#and they lay together on his bed and paul tells him about thanksgiving dinner at his own house

[darkesthourofthedarkestnight]

paul holden who shows up at the curtis house for thanksgiving dinner because he can’t bear the blank walls, the table full of food that wouldn’t get eaten, his father’s cold stare across the table. paul who’s welcomed inside with no questions asked, given a spot at the table, and is treated like a part of the family. paul who enjoys the atmosphere and the kindness of darry and his family but he knows he’ll never quite fit in with them, and he’ll always have his own— well, what you could call family.

[nicolewoo]

All Along Part 2

Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader, Roman Reigns X Reader

Warning: Cursing and explicit sex. SMUT SMUT SMUT.

I woke up to the realization that I was curled up on Joe's chest again. I breathed in his scent and appreciated the feel of his arms around me. I looked up to see that he was still asleep. The movie we'd been watching last night was over, and the TV screen was on the menu page. I was going to lay just like this for as long as possible. I placed a kiss on his chest and ran my hand over his arm tracing his tattoo.

“Mmmmm” He moaned. I felt his head shift and looked up to see him looking at me. The sweetest smile brightened his face. “Hey. Looks like we fell asleep.” He ran his hand up and down my back.

“Looks like it.” I answered laying my head back down onto his shoulder. “How did you sleep?” I asked.

“Baby, I always sleep well when you're here.” He kissed my forehead, running his fingers through my hair.

My alarm went off, jarring us from our snuggling bliss. Joe moaned as I reached to grab my phone and turn the beeping off. “I don't want to get up,” he sighed. I opened the calendar on my phone and began reviewing my schedule for the day. Joe peeked down at my phone and said, “What time is our flight?”

“10 am.” I said. “We should get up and get ready.” I smiled up at him.

He turned me so my back was to the mattress and he shimmied down so he was on top of me, face to face. “Can't we just play hooky?” He nuzzled my neck and I felt him begin to get hard. If only he knew how wet he made me, he'd never get out of bed..... I wouldn't either.

We hadn't had sex yet. We'd only declared our feelings two days ago, but knowing each other as well as we did, waiting to be together was so difficult. It felt like we were ready, but were holding off out of some archaic morality system.

Now, laying in his bed beside him, sleeping next to him as I had both nights since Thanksgiving, feeling him nuzzle my neck, I KNEW I was ready. Maybe it was a good thing that we had to catch a flight in a couple of hours.  

“I wish.” I said as I played with his hair.

He pulled away from my neck and looked in my eyes, his hand running under my shirt and skimming my stomach lightly. “Stay with me tonight.” He said impulsively.

“What?” I was shocked at how certain he sounded. “We're going to be in a hotel full of co-workers.”

He smiled slightly, “And?” he quirked an eyebrow. “Stay with me.” He pleaded. “I don't care who knows or what they say.” He was so certain it was hard to argue with him, so I nodded yes. He kissed me sweetly, and his hand began to brush against my stomach again. As he slid his tongue in my mouth, his hand slowly ventured down slipping inside my shorts. It took every bit of willpower I had to grab his wrist and stop him. He pulled back and looked into my eyes.

“We have a plane to catch.” I gently reminded him, and he lowered his head to rest in my neck.

“It's getting harder and harder to stop myself.” He admitted.

I grunted in frustration, “Here too.” I admitted.

I took a deep breath. “Ok, let's get out of bed before we start something we don't have time for.”  With a quick kiss to my lips, he slid out of the bed, holding his hand out to help me up. Joe showered in his room while I used the shower in the guest room. When I returned to his room to start putting everything back in my suitcase, Joe came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. I gasped at the view.

“Shit, baby girl. I didn't know you were in here, he quickly turned to go, but not before I saw the tent in his towel.

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself as I turned away.

“Could you... um.... Can you bring me some pants?” He called out. I knew where he kept everything and I quickly got into his dresser to grab a pair of boxers and pants.

“Which pants?” I asked looking at the array.

“The jeans that are on top please.” He said. I grabbed them and went to the bathroom to hand them to him. “I was never shy in front of you before.” He admitted, and I realized he was right. I often saw him changing or in a towel in his locker room. Now though, it was so different.

I just chuckled and went back to packing, trying desperately to forget what I'd just seen.

“Did I see The Bump on your schedule?” Joe called out from the bathroom quickly changing the subject.

“I'm meeting with the producer today. I'm a guest on next week's show.” I saw him come out of the bathroom, still incredibly sexy with wet hair and no shirt.

“That's awesome!” he said as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. “You've been kicking ass and taking names since you got to Smackdown.” He kissed my shoulder softly.

“Joe?” I asked, and he answered with a questioning hmmm. “Baby,” Fuck! How could I say this? “If you keep touching me......” I trailed off, but he knew.

He pulled his arms away from me and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I understand.” He said, but he didn't move away from me. Instead, he kept his body pressed against mine. His voice was husky with lust “Tonight, baby girl.” His voice resonated in my body and I felt my pussy clench in desire. I had to take a deep breath this time. He moved away from me and calmly said, “Finish packing. We're running out of time.”

“Ugh! That's not fair!” I complained, and turned to see a shit eating grin on his face.

“It might not be fair, but it's fun.” He teased, and I threw a sock at him.

He reached into his dresser to grab a shirt and slid it on his body, covering his incredible chest. “Tonight?” I asked.

He stopped what he was doing and came over to wrap his arms around me, “If you're ready.” He looked into my eyes. “I'm ready.”

I couldn't help the giant smile on my face. “I've been ready.” I said and he smiled too.

“Let's finish packing and get to the airport.”

=================================

The day DRAGGED. Everything seemed twice as hard as it should have been.... First a plane delay.... then a mix up with our room reservation.... the whole day was difficult. I just wanted it to be tonight. I wanted to be with Joe so bad, and it was all I could think about.

After losing my match, which I really didn't care about today, I showered, then waited in Joe's locker room until his match. As I went to the common area to watch the match on the TV, Becky wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “How are things going?” I knew she was asking about Joe.

“Everything is perfect.” I said, but she quirked an eyebrow.

“If everyt'ing is so perfect, why are you all tense?”

“Tonight.” was all I said.

“Tonight?” She questioned.

“Tonight's the night.” She didn't understand. “Becks, tonight is THE night.”

Realization dawned on her and she looked at me in surprise. “You guys still haven't....?” I shook my head no. “Holy shit girl! No wonder ya look like yur gonna snap on someone.” She giggled a bit which caught the attention of others in the room. I pressed my finger to my lips to tell her to keep the information quiet, and she patted my shoulder in understanding. I leaned my head back onto her shoulder. “It's gonna be great.” She said to me.

================================

“Let's go to the gorilla,” she suggested when the match was almost over. I hadn't pried my eyes off the screen through the entire match. We headed over just as his music hit. He'd won the match.

AJ styles came through the curtain first. Everyone was congratulating him on such a great match. Joe took a few extra minutes to ham it up for the crowd before he came back. Once in the gorilla, he and AJ congratulated each other on a great match, and Paul Levesque  joined them for hugs and congrats. As the show ended, everyone in the room started milling around.

Joe was talking to Paul, so Becks and I chatted while we waited. I noticed Joe peaking up at me, and I smiled softly at him. Then again and again. He was having trouble paying attention to his conversation.

“Get a room,” Becks said quietly to me.

“We have one,” I whispered back, “and as soon as he's done talking to Paul, we can head there.”

Paul finally looked up to see where Joe's attention was. He looked confused when he saw me. He knew Joe and I were best friends, and it wasn't uncommon to see me waiting in the gorilla. My guess is that he was wondering why Joe was distracted by me this time. Either way, Joe focused solely on Paul after that. When their business was done, Joe marched over to me, took my hand and dragged me to his locker room without even a word.

I took a seat on a bench while he showered trying to block out the urge I had to strip down to nothing and join him. Before I could I even imagine what would happen in there, he was out, and he was ready to go a minute later. He beckoned me to him and we left. He didn't even care who saw us. Yeah, it was normal for us to hold hands, but not for him to be dragging me out like this. I saw a couple of  people take second looks at us.

“Are you hungry?” He finally spoke once we got in the car.

“Yes.”

“Can we order room service or is there something special you want?” He asked, and I agreed to room service. Once in the hotel, we stopped by the front desk and ordered dinner. Joe left specific instructions to have the meal delivered to our suite's living room, but not to bother us. He tipped there at the front desk.

“What was that about?” I asked about the special instructions as we got I the elevator

Joe walked over to me, placing a hand on the wall on each side of me. “I don't want to worry about having to wait because of room service.” He looked in my eyes and I reached up to kiss him.

“You think of everything, don't you?” I teased.

“Well...” Joe looked shy again, “There's one thing we haven't talked about. Birth control.” He looked down to me, grabbing my chin in his fingers. “I brought condoms, but I'm pretty sure you're on the pill?” He was right. One of the benefits of working for WWE was that we were tested for STD's when we were drug tested; which was frequently, so we didn't have to worry about that.

“I am.” I answered; then added “But we can use a condom if you want.”

He chuckled down at me, “No baby girl, I trust you to take the pill.” He pressed his lips lightly to mine, starting a fire inside of me, but it was interrupted by the elevator stopping.

I was getting excited and just a bit nervous. What was going to happen? Was this going to be awkward? I began overthinking every possible scenario of how this was going to start. I shouldn't have worried though, because once we were in the room, Joe took my face in his hands and stared deep into my eyes. He slowly leaned down and gave me a gentle, sweet kiss. Instantly, all of my nervousness was gone. I was with my best friend, and this is what we were meant to be. I knew it. He knew it.

He guided me to the bedroom, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a few candles scattered around the room lighting everything in a soft glow. Joe turned to see the happy look on my face and shyly said, “I wanted to make tonight special.”

“Thank you,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, kissing me back. I began to guide us to the bed, and I felt a smile cross his lips. When I felt the mattress against my legs, I stopped and laid down on the bed.

“Sit up,” He said, and leaned over to kiss me, his hands slipping under my shirt and running over my skin. I moaned at the gentleness of the move. He lifted my shirt up and over my head and removed his own shirt. His eyes took in my form as he smiled down at me. “I've thought of this so many times,” He said as he laid next to me and ran his hand over my stomach again.

“Me too.” I said as I pulled him closer for a kiss. I moved to start kissing his neck, and he moaned as I gently sucked a spot for a moment. He pressed his body against mine, and I reveled in the feel of his skin against mine, but it wasn't enough. I needed more, and he sensed it.

Slipping his hand behind me, he undid my bra and discarded it onto the floor. He leaned up for a second to survey my breasts and smiled in pleasure. He took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lathing it quickly, causing me to arch my back and press closer to him. I felt a contented hum from him, and it vibrated my nipple wonderfully.

I reached and grabbed for anything I could hold onto finding only his shoulders as he continued to tease my nipple. I could feel him hard as a rock inside his jeans as he pressed against me. I was having trouble concentrating on anything except the pleasure his mouth was giving me, but I managed to reach between us and undo his button. He pulled away and looked into my eyes as he took off his jeans and then mine. I pulled my underwear off which prompted him to also.

The view of his thick member being freed caused me to inhale sharply, and I reached to take him in my hands, causing him to moan and lean his head back as I stroked him. His hand began to slide slowly up my inner thigh, sending pangs of need straight to my core. I released his penis and wrapped a leg around his waist trying to pull him closer to me.

“I need you,” I begged, and he moaned back at me.

“There's so much I want to do with you.” He whispered to me.

“Later.” I whispered back. “Right now I NEED you, baby.”

He looked down at me, giving up his plans and slowly sliding into me, causing us both to moan in relief. It felt so right having him inside me. He kissed me softly and began to slide in and out of me slowly, tenderly. My hands grabbed onto his arms and explored his muscles as I reveled in the feel of him filling me. He moaned again and I saw frustration in his eyes as he tried to keep a slow pace, so I wrapped my legs tighter around him.

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Baby girl? Tell me what you need.”

My voice was louder than I meant it to be as I answered, “I need to cum.” He didn't need to hear any more. He pulled out of me and replaced his dick with two fingers causing me to cry out in sadness. He pumped in and out of me a few times before stilling his fingers deep inside me and curling up to brush my gspot. It was exquisite pleasure, and I lost all control of my body as he brought me to my orgasm, watching my face as I came.

He kissed me deeply until he was sure my orgasm was over. “You look so beautiful when you cum.” He smiled down at me, and I felt a hint of shyness, but this was Joe. This was my best friend, and we were taking this journey into a new phase of our relationship together.

“Come here,” I said as I pulled him back on top of me. He immediately slid back into me and started a steady pace. My gasps and moans spurred him on. He grabbed my legs and pulled them over his shoulders, looking down at me lustfully.

I screamed his name as he began pounding into me unabashedly. “That's it baby girl. Give me everything you've got.” He slid his hands between us and began rubbing my clit. I exploded around him almost instantly. My walls squeezing him tight and he lost control. He began rutting into me wildly, nearing his own orgasm. He pounded harder and harder, faster and faster until he lost himself inside of me. He exploded with a wild groan and stilled inside me, releasing my legs, laying on top of me and burying his head in my hair.

I ran my hands over his back as he caught his breath. He rolled beside me, and I turned to face him. We stared at each other as we recovered, smiles on both of our faces. He reached up and put his hand on my cheek. “That was amazing, baby.” He said, and I moaned in agreement.

After a few minutes, he whispered, “Are you hungry ?”

I hadn't heard the food arrive. “Is it here?”

He chuckled, “Yeah. You were busy calling my name when it got here.” I blushed and groaned at that. “Go get cleaned up, baby girl. I'll get the food.” He laughed.

We had a picnic that night right there on our bed. The food was fantastic, but nothing could live up to the feelings I had for Joe. We laughed. We joked. We ate. We kissed. We cuddled. We loved.

[something-tofightfor]

Thanks to You

Pairing: Sam Adams x Reader

Word Count: 3238

Rating: PG-13? There’s some suggestion.

Author’s Note: Takes place in the Rebel in Love universe ... what happens when Mr. and Mrs. Dumpster Fire are tasked with hosting Thanksgiving? Some familiar faces show up, there’s a new addition to your family... and you eat a ton of food. 

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you in the United States. I know that I’m a few hours early, but since there’s a lot going on tomorrow, I figured I’d post it early. After all... is there anything better then Thanksgiving with an actual Founding Father? 

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche @traeumerinwitzhelden @agentlingerie

Sam Adams:

@damalseer @chibiyanai

Uncategorized: 

@banditthewriter @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @malik-payne @lynne1993 @ladyblablabla @dreamwritesimagines @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa @binbonsadoration @ms-delos @jeanettexkillian @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0 @projectcampbell @giggleberts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

“What would you like me to do?” Sam stood in the doorway, arms hanging down at his sides. “I feel like I’m not -” You set your knife down, closing your eyes and counting to five before you responded. “Just tell me what -”

“Samuel.” You said his name firmly, turning to face your husband. “You need to let me be.” The look that crossed his face was -for a moment - one of hurt, but then he recovered, setting his jaw. I didn’t mean… 

 “Fine I’ll take the dogs and -” Shaking your head, you stepped toward him, wiping one hand on your apron. 

 “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Stopping in front of Sam, you reached up to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek, smiling. “You’re of no use to me in the kitchen, Mr. Adams.” He was still scowling, but you saw one corner of his mouth twitch. “I didn’t marry you for your culinary skills.” you cocked your head to the side, wetting your lips. “I would like you to go and visit John, and perhaps Paul, too.” You sighed. “We need benches and a few tables, Sam.” He opened his mouth in surprise, the facade of irritation gone. “We’re meant to host dinner tomorrow, and we have nowhere for people to sit, perhaps they can help you with that.” Sam looked at you but didn’t say a word, his brown eyes giving nothing away. “What?” 

 “How is it,” he asked, ducking his head down to kiss you gently. “How is it that in only a little over a year, we’ve gone from being newlyweds to hosting such an event? Me? Samuel Adams?” You pressed your lips together, waiting. “Don’t people spend the day with their -”

 “They all want to spend it with you, Sam.” Your hand again rose, this time finding the ends of his hair, the shortest pieces hanging loose around his cheeks. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself, haven’t you?” You sighed, allowing yourself to smile and leaning in to press your chest against Sams. “And your reputation? No one remembers the rebel, or the smuggler. No one thinks of you as -” He cut you off with another kiss, this one more thorough than the first and you melted into him, feeling Sam’s free arm wrap around your waist and hold you close. 

 “I only want to spend it with you.” He wrinkled his nose, kissing you again briefly. “But having our friends here will be nice, too.” Sam sighed, clearing his throat. “What are we doing with the -”

 “Oh you mean my dog and your…” He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, the sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “Your-”

 “Tory isn’t just my dog.” Sam glanced out the window, his eyes following the movement of the two large animals as they chased each other through the early afternoon sunlight. “We bought her as a companion for Rogue, and -”

 “And she listens to no one but you, Samuel Adams, and acts like I don’t exist.” You swatted at him playfully, shaking your head as you turned back to the counter. “I know where her loyalties lie, and it’s certainly not with me or her brother.” He laughed as he stepped up behind you, his arms going around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

 “What are you making?” You’d picked up the knife again, using it to cut through the apples on the counter. “Apple… pie?” You shook your head once, picking up a slice of the tart green apple and lifting it to his lips without hesitation, turning your head to watch as he bit down on it before pulling your hand back and putting the remaining piece into your own mouth. 

 “No. Abigail is bringing the pies. I’m making cobbler.” You turned, kissing his lips and tasting your husband along with the fruit. “Because I know you like it better. Now go.” You elbowed him, lowering your head and returning to your task. “We need tables and benches for fiften.” Sam kissed your cheek quickly and then stepped back, whistling as he walked out the door and through the yard toward the barn.

 --- 

 Later that evening, you finished wiping the kitchen surfaces down, taking stock of all you’d completed. The crumble was baked and wrapped, you’d cubed the bread that you’d baked earlier in the week for stuffing, and the herbs were chopped and mixed in. The root vegetables were washed and ready to be peeled and cooked, and the turkey was soaking in brine, waiting to be stuffed and roasted. Others in that would be in attendance had been tasked with bringing additional dishes - Abigail was making the pies, your mother was baking cornbread and bringing the chestnuts and greens, Paul would be bringing Sam’s favorite; a large haunch of venison that would be roasted slowly over an outdoor fire from the moment the man arrived in the morning until it was time to eat… and the other attendees were bringing things too - cranberries and carrots, fresh butter, wine, beans, coffee … there would be plenty of food, you’d been assured, and though you’d chosen to prepare the (arguably) most important parts of the meal, you weren’t feeling overwhelmed. 

 Sam had come back with Paul in the early afternoon, a cart loaded down with wooden planks behind the men, and for hours, they’d locked themselves into the barn, the sound of laughter and hammers ringing across the yard and to your ears. Rogue and Tory had pawed at the door for their dinner, but both dogs had quickly finished eating and then begged to be let back outside to join the men. For Tory, it wasn’t a shock, but Rogue’s interest was a surprise. 

 You’d taken Sam and Paul a meal just before dark, bread and cheese and some salted meat, expecting them to thank you and then immediately turn back to the task at hand, but Sam had extended his hand to you even after taking the plate you held out to him - and you weren’t about to start denying him anything. You sat next to your husband on one of the newly constructed benches, taking with him and Paul as they ate, and Paul informed you that his wife Rachel would be bringing sweet potatoes and apples baked with cinnamon and sugar, and that she would be coming over with him early in the morning. “We’re gonna leave the tables and benches in the barn, just in case it rains.” Paul chewed quickly, gesturing to the half finished table behind you. “Gonna head home soon, get back to her, and then we’ll be back in plenty of time tomorrow.” 

 You glanced down, seeing that Tory was laying at Sam’s feet with her snout on one of his boots and rolled your eyes before looking back up at Paul. “Of course, go home. I’m sure she’s been expecting you.” Paul put his plate down, grinning and then stood, pointing to the open barn doors. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Paul. Thank you for your help.” Paul reached the door, pausing and then meeting Sam’s eyes. You looked between the two men, confused, but Paul chuckled, muttering. “I’ll bring it” under his breath before exiting the building. What was that about? When the man was gone, leaving you alone with Sam and the dogs, you turned to your husband, raising an eyebrow. “If it had only been you out here, Sam, I would have found a reason to come and watch you with that hammer.” He smirked at you, leaning closer to press his forehead against yours. “Guess I’ll have to find something else for you to build, hmm?” He nodded before straightening up and stretching, his long arms rising straight up and above his head before he rolled his neck. 

 “Let’s go to bed?” Shooting to your feet, you picked up Paul’s plate and then your husband’s, clicking your tongue at the dogs to get their attention. From the far corner of the barn, Rogue rose, trotting over to where you stood, but Tory stayed on the ground, her dark brown eyes - so much like Sam’s - locked on his face. You sighed but he laughed, nudging her with his boot. “C’mon, girl. Bedtime.” She stood, waiting for his next command, but didn’t move until Sam did, his free hand taking yours, fingers threading through to grip your hand tightly as he led you back to the house, a lantern in the kitchen window shining brightly. Halfway across the yard, Sam leaned over, lips next to your ear. “I’m not quite done usin’ my hands tonight.” 

 --- 

 Through no fault of your own, dinner the next day was delayed by nearly an hour as the turkey took longer than expected to roast, and some of the other dishes needed to be reheated before they could be served, too. While the men sat outside - it was cool but sunny, you and the other women busied yourselves in the kitchen, putting final touches on all of the food and ensuring that your cutlery, plates and cups were clean and presentable, and that there were enough linens available. While it wasn’t the first Thanksgiving after declaring Independence, it was the first where all of your friends and family could freely gather; Sam and John weren’t off in Philadelphia, Paul wasn’t riding back and forth between cities and encampments and Sam’s other friends - and yours - were free to do as they pleased. It was safe to gather, because the British were beginning to leave in droves, and there was much to celebrate. 

 As you and the other women carried the food out into the barn after making sure that the dogs were tied on the other side of the yard, each one chewing on a large piece of buck’s antler (courtesy of John and Abigail), the men settled into their seats, content to let you do what you needed to do. Once the dishes were placed atop the table and everyone was seated, Sam cleared his throat, looking to your father with a nervous smile on his face. “Sir?” Your father nodded, waiting. “Would you mind leading us in the prayer? Your daughter’s told me -”

 “Of course, Sam.” Smiling broadly, your father reached for your hand on one side and then your mother’s on the other, the entire table taking hands wordlessly. You felt Sam’s thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly as your father began to speak, reciting the same blessing you’d nearly memorized as you grew up, but as he reached the end, he took a deep breath. “And though we’re eternally grateful to you, Lord, for watching over us and keeping us safe, we’re also thankful for the time that we spent with those of us that are no longer among the living.” Sam’s grip tightened on your hand and you glanced over at him, noticing that he was still looking down, but was watching your father through his lashes, lips parted. “A great many have fought and died to honor this new country and her people, and among them are a few men that should be here right now.” 

 Sam sucked in a breath and you squeezed his hand tightly, your father going on to name Dr. Warren and Kelly first, then Christopher, followed by a few more explicitly, the other guests at the table murmuring quietly in agreement. Though you knew it was improper, you couldn’t help pulling your joined hands toward you, lips pressing against the tips of Sam’s fingers for a moment. I miss them too, Sam. Ending the blessing, your father raised his head - as did everyone else at the table - and after a few moments of silence where your husband’s eyes were locked on your father’s in silent thanks, your mother sighed and then smiled brightly. “Let’s eat.” 

 That was all it took, and as everyone dropped hands and began serving themselves, you turned on the bench to look at Sam, sitting at the head of the table, a pensive expression on his face. “You alright, Mr. Adams?” He paused before he answered but when he did, he sounded relieved, speaking in a low but steady voice. 

 “I am.” He reached up to rub at his face. “I don’t… think of them as memories, you know? But your father was right, they should be here and they aren’t. And we are, and…” His shoulders slumped. “They would have loved to see this, to -”

 “They would have, Sam.” You squeezed his hand again. “But now we live for them, and we celebrate for them, and we honor them… thanks to you.” You leaned in, speaking so that only Sam could hear. “Everything you do for these United States is for them as much as it is for all of us.” You stared into Sam’s eyes and watched as the troubled expression changed to one of resolve - one that you’d seen countless times, one that you loved. It’ll be alright, Samuel Adams. He nodded at you, pressing his lips together. “But right now? If you don’t load up that plate and tell me that my turkey is the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted… we’re going to have -”

 Sam’s laugh rang out through the barn as he pulled his hand from yours and reached for the basket filled with bread, grinning. That’s what I thought. 

 ---

 A few hours later, most of your guests had left, riding toward their homes after thanking you and Sam for hosting, taking covered dishes of the leftovers (of which there weren’t many; your guests had eaten their fill and then some) and bidding you goodnight. John, Abigail, Paul and Rachel were the only ones still seated in the barn with you, the large table pulled apart into sections and a smaller one in front of you with a deck of cards spread out atop it. Sam excused himself, gripping your shoulder for a moment before he turned and walked away, and though you wondered where he was off too, Abigail distracted you with a story about shopping in Boston earlier in the week. 

 After a few minutes, Sam came back into the barn and you heard a clinking noise. What does he have? “I’ve been working on something.” Sam spoke as he approached the table, setting a jug down with a thunk, followed by six pewter mugs. “Well, we’ve been working on it.” Paul laughed again and Rachel tilted her head to look at her husband and then at you and Abigail. What? “It’s nothing right now, not really, but this is the first … and I wanted to…” Sam uncorked the jug before picking it up by the handle, tilting it over the first mug. “We’re brewing at the Green Dragon right now, but…” Beer? He’s brewing… Sam filled the mugs in turn and then slid them across the table one by one. “Tell me if it’s terrible, I’ve never done this before, but we made a recipe…” 

 “Don’t tell me if it’s terrible.” Paul spoke up, holding the mug in the air. “Lie to me.” All of you laughed, but before you took a drink, you looked at Sam. Wait. 

 “Sam?” He paused with the mug halfway to his lips. “Can we make a toast?” He swallowed and you looked away, meeting the eyes of the others. “It’s no secret that this… getting here has been a struggle… but we’re here now. And we need to honor the sacrifice that our friends - our family members - have made.” You took a breath, looking back at Sam. “I cannot think of a better way to do that than to raise a mug - on Thanksgiving - of the very first batch of a beer that you, Samuel Adams, my husband brewed in remembrance.” The others were quiet and then Paul cleared his throat, lifting his mug. 

 “To Kelly.” John nodded, lifting his own drink. 

 “To Christopher.” Rachel and Abigail joined the men, holding the metal in the air. 

 “To Joseph.” Sam’s mug met the others in the middle, yours clinking against it quietly. 

 “To all of you - all of us.” You nodded, meeting the eyes of each of your friends in turn. “We’ve sacrificed so much, but we’ve…” You looked at Sam, the smile on your face genuine. “We’ve gained a great deal more at the same time.” 

 “Cheers!” Sam nodded, and the six of you knocked the rims of your mugs against each other before raising them to your lips. As you took a long swallow of your husband’s beer, your eyes widened. It’s strong. The seriousness of the prior conversation all but forgotten as you congratulated Sam and Paul on their endeavor, your husband’s cheeks growing red in embarrassment, the six of you returned to your card game. Time passed and you finished the jug of ale, laughing and joking together until Abigail pulled John to his feet, suggesting that they go home. Paul and Rachel were soon to follow, and though he’d had just as much as anyone else, Paul was the one who guided his wife from the barn and to their wagon, holding her elbow tightly to help her balance, though she giggled the entire way across the lawn. 

 Once it was just the two of you, Sam caught your wrist as you went to exit the barn, the mugs and empty jug still on the table. “Sam?” 

 “Thank you for today.” His words slow and deliberate, Sam stepped toward you, hand sliding up your arm. “It means something different than it did just a few years ago.” You nodded, watching as Sam eyed you. Neither of you were drunk, but the alcohol had you feeling warm despite the cool temperature, and the feeling of Sam’s fingers on your arm kept you grounded. “Dance with me?” You closed your eyes, ducking your head and without thinking, you and Sam adjusted your positions, one of his hands moving to your waist and the other palm pressing flat against your back as your arms wound around his neck. “I never thought I’d have so much to be grateful for.” He spun you slowly, your feet moving over the scattered hay and sawdust on the floor. “You prove me wrong every day, Mrs. Adams.” 

 “As do you, Mr. Adams.” You used one hand to pull the leather strap from his hair and tucked it into your sleeve before using your fingers to comb through Sam’s long locks, aware of the tightening of his grip on you as your nails gently raked over his scalp. “You proved everyone wrong, Sam.” His hand moved up your back and slid against your neck, fingers curved around the base of your skull. “I love you.” 

 “I love you, too,” Sam murmured as he lowered his mouth to meet yours, lips pressing together in a kiss that made you feel warmth throughout your entire body as you stepped closer to your husband. “So much.” Me too, Sam. When you finally pulled apart, still swaying gently where you stood, you pulled one hand from Sam’s hair, trailing your hand down his chest and letting it rest over his heart. 

 “Sam?” He raised an eyebrow, the light of the lantern low but still allowing you to see the expression on his face - skirting the line between a smile and a smirk, eyes full of admiration. “I think it’s time you take your wife to bed.” 

 ---

[cripplinganxietyflix]

I saw It Comes At Night

It Comes At Night has been in theaters, at the time of this writing, for about two days, and already it seems to be the most polarizing film of the year thus far. I’m sure anybody who saw the way it was marketed and then watched the film can understand why. I decidedly only watched the initial teaser trailer for this movie, didn’t read about it on the internet other than that Joel Edgerton would be the lead and Trey Edward Shults would be directing. This is, in part, because I did that recently with The Void, and I’m really thankful for it, and I’m trying to make a bigger effort to continue to go into things blind with few or no expectations. 

If you haven’t seen Joel Edgerton’s other fling with the “horror but not like horror horror” genre, The Gift, I highly recommend you do so now. Another film I saw in theaters without seeing literally any promotional material, The Gift is a sadly overlooked gem from 2015 about a childless couple who move into a new house and run into someone from the husband’s past. The husband conveys to the wife that he doesn’t want this stranger (played by Edgerton) hanging around, and it’s basically up to the wife to find out why. It’s an excellent, very fucked up thriller with a pretty shocking end that I certainly didn’t see coming. Edgerton is great as the creepy, stalking stranger, and he’s also a total surprise as the film’s director. I mean it. I didn’t know he directed it until I Google fu’d it a minute ago. 

Another film I would consider “required viewing” going into this is Trey Edward Shults’ first movie, Krisha, which I included on my list of favorite films I watched in 2016. While it’s categorized as a drama/dark comedy, I put it in my horror list- because for those of us with a little dysfunction in our families, it is mind-numbingly, hand-wringingly horrifying. Krisha stars mostly non-actors, including the director’s aunt (IIRC) in the title role. It details a recovering alcoholic’s return to the family she ghosted on for a Thanksgiving dinner. It doesn’t go well. When I say this is required viewing, I mean it. Krisha is as non-traditional as horror films go, and I feel very similarly about It Comes At Night. 

I suppose, based on the trailer, that I expected some kind of supernatural/walking dead aspect to the film going in. Let me take a second to outright demolish that preconception- this is not a monster movie, it’s not a ghost movie, it’s not got anything fantastical or even out of the realm of possibility in it. In fact, it’s a fairly stripped-down, barebones outbreak film. And, for what it is, it’s great.

The film is about Paul, his wife Sarah, and their teenage son Travis. They live with their dog, and Sarah’s father, in a big boarded-up cabin in the woods. Right away it becomes pretty clear that Grampa’s got a potent superbug, because they have to handle him with gloves and respirators, and quite early on, they’ve got to take him out back and shoot him like Ol’ Yeller. Father Paul is utilitarian, practical, a little controlling, and does what needs to be done to avoid infection and ensure survival. When a looter, Will, breaks in, he’s caught and explains himself to Paul- that he also has a family in need of supplies, that he thought the house was abandoned, that he means no harm, and that he’d be happy to trade food for some water. Paul and Sarah reason that they shouldn’t kill him in case he’s got people waiting out, they shouldn’t send him on his way lest he come back with a posse to kill them, and reason that the best option is for Paul to leave with Will and bring Will’s family back to the cabin so that they can share resources and work together. When Paul and Will come back with Will’s wife and son, Kim and Andrew, the real horror of the film unfolds- not the disease that seems to have decimated society, but the nature of humanity itself. 

It Comes At Night is a horror film, but further down the Antichrist end of the spectrum and not remotely close to the land of The Conjuring or Insidious. It’s a psychological thriller that uses muted, dreamy photography and contemplative scenes (long shots of dead bodies lying in a ditch, mundane conversations between normal people) to build dread and tension. Already there is precariously placed trust between Paul’s family and Will’s, and it seems just a matter of circumstance before these people become desperate and murderous. There are very few jump scares (maybe two or three), and they aren’t ones that I think most horror fans will roll their eyes at. Paul’s son Travis has trouble sleeping and lots of nightmares that make it hard to distinguish how much of the fear and distress is real and how much is imagined. He has dreams of his dead grandfather oozing black blood from his dead face and dreams of becoming infected that seem prophetic. Outside of Travis’s dreams, there is nothing that happens on screen that couldn’t happen in real life during a catastrophic epidemic. All of the horrors are real and fully human- murder, betrayal, mercy killing, etc. The film is exceptionally dark- as in, what an old house looks like at night when the power goes out. If you’re uncomfortable wandering around with no light and a germophobe like me, this movie is going to kick your ass. 

I’m about to get into some critical details of the movie and don’t recommend reading further if you’re planning to watch it. 

One aspect of this movie that people are really up in arms about is the matter of the open door(s). Who the fuck opened the door? Shults leaves this completely and utterly up to the imagination of the viewer. The cabin has a “clean room” that has one exterior door, and one interior door into the house, and Paul claims to have the keys to these doors, and that he always keeps them locked. However, they also have sliding bolt latches. Near the end of the film, Travis wakes from a nightmare, walks through the dark house to find that Andrew, who is probably about four or five, has wandered away from the room Will and Kim are sleeping in, and has fallen asleep in the grandpa’s old bedroom. Travis leads Andrew back to his parents, but as he is returning to bed, he sees that the red door that leads into the makeshift clean room is open. The whole house is alerted, and Paul and Will discover the dog, Stanley, is hemorrhaging blood and dying on the floor within the room. Both doors are now open, and there’s no telling who opened them, how the dog got in, or if Andrew or Travis touched the sick dog. This event is what leads to a bloodlessly violent and dour ending for everyone involved, but the question remains- WHO OPENED THE FUCKING DOOR!?

I think, first of all, that we have to assume Paul (probably unintentionally) left both doors unlocked with just the bolt latches secured, if at all. I think it’s likely that Andrew or Travis opened both doors, although I’m leaning toward Travis. I think that, as established throughout the film, Travis was having a nightmare, heard the dog at the exterior door, and let him in. I think it’s likely this is where he became infected, and he then possibly infected Andrew when he found him misplaced and led him back to his room. The other possibility is that Andrew was just barely tall enough to reach the latches and opened the doors while sleepwalking. I think that it’s also possible that Will opened both doors and let the dog in hoping that Paul’s family would become sickened, and his family would be able to take the house and supplies for themselves. After all, they never show that Will’s son Andrew is sick, and his family is in an incredible rush to leave the house shortly after the dog is found. Perhaps they wanted to leave and hide out in the woods until Paul, Sarah and Travis are dead. Even further, it is possible SOMEONE ELSE ENTIRELY got the dog into the house hoping to sabotage the inhabitants. After all, we never actually see what Stanley the dog went running after in the woods and we never see what Travis thinks that he heard. Any one of these things is a possibility, and I think it was a bold choice on Shults’ part to leave it ambiguous and up to the viewer. I guess that, realistically, it doesn’t really matter WHO actually opened the doors. What matters is what happens after, when no one trusts anyone else, and no one knows who might be infected and who isn’t. We never actually find out if Andrew is infected, however we do find out by the end that Travis was. Therefore, at this point I think Travis is the most likely culprit. I think that Shults tries to lay enough clues to lead to this assumption, and if there is one weakness in the film, it is here- that perhaps a little more could have been done to make any of these inferences a little more likely. After all, why did Paul leave the doors unlocked at all in the first place? If Andrew opened the doors, why didn’t he mention the dog to his parents while Travis is eavesdropping? If Travis opened the doors, how is it that he didn’t react to his dog being in such a tragic state, even if he was sleepwalking? If it was someone else, how might it have happened if the latches were shut? I loved that this was left up in a dizzying, mysterious place, but I would have liked a slightly thicker trail of breadcrumbs for me to get there. 

At any rate, I think the creepiest part of the movie is that Travis essentially predicts his death, by dreaming about all the most impossible of horrors, even though the real threat seems so mundane and unlucky by comparison. It’s not a reanimated corpse that kills him. It’s SOME contact with the plague that we never see, because that’s how plagues work. I like that we never find out if Andrew was truly sick. I love how hopeless and depressing the whole thing is. It seems really fitting for the times we’re living in. 

I can’t recommend this movie enough if you like your horror movies atmospheric, preponderous, suggestive and difficult to digest. If you’re sick of artificial jump scares every eight and a half formulaic minutes, this might be right in line with your needs. If you need exposition and spoon-feeding, I wouldn’t spend a cent to watch it and recommend instead that you spend the evening screening Wonder Woman or Guardians of the Galaxy, which I’m sure are entertaining and likely to give you a good time. It Comes At Night may seem deceptively titled (I don’t think that it is) and deceptively marketed (absolutely). I think the title fits because Travis’s prophetic nightmares are where the horror is. It is still one of the most uncomfortable, effective horror movie experiences I’ve had in a while and would place it a shelf below the likes of The Witch and Get Out. It’s a straightforward movie with an unsettling score, photography that brings to mind the term “brain fog” (I’m a chronic sufferer, if it’s not evident in my scatterbrained reviews) in the best way, and it feels very vividly real. Not a single thing in this movie is outlandish or supernatural. While I appreciated the care taken to let me figure things out on my own, even I would have liked a few more definitives. I also would have liked a longer film; I think it wouldn’t have suffered from an extra 29 minutes, but all things considered it’s a minor complaint. I highly recommend it, if only to those who don’t mind the lion’s share of the detective work placed in their hands and those who are tired of the standard horror narrative. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty close to what this particular asshole likes in a movie. 

★ ★ ★ ★ ☆