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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 4 years

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Trump & the Military

(This was shamelessly copy/pasted from OP on Reddit (u/myusernameiscool1234, thanks dude!) because it needs to be spread and I wanted to update a tad, add links and reformat it so it's easier to follow. I'm sure I'm missing stuff, so feel free to add to it and I'll try to update accordingly. Please Share!)

On Military Service

• Trump dodged the draft 5 times, 4 for college and 1 by having a doctor diagnose him with bone spurs.

• Trump said having unprotected sex was his own personal Vietnam (1998)

• Trump said “I felt that I was in the military in the true sense because I dealt with those people” because he went to a military-style academy and that he has “more training militarily than a lot of the guys that go into the military”. (2015 biography)

• Trump accepted a Purple Heart from a fan at one of his rallies and said: “I always wanted to get the Purple Heart. This was much easier.” (Aug 2, 2016)

• ⁠No Trump in America has ever served in the military; this spans 5 generations, and every branch of the family tree. In fact, the reason his grandfather immigrated to America was to avoid military service

• Trump made his 2nd wife, Marla Maples, sign a prenup that would have cut off all child support if Tiffany joined the military (reported on June 4th, 2019)

Use & Treatment of Military

• He sent commandos into an ambush due to a lack of intel, and sends contractors to pick them up, resulting in a commando being left behind, tortured, and executed. (Trump approved the mission because Bannon told him Obama didn’t have the guts to do it) (Oct 4, 2017)

• He forgot the aforementioned fallen soldier’s name during a call to his pregnant widow, then attacked her the next day (Oct 23-24, 2017)

• He urged Florida to not count deployed military votes (Nov 12, 2018)

• He used troops as a political prop by sending them on a phantom mission to the border and made them miss Thanksgiving with their families (Oct-Dec, 2018).

• He stopped using troops as a political prop immediately after the election. However, the troops remained in muddy camps on the border (Nov 7, 2018).

• He called troops on Thanksgiving and told them he’s most thankful for himself (Thanksgiving, 2018)

• He fired service members living with HIV just before the 2018 holidays (Dec 19, 2018-present)

• He finally visited troops 2 years after taking office, but only after 154 vacation days at his properties (Dec 26, 2018)

• Trump lied to deployed troops that he gave them a 10% raise. He didn’t give them a 10% raise (Dec 26, 2018). He initially tried to give the military a raise that was lower than the standard living adjustment. This was before Congress told him that idea wasn’t going to work. Then after giving them the raise that Congress made him, he lied about it pretending that it was larger than Obama’s. It wasn’t.

• He revealed a covert Seal Team 5 deployment , including names and faces, on Twitter during his visit to Iraq. Endangering both the operatives and their families. (Dec 26, 2018)

• He refused to sign his party’s funding bill, which shut down the government, and forced a branch of the military (see below) to go without pay. This branch of military was forced to work without pay, otherwise they would be AWOL. However, his appointees got a $ 10,000 pay raise (Dec 22, 2018 – Jan 25, 2019)

• He didn’t pay the Coast Guard, forcing service members to rely on food pantries (Jan 23, 2019)

• He denied female troops access to birth control to limit sexual activity (on-going. Published Jan 18, 2019)

• He banned service members from serving based on gender identity (Jan 22, 2019)

• He diverted military housing funds to pay for border wall (Feb 15, 2019). A judge subsequently denied this. In July 2019, SCOTUS ruled that Trump could in fact divert military housing funds to pay for his wall.

• Trump pardoned war criminals (May, 2019)

• In May 2019, Trump turned away US military from his Memorial Day speech because they were from the destroyer USS John S. McCain. Trump initially ordered the USS John McCain out of sight during his visit to Japan (May 15, 2019) which led to the ship’s name subsequently being covered. (May 27, 2019)

• In June 2019, Trump sent troops to the border to paint the fence for a better “aesthetic appearance” (June 7, 2019)

• Trump demanded US military chiefs stand next to him at 4th of July parade (reported July 2, 2019)

• Trump made the U.S. Navy Blue Angels violate ethics rules by having them fly at his July 4th political campaign (July 4, 2019)

• On July 31, 2019, Trump ordered the Navy rescind medals to prosecutors who were prosecuting war criminals.

• On ⁠October 8th, 2019, Trump plans to withdraw from Open Skies treaty giving Russia the ability to target our military aircraft.

Attacks on Service Members

• Trump said he doesn’t consider POWs heroes because they were caught. Says he "prefers people who were not caught" (July 18, 2015)

• He said he knows more about ISIS than American generals (Oct 2016)

• Trump attacks Gold Star families including: Myeshia Johnson — a gold star widow and the Khan family—gold star parents (2016-present)

• He called a retired general a ‘dog’ with a ‘big, dumb mouth’ (Jan 1, 2019)

• Well documented dislike of Sen. John McCain, going back to his statement on POWs (see above) and leading up to McCain’s passing. On March 20, 2019, Trump complained that deceased war hero, Sen. John McCain, didn’t thank him for his funeral.

• Trump started his D-Day commemoration speech by attacking a private citizen (Bette Midler, of all people) (reported on June 4th, 2019)

• Trump used his D-Day interview at a cemetery commemorating fallen US soldiers to attack Robert Muller, former FBI special counsel and a Vietnam veteran (June 6, 2019)

• Children of deployed US troops will no longer get automatic American citizenship if born overseas during deployment. This includes US troops posted abroad for years at a time (August 28, 2019)

• After he pleading with superiors in a letter asking to offload most of the sailors on the ship in order to allow for social distancing and sanitizing the USS Theodore Roosevelt, Trump attacks Capt. Crozier calling his letter “terrible” and "not appropriate” leading the Secretary of the Navy to remove Capt. Crozier from his post. 114 of 4,000 sailors on the ship had already tested po sitive for COVID-19. (April 3, 2020)

• On June 24, 2020, the White House ends the National Guard's deployments to assist the American people during the COVID-19 pandemic, the day before thousands of National Guard members would qualify for early retirement and education benefits under the Post-9/11 GI bill.

Immigrants in the military

• He deported veterans (2017-present)

• He ordered the discharge of active-duty immigrant troops with good records (2017-present)

• Trump doubled the rejection rate for veterans requesting family deportation protections (July 5, 2018)

• Trump deported active-duty spouses (11,800 military families face this problem as of April 2018).

• Trump deported a spouse of fallen Army soldier killed in Afghanistan, leaving their daughter parentless. The US has since overturned this as of April 16, 2019.

• In July 2019, Trump denied a United States Marine of 6 years entry into the United States for his scheduled citizenship interview (Reported July 17, 2019)

Treatment of Veterans

• For a decade, Trump sought to kick veterans off of Fifth Avenue because he found them unsightly nuisances outside of Trump Tower. Being quoted as saying, “While disabled veterans should be given every opportunity to earn a living, is it fair to do so to the detriment of the city as a whole or its tax paying citizens and businesses?” in 1991.

• Trump sent funds raised from a January 2016 veterans’ benefit to the Donald J Trump Foundation instead of veteran’s charities (Jan, 2016). The foundation has since been ordered shut because of fraud and Trump to pay $2 million in damages as of November 2019.

• The controversy surrounding wether or not he said vets get PTSD because they "aren’t strong" (Oct 3, 2016)

• He blocked a veteran group on Twitter (June 2017)

• Trump changed the GI Bill through his Forever GI Act.

• Trump changing the GI Bill caused the VA to miss veteran benefits, including housing allowances and forced many veterans to run out of food and rent. “You can count on us to serve, but we can’t count on the VA to make a deadline,” one veteran said. (reported October 7, 2018)

• While in Europe commemorating the end of WWI, he didn’t attend the ceremony at a US cemetery due to the rain – but other world leaders went anyway (Nov 10, 2018)

• He got three Mar-a-Lago guests to run the VA (unknown start – present, made well-known in 2018)

• He increased privatization of the VA, leading to longer waits and higher taxpayer cost (2018)

• He tried to slash disability and unemployment benefits for Veterans to $0, and eliminate the unemployability extrascheduler rating (Dec 17, 2018)

• He canceled an Arlington Cemetery visit on Veterans Day due to light rain (Nov 12, 2018)

• He tried to deport a marine vet who is a U.S.-born citizen (Jan 16, 2019). He deported countless other veterans (2017-present)

• When a man was caught swindling veterans’ pensions for high-interest “cash advances,” Trump’s Consumer Financial Protection Bureau fined him $1. As a reminder, the Trump administration’s goal was to dismantle the CFPB, installing Mick Mulvaney as the director, who publicly stated the bureau should be disbanded. (Jan 26, 2019)

• Trump purged 200,000 veterans’ healthcare applications (due to known administrative errors within VA’s enrollment process and enrollment system) (reported on May 13, 2019)

• On August 2, 2019, Trump requisitioned military retirement funds towards the border wall.

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

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Chromeskull x Ghostface!Reader- “Playing with the bad boys“

I re-watched Scream 4, because of nostalgia and it really reminded me about who Ghostface is. It can be anyone, male or female, which gave me an idea for a story. Let me know what you people think about this.

CHAPTER 1: Looks can be deceiving (You are here)

CHAPTER 2: One cut of information

It was another day at the local police station in Jacksonville and tiered eyes were looking over potential choices of a strong cup of caffeine to wake you up, finally choosing a strong one, with just a little hint of sugar. You haven't got much sleep thanks to your superior giving you supplementary work on another case of murder, but you expected that a dry chuckle coming out from your mouth as you thought about putting this work on yourself because of your own doing.

Murderers, they were all across the globe and who would suspect that the rocky sergeant from Jacksonville was the culprit of these gruesome murders? It always was a perk to be a woman, because none suspected them. Most would feel repulsed and offended, but not you; it was a bonus on your behalf.

"[Name]? We have another case of murder." one of your colleagues from the primary office called, making you turn your head, taking the cup of coffee and walking towards the room where the main team was, looking over files.

"Another Ghostface murder?" you asked, taking a sip of your coffee.

"I wish. This is so much more than the simplest killings of that masked wannabe dude." Josh, your partner said, making you feel a little angry at calling your other persona such names, but you masked it perfectly.

"Then?" you asked, feeling now more curious than ever.

"It's a murderer that we tried to track for some years. He's been sending us videotapes of his killings all across Florida. He's almost like a ghost. We simply cannot find him or try to track him down." your superior said, looking at everyone with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his forehead pulled into an annoyed frown, showing wrinkles of old aging and sleepless nights.

"How come I never heard of it." you stated, more than asked.

"It's a much more complicated case. It's not for a rocky like you, especially a woman. Plus, I don't think you would want to get involved with this case. He kills women." another guy said, laughing a little with the other guys, making you glare at him.

"Enough! Either way, these two killers need to be found and arrested. Do I make myself clear?" your boss said, looking at everyone who nodded and continued with work.

You have been a sergeant for almost six months and you cursed yourself for not hearing of this so-called famous killer of Florida. You felt a little showed out of the headlights by him, because all day this was the subject that runs across the police station and on the tv at the news. It was a perk working at the police, always getting the juicy news and levels of how the investigations were going. So far, your Ghostface persona killer was known to be male and white, so that put you clearly out of potential suspects.

After a long day of work and trying to maintain your normal life; doing the grocery shopping, participating in the book club you were taking part off, you were finally home, putting your bag on a hook in the hallway, you dressed into something more comfortable, a tank top and a pair of black sweatpants. You put some leftover lunch into the microwave to heat up and turned on the news, a smile on your face as the lady talked about the Ghostface murders.

At last, all your hard work appeared on the news, pride swelling up into your chest. If anyone would find out they most likely would question how someone who was supposed to represent good and fighting against crimes, could commit such an atrocity.

Like you would ever be caught.

Walking to your bedroom, you opened your walk-in closet and took a box from the back of the closet, opening it, the black material giving you the rush of the chase, remembering your last victims; the girl was easy to take care of, slitting her throat and breaking her neck was a piece of cake, but her boyfriend was a tough one. Your back still hurt from where he hit you with the chair, but you managed to push him out the window. The fucker survived the fall, but not the knife that had cut his torso, letting his insides run out in a bloody mess.

Your hands were grasping the white screaming mask, a sadistic smile that just your victims have ever seen plastered on your face. It was kind of funny to you; all the chasing the police made and the culprit was right under their nose. Just proved more that mostly everyone wasn't thinking outside the box.

Putting the mask and black material back inside the box and leaving your closet, you went to eat, you will need that and some good rest because you were ready to start another sequel.

If only you knew what you got yourself into.

Somewhere in Jacksonville....

The knife was thrown and impaled straight into the photo on the wall, perfect centering, making Spann and Preston look skeptical at their boss. They knew they should say anything, especially when Jesse was in such a carnage mood. They knew if there was a piggy here, she would most likely end up skinned alive and thrown to the dogs.

The photo on the wall that turned into a target for Jesse was a photo of the most talked news on the tv; Ghostface. The audacity of that punk, trying to get on Chromeskulls territory, it was a mistake that will cost the smaller murderer his life.

"We tried to track down information about him from all the news and police, but the only information is that he is a white male, around the age of 20-25.

'That's all?' Jesse signed, then hit the black luscious desk with a fist, making the furniture shake, and his two assistants to gulp down.

If something annoyed Jesse, it was to be put in the shadow of a rocky killer, someone who just started up and didn't have the veteran skills of someone who walked this way for years. How hard could it be to track down someone? Someone who worked solo, didn't have hundreds of people to work for him and was probably poor as fuck.

Jesse Cromeans felt insulted and anyone who dared to pull such a stunt ended up in a coffin, either skinned alive or dismembered or both.

"We will try to keep tabs of his activity and catch him on his next murder. He will be dead." Spann said, all professionally, never letting her boss down. Jesse raised a hand, in a stopping motion.

'No. I want him alive. I will take personal care of him' he signed, dismissing his seconds in command, leaving him all alone in his gigantic office, a huff of annoyance leaving his scarred lips, one single brown eye glaring at the photo on the wall.

'You don't know what awaits you, Ghostface.'

To be continued....

#Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Chromeskull #Jesse Cromeans #chromeskull x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #ghostface!reader #horror movie #slasher

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artemismoon12writes · 4 years

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Title: The Difference Between Hanging Out and a Date is Flowers

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 9, Day 3; Julian Larson/? Julian is forced to go to the Valentine’s Day Fair, despite last year’s sparking a whole lot of horror for him. Can’t he just have one good day?

---

The Valentines Fair was huge this year; so huge they’d teamed up with Dobry Hall and just rented a fairground outside of town. Julian had planned to just stay in his room all day, given what happened last year. Murdoch refused, telling him he couldn’t have any special privileges when everyone else was out helping with the event.

So instead, he was there… and doing nothing to help because fuck his fellow Stuarts. They’d been following him all week, babying him like this was supposed to help him out emotionally or something. He knew he had baggage, but that was his own business. Let him just ignore these dramatic boys and try, in vain, to have a good day.

Between Logan pretending he’d had feelings for him all along, Sebastian reappearing to say ‘le fuck your healing process’, and whatever bullshit Derek hadn’t grown out of; he was planning to just avoid anyone he knew. Maybe he’d find some of the Day students. Wait, no, Riley Paige would get him to help with something. Fuck; maybe he could find one of Royal’s booths and just chill with Merril. It was almost enough to make him give up on boys altogether; shit, girls were so much less dramatic than these assholes he lived with.

He was looking for Merril’s booth (she’d texted him a pile of apple and pear tarts, so surely he could just follow the smell?) when he saw a short girl chasing Dwight Houston and Bancroft’s sister through the tents, yelling something about rocks. They looked frantic, escaping through a hole in a Hanover tent while she slipped on some of the half-frozen grass; still frosty in the February sun. That sucks… he should do something.

“Hey, need help?” He asked, walking up cautiously; she could be a fan after all. “You took quite the dive there.”

“No, I got it.” She sighed, standing up and brushing herself off. Her hands were red, but not skinned despite the fall. “I just suck at walking I guess.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you trying to kill Houston and Bancroft. Anything those two idiots do to annoy you?” Julian asked, genuinely curious. Dwight Houston did a lot of stupid shit; but his first thoughts usually revolved around whatever Derek did to piss off girls, and that didn’t seem like Houston’s style.

She shook her head, “They lost the collection of gems I had on display for our booth for Prima. Now I have nothing to sell, so Royal is going to take the prize for Dobry.”

“And why’d you trust those two with it?” He knew them by reputation alone for getting into trouble; but not much else.

“Because those two happen to be my best friends.” The girl said, sounding like she couldn’t quite believe it herself. She put on a faint smile though, looking up and sticking out her scraped hand. “Sadie Moore, maybe you’ve heard of me.”

“Julian. Shame enough, I haven’t.” He shook her hand. “You’re new aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I transferred up here from Florida for Junior Year; but from the way the girls in Dobry go on, I’ve become some kind of one woman rumour mill.” She shivered. “It’s freaking cold up here. I don’t know how you all deal with it.”

“Don’t ask me. This winter is just as bad to me. I’m from California and everytime it snows here I get whiplash.” Julian smiled as she laughed. It was a nice laugh. “And one-woman rumour mill? What’s with that?”

She rolled her eyes, “Dobry girls see romance everywhere they look; a chunk of them think I’m dating Dwight, the other half won’t shut up about that time I kissed Laura, and the rest of them think I’ve gotten both of them, when like? Fuck you just cause I’m bi doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Jeez, it’s 2012, I just want to enjoy the Valentines Day Fair without all that.”

“You’re bi?” Julian asked, before he could stop himself.

She wrinkled her nose, suspicious. “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

“No! Just, I don’t meet many people who just say that aloud to people they just met, you know?”

Julian didn’t like being on the back foot with people. Let alone being caught off guard. Sadie kept looking at him until her expression cleared and she judged him not a biphobic asshole- which, wouldn’t that be ironic?

“I guess you’re right. Hey, you want to walk around? I guess I’m off booth duty until someone can find my gems; unless you have your own booth to get to?” She looked over his jacket, “Stuart? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Julian laughed, “I was ordered to show up and nothing more than that. And gems? Like? Rubies or something?”

“Semi-precious at most.” She explained, launching into a long diatribe about online ‘healing crystals’ versus her own, far superior, ethically mined quartz.

By the time they rounded Hanover’s Ferris Wheel (the compromise for a less dangerous ride this year), Julian’d caught himself laughing at Sadie’s geology jokes; sharing the time he snuck up to the Hollywood sign; learnt Sadie liked heavy metal; and told the entire story of Clark, Marcie, and him engaging in a spicy noodle challenge back in LA. He hadn’t even realized they’d walked that far; engrossed in conversation.

The air was turning colder, nipping his ears and turning the tip of Sadie’s dark nose red. She coughed, sticking her hands under her arms. “Fuck, this place is shit. How do people live up here?”

“You were here for December right? You saw it snow, and that didn’t scare you away?” He asked.

“Oh no, snow is pretty!” She insisted, “I’ve gone skiing with my parents in Whistler, that’s fun! But this? Where it’s just grey and gross and cold? Uh, it’s so stupid.”

“Well you not wearing gloves, so maybe that’s why?” Julian pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “Logic. Facts. Maybe I don’t like gloves?”

“You forgot them didn’t you?”

She flushed. “I lent them to Laura actually, she forgot her own back at Prima.”

Julian looked down at her biting the inside of his lip considering. Ah fuck it. He pulled off one of his own gloves and handed it to her. “Here, put your other hand in your pocket. It should be fine.”

Her eyes widened. “You sure?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He looked over at the booths; they were squarely in Hanover territory. Huh. How long had they been walking? He should say hi to Abbot. But he was probably busy running things over here.

“Thanks.” Sadie said, her left hand stretching experimentally with a too-large glove and the right nudging his elbow. “That was pretty nice of you Mr. Larson.”

He snorted. “I was wondering when you’d realize.”

“I don’t watch many dramas. So, it took a bit to realize you were that movie star who goes here.” Sadie said, “Sorry I can’t say I’m a fan of you stuff.”

She looked genuinely apologetic; he shook his head far too quickly. “No, no, that’s… that’s a good thing.”

Julian could count on one hand the amount of people he’d known who were fans first, who he’d genuinely come to like as people. It was nice to talk about work and that was it; it was just work. Half the reason he’d decided to come back to Dalton was to have just a slice of that normal experience. And if he was bombarded by fans? Well, how normal was that?

“Oh, okay.” She said, confused by the quick refusal. “I guess, you want to keep walking?”

“Yeah. Tell me more about skiing, I’ve never gone all the way up to Whistler. Are you good at it?”

It continued like that; making the rounds of the booths, pocketed hands bumping against each other as they avoided the clusters of people pushing their way forward. Every so often Sadie would spy another Dobry girl and lament the loss of her inventory for her booth; but thankfully, Julian was so out of context next to her, there wasn’t an awkward encounter. It was weird, every second Dobry girl they ran into seemed to ask about Bancroft or Houston, expressing surprise they weren’t with her.

“I guess you were right about the Dobry rumour mill. It’s going full force this year.” Julian joked.

Sadie rolled her eyes. “It’s annoying, but hey, considering they’re off hiding together the rumours will hopefully leave me out of it after today.”

“You’re not worried they’ll start to connect you and me then?” Julian asked, the notion suddenly appearing in his own head.

“Like half of them even realized who you were. You’re not going around advertising you’re the famous Julian Larson; and standing next to Dobry’s current resident witch doesn’t help put two and two together.” She pointed out.

“I just haven’t turned on the charm.” Julian joked; it was an old Hollywood myth, but it had some truth to it about hiding in plain sight. He could stride forward, and let everyone know who he was, but it was nice to not have to chase off a horde of teenaged girls (and boys) this year. God knows last year was a shitstorm for that kind of thing.

“Julian!”

“I guess you turned it on.” Sadie smiled, before turning to see Derek coming towards the two of them. She frowned. “Oh, its that guy.”

“You know Derek?” Julian asked before Derek cut him off.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! You haven’t been answering your phone. We needed you to help with the Lunch Tent.” Derek was annoyed. That much was obvious.

“I’ve had my phone on silent. Murdoch told me to show up, and that’s all I’m doing. I don’t care if Stuart loses again this year; I just want to have a Me Day.”

Derek’s eyes flicked over to Sadie, “Me Day huh?”

“Come off it, not everyone is a Don Juan wannabe like you.” Sadie’s gloved hand went to her hip, daring him to say anything further.

Derek blinked, alright then. He looked back to Julian, reaching out to pull him away. “Come on, I’m not doing Logan’s prefect duties alone.”

“Why not just let Logan do them?” Julian countered, stepping backwards.

Derek gave him a look. “You know it’s a two-person job, if not a three person job trying to control these freshman on any project.”

“Sounds like not my problem.” Julian shrugged. “Ask Murdoch for help, I’m out of here.”

“Julian!”

“He said no.” Sadie said firmly before Julian reached out and tugged her hand, motioning towards the gap in the booths. His almost laugh met her mischievous eyes.

Before Derek even knew what was going on, Sadie and Julian had taken a page out of her own pursuit that morning and ducked between the booths, darting down and around staves and tent poles to lose him. Maybe they ran for longer than necessary, maybe that was half the fun. They reached the Windsors row, gasping for breath and laughing.

“Do you think he tripped and fell?” Sadie asked, brushing her curly, brown hair out of her face.

“No, he’s more coordinated than that.” Julian said.

Sadie shrieking with laughter and shoving him, “You’re so rude!”

“You’re the one who faceplanted!”

“By accident!”

“It was funny.” Julian pointed out, avoiding Sadie’s playful shove and instead catching her hands and looking down at her like he was lecturing her. “These are dangerous weapons, I ought to report you for use of deadly force. Except I won’t, because you’re tiny.”

“Short jokes? Really?” Her grin betrayed that she found it just as funny. “Well, at least I don’t hit my head on doorframes.”

“You laugh, but I always have to duck getting into limos.”

“Oh that is the most Hollywood thing you have said yet.”

“I’ve babysat Angelina’s kids.”

“Angelina Jolie?”

“I can go on.”

“Oh my god, you’re a dick.” Sadie laughed, “I’d hex you, but I don’t think it would stick.”

“So they’ve been saying about me, since the day I was born.” Julian said, dramatically put upon. “I endure such slings and volleys of-”

“If you start quoting Shakespeare, I will lose it.”

“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage-” Julian grinned, ignoring Sadie’s protests to get him to quiet.

“I suck at English, come on!”

“And then is heard no more: it is a tale, told by an idiot,” Julian continued.

“Yeah! You’re the idiot!” She tried to interrupt.

“Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

“Yeah, my fury. Goddamn you actors.” She said, looking up with pink cheeks to stick her tongue out at him. “If I could just recall lines like that, I’d never have to use a spell book again, I’d just memorize them all.”

“It’s a gift. What can I say? Not everyone is as good as me.” Julian teased to Sadie’s exasperated smile.

They paused, realizing Julian was still holding her hands and sprang apart; not realizing how close they were. Julian felt his own face flush but hid it well enough. Now wasn’t the time, nor the day, to really get close to someone; even if she was quite pretty, he had to admit to himself.

“Uh, so back there you seemed to know Derek. Even though it took you a bit to realize who I was?” He tried.

She coughed, waving a hand carelessly. “Yeah, well everyone in Prima got to witness what can only be described as the most pathetic display of pining in the history of the world. Casey’s already told everyone to stay away from him because she said he’s a cheater; but then he showed up one day before Winter Break with this giant apology bouquet, and get this, it’s full of white lilies- which I didn’t know she was allergic to, but if you really feel that way about her, maybe? I don’t know? Know her allergies? But also, those are funeral flowers. As far as apologies go, it’s pretty shit.”

“You’re friends with Casey?” Surprise tinged Julian’s voice.

“Not friends per say, but she’s part of the welcoming committee. She’s pretty cool.” Sadie clarified. “How are you friends with a guy like that?”

Julian shrugged. “Derek’s pretty cool. He’s a really good friend when you get down to it, but yeah he is kind of shit with girls. I guess that’s what happens when your best friend since childhood is a gay guy. It’s not like he’s really been comparing notes. Logan and him aren’t that bad once you get to know them.”

“Well, I guess I have pretty biased sources.” Sadie said, waving around at the Windsor tents. “If my friend Morgan’s cousin wasn’t one of yours, I think I’d probably just see a Stuart badge and kick you guys on sight.”

“So violent Miss Moore.” Julian smiled. “We are kind of dicks though, so fair enough.”

“You’re not half bad though Mr. Larson.” She teased back. “You’re fun enough to hang out with.”

“I’m an exception to every rule I will assure you.”

“Don’t start quoting shit again. I will end you.”

“Only if you can reach that high.”

“Oh you!”

“Hi Sadie! Oh, and Julian? I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Reed Van Kamp said from behind the table of the nearest booth. “You two enjoying the fair?”

The pair smiled; Reed was always a welcome sight, no matter who you were.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty fun. We’ve just been walking around. I thought you’d be out with Shane?” Sadie asked, coming under the tent top to talk more easily. “He mentioned something about Valentines plans.”

Reed looked down bashfully, “Well, last Windsor party got us all banned from Warbler activities; Blaine thought it’d be good if I was sitting down for all of the Fair. So, we’re doing our date on the weekend instead.”

“Aww, that’s cute. Then you won’t have to deal with Valentines Day crowding.” Sadie pointed out. “Really its working out in your favour.”

“I guess.” Reed said, then looked over at Julian. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought I heard you were staying in all day.”

“What Murdoch wants; Murdoch gets.” Julian shrugged.

Reed smiled. “It’s good to see you anyways; at least someone gets to have a date today.”

“Oh we’re not-”

Reed flushed, “Oh heck, I’m sorry! I just assumed. That was bad of me. Here, have some cookies on me.”

“You don’t have to.” Sadie said even as Julian took what was offered.

He nudged her. “They’re good, take some. Wait, these are some of Kurt’s right?”

“Yeah, it took David and Wes all day to clean up the aftermath. He was a man on a mission!” Reed said, pushing a little ribbon-wrapped packet at each of them; then pushing them out as he cut himself on the edge of the plastic and had to call for a band-aid.

Julian and Sadie wandered off, happily snacking on their free cookies. They really were quite good, even if Sadie said there was nothing magical about them.

“You know, that’s the second person to assume we’re on a date.” Julian pointed out.

“And what of it?” Sadie asked.

“Well, what makes a date not a date?” Julian crunched down on another cookie. “You have two people sharing food and talking, and what makes it different between just hanging out and a date per say?”

“I think someone needs to ask and the other needs to accept. But yeah, its pretty arbitrary.” Sadie nodded. “Most people hold hands or some shit, or kiss. You saying you want this to be a date?”

“I’m just saying it could be an option.” Julian said, mulling the idea over in his mind. It would be nice to be on a normal date; not one where he had to sneak around with a guy and pretend they were just friends, or hide from paparazzi with a girl because his agent wanted maximum exposure for their upcoming film together. “It doesn’t need to be a thing. But I’ve liked talking to you. We should do this again, whatever you want it to be.”

She pursed her lips. “Hmm. I accept. You need to get me flowers though.”

“A date it is.” Julian confirmed, laughing at how easy that was. He offered his ungloved hand; hers slipping into it easily, with a crinkle at the corner of her eyes.

“So, flowers? What kind do you like?”

“Not lilies.” Sadie joked.

“Belladonna maybe? What do witches like?”

“Well this witch likes roses.”

Julian froze, “Uh maybe something else?”

He face paled; she’d probably heard from Dwight and Laura. “Oh shit! I’m sorry! Look don’t worry about it.”

“No, no, it’s just, they’re not-”

“Marigolds then.” She said, hurried.

“I can work with that.” Julian recovered, the awkwardness still lingering. “You shall be showered in marigolds. You’ll be covered in pollen before the day is out.”

“Now that’s a picture.” Sadie said, letting him lead her towards the nearest flower booth and moving her head so he could tuck a marigold into her curls. “Aww, that’s so cute.” Julian agreed.

The rest of the day was much of the same. It was like they’d said; there wasn’t really much of a difference between hanging out and a date beyond the declaration of intent. It was fun though. He liked being able to wander around and feel like, yeah, this was a date. It was something he could say aloud. And she was nice. Maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere, but as far as dates went he’d had far worse ones. It was certainty better than dealing with all the romantic drama an all-boys school seemed to kick up.

By the time everyone started packing up, they were sitting on a bench near the entrance and exit gates, sharing a basket of chili fries. Sadie was telling him about her last boating adventure around the Florida Keys, and Julian’d been wistfully imagining a surf contest between the two of them if she ever ended up on the West Coast.

The Prima and Royal prefects were gathering their girls near the gate. Julian looked over, “Do you need to get going?”

“Probably. I wish I had been able to drive here on my own, but the roads are too icy for my bike.”

“Why the hell would you bike all the way here? The fairgrounds are like, ten miles from Dobry.”

“No, motorbike. I ride sometimes with some other students, but I can’t do shit in the winters up here.”

“You have a motorbike?” Julian asked, “You realize that makes you like, ten points hotter.”

She blushed. “You’re an idiot. But yeah, I guess it does. Maybe I’ll take you out sometime when the weather gets warmer.”

“It’s another date I guess,” Julian said, crumpling up the paper from the finished fries. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around though? The girl clinging to the cool guy on the motorbike?”

“Well, it’s either you or Allison, and she’s still in her baby gay phase so I don’t want to mess with that.” Sadie stood, before bending down to kiss the corner of Julian’s mouth. She flushed. “I’ll see you around.”

Julian looked after her, a little shocked but in a good way. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She waved as she went to join the other Dobry girls at the buses. Maybe he’d have to join the rest of his own House at some point; but either way… it had been a good day. Yeah.

#daltonficbigbang2020 #daltonfic #oneshot #pg #otp #brotp #moorrson #julian larson #sadie moore #Derek Siegerson #reed van kamp #prima #royal #stuart #artemiswrites

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plazaswanboats · 5 years

Text

Update + DCP Tag

I originally wrote this back at the end of June and then didn’t post it for some reason, but I wanted to do a quick update (for all 0 of my readers, so really just for future me looking back on this time of my life) since I move to Florida in just over a day! Packing has been hectic, but I think I’m almost done. I also extended my departure date and fell into the large group of people who were given January 23 instead of January 30. And since itineraries came out this week, I’m thrilled to be able to say I’m working in my absolute favorite place, Future World. I was one of those terribly sad people who didn’t receive their itinerary on time, but getting my dream location absolutely made it worth the wait, and I’m so excited to find out what pavilion I’ll be working in.

In addition, because I was really bored and sick of all the waiting when I originally drafted this post a month ago, I thought I’d do the DCP tag just for fun. I know it’s a vlogger thing or whatever, and I usually don’t even watch those videos when I’m looking through a channel, but I love talking about myself and I found a list of the questions people apparently use so I figured I’d just do it in text form instead!

1) How did you hear about the program? I’ve known about the DCP since high school. I probably found out about it via Tumblr; I remember I used to follow a blog called disneylens that has since disappeared and the girl who ran it was on her program. At the time, I was a little more involved in the circle of Disney Tumblrs and they had networks of current CPs/CMs so it was easy to learn more about the program. I was definitely fascinated and became pretty familiar with the application process years before I actually applied. But back then I really worried that my hearing loss would make the DCP very difficult for me, so I was never sure if I’d go for it once I got to college.

2) How was the interview process? I found it to be pretty easy! I went into way more detail in my last post about my application experience, but to quickly sum up, I worried most about the WBI. I did a ton of research on both the WBI and PI, and tried to remember that these were my chances to show Disney why they should hire me so I would be more excited than nervous. I’m not usually the most confident person, but I never seriously thought I wouldn’t get in. It was only until after my acceptance that I started to see how complicated applying is for some people.

3) Where were you when you found out? To be really honest, I think I was casually checking my email in the bathroom as I was getting ready to leave for class. I saw the acceptance email, and with minutes to spare before I had to walk across campus, hurriedly opened up my laptop to check my offer letter and find out my role. I did end up making it to class on time, but it was definitely an interesting experience having to put my excitement on hold for three hours to participate in that week’s discussion.

4) What is your role? Preferred roles? My top choice was Attractions, and I was really excited to get it. The fact that I’m working in my favorite park makes it even better. My other top roles were Merchandise and Photopass. I figured the former could be pretty fun with a lot of interesting potential locations, and I’ve been pretty passionate about photography for the better part of a decade now. In retrospect, I also wish I’d listed Custodial higher, since people always say it’s so much fun.

5) How did you find your roommates? How many do you want? I ended up going random. I was looking, albeit not as hard as I could have been. I don’t really relate to a lot of the posts on the FB groups, and I feel pretty different than a lot of the people posting in terms of my interests, so I was often hesitant to reach out for fear of feeling like the odd one out in the eventual roommate situation. I did get my top choice of complex, and I’m just going to be optimistic about meeting new people since there’s no guarantee the person you link with is anything like they say they are anyway!

6) What are you going to miss while on the program? College! I just graduated in May, and I miss my home so much. It’s going to be so tough being so far away and not even being able to go to one game this fall to see my band friends, as well as missing my first Rivalry after graduation. I also miss giving campus tours so much more than I expected to. I will miss NJ a bit, but more than anything, I’m going to miss my college experience, especially in the fall, which has always been my favorite season to be on campus.

7) What’s your favorite Disney park? EPCOT Center! I say that specifically because current Epcot doesn’t really cut it, but I still list it as my favorite. I love 80s EPCOT so much, with its incredible lineup of attractions. I love what the park was and what it still could be (but perhaps not entirely what it is right now). Some of my most treasured childhood memories are eating purple bread in Wonders of Life, walking World Showcase barefoot after a thunderstorm, and watching Tapestry of Nations. I love Illuminations more than life itself, and Figment is my number one character. Most of my favorite attractions are in that park, even in their current forms. I still love Epcot despite its tragic slide towards Magic Kingdom 2.0. Nights in the park are the one place I feel most at peace and at home. And now I get to work there and experience it from a whole new perspective. :’)

8) First thing you want to do when you get there? I’m heading down early and going to Epcot and Magic Kingdom the weekend before check in! So I plan on getting an “I’m Celebrating” button for the weekend and hopefully making a beeline for my home, the Imagination pavilion. As far as being an actual CP, I fully intend on going to Epcot after Traditions even if I have to go alone. MK fireworks just don’t do it for me and I want my first park as a CM to be my favorite one and my home park. And Illuminations raised me so, to me, there’s no contest as to what I’m doing that night. Also, the DCP bloggers without taste have clued me in that sometimes it can be hard to make HEA after Traditions, so good thing the superior fireworks show goes off an hour later! (Which will really come in handy considering I have afternoon Traditions...)

9) What is number one on your bucket list? Honestly, I’ve tried to make a bucket list and it’s been incredibly hard. I’m lucky to have grown up going anywhere from one to three times a year since 1999, and I’ve done just about everything I would want to. However, I think I’d really like to do Dapper Day. I’ve been slowly getting more comfortable presenting how I really want to and revamping my wardrobe so I actually don’t mind getting dressed up as much anymore, and the idea of getting to wear dapper masculine clothes and take pictures in the parks sounds like a fun experience.

10) One thing you hope to take away from the program? I think I’d like to be able to leave Disney, whenever that may be, knowing that I made a positive impact on at least one guest. I love reading stories about magical moments and I tend to scroll through the #castcompliment Twitter hashtag whenever I get bored because it makes me happy. I’ve met a lot of cool CMs that I still remember, and hope to pay it forward and be that CM for even just one guest. Also, networking would be nice!

#disney files #dcp fall 2019

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frangipanidownunder · 6 years

Note

Would you write a sequel to your last One Son fic, maybe before The Unnatural where Mulder tries to apologize? Your fic hurt me in the best kind of way.

Healing: fic

A/N You can read the original fic Superficial Burns but you don’t have to read it to understand this sequel, but it might help.

Thanks for the prompt, anon. This is set post One Son through to The Unnatural.

They play house too soon. He presses to share the master bedroom,“to add authenticity”, but she pushes him out. She’s being petty, she knows, pointingout toothpaste tube and toilet seat misdemeanours. Still, he’s genuinely playful,attentive for a while, but she flips her gloves at him, bats away thecamcorder, turns her cheek as he goes to kiss her. Ironically, their discordonly gives them more authenticity as a couple.

She shut him out and sheshouldn’t have been surprised when he drops her home and doesn’t ask to carryher bag up. Her apartment is as empty as she feels. She goes to bed and punishesherself with the desperate noise he made when he came inside her, the way hislips pressed against the juncture of her jaw and ear lobe, the slow opening ofhis eyes, pupils dilated, surprise followed by awe followed by guilt.

She should have quit. She shouldhave walked away. He did.

Arthur Dales tells Mulder she saved his life, that she issavvy and Mulder has the good grace to look contrite. He’s mysterious about therobbery in the bank, about how he knew the female accomplice. He rambles onabout déjà vu and Scully can’t help but review the past through the lens of thepresent. Like the memory of their frantic coupling in her kitchen is trapped inthe wrong spot in her brain. Like if it only happened yesterday, she would saysomething to him, he would say something to her.

And then he admits to an onlinefriendship with Karin Berquist, a woman enamoured of him yet he acts like hecan’t see it. She wonders just how ignorant he can really be.

He fucked her in her apartmentand hasn’t talked about it since.

She saves a boy in a phonebooth.Saves a child. What she can’t do is save herself. Padgett’s words burn throughher. Agent Scully is already in love.She hates it. She fucking hates that it’s someone else telling her the secretsof her own heart. And that it is so fucking obvious.

She should have quit.

After, Mulderbooks a motel room. He won’t leave her alone. Part of her wants to yell at himthat he’s as bad as Padgett, always there, hovering. He keeps looking at herchest like there’s a gaping hole there. It’s not that her heart is missing,that’s the thing. It’s that it’s still there. Beating. Full of a secret, hersecret. And she’s sure he can see it.

“Scully,there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you for a while,” he says buthe’s lying across the bed with his long legs stretched out and his tee clingingto his frame and that soft expression he wears when he’s off the clock.

“I’mtired.” She sounds like Laura Petrie.

His lipspush out and his eyes flick to the television screen briefly. When he turnsback to look at her he sits up and rests his elbows on his knees, rubbing atthe back of his hair. He’s tired too. “I thought I’d lost you,” he says and he’salready taking a huge gulp of air in. He slaps the bed linen and she sees thathe is trembling. “I thought you were dead. In my apartment. On my floor. Yourheart gone.”

“I’mfine, Mulder.” She’ll always be fine. Heart or not.

Hecovers his face with his hands. Beautiful long fingers. His strangled moan is ashock. For a split second she thinks he’s weeping, but when his hands fallaway, his eyes are dry and angry. “You’re fine,” he says. “Well, that makes itall right.” The low rumbling is not, she finds out, on the television. It iscoming from him.

Sheslips under the covers of her bed and turns out the lamp. He doesn’t move. Justgrowls like a wounded, angry Alpha.

The case in Las Vegas is nothing but a fever dream. Mulderpries her for more information but she can’t tell him anything. He accepts it,offers to buy her a bagel.

“Realcream cheese,” he says and she laughs. It feels like her heart is beating to adifferent rhythm. A lighter one.

Thediner is too shiny but she lets him yammer on as she tries to hide her eyesfrom the brightness. The bagel is good. Mulder is relaxed, smiling. These arethe times she knows she’ll never quit. He sips his second coffee so slowly shebegins to wonder if he’s building up to something.

“You okay,Mulder?”

He looksout to the street where an old couple wander past, arm in arm. “They seem happytogether,” he says. “How do you suppose that feels?”

“Are youreally asking my expert opinion on the longevity of relationships, Mulder?”

Hisfingers thrum on the table top, scattering grains of sugar. He chuckles. “We’reshit at this, aren’t we Scully?”

“This?”

“Talking.”

“Ah,yes. That.”

He doesthat slow blink again and she sees them in her apartment, rutting. Baseemotion. Need. The burn on her fingers.

“Ishould have told you earlier, after…you know…that night. I was out of line.What I said to you about making it personal. Diana…she believes in me and I…”

“Ibelieve in you, Mulder.” She stands up. He says nothing more. No scramblingbackwards, no apology, nothing. He fucked her in her apartment and then walkedaway. She holds his gaze just enough to make his lips press together. “I alwayshave.”

He letsher leave. She should have quit.

He callsher later. Wants to come round. She tells him she’s busy. He whispers a sorryas she cuts him off. He arrives 30 minutes later. He walks past her, goes tothe kitchen. To the same spot.

“Why areyou here, Mulder?”

Hestands where he stood, where he put his hands on her. Where she unzipped hispants and he bunched up her skirt. “You said that before,” he says, “And thenwe…”

Shefolds her arms around her ribs. Covers her heart. “Fucked.”

Heflinches.

“It’swhat we did, Mulder. You could hardly ascribe a more romantic name to it. Didyou tell Diana?”

“What?No!”

His too-quickoutburst makes her feel unexpectedly superior. He fucked her and walked away.And maybe he has pushed it deep inside ever since, too.

Hescratches his chin. “I stood outside your building for ten minutes that night, arguingwith myself about whether to turn round and go back to you.”

“You’repretty hard to argue against,” she says. “You have this way of twistingeverything into the neat theory you’ve already designed.”

“Scully.”It’s more resignation than warning. He leans back against the counter, one kneebent towards her. “I came here to say what I should have said then. That I’msorry I said that to you, about Diana. That I should never have reduced yourinput into our partnership to something purely emotional. I…” His hand slamshis bent thigh. “I am sorry, Scully. Truly. I never meant it to happen…”

“Youneed to leave.”

“Thatway,” he adds but he’s already nearly at the door. He looks back, framed in thedoorway. “I never meant it to happen that way, Scully. You mean more to me thanthat, much more.”

He shutsthe door and she leans against it listening to him leave again. Footstepsfading. He won’t wait outside tonight.

Shetries to sleep but her skin is crawling, burning. Her heart is red hot andheavy in her chest. She imagines strips of it peeling away, shavings of herlove falling deep into an empty cavity. But this time, she doesn’t think sheshould have quit. She knows she can never.

At 2am she drives across town.She knocks quietly. On his couch, he is backlit by the soft ocean colours ofhis fish tank. His stubble cuts a line across his jaw that is as sharp as thestabbing in her chest. Her fingers slide in and out of each other, knucklesrubbing together.

“You mean more to me too, Mulder,”she says. “And I’m sorry for asking you to leave. I…” she licks the dry patch onher lip and the couch creaks as he stands up. “I just wanted to say I’m sorrytoo. I am not good at this.” There is a tear building at the corner of one eye.It’s a weakness she dislikes. A demonstration of her vulnerability that she’sspent years trying to overcome. But he presses his thumb to it, collects hersoftness and lets it run down his wrist.

“Can we start again?”

“Ignore six years of partnership?”

His hand is a familiar comfort onher lower back as he urges her to sit. “No, use six years of partnership to ouradvantage instead of using it as wedge between us.”

One of his mollies floats to theside of the tank and she watches its graceful fins and tail fluttering in thewater. “How do we do that?”

“Doing more of that thing we’reshit at?” He laughs and she cuffs away the tears streaking her cheeks.

“And Diana? Where does she fit inall this?”

He looks ahead, at the posters onhis wall that catch the passing headlights from the street below. “Where shealways did, Scully. In the past.”

They flirt over clichés in the basement office. When hegrapples her tofutti rice dreamsicle from her hands, their skin sparks togetherin way that tingles but doesn’t burn. He kisses her lips and tells her he’sgoing to see Arthur Dales.

“InFlorida?”

“No, he’shere in Washington.”

She watches him for a while. The ease with which he swingsthe bat. The movement of his shoulders. He’s in his element.

“So,uh… I get this message marked urgent on my answering service from one FoxMantle telling me to come down to the park for a very special very early orvery late birthday present. And, Mulder… I don’t see any nicely wrappedpresents lying around so, what gives?”

It’s notuntil he tells her to “get over here, Scully,” she fully understands what thisis. Sure, it’s baseball. Sure, they flirt. Sure, it’s a date, Mulder-style. Butit’s more than the sum of its parts.

It’shealing.

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #angst #fictober #post one son pre the unnatural

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beyondconfessor · 6 years

Text

Visceral

[7/20]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: Sara Lance/Alex Danvers

Summary: Maybe, this could be enough

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

J’onn had come to a decision about the CIA chatter after thinking over it for the next few days: extra precautions. Alex and Winn were going to go up and act as backup recon to the crew. They were going to go ahead of time and neither the CIA nor the DEO agents were to be made aware (not including J’onn and Agent Merkel, who were both some of the highest ranking superiors Alex had in the DEO, anyway, so it made sense).

Alex had been anxious about the idea. Though she loved a good field mission, the idea that it was away from her recruits and Supergirl made her feel antsy about it. Still, when J’onn brought her in for the briefing with Merkel, she realised it wasn’t because J’onn had asked her to be there. It was because of Merkel.

“You and I don’t do missions often. But you have a good head, you take and give orders well and you don’t lose it when the mission goes sideways. If I want anyone on my back, it’s you.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Merkel didn’t offer any smile. Her face was perpetually frown, eyes crinkled as if she was always critically evaluation what was in front of her. “Don’t let it go to your head,” was all she said, before leaving. Alex didn’t have a clue what she meant by that. From a compliment?

Going away, and given only a few days notice, meant she had to handover her lesson plans to Vasquez, who would be taking over for the two weeks. Vasquez had met her recruits a few times, as representative of the Comms crew, but she had also once been Alex’s right hand and it felt right to give it to her. After-all, they’d both been field agents together before Vasquez separated to communications.

Before Vasquez took over entirely, she did the one thing she’d put off and met Nilo face-to-face. At this stage, it was obvious she’d singled him out. It took time to go over the meaning of Sara’s words and place that in the frame of her own work. On one hand, she could mark his records, on the other, that would tarnish his ability if she was able to change that. She couldn’t unmark his records once it was there.

Eventually, she came to a decision as she sat in the small training room, facing Nilo across a table as the others worked on a few exercises she left them with.

“So,” she began, looking over the notes she drafted for the one-on-one. “What do you think I should be saying?”

Nilo’s mouth parted, before he shook his head and shrugged, his arms folding in front of him. “You tell me.”

Alex raised her eyebrow and waited.

“Ma’am,” he added, though it came out strained. She waited a few more moments and then watched as facade crumbled. “Look, I thought I did well, but then you act as if I kicked your dog on that day. And then you avoid me for a day, couldn’t even meet my eyes! You even spoke to Saunders days ago and she abandoned us to go on and do her own thing. I expected that you were going to kick her out. We all did after that stunt, but you kept her and now I get shafted with this shit.”

Alex drew in a breath, abandoning her notes. “Do you know what the point of the mission was?” she asked. Nilo shrugged. “The point was that I gave you a mission to get a dossier with overwhelming numbers. If you chose to go in on level two, everyone from level three would have come at your back. The same was meant to happen when you skipped two to go to three. If you hadn’t done level one correctly, it would have been more numbers on your six. Do you want to know what happened instead?”

Nilo blinked, surprised. “So, it was a suicide mission. That’s why the information was wrong.”

“Yes,” Alex said. “For two reasons. One, to teach you that you’re going to go in blind more often than not, and two, to teach you to retreat. But you didn’t retreat, you risked your team for out-dated intel.”

“That was just a prop though, eh?”

“I said to treat the entire mission as if it was real, that included what was in the dossier. You think that I couldn’t have spent the five needed minutes to typed up some pseudo current intel instead of manually printing pages of intel, that I had to get signed off on by people way above your authority, to place in?” A lot of the information wasn’t really meant for the general public, but neither was it hidden from them anymore.

“You…” he trailed off, the words sticking in his throat. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Tell me this, then,” Alex said. “Say it was real intel. Say it was intel that was important. Would you ask your team to risk their lives, knowing that if they get caught, you won’t go back for them?”

“Maybe!” he said, “is that why we’re here. National security from the unknown.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, “What if I lead you. If told you that if you go in there with me, and you fall down, I will leave you there to be handed over to the enemy. Would you follow me through hell?”

An argument rose and died on his face as his shoulders slackened. “Maybe,” he tried, “I mean, if it’s worth it.”

“Then you’re not doing it for me, are you?” She leant forward across the table. “Look at me. Nilo, you and all those recruits. If I take you in, I will get you out if there’s even the single chance you’ll make it, I do that because I need you to know that I would never ask anything more of you or my team that I would not ask of myself.”

“I didn’t see her,” he said. “I mean, maybe, but not really.”

That dishonestly gave way to a rage inside of Alex. “You want to know what I saw? Because I must have been over that footage at least ten time, and I don’t see how you could have missed Warren. She’d be shot in the leg and you left her there so you could run out with the dossier. You left Saunders behind, by herself to die because she disobeyed an order. If that simulation had been real, Saunders probably was the difference between a slaughter and most of your team getting out alive. She was twice the person you were in that simulation, that’s why she’s still here.”

Nilo’s face crumbled before he turned away as a flush of red struck through him. Although the expression was slowly shifting to fury, Alex knew him well enough to know that there was more to it. Rather than poke at him for a response, she looked away from him, so she could just see his expression from the corner of her eyes, and waited.

After a few moments, he cleared his voice and said, “So…I failed the mission.” And then, as he drew in a breath, he incredulously added, “But…I got what you asked for. I did what you said to do.”

“You didn’t check the information, you didn’t verify that it was the correct one, you left your team behind and you risked all their lives,” she began before softening her voice. “You began so well and then I think you got carried away with trying to win. Look, Nilo, I want you to become a leader. I think you’d be great, but if you are to become a C.O. you need to start thinking about your team, they will live and die for you because they need to believe that you’ll get them out, if you can’t do that, they will turn on you so fast that you’ll either die, or worse, become one of the people we keep in the DEO basement locked up. That’s the big take-away from this.”

Nilo nodded, though he’d lost the swagger and pride he’d walked in with. “I don’t think I can,” he said as he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “I’m not cut out ––“

“Yes you are,” Alex affirmed. “This is your first year in training, you have years before being a C.O. will even be on the table and you have a lot of work to do. But if you listen to your team, if you work with them, if you actually meet them as their equal and lead, then you’ll be great. Stop looking out for just yourself. You’re not alone any more.”

Nilo drew in a deep breath and nodded, holding eye contact this time, and Alex, for the first time, gave him a smile as she rose to her feet. “You’ve got this.”

“Okay.” He said, and then offered her a small smile in return. “Alright,” he said again, standing. “Thanks Agent Danvers. You’re all right.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

Alex made sure that he went back into the training room, before leaving her class in the hands of Vasquez to run over finer points of the mission with J’onn and Winn. She was confident in Agent Vasquez training technique. She’d be softer than herself, but not so much that the class forgot that she was their commanding officer.

Heading up another floor, she headed to the labs where J’onn and Winn were going over what gear to take for the mission.

“There you are,” Winn said as she came to stand beside him, just as he closed one of the larger surveillance gear packs. Alex gave a short, don’t even try it expressions before looking to J’onn.

“What do the others think we’re up to?”

“Recon mission in Florida, half-forced holiday,” J’onn explained. “Merkel’s aware that you’ll be up with them, but the less that people know, the better. When’s the soonest that you’re able to leave?”

“Tonight,” Alex said. She could leave sooner, but night gave Winn enough time to get things ready, as well as allow her inform Kara that she’ll be out of town for a bit. Though she knew her sister could handle herself, it was comforting to know that while she was going through a volatile tile, J’onn and James would keep an eye on her.

“I can…also do tonight,” Winn said. “I’ll need to run by and make J- some friends aware. Feed my fish and all that. How long will we be gone?”

“As long as it takes,” J’onn said. “The auction is expected to happen in six days, but Merkel runs the shots. She’ll keep you both up to date.” Alex nodded, she expected it to take a week, probably even two, which meant little contact back home while she sorted that out.

“So….are we flying up?” Winn asked.

“Not unless you can get weapons and surveillance gear on a domestic flight,” J’onn said, his voice laced with just enough irony to drive the point.

“No, I just thought…” and Winn trailed off, probably realising that if they took one of the DEO planes then they wouldn’t be “undercover” for very long. “Right, got it. We’re taking one of the SUV’s, aren’t we?”

“The silver one, so you will both blend in.”

Winn frowned, looking between J’onn and Alex. “Seriously?” he asked. Alex nodded, the SUV blended right in with traffic. There was always a dozen on the road at any given time and They’ll look like a couple going on holidays up north. No one would be one the wiser.

“Good, you two get sorted and meet back by six tonight to head out.”

Alex nodded, a quick, “Yes sir,” as response, just as Win opened his mouth, looking as though there was a dozen questions at the tip of his tongue. Alex shared a brief look with J’onn before heading out, leaving him to handle Winn. There were time when Alex was vividly aware that Winn hadn’t gone through the same rigorous training program that the other agents had. Though he was just as much a part of the team than anyone else, and she wouldn’t have it any other way, Winn’s ease at talking back and questioning C.O.’s direct orders was often something that rubbed at her.

Probably because Alex had been in trouble more than a few times for talking back or disobeying. She’d learnt when and where to hold her tongue, whereas Winn didn’t have to learn the necessity of that self discipline.

Leaving the lab, Alex tied off a few loose threads at work, before checking out weapons and a science kit from the labs. She also took one of the kevlar vests, moving them all to the silver SUV they’d be taking on mission.

It was early afternoon when she went home and packed her bags, taking clothes that were less Alex Danvers, and more Kara. Pastels and cardigans, no one would look at her and think that she was anyone on a mission to prevent a black market auction from happening. Bag packed with most necessities, Alex changed out of her work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt so she didn’t appear to conspicuous as she went to visit her sister.

Before she dropped in on CatCo Media, she picked up a bag of cinnamon doughnuts and coffees to take to her sister, feeling guilty at the idea of leaving her. She wasn’t Kara’s keeper, and technically she probably needed more protected than Supergirl, given the lack of bulletproof-ness, but it still felt like her responsibility.

One day they would both be ninety, sitting in rocking chairs on a porch and Alex would still feel the need to be Kara’s protector.

Down in the CatCo lobby, she spoke the receptionist staff who lead her into the elevator, advising her of what floor Kara’s office was on. It wasn’t the first time she’d been at CatCo, but she wasn’t sure that she’d been there under good terms before.

She ran into James on her way to Kara’s desk, who shot her a confused look. “Day off?” he asked.

“Sort of,” she answered. “I’m sure Winn will get you up to speed,” she explained briefly. At Kara’s desk, she found her sister furiously talking to Lena Luthor –– a woman, who despite Alex’s original beliefs, had proven to be worthy of Kara’s friendship. As Kara spoke, Lena appeared utterly involved in the conversation, though she said little, allowing Kara to babble on, her hands move in conversation, adjusting her glasses at the end of her point before Lena said something that begun Kara off a new tangent again.

“–– said that statistics of human weapon violence far outweighs Alien. I mean, if you look at Australia, Japan, even Canada, there’s this…” and Kara trailed off, catching sight of Alex. “What are you doing here?” she asked, before seemingly to realise how rude that sounded. “Not that it’s not good to see you, just that I didn’t expect to see you here. Is Mum okay?”

“Mum’s fine. I just came to say that I’m going away for a few days and if you could collect mail for me for a for that time?”

Kara’s mouth parted to say something, before remembering that talking openly about Alex’s work wasn’t something she should be doing in a public space, not that Lena nor James weren’t aware of her work.

“Ms Danvers,” Lena said warmly. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Alex returned before turning to her sister. “I brought doughnuts and coffee,” she said in way of offering, handing the bag over. Her sister leapt on the doughnuts, scoffing one in her face before delightedly announcing that they were still warm.

“How long will you be gone for?”

“Two weeks, probably.”

“Probably,” Kara repeated. “Alex…”

“Two weeks, maybe even less,” she said again, filling her voice with optimism. “Winn’s coming with me, but you’ll still have James, Lena and J’onn,” she said, giving Kara a smile.

“And Sam,” Lena added.

“Yes, and Sam,” she agreed.

“I know, I just…can’t I come?”

“No, this is a work thing,” Alex said. If Supergirl started appearing up in the North, saving kittens from trees, it wouldn’t take long before anyone from the DEO began to realise that Alex was trailing around as back-up to her nearly everywhere. No, she had to do it with just her and Winn. Old school. “You’ll hardly notice that I’m gone.”

“What about our pizza and pot-sticker night?” Kara asked.

“I’m sure Lena would be an appropriate substitute. Right?” she asked, looking at the woman, whose smile blossomed at the mention of it.

“Of course. We can make a night of it, or keep it as relaxed as you would like,” she said, the hint of an Irish accent seeping through as it always seemed to when she grew excited around Kara. Alex was someone who probably didn’t count herself as having the greatest “gay-dar”, but both her and Maggie had come to same conclusion that Lena was crushing hard on Kara. Whether romantically or out of awestruck admiration was another thing entirely, but there was certainly something starstruck in the way that Lena looked at her.

“Thanks Lena,” Kara said, and there was a warmth in her voice that eased a worry Alex didn’t realise she had until then. Whatever Kara was working on had certainly eased her soul. That was something, at least.

“Do you have my keys?” she asked.

“Yep. I’ll grab your mail, and use up anything in your fridge that’ll expire.”

“And leave my clothes on my hangers after what you did to my last dress,” she warned, remembering all to well at finding the broken zipper in her closet as Kara pretended it didn’t happen before immediately admitting to it the moment Alex had spoken to her about it.

“I’ll do my best,” Kara said. “But I got the zipper fixed, at least.”

Alex kept her mouth shit, biting back a comment about how the new zipper had never been the same since. She had to get someone else to zip it up, or struggle with a mixture of tools and yoga positions to zip it up. For all that effort, she just bought a new dress instead.

And then promptly had ripped that at Barry and Iris’ wedding.

God, she didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t have time to think about that or anyone related to that wedding party.

“Alright,” she said, giving her sister a quick hug. “Thank you. I will see you in two weeks. J’onn will keep you up to date.”

“Wait, you’re going on radio silence?” Kara asked.

Alex pulled back and pressed her lips shut, even though Lena was doing a very good job at pretending to be interested in talking to James about the upcoming launch. “It’s important,” was all she said. “I’ll explain it to you when I get back.”

“Okay,” Kara agreed, the double syllable coming out tight with a scrunch of Kara’s brow. “But the moment you get back, you come and visit me.”

“Sure thing Mum,” Alex teased, giving her sister another hug. She gave James and Lena a briefer goodbye, before heading back over to Winn’s apartment.

His apartment was two suburbs over, in a good area, nicer than the one Alex was in. There, Winn was ready with his big, navy blue suitcase as if they were planning a holiday.

“Got enough things?” she asked.

“Yep, everything I’ll need,” he nodded, perhaps unaware of the sarcasm in her voice. “Is that all you’re taking?” he asked, looking at her bag. It was a decent size bag that she had slung over her shoulder. Inside of it were the clothes and toiletries she’d need for a mission that she wouldn’t be able to get upstate. All of her weapons and the few other things she might need were all packed away in the car that J’onn was bringing over. She reiterated as much to Winn who then asked if she’d brought any materials like books or magazine to read while they’d be driving, as he had brought an audiobook for the car.

Alex gave him a strange look, but before she could explain that there was no way she would be listening to his audiobook, J’onn arrived.

“Here,” he said, handing over the keys to Alex with two burner phones, and two sets of wallets that contained enough cash, as well as an emergency-only credit card, to keep them out of trouble. It was a small mission and yet Winn was still amazed at the effort that had to be taken to get them ready.

If Alex was being honest, undercover missions always amazed her.

“Merkel will be calling you around seven o’clock each night with any updates you might need to know. Given the nature of the situation, I would advice against contacting her unless you need to.” Alex nodded.

“Man, I can’t believe we’re going on a mission together. Crazy right?” Winn asked.

Alex gave him a look, finding herself only partially annoyed and somewhat endeared by Winn’s enthusiasm for the situation.

“Look after him,” J’onn said and Alex smiled as Winn began to protest that he would be fine, before slowly admitting that given previous circumstances, he wasn’t entirely against having Alex there.

With no more than a single nod and a short goodbye, Alex and Winn went to the SUV and placed their bags away before getting into the car, Alex moved behind the wheel, with Winn calling ‘DJ’ as they headed out of National City, towards the North. It was to be a long trip –– two-day trip, not including stops –– to get to where they needed to be.

“We should get a motel in Haven’s Point,” Winn said as he looked through the paper map, despite the car’s GPS system that Alex use to key in the destination.

“We’ll just sleep in the car,” Alex said. “It’ll be faster.”

“That’s a lot of driving, Alex. Don’t you want to stop and shower, sleep in a bed to just break it up.”

“We’ll do that when we arrive. We need to get there before the CIA and DEO get into position.”

“We already know when and where there going to be, and J’onn already told us everything he knew.”

Alex kept quiet, her mouth a thin line. She had a gut instinct that this mission was going to go south for the DEO. It wasn’t a kept secret that the only reason the CIA had decided to work with them this time was because they knew that the DEO’s field agents had a more intricate understanding of alien languages than they could. With Kara often being the modern-day rosetta stone, they were able to be leagues beyond the CIA in terms of code breaking extraterrestrial information. It left the department, who had previously considered themselves the leading experts in xenology, appearing partially incompetent.

Not to mention that the DEO was the reason that they knew where the auction was happening in the first place. It would make sense that the CIA may be resentful for needing to work with them. Still, it seemed ridiculous to risk the partnership because of their pride.

“Can you go over exactly what you heard on the chatter?”

“Again?” Winn asked. “Haven’t you heard it a hundred times?”

“Again,” she said.

With a sigh, Winn repeated the conversation again, verbatim, if with an unnecessary pizzaz in the voice. It was the same thing, over and over. Alex had listened to the recorded conversation herself, and had drawn the same conclusion that Winn had. The CIA were planning to double cross them and, that there was something unsaid. Something important that they were missing, though there seemed to be no additional clues in the speech that she could decipher.

As they travelled deep into the night, Alex mind wound over and over the conversation, trying to remember the exact words and tone used by the agents. There had to be something there to uncover. Some puzzle piece that would bring it all together.

She knew the mechanics of how Winn had caught the chatter, but were the CIA that easy to slip up. One wrong conversation held over one wrong radio chatter? It seemed far too simple — and yet, Alex of all people knew that agencies had been caught over less.

Drawing out an exhale, she drummed her fingers across the steering wheel and found her mind replaying the conversation again, anyway, Beside her, Winn had fallen asleep. When Alex had refused to listen to his audiobook, he’d placed his headphones on and drifted on to sleep listening to some podcast. This had of course been after he had first nattered about car games and then nagged her about finding a motel, but eventually had given up on both points. Maybe, in a few hundred more miles, Alex would think about pulling the car over and folding the backseats down. Maybe.

They could still get plenty of sleep by taking turns driving.

The first switch happened after they stopped to fill up the car. They were seven hours closer to the destination and over halfway through the night. As she paid for gas, she bought Winn an energy drink and a packet of chips. They’d be a good way away from a decent meal for a while and she didn’t trust roadside hot food after the time she got food poisoning when she’d been sixteen.

“Do you mind if I…?” he asked, pointing to the auxiliary chord.

Alex nodded, allowing him to finally, plug in his device and continue his audiobook. With her own pillow, Alex curled up in the seat and closed her eyes as the cottonwool of her thoughts became nothing more than a soft buzz.

She opened her eyes to the Waverider, but it wasn’t within Sara’s room. Rather, she found herself in the strange circular room that looked to have been stolen from a museum exhibition. Bits and pieces scattered among cabinets and walls. Knick-knacks were placed randomly over a large table that laid in the middle of the room, on display but in no sensical order. Behind the table, in a tall, cushioned chair, Sara’s head lifted, eyes pulling open before she began to push out of the chair with no apparent strained muscles or awkwardness.

“Doesn’t look like a comfortable place to sleep,” Alex said.

‘I’m only napping,” Sara shrugged. “Things to see, people to do and all that.”

Alex nodded, looking around the space at all the objects taken from time, the maps and paintings that spoke of another era. It didn’t feel like a space created by Sara, but rather one that had been collected and held by someone who had been trying to hold onto mementoes from their travels.

“Alex,” Sara’s voice pulled. “Look, about the other night.”

Alex froze at the very mention of the previous embarrassment. She’d been doing a very good job over the last day in pretending it hadn’t happened. “It’s okay,” she said, looking to face Sara. “I made a mistake. I misread ––“

“You didn’t misread anything.”

Alex paused, waiting then for what was probably going to be a it’s not you, it’s me conversation that she’d rather not have at all.

“It’s because I’m seeing someone,” Sara said, laying it out. “I know that this might just be some dumb dream, but at the same time, I think we both know that there’s something more to it than just that, no matter what Gideon says.”

Alex swallowed in the pause while Sara waited for her response. The woman looked somewhere between defensive and struggling to be open. Her lips were pursed and there was tension around her eyes, but Alex could see in her posture that she was trying to be fair to her.

“So you’re seeing someone else,” Alex prompted, “and…” That would mean you were cheating on them, she omitted. “How recent is it?”

“After the cabin, but before the other night.” Sara explained, looking away. “It’s recent-recent, and we haven’t spoken about… but I don’t want to screw it up. And…” she trailed off and met Alex’s eyes. “I mean, it wasn’t fair to you either. You deserved to know about Ava.”

“Ava,” Alex echoed aloud, before adding, “Well, she-she sounds nice. I mean, she must be…special, to…” and then Alex trailed off, feeling the hand she used to emphasis special with fall flat by her side. “I’m glad you found someone,” she finished off.

“Thank…you?” Sara questioned with a strange look and a laugh.

It was a laughable thing, and Alex knew that Sara was teasing her but all she could manage in return was a weak smile. Her heart gave a squeeze. It didn’t feel like a standard rejection, not really, it felt…like when she was in college and she found out her study group had a regular Thursday night at the bar that she’d never been invited to. A part of her felt angry and wanted to immediately dislike whoever Ava was, but Alex was old enough to know that that wasn’t fair to whomever the woman was, and Sara was only trying to reduce the amount of hurt and pain between them all. But the anger didn’t hush inside of her, no matter the reason in her thoughts.

“Did you tell her about me?” Alex asked.

“Yes and no,” Sara said. “Not about the dreams.”

“But about the wedding,” Alex nodded, feeling the anger creep into her voice, before she pushed it down. It wasn’t like she’d been telling anyone about her dreams. “What did you mean before, when you said ‘despite what Gideon says’?”

Sara blinked, before folding her arms against her chest. “Gideon can monitor our dreams. She’s a bit of a voyeur sometimes. Anyway, after the first two nights I asked if she could monitor my dreams, but, of course, I was stranded in time for a few days, so that didn’t work out. When I finally did come back, Gideon said that she couldn’t see any evidence of the dreams I spoke of. The dreams with you.”

“The ones where you came to my apartment?”

Sara nodded. “Don’t exist, apparently. Which makes me think I’m crazy, however, Gideon pointed out that I’ve been having some other dreams that make more sense than this, whatever this is but I don’t recall having them. So, unless…”

“Something else is going on. Such as you’re brain is still showing signs of activity, but a part of you is…here.”

“Bingo.”

“Otherwise, this doesn’t exist.” Alex paused, chewing over the idea to work out what could cause that. For the body to still be there, while the mind wandered. It made little sense. “Do you really think that…in some way you’re still dreaming, but a part of you is astral projecting across another universe?”

Sara shrugged. “It’s not a completely crazy idea.”

“None of that makes sense,” Alex pointed out. “None of this makes sense anyway.”

“Look, astral projection is honestly the least of my worries at this point,” Sara shrugged, tossing her a quick smile. There were a hundred different points in science that Alex wanted to pull out as examples in how astral projection couldn’t be an option, but Sara’s eased smile, the way she looked as if none of that really mattered, was a seductive way of thought.

Alex frowned. “This is real, isn’t it? In some way, it has to be…real.”

“I guess it depends on your definition of real.” Sara tried, and then shook her head. “I don’t know, I don’t know if you are real and I have no way of proving it if I want to so I’ll just take it at face value at this point until we can work out a reason why it isn’t.”

“We could always…visit each other. Somewhere?” Alex suggested.

“You come to my universe and I drag my team to meet you?” Sara asked. “Look, I want this to be real, it’ll make things a lot less complicated if it is,” before she added, “or more complicated. But I can’t drag my team away from what we’re doing at the moment, it’s too big.”

Sara hadn’t intended to be rude, Alex knew that, but the blunt way she said it still stung against her pride.

“I wasn’t suggesting that for now,” she said, hearing the defence in her words as loudly as if she had crossed her arms against her chest. “I wouldn’t be able to do anything for the next few weeks anyway. I’m nowhere near Kara or the cross-universe device. I just…look, I’m a scientist first. Something strange happens, apart of me will always want to rationalise it.”

“And if it’s magic?”

“There’s no such thing,” Alex said.

Sara looked taken aback, as if she couldn’t quite read her before she laughed. “You’re kidding right. All this crap and you draw the line at magic?”

“There’s no such thing,” she affirmed. “Look if I take my gun back to ancient civilisation, they’ll think it’s magic for shooting down something from afar, but that’s just because they don’t understand it. Magic is just a word for the unknown, to simply it rather than search for answer.”

“Well, I can’t say much to that,” Sara responded and a quiet fell between them, before she turned away, going over to the corner to pour two glasses of scotch into what looked like a very nice set of crystal glasses.

As the sound of pouring liquid filled the empty space in their conversation became almost unbearable, Sara asked, “so…you’re out of the office, I take it?”

“Recon,” Alex nodded. “So, nothing too exciting yet. Just back-up.”

“Huh. Aliens?”

“Sort of, more…CIA.”

“Oh…kay,” Sara turned around, handing one of the glasses over, before she leant against a table filled with an assortment of maps and star-charts. “Aren’t you guys branched off from the CIA…or Homeland or whatever?”

Alex shoulders eased as the conversation moved to somewhere more comfortable. Emotionally speaking. “No, we’re branched off from the military, directly.”

“I thought you guys were like a CIA, FBI crossover team for outer space.”

Alex gave a short laugh. “It’d be so much easier if we were. The DEO was originally constructed as a secret defence subsection against extraterrestrial life. Our funding was structured around the dependency to prevent alien attacks once the government realised they were taking an interest in Earth. But since the President’s an alien, now, we can focus less on being a military defence force, and more for being sort of like a government agency, protecting Earth and minimising threats before they become bigger problems, solving alien murders. Neutralising terrorist attacks with the use of Alien weapons. All that fun.”

“Like ARGUS.” Sara nodded, though there was a look in her eye as she took a sip of whiskey. “Did I hear you say that the American president is an alien?” She questioned. “People must love that.”

“They don’t know. She’s an American citizen, been here since she was young, it gets iffy around her birth but I liked her more than the other guy, and she does a lot of good.”

She watched Sara nod, it wasn’t quite flabbergasted, but the look was certainly one that had a stunned element to it as she drew the drink to her lips. “Strange,” she whispered against the glass.

“It’s not that strange. J’onn’s an alien too, after-all.”

“He’s your boss, right? Isn’t that like some conflict of interest?”

Yes, definitely, Alex thought. But she shrugged instead. After all, J’onn was the best man for the job, capable of just as much, if not more empathic than Kara with his telepathic ability. And yet, his history of war and the lessons learnt of the cost of complacent in the face of evil made him the most pragmatic choice of Alien Defence.

“So, where are you now, then? On a plane?”

“No, driving. Well, Winn’s driving, I’m clearly not at this moment, otherwise there would be much, much bigger problems at hand.” Despite the terrible attempt at humour, Sara smiled at her. It lit up her whole face and Alex could see as plainly as the freckles on her skin, that Sara Lance thought she was a dork.

“Well, at least you’re getting sleep,” she said.

“For the moment. What about you, this can’t be a good place to sleep.”

Sara shook her head, a small laugh at something. In response Alex took a sip of her own whiskey and looked around the room again, eyeing the memorabilia to find a new start to the suddenly dropped conversation. It definitely wasn’t at all awkward as it happened for the second time in what seemed to be as many minutes. And Alex definitely wasn’t tossing between if she should she wake up or if should she say something about the previously mentioned partner –– Ava –– or was that weird?

It was probably weird. Maybe she should…

“Have you ever met anyone else here, in this…plane of existence?” Sara asked.

“No, have you?”

“Not here. These dreams seemed to be centred entirely on meeting you,” Sara said, using her index finger to point at Alex, flirtation lilting her voice. “But who knows. You could be Mallus all along. Which would have been…weird considering the other night. But what isn’t weird in my life at the moment.”

“Who’s Mallus?”

Sara scrunched up her nose. “Just some big bad,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Legends are on it.” Alex found herself letting out short exhale as she came face-to-face with a classic trademarked Sara smile. “Then maybe we can find some moment to meet up.”

Unrelenting, she thought to herself, and yet she felt that Sara knew how to speak without some sardonic charm or flirt. It was almost like a brittle facade from something else it wasn’t an insecurity but a defence, nonetheless.

“Are you analysing me?”

“Always.”

“Well…don’t.”

“Well don’t you do it either,” Alex retorted with as much maturity as Sara had.

“Fine, I’ll just take my psychoanalysing back to the nap I was happening.”

Alex blinked, and then without a beat asked, “Is Mallus the reason you’re sleeping in a chair and not in the comfort of your bed?”

Sara sobered as she answered, “Partially. Didn’t really mean to be sleeping. I was working,” Sara said, gesturing to what Alex had been taken as general clutter, to be an assortment of books and highlighted notes. Bending over the table to flick through the information Alex noted the different groups of handwritings, probably from the research-orientated members of the team. There was scrawled handwriting in black ink, a tidy block writing in blue and red, and one she took to be, due to the violet pen being used to make coded shorthand, to be Sara’s. The shorthand had probably been out of habit, the code its self was intentional.

“You should get sleep, in a real bed while it’s nearby,” she said, looking up from the notes.

“Thanks Mum, but I’ve slept rough before. And not just because I slept in a mountain,” Sara pointed out before Alex could say it.

“No, you used to go camping,” she drolly responded.

Sara’s jaw dropped with a soft gasp as she shook her head. Despite the scowl on her lips, Alex could see Sara’s eyes sparkling as she said, “Wow. I won’t share anything with you if you keep saying it back to me in that tone.”

“What tone?” Alex asked with mock-surprise. “I’m just stating facts as they were laid out to me before.”

“Mmhmm, sure. I am a former assassin I’ll have you know. One who doesn’t like to be mocked by cross-universe travellers.”

“And I’m an agent of the DEO,” Alex responded. “Trained in interrogation as well as defensive manoeuvres against would-be assassins.”

Sara’s mouth was attempting to remain a straight line but quirked in amusement giving a soft flicker to Alex’s belly before that twisted like a sudden knife had struck her.

The flirtation and joking was fun, fun enough that Alex found her heart beating hard as she looked at Sara and remembered that she had a girlfriend. That she wasn’t available. That Sara and her now had to share dreamscape and pretend that it wasn’t at least a little bit awkward that they had been an almost, a once-was.

She also had to remember that Sara wasn’t real.

Something must have visibly shown across her face as the amusement in Sara’s face died away, giving to a soft frown as she began fiddling with her drink whilst leaning against the table in the centre of the room that had a mess of maps, her eyes moving to look anyway but at Alex. Perhaps she realised too.

“So recon?” Sara asked to shuffle the conversation along.

“Mhmm,” Alex responded. “Got the big guns.”

“Is that so? Bet they couldn’t beat Cisco’s brain-child weapons.”

Alex gave a false head nod. “I don’t know, it is Alien technology. Cisco’s good, but he’s not a thousand years ahead of us in science, Alien-tech good. Even Winn is impressed.”

“I don’t know Winn well enough to know what that means, but I feel like alien technology is definitely cheating.”

“Well, I’ve always cheated at cards, so…”

“Now that is evil. The very sanctity of cards…” and then Sara smiled at her and Alex though, maybe…maybe this could be real, and they could be friends. She could forget about the other night, forget about the kisses and the wedding night and the way Sara’s hands ran over her skin and how Alex hadn’t thought about Maggie in so long.

She could forget all of that, and just smile and enjoy this moment.

Because it was enough.

Maybe, it could be enough.

#alex danvers #sara lance #supergirl fanfic #legends of tomorrow fanfic #supergirl #legends of tomorrow #morgans fics

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thatsmybluefondue · 6 years

Text

Autumn Leaves

~~~

“I prefer to leave the paintings to speak for themselves.” –Barnett Newman

~~~

I’m a normal kid. Really, I am.

A young, teenage adolescent, with a slight attitude problem and an awkward body and the feeling of superiority that doesn’t really exist.

But, I’m comfortable with myself. And my simple life.

Except it’s not as simple anymore. See, my mom already lost her job a year ago, and so then we had the whole issue of not spending as much. It was fine, though: I still got to live my life normally, with all my friends and such. We could live, albeit not as luxuriously, with only my dad’s income.

But then my dad lost his job. Our only source of money was suddenly ripped from us, all because of the economy and unemployment and all that nice (cough—awful—cough) stuff.

To make the long story short: Mom had been searching for a job for the past year but couldn’t find one, and then my dad got cut; so, basically, we were screwed.

Things went downhill from there.

We started selling off our possessions at garage sells to earn a bit more cash—for what, I had no idea, but Mom and Dad kept on saying it was for a reason. The little things, like cable TV and magazine subscriptions, were taken away. Our showers were given a time limit—ten minutes max, and that was pushing it—and any and all unneeded lights were always turned off.

But I was fine, really. My friends were a big help, always being supportive, and neighbors would drop off meals once a week, sometimes more.

Besides, Dad did get one of those unemployed paychecks. It wasn’t as much as when he had a job, but it kept us sustained.

I was happy, carefree, really—had no idea what was going on, didn’t care either. No responsibilities, because, for some strange reason, my parents were encouraging me to spend time with my friends and not get a job dog-sitting or mowing yards. So I was free as a bird.

And then came in the boxes. Not filled-with-something boxes that every kid gets excited over because that means something’s inside, but flat boxes. Moving boxes.

Suddenly my freedom seemed like a cruel trick, as if I were a dog let loose in the fenceless yard, only to find out it was indeed caged in after a sharp jolt of electricity. As if I were a bird held captive in a glass cage.

“We’re moving?” I asked incredulously, gawking at the stacks of folded boxes all lying about the living room. “When was this decision made? Why didn’t I know?”

Mom, who had been leaning over a box, peering into its few contents, sighed. “We started thinking about it last year when I lost my job, and then when your father lost his, well, it became official.” She shuffled over to the couch, staring at it as if deciding if it could go or not.

Gulping and feeling ridiculously childish, I asked, “When?” My hands were clenched into tight fists by my side, shaking, from anger, I liked to say. Not fear or worry. Fourteen was not an age to be scared of little things, although moving isn’t so little.

Mom sighed again, a long, weary thing, like there were boulders stacked on top of her, weighing her down, forcing the air out of her lungs little by little. “As soon as your school year ends,” she answered. Then Mom went back to packing, ignoring me in a way that was purely Mom, and I left to go get answers from Dad.

He was in my parents’ bedroom, packing as well, though he looked more distracted and frazzled, which I thought was strange because my mom was normally the stressed one in our small family. Then there was me—the one person in our small family that never seemed to know what was going on, even if I was old enough to understand.

There was a cluster of boxes in the far corner, filled with extra clothes and random things that I had never noticed before they were so blaringly missing. I felt odd, like maybe I should be packing, too; or being packed, since I had no idea what to do and was useless. An object kept around because I was interesting, because I could humor my parents on occasion.

I must have been standing there in the room for a long while, because my dad noticed me and said, “Hey, Max. What’s up, kiddo?” Staring curiously at me, Dad stopped packing and shifting through his clothes. “You okay?”

He sounded nervous, which I thought was stupid. I mean, why would your son be upset? It’s not like you made a huge decision without even telling him or something. But I understood; I really did. We had to move, because there was no work, and as for not telling me—well, my parents wanted me to stay happy as long as possible.

Ignorance is bliss, right?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied, nudging some folded, empty boxes by my feet. “It’s just sudden, I guess. Didn’t see it coming, even though I should have.”

Dad nodded, like he understood, although he didn’t. We both knew that. “It’s okay, kiddo. We’ll be fine.” He smiled then, though it seemed strained, like Mom. The smile was supposed to comfort me, I knew, but it really didn’t do anything, except maybe make me a bit more worried for the move.

We were silent for a while, Dad so-called packing as I stared at the ground, both of us nervous and jittery and not knowing what to say, what to do. It was awkward, to say the least. Dad and I were always awkward like this, because while Dad was talk and talk and talk, the same way as mom, I was more reserved. No one knew where I got it, but I was.

Finally, Dad couldn’t take it and blurted, “We’re moving to your Aunt Darline’s.”

“My Aunt Darline?” I asked, eyebrows scrunched together in thought. Nope. Didn’t know her.

Shifting from foot to foot, Dad rearranged and fluffed one of the many pillows on the bed. “Your aunt,” he said.

I snorted at this, because, duh.

A flash of a grin lit up his face. “She’s your great aunt, actually. Your mom’s aunt. She lives in Florida.”

Florida. That… was a long ways away. Especially from Nevada.

Dad grimaced, and this time I knew he could sense what I was feeling and understood.

Because he was moving to the other side of the country, too.

I left after that, because, really, did I need to know anything else?

~~~

ALL

~~~

Time went by too fast.

Seconds ticked by. They turned into minutes, which then spun around to hours. Those hours made days, and those days turned into weeks. Weeks counted months.

And then my family was packing up the car, neighbors and friends crying out on the sidewalk, all waiting for the Limbering family to disappear from their lives. I don’t know why they were crying, because we were only one family and it wasn’t like their lives were about to be flipped upside down. We weren’t the world. Their entire existence did not rely on us. No, it was only the Limbering family; only me.

I should have been crying, sobbing even, because I was losing my old life and everything was spinning wildly out of control. But I didn’t. I was the only dry-eyed person there was, although I wasn’t happy by any means. I did not crack a smile when my dad made a joke or Kyle promised to run across the country to tell me when he finally got a girlfriend, and that I should, too; I was numb inside, completely dead.

Maybe it’s all a dream, I kept telling myself.

But then we were in the car, hours running across the clock, and we were in a motel for a night. Then we did it again. And again.

Nightmares don’t happen this way, not in this horrible cycle of repeat.

The numbness crept away, and I ended up crying in my mom’s shirt that night, when it finally hit me that I had absolutely no control over anything, that everything was going to be different, that we were really leaving, that we had already left. When we were a day’s drive away from Florida, from Great Aunt Darline. When we were four days away from my old life.

After I stopped sniffling, Mom wiped my face like she used to when I was a baby, and then she began telling me how things were going to happen so I would understand, like she was finally noticing that I was growing up. It was almost contradicting, how on one hand Mom was babying me and on the other was treating me like an adult, but I went with it.

And then the next day, we drove again.

~~~

THE

~~~

Aunt Darline’s house was older than she was, and that’s saying something.

I would say the house was in the middle of nowhere, except that it wasn’t, because it had some neighbors, just farther away than most places. But it was strangely isolated, standing alone, apart from all of the other newer, smaller homes—almost as if it had been alienated, and no one sought to befriend it.

Most likely it had to do with Aunt Darline, though. She wasn’t exactly crazy—at least, she wasn’t the type to go running out the door, swinging her cane and screaming at people to get away. No, Aunt Darline was calm, a bit too calm, to be honest. She was probably the most boring person to ever inhabit the earth. Every morning, she would hobble to this chair by a painting, and then she would sit there, staring at it, all day long. Every day she did this, picking one of the many paintings that lined her walls up the staircase (actually, there were two staircases that started separately and then met at the second floor) or one that was hanging on the wall on the second floor.

She would leave me to my own devices, which is great to most teens, but since there were no other kids on the street and I was supposed to stay in the house, there wasn’t much for me to do. In all honesty, I was bored. My parents were gone all day so I was left with only Aunt Darline, but because she wouldn’t talk to me I was left doing absolutely nothing.

Well, I could always join her in the everlasting task of staring blankly at pictures, but I would probably fall asleep and end up tumbling down the stairs to a death that would star on “A 1,000 Ways to Die.”

And, strangely enough, I planned on living a long, prosperous life, so that didn’t sit well with me.

(Aunt Darline never did fit in that picture.)

~~~

LEAVES

~~~

I finally asked Aunt Darline what was so special about the pictures that lined her walls.

Eyes roving over a plain painting dominated by a single tree, leaves vibrant shades of red and orange and yellow, she told me, “This is my favorite.”

I didn’t see the appeal. It was a simple painting: an ancient tree not directly in the middle but slightly to the right, leaves blotches of multiple colors hanging by a thread on the thick brown branches, the ground littered with the fallen leaves so much that they showed not a centimeter of actual ground, the sky one of a rising sun. Most of it was orange, a color that I didn’t much appreciate.

“That’s not an answer,” I pointed out.

She turned to me, eyes slower at taking the path; they were trapped on the painting, like it meant something to her, and then they were glued to me. “You don’t like it, do you?”

“Not particularly,” I answered truthfully, slightly ticked that she was avoiding the question. “I don’t like orange that much.”

Aunt Darline pursed her thin lips, twirling a strand of her long gray hair around a frail finger. “Orange is my favorite color.”

“It’s not mine,” I replied quickly, “and although the painting is very nice”—I cringed at my own obvious lie—“I would like you to answer my original question, please.”

Please, so I can leave, I begged internally. Why did I ever think it was a good idea to ask Aunt Darline about the paintings?

Her brows furrowed over her eyes—a piercing gray that spoke volumes about what she thought of my impatience—as she stole a glance at the painting. “It’s titled Autumn Leaves. Fitting, is it not?”

“Yes, very—”

“Wouldn’t you love to jump in?” The words flowed from her lips smoothly, as if she had said it a million times before. The answer was simple, an easy yes or no.

I didn’t know what to say. “Oh, um. In the painting? Well, erm, I don’t know. I never—I never thought about it before.”

Aunt Darline giggled, a soft, gentle sound, dainty, even; something that betrayed her age and made her seems decades younger. “I had in mind the leaves, but, yes, you could say the painting itself.”

“I don’t know,” I repeated, eyes now locked on the painting.

“Oh, hush,” Aunt Darline admonished. “Think about it.” She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. “The sun in rising and the air is crisp. A nearby tree is dropping brittle leaves onto the covered ground. There’s a pile already there, the biggest one you have ever seen before.” Smiling, she asked once more, “Wouldn’t you love to jump in?”

Our gazes connected as she asked her question.

I thought about it carefully. Having lived in Nevada, I had never actually seen a large pile of leaves; never had to opportunity to leap into one. I had seen it on TVs and read stories where people had, though, but I had never wondered what it would feel like, never truly imagined doing such a thing. “I think it would be fun,” I finally said.

Aunt Darline smiled, a simple quirk of her lips, and went back to staring at Autumn Leaves. Her hand grazed over the surface, like she was trying to feel the cold air and rough bark and crackling leaves.

As I left, my hand, of its own accord, touched the painting, and I swear I could feel just that—the millions of leaves and brittle air, the bark of the single ancient tree—as if I could jump into the picture itself. As if I could push my way through the surface and disappear into another world.

Aunt Darline seemed to think so, too.

~~~

FALL

~~~

It was absurd. Crazy. Utterly insane.

And I wished so much for it to be true.

It was like a dream, a story, where fantastical things happen, where I could be the hero. I would go on an adventure, do something incredible, impossible. Everything would be right in the world after I had saved everyone.

But that would never happen to me, because I’m normal. A normal fourteen year-old kid. Your everyday, average snotty teenager.

I’m not anything special. I’m not some sort of miracle.

Then Aunt Darline repeated, “Please, Max, do this for me,” and I broke down and decided to humor the delusional woman. She was crazier than I previously gave her credit for, thinking that Cara, her best friend, was somewhere inside; my guess was that Cara wasn’t even a real person, just a figment of old Aunt Darline’s imagination.

I walked up to the painting Alone, which was hanging to the right of Autumn Leaves. It portrayed a dark opening—like a bomb had gone off, leaving only a circular dent in the earth, the grass dead and the color of pitch—in the middle of the woods, where the trees were mere twigs barely distinguishable from the background; a lone, ancient swing creaked from the bare arm of one of the many naked trees. Everything was shrouded by black, shadows thrown across the ground and the moon’s light hidden by the thick layers of trees. Apparently, on the wooden swing was supposed to be a girl, Cara, who was in mourning.

“The only bright thing in the entire picture was her hair,” Aunt Darline had said. “Blonde as the sun, she is.” Her gray eyes were foggy, wistful of a past that never existed.

I needed to call the loony bin on her.

Instead of doing that, though, like any logical person would have, I stepped closer to Alone, pressing my hand against its surface, which was strangely cool to the touch, like a brisk wind in the dead of night.

She’s crazy, I thought.

I pressed harder, felt more something that was most definitely not the texture of paint against canvas.

I’m crazy.

And then I, Max Racer Limbering, fell through the painting, fell into Alone.

~~~

DOWN

~~~

I was blind as I stumbled my way through the woods, branches slashing my legs and arms and face, my grasping hands and unseeing eyes.

Dark was an understatement in this situation, pitch black was nearer to what was needed to describe the black blanket that covered the earth, but devoid of any light whatsoever won the prize.

I tripped over twisting roots, which grabbed at my bumbling, uncoordinated feet and tried to pull me down. Things—what looked to be crawling branches—appeared and tugged at my legs with their extended arms. I was cut, sliced by pointed whips; thin trickles of blood were slipping down my arms and cheek. My shoulder grazed rough bark, scraping away a thin layer of skin, but I could barely tell because I just wanted to get out, get out, get out!

And then I raced headfirst into a wall.

Well, hit wasn’t exactly the right word, was it? No, it was more like I had run into a large glowing rubber ball or bubble, one that was strong enough not to pop and instead bounce me back hard enough to land on my a— bottom (which is a nicer word to use). When I landed, pain arched up my spine, knives scraping along the bones. I yelped loudly—and, by yelp, I most definitely do not mean squeak, because, as a young man, I do not squeak; only small rodents and girls squeak. The breath was knocked out of me, leaving my lungs empty, my mouth uselessly gasping for air.

After the initial shock, bones creaking, I eased myself up, rubbing my sore bottom and tingling thighs, my numbing back. The things were still lingering in the background, I could tell. Their short bodies, which were made from two medium-sized branches twisted together, darted among the trees like crabs, clawed feet digging into the earth, razor-sharp hands reaching out. Golden eyes glinted from the faint glowing of the—well, I still wasn’t quite sure what they were.

Hoping for something, I prodded the bubble with my foot, the toe of my shoe sinking in before I yanked it back out. It looked like a wall, but made of translucent glass, making whatever was on the other side blurry, the colors of blues and silvers and blacks swirling around unnaturally. The glass wall towered over me, stretching up and up and up passed what I could see, and its width was much the same.

Unfortunately, I figured I would have to step through. Either that, or be ripped to shreds by the little crabby monsters.

And so I did.

I forced myself through, and then I ended up in a world completely and utterly different, this one with a beach and crashing waves, a moon hovering over the horizon. Another one of Aunt Darline’s pictures, the one directly to the right of Alone.

Apparently, I was heading in the wrong direction.

But I couldn’t find the great big glass wall, for it had somehow disappeared, and so I continued on, searching for another exit (or entrance, depending on how one looked at it). When I found it—another glass wall, the colors brown and green and yellow—I passed though, and then I went on looking for the next one, and the next, and the next.

Until I landed in one that sent me reeling.

It wasn’t that it was horrible or anything; in fact, it was completely normal—for a painting, at least. But it still totally threw me off my groove, which, frankly, pissed me off, just a bit.

Because this painting had people.

Couples huddled together on rocking gondolas, oarsmen singing in Italian as they rowed down the canal. Families bustled over bridges and waved from open windows. Children dared their friends to dip a toe into the water, or more; some even spat into the water as they walked by. It was all so chaotic, so full of life. So completely opposite of all the other pictures I had passed through.

It was a little overwhelming.

I almost expected someone to walk over, ask me what I was doing, and then somehow shove me out of this universe entirely. All the while screaming at me in Italian. That would do me in for sure, and I’d probably end up having a heart attack and die, alone, except for the strangers that weren’t really real. I wondered if anyone outside of the painting, studying the art or whatever, would notice me.

Probably not, considering how Aunt Darline always studied them yet never found hide nor hair of Cara.

Fortunately, no one paid me any attention, so I wasn’t about to die of cardiac arrest at the ripe old age of fourteen.

Not that it mattered much anyway, because, unless I wanted to take my chance in the labyrinth of Venice, I was pretty much stuck, trapped on a dock outside of some completely random building. With some random blonde chick wearing all black at the end, sitting at some random little table.

I shrugged to myself, figuring, What the hey. She sounded like my best bet to finding my way out, and I just hoped that she didn’t turn out to be some crazy monster that I had to somehow kill, because, yeah, my killing experience is none, unless videogames count. If that’s the case, I’m a pro. Sort of.

Slightly hesitant, I shuffled my way over to the random blonde chick, who was chatting amiably with—at? to?—a worn teddy bear sitting in the seat next to her and sipping tea. Overall, she wasn’t giving me the best first impression, what with the air of gloom and doom from the black she wore from head to toe and the crazy that emanated from her in cuckoo waves. But her hair glowed like the sun, a bright beacon in this strange foreign place, so I pushed forward.

I’ll admit, the girl was pretty—easy on the eyes, if you will—and as I got closer a strange feeling that I should know this girl prodded at the back of my mind. Black clothes, blonde hair—where was that from? But nothing came, and, besides, I could not possibly know her, because she’s in a picture hanging on the wall of my Aunt Darline’s house. Where could we have possibly met? Excuse me—when?

The black she wore was a dress, something I could imagine a girl wore to a funeral, and long black stockings were stretched up her legs—no shoes, though, which I found… different; her long curly locks were pulled back in a brown wooden clip with an intricate design carved into it. Really, if she wasn’t having an amiable conversation with a teddy bear—and if she were real—the girl could have passed off for normal.

But I guess nothing about this could ever be considered normal, huh?

I gently prodded her in the back. “Excuse me, but—” But what? Help me get out of this painting because I’m a real person and you’re not? Maybe I didn’t think this through well enough. Or at all.

Before I could come up with an excuse—or, better yet, escape—the girl gripped my wrist and yanked me down to sit next to her. Turning to face me, but never looking me directly in the face, she babbled, “Mr. Fuzzles here was just telling me about Spit—you know him, right? He’s the best spitter in all of Venice—and his latest challenge is the hardest one yet.” She asked Mr. Fuzzles, the ratty old teddy bear, “How far did he have to spit again, Mr. Fuzzles?” She nodded, satisfied with his—its—answer. “Over two meters, Spit has to spit. Can you believe that?” She laughed, throwing her head back, and, wow, she shouldn’t look this pretty and be this crazy at the same time. It was unfair, honestly.

She patted my hand, then my stunned face on the cheek. Placing a cup of tea in front of me, she continued, “Now, where are you from, hm? I’ve never seen you around, not that this is my picture, but mine is so lonely. It’s only me, you see. That’s why it’s called Alone.”

“I’m not from any painting,” I blurted out, but then something caught up to me. “Wait—Alone? You’re Cara?”

The girl—Cara—looked shocked. “Why, yes, I am Cara, but then where are you from?” She squinted her eyes to narrow slits and pointed suspiciously.

I took in a deep breath, told her one word: “Darline.”

~~~

AND

~~~

Cara dragged me through the maze of Venice, leading the way to the next painting, Autumn Leaves.

“We used to go there all the time,” Cara had told me. “Before… before she couldn’t come through.” She murmured to herself, “Seventy years. Over seventy years.”

From what I could gather, Cara had not even been aware that Aunt Darline couldn’t cross over anymore; she had, sadly, assumed that my aunt no longer wanted to see her estranged friend anymore. Never aging and time practically nonexistent, Cara had gone through the years not once attempting to contact Darline, thinking that, if my aunt were to come back, she merely needed time. While to my Aunt Darline, the years had stretched and aged and changed her, Cara remained much the same, unchanged, forever waiting without knowing when forever had come to pass.

Suddenly, Cara stopped, and I bumped into her. “Oh, uh, sorry,” I mumbled, but Cara waved me off, the earlier happy-go-crazy girl gone and turned into someone on a mission—AKA get to Darline ASAP. Which includes one too many acronyms, I think.

“Do you need help?” she asked me.

“Uh, what? To step through? No.” I shook my head, already moving to place a hand onto the orange glass wall.

“Oh,” Cara mumbled. “It’s just that, Darline always needed help, at least a little bit. She could call for me easy enough, but she couldn’t actual pass through on her own.” Sighing heavily, she said, “I should have known that one day she wouldn’t be able to see me, to call for me, even.”

I patted her awkwardly on the back, untaught in the art of comforting, or even talking to, girls. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Let’s just hurry it up, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get going.”

And then we landed in fallen leaves.

Truthfully, just looking at the painting wasn’t enough to truly appreciate Autumn Leaves. The crisp wind brushed my cheeks, the sky glowing vibrant colors with the rising sun, leaves crunching and crackling as I rolled around like a giddy child. It was so… surreal. Just nature in all directions—untouched, pure, with only a single massive tree that let loose dancers in the singing breeze.

Yes, words would never be enough to describe it, and a painting was still far from capturing the true beauty. You had to live it to understand.

And I was one of the few to get that chance.

Above me, Cara smiled softly, glancing at the tree in the distance. “Yes, yes, I know—it’s perfect,” she said gently, pulling me up. “But we have to hurry, right? Maybe… maybe you can come again some other time.”

“Definitely.” I grinned excitedly, trying to take in everything at once. “I most definitely will come again.”

Never mind that this whole experience is downright crazy. Never mind that people might wonder where I disappeared to. Never mind any of the consequences.

Least of all that this might not be real.

But this has to be real, because I could never come up with anything this bizarre.

Besides, how many other people can literally walk into a piece of art?

Cara marched through the dark-colored glass, and I followed, leaving behind the bright orange falling leaves.

~~~

Immediately, the crab-like creatures were upon us.

They reached out with their rough bark claws, scratching at me and Cara as we stepped through the wall. Their beady golden eyes, glinting wickedly, stared us down as they circled like predators stalking prey. It didn’t exactly boost my confidence.

Batting away the arms, Cara suddenly screeched, “Go away! Shoo! Come on, you little beasts, go!” Growling, a sound like wood grinding together harshly, the creatures slinked away into the darkness. Cara huffed agitatedly. “Sorry ’bout that. They usually never bother me, but, then again, they never did like Darline either…”

“What—” My voice, about an octave higher than normal, cracked; I cleared my throat. “What were those things?”

Cara shrugged. “I call them barkers, but enough on that. We’re almost there.” She started forward, and I saw a long gash on her forearm, from elbow to wrist. Noticing my, um, somewhat distressed look, Cara told me, “I’ll paint it better later. Now, come on.”

“Paint it better?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Now hurry up, slowpoke,” Cara called over her shoulder, practically running in the direction of the empty opening, save for the lone swing.

We raced through the woods, Cara leaping over every crawling root, ducking beneath the snatching branches, and dodging the trees like she knew every square inch of the woods (which was highly likely) as I stumbled behind, tripping and falling, hopelessly trying to keep up. When we finally made it to the swing, breathing heavily, Cara dashed forward to what looked like… nothing. No grass or trees or even creepy little barkers. Just… blank space.

And then a hand.

“Hurry up and help me!” Cara shouted, and I darted over to the hand trying to force its way through. “Help me pull her through!” Grasping at the hand, Cara tugged, and I did the same. It seemed useless, like attempting to hold air; but suddenly the hand jerked and there was an arm, and attached to that arm was a shoulder. “Come—on!” Grunting, Cara dug her heels into the ground, pulling with all her might.

Then there was a head. “Cara!” The word came out garbled and unclear, as if Aunt Darline were underwater. “Cara, it isn’t working. I’m—”

The arm slid away, the hand disappearing, taking Cara with it. I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around Cara’s waist at the last second. The top half of Cara had vanished outside, hopefully still holding on to the hand.

And, well, that left me to yank them both back in.

Step by step, I inched my way backwards. Slowly—much too slowly in my body’s and my personal opinion—Cara reappeared, and eventually so did the hand, and then the arm, and the shoulder, the head, a body.

And then, with one final heave, arms shaking from the strain, Aunt Darline popped into Alone.

Gasping for air, I gingerly sat (read: collapsed) on the ground; my body trembled, exhausted, and I seemed to be hallucinating or something ridiculous, because there were two old ladies holding each other tightly in front of me, instead of one Aunt Darline and one Cara. “Hi, Aunt Darline,” I wheezed, “how are you?” A deep inhale of air, because, dang, those two weigh a ton. “Hey…” I blinked, still dazed. “Hey, Aunt Darline, do you know where Cara is?”

One of the two old ladies, the one that I was positive was not Aunt Darline, detached herself and hobbled over. “Here, you silly,” she croaked, and that was when I saw the black dress and long curly hair, though now snowy white instead of blonde.

I shot to my feet, black dots swimming in my vision. My vision blurred as the blood rushed from my head. “Oh, gosh, are you okay? What happened? Oh—”

Cara whacked me on the back of the head. “Quiet, you. It must have happened when I got sucked outside. And don’t worry—I’ll paint myself all better. Maybe even Darline can get a new makeover.”

“Will it work?” I asked anxiously, because, let’s face it: Aunt Darline is old, with more than one foot already in the grave, and now Cara is just as ancient. They were two fossils, just waiting to crumble to ash. Could they die, here, in this place? It was obvious they could be injured, with how Cara had gotten scraped by a barker, so maybe death was not that far of a stretch. It wasn’t a comforting thought, to say the least.

Cara shrugged in reply, which didn’t exactly help, and shuffled back over to Aunt Darline, who was sniffling quietly as she stared in awe at her best friend. They embraced once again, and I stood awkwardly on the sidelines (but close enough to catch one of them if they, say, passed out or fainted or something), digging a hole in the grass with the toe of my shoe. Without warning, Aunt Darline reached out and pulled me into an even more awkward group hug, both ladies softly crying into my chest.

Then Aunt Darline clasped both of her wrinkly hands on my cheeks, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead and whispering, “Thank you, Max. Thank you so much. You have given me my greatest wish. You are a miracle.”

I took a step back, feeling warmth spread throughout my entire body, and was about to reply with something—a simple thank you, possibly, or a you’re welcome—when my hand got stuck, and then I was being pushed out of Alone, out of this wonderful new place I had just experienced. Aunt Darline and Cara both reached out and tried to grab me, but they were too slow.

I was leaving. I was falling.

~~~

I was trapped.

When my parents came home, they rushed over, worriedly asking where I had been, where Aunt Darline was, but I wasn’t paying them any attention. I was trying, trying, trying—fighting—to push my way back into Alone, into Autumn Leaves, into any of them. To go back, because I could, right? I had to go back. I was the boy who could cross over without any help.

But that didn’t seem to be the case anymore.

Tears were streaming down my face by the time the police arrived, as they questioned where I had been, where Aunt Darline was, but I couldn’t answer—and if I could, what would I say?

Later on—was it weeks, months, years? Did we live here now?—someone tried to take away all the artwork, tried to sell it because it was unnecessary and too much for one house, and I screamed and shouted and fought, clutched all the pieces I could, held them close to my heart as I attempted once more to go through, go back inside to another world I had been forced out of against my will. In the end, I was left with one painting missing a blonde little girl and another that no one saw the beauty of because they couldn’t truly experience it.

As time went on, as seconds ticked by and turned into minutes which then spun around to hours, as those hours made days, and as those days turned into weeks which then counted months, and as those months sped through the years, I was left with only those two. But that was okay. It was enough. Almost. My greatest wish was still to go back, like I had assumed I always would.

And whenever someone made a comment on how dark and dreary one of my paintings was, I would tell them that there used to be a blonde girl named Cara, but she left because she wasn’t alone anymore.

And whenever someone made a comment on how bright and simple the other of my paintings—the one that no one could understand the true beauty of because they couldn’t live it—was, I would say, “Orange is my favorite color.”

~~~

I’m an old man. In all honesty, I am.

A hopefully wise old man, with two children and five grandchildren and what looked to be a great-grandchild soon enough, if the way Caroline was acting was anything to go by.

But, I’m content with my life. My very simple life.

If only it hadn’t been so simple. If only I could go back. But it seems I would need help in order to do that, and who knows if Cara and Darline are still alive? It was fine, though: I still got to live my life fully, with all my family and such. We could live, albeit not a life of fantastic adventures and the like.

We lived normally.

And I will end normally.

I sighed, leaning dangerously heavily on the large tree in the painting that hung on my office wall; next to it was a painting with dark trees hiding sly creatures and a single lone swing. I had lived a long life, a fulfilling one, full of love and joy. Now, I was at the end of my time, ready to let go, to pass on.

It was my time to go.

If only I could go back, at least once, before I left.

When I closed my eyes, I could even imagine the brisk wind that brushed my cheeks; the sunlight shining through my closed eyelids, radiant colors dancing in my mind’s eye; and the leaves, dancers that swayed to the music of nature.

In fact, I can almost imagine two gentle sets of hands holding my feeble life as I fall down, down, down, just as the leaves do.

~~~

“A good painting to me has always been like a friend. It keeps me company, comforts, and inspires.” —Hedy Lamarr

~~~

#fiction #art #low fantasy #paranormal #fantasy #story #short story #Sterling Blue #my writing

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constellationseven · 3 years

Text

2021 Reflection

I saw this end of the year meme on the TL (credit to: tina-warriorprincess I believe) and it was a nice reflection to do.

First things first, did you have a good year? No, I can honestly say I didn’t. Instead it may have been one of the worst and hardest yet, though I wouldn’t throw it all away either. It’s funny how something can be so awful yet contain such incredible things as well.

How old did you turn this year? Twenty-four!

Do you feel your age? Yes and no. I don’t and I do. It’s always hard to conceptualize. I usually feel it more towards the end though when I’ve grown attached, then it’s starting all over again.

Did your appearance change in anyway? Not really? I’m not sure. I got a new tattoo though. I cut my hair and now it’s growing again.

Post your favorite selfie. I’ll post em at the bottom of this.

If you traveled, where did you go?

The eastern coast of Florida, San Francisco, Northern California and the coast, Lake Superior and the North Woods, and New York City.

Which fashion trends did you love?

I didn’t really get many opportunities to participate in a lot of fashion this year but I have been very into all the boots and have been wearing a lot of blazers and trousers.

Which fashion trends did you hate? I’m not really a hater of any trends but I suppose I could never really get into certain athletic wears (like the lululemon tops- not even a fan of leggings) nor will I ever want to wear low-rise jeans again.

What was your favorite article of clothing this year? Post a pic if possible? Maybe my black trousers. Wore a lot of black this year. Didn’t get any good outfit pictures though.

What song sums up this year for you? Never let me go - Rachel Portman

What album came out and has been on heavy rotation since then? I’m not one to fixate on particular artists or albums since I listen to music pretty chaotically but honestly... I enjoyed the Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor Swift albums this year for fun.

What was your favorite movie of the year? This is tough.... I’m bad at recall and should really start tracking my movies again.....As for movies that came out this year- I mean Dune was a cool watch. Oooh I just remembered I watched Leon the Professional finally and really enjoyed it.

Did an actor/actress catch your attention for the first time this year? Oh all the time but it’s usually only a momentary thing so again, couldn’t tell ya a name.

Favorite new TV show? Okay.. actually watched a decent amount of shows for once.... anime wise probably Made in Abyss, Monster, and the new Fruits Basket. And for TV in general Haunting of Hill House, Hometown Cha Cha Cha, Mad Men... the list will go on and on..

Which new ship/fandom has taken over a lot of your time, attention, and tears? Haven’t really gotten into any sort of fandom for a long time but Jujutsu Kaisen probably had a bit of a hold on me earlier in the year while I caught up on the manga

What food did you try for the first time? oooh lots, had a lot of Greek food and whole food that was fantastic this summer.

Did you make any big permanent changes this year? Is anything really permanent? Haha. Anyways I hope not because I sure as hell don’t want to be stuck like this.

What was one nice thing you did for someone else? Lots of caretaking for my grandpa this year, and trying to do a lot of unprompted tasks for others. Bought my brother a trip to New York for his Birthday and my mom’s dream French Dutch oven for hers.

What was one nice thing you did for yourself? Indulge.

Did you develop a new obsession? Too many. And none of them healthy probably. Though I am working on starting more creative and productive habits again like journaling or drawing.

Did you vote? I don’t think there was any major voting this year and honestly if there was I’m not sure I’d want to as with the way things keep going it all seems quite redundant these days.

Did you move? God I wish, but no- I mean yeah, kind of. Moved back home from college.

Did you get a job? Yup. It’s remote which is nice- it’s a really great thing actually but it also feels temporary and I’m restless.

Did you get a pet? No, but again I wish!!!

Do you regret not doing anything? God yes, all the time.

Do you regret doing something? GOD yes, all the time. (okay, just kidding. I don’t really regret things so much that it takes up a great deal of time or anything and I’ve made a lot of peace with things as well- but I think the main regrets come for things that are controllable and can still be changed).

Have you done anything that scared you? Oh yeah, I scare myself plenty! It’s been a hard year for many reasons so in a way just about everything I did scared me especially when I was unrecognizable.

Did anyone/thing make you so mad it stayed with you for days? Yes, I’ve felt a seemingly unending anger this year (resulting from what I can only pinpoint as grief?) and it’s been difficult work through these feelings especially as it feels like it has nowhere to go. Then, as a result it spills out into frustrations at everything little thing and every single person. Anything and everything has seemed to annoy me even (and especially) when people are just trying to be kind or thoughtful towards me. Though there were a few instances where being mad was appropriately warranted.

Did you lose anyone close to you? My dad.

Did you fall in love? Momentarily, I may be able to have called it that.

Did you fall out of love? If it was, then yeah maybe.

Did you start a new relationship? Not a defined one.

Did you go through a break up? Nope.

Did you have to cut ties to someone? Not purposely?

Who was important to you this year but wasn’t important last year? I’d like to think anyone who comes into my life and exists in my life is automatically important to me no matter how close I am to them.

Who wasn’t as important to you this year as they were last year? (what are these questions lol- though I guess it’s fair that feelings change??) Again though, I wouldn’t want to hold on to anyone in my life that I thought wasn’t “important”. Even those who aren’t in my life anymore- I wouldn’t go as far as saying they were ever unimportant. You’d have to really be like a sleaze or something lol (though maybe I’m overthinking these questions because of the wording. Okay yeah I’m definitely overthinking these questions).

If you could have a do over on one thing you did, would you take it? Of course. Though I don’t like thinking like that and now would rather just accept everything for how it happened.

What was the best moment of the year for you? Graduating college. Experiencing a summer romance straight from a novel. Going on multiple trips with my brother and trying new things. Great memories with friends.

What was the worst? Receiving and living through some of the most traumatic news of my life.

Did anything happen that you were sure would change you as a person but it really didn’t? I usually expect any new experience to fundamentally change me for some reason, but I don’t think that ever really ends up happening. Especially new milestones I hit this year that didn’t end up changing anything. Though maybe in time, or maybe I just didn’t notice.

Did anything happen to you that you were sure wouldn’t change you as a person but it did? Yeah, to counteract the las question I think I fundamentally changed a lot this year and from things I would never expect. I think becoming a caretaker (temporary but with some lasting effects and changes) in the latter part of the year was something I didn’t expect to affect me so much.

What are you most proud of accomplishing? Being proud is something that’s hard for me, but I can recognize that I graduated and I also came off of medications I’d been on over half my life and while I’m not where I want to be I’m proud of the way I am able to self-regulate now and the way I am able to challenge my limiting beliefs and thoughts. Also at my ability to finally start being vulnerable, no matter how much of a way I have to go, I started.

What have you learned about yourself this year that you didn’t know in the years prior? That I’m not a lost cause. That I can live.

Did your opinion of anyone change for the better? Myself!! And most likely, that’s life.

Did your opinion of anyone change for worse? Yeah, that’s life.

If you make resolutions, did you complete them this year? I can’t remember, but I have my 2020 resolutions near me and I really have in many ways.

If you make resolutions, what will your resolutions be for the coming year? I don’t really believe in “resolutions” since it suggests something so definitive but rather goals or visions for the new year. Not things that have to be absolute or it ends in failure, but instead ideas and things that are motivating and guiding. I’ve been working a lot more on trying to be more organized and learning how to be more clear on what I want.

If you could go on an adventure during the remaining days of the year, where would you go and what would you do? Who would you go this? Girl.... there are no remaining days LOL but my New Years Eve dream for this year would have been going to an orchestra concert with someone special :-) I miss orchestra concerts and there was going to be one NYE and maybe there still is but COVID timing right now... And another dream of mine is to do Hatsumode in Japan. I’ve got a little adventure planned for myself New Years morning though to see the first sunset.

What do you wish for others for the coming year? Peace, Love, Happiness!!!! No but, I truly wish for others to get all of the rest and comfort. It’s been a hard year and everyone deserves to thrive and to receive compassion and fortune.

What do you wish for yourself? To also receive and give all the love. And to be compassionate towards myself and fully embrace all that I am and am given. For anything and everything I dream. For abundance.

cya 2021

#personal #journal #reflection #end of the year #it was fun hehe #me

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facethroughthemirror · 6 years

Text

In The End, We Come Right Back

Chapter Two

They’d seen Maine get back up after taking massive amounts of damage. And every time, he would get up and keep swinging, rush his opponents like an angry bull, shrug off the pain like it was nothing. This was Maine. Hulking, indestructible Maine. Maine with god-tier endurance and an adamantine skull. Maine with the strength of, according to Agent Pennsylvania, about twenty-three bears, give or take a bear or two. Maine, who was both the unstoppable force and the immovable object.

But Maine didn’t get up.

Cross-posted on ao3

"... the Mother of Invention has all kinds of information in the library, right? Not just military and history?"

The older blond glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, setting his coffee down. "... I think so. Why?"

Washington looked down into his cup. He'd already drained it once, and he was almost done with this one again. "... I want to try to learn some sign language. I know a little bit already, I tried to learn when I was a kid, but I want to try to learn a little more. Teach some to Maine while he's recovering. I can teach him to spell, and count to like ten, but after that, not a lot I can do. I think Florida was talking about knowing sign language awhile ago, maybe he can help out a little."

"I think that's a great idea, Wash," North nodded. "And I think Maine will too."

"... I know it won't be any replacement for Maine's voice, but..."

"I think he'll appreciate being able to communicate with someone. It might help him, even though he doesn't say much to start with."

"... maybe not to you guys," Wash mumbled, swirling his hot chocolate. "You just have to know how to understand him. He said... he says plenty to me."

"Well, yeah, you guys are bunkmates. You see more of him than anyone else. You probably have deep conversations about life or punching Wyoming at three in the morning. I mean, South and I do, anyway." North sipped his coffee. He tilted his head to look around Wash, and raised his cup in greeting. "Hey Carolina."

The teal-armored Freelancer made a noise in response to North's greeting as she walked around the table to sit next to him. She unhooked her helmet and removed it, setting it down on the table like the others. She looked tired, the youngest agent noticed. Clearly, the older blond noticed as well, as he immediately got up and wandered away, only to return with two more cups.

"So boss, anything to report?" North asked, handing a coffee to Carolina and another hot chocolate to Wash. "The Director debrief you yet?"

"Yes. He's talked to me, you, York, and CT." Carolina took an inhumanly-long drink from her cup before putting it down and folding her hands. "... Wyoming's awake. He'll be in Recovery for a few days getting the blood pumped back into him, but he'll be fine. York's got some pretty bad whiplash that they're checking out now. CT has a few cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay."

"What about Maine?" Wash asked instantly, thoughts beginning to turn back toward panic when he realized that Carolina hadn't mentioned him. And that there was probably a reason for it.

Carolina looked at him, and he withered a little under the burning of those green eyes, turning his own gaze down and away as he put his cup down and twisted his hands together in his lap. However, after a moment, the squad leader did answer his question.

"... Maine was shot ten times, nine at point-blank range, and kept fighting. He lost a lot of blood. Not to mention, he was tossed off a truck at high speed, bounced across several lanes of traffic, before getting hit by a bus and knocked off an overpass. No one could survive that."

Wash's mouth had gone dry as Carolina re-described Maine's injuries. He knew. He was aware. He took a shaky sip of his hot chocolate, partially to hide his fear and partially in an attempt to keep his tongue from shiveling up. He couldn't blame her for explaining, though, she probably didn't exactly know that North knew. However, at the last thing she said, he swore he felt his heart stop. Had Maine...? No, surely he would've been notified, he was Maine's partner after all...

"Those injuries would have killed anyone else," Carolina continued. She took another drink of her coffee, finally looking at Wash. "... so I guess we're lucky it happened to Maine."

Wash felt his blood boil, anger rising up from where it had retreated into his gut. Carolina went on to explain that Maine was still in surgery, but the current report was that he would recover. She informed them most of the wounded would probably be back on the M.O.I. tonight, including Maine, if nothing went catastrophically wrong in surgery. But all Wash could hear was Carolina's tone sounding far too chipped and businesslike. Didn't she care that one of her squad members had almost died?

After she finished speaking, there was a heavy pause. North made some comment or other, and when Carolina gave a laugh in response, Wash's temper ran out once again. It took him a moment, but he finally spoke into his cup, his voice small and forced. "... 'we're' lucky?"

"Huh?"

"We're lucky?!" he shouted, slamming his cup down. "No one is lucky here, Carolina! We're not lucky, the project isn't lucky, the only person who's maybe lucky here is Maine, and I think that's really for him to decide!"

Carolina and North were silent, Carolina actually looking a little shocked while North merely set down his coffee cup. He likely wouldn't hesitate to keep Wash from attacking Carolina out of anger, by any means necessary, now that he knew that it was possible. He may have agreed not to mention the incident to any of their superiors, but if Wash assaulted Carolina, one of those superiors, technically, that promise would probably have to go right out the window. However, his caution proved unnecessary when Wash merely crumpled inward on himself, folding his arms on the tabletop and putting his head down on them.

A long, quiet moment passed, before Carolina spoke again. "... I know how you must feel. It's... scary, when your partner gets hurt like that."

"Don't patronize me, Carolina. It's fucking terrifying," Wash shot back bluntly, voice muffled by the table when he didn't bother to raise his head. "Don't pretend you just saw Maine laying there and you weren't scared shitless. Because if fucking Maine dying on the pavement doesn't scare you, you're not fucking human."

North reached across the table, placing a hand cautiously on Wash's elbow. "Of course it scared us."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"... he's right."

Wash's head snapped up, startling North enough that he pulled his hand away. He had never heard Carolina sound that way. So... upset. Even teary. Green eyes turned down and away from the men around her, as if she just... couldn't look at them. Her gaze was fixed on her hands, folded in her lap.

"... Maine took a bullet for me. The shot to his chest, that was a sniper that got past me. It was enough to knock Maine down for about forty seconds. We think it was heading right for my spine, and if it had hit me, I could have been paralyzed. After I called him a baby and pushed him out a window."

"Maine would never complain about taking a bullet for someone," North reminded her. "He does it all the time. And he knows any of us would do the same for him."

"I could have knocked Maine off course when we were thrown off of the truck, maybe helped him stay out of traffic. At least maybe he wouldn't have gone off the overpass."

"You can't possibly have controlled that."

Carolina finally turned her eyes up, then turned her head almost robotically to lock them onto North's. Wash noticed that they no longer seemed to burn in their sockets: on the contrary, they seemed blank. Detached. When she spoke again, there was no emotion in her voice. As if she had simply shut her heart off. "I let that soldier throw her gun to the man who shot Maine's throat out."

Anger began to leech into Wash's blood again, coursing through his veins and oozing into every fiber of his being. Someone with Carolina's skill should have easily been able to prevent what had happened, and what made it worse was that she prided herself on her apparent-flawlessness. On being he very model of a warrior. Being perfection incarnate.

However, Carolina's voice halted the building anger before it could erupt again. "... Maine nearly died because of me. A sniper shot him in the chest instead of shooting me in the back. And I couldn't stop him getting shot in the throat."

"Carolina, don't say that," North started.

"Why not. It's true. Maine will probably never be the same after this."

"You didn't shoot Maine. You never laid a hand on the gun that did this to Maine."

"It doesn't matter if I pulled the trigger or not!" Carolina's voice broke alongside her composure, tears beginning to leak from her eyes and slide down her face to vanish from sight beneath her chin. "... I was the team leader. It was my responsibility to ensure the safety of my squad, and I failed. Arguably, I failed all of them."

"Failure is certainly an appropriate word, Agent Carolina," a new voice drawled from just out of their lines of sight.

The sound of it was enough to send all three Freelancers scrambling to their feet. They stood at attention, Carolina's cheeks still wet with tears, as the Director came more clearly into view. He had changed gout of the borrowed station scrubs, and had replaced his sunglasses on his face.

"The objective was, however, completed. No lives were lost, although two of your comrades were severely injured. Your failure, Agent Carolina, lies in your inability to remain objective about battlefield casualties. Are you going to blame yourself for Agent Wyoming's injuries as well?"

"Sir, she had more direct contact with Maine," Wash began, as respectfully as he could manage, though he was starting to get angry again. "It makes sense that she would feel responsible for--"

"I did not ask for your opinion, Agent Washington," the Director barked. "Agent Carolina, this is behavior does not suit a soldier of your ranking. You will collect yourself and report to the docking bay to board a dropship back to the Mother of Invention. Agents North Dakota and Washington, the same goes for you two. Agent York will meet you there, and Agent Florida will be the one flying you back. We need our better pilot on-hand at the moment."

Wash clenched his fists, but didn't dare to argue. He didn't want to think about the consequences just now. But, Carolina's voice surprised him yet again. "... sir, I believe it to be in the best interest of all involved that Agent Washington be allowed to remain with his partner, to keep him calm."

"And why would I allow that, Carolina?"

"... Agent Maine will undoubtedly require a few more blood transfusions after his surgery, and probably intravenous painkillers."

"Your point?"

"Agent Washington can explain."

When both the Director and Carolina looked at the gray-armored young man, he felt his blood freeze. He made a noise in the back of his throat, but then squared his shoulders a little more and cleared it to disguise the fact that he'd almost used his partner's real name. "... Maine doesn't react well to needles, sir. And IVs are kind of the worst. The Counselor can tell you why he doesn't like them."

"This is a civilian outfit, sir," Carolina picked up. "The staff would not be equipped to handle Maine if he acted out. And only Agent Washington has shown consistent ability to calm Maine down if he becomes agitated or enraged."

The Director stared silently at Carolina for a long, long minute. His jaw set, and Wash swore he could hear the man's bones crack. He straightened up, sweeping a look down the short line of soldiers in front of him and lingering briefly on North, as if silently daring him to add to the conversation. When North said nothing, the Director continued to speak.

"... arguing with a superior does not suit a soldier of your caliber, Agent Carolina. And it does not suit a soldier in general, Agent Washington, but you know all about that." He adjusted his sunglasses. "The wounded are being prepared for transfer as we speak. Agent Maine will be kept sedated in order to be relocated back to the Mother of Invention. Despite the issues we've just had here, Agent Washington will be waiting in Recovery One for his arrival. Now, all three of you, get back in uniform and report to the docking bay this instant. That is an order."

#agent washington #agent north dakota #agent carolina #the director #project freelancer #red vs blue #rvb #malarkey #my shitty writing #roosterteeth #mainewash #The only way to argue with the Director is to gang up on him #in the end we come right back

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treadmilltreats · 4 years

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Are you a bully?

Now we all know what is going to happen since the presidential debates are here, each candidate will be slinging mud at each other. We all know how one is an out and out bully and he will stop at nothing to make Joe Biden look bad or anyone who says anything about him and so it got me thinking about the rest of us.

So many people today are bullies, you have cyber bullies, co worker bullies, even so called "friend" bullies. Yes, they can come in all forms, even the person you're in love with can be a bully. I can't imagine growing up in today's world where if you do one stupid thing it's all over the Internet for the whole world to see. Everyone now has a say about it as if you didn't already know what a stupid thing you did, you now have millions chiming in and putting in their two cents.

The computer bullies are the worst, these are the people who sit high and mighty behind their keyboards and have something nasty to say about everyone. Even though they have never met them or know anything about these people or their lives. Funny thing is, they have no real balls to ever say anything in real life but behind that screen, watch out.

I even had guys on the dating site take time out of their days to tell me they didn't like my profile or my hair style really?? Do you not have a life? Didn't your mothers ever teach you if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything? Apparently not!

We've all known the coworker bully, who makes you feel bad if you don't do something right, who will be the first to run to rat you out about anything to the boss, yup we've all encountered them. Which reminds me of family bullies, like my cousin who couldn't wait to tell on me and her sister for everything, all the time. It was as if she got a high out of us getting our ass beat.

Yes, even your loved one can be a bully. My ex would stop talking to me, he would withhold love, for days on end to punish me for whatever he thought my infractions were. He would make it seem like I was crazy all while telling me that I was useless and pathetic.

Yes, bullies come in all shapes and forms and they get pleasure out of causing you pain.

It makes them feel superior when they are telling you how stupid you are.

It gives their egos a boost telling you how ugly you are. It gives them power knowing their words can hold so much over you.

I shake my head at the things #45 has said and think, doesn't anyone realize what a bully he is? With quotes like "Laziness is a trait in blacks"

Or She's a bitch, she's ugly, their nice people (speaking of the Natzis)

It's unbelievable that people actually want him back for a second term as he is the world's biggest bully.

Years ago I used to worry about what people said about me, I was a people pleaser. I wanted you to like me and would do anything to get your approval but those days are long over. If you have to put me down to make yourself feel better then there is something wrong with you, not me. You need to fix yourself, you have issues, and I tell my girls that all the time when his words cut them to the core.

Here's the thing, I am not the prettiest, okay so what.

Is my ass big? Yeah me and more than half the world. Do I have a big mouth? Absolutely but the difference between me and you is I would never say or write anything to intentionally hurt another human being. If you took it wrong and assumed that I did then I would be the first to apologize for making you feel bad.

I want to lift others up,

I want to inspire others,

I tell my girls, their friends, my friends, even my readers who write to me that there is nothing they can't do, that they are smart and beautiful.

Why is it so hard for people to do that, you are you and I am me (Okay grammar natzi's go on, have a field day and believe me they will. As if I was a professor or something, please...I write like I speak, so frigging sue me!)

I might not be as beautiful or smart as someone else but I have my God given talents. We all have our own gifts, our own personality and that is what makes the world so special that we are not stepford wives, all the same, walking around like each other. We can applaud others accomplishments, we can be proud and show love without being jealous or petty.

So today my friends, remember what it says about a person who has to call names to others? What does it say when you need to put someone down in order to feel good about yourself?

What are you getting out of it, that you absolutely don't have inside of yourself?

The only time you should look down on someone is if you're offering them a hand up...that's it and especially if you want to run our country.

This is not the leader I want my children to look up to and think it's okay for this behavior ever!

So choose your words wisely... choose your candidate wisely...and remember the tongue is sharper than a sword.

"Be the change you want to see"

"And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

The Blessing in Disguise.... revealed

https://www.amazon.com/Blessing-Disguise-Revealed-story-faith/dp/1074340493/ref=sr_1_19?keywords=the+blessing+in+disguise&qid=1561392004&s=books&sr=1-19

***Now available***

My 1st book The blessing in Disguise

Selling on my website

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

And on Amazon.com

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andrewuttaro · 6 years

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New Look Sabres: GM 59 - FLA - Fourida Part One

I was honestly shook quite a bit when Kirpa was eliminated that way last night. I really thought she was going to make it to hometowns. Then again Cassie is probably getting eliminated next week if we’re all being honest. Oh yeah, this is the Sabres blog. I’m a married man now and this is the first full season of the Bachelor or Bachelorette I’ve watched. I’ve enjoyed it more than the Sabres as of late and I think you know why. I also trust your intelligence enough to understand that if you’re not enjoying an entertainment product enough to justify consuming it than you should step back. At the end of day that’s what our watching hockey is. You could probably read my frustration after the Devils game and that is not a good place to write this blog from. I took a step back. I am going to miss this in the summer. There is going to be a space of late August where I’m dying for this team’s name. This team hasn’t been in the playoffs for going on eight years and nonetheless I take in every little bit of Buffalo Hockey. I just love it and that’s how this blog started. That’s the new attitude. Therefore, I now give you, very enthusiastically, Playoff Trash Talk: Florida, you haven’t had your traditional second half run to get to the playoffs. Is everything ok? The Sabres are in no position to lecture y’all in how to make the playoffs but perhaps Buffalo can teach you all a lesson in playing once you’re there. Oh, you’re tired of the no-one-comes-to-our-games joke? Do something about it! The national hockey media drops Buffalo like a sack of potatoes whenever we’re not competitive so you don’t get to plead for relevance if you can’t be relevant in your own friggin market! You and us are the two teams in this division that always look like fringe playoff teams but never seem to get there. If and when we do meet in the playoffs you can bet the Sabres got more to give than your merry band of tanned Canadians. Sabres in 6! Now let’s get down to tonight’s matchup: the prior three matchups this season were a story of frustration and jubilation on both sides. We thought there was a Skinner-Yandle spat developing last game and here we are now in… different spots regarding the playoffs. It doesn’t look great for us right now but your done and if we’re going to make it, we got to play with confidence. I’m going to be the change I want to see in the world and call you Fourida Part 1! We’re getting two points against y’all and two points against your vastly superior neighbors to the north! 2+2= FOURIDA! I stole that play on words from every other hockey blogger, but I don’t care! LET’S GO!

I was absorbed by the drama between Kirpa and Cassie during the first, but I watched pieces and monitored twitter. It was either hot garbage or a scary good period from the Sabres according to twitter and what actually transpired on the ice was truly a mixed bag. On the ice in the first you see those confounding turnovers in all three zones, you see the bad defensive plays, and you see the hanging Ullmark out to dry. However, the chances the visitors did get were quality chances in the first. No score through 20 minutes. For all you folks decrying the O’Reilly trade guess which team won most the faceoffs in the start of this one? Yep, BUFFALO! That’s good because the Panthers outshot the Sabres. Something might have been said in the locker room during the first intermission because the visitors came out with some fire afterward. The second period saw the shot gap close quite a bit. It was hardly five minutes in when Jack Eichel got the puck into the offensive zone with Mittelstadt trailing not far. The initial shot was haphazardly and whatever. Every scoring play in this game kind of looked like a slow-motion train derailment but the Sabres had the man advantage and would use it for once. Sam Reinhart got the puck and shot it toward his Captain who got credit for a deflection goal that may or may not have gone off his stick. Nonetheless, the Sabres got the 1-0 lead and took it to the second intermission. The way the final frame goes though just about sums up this season.

Before you know it the Sabres are down 2-1. The first Panthers goal was by future Sabre Jonathan Huberdeau and the second goal was an absolute snipe by a guy named Jayce whose last name I will not even make an attempt at. He looked pumped too because he just about squeezed the life out of Vincent Trocheck for the assist. Okay, it’s one goal, let’s catch our breaths, guys. It isn’t over-. Shoot. Aleksander Barkov punched another one home in a goal I will absolutely blame Ullmark for. It snuck in on the post Linus had covered so I don’t know what went wrong. Down 3-1 and our boys stabilized it for a little while. They were crashing the net so hard poor James Reimer lost his helmet to Jake McCabe’s crotch at one point. Jack Eichel even scored a goal! Well, it got challenged and called back because we’re not allowed fun things in Western New York Sports anymore. The Sabres kept pushing until Jonathan Huberdeau scored again with less then four minutes left. Could they take him back to Buffalo? He cut through the D like warm butter. Terry Pegula was at the game after all! Vladimir Sabotka scored a goal in the dying minutes of this one for comedic relief, but it ended in a loss nonetheless 4-2 Florida. The goalie failed, the defense failed, and the forwards failed. This was another team loss and at this point it really feels like I tied an anchor to this team after enjoying that Islanders win so much. I want to apologize for my crassness and excitement after that win. I forgot how this goes. That said, I’m still not turning away any tickets you buy for me.

I’m not going to bother with three things right now: 1, I am sticking to Fourida and you can fight me if you hate optimism. I’m drinking the Kool-aid, fight me! 2, the out-of-town scoreboard isn’t my concern anymore. These guys need four or five wins in a row now before we can look at that with any degree of seriousness. 3, I know dropping from an 82% chance at a playoff spot in November to this is an historic, shitty record. I am not piling on sadness because, what did we say at the start: this is an entertainment product, not a misery machine. Take a deep breath. Watch the Bachelor! That’s a train-wreck we can all enjoy, eh? Like, share and share this blog around; and while you’re at it pray or send your good feels Kyle Okposo’s way. He’s got a concussion again and his injury history paints a very scary picture about that. Cheer for him if you can’t bear to do it with this utter collapse. Breathe in with me again, and out, and wind up for it: Let’s Go Sabres!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Carl Hagelin would be a fun, speedy addition to a bottom six that is anemic at times. Obviously, you want the right price for him. Alex Wenneburg is a bigger gamble, but I would take any shake up at this point if it doesn’t cost too much.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #blog #nhl

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very-secret-diary · 7 years

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I was tagged by @girl-of-summer (thank you!)

the last … 

1. drink: Water, always

2. phone call: Apparently my sister but I think that was an accident, so actually my mom as usual

3. text message: Amanda, pretty much this will be my answer whenever asked this question

4. song you listened to: I’m not sure, something on the radio? I wasn’t paying attention tbh

5. time you cried: Um well I almost started crying earlier today? My family was all outside doing fireworks and I finally decided maybe I could deal with it and I went out and they lit one and the sound stressed me out so bad I had to immediately go back inside and hold back tears? But for real was yesterday because I’m a mess.

6. dated someone twice: Never even dated someone once

7. kissed someone and regretted it: #neverbeenkissed

8. been cheated on: Lol nope

9. lost someone special: A few years ago

10. been depressed: I am almost 100% sure that I have pdd so like, always

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Never

favorite colors

12. Grey

13. Emerald green

14. Can I say grey again???

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends: Sure, ish

16. fallen out of love: Nope lol

17. laughed until you cried: Plenty, I do that

18. found out someone was talking about you: No

19. met someone who changed you: Nah

20. found out who your friends are: I always know who my friends are

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: Nope

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: The vast majority

23. do you have any pets: Yes, two dogs, two cats, and technically a pig but I don’t really count that

24. do you want to change your name: No, I will never change any bit of my name, the most I would even consider doing is hyphenating my last name if I got married, and even then that’s unlikely (both getting married and hyphenating if I did)

25. what did you do for your last birthday: I baked myself some cookies, say in my room away from all human contact, and reread the Foxhole Court while eating those cookies all by myself. Also my cousin gave my a free ice cream cone. It was nice, even though it was the first time I had a birthday away from my family. 26. what time did you wake up: 9:45ish because my mom woke me up so we could go to my aunts house, normally it would be later

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Watching the Power Rangers movie with my family

28. name something you can’t wait for: To finally live in a place with AC again

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: I mean I’m lying on her bed rn, but she is in the front room, so the last time I actually saw her was like an hour or two ago lol

31. what are you listening to right now: The sound of the defective window unit the provides the only bit of cool air in my house

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: I don’t think so?

33. something that is getting on your nerves: Trying to survive a Florida summer without AC, it’s making me irritable lol

34. most visited website: Tumblr and YouTube. Technically on my laptop it says I go on YouTube more, but I use Tumblr mobile more than on my computer so yeah

35. hair colour: It’s definitely brown at this point, it used to be blonde and has darkened with age

36. long or short hair: What do I have? It’s like medium length right now, but I want to cut it shorter, to above my shoulders (that bisexual haircut is really what I’m aiming for). But I do sometimes miss my insanely long hair. On other people anything is nice.

37. do you have a crush on someone: Real people? No. Fictional people? So many.

38. what do you like about yourself: ??? I’m smartish. Edit: also my hair is really soft when I actually shower.

39. piercings: I pierced my ears on my 5th birthday, but I have not worn earrings since 5th grade so yeah

40. blood type: I have no clue but I really wish I did

41. nickname: Some people in my family call me Karebear? And my little sister when she was a baby called me Ra-ra, and currently my family refers to me as that when talking to my 6 month old cousin, but that’s really it. Kara is short enough as it is. Oh, some people like calling me Car-uh instead of Kare-uh, either to annoy me (family and friends) or because they constantly forget how to actually pronounce it so I’ve stopped correcting them (some teachers and acquaintances), but idk if that really counts

42. relationship status: Single

43. zodiac: Sagittarius

44. pronouns: She/her

45. favourite tv show: Avatar the Last Airbender, no question

46. tattoos: None currently, one day though

47. right or left handed: Right handed

48. surgery: Never had one thankfully

49. so called “flaws”: Lol I’m both majorly insecure and have a superiority complex (about some things), which is super fun. I have a hard time admitting I’m wrong, and when I know I’m right I will argue past the point that I technically should. I am a major major procrastinator who should be failing everything but I’m not, somehow. I like to lie. I’m actually kind of a really mean person. Like god, I’m not a good person.

50. sports: Exy

51. vacation: I would love to travel everywhere and do something actually exciting and interesting

more general

53. eating: I don’t do it as much as I should

54. drinking: Water, forever and always. I’m in like year 15 of literally only drinking water

55. i’m about to: Idk what I’m gonna do after this, maybe try to sleep, maybe read a little bit of the Raven King

56. waiting for: ? Nothing currently

57. want: So many things, but mostly air conditioning

58. get married: I’m not opposed, but it is not something I expect. If I do it will almost definitely be to a girl though, just putting that out there.

59. career: I am going to be a social worker, preferably international child welfare but we’ll see, everything is good

60. hugs or kisses: Hugs, but only my family and little kids

61. lips or eyes: Eyes are so so pretty, always eyes

62. shorter or taller: I don’t care, most girls are shorter than me, most guys are my height or taller. I like my height currently and others peoples height does not matter at all to me.

63. older or younger: Is this like about dating? Cause I don’t care as long as the gap is not too big?

64. nice arms or nice stomach: Um? I guess arms, because all tummies are good tummies unless they are mine, but my opinion on arms is more variable. Can I choose hands though, because lol that’s a thing.

65. hook up or relationship: Relationship

66. troublemaker or hesitant: I’m hesitant in practice, but somewhere in the middle in theory

67. kissed a stranger: again #neverbeenkissed

68. drank hard liquor: When you’ve only had water since you were 5 it really limits the exposure to alcohol, so no

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: I am constantly misplacing my glasses, but I’ve never lost them for more than a day or two

70. turned someone down: Nope

71. sex on the first date: I don’t think I would, but I support anyone and everyone else who decides to do so

72. broken someone’s heart: Almost certainly not

73. had your heart broken: Not in terms of my own relationships, other, fictional ones, lol yes

74. been arrested: No

75. cried when someone died: Probably when my grandfathers died, but I was to little to really be sure

76. fallen for a friend: I mean, I’ve had small crushes on people that I talk too, but I have very few people that I consider true friends, and I’ve never actually “fallen” for anyone

do you believe in …

77. yourself: That’s complicated, but I guess, I have a solid, mostly realistic life plan that I think is very possible

78. miracles: Also complicated? Divine miracles? Not really. But it depends on how you define miracles. I like to call really wonderful things that happen against almost all odds miracles, so of course.

79. love at first sight: Romantically No. You can have an almost immediate connection with someone (though you need more than sight for that, you need some sort of communication), but love grows. But familial love, yes. It is so so possible to fall in love with a new baby or other family member right away. And maybe that even extends to other types of platonic love.

80. santa claus: Lol as long as I have children in my life, then of course

81. kiss on the first date: If both parties are up for it then sure

82. angels: Not really. I’m a strong agnostic so I don’t believe, but I don’t disbelieve either. And I do sometimes like to think about it, there is something nice about it

other

83. current best friend’s name: Amanda and Victoria

84. eye colour: I say green, other’s say blue (and they used to 100% be blue), but it really depends on what I’m wearing and the lighting, it changes how people perceive them

85. favourite movie: Okay I’m going to list some of them: The Proposal (I seriously know almost every line to this movie I’ve watched it so many times), 10 Things I Hate About You (god I will never get over Kat and Patricks relationship), Big Hero 6 (that movie will always hold such a special place in my heart, especially Tadashi). I feel like I’m forgetting some important ones but like, I guess they can’t be my true true favorites if I’m not immediately thinking of them. And again I’m tagging: @weighing-of-wands @trucha-sai @andyouwait and @pansexualize, but again no pressure friends, I just don’t want to not tag anyone

#about me #tags

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thetruthseekerway · 5 years

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5 Actionable Sunnah of the Prophet Backed By Science

New Post has been published on https://www.truth-seeker.info/jewels-of-islam/5-actionable-sunnah-of-the-prophet-backed-by-science/

5 Actionable Sunnah of the Prophet Backed By Science

By Truth Seeker Staff

Actionable Sunnah of the Prophet Backed By Science

We’ve all heard about scientific evidence in the Quran, where modern science has found scientific discoveries that have been revealed in the Qur’an 1, 400 years ago! Only now, scientists of the 20th and 21st centuries have found scientific facts that confirm revelations of the Quran from the origins of life, the sky, sun’s orbit, oceans, iron, the expanding universe and many more. If anything, these scientific pieces of evidence should strengthen one’s faith in Islam as the true faith.

So what about the Sunnahs of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)? He has been described as a walking Qur’an after all. For the devout Muslims, the Prophet is a role model and all his actions are to be followed and his manners to be imitated. So has the Prophet’s (PBUH) habitual actions (sunnah fi’lillyah) been confirmed by modern science too?

We did some research to find out. Due to time constraints, we’ve only limited our article to 5 actionable Sunnahs which we have found scientific studies confirming their benefits.

Why Emulate the Sunnah of the Prophet (PBUH)

“You have a good model in the Messenger of Allah for one who hopes for Allah and the Last Day.” [Al-Ahzab 33:21].

A role model is someone you would admire and would follow his actions, habits, and way of thinking. In this modern age, so many of us would cite successful businessmen, scientists or even celebrities as our role models, but the real role model recommended by Allah is none other than our beloved Prophet (PBUH). The great scholars of the past, such as Imam Nawawi, had even compiled books on the Prophet’s actions on eating, sitting, and sleeping in his famous book, Garden of the Believers, Riyadh u’Saliheen.

1 – Smile: The Sunnah and The Science

The Prophet (Pbuh) has been described as someone who would often smile. “I have not seen anyone who smiled more than The Prophet (PBUH)” (at-Tirmidhi)

A recent study at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville and Texas A&M found that simply smiling can make the person feel happier. The facial expression portrayed by the person impacts his emotions, so if you have a smile on your face, you will feel happier and if you have a frown on your face, you will feel angrier.

The Prophet (PBUH) encourages people to smile, as it is considered an act of charity (at-Tirmidhi)).

Another study found that when a person smiles at another person leads to a similar response. Really, when you smile at people, people will smile back at you. So smiling is also contagious!

2 – The Sunnah and the Science Eating While Sitting Down

The Prophet (Pbuh.) forbade us from drinking while standing. Qatadah reported: “We asked him: ‘What about eating?”‘ He said: “That is even worse, (or maybe he said) more detestable.” (Muslim)

Today, it is now common to see people walking whilst drinking and eating. We live in a fast pace world, and so time is saved when we walk and do other things. In the West, there are now cafes which offer standing room only for drinking and eating.

A recent study at the University of South Florida found that people who ate while standing did not enjoy their meal as much. They felt their food to be less tasty than compared to people who ate while sitting down. People who ate while standing also ate lesser amounts compared to those who ate while sitting. This is because the standing position created greater physical stress on the body, which led to decreasing sensory sensitivity.

There are also many other studies which have concluded that eating while standing up is bad for your health

3 – Fasting Regularly: The Science Behind the Sunnah

The Prophet (Pbuh) would often fast on Mondays and Thursdays (at-Tirmidhi) and recommended the fasting of Prophet Dawud (PBUH) (Bukhari) where fasting is done on alternate days.

This is now known as intermittent fasting and is practiced by health enthusiasts in the West, where food is not consumed for a period of 12-24 hours, followed by normal eating and the cycle then repeats.

Studies have shown that intermittent fasting can lead to health benefits such as weight loss, lowering type 2 diabetes and reducing neurological disorders such as Alzheimer’s, Parkinson and stroke.

4 – The Sunnah of the Miswak – Dental Hygiene and Modern Science

The Prophet (PBUH) said: “If it were not that it would be difficult on my nation, then I would have ordered them to use the Siwak for each prayer.” (at-Tirmidhi)

Even 1,400 years ago, Islam showed the importance of body hygiene with the wudhu’ and dental hygiene by using the Miswak to clean the teeth.

In today’s modern age, we now use toothbrush and toothpaste to maintain dental hygiene. The Miswak is often dismissed as just a twig, an old-age tool. But is it really?

The Miswak vs The Toothbrush

Norms would have it that the toothbrush and the toothpaste are superior in protecting our teeth when compared to a traditional, centuries-old tool, the Miswak. Nonetheless, there have been many studies to compare the effectiveness of the Miswak against the toothbrush in today’s society to confirm or dismiss such norms. So which is better?

A study had found that using the Miswak lowered gingival bleeding when compared to toothbrush users. Another comparison study of Miswak vs toothbrush found that using the Miswak leads to reduced dental plaque and gingivitis. Another comparison study also found that using Miswak reduces dental caries when compared to using toothbrushes and toothpaste.

The Miswak, also known as Salvadora persica chewing stick in scientific communities has special properties: antibacterial compound, known as BICT which is found in certain plants. When the Miswak is mixed with the saliva, this antibacterial compound is released, according to this study. However, the amount of the antibacterial compound decreases gradually if the same piece of Miswak is used several times. Hence, the study recommends that the Miswak is cut prior to each use to ensure the freshness of the twig and new antibacterial compound is released at each teeth-cleaning session. Does this mean that you should ditch the toothbrush? Not necessarily.

Remember the path of moderation. While the Miswak has great benefits, so too does the toothpaste and toothbrush. The best practice would be to use the Miswak prior to the 5 obligatory prayers, just as The Prophet (Pbuh) has recommended, and of course, to continue with the toothbrush each morning and night.

5 – Sleeping Positions: The Sunnah and the Science

The Prophet (Pbuh) used to sleep with a sleeping position on the right side (Bukhari). He also forbade people from sleeping on the stomach (Abu Dawud). A study has found that sleeping on the side positions has benefits of reducing the chances of developing Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s and other neurological diseases.

Sleeping on the belly is harmful as research has shown that sleeping on the stomach for babies can lead to Sudden Death Syndrome (SIDS). Another study found that sleeping on the front causes children to grind their teeth when sleeping.

Reviving the Sunnah

As Muslims, our ultimate goal is to reach Jannah (paradise) and the ways to get there are plenty. Reviving the Sunnah of the Prophet (PBUH) is one such way. Allah has stated that he is the best role model, and what better ways to follow than The Prophet’s way. If anything, these scientific studies have shown that Islam is the truth, in the Qur’an and even in the manners and habits of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH).

For how could an illiterate man (Prophet Muhammad PBUH) who lived 1,400 years ago have known about his sayings and actions have scientific benefits, if not for the One True God guiding him?

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Adapted with editorial adjustments with permission from https://halalop.com/

#5 Actionable Sunnahs of the Prophet Backed By Science #Faith #Featured #Islam #Prophet Muhammad #quran #Religion #science #sunnah

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