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stxrvel · 2 years

Text

the 5 stages of (my) life

summary: he was everything. there was no before or after him. it was just him.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: i think 7k?

warnings: thoughts of loneliness, depersonalisation, mention of depressive symptoms, a lot of bad words at some point, implicit descriptions of sex. i wrote this to be pure angst, idk if i got it, we'll see, you'll tell me.

note: i was watching Grey's Anatomy today and a specific episode about a couple inspired me to write this. it's too inspired by that so thank you Grey's! i don't know if i got the angst i wanted, i hope i did. i actually wrote this just with suffering on my mind. anyway, hope yall like it!! (English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!) also, I uploaded this at half past one in the morning so I didn't have time to edit the quotation marks, but tomorrow night I'll make the text look much nicer!

thank u for reading!

You never thought things would go this far.

"I'm not going to stand here and watch you risk your life because you're incapable of expressing your feelings. I'm not worth being put through this."

"You're talking about my fucking life! Why do you want to take control of all the shit I do now? Fuck you."

"I can't believe how fucking insane you've become."

You never thought things would get worse like this.

"I gave up a lot of things for you and you know it!"

"You make it sound like I forced you to. I never asked you to give up your life for me!"

"Exactly, that's the damn problem! You've never asked me to do anything, you've never asked me to do anything, I've just done all this stuff on my own trying to cope with a relationship that's become… one-sided!"

You had heard for a long time how a great many people had said that their best relationships had started with a flame. You couldn't count on the fingers of your hands the number of times you've heard someone say that the best relationship is the one that is always alive, where they keep the flame burning.

But what if it's not a flame? What if it all started with a fire?

You'd heard a lot of things about love, about life, about attachment, but you'd never really experienced it, and you couldn't know how, with the lifestyle you led, your reactions would be when you finally had one. Although, honestly, you didn't expect to ever have one after so many disappointments and abandonments; however, there was one thing that was common about love, that you had heard everyone say: it comes when you least expect it.

But the moment came and, after that event, you considered that your life had only five stages. Only five truly remarkable things that had brought you to the eternal extreme of misery. There was nothing before, there was nothing after. There was only him.

You had seen that man, by far, about seven times in the last month. He had a stern look on his face, as if he was in a constant staring match with someone inside his head, or as if he was someone completely drained of emotion, who had lived and felt too much and was tired of it.

Or maybe he was just unfriendly.

Every time you went to therapy, within the last four weeks, you met that man.

The two of you always waited, sitting across from each other in the narrow hallway, trying fiercely to avoid each other's gazes. Or well, you tried not to meet his too much, sometimes it really felt too heavy. Then he would be called first and, more often than not, he would come striding out with his hands clasped. If his vibe was too strong for the session, your therapist never tried to point it out. When he left, the doctor would appear behind him with her typical half-smile calling you by your last name, even though you had asked her not to do so several times.

The other times, which were not so common, the man actually took the time to look serene. You even thought you saw him give you a nod in greeting once, but you couldn't be completely sure of that.

You had never spoken to each other, you were just two strangers who happened to be in the same place at the same time of day at certain times of the week. Still, sometimes, when his eyes met yours, you felt like you were looking into a mirror.

Anyway, you had never spoken to each other, until one day you decided to change that, just because what was the worst that could happen?

"After a while it feels like you have no reason to come, don't you think?"

The man turned his head, and it was the first time he saw you out of volition. His clear eyes moved in an almost imperceptible way, analysing something about you, your face, your clothes, your posture. He looked like a predator ready to strike, but he didn't count on you being a very, very chill gazelle.

"I don't know if you can relate, but it's been really hard for me to come these last few times. I think my only motivation is to come here to have a battle with you of who can go the longest without seeing the other for 30 minutes even though our feet are almost touching?"

You thought you heard a snort in response. Mmm, it wasn't much, but worse was nothing.

"You could just not come," he replied, more crudely than you expected, actually surprising you because you didn't expect him to even pay attention to you.

"Yes, I could," you agreed with him, your gaze drifting to the white tiles, "Anyway, I don't have someone who really cares that I'm okay."

You twisted your lips in a very conformist gesture, and dismissed your attempt at conversation as a failure. Indeed, what was the worst that could happen? That the man would think you were pitiful. But what does it matter? He is a stranger. He's the only person you see regularly besides your therapist. Why should you care that the conversation didn't work? You shouldn't expect the opposite. At some point he'll stop going, he can't be as bad as you. When you least expect it, it will just be you in that narrow hallway again.

"Therapy can be very counterproductive for people who are alone."

You looked up when the man spoke again. You didn't know if you were seeing wrong, but his gaze wasn't as hard as before. He seemed… sympathetic.

"If it makes you feel any better, you're not alone when we wait in this hallway."

You didn't answer him. You watched him as if he were a fly swatted on a wall. You didn't know what to say. What was that supposed to be? Words of support? From a stranger? And what was supposed to be a response to them? That man had flipped the table on you, catching you off guard, and that didn't make you feel very good.

You watched him even after a while in silence, when he had already looked away, his head was down and he had focused on other things. You didn't know what your scrutiny was about; you didn't know whether you were looking for a lie or a mockery, a truth or a ruse. You didn't even know what it was all about. But what does it matter anyway? He's a stranger. He's a stranger sharing that narrow corridor with you. A stranger. A stranger who gave you a few words of support. A stranger. It's a stranger. He is a person.

You shook your head, suddenly regaining your composure. You ran your hands over the fabric of your trousers several times, up and down, down and up. Constantly. About ten times.

You didn't know if it was just you, but you felt suddenly obfuscated in that corridor. As if the walls had invisible hands closing around your throat.

You didn't really know much. You only knew that after the doctor called the man, James, you would never again take the liberty of speaking to strangers as if they were acquaintances, especially those in therapy.

But your mind went blank when James stood up and, before he left, looked at you as if it was something he had planned to do. As if he really wanted to do it. As if he had intended to…

No.

No more.

It didn't work.

Of course, it goes without saying that it didn't work.

How could it work? You saw him at least twice a week. And you were weak. Too weak. Too weak. Extremely and potentially vulnerable to suddenly hitting people who gave you a little affection and understanding. You were vulnerable to hitting people. You were vulnerable to ending up in therapy. You were vulnerable.

So what didn't work? Trying to limit your conversations with James to looks. Over the next three weeks, he seemed to have made it his mission to try to keep you company. Did he have any idea how uncomfortable that was for you? But you weren't going to tell him, how could you? Apparently the man wasn't a grumpy, mean looks machine, he was definitely a person who was getting some therapy. He was a person who understood your situation because he had to go through it himself. He was a person. He was a stranger.

Mostly, at that moment, you remembered the conversation that had led you to be in that coffee shop. It was strange. You felt alien to yourself, to your surroundings, but you tried to keep your mind enlightened so you wouldn't freak out.

"You look different."

"We saw each other three days ago."

James twisted his lips. "That's no excuse for not noticing that you look different."

You took a deep breath.

"You really made it your business to talk about something every time we see each other. Did you get tired of me beating you in the staring duels?"

"I'm just trying to get you back in therapy."

"By harassing me with questions?"

"By turning me into a person who cares."

You frowned. The constant knot in your chest was starting to become more and more unbearable. You felt the food from that morning in your throat.

"You'll get the opposite."

James pursed his lips and held up his hands.

"Hey, are you doing anything on Saturday?"

That had been the first time. Yes. Completely out of the loop, somehow you'd agreed the first time. And maybe it wasn't as bad as you'd hoped. Or maybe it was. You had no idea. Just as you had no idea how you had ended up in the same situation for the fifth time.

Fifth time? My goodness.

"You're particularly quiet today," James' face suddenly materialised in front of you.

At what fucking point had he arrived?

"I'm always quiet."

"Not as quiet as today. Are you okay?"

"What are we doing?" you blurted out suddenly. You didn't even process the words in your head until you saw the man's face contort in confusion.

"What are we doing?" James repeated your question, "We're having coffee in a coffee shop."

"You're a top notch clown, you know that?"

The man let out a laugh, and you watched his shoulders move in time with his breaths.

"We're just sharing time. Don't freak out."

"Sharing time?"

"Yes, sharing time."

"I don't think I've shared time with someone in a long time."

"That's not bad. It's good to share time with yourself."

You twisted your lips. You stared at the bubbles in your coffee, still steaming on the table.

"I had to learn to share time with myself," you looked up to see him with his head cocked to one side, a gesture you had learned to associate with his absolute attention to your words. "You've shared time with yourself?"

James nodded.

"All the time, to tell you the truth. I can barely escape myself."

You smiled at him. The constant knot in his chest seemed to have subsided for now.

"I guess we both got to learn."

The man raised his glass of black coffee, tilting his head, "It's the hazards of the job."

Yes, that was definitely what it had to be about. The things that constantly occupied you outside of coffee shops and therapy. Of the things that occupied your head so that you didn't delve into your intrusive thoughts, even though sometimes they seemed to come alive and present themselves in the faces of the people you saw in your daily life.

Undoubtedly it must have been because of that night job. It wasn't a job you loved, it was a job you imposed on yourself to try to make yourself feel better at night when you were trying to sleep. It was a duty. It was a task you couldn't refuse. Too many people had already died for you to give up. You had nothing left.

Many people said it was the job of a vigilante; other people said it was the job of a criminal. In the end, what did it really matter as long as it left you with a clear conscience?

Your therapist knew, but you didn't know if James knew. If he was aware of it and preferred to overlook it to have coffee with you. Or if he knew and preferred to ignore it so as not to ruin things. Or if he knew and pretended he didn't so you wouldn't notice he was doing it all out of pity. Or if he didn't know.

Honestly, you didn't know which was worse.

Sometimes you thought things were better when you were just strangers in a narrow hallway. Sometimes you thought it would be better if you didn't have to make an emotional commitment to him, even though you knew you were already doing it; unconsciously you were doing it.

You had always believed that it was better to be alone. Not to have company. Not to share time with someone you could potentially lose. It was easier to get the job done when you got home and didn't have to answer a text or remember that there's someone waiting for you to text them that you got home safe and sound.

"Hey, don't overthink it."

James' voice broke your concentration. You focused your gaze on his face, suddenly feeling oblivious to the whole scenario.

"You don't have to give it a name, or even think about it. If you really, from the bottom of you, didn't want any kind of company, don't you think you wouldn't have come the first time I asked you?"

"Are you saying this is what I want?"

"I'm saying that you're a person who's used to being alone, but you don't have to be if you don't want to be."

"You're an enigma."

James smiled. "Thank you. I think the same about you."

But it was true what he'd said, you were thinking too much. One of the things your therapist kept telling you was to try to stop living in your head. Acknowledge your surroundings, feel every sensation and take in every possible smell.

It was difficult when the reason you wanted to be in your head all the time was the same reason that all your senses were perceiving at the same time.

But you tried. You felt the wood of the table and the warmth of the coffee cup, you took in the smell of caffeine and James's perfume, a little piney and citrusy, you savoured the coffee left in your mouth from the last time you took a sip. Slowly you tried to bring yourself back to that moment, to focus on your present and, sadly, to acknowledge that you were in a coffee shop with James Barnes.

It was something you constantly shied away from. To acknowledge that you spent time with him. With him. That he deliberately chose to spend his time with you. That you, intentionally, decided to spend your time with him. With the one who started out as a stranger. A person. A friend. A…

No.

It had been a while since you had decided to stop closing yourself off to all the possibilities life had to offer. Sometimes you didn't recognise how you got to that point, but other times you felt something close to pride for allowing yourself to go that far. And, really, it could have been one of the best or one of the worst decisions you had ever made in your life.

You spent weeks trying to deny James coming into your life, but the moment you opened the door to him, you had only gone up.

You didn't know you missed the company of a friend on sleepless nights and confessions. You didn't know you longed for the warmth of a lover until hours passed and you couldn't tear yourself away from each other. You didn't know you wasted time denying the feeling. You didn't know that you needed to take a few days off from the exhausting work you had set for yourself. You didn't even know that the work was exhausting.

When you were able to recognise all those things, you were also able to recognise that you had been living life on the edge. You were constantly exposed to everything before you met James. Exposed to danger, to death, to loneliness. You were living too fast because you felt you had no time, that at any moment you would run out of time and you wouldn't have done enough.

And then you finally decided to give yourself a break. From everything. Absolutely everything. Everything.

You moved in with James.

Yeah, definitely.

You took turns shopping. You took turns doing the dirty dishes. You took turns cleaning the flat. It felt like perfect harmony; like suddenly everything was in its place and it seemed like nothing could go wrong from that point on.

"Wait, wait!" you exclaimed with laughter. You moved your body off the bed, the peach-coloured sheet covering your body. You tried to stretch to reach for your mobile phone on the nightstand but James' hands around your waist prevented you from moving too much.

"You can answer that when we're done," the man purred, his hands straining, but not too hard, to pull you back onto the bed.

"Hold on a moment, James Barnes," you mumbled back, when you finally reached for the mobile phone and let out a triumphant laugh.

Vanessa Lennox, you read on the screen, as you felt James cling to your back.

"It's Vanessa," you told him as you unlocked the phone to check her messages.

"Vanessa texts you all the time."

"I know."

"All the time."

"That I know."

"These nights are supposed to be for us. She's not asking you out, is she?"

"No, no, she's…"

I'm in trouble. Can you come over?

"She's all right."

I can't, but I'll write to Tommy. He told me he was watching today, he must be near where you are.

"Are you sure?" you felt James' breath on the back of your neck, as his lips began to touch the most sensitive parts of your back.

"Yes…" you replied in a whisper. "She's going to be fine."

"Then stop turning your back on me," James spoke, his breath colliding against the small of your back. You arched unconsciously. "Look at me."

You inhaled air sharply, leaving the mobile phone locked to the side of the bed. You let James's hands guide your movements until you were trapped in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

"You're bossy sometimes, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Only you, to be honest."

"Yeah, sure you have," you smiled incredulously.

You stirred until you could stand face to face with the man you shared a bed with every night. His light eyes quickly met yours, and his hands squeezed each side of your waist.

It was getting a little chilly. There were nights when you didn't know how you could stand to be so long without clothes under those sheets. It was easier for James, the weather didn't affect him as much as it did you at the moment. You shivered as a chill ran through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You pulled your body close to his, settling your head where his neck and shoulder met.

"Maybe the window is open," you heard him say.

"You know I always close the windows all over the flat before I go to bed."

"Okay, then we'd better figure out a way to get you warm."

As he finished speaking, the man moved, lowering himself from his position until his head was at the same level as yours. His eyes smiled at you as your teeth unconsciously flickered from the cold your body felt. His mouth also stretched into a smile, one of the many smiles you had learned to love. It was a very homely smile. The kind of smile that only you could see, that only you could see, that only you could see. It was a very domestic smile. It was the smile.

"Do you want me to get the other sheet?"

"No," you answered quickly. "I'm fine. We can proceed."

James let out a laugh. His eyes grew small from the flex of his cheeks as he laughed. You saw every flex and line of his face and it was like a balm to your mind.

It wasn't long before the man, in the midst of his smile and that feeling of ecstasy, brought his face close to yours and kissed you as if he hadn't kissed you in years.

Kissing James was like touching heaven. It was like being at peace after years of constant war. It was a great, vast, calm ocean. It was the absolute silence of tranquillity. It was like a great rest after years and years of travel. With his kisses you could begin to believe that you would never be alone again. With his kisses you didn't feel alone. With his kisses you believed it was possible to never be alone again. With his kisses you lost the fear of accepting him unconditionally in your life.

With his kisses, you lost the fear of loving him.

You loved the way he cradled the side of your face when he kissed you, every time, without fail. You loved the way he would start slow, soft, so tender, then fill you with passion and control your mouth without weariness or fatigue. You loved the way he then moved his hands all over your waist to the curve of your buttocks, as if he was admiring every millimetre of your skin through his touch. You loved the way he made love to you afterwards, sometimes so subtle and sometimes so out of control.

To have James was to have the best of everything at the same time.

"Are you getting up early tomorrow?" James asked as he pulled away from you. When you saw his eyes, his pupils were dilated and his breathing resembled yours: quickened and eager.

"No."

"Good."

He kissed you hard.

"Because you're not leaving this bed until Sunday."

James had begun to accept occasional missions that Fury gave him. You never agreed. No matter when or where they asked you, you would never have agreed to it. But clearly you couldn't just keep him in the flat until the idea was out of his head. You had thought about it a few times, but… no.

You tried to adjust to the fact that he wouldn't be around as much as before, but it was very difficult. It felt as if you had been given the most delicious candy in the whole world, left to treasure it, to savour it a little at a time, to get used to having it next to you, only to have it ripped away from you without warning, totally unprepared, leaving you to realise that everything was really out of your control. You didn't have the candy in your domain, you had been allowed to have the candy and then it was taken away from you.

"Try to concentrate," you heard Vanessa's voice.

You looked up to find her watching you from the roof of the building across the street. You felt a strong desire to rip the communicator from your ear and stomp it to dust with your boot. It was strange. It was a feeling of constant anger that you didn't know how to control. You were constantly angry except when James came to the flat.

"I'm focused."

"You better be," Tommy spoke up, "because my life depends on it."

"You shut your mouth and focus on not losing sight of the target."

"Vanessa, remind me why I agreed to do this."

"Because you're a great friend who supports absolutely everything we do."

Friend. At what point did you start to consider someone a friend? James was your friend. You thought you considered him that. Your partner. Your friend. James was your boyfriend.

"And you're totally unconditional to us."

A friend is unconditional. James is your friend. He's your partner. Friend. James is unconditional to you?

"I have to start working on my boundaries."

"No, our friend needs to start working on her temper. She doesn't get the required amount of sex a day and she's already starting to freak out."

You frowned.

"So you consider your friend's problems to boil down to sex alone?" you snapped at Vanessa, not avoiding the sour tone with which your words came out. You couldn't help but take it personally. Was that being an unconditional friend? Or being a friend?

"No," she replied quickly, "You know I didn't mean it that way. I was joking."

You hummed a nod, downplaying the words. Playing it all down. Because it didn't really matter, it was so silly to get angry about it. And it was very strange for you to get angry about it. You didn't even used to have relationships close enough to allow yourself to get angry about something they said about you. That was the big example of why you didn't do it.

"The target is moving. He's heading for the nest," Tommy spoke again, his serene tone bringing you back to the topic that was truly important. "Do you see him, Vanessa?"

"Got it."

"Good. Just move into the room towards… Wow, who's that? Who the hell's in there?"

"Damn," Vanessa mumbled.

"Wait a minute."

"We can't wait that long."

"I know," Tommy exclaimed, and from his exasperated tone you could imagine how he was running his hands through his hair repeatedly.

"What the hell do we do, Thomas?"

"I told you to wait!"

"We can't wait, dammit!"

"Wait."

"Thomas, I'm going to-"

"Hold on."

You peered through your binoculars. The large panes of glass surrounding the flat where the target was located didn't let you see much inside. The room the man was in was not as well lit, but you had gone in well prepared.

Finally you could see what the others were seeing. The man had entered the room he was supposed to enter, but there was another man in there with him. And, as far as you could see, they had made themselves comfortable. It didn't look like the other man was going to leave any time soon.

"Let's do it," you spoke, breaking the silence, giving voice to the only option they had that neither of the other two wanted to say.

"Are you insane?" Tommy exclaimed through his teeth.

"We don't have a choice. We declare it a red zone and end the mission."

"We don't even know who that man is," Vanessa interjected, her voice unsteady as she was unable to acknowledge that you were right, hesitating because you were running out of time.

"That's what the red zone is all about."

There was a moment of silence. You knew they were both considering it, the idea had been in their heads since the man entered the room, but their moral compass was much stronger than yours.

"He could be an innocent person," Tommy tried to justify not making that decision.

"How innocent can he be sitting there with the target?"

"And how do we know he's guilty?" Tommy exclaimed back.

"We're wasting more time discussing this," Vanessa spoke again, and you could breathe in her deep inhale before she said, "I think we should do it, Tommy."

The man cursed through his teeth.

You looked through the binoculars again, and both men were still inside the room.

You heard a beep on the communicator and then a steady static. Someone had changed the channel.

"I'm relieving myself as mission leader. You're in charge," it was Tommy.

"What?"

"I can't do this."

"Thomas…"

"I can't make this decision. Just… just do it."

You heard the beeping again and then it was Vanessa saying, "Thomas, what the hell are we going to do?"

"Vanessa, aim for the target," you ordered as you began to open the case next to you, just in case a situation like that arose.

"What?"

"This mission has been declared a red zone. We're going to proceed according to protocol."

The woman didn't speak again.

Nor did she say anything when you had climbed down from the rooftops and found yourselves in an alleyway in the middle of the buildings. You were waiting for Thomas, your guns already stowed in the van.

"He relieved himself," Vanessa spoke after a while, and though it sounded like she wanted to ask a question, it sounded like a statement.

"Yes."

Vanessa shook her head in an affirmative gesture. She didn't say anything else. She leaned against the concrete wall with a blank stare.

Your mobile phone rang inside the van.

"Is that Thomas?" your companion asked.

You moved closer to look at the device's screen.

James.

"No."

You took the mobile phone and moved away from the woman's figure, further down the alley. Your heart was racing, it was out of control. You had been waiting for that call for days. You had spent sleepless nights waiting for one measly message. You had taken hundreds of missions just so you wouldn't have to endure sleeping in a bed alone. You felt like your body had been frozen until that moment, until that call, and finally….

"James? Are you here yet?"

A woman called your name on the other end of the line.

"Bucky arrived a couple of hours ago."

Your feet stopped walking.

"And the mission went well?"

Silence.

A beeping and constant muttering was all that answered you on the line.

"Is James okay?"

"He's stable. He suffered some injuries. We lost communication with him in the last few days and we thought that…"

You couldn't quite remember when you had arrived at the old Avengers Complex. Your body moved automatically and your vision was so blurred that you had no idea how you could get through the crowd without bumping into someone. It was all very strange. You spent months convincing yourself that it would never happen again. Ever since James accepted those damn missions, you spent weeks trying to convince yourself that nothing would ever go wrong. That his kisses would always be there. His reunion kisses were the best, they were a wellspring of calm that washed away all the anxiety that consumed you alive during the days when you couldn't hear from him.

You had already made up your mind that it would never happen again. He promised you that it wouldn't happen, that you wouldn't have to relive that heartbreaking feeling one more time.

And he broke it.

You wanted to be relieved to see him. You wanted to be happy to know he was alive. Bruised, but alive. You wanted to hold him, to stay with him and never let him go again. But you just stood there in front of his stretcher. And he didn't try to make you come closer either. He saw it in your eyes, you knew it. He knew it.

Seeing him on that gurney made you angry. It aroused your anger that this man had broken the promise he sealed with so many kisses. You felt so much disappointment that your chest had become a bottomless void of a feeling of impersonality. You didn't want to be there. You didn't want to go through it. You preferred to think that you could overlook it. You should overlook it. Why didn't you overlook it? You could live in ignorance, pretend to be the perfect girlfriend. Everything could be easier for both of you, for you, if you just ignored all those feelings and took this situation as a normal person would.

But your knees gave way to your tears and crashed to the floor. From the corner of the room, you could see your body shake in uncontrollable weeping. You didn't know why it hurt so much, if he was alive. You didn't know the reason for the agonising pain, if he was there. And yet, your face contracted in incalculable pain. It was as if he had died on that stretcher. It was as if you had been called to come and acknowledge his corpse.

And you knew James knew, because he hadn't said anything since you arrived. He had done nothing but watch you.

There, from the corner of the room, you could see him crying with you.

He knew.

You knew it.

The mission was simple.

Infiltrate, seduce, accompany, lull, kill.

But simple doesn't always end easy.

Since James had returned to the flat, he had vowed never to go out on any mission again, under any circumstances. And, indeed, he was keeping that promise. He was spending as much time at home as before.

But you weren't.

Every time James tried to talk to you about that mission where he might have died, you went into a kind of shell where you shut yourself off from all communication and fled from that place to one where you felt more at ease. More in control.

You got so tired of running away that you decided to start investing that time in something that would actually pay off. You started accepting missions with Thomas more often than before.

You knew James was trying to understand you, he was trying as hard and as willing as he could. Sometimes you would arrive and there would be dinner for you in the fridge or in the microwave. Sometimes you'd see your clothes piled in a corner of the yard suddenly neatly folded and smelling decent. Sometimes you'd walk into the bedroom and find little presents on top of the nightstand, right next to your side of the bed.

You knew James was trying.

But you also knew he was getting tired.

Weeks passed since you first came in and he was waiting for you sitting on the couch. It was a very hectic night, with too many questions and not enough answers. Sometimes you arrived and the flat was lonely. Sometimes you arrived and there was no food. Sometimes you arrived and there was only screaming.

But it was easier that way. You'd already felt what it was like to almost lose him, you'd already experienced that overwhelming emotion that had been with you so much in the past, and you knew, beforehand, that if it happened with James, there was no way you'd get out of it alive, so it was easier this way.

So it was easier that way. He'd walk away on his own, you'd forget about him, and you wouldn't have to suffer if he ever died.

Die.

James would die one day.

But not a day when he was with you.

So yes, you did spend a lot of time away from home.

Maybe you really should have thought twice before deciding that this was the best option.

You knew you dreaded James' death, and the loneliness that followed his passing.

But you had no idea how panicked you would be at the thought of your own death, after meeting him.

Because you would forget him, and that would be fairly easy for you, but he wouldn't forget you. And he would suffer, much more than he was suffering since you didn't come home.

"What the hell happened?" you remembered hearing a voice.

You couldn't be too aware of your surroundings lately.

"It was a simple mission," you heard another male voice.

"It was supposed to go well. She was supposed to call us if things got complicated."

You remembered little of being in the hospital.

You remembered a lot of James sitting in an armchair next to your gurney.

You remembered a lot of his silence.

You also remembered when, some days, you were awakened by his cries and had to pretend to be asleep so as not to interfere with his suffering. Because, ever since that accident happened, ever since you could remember what happened after that, James had become wary of his feelings. He wasn't as expressive as he used to be. And you didn't have the slightest idea what to do.

You couldn't believe that before you could get to the point where you could tell how each other was doing just by listening to each other's breathing, and after that you couldn't even meet each other's eyes by accident.

You were two strangers again.

You were losing him. You knew it. Every day that you went without doing something, without talking to him, without showing a hint of remorse for what you'd done, was a day closer to being completely alone again.

And you didn't even show it, but it was painful. Seeing him shut down like that, seeing him lose the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you, realising that he lost the will to try… knowing that you took away his will… it was all too much.

Really, you never thought things would get this bad.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't think they had gotten this bad, until one day you came to the flat and saw a suitcase in the room full of his clothes.

"I'm tired."

Those were the first words he'd spoken to you in days.

"And I don't have to put up with this anymore. So I'm leaving."

You knew it was going to happen, but for him to say it like that…

"You're leaving?"

James turned to look at you. His icy expression paralysed you.

"Are you still surprised?" he blurted out gruffly, and continued packing his clothes.

You just stood there in the doorframe, watching him move as fast as if he had a coal-fired engine in his chest. As if he couldn't wait for the moment when he could finally get out of there.

"Really…" he spoke suddenly, "You've really gone weeks, weeks, without speaking to me no matter how many times I've tried to talk to you, and you decide to do it now just because you're watching me leave? That's what I needed to do to get you to react?"

You didn't answer, you just watched him, your mind blank. He was angry. Irate, rather. And you knew he was absolutely right, but you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't do anything about it because things were going your way. If James went away, if he went away hating you, he wouldn't suffer in the future when you died and you could forget him in peace. That was the best thing. The only good thing you could do for him: keep him away from you.

"Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"

Yes, you do.

"No."

"No?" he repeated incredulously. "I know I made a mistake. I made a mistake in accepting those missions. I told you, I did it countless times. And yet, all those countless times you chose to turn your back on me."

The man watched you, his eyes filled with pent-up emotions that he finally allowed to overflow.

"I tried to understand you. I really did. I gave you your space. I tried to do whatever you needed because I knew it was hard for you, but it was like… trying to water a cactus daily. Everything I did seemed to have the opposite effect."

You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, I was overcome with fear and panic. I got carried away. Please don't go.

"You didn't even give yourself a chance to listen to me. Not once. Do you have any idea how all that made me feel?"

Yes, you must have felt very lonely. Abandoned. Despised by me. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let it all go so far.

"Do you want me to call a taxi?"

Of all the things you longed to say, that was the only thing your mind allowed to come out of your mouth.

You saw him sketch the sternest look of disbelief you'd ever seen. But you also saw pain, extreme pain at the rejection of your words.

"Are you fucking kidding me? How can you be so cynical?" James exclaimed, his face contorted in anger and helplessness. You cringed a little at the shout but didn't move away from him as he came striding towards you in long strides. "Tell me, did you even care about me? At any point in this… relationship, was anything you gave me real?"

You half-opened your lips to answer, but could not formulate the sentences you knew would comfort his heart.

Yes, absolutely everything was real, all my love and suffering was real.

James walked away, and you didn't know if it was possible that his face could look even more downcast.

Your hands were shaking with helplessness. He was still there. You could still try to save him. Why didn't you? Why? Why? Why?

"How can you be so fucking expressionless? How can you not be in pain… for this? How?"

"You're going to be fine," the words escaped your mouth before your mind could process it.

The man turned to look at you.

"You really are…" he raised his hand and gripped it tightly, swallowing his words and turning back towards the wardrobe to start throwing his things into the suitcase.

Suddenly, he let out a scream. And then a cry.

"I swear, if you'd just tell me no, I'd stay."

He looked at you. His tear-filled eyes met yours and you knew that would be an image that would haunt you to death.

"I would stay… I really would, but… I still can't believe you are so foolish. The first thing you did when you left that hospital was to go back to another mission. How could you care so little about your life? How could you care any less that I care about your life?"

I care about my life even more since you're in it. Don't go.

"It's just work," is what you replied.

"No, no, no…" James hummed with laughter, but his face lacked grace. "I'm definitely not going to stand here just watching you risk your life because you're incapable of expressing your feelings. I'm not worth being put through this."

"It's my life, James."

"But you made me part of your life! I'm here! We're supposed to share our lives together. Why is it only about you now?"

"It's supposed to be my choices…"

"But why can't I be a part of them?" James exclaimed loudly. Your mind clouded over, and even though all you wanted to do was apologise from there until the end of time, you had too much pent up anger because of that very inability to say what you truly thought.

You're right, I am unable to express my feelings. I am sorry. Don't go away.

"You're talking about my fucking life! Why do you want to be in control of all the shit I do now? Fuck you!"

"I'm not trying to control anything, goddamn it! I just need to know…"

"No! You don't need to know anything. You don't need to know anything about me. We're here and you're packing your bag. You have no right to know anything."

James let out a snort.

"We're here and you still can't talk to me. I can't believe how bloody insane you've become."

"Just go."

Don't go.

"This is bullshit."

James finished throwing all of his clothes into the suitcase. You watched his every move, every flex of his body, every grimace on his face, every flick of his hair, how his fingers clutched at the things he took, how his scowl didn't lessen one bit. You watched and watched. It was all you could do.

You leaned against the doorframe and watched him take his anger and pain out on his clothes and his suitcase. It gave you a strange kind of feeling to see him like that, something that felt mildly familiar but you couldn't put a name to it. You wanted to turn things back. If you could turn back time you would, and every single thing that went wrong you would fix.

But would you really? Did the problem really go back to when things with James started to go wrong? The problem was you. You were the problem. You couldn't talk, you could only think, you could only repress, you could only suffer. Only you, you and you. Only you because you were alone, because you had always been alone and there was no reason to believe that could change. James lied to you, that was the reason he was leaving and you had no reason to stop him. He had to go. If he didn't want to go through that, he shouldn't have lied in the first place. If he didn't want to go through that, he shouldn't have asked you out in the first place. He shouldn't have met you. He shouldn't have spent time with you. You shouldn't have stopped him.

Stop him.

You should stop him.

James closed the suitcase.

"I did too much for this relationship. I gave up too much for both of us. I gave up everything I was for this relationship. I gave up too much for you and you know it!"

You narrowed your eyes and began to approach him in rapid strides. He towered over you by several inches, and there was a time when you loved that, but now you hated that he could see you that way. He had always seen you that way. So small…

"You say that as if I forced you. I never asked you to give up your life for me!"

"Exactly, that's the damn problem! You've never asked me to do anything, I've just done all this stuff on my own trying to cope with a relationship that's become… one-sided!"

You walked away.

"Just… leave now."

Please leave before I tie you to this flat and never let you leave again.

He wanted to say something else. You knew he wanted to say something else. It was obvious he hadn't said half the things he wanted to say. But he didn't.

He took his suitcase and left.

He really left.

He walked past you, not caring that the brush of his shoulder against yours almost made you fall. He passed you and walked straight to the exit, slamming the door hard on his way out.

He was gone. He was gone. He was finally gone. He was really gone.

Now you were alone. You were alone again. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? You'd done a lot of things in the last few months to make him go away, and he was finally gone… but then why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you want to run after him? Why did you want to go and kiss him? Why did you want to stop him and beg him to forgive you?

Who did he think he was to deserve that after what he had done?

But… what had he done?

No.

What had you done?

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes

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joe-moi · 7 months

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Saw an artist do a time lapse Photoshop aging JK and he was fuckin hot. He looked like... Salt and pepper Eric Dane. Heavy McSteamy vibe.

that’s exactly what I was thinking. kind of like those guys from Grey’s Anatomy. I could also see him taking a show like that in the future where he’s like older and incredibly good looking, and women just fawn over him again.

#anonymous asks #🛼answers #jk

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thecraftymagician · 2 years

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A request for whenever you want: modern M6 and their favorite TV shows?

(Tumblr needs to stop deleting my stuff ugh!)

Okay let's try this again! I tried to use different genres and there are a few listed I haven't seen but have heard of that just make sense. I'm not sure especially after everything if anyone will be into things that are too intense or dark but their are a few

Modern M6's Favorite TV Shows

Asra💜

I can totally see Asra being into trashy reality romance shows. Mostly out of morbid curiosity or flat out hate watch, his favorite being 90 Day Fiancé. The one they actually do enjoy is Catfish and might get too invested/emotional with some couples.

Their all time favorite is probably heart felt like The Good Place or maybe This Is Us. They primarily enjoy rom-coms like Gilmore Girls, Jane the Virgin, New Girl, etc.

Likes to watch Rick and Morty or the Midnight Gospel to just chill and vibe with.

Nadia💖

She would love most thing's Shondaland; Scandal, even Bridgerton (she doesn't care if it's a guilty pleasure) yet isn't as into Gossip Girl. She also likes Castle and detective dramedies like it. Even House of Cards is just so intriguing to her.

She likes Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy much to Julian's dismay. I can see her liking royalty biopics too like the Crown. It might not be completely accurate but it's entertaining.

At the same time she's kinda picky. She'll try most things but sometimes she just can't get into a show for whatever reason.

Julian🖤

His favorites are things he doesn't have to think about after a long day but still enjoys a good anthology. He likes the Great British Bake Off for this reason and because they're all so nice to each other!

While he loves certain concepts and characters he just can't sit through most medical dramas (Scrubs however, he loves because it's a goofy fun time). He's open to most things and actually can get into alot of different shows. I'm almost convinced he'd love Sherlock or Doctor Who, definitely loves The Mandalorian and Andor.

I can see him liking period shows like the Marvelous Ms. Maisel or Downton Abbey (Nadia recommended it). I also get the feeling he'd like Better Call, Saul!

Muriel💚

He'll watch whatever is on but isn't super partial to anything. When he watches something on his own or gets to pick there's a pattern in themes or aesthetics though.

Hilda, Anne with an E, and to an extent Outlander (sometimes might skip through scenes) are his favorites. He prefers light hearted, cozy shows but isn't opposed to some good plot heavy shows. Will cry when his favorites end or get cancelled.

At the same time just PBS cooking, travel, and gardening shows specifically are his favorite to put on in the background.

Portia🧡

She gets really into the darker, spooky scary stuff like Black Mirror and American Horror Story alongside the Walking Dead. She has her own theories for everything! (Nadia also got her into Good Girls.)

I can see her getting really into Cartoon Network shows like Infinity Train, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Adventure Time, Over the Garden Wall, ect. She'd also love Summer Camp Island.

Besides that she's just really into Fantasy and Adventure. She's pretty open to trying out any show especially if it has those elements.

Lucio❤️

He has seen all of Jersey Shore and every single spinoff. No one is shocked, those are his comfort shows. He likes other reality TV like Big Brother too. I could see him liking Shameless for the same absurd antics and comedy.

As much as he loves adult comedies like South Park, and Big Mouth he does like other animated shows. Ren and Stimpy, Rocko's Modern Life, Cat-Dog, and obviously Fairly Odd-Parents to name a few. Basically, any cartoon from the 90s.

Still sometimes he gets invested in other shows but usually it's because someone else got him into it like How I Met Your Mother. In which case it'll be a struggle to get him to not binge it on his own.

Shows they all enjoy or even get together to watch:

Steven Universe, What We Do In The Shadows, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Friends, The Office, Parks and Rec, The Witcher, Game of Thrones, Stranger Things (maybe), Bojack Horseman (They refuse to let anyone/each other watch it alone though), Gravity Falls, Avatar the Last Airbender, Legend of Kora, The Good Place, Archer, Bob's Burgers, Bluey (I said what said), The Owl House, Letterkenny, Cheers, etc.

They are acutely aware of which characters they match up with each show and find it hilarious. Well everyone but Lucio for obvious reasons. (If anyone wants those matches, just let me know! lol)

#the arcana #thearcanagame #julian the arcana #julian devorak #asra the magician #asra the arcana #countess nadia #nadia the arcana #count lucio #the arcana lucio #portia the arcana #portia devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the arcana

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troop-scoop · 4 years

Text

Mistakes & Regrets I

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (Slow Burn)

A/n: This is my first stranger things fic, I’ve done other fandoms, and i’ve been itching to get this idea out, let me know if you liked the first part, and if you want to be tagged! (Pls be nice, i’m shy lol) (Also, I had this on a side blog, that I decided to bring to my main blog)

•••

The 1980’s were weird, that was your final opinion. Mainly because it was so much like home, they had phones, they dressed almost like you were used to, they had music you’d grown up on, like The Clash and Elton John, but a lot of the songs that were decades older than you, were new to them.

And while you knew every lyric to ‘The Safety Dance’ and ‘Come on Eileen’ everyone around you was still trying to learn them, and would jumble them from time to time. But at the young age of two, you were dancing along to The Clash while your dad laughed and danced with you.

Knowing that some songs you loved wouldn’t come out for up to twenty years later made you upset, not being able to listen to Nirvana. Suddenly you wanted to be in the car, listening to your dad try to sing along to Ed Sheeran or Taylor Swift. It was always amusing seeing his reaction to the newest songs on the radio while he drove you to school.

There was another thing about this time period that you found weird. They actually had lockers. All of the lockers from your school had been taken out in the late 90’s when a kid hid a gun and drugs in his, so no one had lockers except for in the locker room. So having to remember two different combos was a pain in your ass.

“L/n!”

A heavy sigh escaped your nose as your lips went thin in fake annoyance even though he hadn’t fully approached you.

“What do you want, Harrington?” You questioned, turning from the open grey locker to see him just a few feet away.

He gave you a look of fake offense as he leaned against the locker next to yours a hand over his on his chest, sadly were the latch of your own was, so you couldn’t use the door as a shield,

“Hey, now, who said I wanted anything? I just wanna talk to my friend.”

You were kind of friends. He was nice, at least to you. Though you’d seen him be a douchebag to other students. The cliche you’d seen in a movie of highschool. The popular guy who only cared about popularity and the people he was around. And you didn’t know why he thought you were a good person to be around, because when you were six you accidently set your curtains on fire while the babysitter fell asleep. And you were pretty sure you gave off ‘crazy bitch’ vibes.

You turned back to the locker and shook your head, grabbing your English textbook and looking back to him, a hand holding onto the door while you leaned into it. “Okay, why do you want to talk to me?” You questioned with a fake smile.

“Alright, grumpy. Tommy H, Carol, and I wanna hang out at yours tonight. My parents don’t leave for three more days, and Carol’s mom hates Tommy, and you know how Tommy’s dad is.” He explained, looking down at you.

You hummed in amusement. “Not happening.” You responded, grabbing the hood of his hoodie and placing it in his locker, closing the door in on it. “Have fun.”

“Y/n!” He exclaimed in a sudden panic at being stuck in your locker, not being able to pull himself loose. “This isn’t funny, I will tell Mrs. Click!” He threatened as you stepped back, a genuine grin on your face as you looked up at him.

“A tattle tale? Didn’t think you’d stoop that low, and also, Mrs. Click? You think I’m scared of my History teacher? She’s afraid of saying ‘Wench’ out loud while we reading historical texts. She’s not intimating.”

Steve nodded a bit in thought. “Yeah… Okay, maybe I didn’t think that through, I’ll go to principal-”

“If I get suspended, I get suspended.” You shrugged. “Find a way to get me something to listen to music on, and something that has music on it, and then I’ll let you go.”

“Are you… Are you bribing me? Y/n L/n is bribing me? The new girl is bribing me.” He said in awe, still grasping onto his hoodie, looking at you with his mouth agape and his eyebrows raised.

When you only tilted your head he groaned, pulling on the cotton material. “Fine, Walkman or Record Player?”

“Hmm… Walkman.” You replied.

“Queen or Blondie?” He questioned, a smile coming across your face as you reached up to the lock.

“Both.”

Steve rolled his eyes as you unlocked your locker, setting him free. “That wasn’t fair, you look innocent.” He grumbled.

You mimicked his eye roll, closing the locker and walking away through the hall. ‘Fair’ being repeated in your head. Nothing was fair anymore to you. You’d been normal, just an annoying kid who was obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy, and history. That was what you had to your name. Your friends had once watched the bad uneducational tv show with you just to try and understand your obsession, you dad even had given it a chance, only saying that most of the characters were annoying.

But you only had history now. And some of the things you were supposed to learn in AP European history haven’t even happened yet. And it was freaking you out.

What was freaking you out more? Knowing you had a ‘classmate’ in your History class, who sat next to you, and was your relative. Your dad’s brother.

Sitting next to him was strange. Because he was your uncle. He’d been the one who bought you your first bike, and watched you fall off and break your wrist after your dad had let go of the bike.

To say that being his partner on a history project was weird, was an understatement. Because the entire time you felt like hitting your head against the desk, because he didn’t really change.

“What’s so important about a quote?”

“Are you serious?”

“As serious as the Titanic.” You responded, brows furrowed.

He stayed quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.” He admitted, receiving a chuckle from you as you watched him flip through the book. “I don’t even understand this project.”

“Come on, we have to choose a quote from a historical piece of fiction, We were assigned Romeo and Juliet.” You said grabbing your book and flipping to a certain page. “Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” You teased, knowing that the page you were on didn’t have that in there.

The boy was technically older than you, but right now, you were the same age, and he was shaking his head with a smile. “It’s like she wanted him to be stalking her.” He responded.

“What?”

“She’s asking where he is.” He shrugged. “It’s weird, cause he still doesn’t come out when she asks that.”

“That’s not what she means. It’s early modern English. Phrases were different. She’s asking why he has to be Romeo. In modern words it’d be ‘Romeo, oh Romeo, why does it have to be Romeo.’ She’s upset because the guy she likes is in the enemy’s family.”

The boy looked at you, eyes scanning your face for a moment, looking for any hint of you joking, but he didn’t he finally spoke. “You could teach this class better than her.” He said in a hushed voice to make it so Mrs. Click didn’t hear.

“No-”

“L/n!” The two of you snapped your attention to the older woman who was scowling. “Back to work!”

You rolled your eyes and looked back to him as the bell rang. “That’s our cue.”

The 80’s were weird, and you didn’t like them. What with being so similar to home. With your uncle in the same history class as you, and being close to your dad, but older than him and not seeing him as your dad. And knowing people around you who were almost Baby Boomers, and in your time, would reprimand you for the jokes you made and your views of the world.

Being 16 in your time had been easier, able to cheat off websites for homework, and texting, which seemed to have been taken for granted by you.

Here, you couldn’t say you didn’t have a mom, but rather two dads. Because it was the 80’s and you knew the comments you’d get. You also couldn’t say your full name. That the dad you were genetically related to was the one who gave you the second last name that your uncle had and everyone would question it, and it pained you not being able to go by it, because he’d taught you more things than anyone else ever had. He’d taught you how to ride a book, and said that he’d be disappointed if you ever got ditching class, and that if you were going to do it, not to get caught for his sanity.

You would regret ever coming to this town with him, and you would regret the choice to ever run out of Enzo’s after your other dad yelled at you for being drenched from the rain after you ran in, finding that it was a formal restaurant and not a casual one. You’d regret going into the woods and getting lost, because all you wanted, was to be held by your dad and have him tell you it was going to be okay, You wanted to hear him walking down the hall late at night when he couldn’t sleep and you were hiding under your blankets with your phone, tying not to get caught for being up late.

But you had the fear that you’d never see your dad, as your dad. That you’d have to continue growing up in a time that has been written in history books. That you’d have to watch as technology progressed, and that you’d be conscious and aware for the year you were born.

You were still a kid, even if you didn’t look like it. Just six year ago, you’d been in elementary school, and you still got nightmares and went to your dads’ room because you were still scared of sleeping alone. You hadn’t been since, until now. You could barely sleep at night in the unfamiliar room of the motel you were living in, without your parent’s room down the hall.

But you were trying. And you wanted to redo everything, if you could build a time machine, you would. But that hadn’t even been available in your time, let alone 83’.

#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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1022.

1. 3 things you wish for >> The ability to feel attachment and joy and to feel like a part of the world, psychedelic-assisted therapy with a trauma-informed therapist (this would probably do well in fulfilling the first wish -- two birds), and a Ganondorf dakimakura.

2. 3 movies you have rewatched many times >> Event Horizon, Labyrinth, Interstellar.

3. 3 songs that mean something to you >> Nothing As It Seems by Pearl Jam, November Rain by Guns n’ Roses, I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday by David Bowie.

4. 3 topics you’d love to learn more about >> This is hard to think of off the top of my head. Honestly, my curiosity is boundless, so.

5. 3 colors to paint your room >> I don’t know, I’ve never painted a room and I don’t even know how I’d choose a colour.

6. 3 characters that inspire you >> I don’t really know the answer to this.

7. 3 fruits that you love the most >> Strawberries, plums, nectarines.

8. 3 tv shows that you never get bored of >> The X-Files, Key & Peele, idk.

9. 3 things you like doing on a rainy day >> There’s nothing I prefer doing that’s specific to rainy days, though.

10. 3 things you like eating with coffee >> ---

11. 3 books that you would recommend everyone to read >> ---

12. 3 apps you use the most >> Spotify, RIF Is Fun (third-party Reddit app), Scribd.

13. 3 classes you used to hate in middle school >> I don’t remember what classes I hated in middle school.

14. 3 professions that you would like to try >> ---

15. 3 quotes that have a special place in your life >> I really couldn’t begin to think of any right now.

16. 3 drinks you consume the most >> Water, fizzy water, green tea.

17. 3 tv couples you adore the most >> Gomez and Morticia Addams, period. That’s my standard.

18. 3 dream jobs you’ve had in your childhood >> ---

19. 3 animals you’d love to take care of in your house >> None, thanks.

20. 3 adjectives that you’d use to describe yourself >> Melancholy, multifaceted, idk.

21. 3 things you are the most passionate about >> My OCs, Inworld, idk what else.

22. 3 movies/books/tv shows that made you cry >> Books: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sainz, At Swim, Two Boys by Jamie O’Neill, Heavy by Kiese Laymon.

Movies: Sunshine, District 9, Requiem For a Dream.

TV shows: Grey’s Anatomy, Person of Interest, The Good Place.

23. 3 songs you listen to while cleaning >> I just put my playlist on shuffle.

24. 3 places that makes you feel peaceful >> Inworld, obviously. But also sitting by the Mississippi in NOLA, and pretty much any quiet wooded area.

25. 3 people you’d never get tired of >> I really can’t imagine never getting tired of a person. I liked Sparrow enough to choose to live with and marry her, but I still don’t want to see her literally all day every day, like... come on. I need space.

26. 3 countries you’d love to visit >> Iceland, Ireland, Turkey.

27. 3 things you wish you did more often >> Oh, I don’t know.

28. 3 things you love cooking/baking >> ---

29. 3 characteristics of the person you aspire to be >> What person is that? Ooh, I could answer for Can Calah, who is pretty much my ideal person, lol. Compassionate, secure, uh... yeah, just those two, basically.

30. 3 moments you could never forget >> I don’t know, man. They’re probably all going to be really depressing or triggering moments, so maybe it’s best I don’t try to think of them right now.

31. 3 types of flowers you love the most >> Sunflowers, dandelions, chrysanthemums.

32. 3 months you enjoy the most >> May, June, and September, if we’re talking about weather. October, November, December if we’re talking about vibes.

33. 3 scented candles that you love the most >> I like woodsy, musky candles and that’s about it.

34. 3 people in history that inspire you the most >> ---

35. 3 vegetables that you like the taste of >> Broccoli, asparagus, carrots.

36. 3 ways of traveling that you enjoy the most >> Flying, train, walking.

37. 3 languages you would love to learn >> Irish would be cool, but I don’t have the energy, lmao. Also, Hebrew.

#surveys #survey #3 things survey #not for reblogging *glare*

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doctorqueensanatomy · 4 years

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Thank you for the tag @cxpaldi I had a fun time doing this!!!

Answer the 10 questions from the person tagged and then tag 10 people and ask them 10 different questions

Say something nice about yourself: I've got good hair 😎😎😎

If tonight you go online and open Archive of Our Own, what fandom do you want to read fanfiction for? BoRhap

Do you have any pictures/posters/postcards on your wall and if so, what are they? Oh dear I have a lot 😆😆 I've got a picture of Charlie Chaplin, 3rd Doctor and Matt Smith cut outs, frame of doctors 1-12, colour in of Kurt Cobain, a pic of me and mah bestie, another pic of me and another friend, some certificates, Jef (an avacado @lilbluebitch (also the best friend) drew), picture of my football clubs home ground, another football ting, ANATO NOTW and Wembley '86 album covers framed, mini framed freddie, picture of rogerina, poster of Hot Space, collage ting of Queen and 3 letters my Internet friends sent me when I was having a really bad time :-)

Describe your fave mug/cup to drink out of: a Grey's Anatomy one i have or a Brentford mug (football club)

Do you like the town/city where you're from? Yes!! I'm a West Londoner loud and proud!

When you shuffle a playlist, is there ever a song that ever comes on that you judt cannot stand? Not really. I don't have any songs saved that I don't like

Is there a book or movie from your childhood where, from just thinking about it, makes you feel warm and fuzzy? Either Jurrassic Park or War Of The Buttons (this Irish film about two rival towns its brilliant i swear!)

What restaurant would you first want to go to when lockdown is over? A pizza express in Woking... jkjk, erm, im on a heavy diet so I would be able to eat much anyways. Maybe this Indian food restaurant in Southall called Brilliant, which truly is brilliant

How did you do revision notes? I didn't. My mentality throughout exams was that anything I do is never good enough so I just didn't try. Wing every test and hope for the best

What do you want to get out of a holiday? Fun!! And no sunburn

Cool, now for my questions!!

If you came across a fortune teller that could let you know of 1 detail of anything in the future, how detailed of a question would you give, or would you ask anything at all?

If there was one instrument you could master, what would it be? Don't say an instrument you already play if you do

Is there a certain set of lyrics in a particular song that makes you transcend into another dimension and if so, pray tell? (And if not, then is there a song that makes you trip)

If a song played everytime you walk into a room, what song would you choose?

Whats the most useless thing you can do/that you know?

Is there a book you ever had to study you actually enjoyed? (I love Macbeth, Blood Brothers and An Inspector Calls)

Name a time you felt confident and then drink some water. Now everytime you think of that confidence, drink some water. Let's fill this house with positivity and hydration!

If you could add arms and legs to a fruit or vegetable and give them a name, what would they be called?

Is there a celebrity that hasn't necessarily done anything wrong or is bad, but yiu just do not vibe with them? I'll start with mine... Taylor Swift 😔

Is there a stereotype of your country, state, city, town, accent that you reject but only because it is absolutely true?

I love doing this and I hope others do too!! I tag: @lilbluebitch @youthbitch @batfamfucker (igotchu) @laurajw14 @kiainspace @warriorteam1924 @i-am-the-egg-enby @lovelyhoe23 @rogersthighss @punkgeekchic

#tagged #questions #sheamus speaks

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the-most-beautiful-broom · 5 years

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author tags

tagged by @thelittlefanpire of whom I am SO proud and so I had to come back for this!

Fandoms You Write for: the 100, and then like a token fic a piece for stranger things and starwars...if you go deep into ffnet there might be a harry potter fic or two, but I try not to think about them

Where you post: ao3

Most popular one shot: drops of gold like sparks scheming madi, professor bellamy and frazzled clarke, in the most portland of aus

Most popular Multi-Chapter: room 337 lol also the only multi-chap i’ve finished. it’s peak mount weather!bellarke, but make it grey’s anatomy. surprisingly enough, not the angstiest thing I’ve ever written, but I did cry writing it.

Favorite story you wrote: I think The Nurse at Fort Vaux is my favorite! all the edge of tomorrow vibes, and then wwi and it’s messy and hard and it’s one of the grittiest things I wrote; I felt I really pushed myself writing it and when I read it, it’s exactly what I’d had in mind

Story you were nervous to post: Survivor’s Eyes, because it dealt with some heavy stuff (murphy in the lighthouse at s3 opening)...I’m really proud of it, but I tagged it so heavily and was terrified that someone would see it/read it expecting fluff, and then be hit with triggers and I didn’t want to hurt anyone

How do you choose your titles: 98% a line from the fic; so many of my comments are the ohhhh moment when a reader gets why my random/meaningless title comes from. that last 2% is when it’s cool (Ace) or situational (the waitress next door, room 337)

Do you outline: lol obviously not

Complete number of stories: 52, which is crazy. Some of those are prompt fills, but most of my one shots land around 3k...

In progress: Oof, four. there’s the zaven zombie fic, the GIVE STEVE HARRINGTON FRIENDS fic, the fbi!bellarke soulmates au that i consider dropping every other week, and my hitchcock murder mystery bellarke fic

Do you accept prompts: absolutely! will write for other people and validation before my own WIPs any day. probs going to do 12 days of ficmas again, so if you want to rec for that (any ship, any festive prompt!) drop me an inbox

Upcoming Story you are most excited about: hmmm chopped is coming up and i need to get to work on my bingo card! nothing new, other than the WIPs though

I never would’ve thought I’d be here, with hundreds of people reading a word I wrote, much less stories. I know it can be hard in fandom to feel like you only have a set number of people that read your work, or that care, but I promise fic writing is a place where relativity is just stupid. Your work is good bc it’s good, independent of anyone else’s fic, your stats, or theirs. To all the people I’m tagging, thanks for reading mine, and letting me read yours ❤️

Tagging: @dylanobrienisbatman @chants-de-lune @asroarke @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @octannibal-blake @raven-reyes-of-sunshine @youleftme-clarke @baellamy @tracylorde @kay-emm-gee @dracoterrae9099 @bettsfic @selflessbellamy and I know I’m forgetting people I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA but if you’re looking at this list and being bummed that I didn’t tag you, I promise I meant to❤️

#bellarke #lindsay writes

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

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looking for a writing partner

a bit about me -20something who RPs to unwind. I try to reply as many times a day as I can, but of course, real life comes up. If anything major crops up, I would inform my partner ASAP. I live in the US, in the eastern timezone. I am searching for a long term writing partner. -As I am over 18, I would like my partners to be too. This is a non-negotiable, since I enjoy have mature content (sex, drugs, rock and roll, along with language and violence). -In relation to the above, I am fine with smut, but it can't dominate the story. I prefer plot above all else. A good story is the fun part of RP for me and too much smut drags the story down. I do have my limits and things I'm fine with but that can be discussed when we connect. -As for my writing style: paragraph/novel style, 3rd person. I try to put in at least two decent sized paragraphs a post. One liners are not my thing, so no worries about that from me! -I prefer to play female main characters. All of them are over 18 and range in personality, color, beliefs, etc... Side/secondary characters are whatever they need to be and I can play as many as required. A good cast is important! But I don't double, at least in the traditional sense. -well rounded characters are life. I love figuring them out, crafting backstories and personalities for them, seeing how they react to situations. -Romance is always fun. I prefer to play out m/f relationships, with me as the female. -As for where I prefer to RP: email ([email protected]), skype, googledocs, Discord. I have Hangouts, but that is for planning and ooc chatter. plot related matters -original characters and settings are my jam. While I do take inspiration from fandoms (Harvest Moon, Shameless, Grey's Anatomy, AHS Coven and Freak Show, Clerks and all films in that universe, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Community ), I only use original characters and settings. So, all of the above are things I am only open to using as inspiration, either a little or a lot. The genres I prefer are mainly slice of life, 'historical' (for lack of a better term) and urban fantasy. We can also just do a thing where we make characters and have sort of a TV show structure: smaller plots with an overarching plot/theme/whatnot (ie the adventures of two friends as they fall in love, with supporting cast members being family and friends). That is mainly because there are ideas I would be open that don't seem like they would work long term and it would just be fun to throw our characters into a variety of adventures. now, onto less vague plot ideas! Best Friends: basically the idea above. That seems like it would be fun, jumping from story to story as two best friends fall for each other. Hooker/Client: which explains itself, now that I think about it. A hooker and her client get too close when they should not be. The client can be anything but a married man, since infidelity is a no-go. Maybe he's a doctor, lawyer or business executive. Or a literal superhero or supervillain, which could be a fun twist. Online: Our characters are YouTube famous, making videos and those Benjamins. So they have to deal with that unique brand of fame and a budding relationship. Knocked Up: again, it explains itself. Two people have an unplanned pregnancy. It could be two friends, two strangers, the world is open! I would love to combine this with the Shameless inspired plot aka slice of life with a heavy dash of dysfunction, chaos and drama in case you have not seen the show. Or maybe she's pregnant by a guy who is no longer around but is vibing with someone else (so no cheating here), which could add more drama. Could be combined with the best friends plot, or even the freak show idea! Related to the above: not quite accidental pregnancy. A single man decides to hire a surrogate so he can have an heir. Feelings crop up, shenanagins ensue. Maybe there are Jane the Virgin-esque shenangins, to varying degrees depending on what you want. And of course, the RP continues after the kid is born. A slow burn is preferred with this plot. Homecoming: Something like the above would be the backstory. A couple has a thing and have to part ways, for whatever reasons. He could have gone into the military, maybe it was work or school, something happened to break them apart. And some time later, they reunite and surprise, she has a kid. Now they must navigate parenthood, old and new feelings and general drama RJ/BB: Romeo and Juliet meets Breaking Bad. Two people from rival drug dealing cliques meet and there is a spark. But their crews are dicks, to be concise. Or maybe only one of them is dealing. Arranged Marriage: Can take place in modern day or a historical setting. For the modern day, it could be a business deal on the parent's end that includes a wedding of some sort. As for a historical setting, it could be a few things. Maybe it is how they end a war. Or it is a business deal of some sort. For those two or something similar, I like the idea of them sniping, having hate sex, generally being snippy and then, thing progress and they learn to work together. Or...Maybe it's like what Dany and Drogo from Game of Thrones had, but with a happier ending (I would love this one). Or it is just an outright kidnapping sort of deal. Which could tie into the Beauty and the Beast dynamic. Maybe one of them is like a prize to the other (ie a warrior/gladiator being gifted a prize for winning a tournament or battle in the form of a bride or a warrior is taken hostage and is given as a prize to the ruler's daughter?) But I am open to ideas of course! Related to the above, kinda. A cruel, tyrant of a king takes a bride for reasons that are not all that genuine. Someone who is either part of the rebel forces or maybe a lone wolf kidnaps her and they wind up on the run, first as captor and captive and then as something more. Untitled: Set in the classic pseudo medieval time period, a person of noble or royal blood has either fled or been cast out of their home (the latter could tie into a beauty and the beast ish plot). They cross paths with a person of common blood and things develop. Untitled 2: A princess/noble woman and a knight (or other kind of castle worker) become close, but their stations in life and maybe a few other things make it complicated. Untitled 3: Something with pirates could be fun! Untitled 4: This idea is a cracky one but hey, lets throw it out there. It's a fusion of Grey's Anatomy and Buffy. Basically my character is a Slayer who decided to go into medicine instead of slaying since due to the events of the finale, she is not the one girl in all the world. But this is still the Buffy-verse and with the soapy dramatics of GA thrown in, life is not simple. So there will be romance, action, adventure and so much more. Note: I have only seen the shows and have not read the comics. And of course, original stories inspired by the fandoms listed above. Something Shameless, AHS Freak Show, Dany/Drogo or IASIP inspired would be amazing right now. It could be combined with a plot of course. As I have said, I deal in originals only. misc: There are some relationship dynamics I would like to explore: love to hate, age gaps (older man, younger woman, up to 15 years), best friends falling for each other, werewolves or werewolf/human, vampire/human, artist and their muse, opposites attract, boss/employee, co-workers or partners. The three shows I would use to sum up my sense of humor are: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The Most Popular Girls in School and Community.

-I use face claims, but only if my partner does as well. So it is not mandatory at all.

-Also, OOC chatter is fine with me. I like to geek out over characters as well, chatter about them, talk headcanons, maybe do little AU sidestories and whatnot. I love pinterest, polyvore and even making playlists on spotify.

I am open to ideas and plots can always be combined. Don't just send a message saying 'hey wanna rp?'. Tell me about yourself and what you want to write. I am fine with drama and angst in the story, but not all the time. RP is supposed to be fun!

#oc rp #long term #email #submission

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desperatelyseekingroleplay · 4 years

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-I use face claims, but only if my partner does as well. So it is not mandatory at all.

#Desperately Seeking Roleplay #Writing Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Wanted #Roleplay Partner Ad #Long Term Roleplay Wanted #submission

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nellie-elizabeth · 3 years

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Grey's Anatomy: Sign O' the Times (17x12)

Some heavy stuff, y'all. It's interesting how this show is addressing current events but on a delay because that's how TV works... really brings some things to the forefront of my mind that unfortunately the news isn't much focused on anymore.

Cons:

I found some of the story beats surrounding Bailey's patient to be a little clumsy. He's cartoonish and cruel to Bailey. I could buy someone not believing in COVID (believe me, I've met some of those people), but for him to literally say to his doctor's face: you're lying to me and you're making money off of scaring people? It felt a little too blunt, like this man was meant to represent every little aspect of that kind of human being. And then for him to die in the parking lot? Not exactly subtle.

I'm always talking about how I don't like Catherine Fox, and this episode actually helped me in articulating why. It's like she always traps people into providing her mic drop moments. She doesn't communicate, she dismisses people's concerns and ideas, goading them into a situation where they speak to her rudely. Then she turns around and hits them with the cold hard facts of how she was right all along. And like... Catherine is right, and has a good point, when she talks about fighting the way she knows how to fight. But why does she always have to have the last word? Why does she always have to say things in this righteous way, that doesn't allow room for anyone else's opinion?

Pros:

Let's start with Richard and Jackson, though. I like that Richard has this long history of going to protests, and I like that Jackson is starting to question the fact that he hasn't gotten involved. I can't imagine what it is to be a black man facing these challenges, but I can empathize with that dilemma of knowing your heart is in the right place, knowing there are different ways you might be able to make a difference... and which way do you choose? What feels right, at the end of the day? I liked seeing these differing perspectives and journeys.

And meanwhile you have a white man, Hayes, struggling with how to let his young black sons be involved. It's scary, and as a parent, I can imagine that telling them to stay home and stay safe makes a lot of sense. But also... this is their country and their fight, if they want it to be. I liked that Hayes was portrayed as sympathetic for being protective, but he also made the right choice in the end.

Schmitt had a somewhat comedic, but still intense subplot. He's in the hyperbaric chamber with Meredith, when another doctor, I think an intern? Named Chee? Comes in with another patient. There's an emergency, and Schmitt handles it amazingly, after initially freaking out a bit. He listens to the voice of Meredith Grey in his head, and it gets him through. I loved the moment when Jo teased him about it, and Levi says: "oh my god, what is Chee telling people?!" That was so cute. It actually gave me early Grey's vibes, like, surgery in elevators, OR mishaps, etc. I like Jo and Schmitt's friendship, and I like that Jo is taking the plunge and restarting her residency after all!

And then we've got Maggie and Winston. God, this plot thread just broke my heart in ten thousand different ways. I appreciate that no punches were pulled here. What Winston endured was horrific, and terrifying, and absolutely an example of racism at work. And Maggie was so scared. I was so scared. I really felt the tension of the situation, and I understood why she was so freaked out. That experience is so different from anything I can imagine myself going through. I'll never have to go through it, because as a white woman I am much more likely to receive sympathy from cops, not abuse. I don't even really have a lot to say about this, other than that it was really well done, and I had my heart in my throat the whole time, and I felt so terrible for both of them. I believe in their connection. They seem like they'll make a really good couple.

And I think that's all I'm going to write about this one - a shorter review than usual for a show with so many characters and story-lines, but honestly that's where I'm at. Not a lot to say. A very solid installment. Can't wait for more Meredith next week!

8/10

#review #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy review #greys anatomy #greys anatomy review #grey's #grey's abc

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mypoorexcuseforwriting · 5 years

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Just Hold On - Part Three

Pairing: Surgeon!Loki x Surgeon!Reader

Word Count: 1658

Summary: When you end up in a car accident, you’re shocked to find out you can see everything that’s going on while you’re in a coma.

Warnings: Near death, hospitals

Prompt: Greys Anatomy

A/N: Part Three of my fic that I have entered in @revengingbarnes 10K Writing challenge.

I make my way into the scrub room and have to stop myself from scrubbing once I realise that I’m not performing surgery, I’m having surgery performed on me. I instead make my way into the OR, leaving all of my friends who are scrubbing behind as I walk towards my body. I watch as Bruce, my favourite Anesthesiologist doses me up with enough drugs to keep me under for the entire surgery. He leans down swiping my hair from my face and whispering “I’ve got you” before turning his eyes to the monitor, where they will stay for the rest of the surgery as he keeps an eye on my stats.

I hear the OR doors open and turn to see Derek enter first, everyone else following behind them, hands held up ready to get their gloves and gowns on. The vibe in the OR is so much tenser and to be honest, highly off-putting. I don’t know whether I’d rather be in mine or their positions at the moment, both seem to be pretty challenging.

I watch as everyone quickly sorts themselves, rushing around each other wanting nothing more than to get the surgery over with, so I can get better and come back to them. However, that’s not how this works. Each and every one of them needs to calm themselves and take a couple of deep breaths before they all fall apart, inside my body.

I watch as Clint bumps into one of the scrub nurses and a surgical tray goes flying. I wince, now so much more nervous for the surgery to begin. God, I hope my patients don’t go through this.

“People! Take a breath. Everybody, I mean it.” Rhodey interrupts, thankfully noticing that the OR is way too chaotic for this surgery to be successful. “Stop what you're doing, and every one of you take a breath and centre yourself. There's no room for rushing here. We rush, we make a mistake. So, everybody, take a breath.” he continues and I watch as they all stand still. The sound of their inhales and exhales filling the OR.

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

I watch as Derek makes the first incision, Bailey following soon after. “What music do we want to listen to?” Bruce asks and Derek speaks up.

“Rock. It’s what (Y/N) would want.”

I walk over to Derek, watching as he cuts into my skull as he tries to find my subdural hematoma. Amelia is assisting him, having taken over Meredith's usual position, needing to be as close as possible. Meanwhile, Bailey is searching my abdomen to try and locate all my bleeders so I don’t bleed out. The rest of my injuries aren’t urgent enough to worry about at the moment. After the control the bleeding they will close me up and if I make it another 24 hours, then they’ll go in and fix all the other problems.

“Someone needs to go and keep Loki company” orders Rhodey and Derek looks up at all the faces around him.

“Amelia” he suggests and Amelia looks at him, seemingly frustrated at the thought of leaving me. However, one look at Derek and she knows he’s right, she’s the only one, besides Derek and myself that could comfort him at the moment. So with hesitation, she hands the suction to Meredith and walks out of the OR. I follow after her.

“Has anyone seen Dr Odinson?”

As Amelia makes her way through the halls of the hospital I can’t help but notice she keeps coming up blank. Where else could he be? As we round the corner I am met with him. He’s walking away from Thor who is occupied on the phone. As I take a step closer I can hear Thor’s conversation, it seems to be with my father. I listen for a moment longer to hear they are booking flights and I let out a sigh of relief, happy to know my parents will be here soon. However, at the moment I have more pressing issues, like my fiance on the verge of a mental breakdown.

I turn to see Amelia is no longer there and begin to panic, frantically searching the halls around me. I catch a quick glimpse of her brunette hair and dark blue scrubs turning the corner at the end of the hall and sprint after her, refusing to lose Loki again.

As I catch up I watch as she halts by the door to the stairwell, taking a step back to glance through the window. I watch as her shoulders drop and she turns, reaching for the door handle and yanking the heavy wooden door open. I run towards her, knowing if I don’t make it through before the door closes I’m stuck out here.

I quickly slip through the gap and am faced with Loki, sitting on the stairs, head in his hands, his body shaking. The sound of the door clicking alerts him to Amelia’s presence and he looks up, his eyes red and teary. I feel my eyes start to well at the sight, sad to see him like this but also mad at myself for being the reason for his pain.

Amelia takes a seat beside him and places her hand on his knee. They don’t have to talk, each of them knowing what the other is thinking, but still, Loki speaks up, “I can’t live without her. I just can’t.”

Amelia is quiet for a moment, taking it all in, she knows this is true, for both him and her. I can tell she can’t deal with another loss and she knows it too. She stays quiet and instead leans her head on his shoulder, the two of them sitting in silence, just happy to have support.

“How’s the baby?” Loki asks after a few more moments of silence.

Amelia looks up, “She’s stable at the moment but anything could happen, preterm delivery is very possible at this point.” she says sadly and they both go silent. After a few more seconds Amelia shoots up off the stairs, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

Loki and I look at her confused, wondering what could cause such a sudden change in her demeanour. However it only takes a few more seconds and the name “Addison” to slip off her lips for Loki and I to understand what she was up to and honestly, it was almost as if I saw some of the weight being lifted off all our shoulders.

I let out a breath before looking the two over one more time, content they will keep each other sane. My hand reaches for the door handle behind me and I realise I’m stuck. Shit. I need to get out of here. There were still people I needed to check on. Bucky, Natasha, Steve. I look around and as I sprint up the stairs before me I hope and pray that someone else needs to enter this stairwell.

As I reach the last flight of stairs I am out of breath and ready to give up. Apparently, everyone in this hospital is too lazy to even consider the stairs. Although I can’t say much during my time at this hospital I think I’ve used the stairs maybe 5 times if that.

I groan, leaning my head against the wall in frustration. I’m literally on the brink of death, surely something has to go my way.

Just as the thought escapes my brain I hear the creak of one of the doors. I take a step towards the railing, leaning over to see which door it is. Thankful to see its the one right below me. Turning around I gap it down the stairs, making a beeline for that door, it coming into sight as it begins to close. I take a deep breath and sprint for the door, stumbling down the last few steps before slipping between the door and the frame just in time.

I stop for a second, letting out a breath or relief and composing myself before I head off to find one of my friends.

It’s been about 30 minutes now and I still haven’t found anyone, so in a fit of desperation, I make my towards the OR board in search of Nat’s name. Sure enough there it is, on top of the board in OR 1, Dr Webber and Torres assigned to her case.

I turn to the right and make a beeline for the gallery. I reach the end of the hall and go to turn right again but the elevators dinging to my left draws my attention and I see Bucky get out, his hands on his head as he passes back and forth in front of it.

I turn towards him and begin to make my way down the hallway, watching as he leans against the wall, sliding down it and placing his head in his hands. As I get closer I can hear his sobs and my heart begins to break. Nobody deserves this, none of these amazing people should be getting put through the wringer like they are right now.

As I reach him, I slide down the wall and take a seat beside him, leaning my head on his shoulder and wishing he knew I was here. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of nurses running throughout the halls, the elevator dinging and machines beeping, feeling at home in the chaotic environment.

“Bucky,” I hear a familiar voice say. Opening my eyes I glance up to see Steve hovering over us. “Natasha is out of surgery.” He didn’t need to say anything more as he held out his hand for Bucky to take. I watched as he did and Steve pulled him up off the ground and towards the elevator as I stumbled up off the ground to follow after them.

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lycanhood · 6 years

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Supergirl 4x07 Liveblog

SPOILERS!!!!! obviously for Rather a Fallen Angel

I’m sorry, do the police just do everything Supergirl tells them to?

Kara, be more on board for this team-up

James, at what point during this abduction I mean interview do you start questioning your own life choices?

Lena, baby, leave it down, you’ll get a headache

Lena, baby, no, I’m getting bad vibes off this plan

Um Subject 0331 is cute, but also how old???

Age??? Isn’t relevant to this experiment?

Only 15%? That’s not so bad

I would love to listen to Lena describe Supergirl this way hehe

Haha what about Lena makes Subject 0331 think Lena could ever be a mere lab tech? She’s never stood behind a man. (Except for James here lately, but let’s not talk about that)

Why are they talking about the disappearances of members of a known hate group instead of the people they violently assaulted on Thanksgiving (including but not limited to a very good boy named Spike)

Maybe we should give Manchester Supergirl’s cell #

Ok, I guess Tom is the least despicable of all the haters?

When did Supergirl make this add and why weren’t we allowed to see it? #LetKaraZor-ElInteractWithAlienInAFunWay2018

But he just said NO BOATS on or off

Um, I’m thinking we shouldn’t open that

Kara, how can you tell it’s freezing? Explain to me your range of sensation

He said he was sorry, Kara :(

KIERAN!!!!!!!!!!! KIERAN???? Wow

Dr. K??? I love it

Lena knows a little something something about living in a sibling’s shadow.

“She was the only hero I ever had.” Oh boy here we go

Grief baking?

Okay, Kara, but anyone can break a jaw with brass knuckles

Is it burnt tho?

Oooo, that’s rough. Like really really rough

She’s very sagacious, dude

I can’t tell if Tom is starting to see the light or if this is a trick. I really want to trust him and his dog, but I’ve been let down before

Alright, James, damn, I’m inspired! Go off i guess

Supergirl is a big gun tho. She’s not very sneaky with the cape and the colors and whatnot

Um...I like him, but did he fuck with that grenade?

I would have loved to seen this place when it was operational. But noooo

Aw shit a problematic fave :(

Don’t feel bad, Kara, I trusted him too. It’s the accent

ALEX!!!!

Backstory? BACKSTORY!!!!

Um Lena, you were FOUR! How do you even remember that?

Whoa that’s so heavy

Does medical experimentation usually involve this much bonding and tearful confessions?

James, you just gonna take their word for it?

Wonder Woman (2017) wink wink

Kara, he doesn’t have super hearing, girl

Alright, Tom, Manchester, I forgive you, but you’re both on thin ice

What? Why?

You’re right, Adam. Firefighters are the real heroes here.

Lena, no. This is a bad idea.

Also, if you had a fucking lab coat, people would know you’re the scientist, just sayin

J’onn is pissed

“You did WHAT to my space daughter!?!”

What’s that thing do?

Oh God, LENA, NO

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

Someone should talk to Lena, I don’t even care who, honestly! Things are getting DARK over at L-Corp. Like...Grey’s Anatomy dark, ya know

Okay, but when I said I didn’t care, I meant it should be Kara *sigh*

NO shit, James

Awful. It was awful, thanks for asking

Brainy and the Danvers Sisters!!!!

Oh, J’onn, don’t cry :(

Wow this episode was heavy. No Spike the Dragon to lighten the mood this week

Nia Nal next week! Looks Nia x Briany centric, sweet :)

I’m wondering when they are going to address all the lingering stuff between Lena and Supergirl tho. Like??? Kara’s never gonna try to apologize again or...idk thank Lena personally for the power rangers suit. Give us something. Or does all that just go in the box with Cadmus and Jeremiah Danvers?

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hellyeahomeland · 6 years

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[Hi! We’re back. We haven’t done a Director’s Chair feature since “R is for Romeo” so please bear with us as we get back into the swing of it. This week’s episode was directed by Michael Klick, who has been a producer on the show since the very beginning and directed his first episode last year (“The Flag House,” which you can read our Director’s Chair feature on here). The DP for this episode was Giorgio Scali, who, along with David Klein, heads up the photography department on the show.]

“Standoff” | Directed by Michael Klick

The episode opens not with a shot of Carrie’s face, but of her hands. Her manic energy--she’s restless and can’t stop fidgeting--is further highlighted by what we hear but don’t yet see: those signature Carrie Mathison huffs and puffs. The device reminded us of the reveal of manic Carrie in “The Vest,” as Saul hears her gradually loudening yelling about her green pen before the camera finally reveals her battered and bruised face.

Our first glimpse of the compound in this episode comes as the fleet of FBI vehicles approach. That yellow “Don’t Tread on Me” flag was a major symbol of the American revolution. Notably missing: the American flag.

Next, JJ and a clearly happy dog appear down one half of a forked road. This fork in the road, and the hesitation and impasse associated with that image, come to represent the main thematic elements of this episode, at least as it pertains to Saul and O’Keefe. These two men (themselves with massively divergent paths) face major decisions in this episode and their storyline is wrapped up in their “wait and see” approach to the brewing confrontation on the compound.

As Saul and JJ meet, we get the first of many medium or wide shots that Klick and Scali use in the episode, showing two characters in this kind of symmetrical yet combative stance. Saul’s on one side, and O’Keefe and his “army” are on the other.

We also got some season one vibes from the scene of Carrie and Maggie in Maggie’s kitchen. Carrie’s ensuing panic attack and Maggie’s calm brings us back to the end of “Blind Spot” when Carrie shows up on Maggie’s doorstep, distraught.

Sara’s notes here were simply “cool ass shots.” We don’t really have much more to say but the focus shift in this scene from O’Keefe to Saul was some fancy camerawork. Kudos!

As this is our first Director’s Chair for season seven, let’s talk about how they’re shooting Keane this season. Namely, it’s exactly the same as they shot her last season! Tons of close-ups where she’s just inches away from her adversary (or advisor, as it were) -- literally mano a mano. The camera angle even contributes to the power dynamics at play here, as they typically film Keane slightly from below, so it appears she’s looking down on Wellington.

Keane has always been shown as a principled, rigid politician when it comes to her policies. What’s changed, of course, is what those policies are. The way she talks to Wellington here is almost identical to how she talked to Dar Adal last year: perpetually in confrontation mode, and never backing down.

Nothing to add here but what do we think is in the box in Carrie’s closet labeled “GREY”? All of her grey pantsuits? Her Grey’s Anatomy DVD boxsets? PROP MASTERS OF HOMELAND, PLEASE LET US KNOW.

~IJLTP~

Last year we evaluated the contents of Carrie’s refrigerator, and this season we’re getting even more personal. Just what the heck is in Josie Mathison-Dunn’s medicine cabinet? (Also, guess Bill’s last name is Dunn. We still want to call him Bill Mathison.)

First, some Mario Badescu Skincare products. Sara has literally never heard of this man. We have an aloe, cucumber, and green tea cucumber spray. Also an aloe, herbs, and rosewater facial spray. (Side note: what is “facial spray”? Sara has also never heard of this.)

A bottle of Murad Razor Burn Rescue at the far left.

That tube in the middle with the happy-go-luck young woman is Benefit Pore Fessional Minimizer. Gail says this smells really good and works wonders. Sara has never heard of this product before but she does get her eyebrows waxed at the Benefit Cosmetics stores in NYC and really likes them and all the millennial pink and calm vibes there.

That tiny blue bottle next to the nail polish (speaking of nail polish, Sara calls BS that a teen as moody as Josie has bright pink and purple nail polish. WWDBD?) is Too Faced Shadow Insurance, which is some sort of eyelid primer. Once again, Sara has never heard of it and Gail hasn’t used it (“I’m a Smashbox girl!”). We do both love that the prop department found a product called “Too Faced.” We see what you did there.

Our thoughts on the cosmetic and facial care portions of Josie’s medicine cabinet can be described thusly:

Sara: I’m sorry but do teenage girls have this many products in their medicine cabinets? Is this a thing? Did she pick this up in Rome? Am I just that out of touch??

Gail: There is no way a teenage girl that owns a shadow primer only has one make-up brush in her arsenal. Sorry, not buying it.

Josie also has three meds in her cabinet. The first is Isotretinoin, which according to the world wide web is used for treating severe acne.

The second bottle is of course Adderall.

We think the third bottle is Methylphenidate (the generic name for Ritalin), which, like Adderall, is used to treat ADHD.

We get the second Carrie mirror shot in as many episodes. This is just one in a long trend on this show (i.e., it is the thirty-seventh but certainly not the last!). And while the mirror and hair length may change, the tone and meaning of them almost never does. She’s steeling herself here--for an inevitable crash, for another day of a waking nightmare, for the descent further into the rabbit hole.

The Saul/O’Keefe confrontation is notable for a few reasons. First, again Klick and Scali shoot almost the entire sequence in a series of medium or wide shots where both characters are contained in the shot yet standing opposite each other. There are almost no shot/reverse shot cuts where we see a frame of just Saul and then one of just O’Keefe. They are literally in a standoff.

The progression of their stance is also interesting. As Saul first approaches O’Keefe, he’s standing on the opposite side of the picnic table. As their conversation continues, he comes around to O’Keefe’s side and sits next to him.

The wider shots in this scene also reveal the imbalance at play and, in hindsight, hint at O’Keefe’s long game. Behind Saul, we see the FBI in the distance, ready to pounce. In a show of power, the FBI has numbers, large vehicles, and a coordinated presence. The playing field isn’t even. O’Keefe only has a handful of supporters, including some young children. Abandoned bicycles, an empty picnic table, and an over-turned red wagon depict a typical rural yard of an American family. This is not a war zone in some faraway place. The country is in a civil war and Klick sets the scene to drive this point home--literally.

Sara picked up on this facial reaction upon first viewing--after Dante says his bipolar ex-girlfriend left him--but couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Gail chipped in with a simple explanation: it’s her appreciation of his empathy, which is not something she’s that used to in her daily life. Carrie still views her bipolar disorder as a reason not to be with her--those wounds may be buried, but they exist nonetheless. The jury remains out on whether Dante’s intentions are altruistic or not, but this moment was interesting nonetheless.

The sequence of Carrie resisting being booked was a powerful reminder of early season three, where she is restrained and drugged against her will (though as part of a larger “play”). When you combine this with the images we’ll see weekly in the opening credits, what does this tell us about the path Carrie’s going down?

Here we have yet another shot where the camera is shooting Keane from slightly above. This angle further illustrates the tension (they are literally not seeing each other “eye to eye”) and power dynamics of their relationship. It’s clear that Keane does not see them as equals (nor should she, to be honest).

With each episode this season, Carrie is more isolated and alone. Here she’s locked inside a sterile and dark room all by herself, bolstering her current estrangement from anything resembling a normal life. These shots especially call back to the end of “Tower of David,” when she’s crouched and alone in her room in the hospital. The combination of these images, their heavy parallel to past seasons, and Carrie’s comment to Maggie about a “locked ward” leads to a potent sense of foreboding.

This is a totally gorgeous shot--the blue and red in the background and the way Carrie is lit from behind. Sometimes this show is really visually arresting.

Klick and Scali film Carrie and Dante here just as they shot Saul and O’Keefe earlier in the episode. The wide shot with both characters in frame suggests the same adversarial “standoff” stance, and yet the moment itself seems on the surface healing and supportive. Have we mentioned the show is giving us mixed messages about Dante?

We don’t have to remind you all of the parallels between this scene and the one with Carrie and Quinn at the end of “Still Positive,” but we will anyway. Even the shed in the back is red!

The final shot of the episode, an absolutely beautiful wide shot, again depicts both characters in frame. Dante looks over at Carrie while she stares straight ahead. And despite the light in the background (Quinn’s “light on the headlands, steering [her] clear of the rocks”?), Carrie is still shown in the dark. Again we must ask, is there more going on with Dante than she realizes?

The score used at the end of this episode was originally used at the end of “The Star” (and later at the end of “The Man in the Basement”) when Carrie draws a star on the wall for Brody. The use of it in this scene, along with the visual callbacks to a famous scene with Quinn, combine to form a strange and eerie amalgam of Carrie’s past romances. Brody’s music and Quinn’s words. Where does Dante fit into this equation and what is the show trying to say? For now, those remain open questions.

Finally, the colors in this last shot--red, white, and blue--feel symbolic. Carrie is forever fighting for the country she loves--the country she feels an innate duty to protect--even to her own detriment. In this episode alone she sacrifices her mental health, yet again, to continue on with this battle. As the bright lights illuminate the sky against a brilliant backdrop of the colors of the American flag, the music viewers have come to associate with loss, broken promises, and missed chances swells.

Our freedom doesn’t come free. And Carrie has chosen her price.

ETA: Ashley would like us to point out that we missed the Clean & Clear in Josie’s cabinet and that cabinets are entirely her domain for all future reference. We deeply and sincerely apologize, Ashley.

#homeland #homelandedit #in the director's chair #michael klick #standoff #by: sara #by: gail #*#PHEW

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