#capable of being simple and having one layer of myself only! is my masking that good!! really!!!

[neptunite-stars]

doomscrolled for like 4-5 hours and i regret everything now.

[linkspooky]

ozone hawks wants to shelter jin from the coming storm of the hero invasion and know he’ll be safe when it’s over, even though he’s the one putting him in the most danger // writing for the jinkei bang written for this art by @comradetodoroki​

Storms have always put me at ease. 

There’s  something about the way they ravage our ridiculous world and wash it away like so much sludge. 

🌩️

He pulled his hands back through feathered hair. He smoothed it, only for it to pop back up ruffled again. It’s out of character. It’s anxious behavior. Hawks needed to be smooth. Water had to roll off of him and nothing could stick to him otherwise he would get weighed down. He’s just talking. Someone is talking. It’s amazing how his mouth is like a machine. He can hear the words come out and he doesn’t have to think too hard about them because he’s been trained at talking to others. 

But this guy. Jin. He’s easier to talk to than most. 

“It’s pretty dumb for a bird to be afraid of heights.” “Yeah, yeah. It’s bird brained.” “…You are my favorite person for saying that.” 

Hawks doesn’t bear his soul, that sort of requires having a soul and a soul is another thing that would weigh him down. Jin asked him what his fear was, actually Jin talked about his fears. It turns out Jin is afraid of almost everything.

Jin, Jin, he’s calling him Jin now. It’s Twice. Hawks doesn’t know if he’s scared of anything, but then Jin stared at him with those big eyes and he realized he was supposed to say something and ‘heights’ was the first thing that came out of his mouth. It’s not exactly heights, he can be in high places just fine. It’s the idea of falling. It’s out of his control, the falling. He doesn’t even mind the idea of hitting the ground. Just, smashing, and leaving a carcass of feathers, and fragile bones shattered. It’s the idea of falling forever unable to control his trajectory, utterly helpless. Falling at terminal velocity. The air doesn’t leave your lungs like you’d expect it to. And even though you’re surrounded by nothing but air, you’re suffocating, drowning in the blue sky. No, maybe it was the sky that scared him. 

Everyone else looked up at the sky and saw freedom. It was so liberating. The sky seemed endless to Hawks. But there was nothing to see. Jin suddenly threw his arms around him from behind, looping them on his shoulder. Jin- Twice was so touchy feely, and so heavy, almost too heavy as he leaned his entire body weight on Hawks. Hawks stumbled forward and hit his face against the glass of the window in the room the two of them used as a hangout. “Let’s go outside! No, I want to stay in my room forever. I’m never going to be a corporate slave, I’ll be a NEET like Spinner!” Twice tended to have two minds about everything, but Hawks was a good listener. “We can’t go out in full costume. People will see us.” Hawks wondered if he was really listening. Birds have a habit called mirroring. They can imitate the noises humans make with their mouths, they can say words, but it’s not like the words carry any real meaning behind them. Just a hollow imitation. He is a mirror that Jin looks into and sees a friend. Jin suddenly has a burst of energy and shakes Hawks by the shoulders. Hawks was shaken. His head bobbed back and forth. “Please, please, please. I’m not going to beg you.” 

“Look, at least one of us has to have common sense.” “And it’s me, right? Because I’m just a normal guy. I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jin.” 

“Yeah, totally.” Hawks doesn’t want to be mean. “You don’t want to be seen with me, is that it? Well, I’m too cool for you anyway.” Jin had stopped shaking him now, and Hawks kind of wished he would have kept at it. Now that they’ve both stopped, Jin’s hands were on his shoulders. His large hands, capable of holding so much. And Jin stared into his eyes. Jin is wearing a mask and yet his every feeling is so obvious. The emotions in those eyes… heavy. Heavier than the whole sky, like the sky’s weight bearing down on him, crushing him. 

“Yeah man, you’re way out of my league. The cool kids never let me hang out with them in high school. That’s why I became a villain.” Actually, he never even went to high school. “But that’s not it. It’s going to storm soon.” “Huh? So what?” “Can’t fly if my feathers get wet.” “Have Dabi dry them off for you!” 

“Um, thanks but no thanks.” “How do you know it’s storming anyway?” 

“I can feel it in my bones,” Hawks chirped. He can. His bones are light and hollow so he can fly, and when he was with Jin he felt a sort of empty pang in them. A feeling that made his toes curl, and his fingernails dig so deep into his palms that he left red welts. “Are you an old man?” “Something like that…” Hawks muttered. He certainly wasn’t a kid. He never was. “If we don’t go outside right now, I’ll cry. Is that what you want? You want me to cry? You meanie, big bully, villain, fiend! All of my friends will beat you up!” Hawks opened his mouth. He tasted only air. He dry swallowed. Twice smiled so earnestly with his whole face, in a way that it couldn’t be a lie. For some reason the thought of making him cry at this moment cut him. It peeled back all the layers, scars, skins, feathers, bone. Hawks was caught completely offguard. Bad, bad, bad. He was the one manipulating Jin, not the other way around. He couldn’t be moved by this he must stay firmly rooted to the ground. He closed his eyes and put on a smile, his smile so fake compared to Jin’s. “Awe man, I can’t say no to you, huh?” 

🌩️

“This is the best day ever. This is the worst day ever! I can’t believe it rained on our parade. Jin, you stupid idiot, who would ever throw you a parade?”

The pounding of raining, the rolling of thunder, both of them beat against Hawks relentlessly. The two of them stranded on a park bench. The noise of the storm washed away everything else, and it was like the two of them were the only ones there. If this storm was some kind of apocalyptic hurricane that washed away everything would and the two of them were the only ones left. If nobody was watching, under the cover of the noise of the storm, could he be his true self in front of Twice? Probably not. Anyway, enough with the deep thoughts bird boy. They walked for a little bit before it suddenly started to storm. The entire time Hawks studied Jin’s hand as if he was trying to comprehend the shape of it. He even tried to reach for it once, only to grasp at empty air when Jin suddenly got distracted by it and turned around. “Hey, a bird! A bird! Look at the stupid feathery asshole! You can talk with birds, right?” “God, I wish…” Hawks stared at the place where Jin’s hand was supposed to be with melancholy, but thought it was probably a bad idea in the first place. Then suddenly, Jin noticed and grabbed his hand. He made it seem so simple. Touching other people, being close to other people. Then the rain started, and the two of them were on the bench and Jin freaked out. He raised his hands up in the air, and played nice guy to calm Jin down. “Hey, hey, I don’t really mind.” “You should mind! You should care a little bit. You’re so careless.” Oh no, Jin was agreeing with himself for once. Hawks wondered what he had done. He could read the emotions on his face, but he didn’t really get what other people felt. He just knew he probably felt less than them, he was lighter, more hollow. “Oh come on, I care as much as the next guy.” That was a lie. He lied without showing anything. 

Hawks fidgeted. Sitting still was, hard, difficult. And Jin looked at him so intensely, in a way he wasn’t used to being looked at. He hated being scrutinized, was Jin suspicious? No maybe he just hated being seen. “You don’t care about yourself at all!” “What? We’re talking about me? Don’t I talk about myself enough? I’m a little bit self-obsessed. You know, pretty bird, pretty bird.” Hawks cooed. “You looked so upset! So I tried taking you out to cheer you up, but then I screwed it up and it started raining, and you don’t even care at all.” 

“Ah, I was sad?” Hawks head tilted, as if he might comprehend better by looking at Jin from a slightly different angle. “Hey, hey, no reason to be upset. Nothing bad is going to happen.” Lots of bad things are going to happen very soon. Hawks wing moved. Even though he was sure he did not give it the command. His wing moved on his own, it stretched into the sky and curled around Twice serving as an umbrella. His feathers stretched as far apart from each other as possible. He did not want a single drop of rain to touch Twice. He wanted Twice to stop shivering with the chill of rain.

How many people had he saved? Countless. Thousands, probably. He did it without thinking. He had complete confidence in himself. Then, why was he so afraid that he might not be able to save this one person. That he could do nothing to protect him from the coming storm. The people he saved were always faceless. To be honest, he was afraid of looking them in the eye. Even when they thanked him, he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t do anything special. He had never wanted to save one person so much. And he might not. He might let him fall. Twice’s words are gravity. They drag him back from where Hawks is always floating. “You’re not understanding me. It’s my fault.” “No, you’re not, it’s fine.” “Stop saying it’s fine. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Dabi’s going to light your pants on fire, then you’ll just be standing there without any pants and everyone will laugh. Liar, stupid, I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

Twice suddenly grabs his head. A piercing headache. A splitting headache. Hawks does not know what to do so he simply floats there, his hands just hanging there in the air unable to grab anything. 

“This is getting in the way.” Twice grabbed at his mask. He clawed it for a moment. It’s like he’s trying to scratch the skin off of his face. Hawks felt an immediate sense of danger. Fearful. Twice is broken. He broke into jagged edges. Glass that can cut and sink deep into you. He pulled his mask off slowly. 

“Hey, you should put that back on.” Hawks said, genuine concern creeping into his voice. He realized, he didn’t care about blowing the mission, he didn’t care about the hoops he’d have to jump through to explain being seen with league of villains Twice in public. He just doesn’t want to see Twice break in two pieces in front of him. 

“It’s fine, I won’t break apart if you’re here.” But I’m not here. “Hawks, I want to meet you…” “But, I’m right here?” “I know. What I mean is. I just want to meet you.” 

The mask was getting in the way. Of what? Hawks perched on the bench, his knees drawn up to his chest, huddling like a child. He made himself look as small as possible. A nesting instinct. He wanted to be cozy. He wanted to be comfortable. To feel like he belonged somewhere. Jin, sitting on the other side of the bench. Hawks’ wings outstretched, the two of them udnerneath the same unmbrella. Jin’s hair, bleached white by stress. A large scar running down the center of his forehead. A perpetual five o clock shadow. A latex suit that covered his whole body, and the muscles which bulged underneath. He could see the way they shifted  as his body moved and studied it in close detail. There was something about the way he was shaped that made him look comfortable to lean against. His toes tap awkward on the ground, because Twice is as bad at sitting still as Hawks is. The rain was so loud, and even louder is Jin’s breathing, and his heartbeat, and Hawks’ senses were finely tuned to both. Jin’s shoulders were broad. Hawks’ were concave and narrow. They were going to break. It was heavy, too heavy. Heavy like gravity. He noticed finally that Jin was drifting towards him. Jin was falling. Hawks has to look at him directly, what good is the terrifying draw of gravity unless you know what you’re facing. Jin’s lips get closer, and Hawks’ imagines what it would be like to be tickled by the unshaven scruff on Jin’s chin. There are so many details that make up Jin, and Hawks’ is just not there, he is not present, he is observing the scene from behind a pair of eyes but he can’t be there with Jin. He can never be there with anyone. 

“You wouldn’t like me,” He finally murmured. Hawks said, trying to get what’s happening to stop. “How come?” “Because I’ve met him. I don’t like him.” “I used to not like me either, but even when you don’t like yourself there are people that will like you.” Jin probably didn’t like him. Jin is just a person who would be kind to anybody. All Hawks needed to do was look a little pathetic and Jin pitied him. That was all this was. He was nothing special to Jin. He was nobody special. He had been told that enough times. If he died, if he fell out of the sky what would happen? The hero rankings would shift a little bit and that would be all. There were plenty of people that used him but no one really needed him. Jin gets closer and his lips pull back. Hawks’ contemplated what it would be like to be struck by lightning. A hot stinging pain, every single muscle in your body tenses, and locks. A whiteness you see behind your eyeballs. You spend an  eternal moment trapped, your brain sending signals but your body not listening to them, you tingle because your brain can’t comprehend the intensity of what you’re feeling. 

Is it painful? That’s not it, it’s a sensation that’s impossible to describe. Then you wake up after it’s done, and there’s a scar left in your skin. The point of contact between his land twice’s  lips felt like they were burning as Twice pulled away, or maybe that was just his imagination. The acrid smell surrounded him. His nostrils wee full of ozone. His brain was full of fear. The entire sky is contained in Jin’s eyes for that brief moment. There’s a queasy feeling inside of him, dizzying, and it’s the first time he’s ever felt the joy of vertigo. He doesn’t know where he is or how he feels and it’s unbelievably pleasant. Jin is the entire sky. Jin would never know how much Hawks wanted to throw himself into the arms of that vast emptiness. Hawks’ head is empty. He’s empty. But he’s not. He’s filled with secrets, and lies. When he wants to think about nothing more than Jin and the smell of ozones, a thought broke through. It’s like a crack in the mirror. Hawks immediately rocked back. You lied to him. Jin looks like he did something wrong. Hawks wants to tell him he’s done nothing wrong but that’s not true, he’s a criminal, a murderer. A good kisser, but with blood on his lips. Hawks’ hands flew in the air. “I-I’m just shy. I’m a shy bird.” He pulled the collar of his fur jacket all the way up to just below his nose to conceal the expression on his face. 

Hawks looked at the scar that cut cleanly across Jin’s forehead. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought. Jin who had given him so much, and Hawks would only give him scars in return. His hands, his lips. There would be lines carved on his skin wherever he touched. Hawks’ and Twice the fact that they met was an incredibly unlikely event like a lightning strike, and just like a lightning strike it never should have happened. It was luck, it was bad luck. He would mark him worse than any lightning strike.The places where he had once caressed so sweetly would only burn now. He should have smelled the ozone ahead of time. He should have seen the storm coming. But it’s too late now, and he’s stuck here with Jin, and he’s completely hopeless, and he can’t fly in the middle of a storm the wind will whip at him back and forth and the water will soak him, and chill him down all the way to the bone. Hawks finally gasped for air. Ozone in his lungs he had forgotten to breathe.” “Twice.” “Jin, you can call me Jin. I always call you by your first name.” 

“…What do you think my full name is?” “Hawks Birdman?” Hawks wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. He was someone who could not even smile correctly. “Wait, wait, wait, is that not your real name? Oh shit, oh shit, I’m so dumb. I’m so dumb.” Jin rocked back and forth and Hawks was completely still. He finally looked Hawks in the eye again. “W-we don’t have to kiss ever again if you don’t want to. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” Why was he the one apologizing? Why was Jin apologizing? “It’s really hard to tell what you like and don’t like sometimes. If I got something wrong, I’m sorry because I’m stupid, and I don’t think, but ummm…can I call you by your real name?” “One day…” “When?” “When the storm ends.” Hawks said. Everything he said so far to Jin was a lie, and that might also be a lie. But he didn’t want it to be.

[danijimenezv]

I Know My Worth

Prompt: “If there’s one thing I’m willing to bet on, it’s myself.”

Pairing: Clint Barton x reader

Warnings: Sexism, misogyny, slight abuse of power, low self-esteem, confidence problems, insults and mean remarks, medical emergencies, a few gross descriptions, swear words.

Word Count: 7968 words (oops, I got a bit carried away, sorry!)

A/N: Happy late International Women’s Day to all my fellow females out there! This was my entry for @captain-kelli’s Strong Women-themed 500 Fam Writing Challenge. It’s set prior to the first Avengers movie, when S.H.I.E.L.D. was still a thing. This turned out to be personal for me because it shows my own experience at becoming a veterinary doctor, most of them are examples I had to live myself, so please be kind with it. Also, everything in here is from what I know about medicine in animals, but I can’t be completely sure it also applies to people, so excuse my mistakes!

Being a medical student wasn’t easy, that was something you learned the hard way. It was late nights, crappy eating habits and stressful situations; your time stops being your own, having to prioritize most of your life, and most times you have to give up a lot. It was a marathon, not a sprint. All of that added to the fact that the whole environment was toxic, where egos clashed constantly, everything turned into a competition and asking for help was seen as a weakness. Now, as if that didn’t sound awful enough, being a medical student as a female was even harder. In a man’s world, medicine was no exception to sexism. Male students were praised, while female students were constantly doubted and made fun of, with remarks that ranged from their physical appearance to their capacities. For instance, girls were usually questioned about being able to take critical decisions in the ER when required, while no one ever implied that a guy was incapable of that.

Things didn’t change much once you graduated. It was difficult for most doctors to gain visibility and recognition once out of medical school, but it was even harder and more complex for women. Male doctors were constantly recognized worldwide for their feats, while female doctors mostly remained in the dark. Even as doctors, women have been known to have to fight for everyone around to take them seriously, having to work extra hard, go the extra mile, to be heard and recognized as they should.

Y/N Y/L/N was one of them. She had a love for medicine and a passion for helping people that made her great for a doctor. She had worked really hard throughout college and afterwards, which landed her a great position at the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, as one of their field medics. The problem? She was the only woman in the medical team, and the head doctor didn’t take well to that change.

Her nightmare began the very first moment she arrived at the facility. She had just gotten there when she saw a man on the floor, and she hurried to get to his side, immediately getting into doctor mode. She dropped her bag open by her side in case she needed her instruments, and proceeded to determine what was wrong with him.

“What’s going on here?” another doctor rushed forward, ignoring the small group of people already gathering around them.

“I don’t know, he was already on the floor when I arrived.” she explained, “Pulse is weak, he’s hypotensive. He also shows signs of low blood oxygen saturation, cyanosis and acute dyspnea.”

“What else, newbie?” he demanded in a harsh tone.

Y/N examined the man one more time to see if she had overlooked an important detail, before deciding to take out her stethoscope to auscultate, “No lung expansion on his left side.”

“Bring me the bag mask.” he ordered to someone else and they rushed away.

“Could be a hemothorax.” Y/N responded confidently, “He could have an internal hemorrhage in the pleural cavity. He needs a thoracentesis right now to drain the thorax or he’ll suffocate.”

“Then get out of the way and let the real doctors do the work.”

“I have what I need here with me, you can’t afford to wait until they bring you a scalpel and a chest tube, it has to be now.”

“If you fail, this agent’s life is on you.” the doctor barked angrily.

Y/N took a scalpel out of her bag and exposed the man’s side of his ribcage. She made a clean incision and pushed the tube inside. A second later, the liquid started to drain out of the man’s chest. Slowly, the agent’s respiration began to normalize, allowing him to breathe and get some much needed oxygen into his lungs.

“Doctor Rivera, Doctor Tate, get Agent Hall ready for surgery. He won’t be stable for long.”

“Yes, boss.” the other two responded and sprung into action.

The senior doctor then turned to Y/N, “Clear liquid, obviously not a hemothorax.”

“Pleural effusion. But it was still liquid compressing the lungs and he still needed the thoracentesis, whether the liquid was bloody, purulent or clear.”

“I still don’t trust your examination because I wasn’t there to see it, but your incision was horrible. You do know you have to make the incision at the fifth intercostal space anterior to the mid axillary line, right? Not the sixth nor the fourth. And you have to make a clean cut, not slice every layer individually.”

“Wait, I’m pretty sure I did make the single cut at the fifth space.” she defended herself.

“And to top it all, you seem to have a knack for talking back to your new boss.”

That made her freeze in her place, as Y/N finally realize who she was talking to, “You’re Doctor Blaine Fowler. I’m so sorry, sir.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have admitted you in here, a girl straight out of med school, but Fury insisted. Your recommendation letters were remarkable.”

“Thank you, sir-”

“It wasn’t a compliment, those mean nothing to me. See, you might’ve been a decent enough student, but let’s get something clear, you are not a decent doctor, got it?”

It was the first low blow in a long line of insults to come, to which she simply hung her head low and muttered a soft “Sorry, sir…”

“Listen here, newbie, you have been here all of half an hour, I’ve been in charge here for longer than you’ve been studying, so don’t get any ideas. Things here are done the way I deem it correctly. And I won’t have a young, barely-doctor girl disrupting my work, okay? You work under my mandate now, be sure to behave as such.”

“Yes, sir…”

That first day was the start of a complicated work relationship that only seemed to worsen for her.

*****

A couple of months into the job, things hadn’t changed much. When she was on duty alone, things weren’t as difficult. Y/N could make the decisions she thought right with no one criticizing her every move, without her boss breathing down her neck, waiting for her to make a mistake. However, Fowler was still her boss, which meant he controlled what procedures she could be included in, which weren’t many. He preferred to pick any of the other male doctors before her, and he usually had her do easy tasks, as if she wasn’t capable of doing more than that.

It happened when Fowler wasn’t around, which considerably lessened her anxiety levels. It was while she was processing a few blood samples that she heard a commotion approaching. She exited the lab just in time to see two agents practically dragging a third one. They left a blood trail on the floor while they looked around desperately.

“What happened?” Y/N made her way to them.

“Where are the real doctors?” the one on the left spoke harshly.

Translation: the male doctors.

“Shut up, asshole. She’s a real doctor.” the one in the middle, the injured one, groaned out, focusing his blue eyes on her.

Y/N had seen him around, but she had never really interacted with him before until that moment. His remark, while quite simple, still surprised her. After all, she didn’t only fight for her boss and colleagues to take her seriously, but also with some of the patients that for some reason felt safer with other doctors. She smiled at him gratefully, before examining him slowly. His dirty blonde hair was glued to his sweaty forehead, his breathing hard and labored as he clearly tried to ignore the pain, while one of his hands was pressing on his bloodied torso.

“He was near an explosion, and some of the shards hit him.” the man on the right informed, casting her an uncertain look but not quite as against her as the first man had been.

“We have to get you to a room. I’ll have to pull out the shards with tweezers and then evaluate if you need stitches and then bandage.”

“Where’s Dr. Fowler?”

“Not here. I’m the doctor on call today.”

“Think you can help me, Doc?” the guy smirked cheekily despite being in obvious pain.

“Come on.” she tried him from the other two agents, to get him to a room quickly, but the other two took a few steps away, “Agents, I need to take him in order to fix him up.”

“We’ll take him and go with you.”

“With all due respect, I work better without an audience.”

“Why? Otherwise you can’t concentrate? A few stitches that hard for you?”

“No, but just so I don’t have to listen to your idiotic comments.” Y/N snapped, getting irritated, “Agent…?”

“Barton.” the dirty blonde man offered.

“Agent Barton has to be treated quickly, and you’re not letting me do my job.”

“You heard the lady, Rodríguez.” Agent Barton said, “I’m going with her.”

“Barton, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Get your head out of your ass, Carson.” he let out a growl, “She’s the doctor here, she’s the boss. What she says, goes. It’s not that hard to understand, idiots.”

“Don’t you want to wait until another doctor arrives? Another one must be around.”

“No, I’m fine with her. And honestly, you’re lucky I’m bleeding out here on the floor, because I’d be a few seconds away from kicking your ass.”

The two agents left him with Y/N hesitantly, and it was clear they still didn’t trust she was capable of stitching him up, but Y/N didn’t stay to fight with them any longer. She wasn’t going to be able to change their minds anyway, and she was losing important seconds that she could use on her patient, so she turned around and lead Barton to the consultory. As soon as he laid down on the cot, she got to work, putting gloves on and getting everything she needed.

“Please tell me you have your tetanus vaccine up to date.”

“I think so.” Clint shrugged.

“Okay, good.”

Barton reclined back, letting his head rest tiredly, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain, but opened them once again when he felt her looming over him. Y/N worked silently but efficiently, having everything ready in barely a minute. She proceeded to create a tourniquet above his wound with a belt, trying to lessen the bleeding.

“Agent Barton, this might hurt.” she warned him kindly, holding the antiseptic up so he could see what she meant.

“You can call me Clint.” he tried to smile at her, but probably ended up wincing, judging by her answer.

“It’s okay, you’ll be alright soon, I promise.”

Clint hissed as soon as he felt the stinging sensation on his torso and clenched his jaw a few times. The doctor cleaned the wound, gently so she wouldn’t get any of the shards deeper than they already were, and wiped away the blood so she could see what she was dealing with.

“How much does it hurt?” she asked gently as she took the injection of lidocaine in her hand.

“A lot. I might die.”

“You won’t die, Agent Barton.” she rolled her eyes in amusement, “It doesn’t look like any of the shrapnel hit anything vital. It looks superficial. Though, I’ll conduct an ultrasound afterwards to make sure.”

“I told you, you can call me Clint.”

“Clint.” Y/N tried out the nickname and changed the subject, trying to distract him from what she was about to do, “Um, thank you, for standing up for me.”

“I shouldn’t have to. I’ve seen the way they treat you, and it’s unfair.”

“You’ve seen it? How?”

“I’m just really observant.” Clint shrugged in dismissal and looked at her seriously, “Why don’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s pointless. And if I talk back to Fowler, he’ll have me on cleaning duty instead of doing medical procedures.”

“You’ll have to face him eventually.”

“I can’t, Clint. Even if I want to, I can’t. My job is on the line.”

Y/N took the tweezers and began taking out piece by piece, starting with the smallest ones so there wouldn't be additional blood covering her view. She tugged at the shards with precise movements, trying to be as gentle as possible with him. Clint closed his eyes and waited for her to be done, prepared for the pain, though it never came.

“Fury wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Fury isn’t my boss, Fowler is. And I know Fowler answers to Fury, but Fury doesn’t usually get involved in the medical area.” she sighed, working the needle through the wounds, stitching him up, “Believe me, if there was something I could do, I already would’ve.”

“It’s not right.” he mumbled, “Doc, don’t let them walk all over you.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“My name is Y/N.” she smiled at him, bandaging him quickly, “Ready.”

“You’re done?!” Clint opened his blue eyes and looked at her in bewilderment, and then down at his bandaged torso, “I didn’t even feel anything.”

“Because I gave you a local anesthetic.”

“Well, that’s new.” he commented, “They usually don’t use that on us.”

“The point of an anesthetic is to reduce the patient’s pain.” Y/N said obviously, “If I can help with that, then I’m sure as hell going to use it. I really don’t get why they wouldn’t.”

“And that alone makes you a graeter doctor than all of them together.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You are. Not because you used the anesthetic on me, but because you care about the patient above anything else.”

Y/N didn’t answer him, but instead smiled at him gratefully. He had just met her, and still, Clint had been about the only one who had trusted her, who had believed in her.

*****

Since then, a beautiful friendship started to form between Y/N and Clint. He didn’t come back as a patient, but as a friend instead. When he wasn’t busy on missions, he dropped by the medical bay constantly, either to check up on her or simply to keep her company. He made sure she was eating at the right hours, drinking the necessary amount of water and taking breaks so she wouldn’t bury herself in work. He also was a welcoming distraction from the nightmare that was having to deal with her boss and colleagues.

That day, though, Clint hadn’t dropped by. She was in her office alone, catching up on some reading she needed to do, when another emergency hit. She rushed out of her office and ran through the place until she found her colleagues, who were rolling a gurney and probably heading to the OR for an emergency surgery.

“Out of the way, Y/L/N.” Fowler snapped, pushing her aside.

“What happened to her?”

“Acute liver failure, she needs to be admitted into surgery.” another doctor informed.

“Wait a second, you can’t operate on her!”

Fowler and the rest of the doctors stopped the gurney and stared at her mockingly, causing her to look down with her cheeks heating up.

“And why on Earth do you think we shouldn’t operate on her?”

“She’s decompensated-”

“Because of the liver failure, keep up, Doctor Y/L/N.”

“I get that, but did you stop to look at her medical records?”

“That’s the last thing you should be thinking in such a critical-”

“She’s hemophiliac!” Y/N shouted in frustration, “If you operate on her right now, in her state, she’ll bleed out on your operations table.”

“And if we don’t operate on her she’ll die anyway.”

“Fowler, think about it.” Y/N begged him, “You’re operating for a liver failure. If you by proximity happen to touch her spleen, you can cause an erythrocyte sequestration, and with her hemophilia, it could be critical and she’ll end up dead in record time.”

“Y/L/N, are you that incapable of making critical decisions that you even question our decisions?”

“That’s not it…” she sighed softly.

“I have a team of very capable doctors with me, we can handle it.”

“Her body can’t.”

“I want you out of here, Y/L/N. I won’t let you interfere with this.”

With a frown but firm determination, she stormed out of there and ran through the whole division, looking for that specific person. Y/N found him in the middle of training with Natasha Romanoff, but she didn’t care, she still barged into the room, making both of them stop and look up at her.

“Agent Romanoff.” she nodded respectfully before turning to Clint, “Clint, I need you.”

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

“You’re an O negative, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s an emergency. Agent Levi is being rolled into surgery right now for acute liver failure. But she’s hemophiliac, she’s an O negative as well, and she can only receive blood from another O negative. Fowler is just focusing on the emergency surgery, not the critical cares he needs to have for her condition.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Can you donate blood to her?”

“Lead the way.” Clint nodded decisively.

“I’m so sorry for the interruption, Agent Romanoff.” Y/N started to say, but Natasha raised a hand in dismissal.

“Don’t sweat it, Doctor Y/L/N. Go save lives.”

Y/N urged Clint into her office, getting the bags for the blood and the needle. She made a tourniquet on his arms and touched his arm gently, assessing his vein.

“I’m really sorry, I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t think it was an emergency.”

“Y/N, you’re the doctor here.” he reassured her, “You do what you have to do.”

“Okay.” she took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking hands, “Agent Barton, have you eaten something in the last four hours?”

“No.”

“Do you have a disease of any kind?”

“No.”

“Have you suffered from Hepatitis B, Hepatitis C, HIV-AIDS, Syphilis or another chronic illness that should be taken into account?”

“Nope.”

“Do you have multiple sexual partners?”

“Why do you want to know, sweetheart?” he smirked at her, and Y/N’s cheeks heated up in betraying as she finally realized what she had just asked him, “If you wanted a piece of this, you only had to ask.”

“I swear, it’s a routinary question for blood donors.” Y/N defended, looking around awkwardly as her heart raced with the incredibly pleasing image he had just put in her mind.

“The answer is no, in case you also wanted to know for yourself.” he chuckled, seeing her fluster, “I already have my eye on a single someone.”

However, Y/N tried to not let herself dwell on that bit of information. She already attributed her crush on him to the fact that Clint seemed to be the only one around who believed in her, who didn’t try to diminish her. She didn’t want to make it worse by focusing on it.

“Okay…” she drawled out, trying to place her attention again on the matter at hand instead of her feelings, “Have you received any organ transplants?” he shook his head, “Suffered from epilepsy, tuberculosis, severe cardiac disease or cancer?” he signalled no again, “Have you consumed alcoholic beverages, narcotics, or any intravenous or inhaled drugs in the last 12 hours?”

“Also no.” Clint raised an eyebrow, “Did I pass your test?”

“Yes, you can officially be a blood donor.”

Y/N extracted his blood as quickly and efficiently as possible, and once done, placed the bags in a small icebox. Then she went to the storage room and got all the medications she thought were needed. After telling Clint to wait for her in her office, she headed to the operating room. Fowler had already gone inside, but another doctor was just outside getting ready to assist him.

“Rivera.” Y/N called for his attention.

“What do you want, Y/L/N? I thought Fowler told you to get lost.” she pushed the icebox in his face, “What is this?”

“Agent Barton’s O negative blood. Agent Levi will need a continuous blood transfusion during the surgery. I also took, from another sample, adequate quantities of clotting factor concentrates, it should also be enough for the post-operative coverage.” she then took a few syringes from her pocket, “This is desmopressin, it can raise the coagulation factors levels to control the bleeding in case you need it. Only use it if Agent Levi gets hypotensive. If you decide to use the desmopressin, do not give her any NSAIDS or opioids. The pain should be managed with celecoxib or meloxicam, or you can use a combination of paracetamol with codeine or tramadol.”

“Why are you giving me the credit for this?”

“I don’t care about the credit.” Y/N huffed indignantly, “The patient’s life is more important than being right, even if I want to rub it in Fowler’s face.”

And it was true. Even if she later had to bear with Fowler praising Rivera for his quick thinking and precaution, if the patient was okay, she didn’t care much.

Rivera chuckled softly, “That’s impressive, Y/L/N.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Just make sure Fowler doesn’t kill Agent Levi, make sure she survives.”

Doctor Rivera nodded respectfully at her for the first time and headed into the OR. Y/N smiled in relief and finally slowed down her pace as she made it back to her office, where Clint was patiently waiting for her.

“Why aren’t you in surgery?”

“Because Fowler wasn’t gonna let me inside, even if I were the only doctor available.”

“Then who is giving Agent Levi my blood?”

“Doctor Rivera.”

“Why did you give him the credit for your quick thinking?” Clint huffed in annoyance.

“Because no matter who assisted Fowler in that surgery, Agent Levi needed the blood. I know I was right, I know I did the right thing. But as long as Agent Levi gets well, that’s all that matters.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I get that. But they won’t see you for the doctor you are unless you let them know.”

“You know I can’t do that.” she sighed, plopping down on the chair next to him, “I could find the cure for cancer, and they would never see it.”

Clint extended his arm to take her hand in his, squeezing it gently and rubbing soft circles on her skin, “They all will see it soon, I promise. You deserve that.”

“Clint.” Y/N calmed him, squeezing his hand back, “As long as the patients are getting what they need, I don’t need it. Yeah, it would be nice, but I care more about the patients. And if I have to let another doctor take credit for a win, then I will, as long as the patient is okay.”

Clint stared at her in pure amazement, his chest blooming with pride.

“Come on, Barton. Let’s get some glucose into your body.” she winked at him, “Doctor’s orders.”

He was definitely in trouble; he was falling for her, and he was falling hard and fast.

*****

Another day, another commotion. They were simply eating sushi in her office, hanging out, when they heard it outside. Y/N immediately sprung from her seat, offering Clint an apologetic smile, before heading out, and Clint followed after her, but they didn’t get too far, before they came face to face with two agents. Instead, they cleared the path for them and lead them into her office.

“What happened?” she asked as one agent dragged another one into the room. Both of them looked like hell; the more stable one had a few cuts down his arms and dried blood on his uniform, while the other one seemed to be in a worse condition, barely responsive.

“He was poisoned.” the agent dropped his partner on the cot, letting Y/N examine him as quickly as possible.

“He’s got dyspnea, mydriasis and ptyalism. I don’t see any visible rash or irritation around the mouth. Was it injected or ingested?”

“Either way, be prepared to induce vomiting.” Fowler walked into the room, focusing his piercing gaze on her, “Quick, Y/L/N, which emetic would you use for that purpose?”

“Apomorphine or emetine, but I wouldn’t use an emetic, sir.” she was quick to say.

“Why not?”

“We don’t know which poison was, it could be caustic and with an emetic it could burn down his anterior digestive tract. Also, he hasn’t displayed tremors nor seizures, so I think it’d be better to proceed with a gastric lavage.”

“And I suppose you have the exact antidote, don’t you?” he mocked.

“Well, no, but-”

“Get the emetic ready, Doctor Tate.”

“But sir, the induction of vomiting could be counterproductive.” Y/N added, “It could cause seizures, hypoxia, and severe depression or even induce coma.”

“Y/L/N!” Fowler yelled in anger, making her jump startled, “I don’t need you here to recite the textbook. Practicing medicine isn’t just evaluating symptoms, it’s a whole.”

“I know, but it could be more dangerous-”

“Don’t interrupt me. It’s very rare that the actual cases align perfectly with what you have memorized. And no matter how much time you spent preparing to become a doctor, you’re likely to encounter some things you never anticipated on the job. That’s what being a doctor is. If you’re not ready for that, the door is right there.”

Y/N was left standing there, opening and closing her mouth like a gaping fish.

“Fowler.” Clint growled in warning.

“No, he’s right.” Y/N mumbled like an scolded child.

She retreated to the back of the room, letting the other doctors conduct the procedures Fowler ordered. Clint immediately went after her and pulled her in a huge hug. He felt a few tears soaking through his shirt, but he knew better than to comment on it.

Clint hated everything about her situation. He had been close to shooting Fowler every time he had seen him bring her down like that, and he felt compelled to do it right at that moment. But Fowler could be dealt with, the other doctors could be dealt with. The worst part was that Y/N had started to believe what they told her. She tried not to let it show, but it was obvious it affected her.

“Maybe I’m not cut out for this…”

“Like hell you aren’t.” Clint pulled back so he could stare into her eyes, “Not all doctors can agree on a single course of action. You had your reasoning behind your suggestion, and it sounded damn good to me.” she didn’t seem to be listening to his words, “Y/N, you’re a fucking amazing doctor. I’m proof of that. I’m still here, aren’t I? And that’s thanks to you.”

“I don’t know, Clint…”

“Well, I do know.” he insisted.

“Thanks…” she whispered shyly, before hastily wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape from her eyes, “I hope you’re right…”

*****

Much to Clint’s anger, it kept happening more frequently. He watched as her voice got silenced time and time again, how her intellect was downplayed, how her confidence in her abilities was burned to the ground.

“Y/N?” he called yet again; he had been looking for her for the previous half an hour, not having found her in her office or around, “Where are you?”

Another half an hour passed before he finally found her. She was seating on the floor, in the less known part of the Division, probably so she wouldn’t be bothered, as not many people were around there.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” he started, before noticing that she didn’t move an inch, not even when she heard him, “Sweetheart?”

Clint crouched in front of her, placing two fingers below her chin and raising her face so he could look at her. Her cheeks were tear-stained, and her usually bright eyes were red and puffy, with more fresh tears making her way down her face.

She took in a shaky breath as she turned her head to free herself of his grip, “Go away, Clint.”

He knew what she was doing; she was pushing him away because she felt vulnerable, but he wasn’t going to allow her to do that, he wanted to be there, and he sure as hell was going to stay there with her.

“That’s not an option.” he took a seat by her side, “What happened?”

She stayed quiet for several seconds, ignoring his question. Or maybe pondering whether to tell him or not. Either way, Clint felt the need to repeat it. He hated seeing her like that, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make it better for her. Just as he opened his mouth, she beat him to it.

“A patient died. They couldn’t save him.”

Clint shut his eyes and winced, finally understanding. Every death was hard, he knew that, he had dealt with that ugly aspect of being a part of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he had never really stopped to think how it was for a doctor. They knew their patients, they saw everything happening, they had human lives on their hands. Losing them had to be like losing a part of themselves, Clint thought.

“He died of anaphylaxis.” she scoffed as if she couldn’t believe the situation, “He said he was allergic to diclofenac. I tried to suggest the use of a glucocorticoid like beclometasone, but Fowler said to administer instead a combination of indomethacin and ketorolac at the right doses.”

“Sweetheart, I wish I could understand what you’re saying…” he wiped a few tears away delicately and pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

“All of them are NSAIDs.” she explained bitterly, “The patient was allergic to NSAIDs in general, not only diclofenac.”

“But that’s not your fault.”

“I got the injection ready for them to administer it, Clint. I should’ve changed the medications, but I didn’t. And because of that, he died of an anaphylactic shock.”

“You can’t save everyone, Y/N.”

“You know, everybody keeps repeating that to me, ever since medical school; I’ve had enough of that. I have to at least try to save everyone. But here, they’re not even letting me try.” she complained, “I can’t do anything here. I feel so impotent…”

Clint didn’t know what else to say. Probably because he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it better. That situation was hard enough, and it added to the fact that Fowler already had her doubting if she was cut out to be a doctor. So instead of talking, he just held her for what felt like hours, he held her while she sobbed for as long as she needed. He kept whispering sweet nothings and encouraging words in her ear, holding her close to him. When she finally managed to calm herself down, she snuggled even closer to Clint, feeling clingy, but knowing he wouldn’t mind.

“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me.” Clint said seriously, cupping her cheeks gently, “I know you don’t feel like you’re cut out for this, but you’re so wrong. You always feel the need to justify why you’re here and how you got here, and you don’t have to. You just need to learn how to own up to your talent. You need to see yourself for the doctor you are, not the doctor Fowler is making you out to be.”

“I just…”

“I know it’s gonna be hard.” Clint added, “But please, do it for me. I need you to see yourself the way I see you.”

Y/N nodded timidly, first with hesitation and then more firmly, though before she could say anything, she found herself getting lost in his blue eyes. Words got stuck in her throat as he returned her stare with the same electric energy, looking down from her eyes to her lips and back again. They had no idea who leaned in first, but it was obvious both of them felt the exact same pull towards the other. Y/N felt Clint’s breath over her lips, causing shivers to run down her spine in anticipation. Clint wasn’t as unaffected as he later tried to tell Natasha, feeling goosebumps all over his skin at her closeness. Though, before either of them could make the decisive move, they heard a clattering noise somewhere nearby, causing them to jump apart from each other. Clint groaned in frustration while Y/N smiled with blazing cheeks, chuckling to ease the tension.

“We better get going, before we both get in trouble for not being at work.”

“Technically we’re still at work.” he answered cheekily.

“At work but not working.” Y/N pointed out.

“Fine.” he drawled out dramatically, “Let’s go.”

“Thank you.”

“But first, let’s get some food in you. Doctor’s orders.” he teased.

“You’re not a doctor.” she complained playfully, smacking his arm but still following after him.

*****

Y/N finally snapped a few months later.

It was long overdue, and yet, most of them didn’t see it coming; she had let them walk all over her so much that they never expected her to explode like that. But this time, it was personal.

She was late, which usually wasn’t a big deal for her since her involvement in the medical procedures was limited to whatever her boss wanted at the moment. Though, instead of being welcomed by the usually empty halls, the place was swarmed with people. Frowning, she picked up her pace and followed the sounds until she saw her colleagues arguing with someone else, while the rest of people limited themselves to watch the conflict. As she got closer and made her way through the crowd she noticed it was Natasha. For any stranger, it would’ve looked as if she was keeping her calm, but all of them knew better; she wasn’t yelling but she had that dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Miss Romanoff, with all due respect, you should let the experts make that decision. What you’re asking for, we simply can’t indulge you in that. It wouldn’t be right.”

Their statement showed the truth of the situation; it wasn’t really respect, it was fear. They were afraid of her, and with good reason, but they still didn’t take what she was saying into consideration. Natasha noticed all of that, and she was close to losing it.

“Fowler, I told you. I won’t hand over my best friend unless it is to Doctor Y/L/N, and only her.”

“Then you’re letting your best friend bleed out.”

“What’s going on here?” Y/N asked cautiously, looking between Natasha and her boss.

“Finally.” she muttered.

“Ah, Doctor Y/L/N, nice of you to finally join us.” Fowler scoffed, “Maybe you could deal with Romanoff’s wound while we do the heavy work.”

“Nat, you’re hurt.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes posed on her bleeding shoulder, but the redhead stopped her before she could get to her.

“Clint’s worse.” Natasha informed, “He needs you.”

She felt a sickening, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at those words, “Where is he?”

“Still in the Quinjet.”

“What happened?”

“We were ambushed. He got two shots to his abdomen, but they were too deep, so I couldn’t get the bullets out. He’s unconscious, he’s lost a lot of blood. It’s not good, Y/N.”

“Then why the hell hasn’t he been admitted into surgery?!”

“Because it has to be you.” Natasha looked at her seriously, “I only trust you to do it, and Clint asked for you. It has to be you.”

Y/N squared her shoulders, pushing aside her own panic and desperation. For the moment, she needed her focus. Clint couldn’t be her Clint, he had to be just another patient for her to follow through as she needed.

“You.” she pointed to a few nurses who had been watching everything, “Get the operating room and everything else ready.”

“Yes, Doctor Y/L/N.”

“Natasha, bring him in.”

Natasha nodded, smirking arrogantly over at Fowler before leaving to get Clint. Y/N started walking decisively towards the OR, trusting Natasha to bring Clint along soon. The crowd dispersed to let her through, not being used to see her in command. Fowler and a few others followed her.

“I hope you only said that to get rid of her.” Fowler scoffed.

“I didn’t.” she stated firmly.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You don’t have permission to perform surgery on a high-level agent like Barton.”

“Watch me.” she stopped to look at him defiantly, making him take a step back in surprise, “You heard what Natasha said. It’s a critical condition that requires immediate action, and yet you stood there arguing with her like the five-year old you are, Fowler, when the patient was dying.”

“You’re not operating on Barton, and that’s final.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I haven’t given you the clearance for that, and I won’t do it, so you simply can’t.”

“I don’t need your permission. The patient gave his oral consent, and so did the agent responding for him.”

“You’re not qualified for this.”

“The hell I’m not.” she raised her voice, getting agitated, “Fowler, I’ve had it with you, it’s been enough. I’ve caved in every time you criticize me, I’ve stood back every time you’ve decided something that has been less than ideal for the patient; I even had to watch impotently as a patient died because of your poor decisions. But I’m done with this, I’m done bearing with your stupid ego, thinking that you’re the only one that knows any shit around here, when you don’t. Enough is enough, Fowler. I won’t stand by your incompetence any longer. So either help the nurses prepare the OR or stay out of my way.”

She’d had it. Not only was she tired of everything that had been happening for months, but at that moment, Fowler had struck a nerve: Clint, who was one of the most important people for her. He had overstepped into a sensitive topic. She had seen the way he was with his patients, she wasn’t going to leave Clint in his hands, even if it was the last thing she did at S.H.I.E.L.D. before she got fired.

“A laparotomy is a complicated procedure.” it took him a few moments to overcome the shock of her talking back to him, but after he had recovered, Fowler mocked with a sneer, “And you think you can do it?”

“I know I can.” Y/N replied calmly, “If there’s one thing I’m willing to bet on, it’s myself.”

When Natasha finally arrived with Clint, Fowler put a hand on the gurney, effectively stopping it. Nat glared at him, and she was about to knock him off his ass, but Y/N raised a single hand to appease her, silently telling her friend to let her deal with him.

“Just who do you think you are?!” he barked angrily, “I’m only going to say this once, Y/L/N: step out of the way before you inevitably fuck it up and kill Barton.”

“And I’m only going to say this once: no, I’ll conduct this surgery. You’re wasting my time, and precious time for the patient, so make yourself useful and disappear.” she snapped, “I won’t let you operate on him, and if I have a say, on any other patient here.”

“Well, you don’t have a say.”

“We’ll see about that.” she promised dangerously.

“You’ll regret this!”

“I regret letting you get this far.”

“You’ll be out of a job first thing tomorrow morning.” Fowler threatened her, “And you think anyone’s gonna take you any seriously without a recommendation from your previous boss? You’ll be no one.”

“That’s it.” Natasha hissed in outrage.

“You speak as if you were the greatest mentor ever, as if working for you hasn’t been a nightmare. But guess what, Fowler? I don’t need to rely on you or anyone else. I know the doctor I am, and the doctor I can be, and none of them have anything to do with you. So, go ahead, do your worst. I don’t need your approval, and I definitely don’t need your validation. I don’t need a man to help me achieve anything. I know what I can do. I’m amazing, and I should’ve seen it sooner.” Fowler opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to come up with a reply, “So get lost, Fowler. I have a surgical procedure to perform.”

“What’s going on here?” a deeper voice interrupted, and everyone around stepped back out of respect, letting Nick Fury walk forward.

Y/N hadn’t interacted much with Fury, so she bowed her head respectfully and stayed quiet, letting someone else explain the situation but ready to jump at the chance to explain herself in case anyone decided to lie.

However, Natasha trusted Fury enough to let out just about anything that had been said and done, not only that day, but also before. Though, she recognized that roasting had to wait. The vital thing right then was getting Clint into surgery.

“Clint is in a critical condition, and Doctor Fowler here won’t let Doctor Y/L/N operate on him, when Clint clearly asked for her.”

“And you trust her?”

“I do, Nick.” she nodded solemnly, “So does Clint.”

“And can you do it?” he asked Y/N.

“I can.” she replied with certainty, earning a glare from Fowler.

“Then get to it, Doctor.” Fury ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Go, I’ll inform him of everything.” Natasha promised.

With a last nod in their direction, Y/N turned and took the gurney with her, taking an unconscious and barely alive Clint towards the operating room the nurses had gotten ready.

*****

The first thing that Clint recognized as he started regaining consciousness was the brightness behind his eyelids. He kept his eyes closed for a few more seconds, not ready for the intense light. Once he did, he blinked several times to get adjusted to his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be an internment room, connected to multiple machines.

“You’re awake, finally.” a voice called, and he chuckled as he noticed his best friend perked on a seat in front of his bed, “About time.”

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked, his throat feeling the soreness of not being used for who knew how long.

“Better than most of your body, I’d say.” she smirked, “You gave us quite the scare.”

“‘Us’?” Clint frowned, and Natasha signalled to his side, prompting him to turn as well.

That’s when he noticed the other person on the room. Y/N was on the other chair, fast asleep, with her hand entwined delicately with his, as if she had been afraid to even touch him.

“She hasn’t left your side.” Natasha informed him, “And not exactly as your doctor.”

“Did she-”

“Perform the surgery? Yes.” she said triumphantly, “You should’ve seen it, it was epic.”

“I should’ve seen it.” he agreed with her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Don’t do that to me again.” Natasha smiled at him, “But I think I better leave you two alone.”

As the great spy she was, she slipped out of the room practically without a sound, and just in time for Y/N to stir awake.

“Clint?” she gasped as her brain processed what she was seeing, “You’re awake.”

Y/N hastily turned to check at the screens, to make sure everything was as it should be, eliciting a soft laugh out of him.

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Are you comfortable?”

“Doc.” Clint stopped her, “I’m fine, and I learned it was thanks to you.”

“Don’t thank me, you could’ve died.” her expression darkened, “You were on the table for six hours. It was pretty touch and go for a while. I was so scared I was losing you.”

“You’re gonna need more than a couple of bullets to get rid of me.” he promised light-heartedly.

They talked about everything and nothing at all for a while, just sharing and enjoying their time together. Clint couldn’t help but notice just how right it felt. Being with her came easy to him.

“Fury fired Fowler.” she suddenly said, making him perk up in interest.

“Did he now?”

“Fowler kinda jeopardized your life by not letting me do the surgery. All because the patient was too stubborn and expressed that I was the only one to do it.” she teased, smiling at him.

“I wouldn’t say stubborn.” Clint smiled, “At least it worked. I knew you could do it.”

“And that’s how I knew too.” Y/N stated confidently, “Because you believed in me. You’ve always believed in me, even when no one else did, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

“And I’ll always be around to believe in you, even if I have to remind you any other time.” he promised, entwining her hand with his and pulling her closer to the bed, “But tell me more about how it happened.”

“I gave him a piece of my mind.”

“Did you, now?”

“Yeah.” she breathed out a laugh, “Full theatrics and all, you would’ve been proud. Maybe I overstepped just a little bit, but I can’t find it in me to regret it. And Nat filled Fury in about everything else that had already happened.”

“It was about time you stood up for yourself, Y/N. And for you to truly believe it, only you could do that.”

“And I have to thank you for that.” Y/N nodded, “You helped me realize that I’m not someone’s puppet, that I’m great on my own. Though, I would’ve preferred if you hadn’t put your life on the line for that.”

“I’d say it was worth it.”

“Not to me. I can’t lose you.”

“And you won’t. But please don’t let anyone else walk all over you. You don’t deserve that.”

“I won’t, never again.” she promised, sounding the more confident he had heard her ever since he met her, “I know my worth now.”

At those words, Clint couldn’t contain himself and pulled her towards him, finally crashing his lips to hers. He had been containing himself for months, but now he didn’t see why. Y/N smiled over his lips before returning the gesture and kissing him back just as fervently. Though, she stopped him before they could get carried away.

“You still have stitches, mister.” she scolded him, “I don’t want you to bust them open.”

“I have you to take care of me for that.” Clint joked, earning a roll of her eyes.

“At least buy me a coffee first.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing for months?” he huffed, “Coffee, burgers, sushi. I’ve tried everything.”

“Well, you’re not very good at asking out on an actual date, then.” Y/N remarked, “I would’ve said yes, you know.”

“You would’ve?”

“Yes. If it wasn’t painfully obvious already, I like you, Clint. I’ve had these feelings for you for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you, Hawk?”

“Because I didn’t think you returned my feelings, woman.”

“Well, I do, and now you know.”

“Is that an insinuation that I have to ask you out?”

“It would be a good start, yes.” then her voice turned shy, uncertain, “If that’s what you want.”

“If that’s what I-” he scoffed, “Of course it’s what I want.”

“Okay.” she smiled widely, taking his hand in hers, loving the feeling of it.

“What happens now?” Clint changed the subject, “Without Fowler around, I mean. I hated the guy and I hated what he put you through, but he was still the head doctor here.”

“I don’t know, I still have to talk to Fury about what’s to come, but for now, I really don’t care about that. I just want to spend some time with you.”

“Aw, you were worried.” he teased.

“And you’re an idiot.” she rolled her eyes, “But I guess you’re my idiot.”

“Always.” Clint grinned before pulling her to him once again.

*****

Tags:  @captain-kelli, @until-theend-oftheline, @thinkwritexpress-official, @missflashgeek, @sebbytrash, @captainrogerss, @beccaanne814, @higherfurtherfasterbby​, @peculiar-persephone​, @avengerofyourheart, @avengersandchill​, @avengers-x-reader​, @percywinchester27, @buckysberrie, @docharleythegeekqueen, @becs-bunker, @jadalecki-jackles, @scarlettsoldier, @feelmyroarrrr, @hellaqueerangelofthelord, @smoothdogsgirl, @mizzezm, @girl-next-door-writes, @sorenmarie87, @dottirose, @miraclesoflove, @rinthehufflepuff

[aaaa-mpersand]

Why I Love Hollow Knight

aka a super long essay I wrote about why this game is,,,, ridiculously good. Spoilers, though I’ve tried to keep them minor for the most part and as cryptic as possible, if you want to go into this game blind, this is not something you want to read. It’s part prose part essay part me waxing poetic. TW: bugs, minor character death, existential dread some quotes are taken directly from the game. They are usually in bold or italics. - - - Higher beings, these words are for you alone. Beyond this point you enter the land of King and Creator. Step across this threshold and obey our laws. Bear witness to the last and only civilization, the eternal Kingdom Hallownest. It was a long trek to the city, and even the nail that has kept all enemies at bay is starting to feel heavy on your back. You have braved acid lakes, fended off husks gone mad with The Radiance, climbed Crystal Peaks, and fought the Mantis Lords. Now, you are finally here. Past the city gate, into the cavern that houses what was once the heart of a great kingdom. The City of Tears

You stand in one of the city’s large spires, the endless rain pattering like piano notes against the embellished windows. These architectural feats were marvels of their time, a testament to Hallownest’s greatness, an open declaration of defiance against the water pouring down from the lake above the caverns. They were made to stand for eras, a love letter to the eternal kingdom. Now, Hallownest is a rotting corpse, and only the rain cries for it. Zombie soldiers, eyes yellow with Radiance, continue their endless patrols. Husks of citizens sit, glowing eyes unblinking, in their homes, dead enough to rot but alive enough to attack any living thing that comes by. The foundations of the buildings are already starting to wear. One day, they will crumble. One day, the lake above will run dry. One day, the rain will stop, too. You find a bench. There is already someone sitting there, a traveller you met along the road named Quirrel. He is a mysterious but polite fellow, with the simple goal of seeing all the marvellous sights of the world. On his head is a hat that looks more like a mask, black holes for eyes carved into it. On his back is a nail, one that looks much like yours. Travellers do not get far without them. He gestures for you to sit beside him. Even if you could speak, you would be too tired to say your thanks, much less argue. “The capital lies before us, my friend. What a sombre place it seems, and one that holds the answers to many a mystery,” he says, “I, too, have felt the pull of this place, though now I sit before it, I find myself hesitant to descent. Is it fear, I wonder, or something else that holds me back?” The only sound between the two of you is the soft patter of rain. If your silence disturbs him, he does not let it on. “Isn’t this a wonderful place to rest? I so love the sound of the rain upon glass.” You rest your fill, and you move on. At the center of the city, you find a collection of four carved statues. Three smaller ones surrounding a large––far larger than you––horned figure with black, hollow eyes. City of Tears––the rain pouring off of them certainly makes them seem as if they are weeping. Hornet, a spider-like creature with a shell that looks similar to yours, lands in front of you. Unlike your last meeting, her needle is sheathed. ‘Little ghost,’ she calls you. She tells you to seek the Grave in Ash, if you wish to play a part in Hallownest’s perpetuation, knowing the sacrifices that keep its crumbling remains upright. Using a thread of silk as a grapple, she leaps back into the murky shadows of the city.You cannot speak, so you only stare as she leaves. Turning, you read the inscription of the statue. Memorial to the Hollow Knight: In the black vault far above. Through its sacrifice, Hallownest lasts eternal. You look around at the empty streets, the pouring rain, the husk of a Radiance-crazed sentry with a nail driven through it lying on the cobbled pavement. Hallownest is already dead. --- Gameplay and storytelling: Immersion is a large part of every story, but Hollow Knight really takes it a step further. It is a metroidvania game, so immersion and storytelling through settings is pretty much a given in its genre. All things considered, Hollow Knight has a good, but not really amazing, storyline. Rather, it is the way that it tells its story that makes it memorable. Hollow Knight is a videogame first and a story after, utilizing its gameplay to tell its story better than words could. This is why watching let’s plays is enjoyable, definitely a wonderful experience, but there is a difference between dying five times trying to beat a boss or platform through an area versus watching someone die five times trying to beat a boss or platform through an area. There is a moment of surprise you wouldn’t get if you only watched the lore video, to see a character alluded to only by other people in an awed or fearful tone, only to find the hilarious but horrible truth of their fate, and their small stature. However, it is definitely possible for a person to enjoy this game without personally playing it. The setting and music are enrapturing. There are small stories in every new room and every enemy and npc you meet, the love put into every detail is astounding. Evidence of previous battles, the cracked husks of beings that look suspiciously similar to you, a hostile enemy still unaware of your entering, staring out over an endless lake, Hollow Knight makes the player feel like their story is a small part of something bigger, something more than themselves. A good example of this is a minor character named Tiso, a proud warrior who says he wishes to travel into Hallownest and challenge the colosseum there. If you decide to challenge the colosseum yourself, you’ll meet the enemies that he had to face, too––and maybe die more than a couple times trying to do it. If you travel to the Kingdom's Edge, you’ll find his shield and hat with a pile of other remains––all that is left of those who fail the tests of the colosseum. It is possible to go through the whole game and come out knowing not much more story than when you went in. Of course, if you did that, then that’s a whole waste of 15 dollars, and why the hell did you buy this game in the first place. Rather, through the large map and its immersive storytelling, the game makes the player work for the story. A lot of the storytelling is open ended too. Instead of info dumping everything, the game assumes that you are capable of putting the pieces together yourself. It is a strong case of showing and not telling, but it definitely works. This greatly encourages players to go out of their way to find out what happened before. Lore tablets––and text in general––are very sparse in this game. Rather than loading you with information and npcs to talk to, you’ll be overjoyed to find an npc hidden away at the corner of the map. Each one is important, each one has its own story to tell. There are no characters that feel like throwaways or filler. In addition, the player can obtain the Dream Nail, used to reveal any npc or enemy’s true intentions and thoughts. This adds yet another layer to the game; most players immediately go around swinging their Dream Nail at everything they can find after discovering this. In conclusion, Hollow Knight uses a lot of very interesting storytelling elements and tools in the most effective ways possible. Music, characters, text, setting, flashbacks. Nothing ever feels like filler, or something to be disregarded. Instead, there is a joy in discovering and in asking questions. In a way, the playable character is a vessel through which the player can hear the stories of other characters as much as they are going through a journey of their own. --- Story: Hollow Knight’s story is a very interesting take on the “Chosen One” trope, among others. It starts as a story we’ve all heard before, “oceans rise, empires fall.” Maybe it’s for that reason that the game keeps most of the backstory elements secret until the very end of the game, forcing you to dig for it and spend time on it. Meanwhile, you grow attached to the playable character, the characters around them, the world, and the story, so when the curtain finally rises on the hidden secrets of Hallownest, you feel its meaning as if it were your own journey. In the most plain terms, to avoid completely spoiling the game, the story is this. The playable character travels into the remains of a kingdom long fallen: Hallownest. Along the way, you meet characters that tell you more and more about the kingdom and how it got here. The Pale King, a god in and of himself, travelled to this place to build his own eternal kingdom, but in his goal to unite all caverns and areas of the region under his rule, he trampled the already existing gods past recollection. One of these is The Radiance, who in a desperate effort for revenge and self-preservation, sent a sickness upon the kingdom that turns bugs mad. In an effort to combat this, The Pale King created the Pure Vessel, the Hollow Knight, to contain it, and recruited three dreamers to seal it. But when the moment of truth came, and the Radiance was to be sealed away, they found the Pure Vessel was not entirely empty, it was filled with a hope for love and recognition from the Pale King. Hallownest fell to The Radiance. Now, your goal is to find a means to an end for Hallownest, caught in a fate worse than death. Along the way, you will find the truth behind your own creation, the story of the dreamers, and the extent of the sacrifices Pale King made to preserve his eternal kingdom. This story, if not driven by its storytelling, is driven by its characters. You meet, or at least hear of, most of the key characters in the story by the beginning of the game. The Pale King is referred to in one of the lore tablets extremely early in the game. The Temple of the Black Egg, its door sealed, is where you meet Quirrel. The Daughter of Hallownest, Hornet, tries to cut you down, claiming she knows what you mean to do. All of these happen in the first two areas of the game. For the rest of your game, you learn about these characters bit by bit. You interact with them. You find them in corners of the map you wouldn’t expect, and find yourself happy to see them. By the end of the story, you realise that you are much more entangled in this than you realised. The Pure Vessel and the story surrounding him is one of the best ‘chosen ones’ I’ve seen. Even the playable character is technically a ‘chosen one,’ though it takes the role because they are the best candidate, and not because anyone wanted or forced them to. Its fandom has one of the best found families, and the endings are open-ended enough that it doesn’t feel confining. This story has a lot of things to say about imperialism, power, ambition, sacrifice, fate, and relationships, and sometimes all of that can be found in the spires of a city, watching the endless rain patter against the windows as the piano plays in the background. --- My Interpretation: For a large part of my life, I was scared of the dark. I couldn’t bear to go outside to throw the trash out when it got too dark to see. It took me a long time––far longer than most––to learn how to sleep quietly in my own bed. For a long time, I didn’t understand this fear. Nobody around me seemed to understand either, when I asked them for help. Logically, I lived a sheltered life, and my neighborhood was safe. Demons, ghosts, monsters: they didn’t exist. It’s only now I realise that that childhood fear was rooted in this fact: you are a very small person in a very big world. You don’t know what’s going to happen to you. You don’t know what’s out there. You know, instinctively, that you are an ant. The universe is very big, much much bigger than you could ever imagine, and that it doesn’t care for you. Not for your ambitions, your dreams, your fears, your safety. Hollow Knight takes this and deals with it in a way that I love. It’s indicative in the first few moments. Your playable character is smaller than almost every other character in the game. You travel deep into a bug kingdom, much much bigger than you would have dreamed. Everyone around you is a bug too, from the meek to the courageous to the regal. Outside this kingdom is a bigger world, just as harsh as this one, maybe harsher still. All you have is your nail to keep you safe. Travellers before you have fallen. You are the only person left to pick up what’s left of their stories. The world is endless, it stretches in infinity through time and space. People have tried to conquer it before. They have tried to build eternal kingdoms, immortal cities, taking what is not theirs in the hopes that finally, finally, they will be big enough, they will be good enough. They have tried to delay the inevitable––that all things end. Mistakes have been made, evils have been committed. “This place is not a place of honor. No highly-esteemed deeds are commemorated here.” The world is big. Kingdoms are small. You are smaller. Still, you move on. Someone needs to put this coughing, dying part of the world to rest. You will get no lore tablets in your name, no statues to commemorate your deed. Yet you cannot find it in you to be affected. Somewhere, Hornet wakes up and finds herself no longer tied to protect a monstrous ghost of a kingdom, her future now her own. Somewhere, you put your siblings to rest, their lost souls and empty eyes now at peace. Somehow, that is more important, more eternal, than any city or any god. It will follow you even after you are gone. There is strength in being small. There is strength in not knowing where you come from, or where you will go next, but going anyway. There is strength in achieving great things, not because of recognition or greatness or immortality that could brush the stars, but because that is the story you want to live through. That is the footprint you want to make, even if it fades away with time. You enter a large world with a nail on your back, looking for the means to an end, and you leave with less. Perhaps there is wisdom in that.  (and can you believe that this is an indie game, made by like, idk 3 people?? And it’s 15 dollars for a game you can spend 48 hours or more in total on. Absolutely insane sksksksks i love this game)

[save-the-spiral]

InkWizTober Day Twenty-Six: Dark + Revolution

Welcome to day twenty-six of Inktober! Totally not day thirty! I’m back home from evacuating wildfires and such, finally can write again! This is a continuation of these two fics! Warnings for arachnophobia/spider stuff (paragraph right after ‘butterflies’ if you wanna skip), torture, and death mentions.

(link to prompt lists) (link to inktober tag)

Queen felt something wretched and crawling inside her abdominal cavity. For a moment she was concerned for her internal machinery, only to remember a human phrase.

Butterflies.

This nervousness, this dread, felt more like awful, hairy tarantulas like deep in the jungles of Skull Island, with far too many legs to be okay, all creepy and scrabbling through her wiring and gears. Queen shivered in fear and disgust, hoping to never encounter one in person. She might just scream and run the other way.

She drew herself out of her thoughts as Captain Avery began speaking again, his monologue wandering and so animated she wondered if he would bring out the puppets, as was pirate tradition. It would be more entertaining than his recalling of Queen and the young pirate captain’s past adventures, both stories she was very knowledgeable of.

It was only when he got to Valencia in his story that the faux heartbeat created by gears and pistons inside her began to almost audibly tick, and she was glad for the layers of muffling fabric and armor. The way Captain Avery grinned with several shining golden teeth, the way he savagely barked out his words, the glee as he described Kane and his court’s demise- her demise- it made her fingers twitch for her sword, to protect herself.

Her crew mate and fellow ex-armada soldier, Zircon, was standing even stiffer as she listened to Captain Avery’s words. She was almost creaking with the force of her tension, fingers gripping her mace too tightly, that Queen tried to settle her. One of her delicate gloved hands rested on Zircon’s slightly sturdier one that was already on Queen’s shoulder protectively. 

“While this tale is entertaining, Captain, I am sure we all could recite the story. I have informants from Valencia who told me as much.” Queen spoke up, glad she had modified her vocal systems after going pirate. It would be a shame if the young pirate recognized her within the minute and summarily killed her, especially when she just started lying and getting to the point.

“Of course, Captain.” Avery’s sly grin and sparkling eyes set Queen on edge in a way Kane and his lapdogs never could. There’s something so human about it, so mischievous for the sake of it. “Maybe proper names are in order, then. ‘Course, the young pirate has one, but everyone calls ‘em young pirate anyway. What about you? You have worked for over a year with too much mystery in a business so full of reputation.”

“I...” Queen wished desperately she had thought this far. Planning was more Sterling’s forte, she just edited the ideas into fun adventures. “Ferro. Captain Reyna Ferro.” 

I am. The stupidest creation in the Spiral. I just named myself something that translates to Queen Iron. Goodness, I wish I could be concussed just to slam my head into the table and forget this.

Captain Avery looked delighted, and the young pirate was exchanging wide eyes with their companion. 

“Well met, Captain Ferro.” The young pirate’s companion, a goose in Mooshu attire, spoke for the pair. “I am Egg Shen. We are fascinated by what you’ve accomplished.”

“Yes!” Captain Avery spoke again, putting down a gaudy tea cup on the table- without a saucer or a coaster, the monster. “Especially your work in Polaris and Marleybone. They’ve been beneficial for all pirates, guaranteeing that the two worlds will blame deserters from the other’s army! Ingenious.” 

“It was quite simple, really.” Queen demurred. “I am sure it pales in comparison to your own dealings with Marleybone, having created this haven, Captain Avery. I simply implied some things, made some people disappear who needed disappearing regardless.” 

“Still, Ferro. Not since my glory days have I heard of such an efficient and thorough plan executed with no mishaps- you must run the tightest ship this side of the Spiral!” Avery was eager, showing his hand. He was leaning too far into flattery, not getting to the point. It must be dangerous. 

Thankfully, Queen isn’t some man who needs their ego stroked. She knows what she is capable of, doesn’t need someone to compliment her when her work speaks for itself.

“It’s simply a matter of trust and similar circumstance, Captain.” Queen let her gloved finger trail around the rim of the wide, squat teacup in front of her, as if she weren’t thinking about her words. “I only hope my crew can be of assistance- I had come simply to meet you, but I am glad you seem to have a job that needs done. I’d love to prove that we have a place here in Skull Island.”

Goodness, playing the competent but in need of guidance pirate captain would grow old rather quickly. Luckily, Captain Avery was too determined to impress her more, the old washed up pirate he was. 

“Of course! We’re going to wipe out the rest of the Armada and their influence, as simple as that.” Avery stood tall now, chair almost tumbling on his thick decorative rugs. “We will finally rid the Spiral of their influence, my fellow captains! Together, we can pick off large fleets into bite sized pieces, chew them up, and spit out the cogs. Horrible for digestion.” He chuckled at his own joke, as if the young pirate and ‘Captain Ferro’ were not staring at him.

“Really?” The young pirate spoke for the first time, looking eager. 

“Really.” Avery was getting far too into this, considering his age. Queen hoped his heart didn’t give out, that would be annoying. “Currently they are leaderless- and we have all the connections in Valencia thanks to you, young pirate. We can do it all, and finally take them out. Valencia gets to set up a competent- a caring- government, pirates get to move far more freely through the Spiral, and we get credit for doing it!” 

Egg Shen was nodding. “We certainly have the resources. Our own crew is almost too many for our ship, and we’re owed favors from almost everyone important who’s worth knowing. That, plus Captain Ferro’s innovative plans and skilled crew, we could do it in a matter of months. We’ve already severed the snake’s head, this is just burning the body, ending it properly.”

Zircon’s hand on her shoulder was in danger of denting her metal plating. Queen stood, just so that her crew mate would release her, and so Queen would have level ground here. “I have terms.” 

“State them.” Avery said right away, slowly settling into his own chair, likely from aching joints.

“No one inquires as to the identities of my crew. We all have secrets, I am sure, and my crew’s faces happen to be ours. Also.” Queen felt something wrenching and awful in her gut, something wrong about just slaughtering beings that were like her, that bled oil and never slept, that had potential to feel but could not yet. “We capture as many as possible. My crew deals with them. I know that the Armada tend to die before accepting defeat, but-”

“No, no. I understand.” Avery cut her off. It pissed her off. “We all have grudges, the Armada’s likely effected you and yours as well. Just do your torturin’ and killin’ on your own time after battles.” He waved her off, and it made Queen wish she could cut that hand off. 

Having a man act as if she needed his permission made her furious. It made her feel helpless, like she was just waiting for Kane’s next order again, was just a puppet, a doll, a thing, existing only for the Armada, the cause-

Zircon’s free hand caught hers, held it- and goodness that gesture was just so alive, needing comfort was so alive, it helped snap Queen out of her rage, her flashbacks. She sat back down. 

“Of course. We are professionals.” Queen finally said, voice firm. Zircon finally sat beside her, no longer looming over the room. 

“Not too professional, I hope. Would be dreadfully boring, wouldn’t it, Captain Ferro?” Avery grinned.

“Oh no, Captain. I assure you, we know how to have fun.” Queen’s lilting tone was light, playful, coy. She tilted her head, masked face blank but the gesture full of an almost childish air. “I am sure there will be plenty of opportunity to show you while we decimate the Armada, no?” 

[lawofavgs]

The Sacrifices We Make - Chapter 6

A/N: I swear, I haven’t forgotten about this story! Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Despite my best efforts, there weren’t many places to hide from Brian Fraser in and around Lallybroch. Visiting tenants and tending gardens could only keep me occupied for so long, and it was only a matter of time before I was forced to face the questions no doubt swirling in his mind.

And even if I could, I wouldn’t lie to him, not after all he had done for me.

So when he invited me to sit and have a meal with him at the impressive dining room table, I took a seat and mentally ran through what I would say to him.

While he didn’t come right out and say it, Brian seemed to have no intentions of beating around the bush with small talk. He simply took a deep breath, chose his words, and stated, “The father of yer child, I assume ye had to leave him on the other side of the stones at the fairy hill.”

“Yes,” I replied, taking a moment to even out my shaky voice. “I married him in 1743. He couldn’t travel through the stones, and he knew he had to fight the final battle at Culloden Moor.”

I watched him nod slowly, and despite the mask he wore to shield his emotions, I knew where his train of thought was heading. He took a healthy swig of the whisky in front of him, tapped the mug with his finger, and held a tight rein on his composure. He looked every bit the Laird he was, strong and calm and controlled.

“Ye came here six years ago to warn me against tragedies that would befall my family, said it was because the Frasers had always been good to ye. Is…is Jamie…”

“He is,” I interrupted before he could fully get the question out. Just saying it – to anyone – lifted some of the weight that had been sitting on my shoulders since I arrived back at Lallybroch and discovered how life had turned out after my intervention. In the face of dealing with the conflict with Jamie and subsequent thawing of his emotions, it was easy to forget the issue of my baby’s parentage, but the relief I felt was proof of the burden. Now, my only fear was Brian’s reaction.

I watched him digest the information, eyeing the meager plate of food on the table that he had barely touched. Finally, a small smile appeared on his face.

“I always told the lad that when he met the woman for him, he’d ken her right away. I worrit though that perhaps I set his expectations too high. Any lassie that caught his eye never held it for long, and he’d tell me she wasn’t the one. I almost feared he would never marry and have a family of his own, but maybe it was because his heart kent to wait for ye.”

My own heart soared at his words, at the thought that on some level Jamie knew to wait for me. I told him once that the only way I could explain my ability to time travel, the fact that I was brought to him, was because he and I were meant to be together. We were soulmates, in every clichéd sense of the word. I had spent many nights recently trying to figure out this new layer of my travelling capabilities. Did I create an alternate timeline by changing things? Where in this blasted universe did I exist? Questions I couldn’t figure out the answers to plagued my mind, creating confusing tangles out of my trains of thought. The only constant that I knew for sure was my love for Jamie, and maybe that was enough of an explanation.

“He doesn’t know,” I informed Brian, watching him nod in understanding. “I haven’t figured out a way to explain it to him. He’s only just started to accept my presence here and I didn’t want to do anything to damage that.”

“I’ve seen the lad, Claire. I’d say it’s more than simply accepting yer presence. I kent it as soon as I saw him escorting ye back to the house. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. I thought for sure he would trip over his own two feet,” Brian disclosed with a grin. “Any ill-will or mistrust he once felt towards ye is a thing of the past. I dinna ken how you should tell him the truth of things or how he’ll take it, but he’ll trust yer heart. That’s the type of man my son is.”

I smiled warmly, covering his weathered hand with mine. “He’s a good man, just like his father.”

My smile was returned tenfold before Brian nodded almost bashfully and turned his attention back to his food. As we ate in a companionable silence, I couldn’t help but wonder if telling Jamie would be anywhere near as easy. All I could do was hope, and practice the words until they made some semblance of sense.

Before he left the room, Brian turned to me with a pleased, faraway look on his face. “Another grandchild. We certainly have been blessed.”

Little did we know, even the most blessed cannot stay that way for long.

---

The morning had barely begun, the sun slowly touching the rolling hills of heather and the inhabitants of Lallybroch finishing with their breakfasts, when a breathless stable boy came bursting through the door.

“Redcoats,” he gasped out, fighting valiantly to speak despite his windedness. The boy must have ran a great distance with his message, as evidenced by the trails of sweat tracing down his forehead. I turned to look at Brian, who squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.

“Jamie, get in the priest hole,” he ordered before giving Ian a nod, its meaning clear: take care of your family.

“Da, I –“

“Now!” The sudden boom of Brian’s voice startled me, the first time I had heard that tone from him in the month I had been here. The muscle in Jamie’s cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw and the desire to defy his father raged in his eyes. In the end, deference and obedience won out as he reluctantly acquiesced.

“Come, Sassenach,” Jamie’s gruff voice broke through my thoughts and I stared at him in a stupor. His annoyance at his father’s command and worry over the situation meant his patience was limited. “Come now before they question what an unmarried Englishwoman is doing in a Scot’s manor.”

Without waiting for my response, he grasped my hand tightly – the same hand I had once healed as best I could, one that now bore no signs of being crushed by evil masquerading as a man – and pulled me towards the secret room in the house. I felt every millimetre of contact between our fingers and palms, my skin tingling from the simple touch. I followed behind him in a daze, our footsteps echoing over the stone floor. We stopped before a wooden panel and I watched as Jamie pulled it and its mortar frame up. The barest amount of light in the hallway showed the ladder leading down into the hidden space, and Jamie guided me towards it with no hesitation.

Should a person have a fear of enclosed spaces, this would certainly not be the place for them. Seated on a bench, I took in the contents of the room without turning my head. The sound of Jamie replacing the wooden panel held my attention, and the limited light was cut even further once his task was finished. Only the weak beams shining through the drilled holes allowed us any sight at all.

In any other circumstance, watching Jamie’s large frame lumber down the short ladder and fill up the space around us would be amusing. But nothing seemed very humorous with the Redcoats on our doorstep.

I was struck with a sudden thought: I had told Jenny to build this hideaway, back before I changed everything. “Whose idea was the priest hole?”

“Da’s,” Jamie muttered, clearly distracted by the situation and frustrated over being hidden away instead of helping. He was a man of action, one not used to sitting on his hands while others tended to a situation. “After ye came ‘round the first time, he eventually started ranting like a madman, saying we needed a place to hide from the English.”

I nodded, eyes darting from Jamie to a jug of water, the chamber pot, and back to Jamie. His tense stance didn’t lessen, and I expected this ‘wait for the all clear’ plan coupled with the small room would do nothing to ease him. I shivered slightly at the colder temperature of the hidden room, which caught his attention. Before I could blink, he grabbed a folded up blanket and draped it carefully about my shoulders with a nod of satisfaction.

“Sit,” I implored him, scooting to one side of the bench to allow him room beside me. He did as I instructed, and even if I had moved half off the tiny seat, I still would have felt the warmth of his side against my own. As it was, we sat with knees, hips, and arms pressed together. My heart, up until now only mildly affected by the fear of the Redcoat patrol, was now beating double-time over the proximity.

‘Control yourself, Beauchamp,’ I told myself, ‘this is not the time.’

I was suddenly sweltering under the thin, raggedy blanket.

“I hate this,” Jamie snarled out, annoyed by the impotence he felt in this scenario. “I am a man grown. How can I be expected to take over the title of Laird Broch Turach if my father hides me away like a helpless wean at the first sign of trouble?”

“Have you tried talking to him? Preferably when the English aren’t on your doorstep?”

“Aye, every time the Redcoat bastards leave our lands, it’s the same argument. He just tells me I’ll never be Laird if I’m dead and walks away.” I could practically feel the thrum of agitation coming off him in waves, washing over me in the crowded hiding spot. If we weren’t careful, his emotions would drown us both. I didn’t allow myself to think as I scooped up his hand and cradled it gently between my own. We sat silently, the pace of our breathing syncing as the seconds passed.

A huff of a laugh broke through the quiet and I could see Jamie turn slightly to eye me. “Are ye sure you arena a witch? It certainly feels as though you’ve placed me under some kind of spell at the moment.”

“I swear,” I reaffirmed, chuckling around the words, “I’m not a witch, or a fairy, or the Loch Ness monster.”

That got him laughing harder as he squeezed my hands tightly. His proximity was not lost on me, covering my side like a shadow. With his eyes gazing into mine, I would happily sink into the depths of the ocean blue before me. The light around us might be weak, but I believed with my whole heart that his glance dropped to my lips, that his pulse beat as quickly as mine as the tension rose.

The muffled sounds overhead broke our revere, words not discernable but the accent clear. It was an Englishman, stomping down the hall and speaking in an accusatory manner. The soldier stopped before the wooden panel, casting the room into darkness as he blocked out the weak light. It sounded like he was asking about the ventilated area. Holding my breath, I took comfort in Jamie’s presence beside me, in his work-worn hand gripping mine in reassurance.

We would be okay. He would keep me safe.

Though it felt like hours, it was only a minute or two before the Redcoat moved on, apparently satisfied with the answers and explanations he was given. I screwed my eyes closed tight and let out a ragged breath.

“Dinna fret, Sassenach. We’ll be out of this wretched room soon.”

“I know you wanted to be out there with your father, but I’m really glad you’re here with me, Jamie,” I admitted quietly, suddenly fascinated with the shoes on my feet. I was startled when I felt warm fingers on my chin, guiding my face to look up at his.

“You have kept my family safe. And for that, I swear to ye, we will see you safe.” The raw honesty in his voice was a strike to the ribs, making it hard to breathe normally. I wanted to say something – to thank him or tell him of my love for him – but the moment ended when the wooden panel overhead was removed. For a brief flash, Jamie laid his hand upon the handle of his dirk before recognizing the face of his brother-in-law, who promptly informed us that the Redcoats had moved on and it was safe to come out of our hiding place.

I moved mechanically, climbing up the small ladder with Jamie’s assistance and making my way down the hall. The sound of my steps on the stone floor thumped in time with my racing heart, a fearsome beat I had no chance of controlling. My desire to flee to the sanctuary of my room was snuffed out when I saw Brian, hand pressed to his forehead as blood trickled out of a head wound and through his fingers. I wasted no time hunting down a few clean cloths and ordering Mrs. Crook to boil one of them. Despite his grumbling and protests, I managed to get Brian seated in the parlour while I tended to the cut. A sigh of relief left me as I confirmed it to be a superficial injury. As I patched him up, I heard Jamie pacing back and forth behind me, ready to explode.

“Those bastards,” he gritted out, eyes never leaving his father. “I should have been there with you!”

“And what good would that have done, eh? Yer temper and stubborn pride would have made matters worse. We’ll no’ make ourselves a target for the Redcoats.”

“We’re Scots! We’re already their targets!” Jamie’s snarl rattled straight to my bones. Sadly, he was right. The British government hadn’t even passed the Act of Proscription yet. The worst was yet to come.

Without waiting for his father’s response, Jamie turned on his heel and stormed out the door. His heightened emotions lingering in the room coupled with the events of the morning caused a tremor in my hands as I worked to bandage Brian’s wound. Once the task was finished, I shared a look with him, my unspoken meaning clear: I would go talk to Jamie.

He didn’t necessarily belong down in the priest hole during times of potential conflict, but his hot-headed reactions could get him killed.

Something had to give.

[katsitting]

17&63? This could turn out to be shit if it’s in i.e ww2 or smth idk you’re the writer xx

War AU +  Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple.

I don’t know what you want me to do here, but let’s see what my brain decides. You also didn’t give me a ship, so let’s simply defer to tomarry.

Warnings: Corpses, Blood, Unhealthy relationships, and standard war themes.

Everyone knew. 

The stares at the back of Harry’s head, pitying and upset in equal measure, telling of this point.

He hadn’t wanted this, but this was the reality of a world where the government as they knew it painted a target on their backs. No one was safe. The rebels were being picked off one by one, a spy within their ranks feeding information to the opposing side.

No one could be trusted. There was no such thing as friends, not when everyone simply aimed to survive.

But how did Harry fit in in all this? How was he caught between two beasts in this war?

Simple. He’d fallen in love with the wrong man. 

He fell prey to a monster that hid behind the face of a sweet and earnest man. A man that had never experienced love, that had never experienced warmth, or true friendship. 

Harry had wanted to give that to him, to show him before it became too late, before he was beyond saving.

And now, he was paying the price. The leader on the other side of a war that he had never wanted to fight. He didn’t want to be the leader, to give the command that would snuff out the life of a man he should hate, but couldn’t. Even betrayed as he was, he never could manage to stamp out the goodness in his heart.

So perhaps, the more stubborn in his ranks were right in mistrusting him. They were right in avoiding him when they could, giving him a wide berth when he stepped into the tents to gather his supplies before a raid. 

There was much doubt if he himself, given the opportunity, would be able to lay the killing blow, and they were right to feel this way. Harry too had his doubts, his heart ached with each whisper of Tom’s name--or the stupid title he’d given himself before he’d turned on Harry.

Still, Voldemort--Harry’s heart tried not to burst from just even the mention of such a name--had to be stopped. He couldn’t let this war go on with hundreds--if not thousands--of casualties on both sides.

No one was safe. Not the soldiers, not the generals, not the civilians, not the children, not the animals, not this world.

Everything was burning, and Harry wondered if it wasn’t too late to put out these flames. After all, there was simply no going back for him, not when he loved a monster, not when he still fucking hesitated, to put a bullet between the man’s eyes each time his gun was pressed against Tom’s--no, no, no, that’s not Tom, and you know it, he’s Voldemort, say his name you coward--temple.

“Harry.” 

A soft breath escaped him at the sound of Hermione’s familiar drawl. It was low, nearly a whisper. It was a miracle he had even heard it with the storm raging outside the tent and the shouts ringing in the night. 

There was no pause button when it came to war, only action, even when the sun has long since set, when this should be the time for rest.

But the wicked don’t rest. Don’t you know that, Harry? With how often Tom kept you up into the late hours of the--

Harry stamped out the thought before it was finished, casting Hermione a wary glance.

There was a furrow between Hermione’s brows that not even the tight ponytail restraining her riotous curls could eliminate. It was incredible just how much a person aged when caught in the cogs of war.

“We’ve found a body. I think you should take a look at it.” Hermione’s eyes were brilliant, like they’d bottled fire within their depths. 

The fact that she had come in Ron’s stead to deliver this message was bad enough. Ron was shite at delivering bad news, always caught between an angry bellow and cry when a soldier was killed in battle. Many spoke terribly about him for that, but Harry found it comforting. It was good that there were still people capable of empathy, capable of mourning without the decay of listlessness and ennui buzzing in the back of their heads.

“That bad?” Harry asked, throwing on a rain parka made to protect him from the rough elements outside. It wasn’t raining now, but it would be soon. There was something about England that attracted such horrid weather, even a good hundred miles away from civilization. 

“You’ll see,” was all Hermione said before crouching out of the flap in the tent. Harry followed after her, keeping a good pace with her brusque path through the shrubbery of the forest floor. 

It wasn’t far, but it was always wise to prepare as if one were going to head further out than was planned. It was this caution that had saved his neck many times. The recklessness of his youth, the brashness, and brazenness of his actions would do nothing but fan the flames of war. It was because of that recklessness that he had even met Tom in the first place, that he had stumbled into his bed and became caught in one of the many masks of a monstrosity.

When Hermione finally stopped, Harry did too. The stench of something vile swarmed him, and Harry swallowed down the bile and his disgust. Someone was dead alright, and had been for some time.

“Look.”

Harry stepped around Hermione and stopped dead in his tracks. Grief overtook him, his spine nearly bowing from the weight of it as he took in the terrified face of one of his soldiers. It had been the youngest amongst his recruits, a simple man that had wanted to do his part.

At first, Harry had found his energy and hero worship irritating, undeserving in fact. He was no hero. He hadn’t been for a long time, not since he--

“Colin.” The name fell easily from his tongue, burning its way up from the pit of his stomach and up his esophagus. Harry wanted nothing more than to shoot back cheap whiskey to mask the bitter pang of sorrow.

“Shit.” A hand made its way to his shoulder, its warmth penetrating the thick parka and the layers of clothes beneath it.

“There’s more.” Harry raked his fingers through his hair, already dreading what would come next. The fact that Hermione had not outright said anything, but waited for him to compose himself before doing so spoke volumes.

“We found a message on his body when we found him. It’s for you.”

Swallowing hard, Harry moved without being told to do so. Hermione pulled something from out of her pocket, handing it out to him.

He shifted his gaze away from it, taking it from her hand, hating the look of apology in her gaze. This wasn’t good.

“I’ll leave you alone. Travers, Lee, head out. We need to see if the rest of the men that left with Ceevy are here.”

With that, the men stood to attention and dove into the shadows. They didn’t turn to look at him, but he could feel their judgment. Nothing could hide that, could erase it. This was how it always went, who he was to his men.

Hermione was the last to leave, a sad smile twisting up her face between she turned and left, leaving him alone with Collin’s cold body and the creatures buzzing in the night.

Taking a slow breath, Harry opened his hand revealing a folded piece of paper. It was thick, a familiar scent wafting through his nose.

It was Tom’s. Harry could never forget it.

All the nights of them in bed, Tom’s sweat-slicked hair and his neck beneath his tongue, bitter and sweet with his cologne. It made his throat tightened, a burning sensation creeping up his nose.

Steeling himself, Harry opened the note and began to read.

Dearest Harry, I hope you are doing well for yourself. Every day I find myself wondering when you will cease this pretense of caring for others and realize where it is that you truly belong: at my side. After all, I am only doing as you asked. To change this world, one must raze it to the ground and start again. You know this. This world is beyond saving.

Tears burned in his eyes, but Harry refused to let them fall. His fingers tightened on the edges of the paper, threatening to tear the fancy parchment in half. 

I still recall the taste of your lips against mine, dream of your fingers knitted between mine after an evening of lovemaking. I remember how much you enjoyed it, adored the warmth of my skin pressed against yours. You were never shy about your admiration of me, just as I was not afraid of my adoration for you.

Harry wanted to laugh, then. Tom loved no one, save for himself. He was incapable of it. These were just pretty words to bring him over, to play with his emotions as they often were. It was what he did whenever he knew he did something wrong, whenever he had hurt Harry in some unfathomable way and wanted to ease the sting.

The question was just what was Tom apologizing for? He’d never apologized for this war, never gone out of this way to write some pretty words and leave them with the fallen in battle. Tom reserved his words for special occasions.

Anxiety twisted his belly into knots, and Harry dove right back to Tom’s message, knowing that there was something terrible to come.

But this is not why I write to you now. You know the extent of my affections for you, although you undoubtedly question its sincerity. Harry, if you are in possession of my note, then you have perhaps found the body of one of your men. He was rather young to be involved in our war, it was almost a shame to see the light die in his eyes. I found it interesting that the last thing he said was your name, here I was certain that most of your men hated you--questioning whether you were truly on the side against my reign. Everyone knows who you are, Harry. Who and what you meant to me in my youth, who you had become in my eyes, and what you did to inspire me righting the wrongs in this world.

Harry scoffed. Tom was never altruistic. Had never been and never would be. He did nothing without expecting something in return. 

However, it seems that some have misconstrued the nature of our relationship. I have remedied this.

A shock of ice shot up his spine. It was certainly no secret that Tom and him had been an item once, but for Tom to go out of his way to tell others--

Friends, Harry? Hardly. We are so much more. And I hope that after you’ve received this message and the gift I have personally delivered to your tent, you will see that as well. Sincerest regards, Lord Voldemort.

Harry crumpled the letter in his hand, his realization fueling his movements.

He ran back to camp, fingers releasing his gun from its holster as he wove through the trees. He was familiar with the area, but Tom had promised an unwanted visitor. He was up to something, something between the spaces of the words that were more than the threat of exposing the more salacious nature of their relationship and murder.

A flash of light ahead of him nearly blinded him, and then he stopped, walking slowly through his camp with his gun now up and ready. It was quiet, the rustling trees and the sound of animals baying in the darkness the only interruptions to the quiet.

It made him nervous, a slow trickle of sweat gathering on the back of his neck when he saw no sign of any of his men on the camp.

He took slow and steady breaths with each careful step, counting the seconds in his head and listening for anything that broke the still air around him. 

This went on until he finally made it back to his tent, the flap wide open and lit. It was a white light, different from the yellow one standard in his camp. 

Grip tightening on the gun, Harry parted the fold with one hand while keeping a steady grip of his gun, and entered.

Harry nearly dropped his gun. 

There was blood everywhere. It was smeared on the cloth, on his desk, on his bed. There were dismembered arms shaped into the symbol of a heart. 

Bile rose up his esophagus, but he didn’t throw up even when he wanted nothing more than to do just that. 

Because for all the macabre in his tent, the most terrifying thing was not the arms or the blood splattered all over his tent, it was the single chair at the center of the heart with a bouquet of flowers sitting innocently atop it.

There was a note over the top of the flowers, but Harry didn’t need to read them to know this was all Tom’s doing, that the bodies in his tent were the missing men from Collin’s group.

A breath stuttered from his mouth and he dropped his gun. There was no threat here. Tom wouldn’t come out this entire way just to see him, just to make him squirm.

He reholstered his gun and walked toward the flowers, narrowing avoiding the arms with a precise step over them. 

He didn’t want to touch them more than he needed to. Death didn’t unsettle him the way that it used to, but still, that did not mean he welcomed it either.

He pulled the single note out, small and bright. The same powdery blue as the flowers atop the chair.

I hope you enjoy the flowers. Love, Tom Marvolo Riddle. The man you have always known.

[lh-moth]

Hidden

A Storm Hawks fan fiction.

Summary: After being defeated by the Storm Hawks again, the Dark Ace considers the current the situation upon returning to Cyclonia. Set in an AU where the Dark Ace isn’t really a villain. (around 1500 words; warnings for minor injuries)

Thanks to @vera-sterne for editing this. Though she hasn't actually seen the show, so any mistakes in those details are my own.

One thing I liked in Storm Hawks was how a lot of their victories in the early episodes made sense, but there were still times I found myself wondering if the villains - especially the Dark Ace - were really trying. One moment in particular led me to speculating on the idea that he was purposefully throwing the battle and, well, here we are. I’m sure other people have explored this concept before; I hope my take is at least somewhat entertaining.

Originally, this story was meant to be longer, with more backstory, but the AU sort of took on a life of its own. Hopefully, I’ll be able to fill in some of the missing details in the future. For now, this is more of an introduction to premise.

I may also be taking some liberties with the show’s canon. A lot of my perceptions about the universe were created within the first twenty episodes, and I there was a lot I wasn’t impressed by in the second season. So, while I really enjoy the show, I am putting my own spin on certain details. Sorry in advance for the discrepancies.

Hidden

Wheels bounced as they contacted the hangar floor while the wings of the air skimmer shuddered, the battered mechanism refusing to retract correctly. Gritting his teeth, the Dark Ace forcefully twisted the manual gear. The metal protested loudly, but the wings folded back. If they didn’t sit flat against the body, if the rough treatment most likely increased the damage, at least the vehicle came to a halt normally, allowing him to step off instead of having to jump.

He was the Dark Ace, after all. He had a reputation to maintain and didn’t need to suffer the indignity of being forced into a controlled crash. Bad enough to come limping back after losing to a ragtag group of teenagers.

Or so the Talons saw it. In truth, the Storm Hawks were a team of skilled pilots who routinely showed a surprising level of resourcefulness. They certainly lived up to the name of the predecessors, would someday perhaps even surpass them. In the meantime, they were unintentionally aided by Snipe’s incompetence, Repton’s bumbling underlings, and Ravess’ showy over-confidence. Even with the Storm Hawks’ relative inexperience, it was easy to take advantage of such obvious flaws. A fact which Ace was grateful for. Each of those defeats helped to mask his own and allowed him to be more forgiving in battle.

His skimmer secured in its usual alcove, the Dark Ace grabbed the arm of a passing worker. “See to the repairs of my skimmer. Have it ready by nightfall.”

The Cyclonian snapped to attention, automatically uttering a “Yes, sir!” even as her mind contemplated the difficulty of the task. The timeframe he gave would be a tight one, but should be possible with some quick work. He tried not to make his demands too unreasonable. The power balance in Cyclonia was precarious enough, and punishing people for failing impossible orders only bred dissent.

The silence stretched into a awkward pause until the Dark Ace glowered. “Well,” he hissed, “get on with it.”

The woman paled, practically squeaking out her “Sir!” as she hurried away.

Resisting the desire to roll his eyes, the Dark Ace strode across the deck and out of the hangar. Suppressing his limp was painful, but he refused to show any ill-effects from the recent battle. Being unassailable was an important part of the image he created. While his reputation was enough to keep most Talons in their place, there was the occasional ambitious one, always on the lookout for any opportunity.

Thankfully, the Cyclonians in the corridor were more interested in avoiding him. His air of fury, along with the fast-spreading news of his most recent defeat, allowed him to reach his quarters without being accosted by any petty problems.

The door slid closed behind him, a faint hum indicating the lock engaged. For the first time since his men dug him from the rocks, Ace allowed himself a grimace of pain. He immediately set about removing his armour. Despite his cautious movements, he couldn’t stop a hiss of pain as he loosened his knee guard. Pulling off the shoulder piece was even more painful. Wincing as the last piece was removed, he began peeling off the dirt-encrusted clothing as well, revealing an array of bruises forming down his left side. His fingers traced over the injuries, gently probing the worst areas. While the bruises would remain painful for some time, nothing was torn or broken. Overall, it was better than what he had feared.

Turning his attention to the armour, Ace again found the damage to be superficial. He would look closer later, but aside from a few dents and deep scoring, it seemed fine. It was the kind of damage he could repair himself. For the time being, he could use his secondary set. The pieces weren’t as solid and the fit wasn’t as close, but it would do for a few days.

Storing the damaged armour properly, he glanced at the timepiece on the shelves. There was still time before Cyclonis would expect his report. Not long enough to bathe properly, but he could clean up a little. Ace limped to the sink. The lukewarm water was a welcome feeling, washing the dirt and grime from his face and shoulders.

A sharp bolt of pain caught him off-guard as he straightened. He glanced at the clock again. Treating the bruises would delay him, but the the modicum of relief would be worth weathering Cyclonis’ irritation.

Going to the cabinets along the wall, he opened the bottom one and removed the small heating frame. The design was basic, with a setting for crystals in the base and an adjustable insert for pots and bowls. Ace pulled out the box beside it. Inside, there was an assortment of cooking crystals. Needing nothing more than a warming glow, he selected one of the smallest ones. With the crystal secured, he left the element to heat.

Bandages, a small bowl, and a jar of base salve were also retrieved from the cabinets and set beside the frame. Another shelf held a small collection of carefully labelled bottles filled with various colours of powdered crystal. His hand lingered over the nearly full bottle of paralysing crystal, useful for the numbing effects. He passed over it, though, instead taking the cooling crystal. It was tempting to numb the pain, but he couldn’t afford the loss of mobility, no matter how slight it would be.

That was the price of not having someone trustworthy at his back. In a broader view, it was also one of the weaknesses of Cyclonia’s Talons. The internal strife and unreliable nature of the pilots made them easy prey for a well-coordinated team. Especially one like the Storm Hawks. In all the time he’d observed the Sky Knights – whether from within or without – Ace had rarely seen such cohesion in a squadron. The level of trust between them was admirable. Even in Ace’s squad–

He cut off that line of thinking, focusing his attention on his current task.

Using a flat wooden spoon, he scooped out a portion of salve into the bowl and placed it into the insert. The jar was getting low again; he’d have to replenish his supply next time he had a quiet moment.

Of course, quiet was in short supply these days. Cyclonia was constantly on the move as Cyclonis tested her and her enemies’ power. Each confrontation was like an experiment to see which tactics worked, and Cyclonis applied what she learned to her next strategy. Even her losses were turned to an advantage.

Ace frowned as he slowly stirred the salve. He never imagined Cyclonis would move so soon. Maintaining an empire was challenging enough without starting a war. But Cyclonis’ youth didn’t impede her sharp mind, a fact which kept Ace from moving against her more overtly. After everything sacrificed to get him to this position, he couldn’t risk losing it without a high guarantee of success.

It was why he relied so heavily on the Storm Hawks to upset Cyclonis’ plans, and the bitter irony of that was not lost on him.

Seeing the salve had loosened to the correct consistency, Ace removed the bowl and deactivated the cooking crystal. He opened the bottle of powder and carefully measured the small amount he would need. It flared brightly as he poured it into the bowl, the heat activating the cooling properties. Ace folded the powdered crystal in, distributing it evenly. The glow slowly faded. The mixture stiffened to a paste-like thickness. Gathering some on his fingers, Ace gingerly applied it to his knee. The welcome cooling sensation reminded him how lucky he was his injuries weren’t any worse.

And it was mostly luck, rather than any skill on his part. He wouldn’t be injured at all if not for simple pilot error. Most of the blame fell on a young Talon who couldn’t control his skimmer after taking minimal damage from that sharpshooter, Finn. With a better reaction time, he could’ve avoided smashing into the porous rock face directly above Ace’s flight path. The ensuing cascade still should’ve been easy to avoid, had Aerrow not been directly behind him. Pulling out into a roll – Ace’s best option – would have trapped the other pilot, so he tried a dive instead.

In hindsight, it was a foolish decision. If not for a serendipitous overhang, he would’ve lost his skimmer completely. He needed to overcome this ridiculous desire to protect the boy. Aerrow was a more than capable pilot, Ace knew. If he wasn’t Quarl’s son…

Ace unrolled a length of bandage, placing a layer over the salve. He kept it loose enough to avoid impeding his movement and flat enough to pass unnoticed beneath his armour. While most weren’t observant enough to realise the significance, he worried about Cyclonis’ reaction. The Storm Hawks were already a thorn in her side. He didn’t want to give her a reason to reevaluate how great a threat they posed. The situation could become…complicated.

Tying off the bandage on his shoulder, Ace hurriedly moved to dress. It galled him to leave his supplies in disarray, but he already wasted too much time here. He paused before leaving, checking his appearance in the small mirror by the sink. The armour effectively obscured the bandages and, most importantly, it wasn’t apparent that he had rushed. He was the Dark Ace, after all. Image was important. He met his reflection’s gaze with a smirk that came far too naturally these days.

Satisfied, he stepped from his quarters, and only narrowly avoided crashing into a nervous-looking Talon. The Dark Ace roughly pushed the startled man aside, glaring. The Talon had the good sense to bow in salute and otherwise remain silent as the Dark Ace passed by him.

Clearly Cyclonis’ patience had run out if she was sending men to fetch him. He forced himself to lengthen his stride, ignoring the fresh surge of pain from his knee. It would be best not to keep her waiting any longer.

[chrisoncinema]

Chris on Cinema’s Top Films of 2019

Before we go any further: the best movies of the 2010s that is about the 2000s is The Social Network. The best movie of the 2010s that is about the 2010s is Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. No other film captured, with pop-art colors and four-quadrant appeal, the greatness – and great responsibility – that has been thrust upon Generation Z. In the past few years I have been so inspired by the brave, tireless work of people like Mari Copeny, David Hogg, and Greta Thunberg. They teach us that we all have a role to play in improving our world. In fighting for what is right. I hope that our art in 2020 reflects their courage and lives up to the idea that tomorrow will be brighter if we choose to make it so.

Anyway, here are the movies I couldn’t stop thinking about this year.

10. An Elephant Sitting Still

One could spend the entirety of An Elephant Sitting Still’s four-hour runtime debating whether director Hu Bo’s tragic death diminishes, elevates, or simply distracts from the film itself. It’s a thought that is hard to ignore given that the film is steeped in malaise and haunted by death. An Elephant is difficult to watch but impossible to ignore or look away from; it is full of characters who are difficult to love but impossible not to empathize with. On paper, nothing could seem more one-note or more disheartening than this film and yet its existence challenges us to consider the why of our hurt and our selfishness and our apathy.

9. The Report

The Report is not really interested in being a movie and since it cannot be a documentary it decides to be a dramatic reenactment. It is doggedly journalistic and its matter-of-factness stands in stoic opposition to cathartic sensationalism. The Report owes much in form and function to Steven Soderbergh, for whom Scott Z. Burns, its writer and director, has previously written four screenplays. Soderbergh has made a career of information delivery that is cool and frictionless but still compelling. The Report never quite reaches those heights but it benefits greatly from Adam Driver who is endlessly interesting to watch. Sometimes that’s all you need: the facts and America’s most compelling actor under 40.

8. The Farewell

We can complain about movie ticket prices, we can complain about the number of ads and trailers that delay a movie’s screening, but the fact remains that movies are cheaper than plane tickets and easier to swallow than a semester studying sociology. And therein lies their beauty. The Farewell gives us a seat at the dinner table of a loving but dysfunctional Chinese family. We learn, as with any family, the layers of emotion and meaning embedded beneath seemingly simple conversations. In this way, a simple conceit – the inevitable death of a family member – is imbued with complex and bittersweet repercussions. The Farewell is ensemble piece but it is carried on the slumped shoulders of the charming, emotive Awkwafina. She was new to me here – I look forward to her becoming an old friend.

7. The Lighthouse

Midway through Robert Egger’s new horror two-hander, The Lighthouse, Willem Dafoe gives a dramatic monologue that is so intense, so impassioned, and, most importantly, so long that I could not help but burst out laughing. Despite the film’s cold, miserable, gross conditions, The Lighthouse may have been the most fun I had at the movies this year. Pair that with the film’s astoundingly ecstatic penultimate scene and the aforementioned Dafoe’s craggy face filling the high-contrast black-and-white frame, and you have something purely, simply cinematic. Even if there isn’t much going on below the torrential surface.

6. Uncut Gems

Upping the darkly comic ante is Josh and Benny Safdie’s new film, Uncut Gems. I love the Safide Brothers and I love how much they clearly love film. I love that they know exactly how to use Adam Sandler’s manic, desperate energy. I love that they are constantly daring me not to throw up upon witnessing their exquisitely nauseating characters and cinematography. I do hope their style evolves. Those who have seen the Sadie Brothers’ previous film, Good Time, will not be too surprised by anything here. But the cinematic schadenfreude works for me. As Qui-Gon Jinn said, “Whenever you gamble, my friend, eventually you lose.” Sandler’s Howard loses in the spectacular fashion of a firework malfunction where everything explodes at once. We leave covered in soot, ears ringing, hands shaking, laughing nervously for the rest of the night.

5. Ad Astra

Ad Astra snuck up on me in a way that only James Gray movies seems capable of. It was one of my most anticipated movies of the year but when the lights came up I felt perplexed and disappointed. Days later, though, I could not shake the image of Brad Pitt floating alone in his spaceship. I realized upon reflection that no other film has captured the banal, isolating imprisonment that space travel so obviously portends. Suddenly, what seemed like saccharine melodrama was reframed as the necessary tether back to a humanity so easily lost in the din of industrialization. Before worrying about whether or not we are alone in the universe, we must find reconciliation for those with whom we already occupy space.

4. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

The Last Black Man in San Francisco is odd and specific and observational and soulful. It is about gentrification and race and the performative nature of identity without ever becoming preachy or overly obvious. San Francisco may have benefited from a shorter runtime but what you gain in expediency you undoubtedly lose in atmosphere and in the overflowing humanity and warmth developed by director Joe Talbot and lead Jimmie Fails. The film quietly and gently teaches us that our endless and exhausting irony is often just a mask to hide our ignorance. It’s easy to claim to hate that which you do not know or understand. Love is hard. But investing in something – a relationship, a place – means that against all odds it’s harder not to.

3. Marriage Story

Remember that time Kylo Ren smashed a wall fighting Black Widow and also Alan Alda was there? What a time for movies. Marriage Story’s thesis can be summed up thusly: “Criminal lawyers see bad people at their best, divorce lawyers see good people at their worst.” We all deserve agency and autonomy but what do we owe each other? And what do we allow others to tell us we’re owed? And what, by our actions, do we tell others they deserve?

2. Parasite

It seems that every year there is a movie that, for my skeptical self, does not live up to the hype. Kindly cancel me for stating that Under the Skin, Fury Road, and Annihilation are among them. I respect these movies for their singular vision and for not being made by Disney, but my interest goes that far and no farther. Parasite should have joined that list but I found myself completely engrossed in its intricate twists and turns. I won’t bother reiterating what everyone else has already said about it. It’s one of the best movies of the year.

1. A Hidden Life

The best movie, however, can only go to A Hidden Life. Because when Terrence Malick is good, he’s the best. And his latest film includes an element that has been missing from some of his recent works: necessity. The true story of Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who refused to pledge loyalty to Hitler, is an important story for our time and for all time. As with so many movies on this list, A Hidden Life is about the cost of doing what is right rather than what is easy or safe. It is an overwhelming film not only because of its subject but because of the beauty in every fluid shot’s composition. There is a heaviness in A Hidden Life but it is never hopeless. It is a rallying cry for the inherent value and beauty in life. I struggle to write more about it not because it is undeserving but because a Gesamtkunstwerk like this is almost untranslatable. It must be seen. If one of the few theaters that is actually playing A Hidden Life is near you – see it. Full stop.

[jae-bummer]

Promises (Hades!Jinyoung AU)

Mother, I’ll never wake up from him, I have already travelled too far.  My mouth is the color of his mouth and his arms are no longer his arms; they’re mute as smoke, as my first white dress, and the spear of his name, once ferocious,  dissolves on my tongue. like sugar, like birdsong, I whisper it: Hades. -Cecilia Woloch

Your fingers traced over the intricately carved and blackened stone that made up the window before you. You gingerly sat upon the plush navy cushions decorating the seat just underneath the sill and sighed, looking down to your fingers folded on your lap. The bedroom held a hallow cold that seemed to cut through you, no matter how many layers you dressed your skin with. 

You missed your mother, a deep longing ached in your heart for her that you had never experienced before. She had tried to rescue you, but you just couldn’t hold on long enough. You were so hungry, desperate for any sustenance to quiet your stomach. What you had considered as such a simple and heartfelt gesture before, you now realized was just a mask to keep you locked away. 

Your fate remained the same for the rest of eternity. Six pomegranate seeds. Six seeds that would symbolize the six months of each year you were left to spend with your husband. 

The world knew him as Hades or Pluto, but you knew him as Jinyoung. God of precious metals, king of darkness, and lord of the underworld. 

You looked up from your hands and finally glanced out of the glass separating you from outside. Jinyoung’s mansion had been erected in a time before you were even thought of, placed directly along the edge of the Asphodel Meadows with a stunning view of Elysium. 

You gazed over countless wandering souls in the distance, but your sight was immediately commanded to look toward your spouse, busy in the front lawn. 

Oh, how you held such distain for him. No matter how handsome or charming he appeared to be, he was a kidnapper, a liar, and a fraud. You had been in his care for two months of your six month sentence, and he would never win your heart. 

You had promised yourself that much. 

You bit your lip, tilting your head as you stared at him. His frame was busy, dressed in casual clothes that weren’t his normal style. He wore dress slacks and a button down of course, but his feet were bare and his sleeves were pushed up to the elbows. His black tie, which was usually stiff against his neck was loosened, and he hurried to the edge of the bramble garden directly beneath your window. 

You stood slightly, attempting to catch his movements as he disappeared. As you searched for him, you jumped, a loud and deep bark echoing across the land. You looked up again to see Cerberus, Jinyoung’s massive, multi-headed dog, bounding across the lawn. Jinyoung reappeared, a wide smile on his attractive face. He reached up, scratching Cerberus underneath his large jaw and shouted something to him that you couldn’t quite make out. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he broke out into a full sprint, running across the yard. Cerberus chased after him, his multiple snake-like tales wagging behind him. 

Cerberus didn’t take long to catch up with JInyoung’s quick strides, eventually overtaking him and pushing him to the ground with a large paw. You gasped as the large dog stood over him, saliva dripping off of his large teeth. You winced just as you thought he was about to take Jinyoung by the throat, but decided to lick him instead. 

“Yah! Cerberus!” Jinyoung chuckled, loud enough to be heard. He pushed at the large dog’s chest as he attempted to lay on top of him. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the sight. Surely if a dog as large and hateful as Cerberus could love Jinyoung, maybe you could as well. 

Promises were made to be broken after all. 

You sighed, adjusting the strap to the light blue gown you were wearing. Jinyoung had gifted it to you on your first night in the underworld, hoping it would appease you. He had left it with a small note, “to remind you of the sky.” The effect didn’t necessarily go over as he desired, making you more infuriated than anything. 

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and gripped the sterling handle of your bedroom door. You pushed it gently, allowing it to spring open for the first time in weeks, and slowly eased into the hallway. 

Light R&B music drifted down the hall. You couldn’t help but smirk as you walked toward the sound. The hall was much longer than you had anticipated, furrowing your brows as you continued down it for what had to have been more than just a few minutes. Just as you thought you had decided to give up all hope, you finally saw a dim light peaking out from an open doorway. You nodded to yourself, readjusting your skirt one last time as you moved forward. 

The music remained low as you entered the study, greeted by the sight of the back of Jinyoung’s head, pouring over a novel in his right hand. He held a glass of a deep red liquid, you presumed to be ambrosia, in his left. Before you even had a chance to clear your throat, Jinyoung sighed, his back becoming rigid. 

“Hello darling,” he growled. He closed the book and placed his glass on the small table before him. He looked over his shoulder, giving you a kind smile. “It’s about time you came around.”

“Don’t test me...Hades,” you grumbled, your voice stern, you eased around the side of the lounge he was sitting on and sat beside him., keeping at least a two foot barrier of silk between you. 

“Now, now,” Jinyoung cooed. “No need for that...

...I noticed you’re wearing the dress I selected for you.”

“It reminds me of my mother,” you nodded. “Of living things, of the sky.”

Jinyoung bit his lip, nodding to himself. “Your mother can visit whenever she desires, I-”

“She wouldn’t visit this place if you begged,” you sighed. “Because I know I have.”

“Is it too late to send her flowers?” Jinyoung chuckled bitterly. “Curry a bit of favor?”

“Much too late,” you muttered. “You probably should have thought of that after your foray into abduction.” 

He nodded, remaining silent. His eyes slowly lifted, searching your face for any emotion, when your gazes met. It was the first time you had looked at him. Really looked at him. 

He was breathtaking. Dressed in an evening shirt and signature black slacks. His hair was carefully styled, pushed away from his face to better highlight his cheekbones and strong jaw. His focus never left you, his breathing growing shallow as he continued to stare. He looked at you as if you were the night sky, as if you were the only star. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, looking away. “I...I’ve never been the best at expressing myself...”

“No kidding,” you whispered, looking away as well. He was too handsome to look at. If you looked too long it felt as if you were committing a sin. 

He took a deep breath, glaring at you through his lashes. The look was enough to cause a shiver to run down your spine and tie your tongue in knots. 

“I thought...I thought I was going insane,” he whispered. “As soon as my eyes had graced you...you never left my thoughts. No matter how deep I pushed you back...you kept surfacing. I knew you had to be mine.”

You bit your lip, surprised that his words had caused your heart to flutter. This whole situation was unhealthy and you wouldn’t condone it in anyway. 

But maybe, maybe there was something human in this God. Maybe there was something salvageable. 

“I know...I’m asking a lot,” he continued. “I’m not asking you to love me...I would be surprised if you ever could...but I want to make this pleasant for you.”

He reached out slowly, his hand shaking with nerves. He placed it lightly on your knee before looking up to your face again. “Please...let me do something for you.”

You furrowed your brow, unsure if you were even capable of speaking. Steadily you nodded your head. If you had to be here, maybe you could both make the best of it. 

“This doesn’t happen often,” Jinyoung grumbled, opening a black umbrella. 

“Don’t you think you’re being a smidge dramatic,” you sighed, closing your eyes and basking in the sunlight. You were just outside of the Underworld, having travelled the river sticks for countless moments to arrive here. Passing the figures of grief, anxiety, disease, and old age, you were exhausted by the time you had reached the outer gates. The entrance of the underworld lay on the outer bounds of the ocean, but it didn’t take long for Hades to lead you to dry land.

You had missed the warmth of the human world. 

“I have sensitive skin,” he muttered, lifting his elbow for you to grasp. You nodded, tucking your hand over his rolled sleeves. You had realized that this was the first bodily contact you had ever made with the God and you nearly retreated. His skin was cold, similar to marble as your fingers glided along it. He looked to you in surprise as you gripped tightly to him. 

“You’re so warm,” he whispered, blinking slowly. 

“Living has that effect,” you chuckled. He nodded to himself, taking a cautious step onto the beach he had led you to. “Jinyoung?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows raised at the two simple words that floated from your lips. He stopped, turning to you in surprise. “What for?”

“For trying,” you nodded. “I know what you did...is completely unjustifiable. But we’re in an non retractable situation at this point...and I’m too selfish to live miserably.”

He nodded along as you spoke, his face easing a bit. “Thank you.”

“Now what are you thanking me for?” you laughed, looking down. Jinyoung’s slender fingers reached up, grasping your chin gently. You nearly shivered from his cold touch, contrasting the sunshine around you. He tilted your head back up, forcing you to look at him. 

“For trying,” he whispered. “Eternity is an awful long time to be alone...but I think I can manage it with you as my wife.”

You let a small smile play across your lips, allowing for your eyes to close. You soon felt a soft pair of lips lightly on top of yours, taking heed as they pressed gently. Jinyoung took great care with you, as if you were made of porcelain. His lips were stiff from years without touch, a cautious wanting behind every movement. You sighed into his mouth just as he pulled away, admittedly too soon for your liking. 

Maybe...just maybe you weren’t hungry that day. 

Maybe...just maybe Jinyoung was the reason that you had decided to stay. 

To Be Continued...HERE.

thanks to @eureureong who provided the prompt and emotional support as jinyoung slayed us both! :)

[eulogy34-blog]

The Ultimate Guide To coffee face mask

Blend all the elements with each other, spread evenly around pores and skin, and allow it to sit down for approximately 10 minutes. Whenever you rinse it off, therapeutic massage your face gently to exfoliate in addition. Full of vitamin C, orange peel is great for lightening dim places and acne scars. Evens out skin discolorations Can it be essential to stick to by using a moisturizer after rinsing from the honey mask? I exploit Neutrogena Healthful Pores and skin moisturizer. Contemporary papaya mashed , some drops of lime juice blended in will make a nice mask for growing older pores and skin. Papaya is large in Enzymes. It companies the skin and aids also with sunburn. website hold it on for about 20 to 30 minutes . Honey for your skin is basically character’s miracle, and these 4 Uncooked honey face mask recipes are some of my favourite homemade recipes for nourishing my pores and skin. The ideal face mask for acne can’t be bought at an expensive department store. In actual fact, it only includes one particular component and it’s likely now with your pantry! It’s amongst my personalized favorites: the Uncooked honey mask. All-natural clay has great skin-cleansing Qualities, and besides absorbing and extracting current blackheads, In addition it tightens your skin pores to forestall the development of blackheads Down the road. Raw honey was prized for its healing Attributes in ancient civilizations. In Egyptian And Ayurvedic traditions, honey was utilised to take care of skin wounds and Ailments (read through more details on the ancient uses of honey in this article). This conical formed fruit is extensively Employed in the beauty industry to produce pores and skin splendor merchandise. Instead of working with These chemical laden beauty products that even really comprise only a little proportion of strawberry, use mashed strawberries utilized topically to your skin for The natural way gorgeous, soft supple pores and skin. Fragrance – The uplifting odor with the orange is mesmerizing and calls for a enthusiasm following time. How it really works: Strawberries not simply are rich in vitamin C but additionally contain alpha hydroxy acids, which exfoliate the pores and skin. The grainy texture from the bee-pollen granules helps to exfoliate, too, allowing for the honey, a potent humectant, to better penetrate the pores and skin’s surface. Applying heat h2o, rinse off, tackling the sides of one's face and beneath your chin Specifically. Splash your face with chilly drinking water to shut pores. Pat dry that has a thoroughly clean towel. https://steptoremedies.com/diy-body-scrubs-bath-bombs/ is somewhat sticky and is usually a suffering for getting off. Only, use lukewarm h2o and Carefully scrub your face till it starts off efficiently coming off. Then you can use chilly h2o to wipe off the rest. Insert the water for your oatmeal and stir for a few minutes right until it’s plumped up properly. Increase the honey and yogurt, and place through a blender to sleek and Blend it rather well. Slather this throughout your face, leave on for 10 minutes or so, and afterwards wash with warm drinking water. Pat dry.

5 Tips about yeast face mask You Can Use Today

Strawberry is full of antioxidants, as well as other nutrients which might brighten your skin, exfoliate useless pores and skin cells, fade blemishes and nourish your skin for that healthy glowing glimpse. Let's take a further think about the nutrients in strawberry which can be great for pores and skin: Pat your face with gentle yellow mustard for a bracing facial which will soothe and stimulate the skin. Try it on a small test space initial to make certain it won’t irritate. Lemon facial masks The cinnamon and nutmeg honey face mask smells wonderful and operates miracles in fading acne scars and night out skin discolorations! Enable’s see the pores and skin benefits of the components In this particular 1: Solution: Any genuine honey will do, but my individual most loved is Uncooked, unfiltered honey as it retains additional of its potent therapeutic Attributes. I can actually inform the difference between the categories of honey I’ve used for my honey mask. Moving into the further layers from the skin, yeast fungi begin to actively metabolize Unwanted fat inside the cells, clear away toxins, and good impact on metabolism. Attention-grabbing site and thank you to the recipes. I actually concur with you that honey and cinnamon combos are extremely advantageous. Yeast is exceptional, but However induce allergic reactions,thus, right before making use of the mask to your face, pre-check out the solution on a small inconspicuous location of ​​skin in place. When you have any redness, itching or every other unfavorable reactions about the skin, you are categorically forbidden to do this kind of mask. How it really works: Resveratrol, a robust antioxidant observed mainly in red wine but in addition in smaller sized quantities in white, may possibly aid to restore the destruction because of Solar publicity that can result in wrinkles and sagging, In keeping with a escalating physique of scientific study. Didi’s consider: “A whisk was The best Resource for whipping each of the elements together. It’s not the prettiest mask I’ve at any time worn—I appeared as if I had gotten caught from the cross fire of a colossal food items battle. Ideas: Use this mixture 3 to four moments every week (even a every day application is fine), but you'll want to prepare it new whenever, as it is vitally uncomplicated to arrange and most effective at that time. Facts: The citric acid in lemon juice is an excellent cleanser, and so is milk. Yogurt is usually a superb cleanser, as well as a good softener. This is vital mainly because making use of lemon juice on your own will make the skin really feel stretched and dried. Furthermore, it’s exceptionally moisturizing with the skin, a result of the presence of lauric acid, that is a saturated Fats. In addition, it repairs the skin and rejuvenates it, giving you glowing pores and skin. Bear in mind summer when exposed to significant temperatures the yeast speedily get rid of their advantageous properties. Soaked a washcloth and push it to the face to loosen the mask, then rinse with warm h2o. If you have delicate skin, you need to stay clear of rubbing your face since the coffee grounds could potentially scratch your skin.

Getting My coffee face mask To Work

Didi’s just take*: “I’ll get started with the odor. Let’s just say it absolutely was exceptionally captivating after a extended, tricky day of work. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGVlhdxC7ag : I could have poured myself a glass or two as I sat Using the mask on my face. This coconut oil and oatmeal face mask is perfect for acne-susceptible skin thanks to its antibacterial and antifungal properties. What's more, it serves to soothe inflammation and restore the purely natural pH stability of the skin. Try out get more info of the mask over the again of one's hand or side of the face. If it causes irritation, Really don't use that mask. What’s more, because you can whip them up you, it is possible to indulge at any time (not merely when there’s an opening for the spa). Listed here are 6 of our favourite facials that you ought to But Once i took it off, my pores and skin felt outrageous comfortable, and I didn’t even need to use moisturizer that evening, though I did visit mattress craving a strawberry smoothie.” Acquired really oily and acne-vulnerable pores and skin? Fear no extra with this simple and cleaning orange peel face mask, which will leave your skin oil-free and moisturized concurrently! Several months back, my skin was wanting awful so I seemed in my fridge And that i remembered I employed yeast in my school several years so I claimed ''Enable' s try out it once again'' and benefits were fantastic: smaller pores, much less blackheads, several of the blackheads were being out from the pores so this is great in order to extract your blackheads or use nose strips, even skin, scars were being a lot less seen and my General complexion seemed muuuch improved! I'm pondering accomplishing normally as I love just how my pores and skin appears to be and feels after making use of it. Allow it sit for quarter-hour. Rinse your face with cold h2o and pat dry which has a clean up towel. The skin will come to feel amazingly smooth and look clear and moisturised. If the face is a little dry following the mask, specifically in acne regions, just utilize a fall of olive oil being a normal moisturizer. Fatty acids in higher doses, like those found in açai berries, seem to beat hyperpigmentation, In line with a 2010 paper revealed from the Journal of Medicines in Dermatology I also appreciate the graphics you set with your hub! I believe through the Re source hyperlink you created them on your own. Excellent task! They're basically best graphics to use for pinterest. :) Of which, I do think I am about to pin this to my splendor board on Pinterest to utilize for long term reference. Balance out oily skin with a gentle, but successful orange peel face mask that can depart the skin clean and toned. Should you be Fed up with the creams, crowded chemical substances, give relaxation for the skin under the miraculous yeast mask. And very quickly you will not be capable of just take fulfillment from the beautiful sight of your individual reflection during the mirror. Don’t rub or therapeutic massage when you clean it off as you don’t want the substances to exfoliate your skin far more. It is going to leave the skin dry, leading to your oil glands to create more sebum, which may trigger additional acne! Anti-inflammatory means your inflamed purple acne might be soothed and healed, making them fewer pronounced. Antibacterial and antiseptic Homes can help struggle off acne leading to germs and microbes, staving off much more acne and pimples.

Little Known Facts About diy face mask.

Blend every one of the components alongside one another, unfold evenly above skin, and permit it to sit down for about 10 minutes. Whenever you rinse it off, massage your face gently to exfoliate likewise. Wash and clean these strawberries carefully. Next mash them and afterwards blend them With all the honey and milk. Drain the mixture. Now, slowly and gradually therapeutic massage the pores and skin utilizing your hands in one circular motion for two minutes and after that wash with h2o. There are lots of face masks recipes from yeast with a number of accessory elements. Choose the ones which have been great for your skin type. Do not forget that yeast is especially excellent mask for oily pores and skin and for pores and skin inflammation. Allow me to share 5 uncomplicated recipes to have you began. Discover the a person that actually works for your skin variety or the challenge you wish to deal with. I actually have acne issues and have been on clendamycin lotion and not too long ago retin-a cream, so it isn't really similar to this 'cured' my acne alone but I am continue to using it with another factors. I exploit this almost daily, It truly is amazing the way it's Light more than enough but dries acne spots and will help moisturize at the same time. I seemed up why yeast aids and it was attributed to assisting cell turnover so your spots heal a lot quicker and fade faster/even tone and will most likely also help with wrinkles; exactly the same explanation people today use Retin-A. Yeast - a flexible product. With them and pastries taste better, and alcoholic beverages much better and a lot more beautiful skin. Within them you must just take tablets, even so the masks are suited to refreshing yeast. The usage of yeast to the pores and skin Many of us devote money on skincare products so skip the flamboyant serum and splurge on very good honey. You can use it to scrub your face, produce a scrub, or address the skin into a weekly handmade honey mask. alright properly it seems to obtain designed my skin smoother, but I have a single suggestion: it may seem noticeable, but don’t put it inside your eyebrows!! ? the cinnamon receives stuck in them and you've got to wipe it out harshly with a damp paper towel or wipe hahah & also when rinsing your face don’t scrub with all your fingers, do it gently or it’ll result in irritation through the little items of cinnamon powder and it’s kinda unpleasant ? I’m about to try and Examine back in tomorrow morning to determine if and of my acne has cleared up! Stir the mixture and therapeutic massage actions rub in the pores and skin with the face and clean off immediately after 50 % one hour. Now you have your orange peel powder, here are a few face mask recipes that will allow you to reap their Added benefits: As an additional bonus, vinegar even allows harmony the skin’s fragile pH. In this article’s how to put it to very good use. For anyone who is Weary of the creams, crowded chemical compounds, give relaxation for the skin beneath the miraculous yeast mask. And really shortly you won't manage to take pleasure from the beautiful sight of your individual reflection from the mirror. By logging into your account, you agree to our Conditions of Use and Privateness Plan, and to using cookies as explained therein.

Details, Fiction and strawberry face mask

For mask recipes that involve honey, vegans can both substitute a little bit of pureed banana, or perhaps omit it. When it’s time to wash the mask off, be sure you place a strainer with your sink or shower drain to capture significant particles: you don’t would like to clog your drains. I are seeking testimonials for brewer's yeast and could not obtain a single but now I know I'm not the only one that attempted the yeast mask!! Within a bowl, just take some orange peel powder, sugar and almond oil. Be certain the amount of sugar is equivalent to your peel powder and here you might have a fairly easy recipe to a stunning smelling lip balm that’s powerful and simple for making. Application: Apply the mask on the face (particularly on afflicted parts), and leave it on for 10 to quarter-hour. Then, rinse off your face with lukewarm water. Pursuing https://www.wikihow.com/Apply-Face-Masks-Correctly , wash your face again with chilly drinking water. Papaya is full of antioxidants, and its enzymes aid to slough absent outdated, dry pores and skin cells for a glowing, wholesome complexion. Jasmin Fiore in the Deva Lifetime swears by papaya masks as Component of her healing regimen, and sings the praises of the rejuvenating ponder-fruit. "This tropical face mask will give the skin this kind of health and fitness, natural-searching glow, and It is also made to be Mild sufficient on all skin forms," suggests Sharōn Ronen L.E., the founder and owner of Skin Haven Spa Studio & WellSpa in Australia. Continue to keep a jar all-around and dab the honey on acne, burns or slight cuts. And when you’re sensation sick, take a spoonful or two. B nutritional vitamins refresh and tone the skin, improve blood circulation in cells, normalize metabolic procedures; Which is one interesting mask! After i 1st observed the photo I believed it was a mask based on Turmeric, given that It is additionally an orange powder, but a mask produced outside of floor orange peel would have not occurred to me. Thanks for sharing! With this simple blemish-removing face mask, You simply need two other substances: honey and yogurt. These powerhouse ingredients are jam packed with nutrients that present nourishing benefits to pores and skin. Honey, especially, will help in night out discolorations and blemishes on skin. You can also find an abundance of merchandise out there which might be made to serve precise uses in aiding and taking care of the skin. https://lv.wordpress.com/tag/face-mask/ -In-1 Anti-Ageing Cream + Serum Duo SPF fifteen is a superb illustration of a product that concentrates on anti-getting old even though supplying a concentrated moisturizing formula. It fights all big signs and aging and allows you look and feel more youthful than right before. Items including the Nivea Oil Handle Adult men’s Face Clean are top quality offerings in the sphere of elevating oily pores and skin and furnishing you which has a refreshed glimpse. The ample pores and skin types, tones and disorders are all satisfied and taken care of through the numerous set of items obtainable on Amazon India. Points: Whilst the grains on the apple will work to be a form of Mild scrub for cleaning your face, the glycolic acid in it facilitates exfoliation. These Do it yourself masks can do the job wonders for a variety of pores and skin problems—from dry, cracked cheeks and dull foreheads to acne breakouts. Make an effort to use natural and organic substances Any time feasible, as the pores and skin in your face is thinner than other parts of your body and may soak up toxins a great deal more simply. पित्त प्रकृति क्या होती है, ऐसे लोगों का खान-पान कैसा होना चाहिए ?