#alright thanks for reading. buh bye

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

i have things in my head to make my stupid transformers OCs less unbearable so i'm going to write them down on a tumblr post

and rip it apart so it doesn't get unbearably long

it's. mostly just me fixing shit that i hate about my writing

-> FORMAT CHANGE. BIG CHANGE; we're going from [actions in brackets] and character dialogue being marked with abbreviations of their names to A NORMAL FUCKING FORMAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! because the old one is archaic and i despise it

-> LORE CHANGES - RETCON: '07! Optimus Prime threatening to use Rocketjumper as a fucktoy. this one's cringe and doesn't fit Optimus that well. Nemesis, though, maybe. but that's cringe as well; I see Nemesis Prime as more of a 'murderer, arsonist, prisoner-taker' guy than a 'rapist' guy. so that's not happening. - GENERAL CHANGE: i wanna try and write every character as close to their canon or general fanon appearance(s) as possible, e.g. Prime! Arcee being snarky and sassy. this is another ick i have with my old writing because i tended to write most characters way out of character and I Fuckin' Hate It, y'know? - TRYING NOT TO FUCK MY OWN LORE OVER: this one's a little lengthy for a title, but when i first started writing this... piece of shit for a lack of a better term, i said that the war between autobots and decepticons was over. i want to enforce that change and not have it be as much 'they're still killing eachother', maybe have the Autobots and Decepticons try and. you know. hang out. like in Maccadam's, but less focused-in-one-building, if that makes sense? (it doesn't but let's roll with it) as an example, i'm writing a piece where '07!Optimus visits the bone base. just for fun. - I'M GONNA WRITE OUT OF CHARACTER IN RESPONSE TO FOLKS' ASKS (etc.) UNLESS THEY'RE DIRECTED SPECIFICALLY AT ONE OF MY CHARACTERS: right there on the tin. - OPTIC COLOR CHANGE: red optics for decepticons and blue optics for autobots? yeah, no fuck that. we're doing that differently now. e.g.; patchwork's optics are blue now because i tend to imagine him with blue optics, rather than the general standard of red. most folk can change their optic color at will as well, and rocketjumper likes to have green ones. shinin' like emeralds. - I HAD MORE SHIT IN MY HEAD BUT I LOST THE REST: yeah you get the point.

you know how it is. i keep forgetting shit. they're there and i forget how to put them into words. i had them then i lost them. you fuckin' get it.

okay here's one more. - JESUS CHRIST I'M TOO HARD ON MYSELF: if i feel like my writing isn't up to par, i'm gonna start remembering that i'm writing for myself, and myself only. because... jesus christ, the shit that goes on in my head? i don't like it. i want to stop it.

alright, that's enough of that.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I’m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[isaacz]

not a big piece but i really wanted to share my ideas/headcanons for omori character design's! (already apologize for any english errors, i'm writting this at 2 am on a school night help) -HEADSPACE- -My first idea was to have all of headspace characters to look like cartoons, with wompy anatomy and shapes, it's even the reason why i try my best to draw eyes in the omori style, normally i wouldn't but i think it has it's charm. If i ever animated them aswell they would just have very exaggerated movement and reactions, like old cartoons -All of the main cast has different shades of purple! except for basil and omori ofc, basil being shades of green/cyan and omori being shades of darkblue/blue (in game lore it makes completely sense why he doesn't have color but for painting+drawing purposes i made him shades of blue to make the illustrations more interesthing haha)

Might be obvious by now but the characters have lil stars on their hairs and tips of their body parts (props to the omori fandom you guys are creative af, and mostly zipsunz cuz i got it from him) omori ofc doesn't have that BUT he does have a lil shade of dark blue that goes all the way to the end of his hands, i wanted to do that to kinda make a ref to black space, kinda like he has a part of blackspace with him at all times (also yes that hair light is supossed to be something's eye)

-FARAWAY- -WEll if headspace characters are cartoony, then faraway characters seems more real (as real as it can get on my style at least), it's just omori characters in my original style that's it -For sunny i headcanon that he had to constantly cut his hair while in isolation cuz long hair reminded of his sister, so when i draw him i try to make the back look as shitty as possible, cuz let's be honest i don't think he would cut his hair properly... (this btw was completely taken from the amazing headcanon comic made by v3ratrix, i really liked the idea so i wanted to include on my own drawings aswell! thanks v3ratrix!) -i like to make kel's hair curly cuz.. i like him with curly hair, and since him and hero are brothers, i made hero with a bit of curly hair aswell! they also have opposite moles from each other :)

-Since i have no idea wtf happend for Aubrey's eyes to turn blue, i like to imagine that she has to use glasses but uses contacts most of the time

-I like to think Kel and Hero are hispanic, and Mari and Sunny japanese american ! (cuz it fits them and also KEL AND HERO SPEAKING SPANISH SUPREMACY!!) -Basil learns portuguese later on because he thinks it's funny that his name sounds like Brazil (ofc i'm going to have a self indulgent headcanon his name is literally perfect for it!) THIS IS IT FOR ALL OF MY HEADCANONS :D tysm for reading until the end, i appreciate people liking my ideas and i hope i can make proper pieces in the future, for now i'm procastinating on projects and drawings in general PLEASE make sure to check out both v3ratrix comic and zipsunz artwork that were mentioned in this post, they're very good and i don't want to take credit from stuff that i got from them alright buh bye !

[abbloke]

Out of town mission - Part 3

Mentioning this again: This is an ask blog!!

U can ask stuff in here just want to say it again just in case the part 1 explanation wasn't seen or noticed XPP

I will have to adjust things but I hope that's alright!

OOTM: Part 1

OOTM: Part 2

Well thats all! I will post about this comic maybe daily or every other day as to take a break! Thank you for reading this and I hope you have a nice day and stay safe!! Buh-bye!! :D

Also if you still don't know who this new character is.. Well then I guess you'll just have to find out soon >:]]

[rafesproactiveprettygirl]

Chapter 1: First day || “I don’t see a future with you.” Series ||

Warnings: Cussing, implied inappropriate jokes, mentions of drugs and smoking, theres going to be a lot of switching between like 1st person pov and 3rd person

Summary: Y/Ns first day meeting the Millers, if all goes well she’ll get the job!

A/N: This isn’t proof read because i couldn’t be bothered lmao, none of my works are so if you see any mistakes i’m very sorry😭

Y/N steps out of Tommy’s truck and gazes at the beautiful house before them. It had an orange color brick base, white gutters, white roof, white garage and with windows. Tommy glanced at Y/N, smiling at her awe. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” Y/N bit her lip. “It’s beautiful.” She reached into the car and grabbed her bag. She looked at Tommy and gave a polite smile. “Thank you for the ride.”

“No problem sweetheart.” Tommy smiled with a nod. “Don’t worry about Joel by the way. If he scares ya” Tommy let out a chuckle. “He has the worst bitch face you can imagine, and he’s just grumpy most the time. But Sara is a ray of sunshine. She’ll love ya.” He beamed. Y/N let out a soft laugh. “Thank you again for this Tommy, you don’t know how much this helps.”

He shrugged, “It’s no problem, really. Your dads a good friend of mine, and i’ve practically watched you grow up. Your a good kid, kiddo.” He said softly looking at his watch. “Now I’ve got to go, but you behave now alright?” You giggled, “Yes sir. You’ll be around for dinner right?”

“Sure will.”

“Okay, bye Tommy!”

“Buh-bye now.” He joked as he rolled up his window and pulled out of the driveway. Y/N turned to face the house and walked up the driveway to the front door. She knocked on it several times and heard a soft yell of “I got it! Sit down, your going to hurt your back.” And the in a yell of a manlier voice, “Shut the hell up and get the door.” You heard footsteps thumping hardly down the stairs and tapped your foot on the ground.

The door opened and you saw a pair of big brown eyes and brown curly hair. “Hi!” She chirped reaching out to shake your hand, which you did. “I’m Sara.” You smiled kindly and nodded. “Hi Sara, i’m Y/N, your baby-“

“Actually is it okay if we don’t call you my babysitter? It makes me feel like child.” Sara groaned. Sara turned when she felt two big hands grabbing her shoulder and you look up to see an older man with a stubby beard, fluffy brown hair, in a blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He was attractive, you couldn’t deny it.

“That’s because you are a child.” He joke as he shook Sara. He looked at you, and damn was Tommy right about the bitch face. He gave you a soft smile, to which you felt your heart flutter. He sure did look pretty when he smiled. “Hi,” He started, reaching out for Y/N’s hand, to which she accepted. “Nice to meet you. I’m Joel, Tommy’s brother.”

“Yeah and most annoying dad ever.” Sara mumbled and rolled her eyes. You laughed at the two and looked back at Joel. “Nice to meet you Mr. Miller, I’m Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sorry where are my manners? Would you like to come inside?”

“The pleasure is mine. And no worries, yes I would.” He smiled and pushed Sara back. “She groaned “ouch” and plopped herself on the brown leather couch in what you assumed was the living room. Joel stepped inside and you stepped inside looking around. You followed over to Sara who asked you to sit next to her and started ranting about whatever romcom she was watching. You set your back down gently on the floor and laughed at the jokes she made about the movie.

“Would you like something to eat? Drink?” Joel asked rubbing his hands together. “Water is fine.” You responded, too focused on the jokes Sara was telling that made your stomach hurt from laughing. She was a natural comedian. You swore you were going to piss yourself. He nodded and jogged into the kitchen to pour you a glass.

“So what do you do for fun?” Sara asked. You bit your lip deep in thought. “Paint, read, poetry, pottery-“

“Pottery?! That’s so cool!! I’ve always wanted to try pottery.” She interrupted. You chuckled, “One day I can bring my pottery set if you’d like.” She nodded and went back to watching her show. Joel came black with two classes, he handed one to you and one to Sara. You took some small sips while Sara chugged the whole think and started choking. Joel mumbled “idiot” under his breathe and went to pat her back.

“Slow down speed racer.” You laughed. “She’s never the type to take it slow. Always needs some excitement.” Joel implied. “Always have always will.” Sara shrugged and leaned back to sleep on Joel. He grabbed the remote, tossing it to you. “Turn on whatever you’d like. Once this one goes to sleep we can talk.” You nodded and swallowed nervously, you’d completely forgot you had an interview before you had the job.

You turned to the TV and clicked through the channel and settled in the news. Not that you cared, but you assumed someone like Joel might be interest.

The TV broadcaster started speaking. “There has been rumors of an uncontrollable virus. Scientists say it’s highly possible considering if humans body temperature were to ever drop. Studies say they will.”

Joel scoffed. “I swear they lie for more money. This channel is bullshit. They do something like this every week.” You nodded and clicked the button on the remote to turn it off. You turned to see Sara fast asleep, a little bit of drool cornering her mouth. You smiled as Joel grabbed her bridal style and carried upstairs. “Would you like some help?” You called out when you heard slight pants.

“N,-no” pant. “No thank you.” pant.

You giggled quietly and waited for him to come back down stairs. You assumed Sara had woken up because you heard faint whispers and Joel stayed up there just a little longer. Finally he came back down and took a seat next to you, you slid your now empty class to the center of the table and turned to face Joel as he rested his hands behind his head and his head on the back of the sofa.

“So how much experience do you have workin’ with children?” He asked, eye close. You shrugged, forgetting he can’t see you. “A good amount. I use to babysit my cousins for money when I turned 16. I’ve babysit some kids in my neighborhood before, took them to the pool, the movies, made them dinner.”

“Seems like you know what your doing. Your hired.” Shock took over you. Just like that? No other questions.

“What? Already? Don’t you want to ask if i’ve ever smoked weed or done hard drugs? Don’t you want to ask if I text and drive?” He chuckled and opened one eye to look at you. “You don’t look like the type, sweet pea. Hate to break it to ya’. Pretty little thing like you? Could never smoke.”

“Hey!” You through your hands up in defense. “I’ve smoked before. With my dad and group of friends.” He shrugged. “Won’t believe it till I see it.”

“Yeah whatever.” You huffed, causing a smirk to appear on his face. He checked his watch. “We have an hour till Tommy gets home, what do you say we start on dinner?”

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Also, if you feel up to it, would be willing to write a friendship scene between Midge and Shy? I was rewatching some scene clips from season 4 and I hate how Midge and Shy ended things. I love the way you write their friendship

(I love Shy and Midge!)

Hello, Sunshine, August, 1964

The gift basket shows up the day after she gets home from the hospital, and at first, Midge is terrified it might be from Sophie Lennon, but upon reading the card, she smiles widely.

"Lenny?" she calls turning from the doorway, knowing she can't lift it so soon after giving birth. "Can you help, please?"

He steps over quickly, looking curious, and stops once he sees the ornate gift basket. "Where did this come from?" he asks with a chuckle, lifting the basket.

"Shy," Midge smiles, and follows him away from the door and to the living room, sitting on the couch next to Lily's little bassinet. She's only been home from the hospital for a day, and she's gotten flowers from Gordon and Neena, and a very fancy breast pump from Carly. Bonnie and Jeff sent them a little stuffed surfboard.

Lenny sets it down and unwraps the basket carefully, pulling out an expensive-looking mohair teddy bear, as well as the card. "'For my beautiful new niece, and the funniest lady I know.'"

Midge beams and reaches for the phone, dialing Shy quickly.

"Hello?"

"You did not have to send so many things," Midge scolds him lightly.

"Please, of course I did. You just pushed an entire human out of your body, and now you have to somehow take care of it. It's not like I don't have the funds, so I decided to spoil you two a little."

"Thank you, the bear is gorgeous," Midge gushes.

"He sent you a foot soak," Lenny informs her.

Midge gasps softly. "You sent me a foot soak?"

"And very fancy chocolates," Shy adds.

"I'm supposed to be losing the baby weight, you know," she warns him jokingly.

"No, you're supposed to be relaxing and taking care of your newborn," Shy argues. "You can lose the weight later."

Midge sighs softly. "When are you coming to meet your new niece?" she asks. "Because you know you're her godfather."

"Lord help Lily," Shy chuckles. "I have a few shows in Chicago, so I'll be flying there tonight, and I'll be back at the end of the week."

"Well, tits up," she tells him. "We'll see you when you get back to town."

"I'm looking forward to snuggling my little goddaughter," Shy grins. "Are you feeling alright? Are you and Lenny getting any sleep?"

"God, she's such a good baby," Midge tells him. "The feeding schedule is rough, but she's so calm."

"You're sure she's yours?" Shy teases. "You're sure she's Lenny's?"

"Haha," Midge grumps and then laughs. "Knock 'em dead, Shy."

"Give Lily a kiss for me."

"I promise. And thank you, again."

"Enjoy the face cream. It's two hundred dollars a jar."

"Shy, Jesus!"

"Buh-bye!"

With that, he hangs up, and Midge laughs.

Lenny slowly pulls an expensive-looking crystal mobile out of the basket. "Okay. So. We're going to have a very spoiled daughter."

Midge smiles and leans down, kissing Lily's forehead. "From Uncle Shy."

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Moon Rocks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason accidentally reunites his mother with an old friend after being caught shoplifting.

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Natalia Knight

Relationship(s): Natalia Knight/Catherine Todd

Additional Tags: No Capes AU, No Powers AU, Angst and Fluff, Old Flames, Romance

Chapter Nine: Honest Mistake

For the next few weeks, Jason couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned and woke up gasping for air as if he were drowning. It was the same nightmare over and over again. He tried to keep the dreams to himself, but he could only hide his fears for so long. One night, in particular, he didn't wake up as quickly as expected, and Natalia came into his room to wake him. He threw his arms around her, and she rubbed his back until he calmed down. "You alright?" Natalia asked. Jason shook his head. His hands shook, and he could barely catch his breath. It felt like he was still there. "You're here with me, and you're okay. Jason, it was just a dream." He swallowed hard and nodded. "I wasn't going to ask, but I can tell that you haven't had a good night of sleep since you found out about your uncle." Jason chewed his lip. "That's because I found him, and he's coming to visit Mom, and I haven't told her or you—." "Jason, no. Please say that you're joking," Natalia took a deep breath, "Next week?" Jason shook his head. "Tomorrow? Jason, no. I understand you meant well, but that is—." She stopped talking when she saw the look on his face. "You've got such a big heart." She hugged him in an attempt to make him feel better. "I should tell him not to come... Shouldn't I?" Jason asked. Natalia shook her head. "No, listen, that's not for you to worry about now... But, I think we should at least tell Kitty he might show up," Natalia whispered, "Go back to bed, alright?" "Are you going back upstairs?" Jason asked. Natalia looked him in the eyes and shook her head. She could tell he was still frightened. "Actually, do you mind if I read to you?" Natalia asked as she walked over to the bookcase and picked out a book. Jason moved over so she could sit next to him. She turned the light on at the dimmest setting, and she sat next to Jason on his bed. Her reading voice was soft, and it wasn't long before Jason lay fast asleep next to her. She would've gotten up, but he threw his arm over her lap, and she couldn't bear to wake him. Natalia slept next to Jason until the phone rang early in the morning. Jason got up first, climbing over the foot of the bed to get out, and he answered. "Good morning," Jason whispered, still half asleep. "Good morning. Is this Natalia Knight's phone? This is Bruce Wayne," Bruce asked. "Yes, sir. Can I take a message? I'm her friend's son," Jason answered him before yawning. "Sorry." "It's alright. I know it's early... Can you tell Miss Knight that I would like her to attend the spring gala next weekend?" Bruce asked. "Well, that's kind of complicated, Mr. Wayne," Jason whispered. He scratched his head. "You see, my mom's sick, and she's gonna be out of the hospital this weekend if everything goes well... And you see—." "Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry. I hope that your mother has a speedy recovery," Bruce whispered. Jason thanked him, and Natalia came and took her phone. "It's Bruce Wayne," Jason whispered. Natalia smiled and gestured for him to get ready for school. Jason kissed Natalia on the cheek, and she smiled at him. He got ready for school, and Natalia made him a bagel. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Wayne," Natalia whispered, "Yes, I think so too. You should talk to him when he's fully awake... Thank you, buh-bye." "What he say?" Jason asked. Natalia sat across from him and ate the other half of his bagel. "He said you were a charming young man," Natalia whispered, "And he offered me two extra tickets to the gala just in case Kitty felt up to going." "He's still gonna make you go?" Jason asked. Natalia shook her head and checked the time. "Are we late?" "No, not yet. I'm sorry about breakfast. I'll give you money to get something at school if you're still hungry," Natalia replied. Jason nodded. "And about your uncle, did he give you a number?"

Jason took her phone and put the number in. "Are you mad at me?" Jason asked. Natalia shook her head. "I'm not mad at you... But please don't talk to any more strangers on the internet. Go put on your shoes, and we'll talk to him in the car," Natalia whispered as she kissed the top of his head and sent him off. She put the dishes in the sink and followed him outside. She called the number Jason gave her and put the phone on speaker before starting the car. "Hello?" a man answered. "Uncle Eddie?" Jason asked. "Oh, hey Champ!" Eddie exclaimed. "How's my favorite nephew?" Jason chuckled. "I'm your only nephew," Jason smiled, "This is Nat Knight's phone. I'm on my way to school." "Hi, Eddie," Natalia greeted him. "You're thinking I shouldn't come, huh?" Eddie asked. "I don't wanna upset Kit. I can wait until she's better to see her. I was hoping that maybe I could still come and see Jason before you go pick her up?" Jason looked at Natalia. She smiled solemnly and nodded. "That's fine. You can come and see him whenever you're in town... And, I don't think it's a bad idea for you to see Kitty. I just want to talk to her first and see how she'd feel about it. Jason really wants to know you, and I don't think she'd object to that at all," Natalia answered. Jason looked through his backpack for his homework. "Well, if it's okay, I'd like to come down tomorrow afternoon and see Jason. I know it's short notice, but—." "Actually, that would be nice. I'll text you the address," Natalia replied. "Thank you, Miss Knight," Eddie replied, "See you soon, kiddo." "Bye, Uncle Eddie," Jason replied, and he hung up. "Nat, you really meant it?" Natalia nodded. "Thanks." "Yes, I do... And I'll call your mom and explain things to her, so you don't have to, okay?" Natalia whispered as she rustled life into his curls. "And please eat a big lunch. I promise I'll get you something to eat after school, but I don't want you—." "Okay, Mom—." Jason knit his brows together and turned his head. "I meant—." "I know, Jason, look—." Jason opened the door and got out of the car. "Love you—." Jason facepalmed and before Natalia could say anything, he ran off to class. Natalia sighed and pressed her forehead against her steering wheel before driving off to work.

[rainidaz3]

Blue Shadows in Wonderland

Chapter 2 - The Locket

Juniper had never been the brightest of Caeracaprae, but he did know his way around Wonderland by now. He couldn’t understand is why Jasione always yelled at him for leaving the village, but at this point, he didn’t give two shits!

So he left again. He left to go find his friend!

“Insomnia?! Insomnia, where are you?! If Boom or Jasione finds out I’m gone, I’ll be toast, so I gotta hurry!”

He saw their smile first, before the grinning cat fully emerged on a branch. “Hi Juni! Whatcha doin’ out here? Here to check on me or here to tell me about the kingdom?”

Juniper frowned, ears flicking back. “Both, and I also brought a… locket?” He held up the shiny locket he’d stolen. “I figured that if anyone could decipher what it means, it’s you.”

The cat took the locket in his claws, ears pinning as he studied it. He opened it, eyes widening just a little when he saw the inside, his smile widening as well. “Juniper. Where’d you get this?! This belongs to a human!”

“A human?”

“Yes! The name on the locket is…”

Insomnia went silent as he read it, tail flicking.

“Alice. Though the name is in purple—almost a lavender color.”

“Oh… I gotta get back home, okay? And also, I left some unset explosives for you.”

The hairless cat grinned, tossing the locket back to Juniper, who had to jump to catch it. “Alright! Thanks, Juniper Tree!”

“Of course, sleepless bitch! Bye!”

“Buh bye!!”

As the cat fizzled out of existence, probably to go grab the explosives, Juniper set his sights on returning home, shoving the locket in his pocket.

There’s no telling what made him ask Insomnia about it, or who was listening, but someone was…

@xxmoonduskxx

[abihastastybeans]

JILY CHALLENGE | JULY 2022 | @jilychallenge

Theme: Summer🌤️

Title: Summer sun, something's begun.

A Muggle AU, Camping fic. Lily (and others) have the best summer of their lifetime at Camp Hogs. 2.7K words.

Note:

1. This is my first ever fic. I had SO MUCH FUN writing this chapter and would very much love to continue the story!

2. My ao3 account's not been approved. I'll upload the fic once it's done :p

3. I haven't used my prompt yet. It'll come up in further chapters. (Oops)

4. Sweet thanks to @annabtg for beta reading! :D

~Chapter 1~

"That's it?"

"That's it"

"But Lily, that's only one bag!"

"Mum, I'm not lugging along entire suitcases for a few days' stay."

"But what if you need extra things?"

"I'll manage, Mum, you know me; don't be like Dad"

Lily definitely didn't want her mum to be like her dad. And that's because if it weren't for her mum's persuasion, her dad wouldn't have agreed to send her to Camp Hogs. And she really wanted to go.

Bob Evans was of the opinion that no self-respecting man would send his dear daughter away for two weeks to a summer camp that was named 'Camp Hogs'.

But it was one of the only ways through which Lily could form some semblance of a friendship before her results came and she had to work or search for colleges. It wasn't that she didn't have friends or didn't try. When she was little, she had a best friend and they were very close until they had a huge fight and she never saw him again. She then tried to be friends with her sister (pathetic, yes) but eventually they grew apart.

When Petunia finished schooling, she made it very clear that she didn't want to go to any camps ("Camp Hogs, pfffft - they probably have people clean farm animals") so it was understandable that Mr. Evans was quite shocked to know that Lily wanted to go.

Lily also knew that her dad was wary about possible boyfriends but he didn't say anything out loud.

So it was with much coaxing from Mary Evans and many more puppy dog looks from Lily that Bob eventually agreed.

Mary hugged her daughter. "Take care and eat well. If you get hurt, call us and we will come pick you up."

"I will, Mum," Lily responded and kissed her cheek. "Buh bye."

Lily hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder and went out their front door to find her dad sitting inside the car in front of the wheel, hands under his chin. Lily waved to her mum and settled on the shotgun seat.

"You know," Bob said without lifting his head, "you could still say no and not go."

"No, Dad," Lily sighed.

He heaved a big sigh and looked at her bag. "Is that it?" he asked.

"Yup," Lily popped her lips.

"Alright then." He started the engine.

The ride to the Gryfftow bridge was quite pleasant. Lily thought that her dad would be grumpy and she'd be forced to sit silent, but he put on the 80's hits playlist that Lily helped him make and they sang happily all the way along. They were grinning when they got off at the start of the bridge, where the campers were supposed to be dropped off to take a small walk to the main site by themselves.

"Come here." Bob opened his arms and Lily went in for the hug. "Be safe, will you? Don't go anywhere alone. Don't try any of that Ouija board madness that you did in middle school."

Lily laughed. "Alright, dad. No ghosts." With a thoughtful look she added, "Though it was excellent to see Tuney's face. Tell her I said bye, though she won't care..."

Her dad tsked. "Hmm, don't think about that. Have fun. That's why you wanted to come, yeah?" He kissed her forehead.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"And remember - boys have cooties."

Ooh he said it.

"Dad!" she giggled. "Come on, I'm a big girl, ain't I? I'll take care of myself."

"I know." His eyes twinkled. "Bye bug." He got in his car and started to go back the way they had come.

"Bye Dad," Lily whispered, ignoring the sudden tears springing up in her eyes.

Why was she tearing up? It wasn't as if she didn't want to be here. In fact, she really wanted to be here.

She looked around and saw a handful of people about her age. A few were saying goodbyes to their parents and some more were walking across the bridge towards the woods on the other side. A few girls were cherishing the last few moments they'd be allowed to have with their mobiles and were taking pictures of each other.

Lily smiled to herself and started to walk along the bridge.

The site was simply beautiful. Muddy water was creeping under the bridge. Surrounding branches swayed slightly in the summer breeze. Lily reached the end of the bridge and continued into a path made through the forest. About a hundred steps later, she entered an opening where around fifty people were gathered.

She found a patch of land away from the bigger groups and stood, bouncing on her feet.

This was it. She was at Camp Hogs. She was here and she was going to make new friends and she was going to have a great time.

She glanced at her watch. It was 10.50 am. The Camp would officially open in just ten minutes!

She lifted her head and let her eyes dart around – and she saw it.

A wild mop of black hair.

And right at the moment she saw it, the head turned. It had a face.

Her breath left her lungs and she was vaguely aware of her jaw dropping open.

Then he looked. Right at her. And his eyes grew comically wide.

He slowly turned and a more comical grin bloomed across his face. He made his way towards her, his steps slow, looking at her as if she was a miracle.

"Lily?"

She couldn't believe her own freaking eyes. She was beaming. "...James?"

And then she was hit by a whole tone scale and a string of memories came flashing in her mind.

--------------------

Lily Evans felt really proud of herself. Her sister kept taunting her, and telling her horrible stories but Lily knew that they were all lies. She was going to prove that Tuney was wrong and Lily would have a great first day at grade school!

She stood beside her desk and puffed out her cheeks repeatedly, thinking about all the exciting things she was going to do that day, when a black haired boy walked over and spoke to her.

"Hello!"

"Hello," Lily responded, "my name is Lily!"

The boy stuck out his hand and shook hers. "I'm James! Nice to meet you, Lily," he smiled. "Hello James." She gestured behind her. "You can sit with me if you want. We can be friends."

The boy beamed wide and Lily saw that a few teeth were missing. "Thanks!"

~~~~~

Their teacher asked all of them to introduce themselves and James bravely spoke for a few minutes, but was ushered to his seat before he finished speaking. He sat down, disappointed that he didn't get to say everything about himself when he felt a tug on his shirt.

"Hey James, you can tell me about yourself afterwards. Don't be sad," Lily whispered.

James smiled and that was what they did in their lunch break. They finished their lunch quickly and talked and talked and talked and by the end of the day, James got to know many things about Lily too.

"Whoaa you have a sister?" James asked, surprised.

"Yes! But she's always lying to me or trying to scare me. But it doesn't work at all," Lily replied.

James nodded. "Lying is bad. My mum doesn't like it when people lie. But you know what? Everyone in my home is a grown up except me! And they are very boring sometimes…"

Lily laughed.

When their day was over and everybody came out to find their parents, James, spotting his mum, grabbed Lily's hand and started running. "Lily come on, come on! I'll show you to my mum!"

~~~~~

As the days went by, Lily and James became best friends. They read together, drew together and did everything together.

One morning, Lily went to the bathroom at break and came back with wide eyes.

"James, look! I slipped and fell on the floor and my tooth broke!"

James had told Lily all about teeth. He knew what happened when your tooth fell and knew how to get them to grow back. He took one look at her hand and dragged her out to the grounds. "Lily come on, we need to bury it! Quick!"

But then Miss Parker caught them and Lily had to explain to her that if they didn't bury the tooth and let it grow as a tree, Lily would always have a gap tooth. Miss Parker laughed and promised them that she'd take care of everything. She then took the tooth from them and sent them to their class.

"I don't trust her, I think she is going to get extra teeth for herself." James mumbled on their way back.

~~~~~

"Lily, look, I got glasses!"

"Why do you need glasses?"

"So I can see everything clearly."

"Oh. Well, they don't look that nice on you…"

"What? My dad said that I looked very handsome!"

"I think he lied."

~~~~~

James had not seen many people with red hair before. The first person with red hair he ever became friends with was Lily. And he loved how it looked.

"Hey Lily?"

"Hmmhmm?"

"I really like your hair. It looks so pretty."

"Thanks, James!"

James loved the red hair so much that he wanted everybody to look as pretty as Lily. So he asked his mother to change her black hair to red.

But she started laughing.

"But Muuumm, you will look even more pretty! Have you seen how pretty Lily is? You'll look so pretty like her too."

"Oh but Jamie," his mum ruffled his hair, "I'm old! I don't want to dye my hair now. Do I not look pretty like this?"

"No, no, you already look so pretty," James replied hurriedly.

The next day at school, James told Lily about it.

"My mum says she can't dye her hair red because she is old," he grumbled.

"Oh."

"Hmm…"

"Hey James?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not old…"

The Potters and Evans were called to come up to their school to talk with Miss Parker because Lily and James had tried to paint James' hair with poster colours.

James was not the least bit bothered because his mum just couldn't stop laughing, even for a moment. He knew he wasn't in trouble. Mrs Evans was apologising on behalf of Lily and his mum kept saying that everything was fine.

All he could think about was that Lily's dad had red hair just like her.

"Hey Mr. Evans," James approached him where he stood holding Lily's sticky hands (the paint didn't come off fully. James still had red patches on his hair.). "Your hair is so pretty."

Lily's dad blinked. Then he crouched down to his level and patted him on the shoulders. "Why, thank you James! I heard you are a really good friend to Lily!"

James swelled with pride. "Thank you! Lily is my best friend too." He grinned at Lily and Lily returned his smile.

~~~~~

The fateful day came right after the Christmas holidays. Lily came to school to find that Miss Parker had assigned seats for them. She found that she had to sit beside Luke, and that James was supposed to sit a few seats in front of her.

When James came and found that the seating arrangements had been changed, he worriedly went and asked Lily to move so he could sit beside her.

"James no, Miss Parker will get mad," Lily stated.

"But Lily, then I have to sit four seats away from you!"

"I know James, just go sit there. We will get in trouble on the first day back…"

"Lily come on, move over a little bit, three of us can comfortably sit at this desk."

"No James, we can't." Lily insisted.

"Lilyyyyy!!" James whined.

Lily's voice dropped to a whisper. "Hey everybody's looking, just go."

As soon as she said that, James' eyes started tearing up and he scowled at her.

"Why did you do this?! Am I not your friend anymore?"

"Of course you are, why are you crying now?"

"Because you don't want to sit with me anymore!" James yelled and started to cry. "I hate you!"

At that very moment Miss Parker entered the class and made James sit in his new seat. Lily could see throughout the whole day that James didn't stop crying, but she couldn't do anything because Miss Parker didn't agree to change seats again. Before lunchtime, James became sick from crying and Miss Parker took him away to send him home. That was the last time she saw him.

It's not that he didn't come to school; it's that he never came back again. After three long days of his absence passed, her mum called her to the living room. She gently explained that James' dad got a job outside the city and that they'd moved away as a family.

Lily was so sad. She didn't even get to see James one last time.

--------------------

Until today.

She saw him again today.

She saw James at Camp Hogs of all places.

"Oh my god it's really you!" James exclaimed and caught her in a bear hug. Lily, not able to control her happiness, hugged him just as tight and caught a wisp of fresh roses.

He released her, and Lily got a clear look at him.

He was a good head taller than her but had the same messy black hair he did when he was a kid. He wore a red T-shirt and jeans and carried a camping bag on his back. Lily found that she just couldn't help but laugh and after a brief moment James joined in too.

"Oi, idiot, you dropped this!"

They stopped laughing briefly and Lily looked over James' shoulder to see three boys walking towards them. The guy who spoke had shoulder length silky black hair which made Lily raise her eyebrows. He noticed her staring and asked, "What?" Lily shrugged and looked back at James; she realised that they were still holding hands. She dropped them quickly and rubbed her neck out of discomfort.

James cleared his throat and looked at the boys, "This is Lily Evans, guys. She was my best friend in first grade." He looked back at her and frowned, though his eyes were smiling, as if he still couldn't believe it himself. It was such an adorable look that it took Lily a moment to realise that she had been staring. She shook herself and waved to the three boys. "Hey guys."

"Hey," Long-hair repeated with a grin. "I'm Sirius." "Hello Sirius," Lily said with a smile.

The second guy, who had sandy brown hair, raised his hand in a high five and Lily returned the gesture with a laugh. "I'm Remus Lupin."

The other guy was shorter than Lily and he shook her hand. "Peter."

"Hello Peter. It's nice to meet you guys," Lily said and turned to look at James again. "It's nice to meet you again."

James inhaled quickly. His hand flew up to ruffle his hair. "Likewise. Lily. Did you come here to attend Camp Hogs as well?"

"No, she's here to hunt rabbits. Why the hell else would she be here?" Sirius countered and James shot an annoyed look at him.

"Yes I came to attend the Camp." Lily interjected. "But why are you here? I thought you'd left the city long ago?" With a frown, her mind returned to one of the worst days of her childhood. James seemed to be thinking the same and winced slightly. "We did. We came back here just a month ago. Because we wanted to come to Camp Hogs." He gestured at his friends.

Sirius took the chance to throw a plastic bag to James. "You dropped this," he said and turned to Lily. "Are you here with anyone?"

"Uh no, actually." Lily rubbed her neck again. "I'm here alone. Y'know, just to have a good time, make new friends."

"Well, you could hang out with us if you want!" Remus offered.

"Yeah absolutely! You'll definitely have a great time," James added while securing the plastic bag under his arm.

"That's very nice of you guys! Thanks!"

Lily beamed at all of them. A great summer was awaiting her.

[kthynes]

baby me

pairing: chris evans x female reader

request: Can you pls write something about Chris sick with some kind of stomach bug and fever and doesn’t want the reader to help him because he’s embarrassed but then he throw up and almost faint so the reader comes to the rescue and help him, and then cuddles? Thank you!!❤️ - anon

warnings: none, this is pretty pg

a/n: I wrote this one shot a little differently, it’s way less wordy and descriptive (imo). I’m trying to be more ‘to the point’ with my writing ahh we shall see how it goes. Otherwise please enjoy this little gem, thanks for the request, anon!

“What do you mean you can’t have it done? Oh, c’mon Tony that’s not what I— Alright okay, you know what, sure, whatever, do that then.”

You’re annoyed. You’re frustrated. You rummage through your oversized purse for the house keys that Chris has graciously lent you yet you somehow manage to misplace in the silk sheath of lining, receipts and a whole slew of miscellany.

Your one track life becomes an undisputed conundrum of work which never fails to follow you home even on a somewhat good day. Tony, the wrought-up site manager, says something the minute you tune out which allows to spiral right back in. Sometimes you bark. And sometimes you bite.

“Right but the unit division budget doesn’t have anything going forward in respect to that notion! You know this!” You boisterously tell your colleague after jiggling the door open and tossing the keys on top of the nearby console. The house is quiet, and your voice is the loudest carrying tremor that pulls Chris out of his lulling state. “No, no you are not fucking negotiating with Kingsley alright. That isn’t apart of the deal, Tone! Jesus.”

Your call consumes you just until you see your deadbeat partner sprawled up on the couch, sallow and sick. His dry lips are agape, breathing is staggered, little to no life is present in his form. His beautiful mutt looks to you from his side, tail slightly wagging and that is enough to have your heart torn out.

“Hey, hey Tony, can I call you back later? O-Oh sure, okay yeah that’s fine. Okay, alright buh-bye.” You frantically end the call, furrowing your brows as you take long, leaping strides towards Chris who is finally relieved to see you in all of your concerned beauty.

“Everything okay baby?” He croaks like a dying horse, eyes closing as his stomach lurches some more.

“You’re asking me? Goodness Chris, you look terrible.” You cradle the side of his balmy face while crouched in front of him. You are frightened with worry as he kisses the inside of your palm in return. The sweet action itself makes you wince as you scan his sunken and unpropitious features.

Chris is at his worst. You knew he was feeling a bit under the weather but didn't think once that it'd be this bad. He's severely impaled, sweating up a storm yet swathed in his favorite velour duvet. The TV is fuzzily broadcasting C-Span while Chris’s laptop is flipped open with a flood of emails that he wasn’t able to get around to. There’s a half eaten loaf bread and an open sleeve of crackers that doesn’t pass his appetite. While looking around, you casually pet Dodger with one free hand who also seems to be happy to see his momma around and readily waiting for you to do something.

“I don’t know what it is that I had last night at the launch party but it’s rocking my insides honey.” Chris groans after feeling another ripple go through his abdominal cavity.

“Aw baby you should’ve called me. I would’ve picked up some Pedialyte and left work early.” You reach over to turn off the TV and close the laptop.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

"Too late for that, hon." You fearfully laugh while getting back to him and running a hand through the top of his head down to the nape of his neck. "Now c'mon lets get you in bed first and then I can make you some light dinner."

"I'm fine." Chris hums, loving the way your hands felt against the shaft of his scalp. "You just came home from work, you're probably really tired — go shower and get changed. I'm good right here."

"Don't be stupid, Evans. I can do all that later, now up." After some reluctant attempts you manage to get Chris up who for the most part can stand on his own two feet. Dodger barks his cautionary welcome as you and Chris trudge across the threshold of the single storey home together. You both enter his unmade room and that’s when Chris freezes in mid-stride. He has an uneasy feeling wash over him and everything becomes a jolting sprint of madness.

"Oh no babe I think I might—“ Upchuck. Chunks of indistinguishable remnants of undigested food and bile all came down on your frame as you stood in the line of fire. It’s fleeting and there wasn’t much you could do as you wore his vomit, letting it weigh down the front of your seersucker blouse and skirt.

"Fuuuuck." He panics and you exhale shakily with your arms spread apart, studying the wet projectile painting that amasses your body.

"It's fine. It’s okay." You say while trying to remain sympathetic and undeterred by throwing up yourself because the smell was impalpable. You imprudently gag while guiding Chris back to the bed. "How about you lie down and I’ll just —Chris? Chris!"

Chris's eyes gradually roll back, his body swings forward the minute he sits on the edge of the mattress and with your fast reflexes you manage to catch him against you. He's practically deadweight, passed out and that scares you.

"Oh god Chris babe? Baby, hey, hey..." You shake him a little as his face is caught in the crook of your neck, body rigidly leaned up against yours. He moans a little, regaining consciousness in a matter of seconds and calming your increased heart-rate that still continues to thunder. He was truly going through the motions.

"You alright?" You breathe, placing a hand on his cheek and forcing him to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I'm so sorry, baby I...I..." He's a bit frazzled as you hush, pacify and hold him close to your form. He breathes you in as you strip off your soiled blouse and skirt. He’s hunched over when you start to peel off the black tee he has on that is smeared with vomit as well, leaving him bare chested in your embrace. You are crouching in front of him, his forehead against you shoulder while your hands were rubbing his back and soothing him. You could hear the low indigestible rumbles coming from his belly knowing how bad he’s been having it on both ends. “Oh I feel terrible Y/N.”

“I know. How about you get in the shower with me." You whisper in a non-sexual way as his body is burning up and the sour smell of regurgitation still lingered around your bodies. He softly nods and with some consuming seconds later, you walk him into the ensuite.

After you both wash up in the shower, you pass Chris some fresh clothes to change into while you travelled across the room in nothing but a towel for the past 10 minutes or so, making sure Chris was able to get himself sorted out first before you stepped away to get changed.

With dinner on your mind, you start thinking to yourself how you can't leave Chris alone in this state. You have an idea and that’s when you text Scott to bring up some dinner so that way you could spend some time holding Chris and making sure that he was okay.

Scott at 7:45 pm:

'On it baby cakes. Ma knows, she's making his favorite chicken noodle with lots of cayenne, ginger and all the good stuff. So you just stay put alright?’

You smile after reading the immediate response from Chris’s sweet brother. While you continue lathering yourself up in lotion you could hear Chris dozing off on the bed. You turn off the bathroom lights and leave to start up a load of laundry before sneaking back into bed with him. Chris stirs a bit before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer.

“I promise I won’t throw up on you again.”

“Only if you don’t have to.” You whisper jokingly while pressing your lips against the underside of his chin. He hums at this with his eyes closed, his hands graze your exposed skin as he’s trying to hold you as inhumanely close to him as possible. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Scott’s going to be dropping off food so don’t go to sleep yet.” You state, drifting in apprehensive thought. Soon Dodger whimpers into the room and you pat the spot next to you for him to jump on. Chris has always been weary of having Dodger on the bed but because of extenuating circumstances you felt like his presence was also needed as well.

“That’s fine. Thanks again for everything.” He shuffles over after he sees Dodger crawling up and wedging himself in between the both of you. “Mmm hi bubba.”

“Anything for you mio amore.” You say, rubbing his soft belly and soothing the ache to the best of your ability.

“You know, you’re going to be an amazing mother some day Y/N.” Chris muses.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” Chris rebuts, drawing in a deep breath with his eyes closed. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You say in return, spending the rest of the evening in his wake before the entire Evans clan shows up at the front door, each worried silly about their pride and joy, leaving Chris to be theirs and having you watch from afar while they enforced their own tender love and care.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Only One I See

Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

Dunno if I’ll be doing an exhaustive drabble series but there’s at least this. Let me know if you’re enjoying it or not and any thoughts you have. Love you!

“Nothing going on,” Inez nudges you as she stands with her copy of Wuthering Heights, “you’re a terrible liar. And so is the professor.”

“What are you talking about?” You keep your voice low as you shove your book in your bag, “I wish you’d stop.”

“Oh, come on,” she looks around at the dozen other members who showed up that week. You felt a sense of relief at seeing so many, a feeling that mirrored Steve’s, no, Professor’s expression, “we’re sitting here arguing over sexy ghost man and he’s zooot!” She makes a pinch motion with all her fingers, “pinpointed, right on you.”

“N-no,” you sniff, “I didn’t… I didn’t even say much–”

“Exactly,” she hikes her messenger bag onto her shoulder as you zip your pink polka dot backpack, “you don’t have to say anything, little miss brownie.”

“Ew, no, no, he’s…” you glance over at Rogers, another student, Lulu, stands in front of him with her copy of Bronte open. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, tweaking a brow at you, “he’s our professor. He’s…” you step closer to her and hide your whisper behind your hand, “old.”

“Not that old,” she chirps, “come on. He’s what forty? Maybe a few years over, and he’s constantly surrounded by young girls– case and point.”

She tosses another look in his direction and you see how Ainsley leans on him and giggles. He seems slightly bothered as he lets out a deep breath and pats her hand as he coaxes her away, all the while he continues to make his point. You catch a few words, something about Catherine. 

“Look around you, sunshine, do you see a single male specimen here?”

“Well,” you pull the straps of your bags up your arms, “Dani is nonbinary so–”

“Yeah but they still like dick,” she giggles.

“Oh, god, why do you have to be so gross?”

“Please tell me you weren’t that one in high school? The prude? You’re cute, I’m sure at least one guy–”

“This is college,” you insist, trying to restrain your embarrassment, “I told you, and I don’t want to keep saying it, but I’m not interested in Professor Rogers.”

“Alright, alright,” she raises her hands defensively, “so how about–”

“Excuse me,” the deep tone undercuts her detour and you pout helplessly as you turn reluctantly to the professor. You hope he didn’t hear any of that, “before you go, I found this good app for these sort of things. Helps track your reading,” he explains as he holds out a clipboard, “I’m just getting phone numbers to add everyone to the group.”

“Oh, BookSnoop, yeah I’ve heard of that,” Inez says cheerily and sends you a guilty look, “uh, here, let me give you my number.”

She takes the clipboard first and scribbles down her number then hands it to you. You do the same and give it back, the brush of fingertips with the professor making you wince, “thanks, professor.”

“Of course, and… I had an idea. I was talking to management at Marge’s, I might be able to host one of these things there.”

“Oh, that’s so cool,” you say, “I might get a bit distracted by the sweets though.”

“Count us in,” Inez grumbles, “I hate these old classrooms. They smell like khaki.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Rogers appears slightly perplexed by her comment, “well, thanks for signing up,” he hugs the clipboard against one side of his chest, “and don’t forget about your book review next class.”

“Uh, how could we forget?” Inez chuckles nervously and grabs your elbow, “excuse us, professor, we’re late for, uh… a party.”

“Okay, er, um, be safe,” he backs away awkwardly, “see you in class.”

“Buh bye,” Inez toss over her shoulder as she urges you to the door and you barely squeeze through the door ahead of her, nearly crushing against her in the tight frame.

“What’s going on? A party?” You sputter as you plant your feet.

“Look, I totally forgot about the uh, book review, so how do you feel about an all-nighter?”

“In,” you exclaim, “are you kidding me?”

“Come on, I need you to keep me awake,” she whines, “pweez, pwetty pweez, I wuv you, you know that right?”

“Don’t do that,” you sneer, “fine, I’ll help you but I swear, next time, you’re on your own. You know, I have other classes. History papers I don’t want to write.”

“Well that’s convenient, because I haven’t done Laufeyson’s paper either,” she cackles, “it’s fate.”

📃

You rub your eyes and yawn over your cold coffee cup. Inez is barely awake, her head in her hand as she scrolls on her laptop. You feel like you’re looking in a mirror, so tired your head feels like a boulder.

You scratch out notes about the Communist Revolution in your notebook, trying to make sense of it all in your fatigue fuzzed mind. As you put your pen down to stretch your cramped fingers, the subtle clack of Inez’ keyboard tapping in the silent library, your phone buzzes. The noise is loud, jarring in the lull.

She’s unbothered as her lips move with the words she types. You wonder if she’s even typing words. You have class at noon so you might get a few hours before you have to weave your way back onto campus. You snatch up your phone and unlock it, leaning back dangerously in the heavily wooden chair.

‘Hope you got home safe’ the text reads, the number unfamiliar. 

You put the phone down, assuming it’s a wrong number. You trail your fingers over your brow as Inez chews her thumb.

“What another way to say therefore, I think I’ve typed that a thousand times,” she murmurs.

“Thus, and so, consequently…” you say as you phone vibes again.

‘You didn’t drink too much, did you?’

You scowl at the screen and thumb in your response lazily, ‘I think you have the wrong number’.

Three dots appear almost as soon as you hit send. ‘It’s Steve. Checking in. Making sure you’re okay. That’s all.’

For a moment, you’re confused. Then you remember jotting down your number on the board. 

You peek up at Inez, she’s swaying before her laptop. Should you tell her? No, she’d just tease you again. He’s just nice. Maybe a bit too concerned.

‘I’m fine, professor. Just going to sleep. Good night’. There, that’ll put an end to it.

��Sweet dreams’ he replies. You don’t answer but another message comes in. A pink heart. 

You lock the phone and sigh. You’re too tired. Besides, you know how older people are with emojis. Your mother kept sending the cry laugh emoji in very serious conversations.

“Inez,” you say gruffly, “let’s go. I need sleep.”

[obsidiancreates]

The Wrong Realization (But A Welcome One)

4,012 words long

-----------------------------

Jonah wakes up with a headache like he’s got a hangover. He groans, putting his arm over his eyes as the dim light of his bedroom tries to burn out his retinas. Even with all of his thickest curtains closed and fastened together, the sunlight is still too harsh. Must be the way it’s reflecting off the snow.

He falls out of bed more so than gets out of bed, and lays on the floor for a moment. He reaches up to his nightstand and manages to pull down his phone, which bonks him on the temple on it’s way down. That gets him to wake up, with a shout and a dash of fight-or-flight response.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t even feel very rested! Granted, he did stay up most of the night listening to a new podcast he discovered... fascinating stuff, wonderful deep-dives into mythologies and legends from all over the world. Something a little lighter to relax to than his usual political commentary go-tos.

He stands up, and scrolls through his playlist until he finds a good morning podcast. He heads into the bathroom, ready to grapple with his hair to get it nice and presentable-

He looks into the mirror and freezes up. His hair is perfect. Exactly how he always strives to get it to look, and always falls just one stray strand short of. But now? Not a flyaway in sight.

“I could have sworn I took a shower,” he mumbles to himself. Maybe he just forgot to use shampoo? No, he would never. Maybe too much conditioner, then. But he’s always so careful not to overuse...

“I guess it saves time,” he says aloud. “No looking a gift horse in the mouth.” He picks up his toothbrush and gets to scrubbing, but pauses when he feels something stringy in his mouth.

He spits out the toothpaste foam, expecting a hair.

Instead, it’s a scraping of plastic from his toothbrush, and several bristles.

He stares for a moment, and then opens his mouth. Does he have something completely alarming stuck in his teeth? Did he somehow eat something metal?

... No, not as far as he can see. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Absolutely nothing. Completely fine.

On an unrelated note, the two little cuts in his lower lip that are perfectly aligned with his canines are starting to sting from the mint, so he hurries up and finishes brushing his teeth.

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The sun blinds him as he drives to work, and he has to manage mostly by listening to the traffic around him (which is absurdly loud today, he can hear it with his windows rolled up).

And the sunlight is harsh on his skin, too. Does he need to invest in better sunscreen? Maybe he should revisit that article he read about SPF effectiveness and how to choose the best one...

He gets into the parking lot and parks his car. He opens the door, and promptly slams it shut again with a yelp. His hands didn’t just feel burnt, it did burn!

Definitely needs to up his SPF! And research sudden sunlight sensitivity... his hand is bright pink.

He sits in the car for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. And then there’s a knock on his window. He startles, but relaxes when he sees it’s just Glenn. He rolls his window down just a bit. “Um, hi. Good-good morning, I mean.”

“Heyyyy, Jonah,” Glenn says with a smile. “So, um, I noticed you’re stuck in your car?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, no, I just um. Well you see I-I, um-”

“Need a hand?” Glenn’s smile is a bit strained, for some reason. “Because of the sun?”

“... Well I mean if-if you’re offering then it would be... rude to say no...”

Glenn opens up an umbrella, making Jonah shout in surprise. “Where did that-”

“Come on in under the shade!”

Jonah hesitates a moment, put off by Glenn’s... odd, energy. But he can’t stay in his car forever, so he gets out and walks in with Glenn under the safety of the umbrella.

“Thanks,” he says when they get inside. “I just um, I need to update my sunscreen, you know? And I just didn’t want to risk... my skin...”

“No, no, I completely get it,” Glenn assures. “The warm, life-giving rays of the sun can be very harsh sometimes!”

“... Y-yeah. Yeah.”

“Hey, um, Jerusha and I got you a gift, actually. She was so upset by the whole attack thing yesterday-”

“Oh, you guys didn't have to get me something-”

“Well, we wanted to, so um, here!”

Glenn hands Jonah a very, very wide-brimmed hat. There’s a little bat needle-pointed onto the sides. 

“Oh! Wow! Um, it’s... so big!”

“Maybe it’ll help until you update your sunscreen?” Glenn sounds hopeful. Too hopeful for Jonah to turn down. And... it would be functional, at least...

“Yes! Yes, I think this’ll be great for that, um, thank you! Thank you both, send Jerusha my-my thanks. For this. I can um, see she put some effort into customizing it! Just-just out of curiosity... why a bat?”

“Oh, well um, because of your situation.”

“... Situation, I don’t-”

“You know. The reason you burned?”

“... I still don’t understand-”

“HEYYYY, GUYS!” Amy butts in quite enthusiastically. “How’s it going this morning?”

“Oh, good!” Glenn says with a smile and a nod. “I was just giving Jonah this hat Jerusha made for him, because of his whole condition about being a vam-”

“OH HEY, Glenn, I actually really need your help with something!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come over here, with me, to... softlines!”

“Oh, okay. I’ll talk with you later, Jonah!”

“Okay! Buh-”

Amy drags Glenn away, leaving Jonah with his hand up in an unfinished wave.

“... Bye. I-I was saying... bye.”

Jonah looks at the hat, and heads off to the breakroom.

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“So does Jonah have them?” Cheyenne is saying when Jonah enters the room.

“I mean, he looked like he did when he was chasing that lady-”

“Do I have what?”

Mateo and Cheyenne startle. “Oh, Jonah! We didn’t see you there! You were like... really, quiet,” Cheyenne says with a slightly strained smile.

“Yeah. So... sneaky.” Mateo looks similarly stressed.

“Well I, I did just get new ultra-soft shoes, very comfortable but I’m not sure about the long-term arch support... but um, what do I have?”

“Um... standards, for your fashion. Sometimes you have them, sometimes you don’t... usually only when you’re chasing, after... someone to flirt with.”

“Oh. ... You-you thought I was trying to flirt with that woman, last night?”

Cheyenne shrugs. “You did literally chase her into the parking lot.”

“I-I guess I did. But I wasn’t attracted to her I mean, I wasn’t attracted to any customers yesterday, even though there were a few good looking ones, that made me laugh... but-but I’m not- I mean, I wasn’t flirting with anyone-”

Jonah babbles on for a good five minutes before Glenn finally comes in and starts the meeting.

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Jonah sighs and rubs his eyes as he mops up a puddle of... it’s either slushie vomit or watered-down blood (though he’s leaning towards slushie vomit, something in him just says it definitely isn’t blood).

He leans against the mop and closes his eyes for a moment. So tired... he felt okay this morning, but as the day creeps on he feels less and less awake...

“Excuse me?”

Jonah startles, yelping and dropping the mop. The customer jumps back as the mop drops.

“I am so sorry!” Jonah exclaims. “I um, I-I think I feel asleep, um, how can I-”

Jonah pauses, at a loss for words.

The customer, a man around Jonah’s age, looks concerned. “You alright, man?”

“Huh?” Jonah’s face feels hot (the first bit of warmth he’s felt in two days). “Oh, um, I-I just, that was very unprofessional of me.”

The customer shrugs. “It’s a Cloud 9, professional isn’t really expected.”

Jonah chuckles. He clears his throat. “So, um, how can-can I help you?”

“I was looking for the recycled paper towels?”

“Oh, yeah, um... let me help you find those. They’re only half recycled, though.”

“I know. But you do what you can on a budget, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Jonah laughs. He can’t stop looking at the guy’s face... why does he feel all jittery?

“Um, here we are. The closest Cloud 9 gets to activism.” Jonah sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. His mouth feels dry. Why is his mouth so dry? He licks his lips quickly while the customer isn’t looking.

“Better than I’ve been doing lately. Haven’t done a protest in months.”

“What kind of protests do you go to?” Why did he say that? He’s going to embarrass himself, oh no-

“Mostly wage labor ones, workers rights kind of things. Trying to get a union going at my job.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, I know unions don’t have a great reputation in a lot of places but-”

“No! I mean uh, I love unions! I-I’ve been wanting one here since I started working! Just uh, don’t tell my boss that, hah.”

The customer smiles at Jonah, and Jonah wonders if the floor actually fell out from under him or if that’s all in his head.

“Well, thanks for helping me find this. Maybe we can talk about helping each other’s unions efforts if I see you again.”

“Yeah!” Jonah flashes a bright smile. “Sure! Sounds-sounds great! Um was really nice to meet you!”

The customer smiles again and walks away, and Jonah needs to lean against the isle.

He lets out a heavy breath, wondering what the hell is going on and what he is feeling. He looks down the isle to see if anyone is watching him.

Mateo, Cheyenne, Marcus, and Dina are all staring.

Jonah quickly walks away, shame burning his cheeks. So they noticed something, too.

“-looked like he was about to eat him alive-”

He’s too busy being completely embarrassed by hearing them whisper that to wonder how he just heard it from three isles away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah wakes up with a start as a cart rolls right over his leg. He shouts in pain and surprise, and then sighs at himself.

He peels the glue trap off of his face with a grimace. Cleaning the rat traps is a terrible time for his sudden and new case of what seems to be narcolepsy to strike. He sits up and rolls up his pant leg, expecting something nasty to greet him based on the crack he heard.

... Nothing. He frowns, and touches his leg. It doesn’t even sting.

“How did-”

“Jonah?”

Jonah looks up at Amy’s voice. She’s standing over him with a clipboard. “Oh, um... hi.”

“Hey. ... Why are you on the floor?”

“I was uh, cleaning the rat traps. And I... maybe fell asleep.”

“In the middle of the day?”

“... Yes...”

“Okay then. ... So um, I just... wanted to check in, for a minute. How’s it been going with customers?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean, have there been any... notable interactions, maybe, to throw an idea out there,” Amy says in her ‘I’m-hiding-the-real-reason-for-asking-this’ voice.

Jonah’s cheeks burn, and he’s sure he’s blushing. “They told you about that?”

“I... might’ve heard some gossip.”

“It-it was nothing, Amy. Really.”

“Are you sure? They said you keep looking at his neck-”

"Well I mean, he had a nice neck I-I guess but I was more looking at his face-”

“And that you licked your lips at him?”

“That-! My mouth was dry, and-and you know I hate chapped lips!”

“... And the hovering over him?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say hovering, more like just watching and... admiring... but that-that’s normal! I’ve been doing that since high school! A good ally normalizes these things, and-and when straight men, yeah, can admire other men in a-a completely! Normal way! Then it um, it helps... break down! The stereotypes!”

Amy looks... perplexed. She shakes her head. “Wait, what are we-”

“I mean, everyone does it, too! Like-like you! I’m sure you’ve looked at-at other woman, and admired their appearance, without feeling feelings for them, right?”

“Well, I guess, but- wait, Jonah, did you-”

“I mean we all wonder in college, right? But I don’t like, I mean there’s nothing wrong with liking both I just- I don’t, I wondered but I never-”

“Okay, um, this isn’t what I came over here to talk to you about-”

“Maybe there was a moment or two where I thought it might’ve been a thing but I-I never acted and if I did like both I would have acted on that, I think-”

“Okay! Um, you’re working through something right now, that is, not what I thought you were working through, so um, I’ll just check up on you later...”

Amy backs away as Jonah keeps recounting half-baked thoughts and unfinished sentences about his time in college and his roommates one friend who maybe had the best hair Jonah’s ever seen but their friendly hair-war was not flirting he swears...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah doesn’t chew the carrot, just rolls it in his teeth as he stares at the wall, lost in thought.

“... Not hungry for you lunch?” Sandra asks tentatively.

Jonah shakes his head, only half-hearing her.

“... Are you hungry for something else? Like... a customer?”

Jonah stops, and pulls the carrot out of his mouth. “You heard about that too?”

Sandra’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

“You did! Did- does everyone know about that?”

“Well, it-it’s been sort of, floating around-”

Jonah groans, putting his head in his hands.

“... So um... are you?”

“What? No! No, I am not hungry for him, that’s objectifying. Not that I- I mean, I’m a straight man, I can’t, objectify another man, because that implies attraction. ... Unless I’m playing into toxic masculinity stereotypes by believing that...”

“I don’t think you have to worry about falling into masculinity stereotypes,” Carol pipes up from another table.

Jonah looks at her, annoyed. Her eyes widen and she looks away. 

Jonah puts his head back into his hands. “This is a nightmare...”

“For all of us,” Sandra whispers.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah sighs, slumping over onto the customer service counter. Garrett just looks at him, waiting for whatever Jonah has in store.

“... It normal for straight guys to admire other straight guys appearances, right?”

Garrett blinks. “Wow, just some casual conversation, huh?”

“Just- I mean, I know people are talking about-”

“You eyeing up that dude earlier like he was a steak?”

“... Yeah. That.”

“Dude, I don’t think this is the issue you should be focused on right now.”

“I know, I know! I’m in my thirties, I should have this figured out and be focusing on more important things-”

“Not what I meant, actually, I meant the superpowers-”

“-but I don’t know, I’ve never really had anyone point it out before! And-and now I can’t stop thinking like, am I? Attracted?”

“You know there’s nothing wrong if you are, right?”

“Yes, I do, I’ve been to a bunch of rallies and stuff.”

“Did you oogle dudes at those rallies?”

“NO! ... I mean I guess I observed and-and appreciated-”

“Yeah, you might just be on the gay spectrum, dude. I don’t know what else to tell you. Except that, uh, you just accidentally slapped my shoulder and you’re as cold as a bag of ice, so maybe that should be your crisis of the day.”

Jonah is staring off into space, rubbing his arm. It doesn’t seem like he heard Garrett at all. Garrett just sighs, and rolls away.

Jonah stays there, contemplating, for quite a while.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, no more dancing around it.”

Jonah jerks awake. Again. God, why can’t he stay awake? ... Probably because he stayed up all night.

“No, Cheyenne.”

Jonah looks around. He peeks into the next isle, and then the next. 

... Where the hell are Cheyenne and Amy? He can hear them so clearly...

“He’s like, totally oblivious to it!”

“He’ll realize it eventually, okay? It’s not some truth bomb we can just drop on him.”

“My friends drop truth bombs on me all the time, and it just brings us closer. Best bitches don’t lie to their best bitches.”

“... Right. But, it’s kind of something for him to take the time to process.”

“What if he doesn’t? He’s just gonna like, wander around forever making excuses and being all nervous and confused.”

“Well... then we’ll give him a push. But for now let’s just... give him some space. Let him come to terms with it on his own.”

Jonah is startled out of his accidental eavesdropping by hearing himself sniffle. He quickly wipes his eyes, sticks his hands in his pockets, and hurries away. He still doesn’t know how he heard them, maybe some kind of really weird echo or sound tunnel. So he goes to the other side of the store entirely and finds the chattiest customer he can.

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He can feel Dina and Mateo staring at him as he restocks softlines. They whisper to each other, and he sighs and hangs his head. “You know, it makes it worse when you talk behind my back.”

Mateo yelps a little. He clears his throat and quickly composes himself. “Sorry. Uh, we were just talking about-”

“Yeah, no, I know. I’m... aware, okay? And I just would like to stop hearing about it for now, please.”

Mateo looks taken aback by the tiredness in Jonah’s voice, the... weary tone. Dina, however...

“Yeah, well, not exactly something to brush under the rug.”

“Why do you even care? It’s a me problem, okay?”

“Really? You think this doesn’t impact everyone?”

“How! Would it even do that?!”

“Well, let’s see! It made Mateo afraid, it made Amy all somber and worried about you, it made Glenn cry even more than usual-”

“It did?”

“He started a trust fund for your soul.”

“... Oh.”

Dina stops, her frown slowly becoming more confused. “You... didn’t realize that would happen?”

“... I don’t know, I guess I thought... thought he’d be more open-minded.”

“Glenn?”

Jonah takes a deep breath. Ugh, why’d it make his chest hurt? Why do his lungs feel like they don’t want the air? 

The next thing he knows he’s done with softlines (it felt like he got done in the blink of an eye) and walking away. He swallows down the lump in his throat, and the urge to comfort eat. God, he’s craving a snack now. Well, he has all day, but he’s been... a little distracted.

“Excuse me? Hello? Hey!”

Jonah looks up at the customer, still feeling drained and empty.

“Finally, god. How useless do they let you people be around here? I’m looking for the shock collars, my dog keeps licking me when I tell him not to.”

“... That’s a really, really shitty thing to do to your dog.” Jonah doesn’t really mean to say it, but he’s just sort of on autopilot now.

For some reason, the customer doesn’t reply. Just stiffens.

“Follow me. I’ll sort you right out.” Jonah thinks he smiles at them. But he can’t be sure, because at that moment he blacks out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah shrugs his coat on, not looking anyone else in the eye as they all file out to clock out.

He waits until the very end, and clocks out last. Maybe he can avoid them all by waiting long enough?

Ugh, he can’t. He feels restless. Looking like another sleepless night already. Two in a row, great. Maybe that’s why he had that blackout. He still isn’t sure where the customer went, nor how he ended up in the No-Go zone of the Gardening Section...

Whatever. They were a jerk, anyway. Maybe he talked some sense into them? He did that during a blackout yesterday. Maybe it’s stress, then?

He keeps his head down as he thinks about it (trying to avoid some other, more introspective thoughts) and walks out.

He lifts his head as he exits the breakroom to find everyone standing in a group, smiling softly.

“Um... what’s going on?” He claps his hands behind his back. Please don’t let this be more teas-

“We know we’ve made you uncomfortable today,” Mateo pipes up. “And after talking to Garrett about your guys’s conversation, we realized we had the totally wrong idea about everything.”

Glenn steps forward and hugs Jonah. “I accept you no matter what,” he says firmly. “I would never start a fund to save your soul for being gay, that was a complete misunderstanding! You like whoever you like, Jonah!”

“And I didn’t mean to badger you,” Dina admits with her shoulder a little sunk. “I didn’t quite understand what you were going through in your head, and I made some assumptions. Wrong ones.”

“We all care about you, Jonah,” Amy says, prying Glenn off of the poor man. “Okay? We just want you to know that. Today we were being really, really shitty. But it won’t happen again.”

For the second time today, Jonah isn’t aware he’s crying until he hears himself sniffle.

“I just- I feel really, really stupid,” he admits, wiping his eyes with his palms. He laughs, not quite bitterly, but not happy. “I mean, I’m in my thirties. I-I had... so many obvious moments where I should have realized! How... oblivious, am I?”

There’s a bit of an awkward air to the group after that comment. But Amy hugs Jonah, and he feels a little... spark, in his chest. It’s nice. 

His chest has felt pretty heavy and empty all day.

“Everyone comes to terms with stuff at their own pace,” Amy says. “I lived in an unhappy marriage for years because I couldn’t accept the obvious. What matters is that you got to this point of realization, okay?”

Jonah hugs back. He thinks he feels Amy shiver, but he brushes past it. They pull apart, and Jonah sniffs and wipes his eyes again.

“And I um. I-I don’t think I’m... fully, gay,” he says slowly. He hesitates, mouth open, the words stuck. “I think... I think I’m Bi.”

There’s a moment of silence. He smiles a little, and stands a bit straighter. That feels... really right. “I think I’m Bi,” he repeats.

Sandra claps for a second, but no-one joins in. She lowers her hands slowly.

“Wow! Hah! That feels- wow! God, that feels good! Um,, what-what now, though?”

Garrett shrugs. “Flirt with some dudes? Some people in-between dudes and chicks? I don’t know, man, it’s your life.”

“Your long, long life,” Dina mutters to herself.

“Right! Oh, yeah, uh... that guy! From earlier! I-I think I want to see him again. Okay, uh, I’m going to go home, and-and maybe research some local protests he might be at-”

Everyone groans a little.

“Protester Jonah is the preachiest Jonah,” Garrett says, shaking his head.

“Can he still be preachy? Wouldn’t that hurt?” Cheyenne whispers to Glenn. 

Glenn shrugs. “I’ll ask Pastor Craig,” he whispers back.

Jonah doesn’t even notice. “Okay! I’m going to head home! I kinda feel like, I don’t know, like this is a whole new chapter in my life! Um, how do we- I mean how do- do we do a group hug, or-or maybe a high-five-”

“Or we just head home.”

“Yeah, no, Garrett’s right, head home. Let’s all head home!”

They all head out to their cars. Jonah gets into his, plops down into the drivers seat, and grins.

What a freeing realization! He doesn’t know how he missed it, it was all so obvious! 

Well, as far as he knows, there’s no other huge life-revelations waiting for him. He’s figured it all out, finally.

He starts driving home, humming along with the radio as the car next to him keeps pace, despite being in the faster lane. He never understands why people do that when the roads are empty. He chuckles to himself. Maybe he’ll realize that Life Mystery tomorrow.

What he doesn’t realize, neither when he gets home nor when he wakes the next morning, is that he never turned his own radio on. 

[sometimesiwrite]

Just a Scratch

B I N G O ! 

Prompt: It’s Just a Scratch

Pairing: Lambert/Aiden; Eskel & Lambden; Implied Geralt/Eskel 

Rating: Teen 

Summary: Lambert and Aiden are moving to start the next leg of their adventure together. Eskel sees them off.

Warnings: Modern AU; bittersweet; friends leaving; implied COVID distancing A/N: For Ben & Jemma

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo @continentcakeshop @morethangeraskier​

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33145900

“All set?” Eskel asked, squishing in one final duffel bag into the footwell and backing himself out of the rear door of Aiden’s VW Golf. Anya, Lambert and Aiden's husky mix, dozed sleepily in the back seat despite the excitement, having been rudely awoken at 6:30am to confusedly do her business.

“That’s it,” Aiden shrugged, letting the trunk close with a dull, satisfying thud. He opened his arms questioningly, and Eskel wasted no time pulling him into an affectionate squeeze, touching his hand to the back of Aiden’s head before pulling away. 

“You take care of yourself. Let me know when you make your first stop, alright? Anything goes wrong, just let me know.” 

“We’ll call you from the hotel,” Aiden reassured as he flipped the car keys over his finger.

“I still say we can make it to Port Hope by the end of the day if we push it.” Lambert was tucked under the hood, giving the car one final check for fluid levels (tyre pressure had already been meticulously checked earlier that morning).

Aiden tilted his head, “That’s if you drive and unfortunately the highway patrol doesn’t care about fuel efficiency if you’re going ten over the speed limit.” He ambled his way over behind Lambert to get a cheeky eye-full of his favourite view, “Besides, I need you to put that sexy brain of yours to work for navigation.”

“Oi! Gerroff!” Lambert protested and Aiden backed away, but not before getting in a perfectly resonant smack. “If you had it your way, you horny old bastard, we’d be stopping every two hours to—”

 Eskel pointedly cleared his throat, scratching his head as he met Aiden’s eyes with a mixture of amused pride and endearing awkwardness that Aiden had so quickly grown to love. He would miss Eskel. They'd gotten close over the last five years, close enough that they had become friends of their own—each keeping the other company when Lambert or Geralt was out of town, planning surprises... 

Aiden's proposal had gone perfectly, their crowning achievement of mutual scheming. Lambert didn't even try to deny the fact that he'd cried like a baby—candles, dusk, his favourite hiking trail, champaign. Even Anya had behaved herself. That is, until she decided her owners had been embracing for too long and not paying nearly enough attention to her. Eskel had offered to edit that part out of the video, but Lambert insisted on keeping it in—"What's a special moment without our favourite dingus. Isn't that right, Anya? Are you a dingus? Yes! Yes you are!" 

“Not gonna miss us at all, are ya, big guy?” The hood latched heavily as Lambert wiped his hands and stowed the oil rag in the passenger's side door next to the Stanadyne.

"You kiddin'? I'm gonna miss you like hell. C'mere." Eskel wrapped Lambert in a bear bug that nearly crushed his goddamn ribs. 

"Easy, Eskel, Jesus I gotta breathe!" 

"Sorry," Eskel eased off, but he didn't let go. There hadn't been enough hugs in the last year. The last few months had barely made up for it, and now there would be far fewer. More dinners over Skype, more sporadic phone calls, occasional texts... watching his and Aiden's life unfold over Instagram and Facebook. But at least they would be happy, Eskel told himself. At least they were starting the next stage of their lives together with an adventure they'd remember forever. This was important for them. And yet the chill, damp fog of isolation was already creeping in around Eskel. Even as he held Lambert close to him and swallowed tears he'd save for later. 

One final squeeze and a pat on the back, and Lambert turned to get in the car, tossing a treat to Anya as he settled in. Aiden gave Eskel a final peck on the cheek, "Take care of yourself, alright? Don't be a stranger. Call, text, whatever. We're always happy to hear from you. Promise?"

Eskel nodded soberly, "I will. Thanks, Aiden." 

"We'll skype when we get to the new place. I want you to see it before it gets cluttered with boxes. We could even do dinner or—"

Eskel waved a hand, "We'll figure something out. Just get there in one piece, and send pictures. I'm not worried." 

Aiden smiled warmly, "Good. Good." A heavy exhale, "Alright, well..." 

"I hate to interrupt the bleeding hearts moment, but we've got commuter traffic piling up on the 606 as we speak! Get your gorgeous butt in the car, we gotta move!"

Aiden took a beat, "Yes dear!" 

"Okay, Anya! You be good!" Eskel gave the chocolate-and-caramel pup one last scritch behind the ears and closed the rear door just in time for the stereo to start playing Journey.

The car rolled down the driveway and Eskel watched until it disappeared over the hill past the stop sign. When the gravelly diesel purr was finally drowned out by late summer cicadas, Eskel sat heavily on the front steps with his coffee. He couldn't bring himself to open the door and go back inside. Something about the stark emptiness of a home previously occupied with guests made the aimless silence too loud. Besides, robins and cardinals were better than daytime tv for company. Finally, Eskel rested his forehead against his thumbs and let the wave of emotion breach the dam.

Shedding tears was something Eskel usually associated with significant pain—rage, grief, remorse, indignation—an open wound that took time and tending to heal. This wasn't like that, though. This was a scratch. Simple, uncomplicated pain: he was sad. Eskel couldn't remember the last time he'd cried because he was just... sad. Decades ago, he imagined, though he couldn't pinpoint a specific moment. It was something children did before emotions became more complicated. But here he was, sitting on his front steps, crying because he was sad. Eyes streaming, hot and wet down his cheeks because his friends were leaving. Just a scratch.

He felt silly, crying over something so inconsequential— and a man as touch-needy as Eskel, bearlike as he was, was left with the sinking feeling that, aside from Geralt, he might not touch another person for a rather long time.

It's not that they didn't have friends, of course, and he would talk to them later that night. He was helping to plan their wedding for chrissake, it's not like they would never speak again. But proximity to other people was something that had grown increasingly scarce, and Eskel—bearlike as he was—had the sinking feeling that, aside from Geralt, he might not touch another person for a while. 

Lambert and Aiden had an uncomplicated relationship with affection that always freed Eskel from the burden of second-guessing the odd touch to a shoulder or elbow. So many others had different personal spaces, many of which had expanded recently. Eskel was happy to respect, and accommodate, but Eskel always felt most himself when he could be affectionate with the people he cared about, and with those two gone, it suddenly felt as though a part of his identity was being forced back into shadow and shyness.

Eskel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he sniffed loudly before answering. "Yup? Geralt, hi. Yeah, they just-just left. I'm ok-I'm okay. You know. Goodbyes are never easy. How's the conference? Heh. Good, good. Tell him I send my regards... Listen, I should get to work. No, I’m okay, I'll call you later... Will do. I l— I love you, too, hon. Buh-bye.” 

Eskel hung up the phone and stared quietly at the bird feeder for a few more minutes before going back inside, feeling as though something in the cosmos had shifted. 

[isolaradiale]

The dark hues of the evening blended to lighter, softer blues of dawn. With every minute, the creatures of the museum began to slow until they stopped altogether, all at once. Whatever they were doing, they dropped it, and began to move their way to the places they had been before the museum took a turn for the lethal.

The artwork climbed back into their frames, stepped onto their pedestals, and walked back into their display cases. A light rain outside washed all the street paint away, color emptying into the drains in the city. Landscapes let their prisoners out, shutting the windows to their world.

Those unlucky enough to earn a spot on the Wall of Shame reappeared in the lobby, their wounds appearing as colorful splashes of paint, and nothing more.

As the oranges and golds of the sun trickled in through the ornate windows of the museum, a blaring voice interrupted the stillness as the intercom museum sparked to life.

"Goooood moooorning, my lovely little visitors! The door to the museum will be opening shortly. Please make your way back to the lobby in an orderly fashion, and be sure to grab all your belongings!"

As Capella promised, the large wooden doors opened once again, releasing all the prisoners of the museum.

"Thanks for visiting the Tempus Museum! Janus, did you want to say any parting words?" "I'm mortified enough as it is, thank you." Came a muffled voice from behind, sounding much less enthused.

"Aww, somebody's cranky... Well, suit yourself!"

As if to add *Extra Enthusiasm*, as everyone exit the doors, they passed by Capella's invulnerable form as she personally waved everyone goodbye, stickers glittering in the morning sunrise. Janus was still sitting at the reception booth, head in his hands and rubbing his temples.

"Bye bye! Goodbye now! Goodbye! Buh-bye! Bye now!" was the chorus that trailed off as she spoke, bidding farewell to the museum's visitors...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Thank you, everyone, for participating in our recent event: Canvas! As a reminder, you will receive event participation IF:

You've written a starter, thread, mini, or interacted with someone else using the event setting for parts 1, 2, or both.

You've written a 500 word drabble using the setting of the event for parts 1, 2, or both.

You did not have to participate in both parts to receive event credit (so if you only wanted to participate in part 1, it still counts!)

Remember that for participating in the event, you can give yourself 100 stars to use in the marketplace!

A few things have changed as a result of this event, also:

The Tempus Museum has decided to make its home in the Archimedes ward, for now, not far from the Theater of Calliope. Its structure and function is largely the same, but the Optimized Tools won't be there. The artwork won't come to life and attack you, either... during the daytime, that is. You can check out its full description on Archimedes' page!

Janus still takes his place as the museum's curator, and does his best to accommodate guests of the museum. It's not uncommon to see him taking and teaching courses and workshops in the museum, either! He's still polite and eager to help with anything involving the museum and its activities, but if asked questions about the Stars or Spirale, he'll politely explain that he doesn't want to get anyone into trouble. As in the event, on the odd chance that someone is hostile and violent toward him, they'll instantly be killed, and will respawn back in their room.

Thanks again for participating in Canvas! We hope you had a great time!

Frequently Asked Questions:

"Do the things we made turn back to normal?"

Yup! If you didn't destroy it in Part 2 of the event, whatever you made will turn back to normal.

"Will our artwork try to kill us at night?"

Nope! If you took it with you, it's of no danger to you. If you kept it on display at the museum, it's also no danger to you (or anyone else for that matter.) Only the original stock monsters of the museum come to life at night. But unless your muse breaks into the museum, you have nothing to worry about.

The monsters still have their damage invulnerabilities, so unless your muse has a death wish, maybe don't break into the museum without some serious planning. Shady art theft rings will buy your stolen artwork for a hefty price, though, so whether it's worth the risk or not is up to you.

The more often your muse breaks into the museum, the more the monsters will recognize their patterns. Breaking into the museum more than two times is almost impossible, and should be reserved only for the most cunning of thieves.

"What if we made weapons or jewelry? Can we take those back home too?"

Sure! Just know that the weapons will go back to being fragile, and will shatter if used in combat. Any jewelry will look very convincing, but if you try to sell them to anyone, they'll identify it as a fake. Not that they won't buy what you have anyway, but it certainly won't be worth the price of actual precious stones and minerals.

"Can we go back to the museum?"

Yes! It's open to the public from sunrise to sundown, unless there's a nighttime gathering at the museum (which you're free to come up with on your own if you'd like to use it in a setting for a thread.) You could also theoretically break in or sneak in, or hide until the place closes, but you run the risk of running into the guard patrols... or worse.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ (Epilogue)

As the visitors left the building, Capella skipped over to the front desk. Caelum emerged from the darkened corner of the lobby to join her, with the rubber stopper on his cane making soft thumps on the elaborate stone tile.

"Well, that was fun! Thanks for letting us use your museum, Janus." "You're... welcome, I suppose." "Good good! I'll come back here when I make more pieces to show off to the lovely people of our Spirale."

Punctuating this, her hands went up to playfully pat his cheeks.

"Ooookay! Well, until next time! And as for you, Dr. Caelum, I'll see you at this afternoon's meeting or whatever, right?" "Aha, yes I'll be there."

Saluting the both of them, her form vanished into a series of pixels, leaving the other two at the desk. Now that she was gone, the AI turned to give a pointed look at his father.

"...Mmm. Still angry, eh?" Came a chuckle, but the other didn't look so amused.

"You know, at one point, I would have congratulated you for feeling slighted. And I would have celebrated you experiencing such a thing. But you've been around for so long that these things come naturally to you now, don't they? Feelings like being angry... Now I just feel bad when you're upset like any other human."

Another more cheery laugh, and he walked himself over to the doors, motioning the other to follow. With the crowd gone, he could finally step outside and stand on the steps.

"...I am sorry for causing you trouble." "I know." "Good, I'm glad that came across." "I'm still irritated, don't get me wrong." "Yes, yes. I don't doubt it." "And I'm not sure if anyone will come back after such a thing. I wouldn't blame them. I just wanted a place to contribute to this whole thing, and now it's all..."

Sighing, he sat on the first step, watching the rest of the street illuminate in the warm glow of the sunrise. He only realized the old man beside him was trying to sit down when he gave a little huff of effort, and immediately helped his father down beside him.

"Ahh. Much better, thank you." "I could have gotten you a chair..." "Haha, that's alright. If you can sit on the steps, so can I."

For a while, the two sat in silence, watching the streets of Archimedes begin to wake up. Cars stirring, cafes opening, people walking their dogs.

"...Are you doing alright over there?" Janus asked, not turning his head.

"About as well as I can, mmhm." "You still have your migraine medicines down there, right?" "Mmhm. Dr. Lyra has been taking good care of my health, don't worry." "She's the nice one, isn't she? That's a welcome change from the other facility..."

A hand went to the Ai's shoulder, patting it reassuringly.

"Instead of worrying about my health, you should direct that concern inward, Mortimer. You have a place where you can walk around, do all sorts of things humans do. Talk to people, make friends. Play games, read books, paint your lovely canvases. You're not confined to the life we lived three years ago."

Silence followed for a little until the young man leaned against the older one. He must be pushing 70 at this point, right?

"...Are you in a place where you can refer to me by my name? And not that Star code that they made?" "Well, no. Not really. But I don't think anyone's listening. So I don't care~" "Ha! Rebellion got you into this mess, didn't it?" The AI replied with a laugh, earning another from his father.

"Well. Messes that they were, I can still sit with you without you being stuck behind a screen. So even after all the hells we've been through, I'd call that a success. Wouldn't you?"

A smile cracked on his face. They have gone through a lot.

"A success... it's nice to finally call something a success again, father. It's very nice."

[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fic

IN STITCHES

just a short, random, fun one

1956

New Frontier Hotel

Vegas

It was nearing 4 a.m. when Judy turned out the lamp on the nightstand and snuggled into the feather-down comforter of her hotel bedroom. The darkness, along with the fresh, cool sheets, made her immediately drift off into sleep. As she did so, her mind replayed tonight's events.  

She was nearing the end of her contracted show at the hotel. Every show had been a success, and with such a great audience, she was having a blast. Unfortunately, that morning, she had come down with laryngitis. She could speak alright; singing, even a slow melody, her voice had come out raspy and trying any loud or high notes sounded like a good impersonation of Mickey Mouse. She panicked. She could not cancel that show, not just because of financial aspects with the hotel, but because she didn't want to have newspapers write more false claims as to why she cancelled, which some columnists had gotten almost venomous since she left MGM. Most importantly, she also didn't want to disappoint her fans.  

With Gene's quick thinking, he contacted their buddy Jerry Lewis, whom was in town, and begged him to help Judy out. Fortunately, he came through, but told both of them, "I'm scared shitless. I don't know what to do out there." Judy was nervous, too! She didn't know how the show would pan out or how the audience would react.

Gene had said to her, "They just want to see you. That’s all. You can sit at the edge of the stage and talk to them about the weather and they'd be happy. That's how magnetic you are, so go and use it. Go out there with Jer' and just have fun."

Jerry did his comedy bits, bantered with Judy, leaving her in hysterical laughter, and they interacted with the audience. Jerry also sang some of her songs, in her normal arrangements, including 'Rock-A-Bye' with Judy as his personal cheerleader by his side. The crowd didn't mind at all that she couldn't perform. It was a very intimate evening, and all-in-all, a smash. She was so very grateful.  

After the show, she had a late dinner with Gene and a few friends, including Frank and Lauren, who surprised her by showing up to the show. By 2 in the morning, more people started coming around their booth in the bar and the noise was too much for Judy's exhaustion. Gene wanted to stay there with Frank a bit more so he told her to get some sleep. Giving him a kiss goodnight, she went up to the room. After reading a book, she finally got sleepy and head to bed. And boy, it felt marvelous.  

In the downstairs lobby, Lauren shook her head, annoyed, as she walked hastily up to the front desk in the hotel's lobby.

"May I use the house phone, please?"

The receptionist nodded, "Here you are ma'am," then placed the phone on the corner for her.

"Thank you." She immediately dialed the Kelly's hotel suite. When there was no answer, she dialed again, but no answer.  

"Dammit, Judes," she murmured as she clicked the phone down. She hoped Judy hadn't taken a sleeping pill.  

The Kelly's suite was quiet, and dimly lit, as Lauren entered with Gene's key. The double doors to the bedroom were shut, no light coming from beneath them, so Lauren knew Judy was dead asleep. Still, out of curtesy, she knocked before entering. Walking over to the empty side of the bed, she turned on the lamp there.

“Judy,” with no response, Lauren kneeled on the bed and leaned over to softly shake her friends arm, “Judy. Wake up, hun.”

She stirred before turning, a puzzled look on her face, clearly still more asleep than wake, “Betty?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing in my room,” she asked sitting up.

“Something’s happened. Are you awake?”

“What time is it?”

“4. You gotta get up. Gene’s got himself in a dilly,” Lauren said getting off the bed to grab Judy’s silk robe which hung over the vanity chair.

“What do you mean,” she asked alarmed.

“Some drunk asshole kept running his mouth and Gene kept antagonizing him. It ended in a brawl and Gene cut his arm pretty bad.”

Judy bolted out of bed putting her robe on, “Oh my God. Is he alright?”

“He’s okay, but the cut’s pretty deep. He won’t stop bleeding. The bartender gave him a rag to hold on his arm. I told him he needs stitches but he won’t stop arguing with me,” Lauren said as she followed Judy into the living room.

“Where is he now?”

“Downstairs with Frank talking to the house detective.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Judy said upset, “What should I do? I can't go down there like this. Lord knows what would come out in the papers if someone saw us.”

Just then there was a knock on the door and Lauren went over and opened it. Gene came in first, and irritatingly nudged Frank’s hand off his back, as he did so.  

“Gene, what the hell have you done now?”

“I’m fine,” he said upset himself before he plopped onto the sofa.

“You’re not fine. You need stitches.”

“I don’t need fucking stitches, Betty. I told you that.”

“Please don’t talk to her like that, let me see,” Judy said sitting next to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren replied unphased, “He’s cranky and has a gash the size of the Grand Canyon. I think it’s all the blood loss that’s messed with the tone in his voice.”

Judy tried not to smile at Lauren’s sarcasm, but Gene shot her a dirty look as if they were siblings. When Judy got the rag off of his arm carefully, she looked at her husband horrified.

“For Christ sakes, Gene.”

“Baby, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. You’re still bleeding. Look at the damn rag. It’s soaked,” she cried out.

“He needs a hospital.”

“He’s not going to a hospital because that’s dramatic and a waste of time,” Frank cut in, “Just call the house doctor.”

“I’m not taking him to the hospital or calling the house doctor,” Judy said getting up and walked across the room towards the phone, “If this gets out, people will think he came down with a Judy Garland ailment.”

“Judy,” Gene yelled shocked, then shot her a look over his shoulder, “That’s not funny.”

With the phone to her ear, she waved him off, clearly had been poking fun at her own expense.

“Who are you calling,” Frank asked.

“Tom Jacobs. He came to see the show tonight and is staying at the hotel,” she said of their doctor friend, a prominent Beverly Hills physician, “Maybe he can come look at Gene.”

“You’re going to wake him up at four in the morning,” Gene asked.

“Yes, so my husband doesn’t bleed to death...Hi, Tom? Hi, it’s Judy. I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I don’t know what to do. I’m alright, but Gene’s got himself in a pickle. He cut his arm pretty bad and we think he need stitches...”

“I DON’T NEED STITCHES,” Gene yelled interrupting her.

Judy continued, looking at her husband upset and yelled back at Gene covering the receiver with her hand, “He DEFINITELY needs stiches! Ok. Yes. Room 209. Thank you, darling. Buh bye.”

She walked on back over to Gene and sat down next to him again, “Why did you antagonize him, especially when you know he’s a drunk. You know I hate that stuff,” she said in a stern, wifely manner.

“If you heard the things he was saying, you would have thrown your martini in his face,” Gene retorted leaning his head back against the couch tired.

“Judging by what he was saying, she would have thrown it on his crotch,” Frank agreed.

“How hammered are you,” Judy asked.

“Scale?”

She sighed impatiently, “1-10.”

“4.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No,” Lauren interrupted, “He didn’t drink that much.”

“I can attest,” Sinatra added.

When Gene rolled his head to look at her with a ‘see’ expression, she smiled, softening.

“What did the house detective say,” Lauren asked her buddy next to her.

“Threw the guy out and I sweet-talked him and he let us go,” Frank quipped quite proud.

“Are you in pain,” Judy asked sweeping some of his hair back with her fingers.

“No. Can't really feel my arm right now.”

“Can you feel this,” she asked and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“That I can definitely feel.”

When the doctor came, Lauren and Frank said their goodbyes to give them privacy. Tom looked Gene over and took his vitals.

“Well, here’s the deal, bud,” Tom said, “Your vitals are great. Your blood pressure is just a little high but that’s to be expected after what happened. And your wife is right. You definitely need stitches.”

“Fuck,” Gene said to himself.

Judy looked at Tom and whispered, “He hates needles.”

“Tell ya what, pal, I’m gonna give you some happy juice so while I suture you up, you won’t feel a thing.”

Judy lit herself a cigarette as the doc worked on Gene’s stitches, who looked like he was asleep. She paced slowly back and forth. The movement caught Gene’s eye and his head slowly rolled to look at her. He tried focusing his eyes a moment, and when he did, he made a silly grin.

“Hey, you.”

Judy stopped in her tracks and looked over at him, exhaling.

“How are you feeling?”

“Come here,” he said and reached his free arm out towards her, lazily.

“Gene, don’t move, please,” the doc said looking through his magnifying glasses.

Judy immediately went over and took that hand so he wouldn’t continue to move.

“You’re beautiful.”

Judy let out a surprised chuckle, “Even at the crack of dawn, huh?”

“Is that what it is?”

“Pretty much.”

“You look familiar.”

Judy’s eyes widened and she looked up at Tom who just smiled not lifting his eyes, “Don’t worry about him. It’s the same effect as if he’s coming off anesthesia. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, you look familiar, too,” Judy played along.

“I’m Gene Kelly,” he stated proudly, but still with a slurred speech.

“Nice to get reacquainted, I’m Judy Kelly.”

His smile faded and he furrowed his eyebrows, “We have the same last name? Oh, no, you're not my sister are you?”

Judy let out a laugh but quickly cleared her throat, “No, darling, I’m your wife.”

“What’s your maiden name?”

“What an odd question. You want my maiden name or my given name?”

“Pick.”

“Well, you probably remember me more as Judy Garland.”

“Wait,” Gene went to sit up but Judy pushed him back, “I married Judy Garland?”

“Yeeeees,” she teased.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself which made her laugh again.  

“Oh my goodness,” she giggled.

“How long we been hitched?”

“5 years.”

“How can I not remember this? Where have I been this whole time?”

“You’ve been with me...dancing me off my feet and giving me two little Kelly’s.”

“We got kids?”

“Yes, sir,” she said reaching for her cigarette again, “A four-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.”

“Can I see them?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she giggled feeling a tad uncomfortable with her husband’s temporary amnesia, “Your parents came and took them home with them a few days ago. We’ll be with them again next week when we leave here. Tom,” Judy said a bit worried, “How long is this going to last?”

“Oh, it’ll wear off in about an hour, if not sooner. It’s a completely normal reaction, Judy, don’t worry yourself.”

“I’m worried he’ll want to re-do our honeymoon and have two more kids in that next hour since he can’t remember,” she teased.

They both suddenly heard Gene softly snoring and Judy felt relieved.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. He’s going to have a very restful night’s sleep.”

“He’s such an idiot sometimes,” she said looking at her cute, sleeping husband, “But he’s my idiot.”

[wickedobsessed101]

"Sewing It Up" Oneshot #12: "Mama Moment: Meltdown"

We’re officially in the pre-final-chapter time hop in “Sew On And Sew Forth”

~~~

Not much could call Villy from her focused streak while she was working. She always threw all her attention into whatever project she was working on, since she could lose her place if she got distracted.

But ‘not much’ didn’t include miscellaneous, painful-sounding grunts from her stepdaughter’s room. Now she remembered why she didn’t like working outside her studio downstairs, but she’d figured replacing a few buttons on her husband’s work shirt wouldn’t take a lot of time.

“Nyris?” she asked, appearing in the doorway. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t find my sparkly scrunchie! I need it for my ballet class!” the nine-year-old cried.

“Just wear another one.”

“I can’t! That’s my lucky scrunchie! I can’t do my fouettés without it!”

Not knowing the state of her stepdaughter’s room stopped her from entering. “Where did you last see it?”

“It was on my dresser, with my other scrunchies.”

“‘Parky!”

Nyris turned as her father carried her toddler brother into the room, and the poor hair accessory was balled up in his little fist. “My scrunchie! Why does Chozon have it?”

“Chozon, that’s Nyris’s scrunchie. Can you give it back and say sorry for taking it?” Geri asked, kissing his son’s cheek and setting him down.

The two-and-a-half-year-old boy toddled over to his big sister and handed her the accessory. “Tawwy, Nini.”

“It’s okay,” Nyris muttered, tying her hair into a neat bun and clipping her bangs back.

“We have to leave in ten minutes, Butterfly.” He lifted Chozon into his arms and carried him downstairs.

“‘Kay,” she called distractedly, making sure she had everything in her bag.

Villy went back to the bedroom and was able to finish the shirt before Geri and Nyris left. “Have you decided where you’re going on your daddy-daughter date?” she asked, coming down the stairs.

“We’re seeing the new Ozian Girl movie, Wynea Rides Again. All my friends have seen it, and I’ve successfully avoided their spoilers all week,” Nyris announced dramatically.

“Wonderful. Have fun in your ballet class and the movie,” Villy smiled, giving Nyris a hug.

“Thanks, Mimsey!”

“Go Papa!” Chozon said, tugging on his father’s hand.

Geri shook his head, kneeling to his level. “Not today, buddy. You’re staying here with Mama.”

“No! Go Papa!”

“But Mama planned a special day just for you.” He didn’t know if she had, but hoped she would work with him on this.

“I did. A very special day,” Villy added.

The toddler’s bottom lip quivered, and Geri could feel the meltdown coming. “Go Papa.”

“We had our special day last week, remember? It’s big sister’s turn now. Then next weekend, it’s your turn again.” He pulled his son into a hug, though didn’t know if it would make this situation worse or not. “Don’t you want a special day with Mama?”

He sniffed. “Uh-huh.”

The banker smiled. “That’s good.” He playfully ruffled his hair. “I know you’ll have fun and you’ll be a good boy. Say bye to Nyris.”

“Buh-bye, Nini,” he said, his momentary sadness forgotten as he hugged his big sister.

“Bye, Chozon,” Nyris smiled. “Bye, Mimsey.”

“Have you forgotten something?” Villy asked, hearing Geri unlock the front door.

He turned and pulled his wife into a kiss, which she quickly returned. “Now I’m good.”

She gently pulled away, blushing furiously, and opened her hand, revealing his car key. “I meant this, but thanks.”

He took the key with a sheepish chuckle. “Where was it?”

“On the dresser. I was putting my sewing kit back when I found it.”

“Thank you, Dovey.”

Once the two left, Villy lifted Chozon into her arms and kissed his cheek. “Looks like it's just us today, buddy.” She was glad for this day alone with her son.

“Mama book?”

“Yes, we can read a book.” She carried him up the stairs to his room, putting him down and hearing him run over to his little bookshelf.

“Dis one.” He pushed the book into his mother’s hands, jumping in excitement.

Her son had grabbed one of the non-braille picture books they hadn’t had the chance to get transcribed yet. “Mama can’t read this one, honey. Can you get one with the special dots?”

“‘Pecial book?”

“Yes, a special book. Like one of your animal books?” The braille books were mostly animal picture books, so he had a good chance of grabbing a book she could read.

“‘Kay! Farm book!”

“Put this one back on your shelf.”

He took the book back and grabbed the second one. “Big bed?”

The toddler loved to sit and sleep on the master bed, and it was his favorite cuddle and napping spot. “Sure.”

Once they were settled on the bed, Chozon snuggled on his mother’s lap, they began their special story.

“I see a river,” Villy read, “where all the animals get water. What animals are at the river?”

He looked at the colorful picture with a wide smile. “Horsies!”

“Yeah! What sound does a horse make?”

“Neigh!”

“What other animals are there?”

“Dat.”

“What’s that?”

His hand slammed against the picture page. “Dat!”

“What are you pointing at?”

“Baa-baa!”

Realization dawned on her. “You see sheep at the river?”

“Baa-baa!”

She chuckled. “Yes, a baa-baa.”

Reading soon turned into a game of making different animal noises, even ones that weren’t on the farm. Once he decided that he was done with the game, he slid off the bed and hurried out of the room.

“Wait, Chozon!” Villy called, reaching out her hand. “Come here.”

Chozon turned and bounced back. “Mama?”

“We need to put this book back. And you need to tell me what you wanna do next.”

“Make ‘nack in pay kiten.”

“Okay. We can cook together in the play kitchen.”

Once the book was safely back on the bookshelf, they headed downstairs to the library. Chozon ran over to the play kitchen he’d inherited once his older sister grew out of it, and went to work making a mess of all the plastic food and utensils.

“You like sawbewwies,” he smiled, holding the fruit out to his mother.

“I love strawberries,” Villy agreed, holding out her hand.

He handed her the fake fruit, and she eagerly pretended to chow down, followed by tomato soup, pizza, chicken nuggets, and ice cream.

“You’re a wonderful cook, Chozon,” Villy smiled, handing him the chocolate ice cream cone.

“Want real ice ceam now.”

She checked her watch. “Oh. It’s past lunchtime. Let’s have some real food. Let’s clean up.”

She helped her son clean up the mess, prompting him with questions as to which foods went in the fridge, and what went in the cabinet. Once they were done, she did a quick scan of the immediate area. Chozon hadn’t thrown anything (this time), and she didn’t feel any plastic toys, and she pulled her son into her lap for a congratulatory hug and kiss.

“Before we get lunch, let’s go potty.”

“No potty.”

They had started potty training, and now, mini potties were in both the up and downstairs bathrooms. Chozon had graduated from diapers to pull-ups to preserve their furniture and floors for as long as possible.

“Can we just try a little? You haven’t gone in a while.”

“No potty.”

She felt his pull-up. It felt dry, so she let it go. Fighting would only cause a meltdown. “Okay. We’ll go later. But tell me when you need to go pee-pee.”

The little boy hummed and toddled over to the stairs, reaching up to Villy to carry him up. “Up!”

As much as she loved carrying and holding her son, she was trying to slowly wean him off. “Mama can’t carry you right now, honey. But you can hold my hand, and we can walk up together.”

He wrapped his little fingers around hers, and they slowly made their way back up. For lunch, he requested a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (without the crust), but ended up using it as a luffa all over his face, shirt, and legs. Villy discovered the fate of the food when she went to take his plate, and he smeared his peanut-butter covered hands on her arm.

“Oh, Chozon,” she sighed, wetting a soft cloth and feeling for the mess around him and the highchair. She wiped his face, then felt his sticky shirt. “Let’s give you a bath.”

“Wit duckies!”

She lifted him from the chair and felt the chair. The only thing sticky was the tray, and the mat under the chair was clean. “Okay, let’s go.”

She bathed him as quickly as possible, making sure the smell of peanut butter was fully washed off, wrapped him in a towel, and carried him back to his room. After putting him in in a fresh pull-up, she went to pick out a new shirt and shorts, but fading footsteps made her pause. “Chozon?” She belatedly realized she forgot to close the door and he ran off. “Chozon!” she called, reaching out her hand on the off chance that he was still in the room. “We’re not playing hide-and-seek right now. Come here.”

Not hearing him, she went into the hall, trying to think of where he could have gone. She didn’t hear him go downstairs, so he had to still be up there. That made it easier for her. She paused, waiting to hear even the slightest sound her loud child would inevitably make. Grunts from the master bedroom caught her attention and she hurried over.

“Can’t get up, Mama,” he said from her side of the bed.

Relief washed over her and she walked over, her hand brushing against his curly hair. “Chozon, look at Mama.” She knelt, pulled him away from the bed, and turned him to face her. “Honey, what did we talk about? You can’t run away from me. I can’t see, so I can’t find you if you run away. Do you understand?”

“No running?”

“No running.”

“‘Kay.” He snuggled closer. “No running.”

“Good. Thank you, honey.”

She was positive she would have to continuously remind him, but for now, he seemed to understand. Though, she was already mentally preparing for his faze of sneakiness where he would be dead silent when he was doing something he knew he had no business doing.

“Let’s finish getting dressed now.”

“I pick.” He tugged on her hand, eager to pick out his own clothes.

In all his two-year-old style, Chozon chose his striped, orange t-shirt and purple shorts. The seamstress said nothing when she read the braille label on the tags, knowing her son didn’t understand anything about clashing colors. As her son, he’d soon be forced to learn.

Now redressed, they spent the next half hour playing with the blocks in his room (remembering to close the door this time). His favorite activity was stacking the blocks, then knocking them down. More often than not, Villy found herself on the receiving end of blocks to the face. Thankfully, the blocks were made of felt.

“Again!” Chozon laughed after knocking the tower down for the sixth time.

“Another castle?” Villy asked, pushing the blocks off her lap.

“Fort.”

“We can build a fort this time.”

Before she could hand him a block, Chozon jumped up and bolted to the door, grunting as he tried to reach the doorknob.

“Chozon, come here,” Villy said, but was ignored. “Chozon.”

“Fort! Downstairs fort!”

She went over. “We can’t go downstairs. We can make the fort up here.”

“No! Fort downstairs!”

“Chozon, we are not going downstairs.” She lifted him into her arms and carried him back to the blocks. As soon as she sat him down, he ran back to the door, his grunts turning into cries as he tried to reach the handle and banged on the door.

“Chozon, enough. I said no.” She picked him up again, tightening her grip when he started flailing. She set him down, but kept his hand in hers, stopping him from running again. But it didn’t stop him from pulling against her.

“No, Mama! No! Down!” In his falling and flailing, his hand roughly smacked against his mother’s cheek.

After a moment of shock, Villy wrapped her arms around his hips, locking her fingers behind his back, doing her best to not react to his physical outbursts. “Chozon,” she said seriously, her tone forcing him to pay attention. “I know you are upset, but it’s never okay to hit anyone. It hurts when you hit. I need you to calm down.”

“No!”

She could feel his skin heat up and his breathing quicken, and she knew she had to calm him down before he made himself sick. “Honey…”

“No…” he breathed as he started to wheeze. He tried to push away from her, keeping her at arm’s length. “No…” This new feeling scared him, amplifying his hysterics.

She had been able to deescalate his meltdowns before, but this was a whole new level. She knew she had to tread lightly. “Can you take some deep breaths, Chozon?”

“No!” He whined and coughed directly in her face.

She couldn’t suppress a wince, feeling the tiny, wet specks hit her face. She wiped her face with her forearm and quickly returned to her hold on her son. “Well, I’m gonna take some deep breaths. You can do them with me, if you want,” She demonstrated the calming behavior, and felt his grip on his shoulders loosen slightly. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“No.” His cries lessened to a whine, which she took as a good sign.

“Okay. Do you want a hug?”

His grip tightened again. “No.” He started pushing and whining again, and she could tell he was trying to communicate with her. She waited patiently for a word she could understand to tell her what he wanted. He tried to escape her hold again, but she kept her grip firm. “Dat!” he said, pointing at an unknown object.

“What are you pointing at?”

“Dat!” The tears returned and he sank to the floor.

She could tell they had shifted from wanting to make the fort downstairs into a grey area of miscommunication. He was getting frustrated she didn’t know what he was trying to say or what he pointed at.

“You need to talk to me, Chozon. Can you tell me with your words what you want? You know so many words,” she asked gently.

He shook his head.

“Can we do our deep breaths again?”

She got more whining words and foot stomps, but no deep breaths.

“Chozon, I can’t understand you when you’re whining. I can’t help if I can’t understand.”

“Dat! Ma… ma… I…”

She rubbed calming circles on his stomach. “Show me what you want.” She stood and helped him to his feet. While she was prepared for him to bolt to the door again, she was surprised when he took her hand and pulled her over to his crib. “Dat!” he said, reaching for the sock monkey.

The seamstress reached in and felt around for the toy. “You wanted your sock monkey,” she said softly.

He took it from her and sank to the floor, hugging it tightly. His wheezes slowly calmed as he pressed his face against the soft toy. “You said… make a fort,” he said with a cough.

Now that he was calm, they could talk. “I did.”

“You… has fabics…”

“You wanted to make a fort with my work fabrics?”

“Yeah. Downstairs.”

Her muscles relaxed. “I’m sorry I misunderstood you. But we can’t use those fabrics. Those are for my work. Do you still want to make our fort? We can use a blanket, instead.”

“No.” He rested his head on her shoulder. “Juice.”

“Okay, let’s do this. Say, ‘Mama’.”

“Mama…”

“Juice, please.”

“… Juice.”

“Please.”

“… Please.”

She nodded. “Yes, Chozon. You can have juice.” She gave him a gentle squeeze, rocking him. “I love you.”

“Wuv you.” He turned, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, right at the spot where he hit her. “Tawwy.”

“Thank you, sweetie. I’m okay. Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. We’ll go wash our face, then get juice.”

Once the toddler was placated with his apple juice and had a potty break (celebrated by getting a star on his chart), he began to settle down for a nap. As was their routine, Villy held him and walked around the living room humming her special lullaby, only laying him on the sofa when she was sure he was fast asleep. He wasn’t a restless sleeper, so she felt comfortable letting him nap on the sofa. She moved the pillows to the floor in case he slipped off, and draped a light blanket over him.

Taking advantage of the silence, she took a moment to regroup and did some minor cleaning. Every few minutes, she’d check on him, and she found him in the exact same position each time. She was in the middle of washing the dishes when she heard the front door unlock.

“We’re home!” Geri called, pulling the key from the lock as Nyris bounced in.

“Hi, Mimsey!” Nyris giggled, hugging her stepmother from behind.

Villy dried her hands and turned to return the hug. “Hi. How was class and the movie?”

“Both were fun. Papa let me have a large bucket of butter popcorn. And he cried at the end.”

“There was a lot of dust in the theater, and my eyes watered,” the banker defended himself.

“Uh-huh,” Villy smirked. “I’m sure it was your allergies, and not the fact that you’re a big softy.”

“Of course. I can’t be a strong bodyguard, and be seen crying at the end of a movie for tween girls. Where’s Chozon?”

“He’s napping on the couch. I put him down around thirty minutes ago, but he might be out for longer than normal.”

“Was everything okay?”

“Yeah. We had a good time today.”

He could see the truth in his wife’s eyes that it was a harder-than-normal day, but didn’t comment on it. “Do you want a break?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around her.

She sighed. “It wouldn’t go unappreciated.”

“Okay. You go lie down. I’ll finish the dishes and entertain the kids. I won’t let Chozon sleep too long, so he’ll sleep tonight.”

“Thank you.” She made her way up to the bedroom and unceremoniously collapsed on the bed, sleep taking over the second her head hit the pillows.

~~~

One more oneshot!