#I will get through today because I have tomorrow off

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World

Chapter 10 ☆Moment 4 Life☆

Sorry this took so long I just kept hitting a roadblock while writing it but I finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy as always feedback is appreciated ;) Word count: 2.17k Warnings: Lots of sports talk, Mentions of alcohol consumption, and tension😏

24 Hours before The World Series 

The stage was set: Atlanta Braves vs. Houston Astros. And believe me, I was ready.

I let out a deep breath as I racked the bar on the squat rack. Working out always seemed to calm my nerves before a big game, especially this one.

I sat down on the beach and took a sip from my water bottle. Part of my brain hadn’t fully processed the fact that tomorrow was the biggest game of my career, while the other part was trying to focus and get into the zone.

“Hercules! Hercules! Hercules!” my mom called out, quoting The Nutty Professor while clapping her hands.

Looking over my shoulder, I shook my head and laughed. “Morning, Ma.”

“Good morning, sweetheart! Breakfast is ready,” she said, leaning against the doorway.

“You didn't have to; I was going to grab something before—” I started to say, but she cut me off.

“You know how I am,” she waved her hand. “Come on upstairs and eat before the pancakes get cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After a fantastic breakfast made by Mom—something I'm sure my trainer will have a few words about later—I walked onto the field for practice. The familiar scents of fresh paint and damp dirt filled the air.

Practice felt different today and in a good way. Everyone was pushing themselves just a little harder, and smiles were on everyone's faces; rightfully so, considering tomorrow is the World Series—who wouldn't be excited?

Walking into the media room for what could possibly be my final time, I took a seat and quickly greeted everyone in the room.

“Sierra, how are the nerves less than 24 hours away from the World Series?” the first reporter asked.

I took a breath before answering. “Pretty good! I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous, because that would be a lie. But the right kind of nerves are good.”

“The last time you all played against the Astros, you lost a three-game series. Are you confident that you can beat them?” another reporter inquired.

Confident? Man, please.

“We don’t have any other choice but to beat them. I am confident that we’ve learned from our mistakes, and we will win,” I replied with conviction. 

Once again, Mom commandeered my kitchen for dinner, but honestly, I can't complain. There's something comforting about her culinary prowess that makes the house feel warm and inviting.

Later that evening, as I settled down to unwind, I scrolled through Instagram when a notification caught my eye. I had been tagged in a video posted by the Bengals, and my curiosity piqued. Tapping on the notification, Joe's familiar face filled my screen, a snippet from his press conference earlier that day.

“The World Series starts tomorrow. Do you plan on watching?” a reporter asked, his voice steady with anticipation.

“Yeah, I do. Got to watch my girl get the win,” Joe replied, a wide grin lighting up his face.

Wait a minute—did he just say “my girl”? 

It struck me like a bolt of lightning. We hadn't even been on a date yet, let alone discussed any labels or commitments, yet here he was, claiming me in front of the world.

Possessive? Yes. But I have to admit, I liked it.

World Series Game 1

Today is the day: Game 1 of the World Series.

Waking up felt different today. Getting dressed felt different. Even having my hair and makeup done felt different. Everything feels different, but not in a bad way—more like, this is my moment.

As I walk into the ballpark, I find myself not really paying attention to the cameras. My focus is on the game ahead of me, and I’m also trying not to trip in these heels. I see why I don’t wear them often—they hurt!

But that pain quickly faded away when the first pitch of the game was thrown.

Two teams will play between 4 to 7 games, all for one prize: the Commissioner’s Trophy. This is the World Series.

Game 1 is in the books. Unfortunately, we didn't secure a win, but that's okay; you win some, you lose some. The score was 4-8.

In Game 2, we bounced back with a blowout victory of 7-0.

Game 3 saw us lose home-field advantage, but we still managed to win in Houston, finishing with a score of 4-1.

In Game 4, Houston gained some momentum and narrowly won by one run, with a final score of 6-5.

Game 5 went into extra innings, but we pulled through and got the job done, ending with a score of 10-9.

In Game 6, the Astros clinched a victory with a grand slam, keeping their World Series hopes alive. The final score was 8-7.

Now, we find ourselves back in Atlanta for the last game of the series. As of right now, my nerves are on edge because, in this game, every hit counts, every out matters, and most importantly, every score matters.

It all comes down to this pivotal moment. The stadium is electric as I stand at the bottom of the 9th inning, two outs secured, with a runner perched on second base. With the score hanging in the balance at 8-7 against us, the weight of the situation bears down heavily on my shoulders.

I know exactly what I need to do: connect solidly with the ball and drive it deep into the outfield, giving the runner a chance to dash home. Easy, right? Just a casual swing in front of 31,000 fervent fans who are all hoping for a miracle.

Stepping into the batter's box, I adjust my helmet and take a deep breath, trying to drown out the cacophony of cheering and chanting that envelops Truist Park. The familiar strains of "It's A Man's World" echo in my ears, heightening my focus as I mentally prepare for what lies ahead.

I set my stance, feeling the cool air against my skin, and lock eyes with the pitcher on the mound. He’s a seasoned player, his demeanor calm, yet I can sense the tension rippling through him as he glances briefly at the runner on second before facing me again. With a swift motion, he winds up and launches his pitch toward me.

I tighten my grip on the bat and, as the ball approaches, I make the decision to check my swing. I hold back just in time, watching the ball sail past me — it’s a ball, one count, no strikes. I exhale slowly, mentally recalibrating for the next pitch.

Gathering my concentration again, I position myself for what could be my final chance. The pitcher goes through his routine again, taking a moment to check the runner’s position before propelling the ball towards me once more.

This time, I hold my breath as I watch the projectile race toward the plate. I swing my bat with everything I’ve got, the wood making solid contact with the ball. The sound is explosive, resonating like a whip crack through the air, sending a thrill through my veins.

As I adjust my stance, I see the ball soaring into the sky, arcing beautifully as it heads toward the outfield. It continues its ascent, disappearing over the stadium's walls and splashing into the waterfall display that adds to the ambiance of this incredible venue.

In that exhilarating moment, it hits me: we just won the World Series.

Holy shit… WE JUST WON THE WORLD SERIES!

In an adrenaline-fueled rush, I slam my bat to the ground, the echo of victory reverberating in my ears as I begin my journey around the bases. The stadium erupts in a deafening roar — fireworks burst overhead, illuminating the night sky, while the crowd erupts with cheers and shouts, a collective celebration of triumph.

Tossing my helmet aside, I approach home plate, my heart racing as my teammates swarm me the instant I touch it. They envelop me in a chaotic celebration, screaming and jumping in unison, pure joy radiating from every face.

This is the pinnacle of my dreams, a moment I’ve envisioned since I was just a nine-year-old girl playing wiffle ball in my backyard with my uncle. From being the only girl on the high school baseball team to earning a full-ride scholarship at LSU, and culminating in winning the state championship, this moment eclipses them all: winning the World Series.

God. 

is. 

good. 

Every ounce of hard work, every sacrifice, every moment of doubt pales in comparison to the realization of this dream. I stand amidst the celebration, grateful, overwhelmed, and utterly elated. This is why I play.

After a whirlwind of interviews followed by a bear bath celebration, a refreshing shower, and an energetic afterparty, I finally stepped back into the comforting embrace of my home. 

“Thanks again, Kyle,” I called out, watching as he made his way back toward the elevator, his figure illuminated by the soft hallway lights. 

“No problem, sleep well,” he replied, flashing a warm smile before disappearing behind the elevator doors. The best driver in the world, hands down.

With a sigh of relief, I unlocked my front door and crossed the threshold, the familiar scent of home washing over me. I locked the door behind me and, with a gentle thud, dropped my duffle bag right at the entrance, mentally promising myself I’d unpack it tomorrow—or, more likely, later today. All I craved was the soft cocoon of my bed, a well-deserved sanctuary after such a long day.

As I rounded the corner toward my room, I noticed a sliver of light cutting through the darkness—the kitchen light glowed unexpectedly. I furrowed my brow, certain I hadn’t left it on. Perhaps my mom had flicked it on before heading out to the airport. 

Curiosity piqued, I padded softly toward the kitchen, only to be met with an utterly unexpected sight: a strikingly handsome quarterback, standing 6’3” with tousled hair and piercing blue eyes, casually leaning against my counter like he owned the place.

“Surprise,” he said, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

A smile broke across my face as I shook my head in disbelief. “Surprise indeed,” I replied, the warmth of his presence igniting a flutter of happiness in my chest.

“C'mere,” Joe beckoned, his arms outstretched, inviting me into a hug that felt both familiar and incredibly grounding. 

I stepped into his embrace, surrendering to the moment as he nestled a tender kiss on the top of my head. “Proud of you,” he murmured, his breath warm against my hair.

Emotions swelled within me, and I simply nodded, overwhelmed by his kindness. 

Joe pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine, an edge of concern etching his features. “You okay?”

Looking up at him, I nodded, a smile slipping out as I exhaled. “Yeah,” I breathed, “Just really, really happy—and maybe a little drunk,” I chuckled, the effects of the evening buzzing in my system. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago,” Joe replied, his tone laced with both excitement and regret. “Today starts my bye week, and I figured, why not surprise you? Just wish I could have been here to see you win,” he added a bittersweet note in his voice.

“It’s okay, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me,” I reassured him, my eyes drifting from the depth of his gaze to the inviting curve of his lips, only to return to his eyes—intensely captivating.

Ugh, why did he have to look so kissable? Damn you, vodka!

A comfortable silence enveloped us, a fragile moment stretched between us, thick with unspoken words and electric tension. 

Clearing his throat, Joe broke the stillness, “Come on, you look like you might pass out,” he teased gently, nodding toward my bedroom. It was true; the exhaustion was pulling at me, whispering sweet nothings of sleep. So, without resisting, I unwound myself from his embrace and began the trek to my room, Joe following closely behind.

I couldn’t tell if it was the lingering alcohol buzzing through my veins or the undeniable desires I felt, but the need to be close to him was intoxicating. In his arms, everything felt perfectly right.

Groaning as I woke up to the bright Atlanta sun shining in my eyes, I pulled the blanket over my head to block out some of the light. I really need to invest in blackout curtains.

Eventually, I decided it was time to get up and start my day.

But as I opened the door, I heard a noise coming from the living room. Is that the TV?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I walked into the living room.

“Morning, sweetheart,” 

@enretrogue @hoodharlow

[butterflywingswrites]

reposting all my anon fics in one place. enjoy 🤗

giving caitlin a massage on vacation part 6

you kissed caitlin aggressively, you were desperate to touch her again. you moved your hand between her legs. she was completely soaked through her underwear. fuck was that all from flirting and touching you?

“caity are you wet from touching me?” you traced patterns on the outside of her underwear. the underwear needed to go

“mmm yes pretty girl. you make me so wet” her admission made your eyes roll to the back of your head. this amazing girl who could be with whoever she wants was wet for you. so wet for you. you pulled her underwear down her gorgeous legs and threw them off the bed, she can find them later. you kissed her deeply as you put your fingers inside her. she moaned into your mouth. you moved to kiss her neck so you could hear her pretty moans. you moved your fingers as you kissed and sucked at her neck. you made sure not to suck too hard. she wasn’t photographed today but you didn’t want her to have marks in case she was recognized tomorrow

you alternated between curling your fingers and moving them in and out of her. judging by her moans of encouragement and the way she was gripping your hair, she was enjoying your fingers. her beautiful moans got louder as you continued to work on her. you could listen to those pretty noises forever. she came on your fingers with a tight grip on your hair. you moved away from her neck to look at her face. her face was flushed and her eyes were blown out. she was completely fucked out and you loved it. you looked her in the eyes as you brought your fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean

“you taste so fucking good” she whimpered at your words and you knew you needed to hear those noises again. you considered spending time kissing her thighs but decided against it. unless you were totally reading the situation wrong, this wasn’t a one time thing you could spend time on her thighs later. plus you teased her enough this morning. you put your face between her legs, moving both of her muscular thighs over your shoulders. you sucked on her clit softly, she just came and you didn’t want her to get overstimulated. those soft moans and sweet whimpers that left her mouth this morning returned. she makes the prettiest noises, you know nobody else would be able to compare. you moved between licking her pussy and sucking on her clit

“i’m close pretty girl keep going” you moved your hand to her clit and licked her pussy, making sure she was stimulated enough to finish but not overstimulated. caitlin gripped aggressively at your hair and finished with a loud moan of your name. you let her ride out her orgasm on your face then cleaned her up with your tongue

“can you give me the washcloth? i want to make sure you are fully clean” she handed you the washcloth from the nightstand. you used it to gently clean her and she smiled

“i’ve been thinking about this for years” her words made your face heat up

“why didn’t you say anything? we could’ve been fucking for four years?!”

“i told you, i didn’t know you liked girls for like three years. i had no idea until i saw you kissing that girl. why didn’t you say anything?”

“i thought you weren’t interested” you admitted

“the pushing the beds together and cuddling didn’t tip you off?” you hung your head in shame. looking back it was probably something you should’ve noticed

“i thought you were being friendly and it might’ve been weird because we were teammates” you said honestly “then when we weren’t teammates anymore you had that thing with connor and i thought i missed my window. also what happened with that?”

“i should’ve said something when i found out you were bi so it’s not all on you but i was also nervous about the teammate thing” caitlin’s tone switched from serious to light “oh connor. that was a mess”

“you never said what happened it was just over. what kind of mess?” caitlin started laughing

“we were going to hook up and he took his shirt off. i started laughing at his hideous chest tattoos. he got pissy and ran away” you joined caitlin in her laughter

“they really are hideous! well don’t worry i won’t get any terrible tattoos. promise” you smiled at her

“well since you promised, that means you should probably be my girlfriend” she smiled wide. there were those dimples again. you nodded enthusiastically

“yes of course i’ll be your girlfriend” you leaned in and pecked her on the lips “can you hold me?” caitlin nodded. you got back into the tv watching position again, except this time you both knew what it meant. your phone rang, it was a facetime from kate. you looked at caitlin and she nodded. you answered the phone with the camera facing the ceiling

“hi i’m so sorry but i have to know. are you guys together or hooking up or what?” kate asked frantically. you moved your phone so kate could see you in caitlin’s indiana fever shirt and caitlin with her arm around your chest

“hi kate” caitlin said shyly

“i fucking knew it!”

[leaawrites]

Enough for tonight

Noel Gallagher x fem!actress!reader

Summary: in which, she takes care of him after another long day recording.

Part of the 'Pretty Little Liar' series, but can be read as a standalone as well.

Warnings: angst, fluff, a bit toxic (maybe?), cursing

Wordcount: 1k

Part 1, Part 2, Masterlist

Standing by the doorway, she watched his head and arms move as he played a simple melody, humming ever so slightly, before hearing it back and groaning in frustration. Deleting it and doing it again. It was midnight and he had been huddled up in the room for most of the day. He would do the same thing tomorrow again.

He needed some rest, she could hear it in the way the chords were messed up ever so often. Leading to only more frustration building up inside of him.

“It’s enough for tonight, Noel,” she said, walking up behind him. Massaging the tension out of his shoulder while watching the screen light up with an unreasonable amount of tracks layered over each other. Bright colours reflecting in his glazed eyes.

“It’s not,” he disagreed, shaking his head. Leaning forward to free himself from her touch and the comfort it brought. “It’s not done yet.”

“It can be done tomorrow. It’s alright if it’s not finished today, there’s no threatening deadline to it,” she tried negotiating with him.

“There is,” he insisted, clicking through the tracks and deleting the ones he wasn’t happy with. “There is a deadline.”

“A deadline that’s still two months away. You don’t have to finish this one track now,” she said, walking around the chair, crouching down and laying her head down on his thigh. Looking up at the concern etching on his face. “Let’s just go to bed.”

Noel didn’t answer anymore, he only shook his head. Clicking through the tracks furiously, clicking through other songs. Watching all of his unfinished work become more and more. Stacking upon one another. Bits and pieces of the album, but nothing more. He’d spent most of his days inside the studio and nothing came out of it. All of it for little bits and pieces. Which was basically nothing.

His hands began to shake, the computer mouse fumbling over the screen with no other intention than making it all disappear.

“This is shit,” he mumbled. “This is all shit.”

“It’s not,” she insisted, trying to calm him down.

Taking his hand in her own, away from clicking different spots on the screen. Leaving little kisses on his palm and the back of his hand to make it stop shaking.

“It’s alright.”

His body slumped down, elbows supporting his weight on his knees so that he wouldn’t fall forward. Making sure he wouldn’t fall on her, hurting her.

“It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

“It’s not,” he mumbled, his voice growing louder. “You just don’t fucking get it.”

Pushing her head slightly away so he could stand up without hurting her.

“You don’t know shit about this, all you do is film silly movies. You just go to set, stand in front of a camera and look pretty. There’s literally nothing more to your job. You don’t feel the same as I do. You never could. So stop saying it’s gonna be alright. Just fuck off.”

Turning around, Noel rubbed his hands over his face. Trying to wrap his head around the words that just left his mouth. He didn’t mean them, did he? Fuck no, he didn’t. It was just all too much. And screaming lies felt better than whispering truths in the moment.

He’d seen her working, had seen the strain it left on her whenever she had to rerecord a scene over and over again because it wasn’t perfect in the eyes of one individual. He had listened to her breaking down day after day and still she went back every time. She was in the same position as him more often. She wasn’t in charge of what she was going to do, it was all up to someone else.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, watching her look at him like some stranger would look if they were harassed on the street. Every stray feeling of anger leaving his body at the thought of her walking out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what just happened. I’m so sorry, love.”

Kneeling down in front of her, he took her hands in his. Mumbling against her skin to hopefully make the words transcend into her blood and to her heart and brain. Leaving no question of doubt in her body.

“You’re such an asshole, Noel,” she answered, standing up and turning her back towards him.

Roles reversed, but their feelings stayed the same.

“I know.” He stayed sat on his place on the ground.

Looking at his hunched over figure on the floor, she couldn’t just let him stay like this. If she did, he would just go back to working. Crashing more.

Her socks appeared in his vision, making him look up. Tears straining his eyes.

Taking his hand in hers, she pulled him up. Holding him close and letting his body rely solely on her. Keeping his head buried in the crook of her neck and letting himself being dragged away from his work by her. Up the stairs and into their bedroom. Sitting down on their bed, being take care of for the first time in a long while.

Watching her walk over to the dresser and throwing him his pajamas over without looking if she hit her target. Pulling her own shirt over her head and replacing it with one of his to get comfortable. Settling down on the edge of the bed opposite him. Taking off her pants and not giving him a second glance as she settled down under the covers.

Noel got ready for bed himself, his eyes never leaving her curled up body as he changed his clothes. Walking over to her side, watching silent tears roll down her face.

“God, love,” he said, pushing some hair away from her face and helping her sit up. Sitting down next to her. Her head resting on his shoulder. Making her calm down by taking deep breaths and feeling his hand rub up and down her back.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, pulling her face close and leaning his forehead against her. Feeling her tough facade crumbling as he held her. Shaking fingers clinging to his own.

She was just as done as he was.

Shame washed over him as he noticed how weak he actually was in comparison to her.

“Don’t say that,” she whispered back, looking up with tears pooling in the corners of her eyes once more.

“But it’s the truth.” Catching a stray tear falling from her eye. “You’re too good to me to stay any longer.”

“I won’t go anywhere.” Shaking her head, she pushed herself up a bit, catching his lips with her own. “I will stay for as long as you want me to.”

[tragicallyuncreative]

Chapter five soon queen? Hope all is well!

Consider this my T-minus 12 hours or sooner announcement!!! I WILL be posting Chapter 5 tonight. Whether it be before or after midnight, I can't tell you, but I have tomorrow off and nothing due in the next 24 hours so I'm determined not to sleep before it's posted.

Thank y'all SO much for being so patient. All is well, just been so insanely busy that I haven't had a time to breath, let alone finish editing the chapter. I have learned so much in the last few weeks during my ICU rotations. Spent today managing hemorrhagic shock in a GI bleed patient (original bleed had been repaired and was about to be discharged when it was suddenly like a massacre 😬) and we gave 2 units of blood over the span of 1 minutes through a line in his internal jugular, then watched as they did a bedside emergent colonoscopy and put in 2 endoclips. Coolest shit I've seen in a while (well, not for him, poor guy). @fangirl-docintraining have you had your ICU rotations yet? As my fellow medical nerd who gets so excited/ enthusiastic about new stuff, you will love it!

The biggest reason this chapter has taken so long is my balance between keeping it completely accurate to 1960s medicine vs. incorporating modern elements in a realistic way because it's just hard not to and I really want to keep my plot/ outline intact. If anyone wants clarification about what elements are modern or not that I don't specify in my chapter notes, don't hesitate to ask. There are two articles that I would really love everyone to read before or after reading my chapter. For years, I have been so passionate about St. Jude Hospital and several specific doctors and the work they did/ continue to do to treat pediatric cancer. Dr. Emil Freireich essentially eliminated bleeding as a cause of death in leukemia patients after experimenting with his own platelets and finding the correct way to infuse them. He then proposed that the method of treating tuberculosis (using multiple drugs at once) could also cure leukemia. In 1962, pediatric leukemia was a death sentence. People thought it was crazy that Danny Thomas and these doctors were stating that they would find a way to cure it. Kids diagnosed would die within weeks of diagnosis from infection or bleeding to death. Their experimental treatment of combining two or more chemotherapeutic agents was seen as inhumane by many doctors, who thought that would make these children sicker and it was better to let them die peacefully. To everyone's shock, they saw success. This treatment was trialed in the early 60s, but didn't become something doctors would refer patients to St. Jude to until 1968ish. In 1970, the man behind this extraordinary discovery, Dr. Don Pinkel, was able to officially proclaim that childhood leukemia was no longer a fatal disease, with the cure rate at 50%. Today, ALL has a 94% cure rate, but the treatment remains harsh and lasts approximately 2.5 years. And despite all the hard work of researchers, other pediatric cancers such as Wilm's tumor, Ewing's sarcoma, osteosarcoma, rhabdomyosarcoma, medulloblastoma, DIPG, and more have high relapse rates and higher fatality rates (DIPG is something I encourage everyone to research and support higher funding for- a pediatric brain cancer with 0% survival rate). I actually went to a conference at St. Jude when I was 19 for childhood cancer advocates as I was a top fundraiser that year and interested in a future career there. I cannot say enough positive things about it!

So obviously, my story will deviate the timeline a little and the fictional Children's Hospital of Oklahoma (which in reality was not established until the 21st century) will be offering this experimental treatment in '65. Some of the medications and medical devices I include were not available until after '65 (for example, ports/ central lines in this particular model were not a thing), but I also make a point to use meds that were more common during the time, not include certain devices such as heart monitors, pulse ox, etc.

This has turned into a really long ramble. The point is, I hope everyone is ready to learn a lot this chapter and I encourage you to let this motivate you to learn more about childhood cancer, the fact that it is not as rare as many think, and that it is severely underfunded.

So far, this chapter is 15K words. My last few hours of edits may result in more or a little less. So get comfy and settle in when it's time to read- it's a big one with a lot going on!!

[emeraldspiral]

Mopiness of Doom Script Doctor

So I know Mopiness of Doom is a fan favorite unfinished episode, but I think there's always room for improvement. Plus, since we've had access to the script for decades, there's no way they'd ever finish the episode or publish it as a comic as-is because we'd know all the jokes already and there wouldn't be any surprises. So the only way we'd ever get this story in a completed form would be with a massive re-write anyway.

So to begin with, I think having Dib give up on the paranormal because a talisman he bought at the mall didn't work as-intended is kind of a weak motive to give up on his life's ambition so suddenly. I think it would make more sense if he suffered a particularly humiliating defeat at Zim's hands or if there was another instance of Zim very blatantly giving himself away in public and no one noticing or believing him when he points it out. So he's like covered in garbage or slime or something disgusting, he looks like a total fool, people are pointing and laughing, and it's so demoralizing that he finally feels like it's just not worth it anymore.

Instead of Zim instantly becoming depressed, I'd have him laugh maniacally and gloat about how the earth will soon be his now that he's eliminated Dib as an obstacle. But first he has to come up with a new plan, but he can't. And after racking his brains for hours, he still can't come up with anything. But he figures inspiration will come eventually so he might as well take a break and watch some TV. He's got all the time in the world. No rush now that he doesn't have to worry about Dib anymore.

Then we'd have Dib go home and clear out his room. Gaz sees what he's doing and questions him about it, but instead of being disturbed she's actually happy that he's not going to talk her ear off about shit she doesn't care about anymore or force her to watch Mysterious Mysteries when she wants to use the TV to play a console game. But after Dib gets rid of all the paranormal stuff in his room, it's totally sterile and devoid of personality and he doesn't know what he's going to do now to fill that void in his life. So he asks his dad if he can help him in the lab.

Meanwhile, Zim has begun his transformation into a couch potato, but is totally un-self-aware about it. It occurs to him that he hasn't called the Tallest to brief them on his mission progress in a while. He panics after looking at a calendar and seeing just how long it's been. But then he reconsiders calling the Tallest since he still hasn't come up with a new plan, so there's not much to report. He tells himself that he's really got to get a new plan together today so he can call them tomorrow, but he'll do it after he finishes this next episode. A commercial comes on promoting Membrane's latest invention, and he sees Dib at his father's side and instantly dismisses the notion that his lack of motivation has anything to do with Dib as soon as it pops into his head.

Dib and Membrane are having a good time bonding together at the lab when they get a call from Gaz asking why they aren't home yet. They tell Gaz that they were just wrapping things up and about to head home when they suddenly had a breakthrough, so they tell her to just order take-out and have dinner without them. The next morning, the breakfast table is covered in papers and scientific instruments and Dib and Membrane are excitedly chatting about whatever they're working on, barely acknowledging Gaz when she walks into the room. Their science stuff leaves no room for her to even set down a bowl of cereal. They decide to pick everything up and finish breakfast in the home lab, but it's not because of anything Gaz said, they didn't even hear her complain, they were just really eager to get back to working on their project together.

As Dib is about to leave the kitchen, GIR smashes through the window and begs him to hunt Zim again so he can have the couch back. Dib looks back and forth between GIR and Membrane before telling GIR things are going great for him now, why would he ever want to go back to the thankless job of chasing Zim? Membrane is pleased and Dib leaves with him while GIR cries, pounding his fists on the ground. Gaz tells GIR that she doesn't like how much of their dad's time Dib is monopolizing now, so she'll help him get Dib and Zim back together.

Gaz goes to pay Zim a visit and finds him on the couch covered in take-out boxes with his eyes glued to the TV. One of three different scenarios happens here:

Gaz encourages Zim to come up with a new evil plan to make Dib regret brushing him off. Zim temporarily regains some motivation and tries to get something together, but he either loses steam or the plan just fails to tempt Dib, so he goes back to the couch and sinks deeper into depression.

Gaz tries to encourage Zim and he tries to muster up the effort to get off the couch, but he can't. So she props him up with a broom and lets him think he's doing the work when she's really doing everything to put together an evil plan. For a moment, it seems like it's going to work and Zim starts laughing maniacally and gloating and taking credit for Gaz's idea. But even though Gaz's plan is a legitimate threat, Dib just doesn't care about the imminent demise of the human race anymore. Whatever happens happens, it's not his problem. So the plan is aborted and Zim sinks deeper into depression.

Zim is still in denial. Why would he want Dib back to ruin his plans? He's just taking a little break, but any day now he'll totally make that insolent earth boy regret underestimating him. He doesn't need any help from Gaz. Gaz goes back to Dib and tells him "Zim's totally doing something super evil right now, better go stop him" but Dib brushes it off.

Rather than spending the whole episode seeming like he's totally fine and then dropping real science out of nowhere, Dib does have moments throughout the episode that show he misses the paranormal and is mostly just pushing Zim away because he's mad about being humiliated. He's trying not to click on links recommending him pages about new paranormal discoveries he might be interested in. He and his dad are about to watch a boring documentary together on the TV and he looks longingly at the thumbnail of a cool monster movie he was looking forward to but then pretends he's too mature for something like that now. He hides a UFO magazine behind a scientific journal so no one knows he's still reading that stuff. But it gets to be too much for Dib when he and his dad are hanging out and having a seemingly nice time together, but Membrane keeps making insensitive comments about how happy he is that Dib's gotten over his "delusions" and isn't "insane" anymore. Dib realizes that his dad's acceptance of him is conditional and it feels really shitty to only be liked when he suppresses his true self.

So just as he and Membrane were supposed to head to the lab together, Dib says "Actually, I'd rather not. It was nice spending time with you, but this shit's boring and what I really wanna do right now is catch me an alien". And then Membrane curses the heavens and Gaz smiles smugly as Dib runs off.

Dib barges into Zim's house declaring his intent to stop Zim's latest evil plan. Zim instantly perks up and kicks all the garbage under the couch so Dib won't know what a wreck he was without him and pretends like he definitely does have an evil plan in motion right now that Dib will never be able to stop.

Instead of Zim trapping Dib in a bubble, he starts shooting at him with lasers from his PAK while Dib chases him around his living room with handcuffs. You can hear crashing and car alarms and police sirens and animal screeches from all the destruction being wrought by Zim's lasers misfiring and blasting through the walls and devastating the neighborhood outside. But Dib is totally oblivious to how much more danger humanity is in now while he makes his grandiose speech about stopping Zim's reign of terror. The whole time Zim and Dib are laughing and playfully insulting one another while trying to kill each other, GIR is enjoying the newly unoccupied couch, kicking his little feet in delight as he picks up the remote and puts on some Floopsy Bloops Shmoopsy. The End.

[meownotgood]

I have a really long day today, but getting these akis this morning made me feel like I can do it

[rileys-battlecats]

was trying to figure out why I feel so Wrong rn and I think it's because I didn't follow my usual daily routine like At All and now my brain is freaking out. woke up at a vastly different time, had entirely different tasks throughout the day, took a nap at a weird time (to make up for the fact I had about 3 hours of sleep last night), zero human contact for the past 15 hours, and ate different food from usual (various leftovers from social events/thanksgiving, instead of cooking for myself like normal). and before I really realized that these were all things that were Bad For My Brain I was just wandering around my house like "why do I feel like garbage?? I've literally been outside so much today my brain should be happy"

ANYWAY here's to me not remembering I have issues with unstructured living because my days have been so similar for the past 4ish years that I straight up Forgot that things being too different too fast makes me crazy ✌️

[vjola]

i’ve heard that we survive today. and tomorrow. and the day after that. and the following week. actually we do that for the rest of our lives

[esaari]

honk

[cranberrymoons]

.

[lesbin]

.

[mariatesstruther]

thinking abt the maria’s outbreak night. having many thoughts

[sadgirlautumn]

I’m currently very upset about the American healthcare system. Like I hope they know that they are making people actively sicker 🫶

[lordsardine]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

I feel like I’ve lived through at least a month just in the past 3 days. I checked the date just now and damn near had an out of body experience when I realised Monday was only two days ago

[genekies]

screaming in the club

time for another vent in tags