoots out of her bed, in the next instant she is right in front of Lena.

Distantly, she hears Nia shriek and Kelly shout, “Kara, oh my god!”

It doesn’t even register to her that she’s used superspeed that her superspeed is back.

All she feels is that she knows who’s on the other side of the line and she’s got to stop Lena from taking the call and she really, really, really just wants to hug her.

Lena’s eyes are wide when she realizes the quick woosh she’s heard is Kara.

“Kara, what—“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she is quick to amend, “I just- I-” and then more eloquently, “Can we please talk?”

“I—” Lena hesitates, looks down at her phone, “I- I have to take a call.”

“No. Please, no don’t take the call, please trust me?”

“Kara, what are you talking about?”

Lena’s brows are furrowed in confusion now.

“Please,” she pleads, “Trust me, give the phone to Brainy, let him check it for you.”

“Kara, what—” she stops herself but then Lena takes a deep breath, looks straight into her eyes and says, “Okay, okay.” and then calls, “Brainy? Could you come here for a second?”

She lets out a sigh of relief and tension leaves her body and that’s when she realizes the cold tile of the floor beneath her feet and looks down to find that she’s barefoot.

Lena hands Brainy her phone and Nia hands Kara a pair of familiar fuzzy slippers. Alex must’ve made a run to her apartment, this morning.

“So,” Lena says, Kara can tell she’s nervous.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“Yes,” Kara breathes out, “But first, can I hug you?”

This, Kara thinks, as Lena’s arms wrap around her and her shampoo invades her sense of smell and her warmth seeps into Kara’s body...

This is home.

******

Lena led her through the ‘living room’ and out to the balcony.

“I’m sorry I’m confused, living room?”

Lena chuckles and god, Kara’s missed that sound. Out of all the sounds on Earth, it was Lena’s laugh, Lena’s words, Lena’s voice she’s missed so much.

“Well, uhm everybody started camping out, there two weeks after you’ve…”

Lena's smile falters a bit but then she braves on through; omitting the words the both of them already knew, “And then Nia just started calling it living room, I mean, I guess it does look like a living room more than a heroes’ lair, now.”

And then Kara takes a good look around and Lena’s right, it does look more of a messy living room than a heroes’ lair.

There was a tangle of chargers on the cushions besides Nia’s laptop and Alex’s leather jacket draped over a couch, a couple of mugs sat on the coffee table. There were other knick-knacks too littered around, a Rubik’s cube here, a stress ball there, a couple of discarded pens and a lot of scratch papers filled with gadget designs.

She knows who to credit with those.

She’s missed so much. It hits her then She’s missed how all of this happened. How everyone had grown comfortable enough in The Tower that everyone considers it their second home.

Lena must’ve seen the way Kara’s eyes were roaming the place. Because she places a hand on Kara’s arm and the touch grounds her.

“Hey,” Lena says, “It’s your home too.”

She doesn’t know how to feel about that, but the way Lena says it makes Kara aware that Lena considers this place her home too.

Lena feels part of the team. Lena’s at home here, with her people, with her team.

The thought fills her with so much happiness but then—

If Lena became family while she was gone, what did Lena think of her now, then?

They stay quiet for a moment, which is driving Kara crazy, because she dragged Lena out here and now, she doesn’t know what to say.

“Kara,” Lena says the same time Kara says, “Lena,”

She smiles shyly at Kara and god, that smile. Kara wants to kiss that smile.

She doesn’t.

Even though Lena’s caught her staring at her lips.

“Okay, uhm I’ll go first,” Kara decides, averts her gaze and Lena gives her a small nod.

“Look, I’ll be honest, I- I don’t know how to do this and frankly, I’m not sure where I stand in your life anymore,” she admits and that seems to get Lena’s attention which just makes Kara’s palm get sweaty.

“Lena, I—”

“There you are!” Alex shouts at the two of them and whatever was about to happen, whatever Kara has to say becomes completely eclipsed by the next words Alex says.

“Lex is back. We have to hide Lena.”

******

“What?” Lena retorts back, loudly, “What do you mean hide?”

“Your phone, you gave it to Brainy right?”

Lena nods slowly at Alex, then looks at Kara and holds her gaze as if to say something.

“Yes, and?”

“We have reason to believe that he’s targeting an attack mainly for you,” Alex says and Lena isn’t really surprised.

The whole team is gathered now and Brainy is pulling up the details on how Lex had planted a bomb in her penthouse.

How original.

“Wait, you gave your phone to Brainy. How did you even know something was up?”

It was Kelly who asks and Lena realizes that it really wasn’t her it was—

“She didn’t.”

“What?”

Kara speaks up for the first time since they’ve been gathered here and Lena somehow finds herself wanting to close in on Kara’s space.

“Lena didn’t know. I did,” Kara tells everyone and Alex frowns for a minute, trying to comprehend.

“How?”

She sees Kara tense up at the question and this time she lets herself be pulled into the gravity of Kara. She takes the three step gap between and sidles up to her.

Kara seems to notice their close proximity and proceeds, “I uhm— I had these…”

Kara’s struggling to find the word, “Visions, I guess you can call them that, when I was uh- when I was stuck in this cave in the Phantom Zone. It was— they were very, very awful dreams. And in each and every one of them I lose somebody I love. But—”

She stops again and the pause seems to kill Alex but Lena’s attention is all on Kara, Kara’s staring at her like she’s trying to tell her something, Lena reaches over and squeezes her hand.

It works. The gesture gives Kara the push she needs.

“But mostly, they were about Lena.”

A tear falls from Kara’s face and Lena aches to wipe it away.

“Cavena Tim-or,” Brainy interrupts, “In Latin, timor stands for fear. You were stuck in the cave of fears, Kara.”

“But didn’t you say it was Klamarians' who named the place?”

“Yes, well, you’d be surprised at who was present during humanity’s past civilizations.”

After that, Alex quickly asks the question she’s been dying to ask since Kara told them about her experience two seconds ago.

“What did you see?”

“In one of them, the first one actually, I came home. I came back here, though a portal. Lena’s in the back of the room. She steps out to answer a call, but she never comes back,” Kara chokes up and this time, Lena presses up against her and wraps an arm around Kara.

“I’m here,” she says quietly.

“She never comes back because Lex abducts her and then kills her. And every time I fall asleep in that cave, it was that. Again and again and again. Lena dies again and again. And I lose her each and every time. I- I lose you each and every time.”

Before anybody else can speak up after Kara’s little revelation.

Lena tugs at her, makes her look at her. Lena’s wearing heels, Kara’s wearing fuzzy slippers, it allows Lena to put a hand on Kara’s cheek and finally wipe away her tears.

“I am right here. I am not going anywhere, you will never lose me. You always have me, Kara. You’ll always have me.”

******

Lex planting a bomb was such a fucking insult. It’s infuriating. But Lena wasn’t mad that he wanted her to die but because that was the lamest attempt ever. It was an insult to Lena’s intelligence.

She knows her brother. He wouldn’t settle for something as pedestrian as this.

And so, Lena does something she hasn’t done in a long time.

She calls her mother.

******

“Your favorite child is attempting sororicide again.”

“Yes, I’m aware. At least tell me you’re clever enough to have run into a discreet location?

“I don’t run, Mother.”

“Hm. For this one I advise you do.”

“What is he planning?”

“Well, that’s a surprise, I thought you already knew. Given the fact that you weren’t running.”

“I have an inkling.”

“I’m telling you now, Lena. You should run.”

“Why would I?”

“Supergirl’s back, Lena. Think about it.”

How the fuck did Lillian knew they got Kara back?

******

It turns out Lex's grand plan was to make the Girl of Steel choose.

The city or Lena Luthor.

It took them a while to figure out how Lex knew Kara was home.

Because of course, it’s always the things right on your nose that you don't see.

Remember the story about Jess making the occupants around the whole block sign NDA’s and buying their silence?

Apparently, Lex Luthor bought them at a much higher price and made them talk. Money makes the world go round, indeed. Or in this case, makes the world explode.

He planted moles and surveillance cameras all round the area and when the team got Kara back, somebody made the call to Lex Luthor.

He was staging a series of explosions using all of the National City’s residential areas. If there are victims, there would be a need for a saviour. And who would be a better saviour than Lex Luthor?

The explosives were all planted throughout a group of small-income businesses that can be found in most residential areas. A salon, a bakery, a dentist clinic, you name it.

Lex bought out these properties one by one under a pseudonym. Goddamn pretentious bastard. And then had his goons plant the bombs.

And the most irritating thing is, they weren’t the simple kind of bomb. Cut the red, save everybody kind of bomb. No, this one was a high-tech, highly volatile kind of bomb. Lena would soon discover that the bomb was one of Lex’s designs.

A compact, almost the size of a notebook, a plastic rectangular thing that nobody would notice. If you left it in the dentist's office, they’d just assume somebody has left a power bank in their hurry. But as soon as one goes near it—

Kaboom!

Game over.

******

Lex succeeds in taking Lena.

The plan was to get to a safe house before anything happens. Make use of the transmatter portals because Kara says she doesn’t trust any of them driving Lena and she was still too weak to fly her anywhere.

Lex abducts her in the middle of transporting. Her entire being felt like they were turned upside down during that. He hacked her coordinates and grabbed her in the middle of the process. Her brother defied Laws of Physics just to get to her.

“You’re forgetting, I was the one who made those watches.”

She is gagged and cuffed, not the police kind of cuffs but the DEO kind of cuffs, the heavy biometric access ones.

She can only imagine Kara’s horrified face when Lena fails to turn up at the other side of the portal.

Lex drops the bomb on the floor, 5 steps away from her and makes his mandatory villain speech. Lena tuned out about halfway through.

Every hour that the Girl of Steel fails to show up for Lena and saves another neighborhood instead, the bomb gets closer and closer to Lena.

Don’t save me, Kara. Save the lives of others. Don’t save me.

******

The thing about using tech for bombs is that Brainy will most likely have a solution on how to solve it, fast.

"We encountered a similar problem back when I was part of the Legion."

"Well, you know what to do then?"

"I do."

******

It’s Alex who saves her and...Lillian.

“Only you?” Lena jokes breathing heavily, as Alex removes her cuffs and Lex is down on the floor.

“Where’s the rest of the cavalry?” she says, standing up from the monobloc chair. Alex in all her Sentinel glory, waving a device that Lena suspects is for detonating the bomb.

“Actually…” Alex trails off, gestures somewhere to the entrance.

And like some well-timed cue, Lillian Luthor rounds the corner.

Her mother was wearing a long black coat and heels, hair flowing, half in an updo. She looked as she always looked, an expensive calculating cold bitch.

“Lena,” she coos, gracefully kisses Lena on the cheek as if she hadn’t just sidestepped her son who was lying on the floor unconscious with a broken nose, as if Lena wasn’t just held hostage fearing for her life and for countless others, as if half of National City almost didn’t blow up.

Just a typical Tuesday for the Luthors.

Alex was too busy detonating the bomb on the ground to explain what the hell Lillian was doing here.

Her mother leans in closer, Lena feels the cold metal of a gun being thrust in her hands, she whispers, “I told him not to harm you.”

And in that moment in time, Lena realizes what this is. Her mother didn’t come for her because she cared if Lena lived or not. This was Lilian’s cheap shot at redemption. Lex had obviously failed her. But Lena? Lena might just be her saving grace.

Lillian must’ve thought if she played her cards right, Lena would pull her up from the depth of her sins. But no more, Lena knows better now. She isn’t the same woman who Lillian Luthor can manipulate into her traps.

Lena knows better now.

******

The sun is harsh on her face as Alex, her and Lillian make their way out of the warehouse.

Lex was being taken care of by a SWAT team. Old agents of the DEO that remained loyal to Alex Danvers and just like her had a hunch that Lex Luthor was bad news.

They pile up inside a nondescript van.

Alex’s first words to her as she shuts the vehicle doors close and the van lurches, are, “‘You’ll always have me?'” she mocks, “I mean Christ, Luthor, I had a hunch that you were gay for my sister but I didn’t know you were that ‘gay’.”

Alex rolls her eyes, makes air quotations around the word ‘gay’. Lena snorts. Lilian looks like she was going to throw up.

On the ride back, Alex tells her that Lillian stepped forward saying she knew where Lena was, snuck into The Tower, which J’onn or any of the Superfriends didn’t appreciate.

“Your security system is predictable, Lena. I’m your mother not to mention I’m a Luthor.”

Lena pushed down the urge to punch her in the face.

“Kara was this close...” Alex holds her index finger and her thumb in a pinch. “-to heat visioning her.”

Of course, it would be Lillian Luthor who would know where Lena would be taken by Lex.

Apparently, the others were scattered around National City helping to evacuate residents.

They all know Brainy could undo all of Lex’s bombs and avoid any casualties, but still, better safe than sorry.

It was only when they are already stepping inside the Tower’s elevators that it occurs to Lena that she still doesn't know where Kara is.

******

“She solar flared looking all over National City for you,” Alex tells her as they walk into the medbay and she sees Kara’s sleeping form under the glow of the sunlamps.

Alex excuses herself after changing out of her suit, muttering “Idiots, goddamn idiots I swear to God-” under her breath and Lena pretends she doesn't hear.

Flying around National City all night long exerting her supersenses fresh from a 3 month stay in a sunless hell and after only 12 hours under sunlamps, resulted in this; Kara unconscious yet again, powerless and weak.

Lena pulls up a chair next to Kara's bed. Grabs her right hand and puts it against her cheek, her palm warm against Lena's skin and there, with only Kara and the hum of the sunlamps, Lena cries. The events of the last few months finally catching up to her.

She falls apart, clutching Kara's hand tightly like an anchor.

******

Kara wakes up exhausted and parched. She blinks her eyes open to bright yellow lights.

She groans, rubs her eyes trying to sit up. The moment she sits up she realizes she isn’t alone.

Lena was here, sleeping on folded arms on the side of her med bed.

That does not look like a comfortable position.

“Lena,” she tries, nudging her gently on the shoulder.

“Hey, baby, wake up.”

Lena rouses, hums a confused, “Mm?” and slowly opens her eyes. Kara is shocked to see Lena’s emerald eyes have turned into bloodshot, tired ones.

“Were you crying?” Kara whispers, shuffling on the bed to get close enough to cup Lena’s face.

Lena doesn’t answer, just lets her head be tilted, Kara’s thumb softly rubbing at her cheek, concerned blue eyes burning into her. Kara looks like she’s going to ask once again but Lena cuts her off, half-afraid that if she doesn’t do it now, she will never do it.

“Kara, I love you.”

There. She did it. It’s done. She's said it. She can't take it back.

Immediately, Kara’s thumb stills and her eyes widen.

“And I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of you and me getting separated. With you not knowing how much I love you. How much it hurts every time you’re away from me. I’m so tired of not being with you, Kara.”

Her voice is heavy with emotion; exhaustion and overwhelming love bleeding into each other. She stares at Kara who’s still frozen, tears slowly falling, making her eyes shine like sapphire.

She feels Kara resume the movement of her thumb and only then does Lena realize she’s crying as well.

“I have you, right here, right now, but for how long? For how long? Because I know, I fucking know, Kara, this life. Your life. Our life. One way or another some disaster is going to get us again and I don’t want that to happen without me having told you how I feel. So, here I am,” she breathes out, “Here I am, telling you how I feel.” Lena puts a hand to Kara’s hand and cradles it, leans in to the touch, kisses her palm.

“I love you and I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t want to hide it anymore. I love you.”

“Lena,” Kara finally replies, breathless and emotional, “You saved me, do you know that? You’re all I’ve dreamt about the whole time I was away. You're the thing that's kept me alive. My home is you, has been you, for some time now and I didn’t even have the chance to tell you.”

Lena breaks when she hears this, as her mind takes her back to the past three months of missing Kara, of feeling so fucking lonely, of feeling so fucking scared.

“I love you, Rao, I love you so much. I can’t not love you. You’re everything, Lena. You’re my home.”

Kara has moved so close to her that she’s able to press their foreheads together as she murmurs, “I love you,” again and again and again.

“I’m tired of all of this too. I just want to love you, Lena.”

These are the words Kara utters before she presses their lips together.

******

“Lena?”

“Hm?” Lena hums, distracted. It was a good day today. She woke up to Lena making pancakes in her kitchen, wearing nothing but Kara’s old yellow hoodie. The sight almost made her turn to goo.

It was her third day back after spending so long confined to The Tower’s bed under the sun lamps. She was sure it would be longer if Alex had her way.

Tomorrow, Lena will be arranging her affairs in taking L-Corp back. They both know she has a long way to go. Kara’s not worried though, if Lena did it once, she can do it again and just like before Kara will be with her every step of the way.

Now, they’re just lounging around lazily in Kara’s apartment. Lena curled up on her couch with a book and Kara on the floor writing on her laptop.

She came back to CatCo last Monday and now she’s trying to come up with a good enough email to send to Cat Grant and ask her for a favor. She loves Nia but Rao, did she really have to say Cat Grant to Andrea?

“Why was Jess yelling at Nia last week? I woke up to Jess’s voice, actually. And more importantly, Jess knows???!”

“Oh, darling, Jess has always known.”

Kara stops typing and turns around to prop herself up on the couch.

“What? I’m sorry what?” she blurts out, incredulous. Lena puts her book down and looks at her.

“Apparently, you haven’t been very subtle.”

“Wha- No! I can be sneaky! I’m sneaky!”

Lena snorts at her protests.

“Sure you are,” she purrs and if Kara wasn’t writing an urgent email, that voice would’ve made her destroy the couch

“—and uh Jess was yelling at Nia for not following Tower rules.”

“W-we have rules?” she says, Kara shakes off the straying thoughts out of her mind and focuses back on what Lena is saying. She hauls herself off the floor and unto the couch, Lena making room, lifting her legs and then putting it back down on Kara’s lap once she’s comfortably seated.

“Mm-hm.”

Kara’s hands start trailing up and down Lena’s bare legs on her lap.

“Will you tell me? I don’t want Jess to yell at me.”

Lena flashes a smile at that and Kara blushes adorably.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you, come here,” she answers and makes grabby hands at Kara. Rao, it’s a miracle Kara hasn’t died from the sheer cuteness that is Lena Luthor.

Kara shifts positions and fits herself horizontally, draping half of herself on Lena and Kara listens to the 5 cardinal rules of Jessica Huang. It mostly just says all of them should eat, sleep and balance superhero work and real work.

She wants to ask if somebody is paying Jess, but then realizes Lena Luthor is next to her and she would never let somebody like Jess work for free.

The thought of how utterly good and compassionate Lena is, makes her smile.

“Lena?” Kara mutters, nosing at Lena’s neck.

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

Lena laughs, “Once or twice.”

“Well, that wouldn’t do. From now on, it’s my mission to tell you I love you till I’ve said it a billion times,” Kara declares.

“A billion?”

“Mm-hm. And even a billion doesn’t even feel like enough.”

“You’ll always be enough for me, Kara,” Lena says, looking down to her and kissing her temple, “You’re more than enough for me.”

“I love you, Lena.”

“I love you too.”

******

There are two parts to Kara Danvers' story The Searching and The Coming Home.

She never even knew she was searching for something, someone, till she found Lena, till she found somebody to come home to.

******

uhm so, @uselesslesbianfr submitted something to me and my brain just started churning and then before i knew it i've written a 10k one shot about the brief plot she's sent me. so yeahhh.

[let-me-write-shit]

Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N  who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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

Taglist:

@odetostep​ , @thurhomish​

[primasveraas-writing]

As Family Does - SWR

In snippets, Hera experiences the ups and downs of motherhood, and all the wonderful relationships her son has with family near and so very far away.

WORD COUNT: 2206

XXX

Kanan

A sharp, desperate cry, and Hera’s world changed forever.

Jacen Syndulla was a testament to his parents’ strength long before he came into the world. He emerged bloodied, during battle and war, but the galaxy suddenly recentered itself around this tiny, helpless being.

Hera should have been used to this kind of change by now- in less than a year, her whole life had been broken and reformed in more ways than she could count.

And yet- so much of it was good, Hera thought, as the squirming baby was placed on her chest. This love she felt was so familiar, after carrying her son for 9 months, after loving his father, after being family and foster mother to Ezra and Sabine. She felt it in every cell of her body, so much that it was hard to breathe.

“You did it, Hera,” Zeb said, sounding rather choked up. Hera nodded, numb to the rest of the galaxy, save for her child in her arms, and realized that there were hot tears on her face. She sobbed, her whole body convulsing, and that hurt, but she didn’t care. She’d faced greater pain and been awarded less joy at the end of it all.

The baby wailed again, and Hera gasped- the boy’s eyes had flown open, revealing a clear, vibrant blue. His skin was tinted green and his features were already sharp, sure hallmarks of his mother’s identity but his eyes- they were Kanan’s eyes.

She never thought she’d see them again, and she sobbed harder. Even with the hormone changes that came with pregnancy, it had been a long time since Hera had cried this much. She felt Zeb’s hand on her shoulder and the love in the air. She cried tears of happiness, as new parents do, and tears of sorrow because Kanan wasn’t there to meet his son, nor Ezra to meet his baby brother.

But still- she knew Kanan loved her and he loved their son. She knew Ezra would too, when he came home. Their love was still with her, even if they were not.

That would be enough for now. Hera had her son and her beloved’s eyes, and the love needed to carry her through this and darker days.

Chopper

Hera knew- despite her avoidance of the fact- that Jacen couldn’t stay with her forever. She wasn’t the only one in the Rebellion with a young child, but she was the only general with a newborn. Somewhere in the galaxy, there had to be a safe place for her son, and she would find it. But for now, she kept him the best she could, even if it would only be for the first months of his life.

The fear and the exhaustion of war were heightened by bringing an infant into it. They threatened Hera in her lowest moments, but then there was Zeb, putting Jacen back to sleep in the middle of the night before she could get out of bed, or Kallus quietly filling out her rising piles of paperwork when she was too busy or too tired to do it herself.

It was okay- a new challenge, a new routine, and an ever-constant show of their resilience. She witnessed love and community in all parts of her life, from her kid pilots offering to babysit, to the Organas sharing some old baby toys and clothes. Even the most unlikely of figures rallied around her, and for that, Hera was grateful. Sometimes, she would even have time to herself.

One of these calm afternoons was spent completing mission reports while Jacen slept, which Hera boldly presumed would last long enough for her to catch up on everything she had to do. As soon as she dared to hope this, however, a mechanical whirr indicated the presence of Chopper- and serenity rarely, if ever, followed him.

Where is the new one? He asked, disregarding the fact that Hera was very clearly busy.

“The new one- you mean Jacen?”

He’s new. Her droid was very matter-of-fact about this statement.

“He’s a baby, Chop,” Hera amended, and the astromech beside her warbled in disagreement.

He has not been around very long. He has not done many things either. Therefore, he is new.

“Whatever you say.”

Chopper didn’t humor her further, only groaned in complaint, and waited for a response. Hera rolled her eyes, but obliged. “He’s down for his afternoon nap. Same as yesterday. Why?”

She received no reply, other than a broken lament that the little one took too long to recharge, then her oldest companion rolled off and out of sight. Hera sighed and turned back to her work.

Later, Hera glanced at the chrono and readied herself for her son’s cries, but the Ghost remained silent and lonely. She crept down the room towards the pilot’s quarters, the door still open so that she might reach Jacen faster. Perhaps she would find him still asleep, and she could clean or shower with the extra few minutes to herself.

She instead discovered her baby wriggling happy on his cot, Chopper looming over him. One of his mechanical arms was extended, dangling Jacen’s favorite tooka in front of him. Chopper made gentle sounds, and Jacen grinned up at him.

So Chopper had a heart, beyond the occasional moment of mercy. Hera hid her mouth with her hand, ignoring the wetness in her eyes, and watched the scene from the doorway.

Zeb

It might not have been fair to blame a baby for picking favorites before he could talk, but Hera still shook her head as Zeb passed back Jacen, who wailed the second he left the Lasat’s arms. Zeb chuckled at the reaction, scratching at the back of his neck, but shrunk instantly at Hera’s glare

“Aw, com’on,” Zeb tried while Jacen furiously kicked against Hera. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. Nobody holds a candle to ya, Hera.” He finished the statement rather ungracefully, as Hera relinquished Jacen, plopping him back in Zeb’s arms. As soon as she did, Jacen giggled, clutching at Zeb’s fur and gurgling happily, his woes entirely forgotten.

“You’d think he’d be a little more grateful to the one who feeds him,” Hera said dryly, regarding Jacen with her hands on her hips. Zeb shrugged, looking vaguely sheepish.

“I’m just softer than ya, that’s all,” Zeb assured her, snuggling Jacen against his chest. When Hera raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed in surprise.

“Lasat kits like to sleep on their parents,” he explained, “but some of us like to say that they prefer the Lasat with the longest and softest fur.”

“Well, you certainly have me beat there,” Hera conceded, and Zem hummed in agreement, rocking Jacen in his arms. He babbled cheerfully, and Zeb laughed again. “Maybe nobody holds a candle to Uncle Zeb, either,” she said, her tone hushed, and Zeb froze. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

Zeb didn’t say anything for a long moment, then he shifted Jacen to one side and slung his free arm around Hera’s shoulders. She leaned into the embrace, and Zeb pulled her closer.

“We’re family,” he said gruffly, his voice suspiciously thick. “Of course I’ll take care of you both.”

The admonition sent warmth flooding through Hera’s chest, and she sniffed. That was what she’d count on through it all- her family and their love, unfaltering.

Sabine

Each of Jacen’s milestones- his first smile and wave and babble of a word- came with the reminder that Kanan wasn’t there to witness them too. Her son had just started to lift his own head when the anniversary of his father’s death passed, and Hera realized with grief weighing on her heart that even the idea of Kanan would be unfamiliar to Jacen for the first years of his life.

Her sorrow at the fact that “Dada” wouldn’t be among Jacen’s collection of first words (which included “Mama,” “ship,” “no!” and “Chop”) was expressed to Sabine during an exhausted and teary conversation. Together, they concluded that Kanan would have made a great dad, if he didn’t collapse from the stress while doing it, and the two women held each other until the talk turned back to recollecting fond memories at laughter at what once was.

In one of the biggest shocks of Hera’s life, the grief became lighter and easier to carry. She knew it would never leave her, but at least she didn’t bear it alone.

When Jacen turned one, she declared it a happy occasion and resolved not to spend too long dwelling on those not present to celebrate with them. There were still wistful smiles and comforting hugs, but as luck would have it, she had Zeb, Alexsandr, Rex, and Sabine all with her to mark the occasion, and that was a happy blessing on its own.

Jacen destroyed the small cake Alexsandr had made for him with pudgy fists, smearing it all over his face and onesie. Hera laughed, trying not to think of the possibility of finding uneaten food in Jacen’s diaper again, and their small family celebrated, and it was good.

They exchanged presents before everyone had to return to their respective duties. Mother and son received a collection of toys and bigger clothes, and Hera was even gifted a nice bottle of wine for her to enjoy after surviving a year of motherhood.

At the end, when it was just her and Sabine sweeping crumbs off the floor of the galley, the young Mandalorian presented her a final gift. An intricately bound book, made from sketch flimsi and filled with page after page of illustrations. It told a story, in few words and in brilliant, dynamic colors, of a Jedi, a hero, on quests to make the galaxy a better place. The Jedi wielded a blue lightsaber, and although he could be grumpy, he was deeply loyal to his friends, and he always came in to save the day. His face was unmistakable, his demeanor kind and familiar.

“So Jacen can know his dad,” Sabine said, and her voice was carefully measured. “I never thought I’d illustrate a kid’s book.”

Hera had no words, so she threw her arms around Sabine instead, murmuring her thanks through her tears. Sabine accepted the hug, squeezing Hera just as tight, and they stayed that way for a long while.

Ezra

Jacen grew and grew until he no longer fit in her arms- or rather, he wiggled out of them every time Hera tried to pick him up. He started to beg to learn how to fly as the war drew to a close but it wasn’t until after the Battle of Endor that Hera felt the skies were safe enough for her son.

Sabine teased her that Jacen inherited his recklessness from both sides of the family. Hera couldn’t bring herself to disagree, but she looked around at her friends and family- Mandalorians and Lasats and spies and galactic heroes- and thought that her child’s thrill-seeking tendencies came more from his company rather than his blood.

The conclusion of the war didn’t mean the end of the fighting, but peace was at last on the horizon and her fellow rebels begun planning their lives in this new, free galaxy. Hera could be a mother full-time now, and not have to worry if each goodbye to her son would be her last.

She thought that this would mean fulfillment- and in many ways, it did. The galaxy was entering a new age, but there were too many things left behind for Hera to move on completely. Much of it, she would never get back- but for some, there remained hope of rescue.

She saw so much of Ezra in Jacen. His energy, for one, and his innocence. His optimism, too- Jacen was a happy baby and nothing short of an ebullient child. Hera and Kallus liked to joke that his smile could light up the galaxy. It was impossible, when gazing into Jacen’s blue eyes, not to see the hope and love of another boy who once looked to her as a mother. They had so much in common, these children of war, but their biggest similarity was those who loved them.

Sabine was the first one to teach her the bittersweet pride of a child leaving the nest, and she came to Hera again to tell her that she must go. Hera had fear and love and faith for her, but little surprise when Sabine promised to bring Ezra home. With a blessing and a plea to stay safe, she hugged Sabine tight and watched her set off into the galaxy again.

When evening fell, and Hera was alone again, Jacen approached his mother and snuggled into her arms. As much as she tried to protect her son, he always seemed to know when she was sad.

Hera didn’t think that she’d ever be complete without Kanan, without Ezra, without everyone she’d lost in a lifetime at war. But she was not alone, she knew- she had her son in her embrace and a family in every corner of the galaxy. That, for now, was enough, and she had hope that she would see them all again one day.

[starshine583]

can we see damianette with v?

(Let me just say that I absolutely LOVE this concept!! I could write a whole ficlet on this one too! anyway, I hope you like the snippet as much as I did.)

Darkness. That was all Marinette had ever known. In fact, it was all a good portion of the world had ever known, and it was thanks to this little thing called Soulmates.

A long time ago, the gods decided that humans had become blind to the true purpose of love and romance. So, to remind them of this, they cursed the world with literal blindness, and the only way to nullify this curse was to touch your soulmate directly. Then, the gift of sight would be restored to both parties, and they would finally be able to see for the first time.

At first, Marinette was extremely excited to find her soulmate. After all, who wouldn’t be? The life of the seeing sounded wonderful, especially when her Maman and Papa would tell her stories of the sea and the stars. And having the love of your life, the person you’re going to be with forever, be the first thing you truly see? That sounded incredibly romantic, and she couldn’t wait to experience it. 

As the years passed, though, and more people around her found their soulmate, the excitement that had been bubbling inside her began to fade, and a quiet resignation took its place. If she hadn’t found her soulmate yet, that meant she probably wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones who found their soulmate early. Therefore, she needed to learn to be patient, instead of tearing herself apart with anticipation. 

This revelation led to Marinette exploring her capabilities and becoming affiliated with her blindness as best she could. She could already get around fine, but she wanted to get around better than fine. She wanted to get around so well on her own that people forgot she was blind altogether. Then, perhaps, she would be able to forget too. Or at least forget that everyone but her could see. 

She had just started being able to walk without using her cane when she received a pair of strange, magical earrings. The discovery was definitely a shock, but the thought of being able to push herself to the absolute limit as a superhero intrigued her. So, she accepted the earrings and became Ladybug, savior of Paris. 

Imagine her surprise when she found out that her partner was also blind. He didn’t move around as easily as she did, but their gadgets helped them find their way well enough to fight. For example, her yo-yos would use beeping sequences to tell her when she was near something, while Chat Noir used his staff as a makeshift cane, and the akumas were normally loud enough that they didn’t have to guess their locations. 

Alya joined their school around the same time that Marinette became Ladybug, and Marinette was absolutely delighted to meet her. Not only because the new student gave Nino his sight, but also because she was able to describe the colors to Marinette in a way that she could understand. Her parents had tried to tell her about the colors before and how beautiful they were, but in the end, the descriptions always depended on sight. 

Alya, however, described them with feelings.

“Blue,” she would say, “is like dipping your hand into the pool. It’s cool and calm and sometimes sad, but it’s beautiful. It’s the color of the sky and the sea and your eyes.”

“Red is the color of heat, of anger, of blood.”

“Yellow is the color of sunshine on your skin and happiness and things that make you smile.”

“Green is the color of envy or disgust, but it’s also the color of summer’s grass.”

“Black is the color of darkness, the same thing you see now.”

Now that Marinette had at least somewhat of a shaky grasp on what colors were like, she wasn’t nearly as annoyed when Mlle Bustier decided to take the class to an art gallery during their field trip to Gotham. It was still an inconsiderate thing to do, but she had Alya to guide her if necessary and had heard about a section of the gallery that was made specifically for blind people. So she had hope that the visit wouldn’t be as awful as it sounded.

“Remember class,” her teacher called as she led everyone inside the gallery, “everyone needs to have a safety buddy at all times. Gotham is well known for its villain attacks, so stay together!”

Alya sighed next to her. “It’s not like it’s any different from our akuma attacks. Why all the fuss?”

“Well, the villains here don’t transform back once they’re caught.” Nino pointed out. “It’s kind of like a ton of Hawkmoths running around instead of akumas.”

Marinette nodded in agreement, though none of them were probably looking at her anyway.

“True, but they also have more super heroes here.” Alya argued. “Batman, Red hood, Nightwing, Robin- if a villain attacked us, they’d be surrounded in ten minutes!”

Marinette held back from commenting on that remark, but she knew from personal experience that superheroes had their own lives too. Just because a single villain showed up somewhere didn’t mean that all of the heroes in Gotham would show up at the same time to fight it, or that the villain would be any easier to take down once outnumbered.

She lightly touched Alya’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going to go find that blind section that Mlle Bustier was talking about .”

Alya paused her conversation with Nino to reply, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not! I’ll go tell Mlle Bustier where we’re going, but you can start walking now if you don’t need any help?”

“No, I can manage.” Marinette smiled. Mlle Bustier had passed out a special map of the gallery the night before that had bumps for the walls and statues and braille to tell them which rooms were what. Besides, if she could fight akumas across the Parisian rooftops on a regular basis, she could certainly find her way around an art museum.

The two separated, Alya going right to speak with Bustier, and Marinette going left to find the blind room. She idly tapped her cane on her shoulder as she walked across the hardwood floors, the echoing footsteps and hushed talk of other visitors giving her directions on which way to step and which way to avoid. Some of the voices spoke in different languages, and it caused Marinette to wonder whether the people around her were tourists like herself or locals. Probably a decent mix of both.

When she was sure that she’d found the correct room- there was a sign with braille on it that said “blind section” - she let her cane tap against the floor and began wandering around the room. The pictures inside had bumpy textures for her to run her hands across, and the statues that were open to anyone above the age of eleven were a mix of grainy and smooth, most likely made from different types of rock. It was admittedly strange tracing her hands over things that were supposed to be human bodies, but if it was the only way to observe the master pieces..

A few minutes passed of her dragging her hands over the displays when something strange happened, something that made her pause.

Footsteps and voices had been a consistent background noise from the moment she walked into the gallery, but for some reason, both of those sounds abruptly stopped in the last minute of her being there, as though everyone that had been in the room with her suddenly left. That wasn’t possible, though, because she didn’t hear anyone leave, and she couldn’t fathom why a whole group of strangers would tip-toe out of a room to avoid being detected by her. 

Before she could call out to the people who had to be around her, somebody gasped, proving that other people were, in fact, still in the room with her. Then, another person gasped, then three, and someone shrieked. 

Now Marinette was panicking. What was going on? Why were they screaming? What did they see that she couldn’t?

Where footsteps had been scarce before, there were now footsteps everywhere, along with more screams. People were running, but from what? She didn’t hear anyone else enter the gallery, nor did she hear a villainous outburst. 

Marinette strained her ears to listen for something more, something out of the ordinary that would cause people alarm, but it was hard to hear anything else over the screams. The only other thing she could catch was a strange, hissing sound. They couldn’t be running from that, though, could they? What would be making a hissing sound that had everyone bolting out of the gallery?

“Marinette!” 

Alya’s voice nearly made Marinette jump five feet in the air out of fright, but she caught herself and turned towards the direction she assumed her friend was coming from.

“Alya, what’s going on?”

Somebody grabbed her arm, and Alya’s voice spoke up again right next to her. “We need to go. There’s this weird, green gas that’s filling the gallery, and it’s causing people to.. to..”

Alya’s explanation faltered as she let out a snort, which confused Marinette. Didn’t she sound panicked a second ago? Why was she laughing now? This wasn’t a prank, was it? No, Alya would do that..

Another laugh burst from her friend’s lips. Then another. It almost sounded like she was trying to contain it, like she was laughing against her will. 

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. What did she say about the gas again? It was causing people to do something? What if it was causing them to laugh?

“A-Alya?” Marinette said, trying to remain calm as she grabbed Alya’s shoulders. If the gas was causing people to laugh, does that mean she’s inhaled it already? Was the effect going to be permanent? Was it going to be fatal? Why would someone release that type of gas into an art gallery?

“Mari-Marine-” Alya wiggled out of Marinette’s grasp and began laughing harder. Marinette tried to grab her again, but her friend fell to the floor. 

“Alya!” Marinette cried, kneeling down next to her. The girl was writhing on the floor now, cackling like she’d gone mad.

“G-Get- you need- you need to- need to go-” She said through laughs, but that was all she said. After that, Alya fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and Marinette was left panicking and wondering what she should do. She could try to go get help, but she didn’t know where the gas was coming from. Even if she did, she had no way of knowing who might be waiting for her outside. The gas might be a way to push herself and the other civilians out onto the street. 

Marinette stumbled to her feet and took a moment to listen to her surroundings again. She could still hear screams, but they were more towards the back of the gallery, while laughter could be heard towards the front. That meant the gas must have come through the front entrance. Was that the hissing sound she’d heard earlier?

Just as she was about to call out Tikki to give her a visual on the gallery, another sound reached her ears. This time it was a clicking, similar to that of metal being hooked onto something, and it came from above her. Was someone on the ceiling? What would they be doing up there? How would they get up there in the first place?

A whizzing sound followed the click, and Marinette tensed as she listened to it grow closer. Something or someone was coming towards her. Was it the villain who spread the gas? Why didn’t she hear it move on the ceiling beforehand? Was she going to have to defend herself and Alya as a civilian? 

A pair of boots hit the hardwood floor, and Marinette shifted into a fighting stance, holding her cane up like a sword. If she had to go, she didn’t plan on going easily. “Who are you?”

“My name is Robin.” The response was quick, almost automatic. “We’re evacuating the premises. I need you to come with me.”

Marinette hesitated. Wasn’t Robin one of the heroes Alya had mentioned? The person in front of her sounded like another teenager. (Then again, being a teenager didn’t stop her from saving Paris on a weekly basis)

A leather glove wrapped around her fore-arm- his hand, she realized -and he pulled her against him. 

“Hold on tight.”

Hold on tight? “What do you me-”

Robin clicked a button, and with a sharp tug, they were flying through the air. Marinette let out a yelp, and then she did something that changed her life forever.

She wrapped her hands around his neck.

As soon as she did, a bright flash of light invaded her vision, and suddenly, colors were everywhere. There were light colored walls and dark colored floors- perhaps that was the brown she’d heard about? -and the statues were a mix of light and dark colors, similar to the marble rock that she’d been taught about. And the paintings- oh, the paintings were just bursting with color and life! It all looked positively extraordinary and amazing and-

Robin gasped above her, no doubt from the shock of seeing as well. His hand must have slipped from whatever was pulling them upwards, because in the next moment they were falling back to the ground. (And she could see it! She didn’t have to hear the rush of wind or feel the pit of her stomach rising to know!)

The two hit the ground with a grunt, and Robin swiftly shifted their position to use his body as a shield to protect Marinette from further injuries as they rolled across the floor. This resulted in Marinette landing on top of Robin and Robin rubbing the back of his head with another groan. 

“A-Are you okay?” She asked as she pushed herself up to hover over him. That fall didn’t feel too steep, but having extra weight on top of him most certainly would have made the landing worse.

Now that she could actually see the person in front of her with her own eyes, she could tell that he was definitely a superhero. He had an entire costume on, equipped with a cape and everything. She even spotted a utility belt on his waist that appeared to have a hefty amount of gadgets on it.

Robin looked up at her, and though his mask hindered her view of his eyes, the surprise was clear on his face as his eyebrows shot up.

“Who..” He trailed off, his head tilting slightly as he glanced around the room. He was still absorbing the fact that he could finally see, just as she was.

His gaze snapped back to her. “Who are you?”

I could ask you the same question. She thought. After fifteen years of searching, she’d finally found her soulmate, and not only did he live halfway across the world from her, but was also a superhero just like her. What were the odds?

Reality slapped both of them in the face when another scream pierced the air, and the two scrambled to get back to their feet. Soulmates or not, they were still in the middle of a villain attack. They couldn’t get distracted.

People were still laughing hysterically on the floor, but now a strange gas was trailing into the blind section. Marinette knew she should be panicked seeing it, considering what it did to Alya, but another part of her felt giddy, because Alya had also told her that the gas was green. She finally knew what green looked like!

“We have to get out of here.” Robin said. He pulled something off of his utility belt- was that a gun? -and shot it upwards. Marinette’s gaze immediately followed it curiously, and she managed to catch sight of a shiny object latching onto an open hole in the rooftop. It made a clicking sound, reminding her of the sound she’d heard when Robin first swooped into the gallery.

So, that’s how he got in here. She thought to herself. 

Robin pulled her against his chest again, clicking the same button he had earlier to start rising to the roof. “No surprises this time, all right?”

Marinette couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her lips, but it wasn’t because of the gas. The ludicrousness of the situation was simply too much. Who asks their soulmate not to give them another surprise such as the gift of sight? Who finds their soulmate in the hero who’s saving them during a villain attack?

Apparently, Marinette does, and this field trip, she decided, was turning out to be much more interesting than originally expected.

(Send me a letter and I’ll do a thing!)

(The next one I’ll be doing is O with Felinette!)

[princessofprocrastination]

A Creep? (Sapnap)

MASTERLIST 

pairing : sapnap x reader 

summary : in the world of flashing cameras and big stages, love lives don’t exist, and there’s no such thing as personal space. 

a/n : a sapnap story for y’all, muah. also, thank you so so much for 175 followers, holy crap.

-

your backstory is quite simple. a texan girl who had a dream of singing, but was limited since the main genre of your state was country. 

you appreciated the genre, but you have never been interested in making country music, the song choices never fit your voice. you didn’t even think you had a texan accent, at least that was what people told you. 

your parents have always been super supportive of what you do, constantly posting your covers on youtube, hoping that people out there enjoy to listen to you as much as they did. 

your dad had been the one to encourage you to do busking. he says it’ll be a great opportunity for you to learn what it’s like to sing in front of people, and a chance for you to get rid of your stage fright. 

so you did that. you started busking when you were about fourteen and stopped when you turned sixteen.

no, you didn’t stop because you were quitting, or that you were tired of it. instead, you were really lucky, and got recognised pretty early on your busking days. 

your dad decided that it was best to move to the US, where it’s closer to the record company that you were tied to. hence, that was what you all did. 

well, that was what you and your dad did. your mum decided to stay in houston to take care of your younger sibling. she felt that it was best they all stayed. 

that didn’t mean you guys were distancing from each other. instead, it felt like you were closer, calling everyday, making sure she knew what you and your dad were up to, and making sure that they were okay back in texas. 

you would consider yourself extremely lucky, for getting to experience what it’s like to be in the industry from young, for being able to produce music really quickly, for being able to attract people so quickly, those who liked your music. 

in your prime age of eighteen, you decided it was best to move back and forth from texas and california, from where you live. since things are going smoothly and you weren’t really needed in the US all the time, you thought it was best to move to texas again for the time being. 

you could say your music career was going pretty well. you found a loyal fanbase who enjoyed listening to your music as much as you enjoyed producing them. you were glad to have listened to your dad from such an early age. 

you were happy doing what you’re doing. but you were losing things to write about. 

being young, you didn’t have experiences in anything. sure, you excelled in school well and continued to attend online courses but you never really had friends, you never had a love life. 

a lot of people would say you’re too young, that it shouldn’t irk you this much, not being in a relationship but you thought the opposite. 

granted, you are happy with the close relationship you and your family have but you wanted to know what it would be like to be loved by someone else, to feel what it’s like to be held. 

you craved it. you’ve heard all about it, the pain, or the happiness it comes with. but you wanted to experience it for yourself.

so your dad and you move back to houston to your old house, not letting go of the house in california since you knew you’d come back once in a while. 

something that you hated telling people was what you did for a living. most traditional families would think that music can never bring food to the table, but times have change and music have changed a lot of people’s lives. 

another thing you hated explaining was why people took photos of you everywhere. with certain popularity, in comes curiousity. people want to know what you’re up to. 

and as weird as that sounds, you needed to get used to it. even though it was obvious that paparazzi’s jobs are basically an invasion of privacy. 

although you thought you could never be important enough for someone to document every step you take, paparazzi’s thought differently. but you understood it to a certain extent. it was their job, after all. 

as much as your job is important, so is theirs. 

sometimes it does get annoying though. you could be just in a grocery store, shopping for ingredients alone and there would be a swarm of paparazzi’s waiting outside to catch you and ask some questions. 

and everyday, a different question arrives. 

you never held back in telling them what they wanted answers to, you never had to hide anything. so what was the point of hiding. they never asked anything of importance, anyway. 

although the number of paparazzi’s lessened as you moved back to houston, the numbers weren’t small enough for you not to get overwhelmed. 

it really shocked you the extent they would go to write something vaguely interesting in an article. you didn’t even know how they knew you were moving back, but you never questioned it. 

as long as they don’t invade your privacy at home, all is good. 

about a couple months ago, you decide that your house was getting too boring and cramped with the cries of your little sister to really write anything good for your new album, so you found yourself sitting in a starbucks about less than an hour away from your house. 

you thought it was best to find somewhere further away from where you lived just in case someone spots you. you hoped for the opposite, though. 

you found yourself sitting in a secluded spot at the side, next to a window, facing the parking spots. you knew you’d stay for a while, so you tried to find a spot where people wouldn’t really see you. 

of course, with the way starbucks is set up, everyone can see everyone and but you can’t complain. the place had good drinks and pastry, and had pretty good wifi in case you needed to use your laptop at some point. 

you texted your manager from time to time, earphones in both your ears, listening to the newest sza single. this was the best time to finally catch up on some new music you missed out on. 

often times than not, you’d be typing away in your computer, stopping to grab your iced drink in your right hand to sip it, putting it down after a couple seconds. 

but you hated not knowing your surroundings, it has been what your mum taught you since young, to never be vulnerable, especially in public. with that lesson etched in your brain, you’d look up and around the cafe to see the changed of people once in a while. 

about an hour or two after you seated, you noticed a man walking in, wearing a simple, t-shirt and jeans outfit, carrying a backpack seating on the spot opposite you, but more on your left. 

he sat facing you so you quickly knew what he looked like the moment he sat down. 

for some reason, he caught you eye. 

he was fairly tall, taller than you at least, but wasn’t above six foot, not that it mattered. his hair was long, noticeably not been cut for a while, and had a short stubble, which suited his face so well. 

upon others, he seemed like the normal looking texan, white male. but to you, he was attractive. everything with him seemed to fit so well. he looked about your age, though you’re terrible at telling ages. 

you looked older than eighteen sometimes, yourself. you blamed it on the identity crisis you once had in california when you turned seventeen. 

you watched him silently as he stood up to the counter to order something. you snapped out of your thoughts, thinking if you got caught, he’d surely call you a creep. 

it had been pretty quiet actually. a couple came up to you when you walked in, asking for a photo but that was it. 

it seemed like it was going to be a relaxed writing day for you. 

your eyes glanced once more to the texan male as he settled down, typing away on his laptop. perhaps he’s writing an essay for school. maybe he’s still in college. 

but who were you judging, you, who was seated typing away probably looked like a college student, too. well, you are, just that you didn’t attend physical school. not that you were doing school work at that point, anyways. 

that day had been reserved for writing. and it seemed like you’d be coming to this starbucks more often.

no, it’s not to check on that man, obviously. 

even i can sense the sarcasm in my own tone. what the hell is wrong with me? i see one attractive male around me and i don’t know how to act? that’s so unlike me. 

you sat at the same spot for another three hours, eventually getting another drink when your first one ran out. you felt relaxed, thinking about your life, about what you wanted your new song to sound like. 

you and your producer texted back and forth, sending each other files of different guitar and piano notes you both liked to be into your song. 

you were so focused that you hadn’t looked up for a while. so you did that, you glanced up to check your surroundings, to see what had changed from the past couple hours.

looks like that guy is still there. it’s been so long. must’ve been a long essay. 

your eyes looked back on your laptop, clicking on a short snippet of a music file to listen to on your earphones that haven’t left your ears for about four hours. 

you listened to the file, eyes glued to your notepad in your laptop, trying to decipher if the beat went along with your lyrics. you picked up your cold drink with your right hand, putting it up to your lips as your eyes never moved from your laptop. 

while you gulped a couple sips, you decide to look out the window.

your heart skipped a couple beats as you surprised yourself, seeing a row of people with cameras flashing and recording you in your seat. 

damn, has it been that long since i looked up from my laptop? 

you slowly put down your iced drink, pulling your long sleeved sweater to cover your hands, covering your face for a couple seconds to calm yourself down before you looked up again. 

you were pretty acquaintanced with some of them outside, so they offered you a big smile, some of them laughing at the shock on your face when you spotted them. 

you were embarrassed, to say the least. people here weren’t used to you and didn’t know who you were, aside from the few who asked for your autograph from earlier. you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. 

with your covered hands, you waved at them but told them to go home, mouthing the words to them, hoping they caught on with what you were trying to tell them. 

you made a ‘shoo’ motion with your hands, signaling them to leave, that you didn’t want the company today.

since they all couldn’t hear you anyways, they soon left one by one, thinking they got enough footage of you for the day, to save their films for another day. 

you knew that you couldn’t go to that starbucks as often as you wanted anymore, you didn’t want the same paparazzi’s to swarm the whole cafe.

so you didn’t end up coming back to the same starbucks location for a while. specifically, for about three weeks. 

for the time being, you went to several small cafe’s, where no one knew you, aside from strangers who called themselves your supporters who spotted you drinking your coffee. 

you were sad when you had to leave the starbucks that day. you knew that if he were to indeed come the next day, the same time, you wouldn’t be able to see him for a long time. 

you weren’t even sure if you’ll see him again after that. houston is huge, after all. 

when you walked into the same starbucks from three weeks ago, the barista greeted you, practically shouting your name out, telling you how much he misses you, since you came only once before this. 

you went to him first, ordered a drink and spoke to him for a couple minutes before telling him that you needed to start writing things before you lose your motivation. 

you sat in a different seat this time, a little scared of sitting next to the window. 

you found yourself sitting in a further in spot, furthest away from the door and windows, unlike last time. hopefully this time, no one can spot you from outside. 

but you were sure that the paparazzi’s were tired of waiting on your never arrival there that they’ve probably given up. 

there was a reason you came again, though. and you’re sure you made it obvious. you just wanted to see him again. 

-

SAPNAP POV 

there was not a day i don’t stop by that starbucks. but that was the first time i had ever seen you in there. you seemed to like your own space, away from people. 

it sure did look like you were so focused in getting your essay done. you barely looked up from your laptop.

i just couldn’t look away from where you seated. you just looked so beautiful, but so mysterious. being since i’ve never seen you before. but for some reason, i felt like i’ve seen you somewhere. i just didn’t know where. 

but it shocked me even more when i saw the sea of people waiting outside, pointing huge cameras on you. 

when i first spotted a couple people standing outside, i assumed that some celebrity was going to walk in soon, or that they were already sitting, just in some sort of disguise, or that i didn’t know who they were. 

i didn’t really care, and continued typing in my laptop, wanting to quickly finish work before i could relax and finish drinking my cup of coffee sitting right in front of me. 

but then i started noticing that they kept on getting closer to the window that you were seated next to. so i stopped what i was doing, and curiously looked, as some of the customers in there stared as well. 

i did see someone coming up to you, talking, but i assumed that you knew them. maybe they were your family and they came to say hi before needing to urgently go. 

but i can see that i was wrong. 

every single camera was pointed your way. there was like ten people standing outside of the cafe, some cameras flashing, others recording you. 

you hadn’t noticed yet at that point, still very much focused in whatever you were doing on your laptop. 

you finally picked up your drink, eyes finally leaving your work to look around you. you almost choked on your drink, seeing the cameras. 

you put your drink down, pulling your sleeves to cover your hands and covered your face with them, clearly caught off guard and embarrassed. 

you smiled at them, waving a little before politely telling them to leave, that you had to finish doing something, as you pointed to your laptop to them. 

you seemed to know them. you didn’t really look uncomfortable, but more of cautious of what people in the cafe would think of the commotion. 

soon, they left anyways, seeing as there was nothing they could really document from you sitting inside, and they couldn’t really ask any questions. 

about an hour later, you left, the barista greeting you, saying that he hoped to see you again soon.

now i’m more intrigued. who could you be? 

how did so many people know you? 

soon after her, i got into my car and drove home, exhausted from doing school work all day. the coffee helped for a couple hours and now clearly wearing off. 

george and dream texted me, telling me to join their discord call, saying that george was streaming and they wanted to talk about some weird shit. 

well, there goes my extra sleep for the day. 

soon, he ended his stream and the three of us were left talking about how our days went. 

“dude, mine was so confusing.” i stated last, after hearing what dream had to say about patches shitting everywhere on his carpet due to diarrhoea. 

“what do you mean?” dream asked me. 

“there was this girl, she came in before me into the same starbucks i go really often, right?” i stopped to make sure they were listening. they hummed to let me know they were.

“ten paparazzi’s swarmed the starbucks. they just pointed their cameras at her while she sat on a table at the side.” i said. 

“she was so shocked to see them at first, but she quickly told them to leave. she looked not comfortable with the stares after that she had to leave like an hour later. i don’t even know if she finished her work.” i finished. 

“wait really? what did she look like?” george asked. 

“my age, hair pretty long. she looked shorter than me and she was wearing flared jeans with a graphic tee.” i described her the best that i could.

“wait. you said starbucks in houston, right?” dream cut in. 

“yeah, why?” i asked, hoping for some answers. 

“i just saw the photos. i know her. she’s a singer, moved back to texas from california recently.” dream told me. 

“she’s like extremely known dude, how did you not know?” george said after dream told me who she was.

“i don’t know artists besides 21 savage, i’m sorry.” they laughed.

dream sent in her instagram in discord for me to see. 

i searched her name on instagram and scrolled through her photos and highlights, switching to youtube to listen to her music after that. 

i quickly clicked follow, wanting to be updated whenever she posted. i didn’t care if we met in real life anymore, i’m just intrigued at this point.

but it’s not like she’ll see my username following her. she has people following her everyday, she must not check it, right?

you had over a hunder million followers on instagram. i’m just shocked i hadn’t heard of her. maybe that’s where she was familiar.

i came back to the same place the following da, the week after. i came everyday and couldn’t find you anywhere. 

well, not that i could blame you, you were swarmed the first time you came, anyways. 

i saw the paparazzi’s waiting every single day, hoping to get a glimpse of you to ask questions but soon gave up and ended up not returning after a week seeing as you stopped coming. 

but you didn’t stop coming. you ended up coming three weeks after your first time. 

the barista practically jumped on the spot and screamed your name, i was sure everyone in the cafe knew you came in after that. 

you didn’t check the entirety of your surroundings so i was sure didn’t know who was seating where. i wasn’t even sure if you knew me, or remembered me from last time. did you even notice me?

this time, instead of sitting next to the window, she sat on the table to my right, we were both facing the direction of the barista. you sat where you could rest on the wall like i did, so we were basically in the same position, just next to each other. 

you settled into your seat, putting your drink down, turning on your laptop and got ready a little notebook that you had from inside your bag. 

while you sipped on your drink, you looked around to finally see what was around you. my eyes and yours locked at the same time, being i didn’t look away from my stare from when you came in. 

you smiled at me, acknowledging me. i gave her a smile back before turning back to my laptop to make myself busy. 

you had your hair different today. last time, it was down, and showed your natural looking hair but this time you had it pulled up into a ponytail. i guess you meant business today. 

i don’t know if that means you didn’t want people talking to you, or. 

oh, you put on your earphones. i guess you didn’t want to be disturbed, then. 

i kept staring at every part of you. okay, that sounded wrong and makes me sound like a pervert. 

you looked perfect. every single ring you wore on your fingers fit perfectly. your hair pulled back gave me the chance to see your side profile. your outfit casual, straight jeans with a sweatshirt on. 

god, you are beautiful. 

-

you felt his stares. he stared for a good couple minutes before he went back to his laptop to finish whatever he came here for. 

so he did remember me from last time. or he just noticed me today. or did he know who i was? 

“god i hope he’s not one of those creeps.” you thought. finally i find a guy attractive and he’s a creep? i hope not.

at some point in the couple of hours you’ve seated there, you had to take out your earphones to focus even more on writing something, instead of getting distracted with listening to something. 

you really wanted to come out with a new album in a couple months, and to do that, you needed to write something. urgently. 

you sipped your drink from time to time. you even had to facetime your producer for a while to ask on his take for the path you’re going with your new songs. 

he was really supportive and heard what you wanted and didn’t dump all his opinion and tried to call it a day. that was what you liked about him. he seemed to always take your thoughts into consideration.

playing with the rings on your finger, you looked up to look around to think of a word that seems to be at the back of your head, just you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it. 

there was no paparazzi’s today, thankfully. you were able to just keep your thoughts at bay and not have to be worried about the swarm of people waiting for you to answer their questions. 

you glanced at the man seated next to you just for him to notice your stare and look up from his work and matched your gaze. 

you hadn’t expected him to notice so you gave him a small, shy smile. to which he gave you back one. 

“do you mind if i, uh. sit with you?” he asked, pointing at the seat next to you. 

your heart jumped. holy crap this was happening. 

“i don’t mind, here.” you moved to your left to give him space to slide in next to you. he took that seat, moving his stuff from his table to yours, now laptops next to each other, your elbows touching. 

-

you two laughed at a dumb joke he said. 

to you, his name was nick but had apparently been sapnap to his online friends and fans. 

you were amazed at what he did as a hobby. sure, your job was a close second, but not close enough. you found it fascinating and promised him that you would check his channel out someday. 

that, to which he told you that he was embarrassed now and regretted telling you about what he does in his spare time. but you told him that he had nothing to worry about and that nothing could creep you out. 

you two spent a while talking to each other, even getting each other’s numbers at some point and promised to come here more often to meet other and do work together more often. 

“i actually had noticed you from the first time you came. it’s hard not to when there was a sea of people outside for you a couple hours later.” he told you. you covered your face with your hands, embarrassed that his first impression of you was that crazy. 

“i noticed you from the moment you walked in a few weeks ago too, i was a little sad when i had to leave.” you told him. 

“but please, no more speaking about the swarm of men waiting outside to talk to me. i am still as embarrassed to this day.” you started another sentence. 

“it was shocking, but i think i needed the experience, you know?” he laughed. 

you two sat there, next to each other until the sun sets, till the there was no sign of the sun at all, till the moon was high in the sky. 

you two didn’t realise how long you’ve sat there until his parents called him, asking where he was. and when your dad texted you. 

you two promised each other to come again the next day to meet and do work. actually do work this time, not just talk. although you both knew that you two would end up talking instead. 

with the promise to text you when he reaches home, he left the place and got in his car to drive home. 

that was nice. well, now you had something to write. 

with a smile etched on your face, you stayed in the cafe for about another two hours writing about the happiness you felt in your heart until you decide to leave. 

oh and yeah, he definitely texted you when he reached home. and fulfilled his promise to meet you again the next day, and the next, and more after that. 

you never ran out of ideas of things to write after that. it seemed that you had finally found someone who you could share new experiences with. 

and even after years of dating, he still teases you about writing multiple songs about him even before you started dating. 

god, he’s adorable. 

well, you could say that he wasn’t a creep after all.