#and props to Kane for drinking that

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Eliot’s patented hangover cure.

Leverage S04E11 The Experimental Job.

#leverage #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #christian kane #gina bellman #proof that eliot does canonically take painkillers #so all you fanfic writers are wrong #i kid i kid i love those stories! #and props to Kane for drinking that #i would be gagging #ghostly'sgifs

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Brink of Death

Kane & Jim AUs Masterlist

content: failed escape attempt, dehydration, environmental whump, carewhumper, vampire whumper, bugs mention

Bad End so nice i do it twice. what if Kane caught Jim on the second night instead of the first? diverges from the events of Out.

@amonthofwhump​ March Trope-A-Thon Day 1: Environmental / Rockslide / Rain/Snowstorm / Exposure/Lost / Come In From The Cold

Jim was vaguely aware that he was dying, but it was hard to think. He was too dizzy.

The sun set, and he was so thankful that the heat lessened that he could barely think about the danger of Kane finding him. Maybe it would be better if Kane found him. He would be in excruciating pain and would probably never walk again, but Kane would at least keep him alive. Kane would give him water. He’d go back to Kane if he could have water. He’d give up his ankles for water.

His hand stayed closed around the stick despite this train of thought. He held it close to his chest, like a child hugging a treasured plush toy.

I don’t wanna go back. I’m scared.

Jim’s eyes fluttered shut. He opened them again.

I am going to die.

His breathing was ragged and shallow and it hurt, the air only seeming to make his throat drier.

His eyes closed again. He did not try to open them.

-

There he was. His human, collapsed on the ground, just over the border into human territory. He’d nearly died to make it there. Stupid thing.

Kane gave him a light kick.

The human’s eyes opened slow, his response delayed. He looked up at Kane blearily, clutching at the stick in his hands.

“W-water?” he stuttered, his voice scratchy. His entire body smelled of blood, from his cracked lips to his scratched-up feet to... whatever was going on with his back.

This was what happened to a human that goes two days without water? It was unbelievable. How were they surviving out there?

Kane sighed. “Yes, yes, you’ll get water back at home. You’re not dying on my watch.”

The human dropped the stick. “Yes, sir,” he rasped.

Well, at least there was some obedience. Proper titles for once.

Kane scooped him up off the ground. He was filthy and shirtless- it looked like he had fashioned his shirt into makeshift slippers, which had then been eviscerated by his two-day trek.

The human’s head thudded weakly against Kane’s chest. His eyes fluttered closed again, his breathing shallow.

Kane hurried home, a bit worried that the human might die despite his abundant efforts. When he got there, he dumped him on the bed in the human quarters. The human didn’t wake, or at least didn’t appear to.

Water, he’d said. The fact that Kane was now made to tend to him after something as audacious as an escape attempt was infuriating, but a punishment could be attended to later.

He went to the kitchen, filled up a glass of water, and brought it back for his human. He shook him roughly by the shoulder. “Wake up, human. Drink.”

The human didn’t wake.

Beginning to get nervous, Kane propped the human up with a hand on his back and tipped the glass to his lips with the other, letting the water touch them. ”Drink.” he commanded.

The human came to life the second the water touched his lips, gulping it down desperately. He devoured the whole glass, looking up at Kane pleadingly. “More?” he croaked.

Kane removed his hand, letting the human flop back onto the bed. He shouldn’t be coddling his human right after he tried to escape. But what else could he do? The human obviously wasn’t in any state to help himself.

“Fine.” Kane went to the kitchen and refilled the glass. The human drank it down just as fast, and Kane, though begrudgingly, continued refilling it until he was satisfied.

The human held his half-full glass to his chest, like he was afraid Kane would take it away, at looked at Kane wide-eyed. Warily.

They were on the same page, then.

“You ran. When I explicitly told you not to.”

The human’s eyes watered, now that he had water in his body to spare. He scooted back until he was pressed against the wall: they both knew he couldn’t truly go anywhere.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Master. I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’ve been searching for you for two nights!” Kane snapped. “And I haven’t fed in that entire time! I certainly can’t now, you’d about keel over. Do you have any idea what a pain this has been?”

The human nodded, arms hovering defensively over his bare chest. “Yes, sir,” he replied quietly, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Kane supposed he really did know. Being a weaker species, the two nights had practically killed him, the woods doling out a punishment on their own. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated.

The human winced at Kane’s obvious irritation. “I w-won’t try to run again. I mean it this time,” he insisted fervently. “I can’t. I’d die. I know that now. I know-” he let out a sob before continuing, voice wobbly, “I know I’m yours forever. Sir. Please don’t- don’t hurt me. It already hurts.” He cast his eyes down, trembling.

Kane eyed him icily for a long moment, trying to determine if he really meant it, but it was obvious he did. He could see it clear on the human’s face.

He leaned forward and grabbed the human by the chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“This will not be tolerated again.”

“Yes, sir,” the human squeaked, eyes wide with fear.

Kane released him. “Clean up. You’re a mess. I’ll help you get those bugs off your back if you can’t manage it.”

The human nodded slowly, obviously relieved at the lack of further punishment. “Thank you.”

-

taglist to be added in reblog!

#kane and jim au #whump #my writing #amow tropeathon 2023 #environmental #environmental whump #failed escape #dehydration #carewhumper #vampire whumper #whump writing

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WOTHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: drinking, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), cowboy innuendo, swearing

AN: happy birthday Christian Kane! Here’s some fun that I thought up with @illiana-mystery! First pic from Google. Bottom left from @pegasusrose99. bottom right from @katbratsupernaturalwhore. Thanks for sending these over guys! Save a horse ride a cowboy

I put the bottle back on the table and leaned further into jakes side. He tilted his head back as he drained his bottle.

“so any plans for your birthday jake?” Cassie asked. “I mean other than this.” Jake smiled over at me with a small laugh.

“Yeah. I got a few plans.” He said as he leaned his head against mine, cowboy hat pushed up his head. “Just me and this one.” Jake kissed my temple while everyone groaned.

“and there it is ladies, gents and others.” Ezekiel groaned, hands out while everyone handed over money.

“you betting on us now?” I asked. Flynn nodded.

“between the two of you, there isn’t a safe place in the library anymore.” He whined. Jake and laughed as we shared a look.

“ain’t our fault no one knocks anymore.” Jake teased.

“yeah. Jenkins knocks. He ain’t walked in on us.” I added.

“we shouldn’t have to knock!” Eve complained. Jake laughed as he reached for my beer. I let him have it and rolled my eyes. “It’s the library. It’s where we work!”

“exactly.” Jake tipped the bottle towards her.

“That’s why we do it on company time.” Jake passed the bottle back to me and I took a sip. “Besides not like we’ve ever been doing it when we need to go out on a mission.” Flynn rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. “Now if y’all will excuse me, I’m headed to the bathroom.” I gave jake a look and ran my hand along his bicep as I got out of the booth. Heading towards the bathroom, I threw a look over my shoulder at him. Jake shifted and got up to run after me. There was some laughter from the table as jake caught up with me. I waited a second for him to check the stalls before pulling him in for a kiss. “Happy birthday cowboy.” I whispered as I pulled away slightly.

jake laughed as he picked me up and set me on the sink counter. I reached out and undid his belt, popping the jeans button and watching as he pulled down the zipper. Jake leaned in to kiss me again as he went to work on my jeans. The brim of the hat kept bumping the top of my head so I reached up and pulled it off. Jake whined at the feeling and pulled back in time to watch me prop the hat on my own head.

“oh fuck that’s hot.” He moaned as he pulled me in for another kiss. Pulling his underwear down, jake lifted me up slightly to pull down mine. Jake hummed against my lips as he slid into me and I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was a slow pace, tilting our hips up to meet each other with each thrust. Jake pulled back slightly to watch me, breath still mingling in soft pants. “You should wear my hat more often.” Jake breathed. “Sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.” I have a soft laugh that dissolved into a moan as he changed the angle of his thrusts. Jake gave me a shit eating grin before kissing me again.

“Maybe next time I’ll just wear the hat.” Jake groaned as his head fell to my shoulder.

“Don’t…” his breathing hitched as I ground against him. “Don’t do that me darling.” I giggled as he leaned in to kiss my neck, snapping his hips up against mine in the process. “God the things you do to me.” He whispered against my neck. I moaned as he picked up speed reaching up to wind my fingers through his hair. Tugging lightly, jake moaned as he nipped at my jaw.

the door opened and the sounds of big and Rich came drifting in, making our heads snap up as jake stilled. Flynn looked over at us and his eyes went wide.

“come on!” He yelled as he slapped a hand over his eyes. “I’ve seen more of the two of you than I’d ever like to see anyone! Except Eve! Get a room you two!” Flynn turned around and walked back out of the bathroom, the door swinging closed. The song playing finally registered as jake and I looked at each other. We started to laugh as jake rolled his hips. He tried to match the beat but we were too close for it to mean anything. Leaning in to kiss me, jake started to snap his hips against mine. Tugging on his hair again, I moaned as my orgasm washed over me. Jake gave another snap of his hips before stilling. With a twitch, he came and leaned his head against my shoulder.

“save a horse ride a cowboy.” I breathed out with a laugh. “Pretty accurate. And much more pleasurable.” I kissed jakes cheek before he picked his head up.

“much obliged.” He smiled at me. I laughed again as I took the hat off my head and put his back on his.

“happy birthday jake.” I said with a smile, kissing him again as he pulled out. Hopping off the counter, I pulled my pants back up and helped him straighten his clothes out.

“ready to face Flynn?” Jake asked, offering me his hand. I nodded and interlocked our fingers.

“of course. Let’s go see how scarred he really is.” Jake laughed as he kissed my cheek, opening the door to see Eve standing guard.

#jake stone #jake stone fanfic #jake stone imagine #Jake stone fanfiction #Jake stone x reader #jacob stone x reader #jacob stone #jacob stone imagine #jacob stone fanfic #Jacob stone fanfiction #christian kane x reader #christian kane #christian Kane fanfic #Christian Kane fanfiction #Christian Kane imagine #the librarians #the librarians imagine #the librarians fanfic

[iggydabirdkid]

So this is my first attempt at writing in 2nd person POV. First time posting my writing on a public forum as well 😅 I just have so many small fic ideas I want to get out there because I love to write!

So this is a small thing I wrote for my Fallen Hero character, Annie Kane. It takes place on the road during the innocent ending while Annie, Julia, and Herald (keeping watch from the sky) are on the way to Tía Elena’s ranch.

If anyone has any tips or pointers on how to write in this point of view a little smoother, please let me know. Was a little bit of a struggle and there are probably some parts that aren’t quite right 😅

Title: In Between

Word Count: 2506

+++++

You were parked outside a gas station.

Not really your choice. You could handle pain. You would have preferred to keep going.

Julia had been speeding through the deserted roads full of dips and bumps whose only purpose seemed to be the delivery of more pain to your already battered body. Something that the shitty suspension of the van did nothing to soften. The clenching of your teeth had done nought to quieten the sharp gasp of pain that had left your mouth when the entire body of the van had jolted and shaken as a tire found a momentary pit stop in a pothole. The countryside was full of them.

“Annie?” Julia’s voice was full of worry when she had spoken your name, the tone so commonly used whenever she addressed you. When you didn’t immediately reply she had half-turned in the driver’s seat to peer at your reclined form and you turned your head away so she wouldn’t see the tears forming in your eyes, “Do you need painkillers?” she had asked. Your reply had been a sharp word in the affirmative, eyes squeezed shut as you had let your head flop against a pillow, the pain radiating through your limbs ebbing only a little as the van began to slow. She insisted that you eat something first and any protest you had died on your lips when you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten. Would it have been the dinner at Julia’s? Shit. Probably.

You had been hesitant and fearful (though you would never admit it) about stopping, even with the distance you had put between your strange group and Los Diablos. But with Daniel in the air somewhere high above and keeping watch, you had been somewhat calmed with the explanation that should anything occur anywhere near the van, you’d be out of there in a flash. And although you had grumbled half-heartedly at Julia’s attempt to mother you before she had headed inside the fluorescently lit station locking the van behind her, you were secretly glad that she was there to care.

You were never very good at caring for yourself.

That was probably the reason Julia hadn’t let you out of her sight since you had left the hospital wing. Was she afraid that you would do something drastic if left alone? Or was her reason more selfish, fearing you would disappear for good as soon as she turned her back? The thoughts made you snort out a laugh. In your condition? What would you even be able to do?

Even now while she was barely meters away surely picking out snacks she knew you would like in the shitty lighting of this backwater stop she had left her brick of a cell phone grasped in your hand. Daniel was on the other end, his words a continuous drone as he talked about something you found you couldn’t quite listen to through the painful fog that was your mind. Though still, you were glad for his voice. Even if it was just for the noise it created.

Something else to focus on that wasn’t your own thoughts.  

So here you were lying in the back of a van that had certainly seen better days. Your broken legs were propped up on cushions you swear you had last spied on Julia’s couch before you had bolted from her apartment like a frightened animal. You were trying your best to keep down the pained whimpers you could feel building in your throat from escaping through your parched lips.

Shit. You really wanted a drink.

But to mention as such to Julia even in such a way to frame it as a joke (as you found yourself doing more often these days) would only bring about the look of pity you had almost punched her for after the crash. You hated it. The way her lips clamped shut and pursed, stretched thin with worry. How her brows furrowed in concern while creating new lines, new wrinkles on her already aging face.

She reminded you so much of her mother when she looked at you like that.

That thought spurred more into being and you found yourself thinking about her. Tía Elena. A woman who had invited you into her home with a warm smile and open arms all those years ago when she barely knew you (you had scarcely known yourself), and who last time you had been in her presence had confessed to you in the barely lit hallway of her home that she was just so pleased to see Julia with someone who made her truly happy.

She had once meant so much to you (why couldn’t you remember how that felt?) and as of a few hours ago she had most likely not known you were even alive. You only knew Julia had called her as she told you such when the city was a cluster of lights in the rearview. Oh what you would have given to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

Your thoughts turn and twist inside your mind and you wonder not for the first time how much Julia has told her about the situation, about you, about….

Guilt and anxiety flutter in your chest and your insides feel as if they are writhing causing you to let out a groan of mixed emotions. The white noise that had been filling the van ceases as Daniel’s rambling comes to an abrupt stop and you silently cursed yourself for forgetting you weren’t alone.

“Annie?” his voice drifts from the phone perched in your lap by way of a whisper, as if he thought it were his volume that had brought forth the sound of exasperation from your lungs.

“It’s fine,” you snap back, too quickly. And you can hear the exhaustion alongside the anger borne of painful memories and he must be able to tell too as the silence stretches on long enough to bring a grimace to your face, “It’s not you,” you add when you realize your original answer wouldn’t be enough to quell the anxious thoughts of his fluttering mind.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” The question is hesitant, so much like how Julia’s were whenever the topic of your suffering was laid bare.

The smart thing would be to say no. To lie and to just say you had shifted wrong and any other time you probably would have. But as it was you were in pain with your body aching and a dull throbbing behind your eyes that echoed the pulsing hurt at the base of your skull. And you just couldn’t muster up the energy and words to spin another tale, so many lies piled on top of each other it was getting harder to figure out what was the truth. And so when you open your mouth the first thing that slips through is a deep sigh.

“I…” you trail off, unsure how to start. How to frame the situation going on inside your head in a way that would make sense to someone who had no idea of the history between you and the Ortega family. So you opt for the simplest explanation, “Tía Elena,” you begin again, “I haven’t seen her since my Sidestep days.”

“And you’re nervous about seeing her again?” a smart assumption. And annoyingly correct.

“I don’t want her to pity me. I hate when people pity me,” you grumble and cross your arms, regretting the movement immediately as your back seizes up. You let out a laugh that may or may not be self-deprecating in its nature and words of truth fall easily from your lips, “I’m not sure if you’ve realized, but I don’t like talking about myself. And I loathe it when people ask me questions.” You continue talking, rambling almost, “Julia’s bad enough with her insistent need to always get to the bottom of things. But telling the truth is hard for me, it goes against everything that I am.” Your hands clench tightly in your lap, pulling apart the small cuts on your fingers left over from the crash, “But her mother…” you sigh, “I don’t think I’ll have the strength to lie to her face.”

“Then don’t?”

The laugh that comes from you is harsh and maybe a touch manic, the motions of your brief amusement causing the mobile to roll from your lap and land on the blankets beneath you with a soft thump, “Shit…” you mumble and reach out for the device, hissing out another curse as pain shoots down your arm and into your back like lightning. Where was Julia with that damn food already? “That’s easy for you to say Flyboy.” It takes you a moment to settle back into a semi-comfortable position, “You’re the Rangers golden child, the picture-perfect ray of sunshine. I doubt you have any secrets to keep.”

“You’d be surprised,” comes the reply, softer and sadder than you thought it would be, “But you don’t have to lie to her, I don’t think so anyways? From what Julia’s told me about Elena she seems like a very kind woman and I’m sure that the only thing she’ll care about is that you’re okay.”

“Okay…” The sound feels sour on your tongue as you parrot his last word back to him, “I’m far from okay Daniel, I think we all know that. But…”

“But?”

“If I’m going to be spending the next while around her, lying will only cause more issues, that I’m smart enough to admit.” You grind your teeth together, the sound reverberating around your skull, “I mean look where lying has got me. Two broken legs, a body feeling like its full of glass shards and relying on people who definitely should not be helping me do this.” Yet despite your words you feel a grateful smile tug the corners of your lips upwards.

“We’re your friends Annie. Friends help friends.”

You feel unwelcome tears spring to your eyes as your face grows uncomfortably warm and you look up at the ceiling of the van to prevent them from spilling, and to avoid the awkward questions you’re sure Julia would ask should she see the trails they would create down your pale cheeks, “Thanks Danny.” You hope he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice or the slight sniffle at the end of your words.

“You’re welcome!” comes his cheerful reply. And maybe that’s all you need at the moment. For others to be happy around you when you can’t do so for yourself. If you stick around long enough maybe their attitudes will rub off on you… Maybe.

The loud and sudden clicking of the van unlocking causes your body to jolt as you are wrenched from your thoughts. The phone goes soaring from your lap landing somewhere further than you dare to reach and a string of curses fly from your mouth as your vision goes white from pain, “Shit Julia!!” you shout when you finally find your words proper.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” comes the panicked reply as the tall and broad form of Julia Ortega carefully clambers over the front seat and into your small space. She crouches down with her shoulders hunched up to her ears and scoots closer to you as she holds up your favorite brand of chips and a small selection of chocolate bars, “I come baring gifts.” She adopts an apologetic and lopsided grin and you can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face.

“Idiot,” you scold her softly, “If I wasn’t in so much pain right now I would punch you,” you tell her as she passes you her peace offerings.

“And I would let you. But you probably shouldn’t move any more than needed.” You shoot her a glare, “Sorry…” she grimaces as her hand moves to rub the back of her neck, a nervous gesture that is soon replaced by a frown, “What’s that sound?” It takes you a moment to reply with your mouth full of salty goodness, but you swallow the dry crisps and cough out an answer.

“The phone, Daniel.” You clear your throat and Julia hands you a bottle of clear liquid, “This vodka?” you raise an eyebrow and crack a grin, shaking the bottle as she rolls her eyes and so slowly moves further towards the back of the van. You watch her dig around in the extra blankets and pillows until she emerges victorious with her clunky phone in her hands.

“Is everything okay?” Daniel’s voice frantic with worry.

“It’s all good Daniel,” Julia replies as she holds the phone flat on her palm, “Just a little scare.” She turns her head towards you with a shit-eating grin and you flip her off as you chug down the unfortunately boring just water, “We’ll be moving out soon so make sure you’re ready.” The call ends with a final beep and the phone disappears into a pocket somewhere on Julia’s person as she turns back to you, “You have a good chat?” she asks as she slides closer.

“It was… enlightening in a way,” you reply as you look her in the eye, “Gave me some things to think about before we get to the ranch.” You quickly scarf down the rest of the bag before extending your arm palm up, “Painkillers. Please and thank you.” Julia chuckles and deposits the small round pills on your palm which you quickly swallow and wash down before settling back into your throne of plush, “If I’m lucky these will keep me high enough in the clouds that I won’t have to endure your driving.” You throw the joking words out there and are met with a quick kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and smile and when you open them again Julia is already back in the driver’s seat.

“Come on,” she laughs as the van rumbles to life, “My driving isn’t that bad!”

“Just make sure to avoid any more potholes unless you want to have to clean vomit out of these sheets.” But you’re grinning as you speak and Julia laughs once again.

“Noted.” Her chuckle causes shivers down your spine and sends your heart fluttering in your chest before the van begins forwards and you brace yourself against the quick jolt. Finally on the move. As the sound of crunching gravel changes to the jumbling rattle of the not quite flat-topped tarmac, parts of your conversation with Daniel are brought to your foremind.

Friends.

You roll your head to look at Julia and maybe it’s that you’re feeling particularly thankful, or perhaps it’s the painkillers starting their sluggish path through your system. But you’re feeling soft. Too soft. And that’s dangerous at the best of times but right now, in the back of a van and on the run with the woman you love maybe you can allow yourself to feel as such.

“Hey Jules?” Your voice sounds quiet to your own ears.

“Hmm?” comes the half-distracted reply.

“Thank you.”

#annie kane #julia ortega #daniel sullivan #chargestep #fhr #fallen hero #fallen hero retribution #give me your honest opinions #but like #be kind about it #😅

[meh21volleyball2018]

Lydia

Summary: A fiction piece I wrote for English about a Norse Godess' banishment. This is the first chapter and I can post more if people want it.

Lydia walked briskly through the frigid mid-November air, coffee in hand and scarf tied securely around her neck. She took a sip, the hot drink warming her bones and the sweet flavor giving her more energy for the day ahead. Lydia kept moving forward to the museum where she worked. Walking into the back office and clocking in, Lydia started the mundane tasks of her regular job. Put the uniform on, watch the cameras for fifteen minutes, then walk around the exhibits, searching for misbehavior. Repeat until lunch and go through that monotony cycle for a few more hours before going home. It was a regular nine-to-five job that paid decently. Enough to keep her afloat but not much else. 

After watching the cameras, as usual, Lydia got up and went through the museum. Greek artifacts, ancient tomes, and even an armory were among the priceless items held on the display. There was a section of the museum where children could use wooden swords and prop armor to fight against each other. Lydia walked over to the kids’ area to ensure the museum’s attendant handled things appropriately. 

“Now, don’t forget we will work together, so both teams get ready. And charge!” The children ran full force at the mannequins, the opposing “army,” using all their might to eradicate their enemies. Chuckling softly to herself, Lydia moved on, meandering past each display, one by one. 

Breaking glass and a siren rang out. Spotting where the crash had come from, Lydia pushed between panicking crowds and gazed at the destruction before her. Immediately reaching for the walkie-talkie clipped to her belt, she connected to the front desk security guard. “Kane! What the hell is going on up there!” Said the rough voice of Edwin Mulciber.

 “One of the paintings has been stolen, one of the Norse gods.”   

“Looks like the guy headed out of the West entrance, don’t let him get away, Kane.” 

She was off, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Lydia saw the man with the painting. How did he expect to get away with that? A large oil painting of Norse gods fighting in Ragnarok, the end of the world. He rushed through the alley, pushing the few people that were in his way. He was fast, but the obstacles the thief faced did not hinder Lydia. Gaining quickly, Lydia made one leap right onto the perpetrator’s back. 

Tumbling together in a mess of limbs, the man pushed Lydia off him, the painting lying between the two. His hood had fallen, revealing a familiar face. “Sunna, is that you?”

Confusion crossed the girl’s features, “no… I need that painting back. It’s museum property.”. 

Taken aback by her words, the man spoke again, “Sunna. It is I, your brother, Måni, do you not remember,” he looked down and muttered, “Odin will pay for this.” 

By now, Lydia was apprehensively able to grab the painting and put it under her arm, ready to bolt at any chance. “I don’t know any real person named Odin, but I can assure you, he didn’t do anything to me. And again, my name is not Sunna. It’s Lydia.” 

Måni shook his head, still looking down, disappointment and anger evident on his face. Mumbling under his breath, Lydia slowly started returning to the museum. His eyes snapped up to hers, holding each other’s gaze for a second before Lydia turned on her heel and ran.

“Wait!” Måni cried, starting to go after her, when another person emerged from the shadows. 

“That is not wise, young god. Odin wishes for her punishment to be served, and it shall stay that way until the Allfather says otherwise.” The tall figure came and placed a hand on Måni’s shoulder.

“What do you suggest I do?”

“Do what I do, make mischief, of course.” Said the figure with an impish grin.

#original fiction #oneshot #open ending

[sickbaysaturdays]

Deep in the Desert

@solacearchive

Lance Corporal Flynn must lead a team through the desert on a simple mission.  But the twin suns of the planet Harah are merciless, and not everyone takes the heat well …

I was sweating down the backs of my knees. 

Even stripped down to BDU pants and a T-shirt, I was still being baked alive by the double suns over Harah. According to the bartender at the canteen, this was spring, perfect weather for sitting outside and enjoying drinks and snacks.

At least Medic was going off-script and having some fun for once. In the two weeks since Commander Giroux had assigned me to sickbay, I’d seen Medic smile maybe twice. Here, she and Lucan leaned over a table and a plate of snacks, swapping elaborate stories peppered with medical words I didn’t know and laughing periodically.

To my other side at the bar, Gunnery Sergeant Wong, jacket knotted at her waist, idly crunched her way through a bowl of complimentary nuts and gazed at the hypnotic desert horizon. The center table was occupied by a couple of infantry guys whose sense of humor could use some work.

“I’ll have another,” I said, catching the bartender’s eye. He nodded and set a cloudy mason jar containing a beverage of dubious origin on the bar in front of me.

“Thanks.” I took the beverage and left some cash in its place.

Even with the inhospitable weather, this was what it was about. Dubious beverages, good company, all in a nice lazy day on leave.

I should have known it was too good to last.

Every party on dirtside leave needs to have one person with a radio. Gunny Wong, being the ranking member of our group, had the honors this time.

“Hey, Flynn.” She tapped the bar next to me, radio in her other hand. “Commander wants a word.”

“Great,” I muttered. At least my dubious beverage didn’t taste alcoholic.

Gunny propped the radio up on the bar and fiddled with it until the tiny screen resolved into an image of Commander Giroux, complete with the impossibly starched uniform and impossibly tight hair. 

She’d taken her appointment as provisional commander of the captured patrol ship very seriously.

“Lance Corporal Flynn?” That upper-class accent didn’t sound like hers at all.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“I need you to run an errand for me while you’re planetside. Do you know Madalyn Kane?”

The bespectacled Intersystem Human Rights Court lawyer who’d been tagging along with us, taking statements and filing affidavits and stuff with the courts back home. “Yes, sir.”

“I need you to take her and a medic out to a mining camp eighty kilometers west of Harah City,” Giroux said, enunciation painfully prim. “Attorney Kane needs formal statements from the residents and a medical report of any injuries or deaths that occurred under the Imperium.”

I thought for a second. Lucan knew all too well how to do those reports, but I also didn’t feel great about leaving Medic here by herself. “Sir,” I said, “with your permission, I’d like to bring both the patrol ship medic and Lucan. They’re both here, and I’m sure Lucan could use the help.”

Commander Giroux frowned briefly, but she said, “Very well. Take a six-wheel and pick up Attorney Kane at the landing strip in an hour.”

The screen blinked into darkness. There went my leave time.

“Well, it’s been good,” I said to Gunny.

“I’ll keep a seat open for you,” she promised. “Good hunting.”

There was the usual disagreement about who would drive the sixer (me, because Lucan’s license didn’t cover this type of vehicle), and who would ride shotgun (Madalyn Kane, once we picked her up, because Medic and Lucan wanted to keep talking shop while we drove).

“How come there aren’t any seatbelts?” Medic asked, pulling the door to the back seat closed.

“So you can bail out quicker if we hit a roadside bomb,” I explained.

“Oh. But if we crash into anything . . ?”

“There’s nothing out here to crash into,” Lucan said, gesturing at the rolling hills of burnt orange sand in all directions.  “What did the Imperials even want with this place?”

“Minerals,” Medic responded, as I keyed the ignition and headed for the landing strip. “Just below the surface. A couple of the guys on the Enforcer were stationed here when they conquered the place. It was easy since they need to import everything from off-planet. Control the supply lines, control Harah.”

On that uplifting note, we found Madalyn Kane at the landing strip, scurrying off her shuttle with her briefcase clutched under one arm. By the time she’d made it the two hundred yards to the sixer and deposited herself in the passenger’s seat next to me, the wind had pulled her hair out of its pins, and her blouse had sweat stains forming in unflattering places.

“So, you’re my ride?” she asked, giving it the ring of an awkward joke.

“Yes’m,” I said. “You comfortable? Need more air conditioning?”

Madalyn shook her head and smoothed her skirt down over her knees. Good, because the AC was already at maximum and not doing much against the heat. 

What most people don’t understand is that “military-grade” means “manufactured as cheaply as possible by whoever bid low enough to get the contract.”

I steered us out of the parking lot and, following the GPS on my dashboard, into the desert.

Once the canteens and shantytowns and air-conditioned prefabs of Harah City were out of sight, nothing but the sweeping burnt orange dunes of the Harahan desert surrounded us. As I flicked my eyes between mirrors and horizon, I tried not to feel claustrophobic. Despite the lukewarm AC, sweat crawled down my chest and lower back.

“Not from the desert, huh, Flynn?” Lucan commented, as I wiped my face on my sleeve.

“Nope,” I said. “The Cruciad highlands. It’s crisp and rainy almost all year round.” Great for livestock, lousy for us. The quintessential highlands look was a hooded rain slicker and thigh-high muck boots.

“Sounds nice,” Madalyn murmured. “I mean, compared to …” she trailed off and nodded out the window.

We had another hour left until we hit the mining camp. Madalyn had her briefcase open on her lap and was typing furiously. Lucan tried to strike up a conversation, asked where everybody was from and what they wanted to do after all this was over, the usual small talk questions. 

Nobody was really into it. The heat had wilted us like underwatered crops.

I did learn that Medic was a desert native, from Kumitan’s Cappadine Valley.

“It’s kind of like this, but the sand’s green from copper oxide, and there’s mountains on all sides,” she told us. 

Medic didn’t talk about her home much. I’d offered to help her look for her parents and friends and see who survived the invasion, but she’d declined, saying she didn’t want to know yet.

The dashboard instruments put us fifteen minutes from the mining camp, which was a relief since the AC had been steadily waning since we passed the last set of dunes. At this rate, we’d have just enough fuel to—

Hold up. I tapped the dashboard; pointless since it was all digital anyway. The one gauge I didn’t need to worry about, and the needle hovered just above the E.  I downshifted and came to a stop between two dunes.

“What’s the holdup?” Lucan asked.

I gestured to the dashboard. “We are out of gas.”

“We had a full tank when we left,” Medic pointed out. “I saw the dial. How’d we run out so fast?”

We had a leak in the fuel line. A slow one, but it was getting worse, and in the scorching desert heat, the drops of fuel had evaporated before I noticed the trail we’d left behind.

“Doesn’t anybody inspect these things?” Lucan muttered. He was lying on his back, wrapping medical tape and plastic wrap around the leak. “I’m the other kind of mechanic, but this line looks corroded as hell. There, that should hold for now. Pull me out?”

Medic and I each grabbed an ankle and hauled Lucan out from under the sixer. He stood up, brushing dust off his coveralls.

“What are we going to do now?” Madalyn asked, hugging her briefcase to herself as she watched the proceedings.

“We’re going to drive the sixer until the fuel runs out,” I said, “and if it runs out before we get to the mining camp, we hike it.”

The fuel held out for another ten minutes, longer than I’d expected. But finally, the engine sputtered to a halt, dashboard gauges blinking furiously. Everybody turned and stared at me.

“I hope you all are wearing close-toed shoes,” I said.

Medic and Lucan filled a backpack each with water and first aid supplies. I had the big tactical pack with the survival gear and extra cartridges for my sidearm, and we put together a smaller, lighter bag with extra water and sunscreen for Madalyn, who insisted on helping.

And with that, we set off into the shimmering desert, which promptly swallowed us whole. As we walked, our feet sent up puffs of dust, and every breath scorched my sinuses. A few stalwart cactoids poked their spiky heads above the sand, but other than that, the landscape was a sun-scorched blank canvas.

Now I understood why people say that the sun beats down on things. I could feel my skin heating up under my BDUs and head covering. Medic had a sunscarf she’d bought in the city, but the rest of us made do with reflective fabric from the survival pack wrapped around our heads and necks. And sunscreen, lots of sunscreen. The Harahan suns could burn you through a shirt.

Back in training during our all-terrain warfare unit, the instructor had said that faraway objects in the desert tended to be about three times farther away than you perceive them. I was starting to see what he meant. We spent what felt like hours trekking towards the pass between two wide dunes, and it never seemed to get any closer. 

My pack was getting heavier, and my clothes were swampy with sweat. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and then doing it again.

Nobody talked. Madalyn shifted her briefcase from hand to hand and trotted a few steps, determined to keep pace with us military folks. Medic and Lucan plodded along in front of her, gripping their backpack straps and occasionally sipping from their water bottles.

We stopped and took five, inhaling water and wiping sweat from our faces. I checked the handheld GPS. We’d been walking for a thousand years, and we were less than halfway there.

I poured more water into myself, spilling some down my chin in my haste. It mixed with the sweat already plastering my entire body. I itched to take off my jacket, but that would only earn me an enormous sunburn. Another sip of water, and then we got moving again. 

Someone had once told me that you could survive soaring temperatures just fine if you drank enough water. I was trying to remember who that was so I could have resentful feelings towards them.

“Let’s take five,” I said, even though we’d just taken a break. The words came out sounding funny. My pulse hammered through my neck and chest until I could feel it behind my eyes. I took a knee on the sand, moved scorching air in and out of my lungs. I just needed a little break.

“Ah, Corporal, are you alright?” Madalyn Kane was standing next to me, and I meant to tell her yeah, I was fine, all systems go, and we really should get moving.

But the words got lost somewhere between my brain and my throat, and the next thing I was aware of was Lucan yelling, “Get their jacket off!”

Hands surrounded me, pulling at my clothes and laying me down on the hot sand. Someone said something about a shade tarp, and I heard a crinkling sound followed by a soft coolness on my now-bare skin.

Medic was talking, but the words made no sense. 

I tried to tell her that I was fine now and this was all unnecessary, but my throat still wasn’t cooperating. Sharp cold touched my neck, and I flinched. First too hot and then too cold. I felt Lucan’s big hand pulling my arms out so Medic could put more cold between them and my chest.

Fortunately for me, reality blurred aggressively before either of them could break out the needles.

When things started making sense again, I was lying on cold stone. A bag of something yellow and translucent ran down a line into my arm. Someone had stripped me out of my BDUs, boots, and socks, leaving me in just a T-shirt and shorts. I hoped Lucan had the sense to secure my sidearm properly.

I tried to move, but that was too hard. Speaking was still a non-starter. Everything felt like slow motion, and that was okay because I was okay lying here on the cool rock, breathing out and in and out again, receiving my dubious beverage intravenously this time.

Soft footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and a Harahan man in his fifties sat next to me.

“Are you with us?” he asked in a low, gentle voice.

I nodded.

“Can you speak?”

“Mmmm,” I groaned. Sounds, that was good, but words still failed me.

“Your friends brought you here,” he explained, and I heard water being poured. “I’m Rhys. I live outside of town. They’d done everything they could for you, but you were sunsick, and everyone knows the only cure for that is a dark, cold place. Here, sit up a little.”

He put a folded blanket under my head and shoulders and held a cup of cold water to my lips. The taste was mineral-y, but I managed three sips before I started coughing.

“Okay, I guess that’s enough.” He set the cup down. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” I managed. My voice came out thick and muffled. “Others?”

“A little sunsburnt, but in one piece. Worried about you, especially the smaller medic, the one who doesn’t go by her name. Why’s that, anyway?”

I worked my tongue around in my mouth until it loosened up. “She’s from Kumitan. They don’t use names when they’re working.”

His face grew grave. “Kumitan, what a tragedy. I heard about it on the news while the Imperials were still on Harah. When I was in—there’s no need to get into that. Have some more water.”

Rhys helped me drink the rest of the water, and I managed not to spill too much of it down my front.

“Thanks,” I said. I tried to sit up the rest of the way.

“Hold on.” Rhys put a hand on my shoulder, kind but commanding. “The small medic was very clear that I wasn’t to let you up until she examined you. She says you’re stubborn.”

This wasn’t exactly true, but one of Medic’s first encounters with the great Lance Corporal Flynn involved a laser burn that had gotten infected after I decided that daily bandage changes were overkill and I could make do with once a week. There was no use arguing.

“Why don’t you live with everyone else?” I asked. It had been bothering me since my brain had cooled off enough to think. Even Lucan couldn’t have carried me far in the heat. Rhys must live in the middle of nowhere.

“I prefer it,” he said. “I—after the Imperials left, well, Harah City didn’t agree with me at all. Too much noise, too many people. I came out here for some peace. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” I’d fantasized about doing the same thing if I ever made it back to Crucia. No more combat gear or laser bolts or ship-to-ship boardings, just a life of comfort and peace and the constant drizzling rain of the highlands.

Rhys leaned against the adobe wall, knees drawn up to his chest. “One of your companions, the woman with the briefcase?”

“Madalyn Kane, she’s with IHRC.”

“She asked if I would sign a statement about what happened to me during the occupation. She-she asked if I would let her take a photograph of what they did to me, to show in court.” His hands fumbled with his clothing, pulling the folds of his robe tight around his chest and shoulders. I’d seen enough Imperial torture victims to know what kind of scars were probably under the fabric.

“You don’t have to,” I told him. “Not unless you’re ready.”

He rested his wrists on his knees. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be. Can you tell her—?”

“Of course. I’ll make sure no one bothers you about it.”

“Thank you.”

Medic’s exam verified that I was, in fact, alive and none the worse for wear despite my encounter with the blazing suns of Harah. She still made me finish my IV, which was plasma, she said, to prevent my blood from going clumpy in the heat.

“You scared us there,” she said, unwrapping the blood pressure cuff. “Okay, looks like your vitals are in range. I just need to draw some blood and make sure you’re not coagulopathic or having an inflammatory response—don’t worry, I can use your IV.”

I relaxed a bit. Needles.

Once Medic had spun down my blood and found no trace of glue paths or flimflams, I looked away while she took my IV out and joined the others at Rhys’s dinner table.

“She takes good care of you,” Lucan commented. “I wasn’t sure about her at first, to be perfectly honest, but her medical skills are impressive.”

I had to agree. I barely had a bruise where she’d taken the IV out.

A few quick words to Madalyn got her to drop the subject of taking a statement from our host. Instead, I recorded his cabin’s position on the handheld GPS, promising to drop off some food and water on our way back, saving him a supply run.

“It’s the least we can do,” I insisted, when he started to protest.

“Very well. Just delete the coordinates once you’ve done this, please?”

“Of course.” I knew how much Rhys valued his solitude.

Medic, being the desert warrior of us, volunteered to take the borrowed jerry can of fuel back to the abandoned sixer. My marching orders, however, were to stick to her like glue (i.e., the whole reason she was on this mission in the first place). And if I was coming, so was Lucan in case I passed out again, and then there was no point in leaving Madalyn by herself.

So we all said goodbye to Rhys, who saw us off from his cactoid garden. We walked back out into the desert, a step at a time, until there was nothing around us but sand.

#ss desert planet #thank you! #fic

[cigarettesmokerkaite]

Few drinks

Summary: your friend miles invites you out for a few drinks with his girlfriend and alex later on you and alex end up at your house repeating the past

(Smut)

Word count/1377

❥┈┈┈•˼͝ʹ͜ ˓̇͜∙͡∘ ∘͡∙̇͜˓ ͜ʹ͝˼•┈┈┈❥

One of my closest friends miles invited me out for a few drink with Alex and his girlfriend anna-lee

I wore a black dress that goes up mid thigh some doc martens I've never been one for high  heels and a leather jacket

I walked into the bar to hear miles before I could see him I approach him

"Miles fucking Kane ya Wanker" I shouted

"Y/n fookin Y/l/n you dickhead" he shouted back we gave each other a hug and I gave Anna-lee a hug and I gave Alex a hug

"Alright Y/n how yeh been it's been a while since I saw yeh" he said pulling back from the hug it was true I hadn't seen Alex for about a year after we hooked up we didn't tell miles though

"Yeah good same as usual what about you" I said

"Yeah joost in the middle of recording an album wif this dickhead 'ere" he said moving his head to miles laughing I joined in

"I'm going to get a drink you want anything" I asked the table

"Another pint and a vodka soda for Anna-lee" miles said

"Alright Alex" I said

"I'll just come wif yeh" he said I nodded

We got to the bar "want to do shots first" I asked grinning

"Sneaky" Alex teased

"What can I say Alexander" I raised my hands in defeat

The barman came up to us and asked what we're ordering

"A tray of shots please strongest you have" I said

"Strongest" Alex asked

"Yeah to you know loosen up a bit" I said

The barman came with the tray of shots there must of been about 26 there

"Ready we down then all as fast as we can" I said

"Right parteh animal aren't yeh luv"

"What can I say" I chuckled

We downed all the shots and ordered miles and Anna-lee's drinks and our own and a another 2 trays of shots we took the four drinks and headed to the table and waited on the shots

"The fook took you two long" miles asked

"We did shots" I said feeling a slight buzz

"Alex Let's see who can drink the pint the fastest" I said

"Yehr on miles who do yeh fink would win" Alex asked

"I think Alex" miles said to wind me up

"Only one way to fine out" I said

We counted to three and chugged the pint but I was a sip behind Alex

"Get in" Alex celebrated by doing a little dance

The shots finally came

"A tray for you two and a tray for us" I said

After a few hours we called it a night

I didn't want the night to be over not with Alex anyway "Alex do you want to go and get more booze" I asked slurring my words a bit

"Why not" we both found a shop that sold booze a little bit later then they should

"A litre of vodka please" I asked trying to seem somewhat sober

"That would be £21.50 I payed the man and headed out

Alex called a taxi to his address

As we were driving Alex whispers in my ear "I miss us two being alone" I whimpered at the memory

"Is that so" I smirked

Alex placed a kiss below my ear before kissing my neck sucking biting I bit my lip to stop any noise from escaping my lips

Finally the taxi stopped at Alex's house and he payed the man and we got out as we stumbled into Alex's house I kicked the doors shut behind me

Alex pushed my against the door and smashed his lips on mine

"Mhmm babeh I missed this so much" he mumbled

I hummed in agreement Alex placed a hand on my hip and the other at the back of my neck

He kissed down my jaw making his way to my neck

I felt myself getting wetter by his movements

"Shall we take this teh the bedroom luv" he mumbled into my neck

"Oh god yes" I moaned as he found my sweet spot

We stumbled into the bedroom I still had the vodka in my hand Alex pushed me on the bed I propped myself up of my elbows

He smirked at me "yehr so fookin beautiful

Y/n" he said pecking my lips again he got back up and stood infront of me a unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his black slacks and pulled his boxers down his member was already hard I gave him a few tugs before taking him in my mouth

Letting him sink through my lips i bobbed my head Alex hand made it's way into my hair and guided me where he wanted me most

"That's it babeh joist like tha' suck mEh cock" he groaned cusses and praises leaving his lips along with low moans and grunts and groans

I felt him twitch in my mouth which caused me to hallow my cheeks and take him deeper tears him my eyes I'm trying my best not to gag but with my luck I gaged I thought he wouldn't like it or something but he must've liked it since she groaned and his hot release in the mouth

He tilted my chin up to look at him "swallow" he commanded I did as told as swallowed his cum and showed him I obeyed him "good girl"

He removed my jacket and dress leaving me in my underwear while he was naked he kissed my lips again he slid his tongue into my mouth as he used one hand to hold himself up and the other moving my underwear to the side

He effortlessly found my clit and started massaging it in circular motions cause me to whimper giving me pleasure but not exactly what I'm wanting "Alex please" I said

Alex slid in two digits causing me to moan

"Alex please" I begged

"What do yeh want tell mEh babeh" he said smirking as he fucked me with his fingers

"I-I oh god i want you to fuck me" I said

"You'll cum first then I'll fook yeh" he said causing me to moan his thumb played with my clit as his fingers worked inside me I felt my self coming close

"Oh Alex I'm close" I whimpered

"Let go babeh" he said

I clenched around his fingers my legs shaking as his fingers rode out my orgasm

"Now I'm gunna fook yeh" he said as he lined up with my entrance without warning he slammed into me my eyes rolled to the back of my head and I moaned loudly

"Fook yer so tight and wet for mEh luv fookin stunnin babeh" he said slamming deeper and harder into me

"Alex fuck" I moaned

My nails digging into his back

"I'm close" I moaned out

"MEh too babeh cum wif mEh" he said rubbing my clit

A few seconds later my second orgasm washed over me my legs shaking around him this triggered his own and he came inside me

He collapsed on top of me out of breath

My breathing heavy and uneven

After a few seconds Alex lifted his head up

"Yeah want another go" he said smirking

"Yes" I flipped is over "this time I'm on top"

I started kissing his neck leaving love bites

My hips bounced on him groans leaving his lips like music to my ears

"Oh fook I can't last like this" he moaned

I was already close I could feel Alex twitch inside me his hips meeting mine as I bounced on his lap my legs already sore and shaking Alex grabbed my hips and guided me to bounce on him

After a few more bounces I came for a third time Alex came shortly after I collapsed on him this time both panting and sweating

I got off Alex I whimpered at the feeling of the emptiness and laid next to Alex's on his bed

"That were amazing luv" he said

I giggled and pecked his jaw as he pulled me closer to him my head on his chest I drifted off to have the best sleep I had in a while

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #mileskane #alex turner imagine #am #favourite worst nightmare #fwn #humbug #jamie cook #matt helders #nick omalley #whatever people say i am that's what i'm not #wpsiatwin #suck it and see #sias #tbhc #tranquillitybasehotelandcasino #the last shadow puppets #tlsp #alexturneroneshots #alex turner one shots #age of the understatement #everything you've come to expect #eycte #alex turner x fem reader #alex turner x reader

[misswarmnights]

Keep Them Smiling

Fandom: The 100

Summary: A young nursing aide cheers up Kane and Jaha while they’re stuck in medical bay.

Characters: Marcus Kane, Thelonious Jaha, Abby Griffin, Original Female Character

Warnings: Tickling, Fluff

Word Count: 912

Individual accidents had landed Marcus Kane and Thelonious Jaha in the medical bay at the same time. Kane had sprained his right ankle. Jaha had a bump on the head. After a checkup, Abby Griffin determined that they had suffered only minor injuries and could soon return to work, but she wanted them to remain in medical bay for a while – just to make sure they were alright.

“You both need to rest,” Abby told them.

They knew she was right, but still…neither man wanted to be there.

“Pam,” Abby called to her staff. “Bring Kane a cold compress for his ankle and change his dressing.”

Pam Bronson was an eighteen-year-old nursing aide. She was new on the job and thrilled to be working with Abby Griffin. Pam had a friendly smile, a light dusting of freckles on her nose, and strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a conservative bun.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Pam fetched the cold compress for Kane whose hurt foot was propped up on pillows for elevation. Jaha already had an ice pack on his head. The two men sat side by side. They had each other to talk to, but neither of them looked very happy.

Pam wanted to cheer them up. She told them some funny jokes that she had heard recently. After a few minutes, Kane and Jaha lightened up and chuckled a bit.

She loved to make people smile and laugh. She believed that keeping patients cheery was a very important part of medical care. So, the young lady was more than happy to stay and entertain the men.

“How did you both get hurt?” she asked.

There was a moment of silence as Kane and Jaha looked at each other, both clearly a little embarrassed about what had happened.

Finally, Jaha spoke up.

“Let’s just say that we’re a couple of clumsy oxes,” he said with a half-smile.

“I see…Well, anyway, like Dr. Griffin said, you both need lots of rest and relaxation and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

She brought them each a drink of water and made sure they were comfortable. Then, she sat down with Kane to change his dressing.

“You remind me of Florence Nightingale,” Jaha commented. “She was the greatest nurse of them all.”

“I would love to be a doctor someday,” Pam said as she wrapped the bandage around Kane’s ankle. The bandage covered half of his foot, leaving his toes and the ball of his foot exposed.

“Is that so?”

“Yep! I’ve dreamed about being a doctor since I was a little girl.”

“Well, I think you’re off to a great start,” Kane said.

As Pam looked at Kane’s bare foot, she began to wonder if he might be ticklish.

“Never give up on your dreams, Pam,” Jaha encouraged her.

She smiled at Jaha and then looked back at Kane. After replacing the bandage, she held the ice pack in place on his ankle.

“That feels good,” Kane said as he closed his eyes and laid his head back to relax.

Pam’s curiosity got the best of her, and she began tickling his toes with her index finger.

Kane was indeed very ticklish, and he burst out laughing.

“Oh no! Please don’t!” Kane squealed.

Pam started laughing, too. Jaha watched with a smirk on his face. How unusual and enjoyable it was to see Kane squirming and laughing uncontrollably.

“Get him, Pam. Get him!” Jaha cheered her on.

“Tickle, tickle,” Pam teased, now tickling his tummy with both hands.

Kane grabbed her wrists and tried to push her hands away, but her fingers kept on wiggling against his stomach. He threw his head back and howled with laughter while begging for her to stop.

Pam stopped tickling, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing in mischievous delight. Sometimes she would meet children who were feeling down or grumpy, and she loved to cheer them up with tickles. This was the first time she had done it to a grown man.

“What’s going on here?” Abby demanded.

Pam spun around to face her boss. Her smile disappeared.

“I’m entertaining the patients, Dr. Griffin.”

“We have other patients here that need attention,” Abby reminded her.

“Right. I’m sorry,” Pam said, blushing a bit.

Abby watched her go, and then Abby turned her focus to Jaha and Kane.

“She’s a nice girl,” Jaha said.

Kane caught his breath and smiled sheepishly. “And she’s a tickler, too.”

Jaha chuckled. “Marcus, I never knew you were so ticklish.”

“My mother used to tickle me when I was a little boy,” Kane said, sighing happily as he recalled the warm memories. “It was lots of fun.”

Abby cracked a sly smile. She did think that was kind of cute.

“Well, anyway, how are you both feeling now?” she inquired.

Jaha reached up to feel the bump on his head. “I’ll have a bump on the head for a while, but at least my headache is gone.”

“My ankle is feeling better,” Kane said, wiggling his toes. “I think I could walk on it…”

“Just the same, I would prefer you both continue to take it easy…but you’re both going to be just fine.”

As Pam went on with her work, she smiled to herself. The young nursing aide felt happy knowing that she had made two of her patients smile. As cheesy as it may sound, to keep them smiling would always remain her favorite part of the job.

The End

#the 100 #the 100 fic #tickle fic #tickle fluff #tickling #ticklish #ticklish feet #ticklish belly #marcus kane #thelonious jaha #abby griffin #oc female #original female character #tickle #fluff #cheer up #nursing #minor injuries #one shot #short story #fiction #cuteness #the 100 tickle #funny #fanfic #the 100 fanfiction

[pennylanefics]

Forgotten - Finn Cole

a/n: this is kinda like a fic i did a while back, except the roles are reversed: finn is the one to lose his memory. also sorry for the lack of fics. mindless behavior and roc royal’s fine self have taken over me again 😂 and school sucks

warnings: mentions of accident, injuries. not proof-read, whoops

•••

One call changed your life for the near future, or for forever.

Finn had gone out to a few bars with his friends, needing the night to let go and have fun after a few long months of non-stop filming. You were more than happy to let him go out, seeing as he’s been super stressed and overwhelmed, so he deserved a night off.

It was about one in the morning, and you were still up, wanting to make sure that Finn got home safely, let alone he got home at all. You were laying in bed, playing on your phone, when a call interrupted you. It was one of Finn’s friends that he was out with.

“Hey Will, what’s up?” You ask, sitting up in bed.

“(Y/N), Finn! He-he, I don’t-I can’t,” he stutters out, sounding like he was sobbing.

“Will! What’s wrong with Finn?!” Your heart was racing and you were terrified.

“He got h-hit and he’s really hurt!” Your blood runs cold and time freezes.

“How hurt?” You were surprisingly calm, but you knew as soon as you saw him, you would lose it.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. Kane Central Hospital.” Within seconds, you are getting dressed and rushing out of your flat, driving as fast as you can to the hospital. Running in, you quickly find his friends waiting near the door.

“(Y/N)!” CJ calls out. You stride over to him and he brings you into a hug, and that’s when you break. Seeing them crying and nervous, you knew it wasn’t good.

“What happened?” You mumble through tears as you pull away, though CJ keeps you close. You two have always been good friends since you met because of Finn, and he was also the most sober one of the group.

“We were all standing around, waiting for the Uber to show up. We were on the corner of a street, when a car came out of nowhere and hit him and Aaron,” Will explains softly. “They were drunk and rightfully arrested.”

You were speechless, you couldn’t say anything. All you did was shrink closer to CJ, wanting nothing more than to see your boyfriend and make sure he’s okay.

“They didn’t say how critical he is, but he was unconscious the entire time, from when he was hit to when he was taken away in the ambulance,” CJ mumbles. His hands rub your bicep to comfort you,

“Can we see him?”

“They said they would come get us when he wakes up, or when he’s resting. We don’t know what his condition is.” You three take a seat in the waiting room chairs, tears silently streaming down your cheeks.

“How was your night before?” You wonder after a couple hours of nothing. You were growing extremely worried. Shouldn’t he be up by now?

“It was great,” Will smiles. “He seemed to be having a lot of fun.”

“He hasn’t had a break in a while. He’s been filming Peaky Blinders for a month and every night, he comes home so tense and overworked. He loves it, but he definitely needed this break.”

“He was enjoying it, but he couldn’t stop talking about you,” CJ steps in. Heat rises to your cheeks at his words, the idea of Finn gushing about you making you fall more in love with him.

“Yeah. He was looking forward to taking you on a trip to France once filming wrapped.” More tears fall down your cheeks and at that moment, a doctor walks up to you guys.

“Are you the ones here for Mr. Cole?” He asks. You stand within seconds, but CJ holds you back.

“Yes, we are,” he says. “Is he okay?”

“Right now, he’s awake, thankfully. He went right into surgery upon arrival, they assessed his broken ribs and internal bleeding. After he got out, he was responding well to treatment and we weren’t expecting him to wake up so soon. But there is a problem. He has amnesia.” Your expression drops even more as you, Will, and CJ look between one another.

“How serious is it?”

“He remembers nothing. He knows his name, he knows his age, he doesn’t know the date or month, but he does know the year. If you would come with me to see if he remembers you three, that will help us know how serious his case is.” Nodding, you follow him to the room your boyfriend is in. CJ and Will were close by you, ready to hold you or grab you when you break down.

“Hello again, Finn. How are you feeling?” Finn’s expression stays the same as he responds to the doctor.

“That’s good. I’m going to ask you a few more questions. Do you recognize any of these people?” He gestures to you three, standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. Finn furrows his eyebrows, trying hard to remember.

“No.” His simple response shatters your heart. He doesn’t remember you.

“You don’t know me, Finn?” You whisper. You could feel your tears getting ready to fall from your eyes as you watch him shake his head.

“I don’t. Are you...a friend? A cousin?” CJ wraps his arm around you comfortingly, allowing you to cry against him.

“I’m your girlfriend, Finn. We’ve been together for four years,” your voice breaks towards the end. He looks apologetic and sad, wanting to remember you.

“I’m sorry. You’re very pretty, though.” Chuckling through sobs, you remove CJ’s arms from you and storm out of the room, not wanting him to see you cry.

“Hey,” Will’s soothing voice follows you. “It’ll be okay.” He pulls you in for a hug as you break down, sobbing and whimpering that you hate everything.

“I want my boyfriend back,” you whisper once you calm down.

“He’ll get back to how he was. I know it. It may take some time, but I know he’ll remember you.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Don’t think like that, hun. The doctor is saying that he should be back to normal eventually.”

“How long is eventually, huh?” WIll sighs and strokes your hair, not knowing enough to comfort you.

“I’m not sure, darling.”

Finn was kept in the hospital for a couple weeks, just to make sure his ribs were healing correctly, and to monitor any more internal bleeding. But when he got home, it was very heartbreaking.

Aaron had come with Will and CJ to drop Finn off, offering to do so because they knew you were going to be too emotional to drive back. Aaron had walked away with a broken leg, so he was better and had been released days later.

“(Y/N)?” CJ calls out as they step inside. Finn was limping due to his fractured ankle. Will was helping him since he couldn’t use crutches because of his ribs. He gently takes a seat on the couch, propping his leg up. You come walking in, nervous for what was to come.

“Hey guys,” you smile, hugging them. Your eyes then land on Finn, who was already staring at you. He offers a small grin, then quickly averts his gaze.

“Uh, we’ll be okay, if you want to go,” you say to the guys. CJ walks over to you and rubs your back.

“Are you sure? We can stay for however long you need?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, right Finn?” You ask. He looks taken aback, not expecting to be brought into the conversation.

“Yeah, uh. I think.” Sighing softly, you hug CJ, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” You nod and they all leave your apartment, leaving you and Finn in a very awkward situation.

“Um, do you want anything to eat? Drink?” You ask Finn. He glances at you for a moment before nodding.

“Do you have mac and cheese? That was my favorite food at the hospital and I’m craving it right now.” Giggling, you walk to the kitchen and get started on making a box. While it heats up, you sit with Finn in the living room.

“So, are you feeling better?” You wonder. You kept your distance from him, sitting in the recliner adjacent from him.

“Yeah. It’s still hard to breathe, and I’m already sick of the cast, but I’ll get through it.”

“That’s good. How many ribs did you end up breaking?”

“I’m not sure. I thought they said three, but I don’t know if they meant one side or altogether. Everything’s been super jumbled in my mind.” You feel a pang in your heart at his words, and he notices your change in mood right away.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he whispers.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” He smiles thankfully and tries to situate himself to get more comfortable. You are up within seconds, sensing his struggle. You move a couple pillows around so he can sit up, making sure that his leg is still propped up.

“Is that better?” You question.

“Yeah, thank you.” Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you go back to the kitchen to check on the mac and cheese, staying there for a few minutes after you pour the noodles in. Your cheeks were wet with tears because of how close you got to Finn.

Sure, it seemed like nothing, but you haven’t been with him in two weeks, and now that you are, it’s not the same Finn that you knew.

“(Y/N)?” Finn calls out. You run back to where he was laying, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just, uh, I wanted to ask you something?”

“What is it?” You sit back down.

“When did we first meet?” He wonders. A smile creeps onto your lips and you keep your eyes on your hands.

“We met at the season three premiere of the show you star in, Peaky Blinders.”

“Are you on the show?”

“No. I was at the premiere with my dad, who is a producer for the show. I knew no one there, so I was standing alone while my dad mingled with some people. You came up to me asking what I was doing alone, then you offered to stay by my side for the rest of the night.” You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t.

“You were very sweet and funny, making me laugh all night. And not to mention how insanely cute you were. Hair slicked back, with your tux and bow tie, instead of a regular tie. You didn’t want to introduce me to anyone yet because you saw how nervous I was just being there and around everyone.”

“I wish I could remember,” he whispers, not daring to look up at you just yet. “It sounds like a really fun night.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It was a great night.”

“Can I ask you more things about us?” You pause, your jaw opening and closing in shock.

“Um, let me finish making your food, and then we can talk things out, okay?” He agrees and you walk back to the kitchen, seeing that the mac and cheese was almost done.

The main reason you stalled in that moment was because you weren’t expecting it. Amnesia is different with everyone, but you didn’t know how long people would be okay with talking about their lives before everything happened. So, you weren’t sure if Finn was going to be okay with being bombarded with a bunch of new information and memories of his life that he doesn’t remember.

You quietly enjoy dinner together while watching a movie, a favorite of Finn’s, which he unfortunately doesn't remember. He keeps glancing over at you every now and then, wanting to comfort you but still not feeling well enough to get too close to you.

Once your food is finished and you wash the dishes, Finn wants to take a shower, which wasn’t going to be easy.

“Um, do you want me to call one of the guys over to help you?” You wonder, feeling a bit awkward with the whole situation.

“You can help me, if you want. I don’t...want it to be weird for you or anything but-”

“Not to be weird, but I’ve seen all of you before,” you giggle, blushing a little. Finn chuckles and shakes his head.

“I guess that’s true. Sorry, I-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Finn. It’s not your fault you can’t remember much and it’s not your fault you’re in this position. I don’t blame you, okay?” He nods a little as a silence hangs in the air for a bit.

“So, let’s get you to the bathroom,” you say. Helping him up is tough, since he weighs so much and he can’t really stand on his own yet.

Thankfully, there’s a bathroom on the first level of your apartment, so stairs wouldn’t be a problem, for now. Once you’re in there, you awkwardly look around, wondering how Finn wanted to do this.

“Do you need me to, um, help you with anything?”

“Yeah, I need help getting undressed. I have a bag that the hospital gave me to put over my cast so it doesn’t get wet,” he says softly. You go back to the living room where his bags were still sitting, and rummage through them as quickly as you can.

Undressing Finn isn’t an easy task. His shorts are easy to remove, but his shirt was a struggle. He couldn’t lift his arms much, and he was instructed not to as to not re-injure his ribs. After a lot of chatting and brainstorming, you remove his arms from the sleeves first, then slip the shirt over his head.

Finn was giggling the entire time, watching you go through different ideas. But when your hands slowly remove his shirt, he can’t help but feel a way. He sees and feels how caring you are and he could tell how much you love him. He felt bad for not reciprocating it.

The shower process was even harder. You had to wash his hair and body, which was weird for him, though he went through with it because he knows, in a sense, that you had seen him before. You assured him the entire time that if he wanted you to stop, just say so. But he never said a word.

“(Y/N)?” Finn’s soft voice calls out for you. You were helping him settle into the guest bedroom for the time being, since stairs aren’t the best idea yet, so he couldn’t really sleep in your room.

“What’s up?” You turn around from rummaging through the closet for extra blankets.

“Um, when is our anniversary?” A small smile displays on your face as you take a seat next to him.

“October twenty-second. Nine days before our first Halloween together.”

“What did we go as?”

“Mortica and Gomez Addams. We won the costume contest we entered,” you chuckle. He grins and wants to grab your hand, his eyes darting to it resting by his side, but he keeps himself from doing so.

“That sounds like fun. Maybe seeing pictures of us together could help regain my memory.” Sighing softly, you shake your head and stand.

“You’ve had a long day, Finn. I think you need to relax for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, I guess that’s true.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s been a tough day, even for me.” Finn’s expression dropped and you immediately felt bad.

“No, not like that, b- Finn.” He catches your little slip up but ignores it. “Helping you shower and undress took a lot out of me.” You both share a laugh before you gather the covers you got and lay them on top of Finn’s body, which was under the comforter. He was complaining about being colder than usual, but the doctors and nurses warned his friends that this was normal.

“If you need anything, I’m going to be in the living room,” you tell him, turning the light off.

“Okay. Goodnight, (Y/N).” You give him a tight-lipped smile and close the door. You are close to breaking down in tears, wanting your boyfriend back more than anything.

Days and days go by, and Finn’s memory still remains gone. There’s no sign of it getting better, which is scaring you. His doctor told you that within a month, he should be improving, but it was coming up, and still, nothing.

The nights are the hardest. You sleep alone on the couch, so in case he needs anything, he can easily call for you since he’s right down the hall. You hadn’t gotten a goodnight kiss in the longest time, or a kiss at all.

One night, things were especially hard. Finn was going through a rough patch with his memory, where he ended up forgetting you all over again for a couple hours. The doctor said this was normal as well, but didn’t warn you how or when it would happen.

You were going to help him change his clothes and he freaked out, pushing you away and wondering who you are. You follow the doctor’s instructions, stepping away from him and giving him some time to relax. But, you can’t help but cry.

Taking a seat on the couch, you sob into your hands. You hadn’t cried this much in a while, even though you basically cry yourself to sleep every night. The fact that he doesn’t remember you again breaks you, setting you back even further from the progress he was sort of making.

“(Y/N)?” Finn whispers, standing in the hallway. He also has tears on his cheeks from what just happened.

“Yeah?” You mumble, rising and wiping at your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize, Finn. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I feel so bad and-”

“Well don’t. I’m not upset with you, okay? I was just...not expecting that episode just yet.”

“The doctor said that would happen.”

“He told me too. I did what he told me to do, give you time to calm down and come back.”

“And I did.”

“That’s good. So, do you want me to-“

“No. I mean I’m fully back.” His words make you freeze. Before you can say anything, he steps forward.

“I remember the fact that you’re my girlfriend. We’ve been together for four years. I was filming for Peaky Blinders for months and now that I’ve had a break, I decided to go out. I was supposed to take you to France a few weeks ago. I remember that I love you so much and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Tears were silently falling from your eyes at this point, staring right at Finn as he continued to move forward to you.

His hand reaches out for you, but within seconds, you were in his arms, sobbing loudly as you shove your face into his neck.

“You’re back,” you mumble against his shirt. He laughs softly and nuzzles his head against yours.

“I’m back, love. And I’m never leaving you again.”

“What if it goes away again?” Finn pulls back and wipes your tears away, keeping his hand there.

“Let’s not think like that right now, yeah? Why don’t we head upstairs and rest?”

“Yeah. I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too, my love.”

•••

@peakyxtommy​

#finn cole #finn cole imagines #finn cole imagine #finn cole x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[youngerdrgrey]

the mile don't die club // a Batwoman oneshot

summary: Slight canon divergence for 2x08 where Ryan and Sophie chat post-Coryana, first right after and then again at the clinic. (Some angst but let's have some fun. This was a rough episode.) WildMoore + read on ao3 notes: Pretend with me for a moment that they don't have to think about the Kate of it all for, like, a split second after the Coryana meltdown, okay? Like the news of Kate being dead isn't a thing. We get to have a split second of fun. We open on the plane with Sophie and Ryan-as-Batwoman, while Jacob Kane flies them home.

Ryan winces as the turbulence jostles her again. The heavy shaking reignites the fire in her body. One particularly strong one sends Ryan away from the window and spilling over partially into the empty seat beside her.

Sophie quickly unbuckles and crosses the row to sit beside Ryan. She softly lifts Ryan from the half-bent position and props Ryan against her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sophie says. “It’s been a while since he’s flown a plane.” She chuckles, but there’s a nervous edge under it. “I think I’ll stick to commercial flights.”

It’s not a good joke, but the fact that Sophie’s trying is a comfort. Why joke when the other person’s dying, right? Plus, talking kind of helps Ryan stay awake.

Ryan swallows around her tight throat to say, “This is my second flight ever.” A labored breath. “I’m glad to have done it before dying.”

“Whoa, Luke has a cure. You’re not dying. And you’re not giving up. Kate was… one of the best people I ever knew, and I’d really like her legacy to continue.”

It’s a more honest side to Sophie than Ryan’s ever seen with her own eyes. They’re shoulder to shoulder for the second time tonight. The view of the burning Desert Rose was definitely better than the inside of this stolen plane, but the warmth and steadiness of Sophie beside her is the same. Still comforting enough that it stops up her emotions like a lump in her chest. Ryan’s breath shakes around it. Sophie takes her hand again over the gloves of the suit. If Ryan has to die on this plane, let it be like this.

Her whole body’s heavy, tired, and she sinks closer to the comfort Sophie’s offering so willingly. “Don’t look.” She’s dozing off, so she can’t fully tell if she says it aloud. “You won’t… like me if you look.”

Sophie stares down at her, and her voice comes out soft and contemplative. “Why’s that?” But Ryan can’t get the energy up to answer. She shrugs.

🦇

Ryan jolts awake with a gasp. She yanks at the cowl when Luke stops her. His hands warm and steady on hers. “Hey, breathe. Batwoman , wait.” His eyes dart towards the door to the clinic hallway. “We’re not alone in the building.”

Her whole face crumples in confusion. “Who—”

“Sophie. She, uh, waited for you… to wake up.” He looks more confused than worried.

Ryan’s adrenaline kicks in for a moment of clarity. “Did she look?” If Sophie knows, then everything gets more complicated. Their begrudging partnership, their very real world problems.

Luke shakes his head. “I-I don’t think so. I feel like your secret’s safe. But she did want to see you so…. Can I bring her in or…?”

Ryan blinks a few times to try and clear her head. Take stock of the room. Luke’s closest to her. Right at her bed. Mary is near the door. Mary saved her. God, she loves Mary. Best friend / roommate / illegal doctor around. Mary smiles at Ryan.

“I’m all for it,” Mary says. Ryan doesn’t remember asking, but it makes sense that she might’ve asked something.

Ryan clicks back on the voice modifier in the suit. “Fine. Bring her in.”

The Sophie who enters isn’t the Crow that Ryan’s interacted with time and time again. This is someone unsure. Someone curious and nervous and worried in a way that doesn’t feel misplaced or condescending. It’s confusing to see the way that Sophie’s face splits up with relief at the sight of Batwoman sitting up in the bed. Also confusing — Ryan recognizes the worry. She’s seen this crinkle around Sophie’s eye, this tension in her jaw that snaps free with a tiny sigh.

How long has Sophie cared about Ryan? And would she look this visibly relieved if she knew it was Ryan under the mask?

Ryan shakes her head to clear the thought, but then Sophie’s crossing a few more steps in to be close to the bed. Mary and Luke stay guard, on either side of the room, and they cut glances between each other like they can’t decide if giving privacy would be better or worse in the long run.

“At ease, guys. I just… wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay.” There’s a roughness in Sophie’s voice, a graveled out roughed up core like she’s been worrying herself into a lower register.

Ryan nearly smiles. “Thanks to you. You, uh…”

“Saved your life?” Sophie offers with a grin. “Repaying the favor.”

Right. Ryan had chosen to save Sophie rather than keep the map to Coryana. It’d worked out well in the end, given that then Sophie could get Ryan back out of there.

“Consider us even.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sophie says, a tinge of humor in her voice, “but getting you all the way back here without endangering your identity…”

Ryan cuts her eyes to Luke, as her eyebrows shoot up. He can’t see it with the mask, but Ryan would love to spit an ‘I told you so’ to him. There’s always an ulterior motive with someone like Sophie.

Sophie shrugs. “It’s gotta be worth a drink at least.”

Ryan sputters. Mary squeaks on the other side of the room. As everyone turns to her, Mary quickly says, “She can’t drink on medication. Even with a magical cure all. It’s just, you know, normal… doctor… stuff.”

Sophie nods. “Of course. Another time then.” It’s not a question, but she does turn back to Ryan like she’s waiting for a response.

But Ryan’s stumped. How does she respond to something like that? She’d expected Sophie to be intense. Sophie’s always been this person who favors responsibility and all this stuff over everything. She only makes jokes when she has the upper hand. She literally got Ryan to spy on her ex and cost Ryan the latest take with Angelique. And now, what, she wants to be friends? Or is she looking to add another Bat-shaped notch to her bedpost?

It should make Ryan upset, but honestly, Ryan wonders which version of Sophie would be there if they got a drink. If Ryan were in the Batsuit, then maybe Sophie would be more open, more like… talkative maybe. But the suit would be so uncomfortable. It’d be better out of it. Better at The Hold Up, or on the couch in the loft. Sophie’s raspy voice giving way to a rough laugh, and Ryan could be as warm in front of a very different fire than the wild one on Coryana.

Ryan blinks the images away. Her face burns as her brows scrunch. She doesn’t even have a fireplace. Why would they need it? Where would they have that? On a vacation, just the two of them. No flying this time. A boat maybe. Wind in their hair, some nice bikinis.

Wait. “No.” Ryan shakes her head. “No, thank you.” She needs to clear her head, and having Sophie here right now is not helping. Especially not when Sophie smiles at her after Ryan says no.

Sophie nods. “Copy that. We can pass on the drinks. We’re not done — not with looking for Kate, or this conversation.” Then she turns to Mary and Luke and sort of nods, like giving them her okay to keep going. Ryan can practically hear the ‘Take care of her’ in Sophie’s stare. Mary nods back, clearly accepting the mission. And then Sophie’s gone.

They can hear her footsteps get further and further away. Hear the clinic door shut.

Mary’s got a shit-eating grin on her face. She does this sound that’s somewhere between a squeal and a groan as she crosses over to the bed. “I cannot believe Sophie just asked you out.”

Ryan’s thankful for the cowl still covering her flushed cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’m not interested in eating Crow.”

Luke snorts, which makes Ryan rethink her words. Mary full on cackles. Ryan sits up to throw the closest thing across the room at both of them.

“Eat! I said EAT! Not eating ou—“

“I didn’t say anything!” Luke says, but he keeps laughing. Mary too, and Ryan joins in. Ryan wills her brain not to procure any images to follow that train of thought. The last thing she needs is to start having sex dreams about Sophie. Though, if it’s between that and the kryptonite nightmares…. There are worse ways to go.

🦇

#wildmoore #ryan x sophie #ryan wilder #sophie moore #batwoman #batwoman fic #batwoman: s2 #mine #batwoman: 208 #bat team of color

[sssshhhthefilmsabouttostart]

The best and worst films of 2020

Let’s be honest - 2020 was an extremely shitty year for moviegoers everywhere, as the Queen would say an annus horribilis.

Due to the Covid pandemic’s dramatic impact on nearly every facet of human life, cinemas closed, film festivals went virtual and film productions became an intricate mess of insurance and safety challenges.

Yet despite these dire challenges and an unpredictable future, cinema remained very much alive throughout the year, with a wide range of ambitious undertakings snaking their way into whatever form of release seemed viable. Blockbusters receded to the background, allowing a wide range of movies to trickle through an uncertain marketplace that would have been hostile to them even in pre-pandemic times.

So what cinematic gems and unmitigated disasters were dropped upon audiences during the year?

Ladies and gentlemen, may we please offer for your consideration...

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

THE CURRENT WAR - THE LIGHTHOUSE - IN FABRIC - BEING FRANK: THE CHRIS SIEVEY STORY (D) - BOMBSHELL - THE PEANUT BUTTER FALCON - THE SOCIAL DILEMMA (D) - LIGHT OF MY LIFE - THE ASSISTANT - THE LODGE - THE GENTLEMEN - THE WAY BACK - DARK WATERS - 1917 - THE BURNT ORANGE HERESY - THE HUNT

2020′S TOP TEN BEST FILMS

10. THE WOLF OF SNOW HOLLOW

Hot off the critical success of his debut feature ‘Thunder Road,’ writer-director Jim Cummings’ refreshing yet effective take on the werewolf genre amped up the dark comedy whilst delivering quite a few chills. Tinged with realistically flawed characters and clever scares, ‘The Wolf of Snow Hollow’ might not have been your typical werewolf flick but it successfully managed to bring that classic legend to life once again.

9. LET HIM GO

Previously last seen together as Clark Kent’s adoptive parents in ‘Man of Steel,’ Diane Lane and Kevin Costner were reunited onscreen as husband and wife again in writer-director Thomas Bezucha’s neo-Western drama ‘Let Him Go.’ Adapted from author Larry Watson’s 2013 novel, the film featured stunning landscapes, full-blooded moments of sudden violence and compelling performances from Diane Lane, Kevin Costner and, most memorably, Lesley Manville’s turn as a gritty and cunning matriarch.

8. COLOUR OUT OF SPACE

Based on the classic short story by HP Lovecraft and featuring another scene-stealing performance from Nicolas Cage, this clever adaptation was an effective horror film with an unrelentingly grim sci-fi bent. In addition to the truly disturbing and inspired images of queasy body horror, ‘Colour Out of Space’ also marked the eagerly-anticipated re-emergence of filmmaker Richard Stanley (his first time back in the director’s chair since being fired from his 1996 remake ‘The Island of Dr Moreau’).

7. THE INVISIBLE MAN

Who knew a remake could be so refreshing? With this updated take on the H.G. Wells tale, writer-director Leigh Whannell did just about everything right, delivering a tense, clever thriller with touches of both horror and sci-fi. As the fascinatingly flawed yet appealing tough protagonist, Elisabeth Moss gave a captivating performance in a film that was chilling in all the right ways, packed with plenty of twists and a deliciously nasty resolution.

6. THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 (NETFLIX)

Whilst the subject matter of ‘The Trial of the Chicago 7′ shared an uncanny relevance to today’s politically charged times, as a gripping courtroom drama with a stellar cast, the film ticked all the boxes. ‘West Wing’ creator Aaron Sorkin put his trademark traits - razor-sharp wit, rhetorical flair and political insight - to very good use in this masterful retelling of the trial following the 1968 anti-war protests outside the Democratic National Convention.

5. HEARTS AND BONES

In his debut feature film, Australian director Ben Lawrence created a spiritually rich and immersive drama about the relationship between a grizzled, broken war photographer and a Sudanese refugee. Whilst Hugo Weaving was note-perfect in his portrayal as a crumbling man wrestling with his past, equally impressive was first time actor Andrew Luri who delivered a quiet yet memorable performance in what was an affecting piece of cinema.

4. TOTALLY UNDER CONTROL (DOCUMENTARY)

Watching a documentary about the COVID-19 crisis in the middle of a global pandemic might not sound appealing but prolific filmmaker Alex Gibney’s latest work was easily the most essential non-fiction film of 2020. Shot safely in secret for five months, ‘Totally Under Control’ played out like a tightly-wound thriller as it placed the Trump Administration’s inept response to the coronavirus pandemic under the microscope.

3. BAD EDUCATION (HBO)

As far as crime stories go, embezzlement isn’t always the most thrilling subject. However, ‘Bad Education’ turned a relatively simple white collar crime story about a New Jersey school administrator caught stealing money into a compelling drama, thanks to an incisive and nimble script and spot on performances from Allison Janney, Geraldine Viswanathan, Ray Romano and especially Hugh Jackman.

2. MANK (NETFLIX)

Director David Finch’s dazzling portrait of Herman J. ‘Mank’ Mankiewicz, the screenwriter who collaborated with wunderkind filmmaker Orson Welles to write the first draft of ‘Citizen Kane,’ was a cinematic jewel from start to finish. Similar to last year’s ‘Once Upon A Time in...Hollywood,’ ‘Mank’ delivered a layered depiction of the filmmaking process, whilst Gary Oldman continued to excel at immersing himself in playing real-life characters, this time as the hard-drinking, intellectual screenwriter.

1. NOMADLAND

Writer-director Chloe Zhao’s intimate drama about an unemployed widow living as a van-dwelling modern-day nomad was a thoughtful, contemplative and reflective piece of storytelling. It may have touched upon mature themes about loneliness, financial instability and restlessness, but ‘Nomadland’ remained an uplifting and hopeful piece of cinema that captured the various bittersweet reasons people choose to live a life on the road.

With an outstanding performance from Frances McDormand, brought to life through the charm of the ‘real life’ supporting cast, great direction and Joshua James Richard’s mesmerising cinematography, ‘Nomadland’ was the perfect film for 2020.

...AND NOW THE WORST!

DISHONOURABLE MENTIONS

VAMPIRES VS THE BRONX - BAD BOYS FOR LIFE - THE OLD GUARD - PROJECT POWER - ISN’T IT ROMANTIC - THE RHYTHM SECTION - WHERE’D YOU GO, BERNADETTE - I’M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS - MIDWAY - YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT - BABY DONE - FORCE OF NATURE - CAPONE - THE NEW MUTANTS - DOOLITTLE

10. WONDER WOMAN 1984

To quote Red Letter Media’s resident film critic Mike Stoklasa, “this movie was the cinematic equivalent of the Bluesmobile.” Directed by Patty Jenkins, this 80′s-set sequel to the 2017 DC superhero hit was lethargically paced and featured a completely bonkers narrative that made absolutely no sense. Horribly scripted, disjointed and overstuffed (a runtime of 2.5 hours), ‘Wonder Woman 1984′ sadly jettisoned everything that made Jenkins’ original film so compelling. The result? An appalling misfire.

9. THE GRUDGE

A curiously talented and interesting cast were somehow lured into - and subsequently wasted in - this pointless, tired, reboot/revival of the long-running ‘Ju-On’ Japanese-based horror series. Despite director NIcholas Pesce’s attempt to disguise the rudimentary nature of the plot via back-and-forth timeline jumping, ‘The Grudge’ was just a formulaic paint-by-the-numbers meander through a poorly developed story that existed only to prop up a bunch of uninspired jump scares.

8. BIRDS OF PREY (AND THE FANTABULOUS EMANCIPATION OF ONE HARLEY QUINN)

There are many movies that have no reason to exist - and this latest misfire from DC Comics was one of them. Directed by Cathy Yan, ‘Birds of Prey’ was a mire of uninspired ideas and recycled genre conventions that got old real quick. Penned by Christina Hodson (’Bumblebee’ being the ‘highlight’ on her resume), the script was as simplistic as it was thin, with needless subplots merely introduced to inflate the film to a decent running time. Even Margot Robbie’s manic performance as the ‘Mistress of Mayhem’ couldn’t save this mess.

7. JAY AND SILENT BOB REBOOT

What could’ve been a dream film for fans of these two classic stoner characters instead was nothing but a string of cameos and callbacks in a plot-less bore. Director Kevin Smith sucked all the life and fun out of this watered-down story, that suffered from a constant series of awkward and forced jokes that were painfully unfunny. An unfortunate stinker.

6. AVA

This latest foray into the ‘female assassin for hire’ genre was about as cliched as you could get. An emotionally troubled female killer whose male mentor assumes the role of the surrogate father? Check. Pounding dance music score? Check. Obligatory nightclub fight sequence? Check. Confused love interest? You betcha! Humourless, dry and uninspired, ‘Ava’ played out like a poor man’s ‘La Femme Nikita.’

5. FANTASY ISLAND

Hollywood’s obsession with repackaging Gen-X childhoods continued with this absurd attempt to reboot the classic 1970′s TV series as a low-budget horror joint under the Blumhouse label. At a dangerously close two hour runtime, there was simply nothing interesting about the film’s characters or its inane plot about a mystical island that grants wishes (a’la ‘The Monkey’s Paw’). Our advice? Turn ‘de plane’ around if you ever plan to visit this ‘Fantasy Island.’

4. ARTEMIS FOWL

For every ‘Harry Potter’ that explodes into the public consciousness, there always seems to be a dozen or more failed franchises. Sadly, Disney’s ‘Artemis Fowl’ found itself in the latter category. Director Kenneth Branagh’s dull and superficial attempt to transfer this popular children’s book series from page to screen suffered from a lack of character development, an over-reliance in CG effects and featured a lifeless performance from newcomer Ferdia Shaw as the titular character. 

3. HUBIE HALLOWEEN (NETFLIX)

A month before last year’s Oscar nominations were released, Adam Sandler joked on ‘The Howard Stern Show’ that if the Academy snubbed him for his role in the film ‘Uncut Gems,’ he would make a movie “that [was] so bad on purpose.” And that’s exactly what happened. Supposedly a comedy, ‘Hubie Halloween’ was unfunny, disposable and completely devoid of any originality. Sadly for audiences, Sandler signed a four-movie deal with Netflix last year, worth up to $275 million - so we can expect to see more of this shit soon!

2. ALIEN ADDICTION

Aliens visit New Zealand and get high smoking human faeces? Someone should have advised Kiwi director Shae Sterling that audiences have moved on from such puerile comedies as this abomination. Suffice to say, if anybody ever admitted to finding this film remotely funny, they’d probably be outcast from society. An embarrassment to all those involved. 

1. THE BEACH BUM

Director Harmony Korine’s generic stoner comedy about a prolific poet who drifts through life in a drug-induced haze had all the natural high of an unfiltered, soggy joint and was easily, hands down, 2020′s worst film.

‘The Beach Bum’ was a pretentious and uninteresting movie whose lead character, considered to be an ‘artistic genius,’ was nothing more than a relentless shithead to everyone around him. As Moondog, the semi-naked, bongo-playing, pot-fuelled beat poet, Matthew McConaughey was insufferable and grating in his portrayal of a character you would quite easily want to punch in the face - repeatedly. Blazed and confused, ‘The Beach Bum’ had no plot, no class and no entertainment value whatsoever. 

MOVIE POSTERS

From the classic to the abstract, here is just a sample of some of the best poster designs from a highly unusual year of movies.

...AND FINALLY, WHEN WHEN IT COMES TO DIRE-LOG, THEY SAID WHAT!?

“I've never wanted anything more. But he's gone, and that's the truth. And everything has a price. One I'm not willing to pay. Not any more. This world was a beautiful place, just as it was, and you cannot have it all. You can only have the truth. And the truth is enough. The truth is beautiful” (’Wonder Woman 1984′).

And who could forget this little chestnut of advice...

“That is the only truth and truth is all there is. You cannot be the winner because you are not ready to win. And there is no shame in that. Only in knowing the truth in your heart and not accepting it. No true hero is born from lies” (’Wonder Woman 1984′).

[girlobsessed21]

Thoughts on The 100 7x01

Before I get into the episode, I felt the absence of Bellamy and Octavia, they are my favorites and a very core part of this show. I was worried about the lack of Bellamy in all the promotional material, but Jason explained in an article that he needed some time off and they gave that to him, but he still plays a vital role and we will see him again.  At the end of the day, we don’t know what happened, but the mystery around his disappearance into anomaly is quite intriguing.

For now, I’m holding out hope that he will return to my screen in full force, until proven wrong I’m going to be positive. Despite that, I enjoyed it. It wasn’t my favorite first episode, still a strong start spreading optimism for the rest of the season. Lots of surprises that made it worthwhile.

The anomaly colony

Hope wakes up with memory loss while Gabriel examines her tattoos. She runs away and finds a note to herself that says, ‘Trust Bellamy’. Bellamy, not Octavia, who she clearly knows, which seems like Hope wasn’t aware she would find Octavia in Sanctum.

Now, why would Hope want to trust Bellamy and stab Octavia? Perhaps she needed his help finding her in return for Diyoza? This seems like a logical conclusion given that ‘He’ has her mother. The Blakes certainly hold some key to the anomaly, everything points me in that direction.

I can’t say all that much about Hope, due to the amnesia she has no personality yet, but it’s clear she’s smart and capable.

Gabriel being an anomaly-dork. Gosh, I love him too bits. The acting in the scene where they try to figure out what happened to Octavia and Bellamy is a little cringy, but I turned a blind eye and focused on the dialogue.

I’m getting to the good stuff…

Roan coming back to haunt Echo is probably my favorite part of the episode, I’ve missed the king so damn much. He asks her who she is without Bellamy or her queen. I’m so glad they’re delving into the subject. If you read my previous blogs, you’ll know I asked this question many times. She’s such a bad ass spy, she needs a purpose and story apart from him. Nonetheless, I like Echo and I would love to see her gain some of her own identity and build her own life. Being distanced by time and space could really do that for her. Scroll down for the shipping part of this story…

The more important thing is that there are people who control the anomaly and know exactly who they are. Like Echo predicted because of the bad shots they were sent to capture and not kill them except for Hope. I assume it’s because she knows how the anomaly works. Who are they and what do they want? My guess, Bellamy and Octavia. Perhaps Clarke as well?

Loved the three of them entering together because a few second difference could mean months. That means Diyoza and Octavia could have been months, maybe even years, apart.

Rising from and burning to ashes in one afternoon

This new beautiful house with the dysfunctional family and Madi with Picasso is certainly heart-warming in a show that continues to push the bounds of darkness. How great is that little picnic in the yard? Now I’m curious, they drink to Abby, but have they forgotten Kane?

Also, good to see Raven and Clarke on better terms. They really spoiled her character in season 6 but it seems like she’s back on par. It’s clear that good things happen when they’re working towards the same goal, as family. That dynamic has been broken since season 2 and if there’s one lesson that can be learned from season 1 it’s that they’re outstanding on the same team. 

At first, I wondered why they weren’t questioning Octavia, Bellamy and Echo’s absence but then I realized they probably saved them a room like they did for Jordan and assumed they were exploring the anomaly. It’s still the same day as 6x13 since they were having lunch. Episode 6x13 ended at dawn and 7x01 starts at lunchtime.

I know Murphy did a lot of obscure things in season 6 but he’s not to blame for Abby’s death. Emori’s right, Russel killed her.

Why did Clarke choose the master suite, though? It seems a little out of character for her to do something so selfish.

On to other things, I must point out Indra’s line: “Someone needs to speak for the commander and I’m hungry.” She’s magnificent, hard and sharp, as always. Pair that with Miller being a dutiful, abiding shoulder and you have greatness.

Raven makes a comment about mothers and daughters and Clarke says she’s fine. Later, Madi also asks her to open up about it, and she still claims to be fine. When I heard this the first time, I was instantly worried because they heap one set of PTSD on top of the other and never deal with it. The woman just lost her mother, how the hell can she be fine. The answer: She can’t.

And I’m really glad they expanded on that to show how utterly necessary it is to deal with your grief and trauma. Sure, Clarke is a powerhouse of a woman, but she’s human and clearly hurt, she can’t compartmentalize and continue on like nothing has happened – I hope she finds a way to actually deal with it instead of following in Jasper’s footsteps. She was already suicidal, give the damn woman a break.

Is civility an ability?

Faith is a powerful and dangerous thing. Interesting topic. While I don’t completely believe that faith is dangerous, when it comes to the point of blindly following charlatan’s into harms way, yes it becomes dangerous. My biggest thoughts on this narrative is whether peace can indeed exist in a world where different factions exist with various beliefs and opinions. I’d like to quote John Lennon:

Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people living life in peace, you

Keyword being ‘Imagine’, this song is written about an unattainable Utopia which is still a reality several hundred years into the future.

“Too many people”

“Good thing ALIE’s not around.”

The humor is all around outstanding this episode even Clarke cracks a joke.

We’re introduced to a few new characters and not much too say about them since we didn’t see much of them. I like Nelson, he is firm in his stance, logical and pragmatic. Trey is just annoying with his faith in the divinity of the primes. The only thing I got from Nikki is that she’s compulsive and lethal while Hatch has this Southern charm and charisma. He reminds me of Sawyer from Lost.

Next, Jordan goes to check on Russel. I appreciate the way they build around the morality we saw withing Russel at the beginning of season 6. JR Bourne is a fantastic actor with the depth he plays into the grief and guilt of losing his family.

Also, the softness of Monty and Harper still shining through Jordan. I’m glad he’s not adjusted and simply trying to keep the peace. Not sure if that’ll change. Curious to know why they saw the anomaly in their visions…

I just need to add that Murphy sitting at a bar is perfect!! Another amazing episode for him and Emori. He questions himself with his own varied degrees of morality while Emori continues to grow by reading Kay Lee Prime’s journal. I guess the believers must be blind to continue following their orders, but hey, props to Raven for exploiting the opportunity and Murphy and Emori did an entertaining job with it. Emori has come such a long way and the ‘We are one’ line felt personal in the sense that she had also established herself as part of the family.

Losing my religion

Can you truly lose your religion? What is a fleimkeepa without a flame, what is Sanctum without the primes and what is Echo without Bellamy? Sometimes faith is stronger than truth. Bad thing, no! Because what is the truth really? Interesting subject to explore but I don’t have an answer on this. I’d rather focus on the fact that I’m glad we’ll get to explore these characters on new paths.

Clarke’s composure vanishes. Boy oh boy, Eliza’s acting. When you compare s6 and 7 to s1, it just shows you the value of experience. The way that switch flipped when Russel handed her Abby’s clothes and wedding band. I looked at the fighting and her explosive rage in detail and I cannot help but compliment her on that perfect portrayal of the result of passive aggression.

Now, I don’t understand how Sheidheda uploaded himself into Russel’s mind drive when it was made clear that two consciousness cannot exist in the same mind.  When Clarke killed Josephine in the mind-space, she came back to life within seconds. Will this be another Clarke/Josephine battle and are the other commanders still subdued?

If he is going to be one of the main villains of the season, I would like to get under his skin. I’m not interested in a one-dimensional pure evil villain. I’m hoping JR Bourne will make something remarkable of him.

Shipwreck

There’s a friendship blooming between Clarke and Gaia and I’m all for it. Could they be setting them up romantically? It’s a possibility and I’d take it as a consolation prize for Bellarke if it’s well-built. Focus on the well-built. If Clarke finds out that Bellamy is missing and goes through hell and beyond to save him, I will interpret that as Clarke still loves Bellamy. If they want me to fall in love with Claia, they should make me fall in love with Claia.

Although I’d always prefer Bellarke. From a storytelling or writing viewpoint, all loose ends should be tied with the conclusion. Bellarke is a complete loose shard. If romance is not their destiny, I hope they at least address the topic in full, because it has been building for seven years. If you haven’t read my post on Bellarke, please do so. I explain in the romantic elements of their story in detail.

As for Echo’s vision of Roan. He questions her devotion to Bellamy and says she will even betray the man she now claims to love. I interpreted that as him referring to Mount Weather as well as secrets she’s obviously hidden from Bellamy. For example, her real name.  This could go two ways in my opinion. One, they’re trying to set Echo apart from Bellamy, separating them by time and space to break them up or they are trying to teach her how to be her own person as well as the other half of their relationship.

I’m not quite invested in their relationship, and they would have to rip one bigass hare out of the hat to get my attention. Love their characters individually, but season 6 showed me Bellamy still loves Clarke. If Becho’s relationship was built to last, the writers would have written it that way. When you compare it to Murphy and Emori or Monty and Harper, it’s clearly questionable.

That’s it, let me know if I got something wrong, if you agree or disagree, love to hear your opinions.

#the 100 #the 100 season 7 #the 100 7x01 #the 100 season seven #The100 #clarke griffin #bellarke #bellamy blake #octavia blake #john murphy #emori #echo kom azgeda #gabriel #indra kom trikru #gaia #raven reyes #russel lightbourne #jordan green

[singledarkshade]

What Happened To Amelia Pond

Summary: Amelia Pond disappeared one day from Leadworth, and Rory Williams has wondered ever since where his best friend was. Author’s Note: Just a random idea I had. Enjoy.                                 ********************************************* Once upon a time in a small English village called Leadworth lived a young red haired Scottish girl named Amelia Pond who had a crack in her wall.

One night, when the voices coming from beyond it became too much to bear, she decided to ask for help from Santa - the only grown-up who had never let her down. To her surprise a Police Box crashed into the shed and a strange man appeared. He called himself the Doctor and told her of his magical box that had a library, a swimming pool and could travel in time. Then, after some interesting food choices, he fixed the crack in her wall.

Totally entranced by this strange man Amelia asked to travel with him so she could have adventures. To her amazement, because adults always told her she had to stay in stupid Leadworth, he told her she could but he would have to take his box away for five minutes to make sure it was safe.

She packed a case with everything she thought she would need, realising suddenly that she had to let her best friend know where she was going. Rory’s mum had died a few months ago and his dad was still not well meaning he had to live with his gran, Amelia knew she couldn’t just leave without letting him know where she’d gone or he’d worry. She quickly hid the message in their special secret hiding place so no one else would get it before she set her case down on the ground just where the box had been, sat on it waiting for the Doctor to come back.

No one would ever see little Amelia Pond again.

                                *********************************************

  The van they’d hired made its way through the small streets of the quiet village. Leadworth was a picturesque little place with very little crime.

Patricia Kane, freshly graduated from teacher training and the village’s newest Primary School teacher, sat in the passenger seat watching the houses pass by amazed by how perfect the place seemed to be.

Her research on the village had only found one thing to any real interest.

Ten years before a little girl had disappeared without a trace, typically from the house they were renting. It didn’t bother her, despite her mother’s concern of the history of the house; in fact Patricia was actually quite intrigued by the mystery.

“The ‘Welcoming Committee’ is here,” Josh noted from the driver’s seat as they drew close to the house.

Patricia chuckled at the resignation in his voice seeing Suzy Granger, the woman who had not only dealt with the renting of the house but was also part of the Village Council, standing waiting for them. They’d realised when looking for a place that living in a small village was going to be very different to living in the city.

  “Suzy,” Patricia greeted the woman the moment she slid out of the van.

“You’ve got a nice day to move in,” Suzy smiled back, she handed over a small package, “This is all your keys with the code for the alarm.” Josh appeared at her side and nodded to the front garden, “Do we also get a security guard?”

“Oh,” Suzy sighed as they all looked at the young man standing leaning against the large oak tree in the front garden staring at the shed. He had sandy hair and stood with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched sadness radiating from him, “That’s Poor Rory. He won’t be here for long.”

Patricia turned to her confused, “Which means?”

“You were told the story of the little girl who lived here and disappeared ten years ago,” Suzy said, continuing when they both nodded, “Well, Poor Rory was her best friend and it’s the anniversary today.”

“Do you think that’s all one word or does he hyphenate?” Josh murmured in her ear while Suzy glanced back at their visitor again, getting an elbow in his ribs.

“I’ll ask him to leave,” Suzy said.

“No,” Patricia stopped the other woman, “It’s okay. Let him have his vigil.”

Suzy smiled at her before she sighed, “Poor Rory, only a few months before Amelia disappeared he was in a car accident with his parents. His mother died and his father was so badly injured he lives with his grandmother. He’s almost a fully qualified nurse which I must admit we all think was because of his losses.”

“How old is he?” Josh asked interested, although a little stunned that they’d been given so much information on a stranger. “Nineteen,” Suzy replied, “He’s a very intelligent boy. Threw himself into his studies after his losses, skipped several years of school and went to college early.”

“Does he come here often?” Patricia asked.

Suzy shook her head, “No, only this day each year.”

  Rory leaned against the tree wondering where she was today.

Her message told him not to worry, that she was having adventures and maybe if her friend, the Doctor, agreed Rory could come on one too. No one believed him that the message he’d received had been from Amelia the night she disappeared. Instead they patted him on the head and murmured about the poor boy that lost his best friend just a few short months after losing his mum.

But Rory knew Amelia better than anyone and he knew that if she had told him she was going to have adventures then she was. Even as he grew and no longer looked at the world with the innocence of a child, Rory believed Amelia was having adventures with her magic Doctor.

Voices coming from behind him pulled Rory out of his musings and he grimaced when he saw the van, realising that the new tenants were moving in today. Seeing Suzy Granger standing there with two people he didn’t recognise he winced but headed over to them.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were moving in today,” Rory apologised softly about to leave.

“How’s your Gran, Rory?” Suzy asked before turning to the couple standing there, “She’s a lovely woman, makes the best home-baked chocolate cakes for the fetes but has been a bit poorly.”

“She’s feeling better,” Rory stated.

“You know,” the man said suddenly, “I should start unpacking the van otherwise I won’t get it back in time.”

Rory was surprised when the man made a small head jerk to him but spoke up, “Do you want some help?”

“Great,” the reply came and Rory followed on to the back of the van.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Rory said softly.

“I’m Josh,” he introduced himself, “I could see the look on your face when Suzy started giving us all the details. I take it privacy is something that happens elsewhere.”

Rory nodded, “You learn to live with it.”

“Or you could leave,” Josh suggested as he started to pull out boxes.

Rory shrugged, “It’s an idea. I’ll take these inside.” “One question,” Josh stopped him, “Is Poor Rory one word or do you hyphenate?” Rory started to laugh, not sure why because it wasn’t even funny but every time he looked at Josh he started again making the other man laugh as well.

                                  *********************************************

  Rory dropped onto the couch with a sigh, smiling when Patricia passed him a mug of tea, “Thanks.”

“Bad day?” she asked, sitting on the chair and propping her legs up on the table.

Rory took a long drink of tea, “Long day. Where’s Josh?”

“He’ll be home soon,” she replied, “He’s bringing dinner.” Relaxing back and watching the movie Rory smiled slightly. Despite the hideous introduction they’d had, Patricia and Josh had become great friends to him. They were the only people in the village who didn’t look at him like he was some charity case and he loved them for it.

He even found himself talking about Amelia every so often.

It was strange that somehow he’d found new friends in the house where his childhood friend had lived. He’d helped them move in then Josh had asked him to help assemble some furniture, which did not go as well as it should have but left the three of them in hysterical laughter. He’d then been asked to help paint some of the rooms and several months later Rory was a regular for dinner at least three times a week.

  Patricia adored Rory.

He was very smart, supremely sarcastic when he wanted to be, extremely observant and very sweet. Josh was the eldest of four already so had just slotted Rory into the same category as his brothers. The younger man readily agreed to help them with anything for the house, although he would not go into the room that had been Amelia’s bedroom. She realised that for the first time in a long time Rory had people who didn’t think of him as ‘Poor Rory’, people he could spend time with who liked him but didn’t think of him as some broken waif.

To her surprise, after a few months, he even spoke to them about Amelia. Neither said anything at his steadfast belief she was alive having adventures but they didn’t treat him like an idiot either for the hope he carried it was true.

                                  *********************************************

  “No,” Rory stated folding his arms across his chest decisively.

“Yes,” Patricia told him, “You are coming and you going to enjoy yourself.”

Rory frowned at her, “On a blind date with Josh’s sister’s friend from work?”

Josh chuckled holding his hands up defensively when his girlfriend and his friend both glared at him, “I’m not involved in this.”

“It’s your sister’s friend,” Rory threw at him.

Patricia sat at his side, “Okay, how about I make you a deal.”

Rory grimaced but remained silent.

“You come for dinner and, if you’re not enjoying yourself, I will let you use the ‘working early in the morning’ excuse to get out of there right after we eat,” she told him.

Rory sighed in defeat, “Does it have to be tonight?”

Josh and Patricia shared a look before she rested a hand on his shoulder, “It’s been eleven years, Rory. You are allowed to move on.”

Anger filled Rory’s eyes which faded when his two friends looked at him concerned, “I know it’s stupid, I know she isn’t going to magically appear one day but I...” he trailed off not sure how to voice his need to watch for her. He knew no one believed that Amelia was having adventures, he knew that it was an utterly ridiculous idea that he did but it was one he couldn’t let go of.

“Come on,” Josh said, “It’ll be a laugh.”

Sighing Rory gave in.

  Jane was nice.

Rory was stunned to find he actually liked her and, to his surprise, she seemed to like him too. With a lot of pushing from Josh and Patricia he asked her out and they began dating. They were together for six months, Rory did his best but Jane wanted more from him than he was able to give her.

His grandmother needed his help, he’d been taken on full time at the hospital which gave him an erratic schedule and then there were his memories of Amelia. In the end she didn’t like coming second to the memory of his childhood best friend and broke up with him.

Josh and Patricia tried a few more times to set him up but most only lasted a few dates. And then as the twelfth anniversary of Amelia’s disappearance came around things became very strange.

                                  *********************************************

  Rory followed Dr Ramsden through the ward, wishing it had been one of the other doctors on because for some reason she didn’t seem to like him. Something strange was going on, the patients in the coma ward were wandering about the village. He’d seen them, he had photographic evidence but no one would listen to him. It wasn’t because he was just a nurse, it was because he was so much younger than everyone else. His twenty-first was in three days and he was worrying what Patricia and Josh had planned as they kept grinning at him whenever it was mentioned.

“So,” Dr Ramsden demanded, “They all called out at once, that's what you're saying?”

Rory grimaced at the tone of her voice.

“All of them. All the coma patients?” she continued harshly, “You do understand that these people are all comatose, don't you? They can't speak.”

“Yes, Doctor Ramsden,” Rory replied.

“Then why are you wasting my time?” she snapped at him.

Rory winced before saying softly, “Because they called for you.”

“Me?”

“Doctor,” one of the patients called before Rory could reply, “Doctor. Doctor.”

Rory looked at the woman standing across from him seeing the same confusion in her eyes that he felt as the other patients took up the call.

“Doctor. Doctor. Doctor. Doctor. Doctor.”

After several minutes silence filled the ward again and Dr Ramsden checked the closest patient.

“I don't think they were even conscious,” she said thoughtfully.

 Rory knew it was probably a bad idea but he pushed on anyway, “Doctor Ramsden, there is another sort of funny thing.”

“Yes, I know,” she stated, “Doctor Carver told me about your conversation. We've been very patient with you, Rory. You're a good enough nurse, but for God's sake.”

“I've seen them,” Rory tried to get her to listen to him while he pulled out his phone to find the pictures.

She frowned at him, “These patients are under twenty four hour supervision. We know if their blood pressure changes. There is no possibility that you could have seen them wandering about the village. Why are you giving me your phone?”

 “It's a camera too,” he explained, relieved when she reached for it, her beeper sounded and she waved him away again.

“You need to take some time off, Rory,” she told him, stopping him from arguing, “A lot of time off. Start now,” he tried to protest once more, “Now.”

  Rory parked his car and dropped his head against the steering wheel. He’d sent a text to Patricia and Josh telling them what had happened, they were the only people in his life he could talk to because they were the only ones who didn’t think of him as ‘Poor Rory’.

Frustrated he decided to walk for a while, he really didn’t want to explain to his gran why he was home from work early.

He was beginning to think about leaving Leadworth. There was very little keeping him here except the memory of a friend who had left twelve years ago and the grandmother who needed him. As he wandered the village green without thought Rory spotted one of the coma patients out with his dog. Pulling out his phone he was vaguely aware that the light seemed to be coming through a filter of some kind.

Rory jumped when his phone was snatched out his hands.

“The sun's going out,” a strange man in a pin-striped suit that looked as though it had seen better days said, “And you're photographing a man and a dog. Why?”

“What?” Rory demanded confused.

“Man and dog. Why?” the man snapped, “Tell me now.”

Rory shook himself and replied, “Because he can't be there. Because he's in a hospital, in a coma,” bemused as the man said the words with him Rory nodded, “Yeah.”

The man grinned at him, “Knew it. Multiform, you see? Disguise itself as anything, but it needs a life feed. A psychic link with a living but dormant mind.”

“Who the hell are you?” Rory blurted out spinning as the coma patient began to bark instead of the dog.

“I’m the Doctor,” the man replied absently before he confronted the strange image before them.

Rory was completely caught by how the man introduced himself that he barely noticed the alien spaceship, the explosions and the man turning to liquid before sliding down the drain.

“No TARDIS, no screwdriver, seventeen minutes,” the man was muttering to himself, “Come on, think. Think!”

“You’re the Doctor?” Rory demanded, pulling the other man out his mutterings, “As in Amelia’s Doctor?”

The Doctor turned to him, “You know Amelia Pond?”

“Where is she?” Rory asked stunned, “Is she with you or did you leave her at your box?”

The Doctor stared at him confused, “What?”

“Amelia,” Rory clarified, “I was her friend. If she’s back I want to see her.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Rory,” he introduced himself.

The Doctor took a breath, “I now have less than seventeen minutes to stop the aliens from blowing up your planet, Rory. Can we focus on that just now and then we’ll talk about Amelia after the Earth is safe?”

Rory nodded, “Okay.”

The Doctor pulled a phone out of his pocket, adding Rory’s number to it and thrust it at Rory, “Get to the hospital. Get everyone out of that ward. Clear the whole floor. Phone me when you're done.”

  “Rory!!”

He turned to Patricia as she came running towards him across the hospital car park, “You can’t be here. Something...” “The Police Box,” she cut him off, “It’s appeared in the garden.” Rory nodded, “I thought it might have.”

She stared at him confused, similar to the look she gave him when he explained Amelia’s farewell message before she asked, “How?”

“Because I just met the Doctor,” he explained.

“What?!!!”  she stared at him, “Is she with him?”

Rory winced, “I don’t know because there are aliens trying to destroy the world and I have to help.”

Patricia stared at him before shrugging, “So what do we need to do?”

He took a breath, “You get everyone out of the hospital while I check the ward.”

  Rory stared in amazement at the man, now dressed in clothes he’d stolen from the lockers, who had just called back aliens who were going to blow up the planet and told them off.

“Okay,” the strange man turned to Rory, “Let’s talk about Amelia.” Rory let out a laugh, “I always wondered if maybe it wasn’t true but meeting you, seeing what you just did I can even believe the time travel.”

The Doctor held up his hand, “Rory, where is Amelia?”

“She’s with you,” Rory said before frowning confused, “Isn’t she?”

The Doctor shook his head, “Rory, I left Amelia less than half an hour ago. I meant to get back to her in five minutes but the TARDIS took a little longer than I expected.”

Rory stared at him horrified, “But that means...”

“I’m sorry, Rory,” the Doctor apologised, “I don’t know where Amelia is.”

Bile rose up in his throat as the weight of the words came crashing down on him, Amelia hadn’t gone with the Doctor. She hadn’t spent the past twelve years having adventures. Something bad had happened to her.

The world around him spun and he felt two arms catch him before he was set down to sit against the wall.

“It’s okay,” the Doctor said, “Deep breaths. We’ll work this out?” “How?” Rory demanded grabbing the other man by his jacket letting out a cry when something burned him.

The Doctor pulled out a key which was glowing, “I have to get back to the TARDIS and make sure she’s fixed.”

Nodding absently Rory forced himself to his feet and followed the strange man.

  The blue Police Box sat just to one side of the shed and Rory stared in amazement to see it.

“So that’s your magic blue box,” Rory whispered folding his arms across his chest.

The Doctor nodded patting the side of it affectionately, “This is the TARDIS.”

“Small,” Rory noted.

“There’s no need to be rude,” the Doctor noted before shaking his head, “Alright, about Amelia. Tell me everything.” Rory shrugged, “There’s not much to tell. She disappeared one night.”

“How did you know about me?” the Doctor asked.

“She left me a message,” he explained, “I found it the next morning in our secret place and I know it was new because there was nothing there when I’d left earlier that afternoon.”

The Doctor frowned, “Okay, I need to see the message.”

Rory nodded, “It’s at home.” “You go get that,” the Doctor told him, “I need to check the TARDIS is working. I’ll meet you back here in an hour?”

“Okay,” Rory replied.

Two days later Rory resigned himself to the fact the other man was not coming back.

                                  *********************************************

  A few months had passed since all the weirdness happened in Leadworth and the Doctor had saved the world, Patricia shook her head fondly finding Rory fast asleep in the chair beside the hospital bed, still in his scrubs. Checking the woman on the bed she smiled to see she was awake.

“Hi, Mrs Williams,” Patricia said softly, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, dear,” June Williams replied weakly, “Just a little tired.”

Patricia nodded, knowing she was much sicker than she would ever admit.

“Has that grandson of mine gone home?” June asked.

Patricia winced and moved out the way so she could see Rory unconscious in the chair, “I’ll move him.”

“I was so glad when he met you and Josh,” June sighed softly, “He’s such a good boy but I know he finds it hard to make new friends after losing Amelia.”

Patricia smiled at the old woman, “Well, it’s easy to like Rory.”

“I worry what he’ll do after I die,” June whispered, “I know he’s only staying here for me.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Patricia assured her, “We’ll look after him, I promise.”

June caught Patricia’s hand, “Thank you. Can you make him go home for me just now?”

Patricia nodded, “Of course I will.”

  Rory stared at the coffin feeling Patricia and Josh on either side of him as he said goodbye to his grandmother. He knew she was dying. He was a nurse, he’d seen it plenty of times but for some reason he hadn’t been prepared for losing her. Rory was also trying not to let his anger for his father take over, anger that the man couldn’t get over his issues to come to his mother’s funeral.

It was now a year and a half since the Doctor had appeared and told him that he had no idea where Amelia was, where Rory had discovered something had happened to her and then the Doctor had disappeared again. Losing his gran had thrown Rory into a world where he had no idea what he was going to do now. It was only his two friends standing by his side that kept him going, that kept him from just curling onto a ball of misery while everyone gave him their condolences. Finally they left the cemetery and Rory was guided to the pub where a wake had been set up.

“I can’t do this,” Rory whispered when they reached the entrance, “I can’t...”

Patricia gently rubbed his back, “It’s okay. Josh will take you back to the house. You can stay with us as long as you need.”

Rory hugged her grateful for her support before he let Josh lead him back to the car. He’d been staying with them since his grandmother had died, unable to go back to the home he’d grown up in since she was no longer there.

Exhausted by the day Rory undid his tie and pulled off his jacket discarding them unseen on sofa before he dropped to sit.

It was time to leave Leadworth.

                                  *********************************************

  “Final day at work,” Josh noted when Rory walked into the kitchen, “How did it go?”

Rory shrugged, “It seemed like any other day but we had cake.”

Patricia chuckled, “Bring any for us?”

“Like there was any left,” Rory rolled his eyes before looking at the couple before him, “I never would have made it to this without you two. You know that. I’m so grateful to both of you for becoming my friends and giving me a place to stay for the past few months.” Patricia moved and wrapped him in her arms, “You’re our family, Rory. You know that and we will always be here for you.”

“Even if we hate you for the fact you’re going to see the world while we’re stuck here,” Josh teased, laughing when his fiancé smacked his arm.

Rory chuckled, “Well at least we’ll meet up in Spain in a few months for your wedding.”

“Let’s have dinner,” Patricia said, “And we’ll celebrate your last night with us before you go travelling.”

“Pizza is on the way,” Josh told them.

  Rory grimaced feeling Patricia shake him awake while calling his name. His sleep fogged brain wondered what was going on wincing when she shook him again.

“Go away,” he murmured burying his face into his pillow.

“Rory,” Patricia called, “You need to wake up.” Batting her away he sighed, “Go annoy your fiancé if you can’t sleep.”

“The blue box is back,” Patricia told him.

Rory jumped awake, running to the window he saw the TARDIS sitting there. Pushing on his trainers he ran out the door with Patricia just behind him.

“Rory,” the Doctor greeted when he exited his ship, “Sorry, little later than I intended but the TARDIS just rebuilt herself so there’s always going to be a few glitches.” Rory stared at him, “A little later?” “What is it?” the Doctor looked up, “A couple of hours.” “Try a couple of years,” Rory snapped at him.

The Doctor winced, “Oops.”

“Oops?” Rory yelled, “That’s all you have to say? Because I have spent over a decade wondering what happened to my friend and you appear possibly with answers then bugger off for a few more years.”

“I am sorry, Rory,” the Doctor told him sincerely, “But I’m here now and I want answers as much as you do.”

Sighing Rory said, “Alright.”

“Do you have the letter she left you?”

With a grimace Rory nodded, “I’ll be back in a minute. Do not move.”

“I promise,” the Doctor replied.

  Rory found Amelia’s letter grabbing the rucksack sitting packed for his trip. Reaching the box again he thrust the paper at the man aware of Patricia standing at his side.

The Doctor studied the letter for several moments, licking the paper making Rory wince in disgust.

“Alright,” the Doctor finally said, “I will use the traces of Amelia to do my best to find her.”

“I’m coming,” Rory told him.

The Doctor stared at him for a few minutes before nodding, “Alright. Let’s go.” “I’m coming too,” Patricia said stopping Rory from arguing, “You’re not doing this alone.”

Rory stared at her for a few seconds before shrugging, “Tell Josh you’re coming so he doesn’t worry.”

Patricia patted his arm, “I’ll be right back.”

Rory waited until she entered the house before turning to the Doctor, “We’re going now.”

“You know I have a time machine,” the Doctor noted, “I can get you both back ten minutes ago.”

“Your track record so far doesn’t fill me with confidence,” Rory replied, “I won’t let Josh spend years wondering when she’ll come back. So we go without her.”

Opening the door to the TARDIS the Doctor let Rory inside smiling slightly when he stalled seeing the large room there. Closing the door he quickly started the engines and taking them into a temporal orbit. He glanced over to where Rory stared around the massive room inside the small box. He dropped his bag and slowly took a few steps further inside.

“It’s...It’s...”

“I know,” the Doctor grinned before becoming serious, “Alright, this might take some time but I promise you, Rory that we will find what happened to Amelia.”

 Rory nodded.

The Doctor grinned, “Then let’s get going.”

#fic #doctor who #rory williams #eleventh doctor #au - canon divergence

[nancywheelxr]

Kate hadn’t grown up knowing a Superman.

Well, she had- in the Post-Crisis timeline, or so she heard, Superman and Batman started out at around the same time. Kal-El, or as he was known to the humans, Clark Kent, had pulled Kara’s pod open and set her free from it after she’d spent twenty-four years in the Phantom Zone, around when Batman had pulled Kate from her family’s car, the only survivor of-

One of the survivors of the crash that had killed her mother.

(That was still difficult to adjust to, even if Kate had found out about it before the Crisis)

But even if she did know who he was, before then he would still sound like a myth to her. Someone with too much power to exist on the Earth? Kate already knew about one person like that, and she was going to stick with hers.

It wasn’t like he would have ever gone to Gotham, anyway. Superman would be too good for her city, and however much he tried to clean it up, there would always be more criminals, and more crime.

Kind of like his own city, but without the pretense that everything was okay in the first place.

She knew, deep down, that she should also think the same of Supergirl. But by now she’d worked with her enough, been through enough with her, to know that Kara thought of her and Gotham the same- she hadn’t expected to go there, or meet her, but she had, and she still respected the city and its hero, flaws and all.

(Maybe a little more than respect, considering how right now, they were getting coffee together. But it was more than Kate got from a lot of people, status as the Paragon of Courage be damned)

~

“So… why Supergirl?”

Kara groans, dropping her head into her hands, propped up by her elbows resting on the high table that she and Kate are sitting at together.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Kate says, gently holding Kara’s wrist, making her look at her. “I was just wondering.”

“Right. Because I was too old to be called a girl when I started?” Kara asks. “I know. And I was just about to ask you, ‘why do you get to be Batwoman?’, but I couldn’t find a way of saying that that didn’t sound…”

“Condescending?”

“Weird. And that, yeah, actually.”

“Well, my feelings are fine, if that was what you were worried about. I understand.” Kate says, thinking of Vesper Fairchild, who has definitely said much worse things about Batwoman without knowing she’s saying them about Kate Kane.

“You do?”

Kate nods.

“Yeah, if it weren’t for-“

Kara’s chin is on her hands now, waiting for Kate to continue, but just thinking of Sophie right now makes her want to avoid the subject in front of Kara- it is the definition of complicated- so she puts it off for the moment.

“For there already being a Batgirl, before me, I’m sure I would’ve gotten that name instead.” She finishes. She doesn’t think about how she was jealous of the girl who had claim to that title when she was younger, that someone around her age was paid more attention to by Bruce than his own cousin was.

She doesn’t hate her now, whoever she was. She actually feels sorry for her, and all the shit she must’ve gone through.

“What about you? Was “Superwoman” taken?”

Kara laughs.

It seems so long ago, all of it- saving her sister and the plane she was on, making a costume with Winn, starting to work with the DEO, getting her superhero name. She’d thought, back then, that she might not even make it through her first year. But here she is, almost five years later, talking about it with her voice tinged with nostalgia. She nearly misses it when things weren’t as complicated, when she had to worry about Fort Rozz and its escapees, and her biggest threats were her aunt and uncle and their soldiers. Her universe is much bigger now, even with the merged Earths, and she’s grateful- that expansion did lead her to Kate, after all. But sometimes she still remembers her origin, and there’s no way she would erase any of that, even for what she has now.

“Not exactly.” She says. “I… really hated the name Supergirl at first, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, I believe it.” Kate answers. “Your groaning the second I asked gave you away.”

“Right.” Kara continues. “My boss at the time, Cat Grant, was the head of a media company. The same one I work at now- although back then, I was just her assistant. And after I got started, she decided to give me the name Supergirl.”

“But Kara Danvers had no say in it, I guess.”

“Exactly. I tried to tell her that I thought it was minimizing. But she didn’t want to hear me, and gave me a speech about how that name wasn’t minimizing at all.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Kate says. “Or at least, I know her voice. If I saw her in public, I might just punch her.”

“Yeahhh… maybe don’t do that.” Kara answers, although she also considers the people she’s wanted to throw into the sun. “For what it’s worth, Cat became a mentor to me- as Kara and Supergirl. If you give her a chance, this-“

“Vesper.”

“Vesper could be the same. Or she might just be another critic, and you could decide not to listen to her.”

“Yeah, that possibility sounds way better.”

Kara smiles.

“Besides, I bet she hasn’t had to fight her twin sister, or survived the end of the multiverse.”

Kara looks down, suddenly, and her voice trails off after that, and Kate sees the solemn expression on her face, something in her eyes that makes her want to hug Kara, or sit down with her and a few drinks and let Kara share everything she’s feeling.

But right now, in public, isn’t exactly the right time for that, and so Kate goes with a different approach.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if her broadcasts did, though.”

Kara decides that she’s going to call in and give Vesper a piece of her mind, before Kate sets a hand on her arm and she can think of nothing else.

“For what it’s worth, I think Supergirl is a great name.” she says. “It suits you.”

Kara mirrors the gesture.

“Just like Batwoman suits you.” She says. “So, what else has been going on? Because let me tell you-“

“Oh, good luck trying to top this.” Kate answers, raising an eyebrow.

Kara raises her chin, in what she hopes is a challenging gesture.

“I’m certainly going to.”

“You’re on.”

~

Kara grew up knowing of Batman.

If it hadn’t been for the Danvers, maybe, she would have been adopted by Bruce Wayne- not that she wishes anything with her chosen family had gone differently, but it was an interesting possibility all the same. Just like the possibility of her arriving on time, and her relationships with everyone she knew changing, even if there were still a few constants in her life whom she would’ve met anyway.

But if she’d been taken in by Bruce at the age of thirteen, in this new Earth she now lived on, perhaps she would have made a friend, and found a kindred spirit.

Another cousin of a famous hero, who’d lost her world, and was putting the pieces back together even years afterwards, devoting herself to her city without her cousin’s presence and doing the best she could with a small group of people she held close to her.

Though she hadn’t known Kate Kane back then, she thought, she saw her blossoming friendship with her as a way of making up for lost time, and as they spent more time together, it would only grow and flourish, as they had on their own.

And now that they had each other, operating separately but finding common ground in concepts as big and nebulous as hope and courage and as common as coffee dates and favorite donuts, Kara could see them truly becoming a team- that Kate had once phrased as the “World’s Finest”.

Or, as Kara would say, they were stronger together. Truly exemplifying El Mayarah, in their personal and professional lives, and they both seemed to be happier for it.

Even if Kate was just a bit out of place in National City- as much as she was getting used to the aesthetic.

#hi hello this is the most wonderful thing ever??????? #what do you do when one of your fave authors writes for one of your fave pairings??? #this is so awesome #rachel you are the literal best #i love the parallels so much holy shit #i love this #submission #also can i just say i love kate being slightly bitter towards metropolis? #like thats so in character for the batfam

[houseofglass]

I’ve got to get this off my chest.

Y’all have heard by now that Jared was arrested for public intoxication and assault. Many are gushing support for Jared, making excuses for his behaviour (mental illness, stress, etc.) but I’m not going to. Why?

There is no excuse for his behaviour. There are, however, reasons that contributed to his behaviour.

By ‘inexcusable’ I mean he’s a grown man, already aware of how alcohol affects him, already cognizant of the stress in his life, already in treatment for his depression. If he was barely legal age and new to fame, money, and paparazzi then I’d excuse this as a one-off, a fuckup of mountainous proportions.

But, like I said, he’s a mature adult, so I don’t excuse him.

I do understand there may be evidence we haven’t seen and therefore there may be more to that video than meets the eye. All we know for sure is:

he was intoxicated

he pulled money (or something that looks like money) out of his pocket

he had another person in a headlock

Intoxication may be from a mixed source. He was at his bar, Stereotype, where he’s been known to hang out. He had been drinking. It’s also possible he ingested some other drug as well, but only a blood test will reveal that. We may never know. (some may even blame alcohol interfering with anti-depressant medication)

He pulled money out of his pocket. Why? Some say it was to bribe the police. Sure, I guess. It could also be he remembered to pay his tab and pulled money out to do so. We don’t know, because we don’t have a direct line to the inside of Jared’s mind. I know, from experience, that intoxication can muddle thoughts. He could have simply been counting his money because he remembered he should count his money. Drunk brains don’t function very well.

He had another person in a headlock. Was that violent? Yeah, it was. Even if he was goofing around, it was still violent. Props to Jared for letting go instead of squeezing tighter.

Police arrived and because arrest records are public we know he has two charges of assault and one of public drunkenness totaling $15,000. I don’t know how Austin’s court system works but I imagine Jared will pay the fine and be done with the whole thing.

But it begs the question: what caused this public display of inappropriate behaviour? What are those reasons I mentioned above?

Well, regardless of whether or not you’re a tinhat, Jared and Jensen are very close. They have a tight, unique relationship. One that’s about to change. Jared’s new show Walker, Texas Ranger was picked up (although it may be dropped now, time will tell) and Jensen is releasing a music album. They won’t be filming together, won’t spend nine months of the year together, won’t be around to catch all the day-to-day shit that couples/tight friends catch. They will be two separate people doing two separate things when they used to be two separate people doing the same thing. This adjustment will be difficult for both of them, probably in ways they haven’t yet realized.

Also, Jared’s fan interaction has been limited lately. He’s been spotted at sporting events and bars. Fans get their pics with him and report it online. But other than those two events, where is Jared spotted? Conventions and filming are his job so they don’t count. Events with his wife seem to be more for her blog than for any kind of couple time, therefore also work in my eyes. And maybe my dash isn’t as comprehensive as others in terms of Jared’s whereabouts, but each time a new pic popped up of Jared meeting fans in a bar I’d think, another bar? Another drinking night? It really did seem like the only pics of Jared without Jensen were of Jared drinking. I’m sure someone will point out how wrong I am, which is cool. My general feeling is that bar encounters outweigh others.

Sidebar: this has been bugging me for a while but I was reluctant to post anything about it. Jared drinks a lot, according to social media. It feels like there’s an awful lot of pics of Jared from bars when he’s not working. I’ve seen posts on my dash about how Jared looks happier when he’s out drinking with fans than he is with his wife. Or how Jared is hanging out at a bar while Jensen does *insert whatever event here*. Why? Why would a man who’s closing up on 40 be hanging out in a bar? Doesn’t he have friends to hang out with? Other activities to do? Um, children to parent? I’m sure he does all those things, but when I look at only his media I see a man who drinks a lot. Also, alcohol is a depressant. If you already have depression, alcohol will exacerbate the depression and the person’s thoughts will begin a downward spiral until alcohol is not imbibed. This is a slippery slope, and I’m genuinely hoping Jared sees his behaviour for the escalation that it is and to get that shit under control.

I’ve been here on Earth longer than J2, longer than Misha even, and I know that sometimes people make bad decisions. It happens. Mind altering substances assist in bad decisions. After all, the first part of the brain disabled by alcohol is the self-assessment part, so people usually think they’re just fine while drinking when they are, in fact, not fine at all.

But what’s really important here is how Jared behaves in the aftermath and when fans have forgotten this chink in his armour. If he continues to go out drinking when not working, he’s likely to repeat the bad behaviour or come up with whole new bad behaviours. If he slows down and remains sober around fans he’s less likely to repeat this event.

But that’s the key. The incident itself is regrettable and probably embarrassing for him. It’s how he behaves in the future that matters.

(ps - it’s almost like Jared wanted to be important again. He told a story about breaking up a fight recently, France maybe? I don’t remember. But he’s broken up fights before and boasted about it. He’s also been involved in fights where someone was insulting the person he was with. Like, in his drunken mind he thought he was being the hero but things went sideways. It’s interesting that this occurred right around the time Christian Kane was guest starring on Supernatural and Jensen was headlining yet another non-Supernatural event. Jared struggles with feeling like he’s not enough, I wonder if he felt inadequate somehow and it built up to the point of the incident this past Saturday night/Sunday morning. I’d love to know, but I understand I’ll never have that privileged access to his life.)

#Jared Padalecki #arrested #public drunkenness #assault #I hope he's okay #I hope he corrects his behaviour

[blackasteriia]

he's just getting to the point of coming back. it'll be a while until he's there. but he's getting there. he's present enough to see her trying to reach for something he'd left on a shelf that he'd considered easily accessible, and let it fall off of its resting place into her hand.

Static charged the air. A storm was coming. Outside, the winds buffeted thehouse and rustled the trees. The dishwasher churned in the kitchenand beeped, ending the cleaning cycle. The clock whittled away theseconds in a constant, paced, click. Xion laid on the couch, thecushions sagging under her weight. Her hands folded over her stomach,nausea twisting in her throat. An anxious poison built in her veins,soaking her bones. Her thoughts raced in circles. Around and around,intrusive, and unwelcome. Chased her down, pinned her beneath theirweight. Sleep remained a distant shore.

The clock chimed and she counted the strokes to midnight. Xion sat-up andthe blankets spilled off her shoulders to pool in her lap. She curledher legs underneath her. The soft flannel of her sleep pants ruckedat her ankles. Xion rubbed her hands down her face, scrubbing at hereyes. She groaned and growled, frustration bubbling-up. She slippedfrom beneath the covers. Her feet hit the cold wood floors with athud. Xion plodded from the living room and into the kitchen. Sheflicked on the lights and blinked to adjust her vision.

She walked to where the coffee maker rested by the sink, plugged into theoutlet. Xion filled the pot with water from the faucet. She boughtcoffee last week, cheap black grounds from the dollar store. Xion setthe maker to brew. While it boiled, she leaned back against thekitchen counter, elbow braced along the edge. The storm builtoutside, punctuated with brief drum strikes of rain and hail. Thunderrolled, deep and rumbling, the foundation of the house trembled. Xionhad left her phone to charge by the stove. She regarded it for amoment. A though punctured the cacophony of her mind, text Aeleus.Yet, as her mind went through the motions. Picking-up the device andwriting a message, she couldn’t compose words. There was nothing tosay. If he was asleep then he need the rest more than she neededcompany.

The coffee maker finished brewing. Xion poured coffee into a mug that shefetched from the cabinets. She sipped from it. The taste was bitterand awful, metallic, a bit like brown sludge. Her body metabolizedcaffeine far quicker than its effects set in, there was no reward inthe drink. It was warm though. Heat seeped into her hands, soothingand pleasant. It was a bit like a slap in the face, thedisorientating wake-up call she needed. A breath of fresh air afterhours of drowning. Xion drank half the cup. She left it in the sinkatop a precarious pile of dirty dishes that she was ignoring.

Xion left the kitchen and walked around the front of the funeral home. Shepassed the front desk and then entered the embalming room. Xionturned on the lights, illuminating the dark space. She tied her hairback with a rubber band then washed her hands in the sink. Afteryanking on a pair of disposable gloves, Xion retrieved the body fromthe fridge. She checked the files and paperwork. Her notes on whatthe family wanted, confirming the subject’s identity. She was a youngwoman with long blonde hair who died in the hospital of an opioidoverdose. Twenty years old and laid out on on a metal slab decadesbefore she should be. Xion planned on working on her tomorrowmorning, but her sleeplessness changed that.

Cold storage trapped the woman in the first twelve hours of death. Muscleslocked and stiff in rigor mortis. Her skin blotchy and pale turnedashen, and cold to the touch. The cuts, sores, and ulcers up her armsand throat told a story she no longer could. Xion used a disinfectantto clean the body. She massaged the stiffness from the arms,shoulders, and body of the woman. With the body prepped, Xion turnedher attention to the face. Using a special suture kit and thinstring, Xion sewed shut the jaw through the gums and nose. Put eyecaps to prop-up the eyes. She made a few adjustments to the face toensure a serene expression.

She was a small woman, not even a hundred pounds, so the embalming didn’ttake long. Xion worked the muscles to encourage the fluid into theveins. She could remember ‘Taker teaching her to do this. How toensure the body remained supple, life-like, and didn’t bruise orswell. All the little things that’d help the family mourn, theirfinal chance to say goodbye to their beloved. It was a carefulprocess but finished in less than an hour. Xion focused on the woundson the arms and hands. She’d need wax to fix those and some clevermake-up. She’d leave dressing for tomorrow.

Xion kept the wax in a cabinet above the counter but when she pulled openthe door, there was none. Xion cussed as she remembered. She used thelast of it last week on a different body and forgot to order more.Wasn’t on the to-do list. Her fingers tapped on the counter, lipspursed. ‘Taker never would’ve made this mistake. It’d take a coupleof days to order it too. Only if– an idea, traced along a longtrack of memories. It was worth a shot, otherwise, she’d have todrive an hour to a supply store tomorrow.

A month ago when Xion admitted this was her job now, she reorganizedthe whole embalming room. She lacked a full foot of her father’sheight and adjusted things to suit her. She thought she movedeverything to the bottom shelves, but now she was desperate andhoping. ‘Taker kept the old wax on the top shelves, she never movedit because she ordered new stuff. Xion stepped back, changing herperspective, and stood on her tip-toes. There on a top-shelf was anold jar of wax. Xion groaned to herself. She yanked off her gloveswith dramatic exasperation. Note to self: order wax tomorrowmorning, first thing.

Xion hooked a leg up on the counter and pushed-up to reach for the jar.Her fingers fell short by inches. Xion bounced on her toes as shefell, then lifted both knees up onto the counter. Gaze tracing-up,her eyes caught movement. The jar tilted and fell. Xion caught it inher lifted hand, her grip slipped and she fumbled with it. Xionbrought the jar against her chest and then palmed it, secured. Browfurrowed, Xion eyed the wax. That jar of wax was on the shelf.Four inches in, at least. Gravity did not tip it over into herwaiting hands.

Xion called bullshit.

Her eyes focused, noting the wood grain of the shelf before her. Slow hergaze shifted over her shoulder as she turned. Her vision tracked thewalls and cabinets and tools. The bleached white clothes. Washed outwith the monochrome of the barren equipment, tile, and walls. Softshadows piled in the corners, beneath the tables and chairs. A gustof wind and the house trembled. The frame settled. The hairs on theback of her neck stood. Xion acknowledged what’d she ignored forhours. There was a paradigm shift in the air, a change in theatmosphere. Cold seeped through Xion’s hands and shoulders. Asudden lack of loneliness. The home was no longer empty.

Xion put down the jar of wax and slid off the counter. Methodical andpatient, she returned the body to the fridge. She cleaned-up hertools and finished her notes. Xion turned off the lights on her wayout and returned to the kitchen. At the base of the stairs leadingupstairs, she paused. The upper floor laid in deep darkness.Untouched since she last cleaned there a week ago. Xion gripped thebanister and mounted the first step. The stairs groaned beneath herweight and stride. At the landing, she peered down the halls. Thedoors closed and the lights out. She dared not disturb the unsettledpeace.

After 'Taker’s death Xion sought the advice of the town wise women. Rather, the old ladies who gathered at the cafe for lunch and bridgeevery Friday afternoon. They consoled her on her, 'loss.’ These agedwomen, ears adorned by complex, dangling jewelry, taught Xion the art ofliving on. They told her to do as she felt ready. Things must remainas they were, until it is 'time,’ for them to no longer be. Xionwasn’t ready for anything. Everything was as 'Taker and Kane leftit. Preserved in careful detail– lacking only the men themselves.They weren’t here to maintain the boundaries of their space, soXion did it for them. The embalming room had practical reasons forthe change but the upstairs was a sacred place. Move an inch of itand the foundation of the whole house would crumble.

Xion entered 'Taker’s room in the North corner of the house. The hingescreaked as she shouldered it open. Moonlight spilled through thesplit curtains, illuminating the room in a pale light. Old posters ofbands, bikes, and favored wrestlers adorned the walls. A calendar ofHarley-Davidson’s from 2002 hung over the desk. A quilt laid on thetwin bed tucked even with the pillows. Left undisturbed on thenightstand was a notebook of measurements and bike designs. Labeledat the top: “XION.” The theoretical gift for her eighteenthbirthday, she assumed. One day she’d execute his vision– but notnow, she’d seen it all before and paid it no mind.

Xion had stashed 'Taker’s clothes in the wardrobe as they came through thewash. She peeled open the oak door and peered inside. Xion rifledthrough the clothes. Her hand landed on the smooth, weighted leatherof his old duster– The one he always wore. Xion pulled the coat offthe hook. She stepped to stand in the light and look it over. Xionworked the fabric in her hands. Aeleus found it in the truck, whereshe left it. It didn’t smell like 'Taker anymore, it smelled likethe soap she used to clean it. Careful not to crease it, Xion foldedthe duster into a square and tucked it under her arm. It’d be asuitable offering. A small change, a chip in the armor of theupstairs. Xion closed the wardrobe and slipped out of the room. Sheclosed the door behind her and turned the latch. She walked down thestairs.

In the mudroom behind the kitchen, Xion pulled on her boots and lacedthem up. She shrugged on her coat. She stamped out the back door andclambered down the porch step. An unusual chill nipped at her noseand cheeks. The storm had passed, leaving the desert frosted white,crisp and frigid. The clouds cleared to reveal constellations and afull moon. The sun long was gone and the heat dissipated from theland, there was nothing left but the cold. Her hands tucked into herpajama pants pockets. Xion’s boot heel crushed leaves and driedgrass as she walked north. She forded a stream, babbling over rocks,with a confident bound. A sparse stand of trees guarded the pathwayto the gate.

The gate of wrought iron was the furthest boundary of the yard. Threelocks of gold, silver, and iron, held it all in. 'Taker had keys,somewhere, but Xion never bothered. Her hand lifted from her side,the hilt of the keyblade slotted to the curve of her fingers. Steelmolded of her will, formed of her heart’s desire. Xion pointed theblade tip at the gate. Light flashed and the locks unbound. Xionpulled the chain and entered. She locked the gate behind her. Xionturned to her left hand and delved into the yard.

Four decades of life passed along the pathway. Tended lawns and thepristine tombstones marked a modern era. The dates fell backcenturies as she walked. To stone markers carved by unsteady hands, the finaltestament to names long faded. The cruel march of time marked inquarried marble, quartz, and limestone. Ravens raised a complaint intheir hoarse voices. They darted between the winter stripped boughsof the trees. Magic ran deep in the Earth. It saturated the soil andpermeated the water. The grass grew thick of ancient art, manipulatedby those long passed. A charge coursed the air, uncorrelated to theearlier storm. The hearts, souls, and minds of the dead still exertedtheir will here. The veil ran thin, gossamer dancing with shadows onthe far side.

A church of stone and wood rose between the trees. A monument to aforgotten religion and an unknown god. The doors were of a dark pine,hardened by five centuries of life. Xion used her full weight to pushthem open. Moonlight and shadows draped the insides of the church.Wooden benches lined aisles, askew and rotted. Someone had drawnprofane graffiti art on the West wall. A throne of iron sat on araised dais at the back wall. Ominous and yet mixed with such ahistory that Xion couldn’t help but feel familiar, comfortable.Xion walked the center aisle and then circled to the right of thethrone.

Dust, sand, and dirt, covered the trap door in pillows. An aero spellcleared it away so Xion could lift it open by the handle. Xiondropped into the black depth and landed on bent knees on the stonebelow. She stared down into complete darkness, so much that her eyescouldn’t adjust. Xion snapped her fingers and an orb of lightappeared. It hovered beside her as she walked down the steps. At thebottom landing were doors of cast iron, knockers affixed to each.Xion pushed them open enough that she could slide through and enterthe crypt.

Arches of stone bore the weight of the building. Each arch carved withsymbols, eyes, and patterns of lost rituals. In alcoves along thewalls were the dead of the Valdis family. Skeletal remains laid onshelves hewn from the rock walls. Coffins and caskets rested in rowsthrough the center of the first chamber. Xion walked further back,through a narrow catacomb, and to the furthest chamber. It was empty butfor three caskets on stone pedestals. Copper plaquesread their names and dates. 'Taker’s mother, father, and himself.Shadows slunk by as Xion approached . 

Inscribed on ‘Taker’s plaque, read:

                                   “Adam Joseph Valdis-Cowell

                                            “The Undertaker”

                              April 19, 1965 - November 16, 2003″

Forty days had passed and it felt like a good number, a solid number.Something Xion would mark on a calendar if she thought of it. Xionplaced the duster atop the casket. A sigh rolled through her as shesunk down, back to the stone pedestal. Xion buried'Taker in his ring gear and the keys to his favorite bike. Noembalming, no tricks of preservation, she’d let him rot away in hisdeath. Leave behind the bones, like his ancestors. It had felt wrongwhen she first prepared his body. Wrong, to see him still and cold.Like he could sit-up any moment and start talking to her. He was tooyoung, like the girl whose jaw Xion sowed shut an hour ago. It wasworse to lock him in a box and tuck him away in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” Xion said. She always began there, an apology tumbled-outbefore she could catch it. “I know Aeleus says it ain’t my fault. Ijustknow I can’t stop thinking of all the ways I screwed-up. Counting upall my little mistakes. If I made one less–”

Xion paused, she rubbed her thumb over her fingers in slow, comfortingcircles. She swallowed hard.

“Maybe, we wouldn’t be here at all,” Xion finished. “You’d be here. I’m not doing great with the home. I’m fine working on the bodies, it’s all procedures. My hands know how to do that, but it’s when I gotta talk and use my head, I keep messing up. The money and the people, and the orders, keeping everything lined-up– It’s so much to keep track of. I feel like I barely got my neck above water.”

A sigh rolled through her. Xion reached back and undid the ponytailfrom the nape of her neck. She snapped the rubber band back aroundher wrist. She rubbed her hands over her face and eyes. Her fingersthen worked up into her hair, pulling through the strands.

“Aeleus isn’t okay,” Xion muttered. She turned her cheek to the side. Theair was cold and stagnant down here. It was hard to breathe. “Hetries to hide it from me, but I can tell. He’s lost weight and he’snot eating. He doesn’t want to do anything but feel sorry. I don’tblame him. He’s lost you and now he’s stuck with me. Not how he’dthought it’d work-out, huh? It’s like, he’s trying to follow you andI don’t know what to do about it. I-I can’t fix it, what could I even say?!

“I’m just–” Xion’s voice broke, a high stuttered breath broke through her chest.Her hands lifted to her mouth to stifle a cry. Tears pricked hereyes, burned the corners and traced her cheeks. “I don’t know if Ican do this. Keep the home running. Help Aeleus– I wanted to get my GED, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen. If I stop at all, it’ll all come crashing downon me.”

She ducked her head to her chest. There was no swallowing the sob thatbroke from her. Xion buried her face against her knees. Her armsthreaded around her legs. Her shoulders trembled with each rackingcry, gasping for breath and bawling. It was an inevitable breakpoint.When all the things crumbled around her. The exhaustion and the fear.Rage, that she’d find one good thing and the universe would snatch ltfrom her. It was cruel and unfair, and no one to blame but herself.She broke it like she did everything– it should shock no one, leastof all herself.

In time she wiped her tears, left raw and hallowed-out. Couldn’t cryforever. Her hand massaged the back of her neck where tension formedat the base of her jaw. Xion whimpered and gasped, choking andhiccuping still at random interval. She clutched her knees to herselfand curled in tight. The best she could do for comfort. The silenceweighed on her, not even the wind for company. Voice still shaking,she sought to fill the crypt.

“I don’t know why I came here. Why I’m talking to your body,” Xionmused. As if there was someone left to listen to her rambles. Therewasn’t, she was talking to a liquefied corpse; A casket filled withbody sludge. Gatherings of bones and ashes. “Where I’m from, no onereally dies, they don’t even leave bodies. So long as you remember them,they stay with you. They remain in your heart– they go somewhereelse, where you can’t see them but they’re still there. I don’t knowif that’s how it is here. I can’t shake this feeling that you’restill around, somehow. Maybeit’s not you, as I knew you, but something’s left.”

Xion tapped her finger against her arm.

“Might be losing my mind,” Xion muttered. “Wistful think– But I knewyour magic, and when you died that night… it was gone. Now it’sback and I’m… an idiot.”

Xion laughed, low and in her chest. She leaned back, head tilting againstthe casket side. The slightest grin teased her lips. “Please,please don’t give me hope, daddy. I miss you. I know it doesn’t getbetter, we just get used toit. It’s never going to be the same without you though, and I just,I wish you were here.”

She sagged, hair rucking-up along the line of her neck. She’d no right tobe down here begging for forgiveness. His body was here, all he leftbehind. It was foolish to think that the physical proximity wouldmake any difference. The truth was she’d never hold his hand again,or hug him. It was just a year or so, she had with 'Taker, but it was the best of her life. All she had left was that last time, forty days ago. She had to get overit, accept it, move on. Somehow, someway, she had to. She pushed toher feet and looked down at the duster atop his casket, folded neat.Xion began to turn away.

She made it a whole stride before an invisible rope tugged her back. Somepsychological tether that brought her back to the casket. Shepicked-up the duster again. She thought she’d give it back to him, soshe couldn’t cling to it any longer. Start to strip the Jenga towerthat was the funeral home. One-piece at a time. It was the last thinghe gave to her and even if she did not deserve it, or ask for it, orappreciate it. She wasn’t ready for it to be gone. Xion stepped backfrom the casket. She walked out of the crypt, crawled back throughthe trap door. She sniffed and rubbed dust and tears from her cheeks.

Xion paused at the foot of the throne in the church. She sat down on thedais to let her eyes adjust to the dark. She placed the folded dusterat her side. For a moment she leaned back onto the cool stone.Exhaustion struck her like a bell chime. The physical and emotionalweight of past sleepless nights coming to toll. Her eyes closed once,twice, and sleep took her. Xion awoke, hours later, to birdsong.Sunlight streamed through the windows. Her back and shoulders stiff,her fingers cold. She curled on her side, arm wedged under her head.And the duster, tucked over her shoulders. 

#deadmenanddemons #✰*✦ The face in the mirror⎧IC⎫ #✰*✦ The Waking Hour⎧VERSE⎫ #✰*✦ Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet!⎧Asks⎫ #death tw #gore tw #drug use tw #I want you all to imagine a spooky 'Taker screaming completely unheard at his idiot daughter #who fell asleep exposed in the cold on SOLID ROCK in the middle of winter #she's a gift tbh