Jensenlina
Jan. 18th, 2020 05:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)

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Thank you to everyone who contributed! Hope you’ve had a great Femslash February.
some smutty carolina/south ;) by agentsouthdakota (Carolina/South, Rated E)
Featherlight by anneapocalypse (South/CT, Rated G)
Over by anneapocalypse (Jensen/Volleyball, Rated T)
Recovering by anneapocalypse (Carolina/Kimball, Rated T)
Another Chance by autisticblueteam (Carolina/CT, Rated T)
Show Off by autisticblueteam (Carolina/Niner, Rated T)
Your Friend, Connie by autisticblueteam (Tex/CT, Rated T)
carokai by eggmondsammich (Carolina/Kaikaina)
gym rat couple by southicut (South/CT)
Title: Recovering
Author: anneapocalypse
Fandom: Red vs. Blue
Characters/Pairings: Agent Carolina/Vanessa Kimball
Length: 727 words
Rating: Teen & Up
Warnings: Hospitals, Needles, Medical Stuff
Summary: Carolina wakes up in the hospital, back on Chorus.
Notes: Set early in season 16. It's always kinda bothered me that Carolina didn't seem to suffer a lot of symptoms from the armor lock and we didn't see her undergoing any kind of medical care or recovery. So I wrote this for Femslash February! Many thanks to blunderheart for beta reading.
Carolina wakes, blinking, under white lights and a blue blur she can’t quite bring into focus. It’s all fog and glare, and a sharp stab in her temples and at the base of her skull that slowly begins to dissipate as her vision clears.
She flexes her hands, moves her arms, and feels it then—a needle taped into the crease of her left elbow. The outline of a clear IV bag hanging on a stand.
And then a hand in hers. Warm and trigger-calloused, and familiar even before it comes into focus.
"Hey," Vanessa says softly. The blue is a suit, two buttons undone at the collar of a white button-down and the hem of the jacket creased from sitting. "I came as soon as I heard."
( Read on AO3 )
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of an adrenaline junkie?”
Carolina dismounted the ceiling with a distinct thunk and stuck the landing—Niner was surprised she didn’t do the whole arms up thing, y’know, seeing as the woman moved like a trained gymnast. Hell, she could have been a trained gymnast, for all she knew. These Freelancers came in all shapes and sizes and Carolina made up at least half of those shapes and sizes all on her own.
The amount of talents that woman had—quite frankly it was ridiculous. Someone had too much time on their hands as a kid.
Carolina pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair, tufts sticking up out of a waterfall of red that had come loose from her ponytail. The helmet hair really added a note of exhilaration to the whole look as she grinned through to the cockpit, eyes bright and alive. “What would ever give anyone that idea?”
( Read more... )“You know, that’s a good look on you.”
Carolina lifted her arm away from her eyes and squinted through the bright lights of the hospital room. The person-shaped shadow—looking small, in the elongated doorframe—raised a hand, before stepping through and letting the door shut behind them.
“Dehydrated is a good look on me?” she said, pushing herself up into a more upright position. Her visitor pulled off her helmet and set it on the table beside Carolina’s bed, next to her own; almost a matching pair, if not for the smaller size and the distinctive shade of brown.
“I was thinking more the resting thing.” Connie folded her arms under her chest, the corner of her lips quirked in amusement. “But you don’t look bad for someone who spent two days in a murder fridge.”
Carolina shook her head. Her voice was still dry and strained, but there was more colour in her face and light in her eyes than there had been only hours ago. “First of all, that didn’t sound at all like you think it did. Second, murder fridge?”
( Read more... )