#been having the worst run of bedtimes and really feeling the effects (why do I do this? eh... multiple reasons but it is not helpful)

[brown-little-robin]

🥱...

[suneeater]

making it up to you + bokuto

✉︎request: Konnichiwa! I just stumbled on your blog and slightly stalked it too ^^ I would like to request a few dating headcanons for Bokuto Kotarou and possibly how he would make it up to you after a fight? Thank you mwahh <3 (@satoruswifeyyy)

✎a/n: our very first request omg!!! this made us all so happy to see ilysm <3 im so glad you enjoy our content! we def don't mind stalking our blog lol. also i got like super carried away and this is basically a full on drabble. oops!

✰warnings: cursing, fighting, hurt/comfort

Fighting with Bokuto never happens; the two of you argue, but you don’t fight. Neither of you have it in you to be cruel to the other, and it’s hard to find a reason with Bokuto that you’d really even be mad at him to the point of fighting. On the rare occasion that you are mad at him, it’s easy to sort things out before they even have the chance to escalate

But things had been different recently, and it’s left the both of you stressed and overwhelmed. With his career suddenly skyrocketing, and you facing your own struggles with work, it’s been hard for the two of you to spend any quality time together

You start communicating less and less, focusing purely on making it through the day. It doesn’t help that the limelight has been on him recently, and he’s started to garner all sorts of public attention and cultivate a growing fanbase. You’d love to lie and say you’re happy for him, but the truth is that it leaves you feeling insecure. Now that he’s really becoming someone, will he still need you? 

It’s like he doesn’t even notice that you’re feeling the effects of it all, but you’re not sure if it’s right to blame him. He’s been so absorbed in practices and games and training, learning how to balance it all on top of now having a public reputation to moderate and maintain. He’s always been so good about checking in on you, but everythings changing all at once and it’s like you’ve been cast to the very back of his mind

All the stress and insecurity explodes one night. It begins with a simple conversation, but the bitter undertones of feeling abandoned light a spark that’s never been present in your previous arguments, and with every remark it grows until you’re in a full on fight with each other

Before you know it you’re in a screaming match, “How could you just ignore me? Are you seriously so busy you can’t even answer my phone calls? You’re not like this, why have you changed?”

“Jesus, I thought you’d be supporting me. You know how fucking hard I’ve worked; this is just part of it, why don’t you understand that?”

You go back and forth for what feels like hours, going in circles and repeating yourselves just a little louder each time as if whoever can yell the loudest will be able to get it through the other’s skull

The final straw is when Bokuto has had enough; he’s been exerting himself all day long and simply doesn’t have the energy to continue a fight you picked with him as soon as he walked through the door. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t recognize. “Whether I even met you or not, I’d still be here today. I don’t need you for this”.

Stunned, you freeze. Your next remark dies on your tongue and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Without another word, you retreat upstairs to the bedroom. 

When he sees the way your face contorts in response to his words is when he knows he messed up. Bad. All of the anger in him is suddenly gone at the realization that he’s hurt you; not just because of what he said, either. Letting it sink in, you had every reason to be upset with him, and he can’t believe he was too dense to even think about how you may be right. God, he’s the worst

He wants to run up after you, but all he can do is sink down to the couch and think about everything he said to you. He can’t get the phrase out of his head. I don’t need you? 

What a lie

You shut the door as softly as you can, occupying yourself with a bedtime routine to keep yourself from crying. Your cheeks aching from the way you bite them when tears prickle the corners of your eyes, you settle into bed when there’s a knock at the door

But you pay it no response, feigning ignorance. You can’t stop thinking about what he said. Your worst fear was just confirmed; he doesn’t need you. Now that he’s on the rise, he doesn’t need you. Not anymore

He comes in anyways, creeping into the bed beside you. You keep your back to him, careful not to move. You know he can tell that you aren’t asleep, but you ignore him anyway. It hurts too much to even be perceived by him

On top of the covers, he stares daggers into the back of your head, pleading with you. “Baby- baby please. I’m so sorry”

The seconds feel like hours. He can’t stop letting it ring in his ears and it’s so shrill, it hurts. What’s going through your mind? Do you hate him now? Are you going to leave him- oh god, it probably sounded like he was breaking up with you. He wants to reach out and touch you so bad, and it’s taking everything in him to restrain himself as to not further disturb you

But when he sees the way your pillow dampens and can finally hear sniffles over his own pounding heart, he breaks. Snatching you into his arms, you see tears pool in his own eyes

“I don’t know why I said that - I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know, I didn’t mean it, god I’m just so stressed. Of fucking course I need you, y/n… I need you like I need air, I don’t know why I said that”. 

Unable to avoid eye contact with him, you can’t hold back anymore. Sobbing, you struggle to choke out your words. “Am I… am I not enough for you anymore?”

Oh my god, is that what he made you think? He’s almost too stunned to respond, his hold on you tightening. He has to momentarily hide his face away in the crook of your neck, ashamed to cry after what he did to you. “Oh god, babe, yes you are. You’re always enough - more than enough. Nothing will change that…”

Wiping his eyes clear, he moves one hand to cup your face, directing your vision to his. “I never meant for any of this; not to leave you so lonely… God, I didn’t mean any of that. You’re what got me through this, please… Even if I were to get here without you I wouldn’t be the same, y/n… I’d be miserable without you”. 

Sighing, avert your gaze from his again. It’s overwhelming. “Kotaro… I didn’t mean to pick a fight. I’ve just been so lonely, you know? And you won’t pick up the phone, and I’ve been so stressed too; except it didn’t feel like you were there for me”.

“I know, I know… I’m so sorry. It was all unintentional… You’re always on the forefront of my mind, I’m just… not thinking. It’s a big change…” He can’t help but sniffle. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Letting his words sink into your eases your tensed muscles, and you fall deeper into his embrace. Truth is, you wanted to forgive him the minute he knocked on the door. You felt in your gut that he’d be taking it all back; after all, this fight was so unlike him. But that’s what made it so scary, too. 

“I think I already have. But hey-” you playfully punch him in the arm. “Don’t ever say some stupid shit like that again, yeah?”

He smiles, but it’s much softer than his typically toothy grin, bittersweet and genuine. You spend the rest of the night trying to make it up to each other, with him rubbing gentle circles on your tear stained cheeks, hoping to ease the raw sensation you’d imposed by wiping so many tears away. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep beside him, Bokuto murmuring in your ear a million apologies he hopes will creep into your subconscious. It’s only in the morning that he can make himself pull away from you for just a second, but the moment he does he’s pulling at his phone and calling in sick. Sure, his job is important, but he’s lovesick and can’t do a damn thing about it

[plaidbooks]

SFW Alphabet - Nick Amaro

Requested by no one, but whenever I’m stuck on a fic, I seem to turn to headcanons, so here we are. I hope y’all enjoy some Nick headcanons!

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm​ @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @stardust-fray​ @permanentlydizzy​ @infiniteoddball​ @ben-c-group-therapy​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @barbasimp​

(gif by @dwaynepride)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Nick’s pretty affectionate—he likes to sit with you on the couch after a long day, arm wrapped around your shoulders. His love language is words of affirmation, so he’s constantly giving you compliments and telling you how much you mean to him. He also loves massaging you, whether your neck, shoulders, back, or simply your calves.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Nick’s always there for you if you need him. He’s mastered the art of listening to you vent and rage, or just sitting with you in silent comfort, whichever you need. You met Nick while at the park—he was with one (or both) of his kids, just a bonding day, playing. You were walking your neighbor’s dog at the time, and the kid(s) became enamored with it, asking to pet and play with it. The dog needed a good run, and what better way than with a child? So, you let it off the leash, and you and Nick idly chatted while watching them play. You quickly exchanged numbers, so that the kid(s) and dog could play again some time (and so Nick could have an excuse to talk to you)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Nick likes to cuddle on the couch, but more so in bed. The only problem with cuddling on the couch is that one or both of you have to get up too often. In bed, however, he can hold you close to him for hours, his nose nuzzled against your neck.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nick’s always been in a relationship—he doesn’t know how to not be. That being said, he hates cooking. He does it (and does it well), but it’s his least favorite thing to do. As for cleaning, he’s a bit of a neat-freak. He’s gotten Zara good at cleaning up her own mess (though her room is a different story), and he’s on top of messes in the house. He’s quick to clean anything that happens, and knows how to mix chemicals safely and effectively to clean any stain.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nick would keep his cool, collected façade the whole time—in person, of course. But, as soon as he’s alone, he breaks down crying. He’d be civil about it, making sure to get your things back to you quickly and efficiently so that you don’t have to go to his place.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

After Maria, he’s a little wary about marriage. He doesn’t want to make any mistakes again, so he’ll take it slow. He’d make sure you were really the one before proposing, and even then, he’d wait to marry you. And unless you were really into a big wedding, he’d probably just take you to a small chapel, with his mom, Zara and Gil, and your family as witnesses. But he doesn’t necessarily believe you have to be married to be in love.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

For the most part, Nick is gentle as can be. Because of his upbringing, he knows what it’s not to not have that. Though, sometimes work can get to be too much, and he’ll come home pissed, yelling and screaming. Once his anger passes, however, he’s apologizing profusely, holding you and caressing you gentler than ever. Even so, no matter how mad he gets, he’d never think to raise a hand to you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Nick loves hugs, even if he won’t admit it. He’ll hug you on days you need it, rubbing your back and resting his head on yours. And on days he needs it? He won’t ask for a hug, but if you do hug him on rough days, he fucking melts against you. Sometimes, he forgets how much love and affection can be in such a soft touch, especially if he’s expecting something rougher, more violent.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him a little bit to say it, but he shows it quickly. It’s evident in everything he does. And after he finally mutters it to you, it’s as if he’s seeing a door that was painted the same color as the walls. Of course, he loves you! Why didn’t he say it earlier? No matter, now he has all the time in the world to make it up to you, saying it constantly.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Nick is the epitome of jealous. He trusts you, sure, but he doesn’t trust anyone else. If a man so much as looks at you for too long, Nick will wrap himself around you, pulling you in for a dominating kiss. And if it’s a friend/coworker looking at you? Well, then that just means Nick has to take you home and mark you as his, so that those prying eyes will see his mark on your neck.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Nick’s kisses as rough and dominating, yet somehow tender and full of passion. His lips are soft against yours, his hands cupping your face, neck, hips, ass, pulling you closer to him. But his tongue is in your mouth, massaging yours, leaving you completely breathless by the time he releases you. Besides on the lips, Nick loves kissing your hands/knuckles/arms. He watched Tom ‘n’ Jerry as a kid, and saw that one episode(s) where Tom kisses the girl cat from hand up her arm to her face, and he loves doing that to you, especially because it makes you giggle.

Nick has a ticklish neck and loves when you kiss/nibble his neck/throat. It makes him laugh and he feels so warm and loved. And if you mark him? He plays it off as if he’s embarrassed, but he secretly loves it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Nick’s the best dad! He has infinite patience with both his kids, never getting mad with them. Yes, he can be strict with them, but that’s only to make sure they’re taught right. He’s also never too tired after work or on days off to play with them, or read a bedtime story (for Zara). His only downfall is that he can’t be around them more. Nick also embarrasses them both with the worst dad jokes.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

On days that he works, Nick Is up early, making sure Zara is ready for school (if he has her). Then he’s shaved, dressed, and ready for work. He makes breakfast for both of you (and Zara, if she’s there), and then is on his way.

On his days off, and without Zara, Nick will stay in bed with you, waking you up with sleepy morning sex. If he can get away with staying in bed until noon, he will. Otherwise, he’ll get up and ready for whatever he needs to get done that day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sometimes, Nick needs to be held. When the cases are bad, or when he wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares of his childhood, he’ll sob softly against you while you cuddle with him, telling him how much you love him.

Other nights, Nick will take you to bed and spend half the night rememorizing your body, the noises you make. He’s gentle, tender, whether you have sex or not. If not, he’ll just caress your skin with his big, warm hands, massaging you muscles slowly. And if you do have sex, then he’s slow, loving, his touch tender against you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Nick’s pretty guarded—he’s been hurt before and is afraid to be hurt again. He’ll tell you important things first, like that he has two kids, and that’s divorced, but you won’t learn about either mom for months. He’ll also tell you he’s a detective, but he won’t tell you what department, nor what kinds of cases he gets. He compartmentalizes his work life and his home life. It’s not until he gets super defensive around his kids that you can put two and two together.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Surprisingly, Nick’s not easily angered…at least in his home life. He’s quick to anger if his children or family are threatened, but otherwise, he’s pretty chill. That being said, things at work, and his conversations with Maria, can get under his skin easier than anything else. But once he blows off some steam, he’s pretty quick to apologize, making it up to you or anyone else that was a recipient of his verbal lashings.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Nick’s brain is a steel trap. He remembers most things, even little details you didn’t think were important. Sometimes, though, he gets his facts a little mixed up (“I thought you said you loved ranch?” “Yeah, only as a dipping sauce, not as a salad dressing”). But he obviously tries, and you’re shocked that his years as a father didn’t completely destroy his brain.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Nick got called in on his day off, and his mother was busy. In desperation, he called you to watch Zara, which you happily accepted. You had a great day with her, and she loved hanging out with you. When Nick finally came to pick her up, she didn’t really want to leave. “Can I come stay with Auntie [y/n] again? I love her!” Zara said. Nick picked her up, holding her against his side, heart swelling. “Uh, I don’t know. Would you like—” “I’d love to watch Zara again. Anytime,” you replied, and Nick fell completely in love with you at that moment.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Nick tries to make every date special, he really does. But if he had a dollar for every time he got called away halfway through a date, then Zara would be able to afford college no problem. If you’ve been dating for a long time, then he’ll slowly start giving up—though, he’d be sure to do at least something special that night. Gifts are always special with Nick—he puts extra thought into every single one, and they’re all incredibly touching.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Nick relies on takeout too much. Man hates cooking, and since he doesn’t have Zara 24/7 anymore, he doesn’t eat super healthy anymore. Which isn’t a problem for him—he goes to the gym and works out. It’s becoming a problem for you though. He also tends to turn to alcohol if he’s had a bad day.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Nick is well shaven and keeps good hygiene. It’s not that he’s concerned with his looks, it’s just simply taking care of himself. Sometimes, he’ll let the scruff grow out into a neatly trimmed beard, mostly because he knows you love it. But this man was slumming in Narcotics for a bit—he doesn’t care what he looks like, as long as he’s dressed for the correct occasion.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Once you’ve joined his family, you’re a part of the Amaro clan. It’s not so much that he would feel incomplete (though he would), but he wouldn’t know how to tell Zara. Poor girl has already had so much heart break in her short life; she doesn’t need to deal with that again.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Nick loves watching cartoons with Zara. He’ll sigh and roll his eyes when she picks out a movie or show to watch, but he sings along with the opening credits, and has matching shirts with the characters on them with Zara (you are to never tell anyone that). You once came home while Nick was off and Zara with her mom, and he scrambled to change the channel from Spongebob to sports, but you had already caught him red-handed.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Nick will never be with someone who’s abusive, whether verbally, emotionally, or physically. While he understands venting and releasing pent up anger, he’s dealt with that for too many years of his life to deal with it from a partner. And if you so much as looked at Zara or Gil wrong, you’re done.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Whether it’s paternal instincts or because he’s been in a relationship so long, you don’t know, but if you and Nick are in bed together, he’s touching you. More often than not, he’s wrapping his limbs around you, holding you close. It’s only rarely that his back will be pushed against you. No matter how hot it is in the room, Nick is on you.

[moonknightly]

Hey Love : Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K. This is short for me I’m soRRY!

Request: “fluffy family nap with Poe & your two tiny little humans after he comes back from a long mission?”

A/N: I kind of strayed away from the request but close enough I guess. 

Warnings: I swore, what’s new

It wasn’t ideal, raising a child in the middle of a war. On a base on a planet so far away from home, nonetheless. There already wasn’t enough time in a single day to achieve what needed to get done, and why would you willingly bring a life into the midst of something so violent and terrible? No, it wouldn’t be fair. A life full of running and fighting and hiding was no life for a child, or for anyone, really. And not only that, but a child would only serve as a distraction. Just one more thing to add to the ever growing list of things that could be ripped out from under you at any moment. Just another thing to lose.

But from the moment you found out that you were pregnant, you knew that there was no other option. Poe knew there was no other option. You both would raise your baby as best as you could, given the less than perfect circumstances.

Gods, neither of you could imagine having done anything different now.

She was perfect, your daughter. She looked just like you, though she had Poe’s dark head of raven hair. At three years old now, she didn’t seem to be anywhere close to entering the terrible toddler stage everyone had warned him about. She hadn’t been a difficult baby at all.

Of course, you both hadn’t been able to raise her alone. You had gotten a lot of help from fellow comrades in that department. You and Poe were both pilots, and both still so dedicated to the Resistance and everything that it stood for. You had certainly taken a step back from missions, taking the extra precautions to be more careful and less reckless than you had been before, but the frequency of your tasks didn’t seem to change much. You both still spent a decent time away from the base, and away from the little family you had created.

Sure, you stayed back every now and again, as did Poe, perfectly trusting in the other pilots capability to make sure that the others made it home safely. But you couldn’t completely give it up, neither of you could.

Poe had forced you sit this one out, though.

It was a dangerous mission, one that actually had Poe taking the time to prepare himself to lose someone, or to not make it back himself. It wasn’t often that he found himself doing that sort of thing.

You, of course, had insisted on going with him.

And he, of course, had refused to let you anywhere near the mission.

The fight that had ensued had been one of your worst, you both could at the very least agree on that. Harsh words, tears, and the silent treatment were just the beginning of it.

You had been the one to cave, eventually. And Poe had known exactly how to get you to do so.

“I don’t want our daughter to grow up without at least one of us.”

And you had known that it went even deeper than that. You knew that he had been thinking of his upbringing, most of his adolescence spent without his mother, and how he didn’t want that for your daughter. That’s what made you finally give in to his request.

But now, as you continued to wait for him to return, hours after schedule, you couldn’t help but regret it. Just a bit.

Night had fallen, shrouding the base in darkness. You were standing just outside of the hangar, watching the stars, waiting for any sign of the familiar X-Wing entering the atmosphere. But there was nothing. Only stars and moons and a heavy weight in your arms.

“Mommy?” your daughter, Layken, mumbled from her place against your chest. She slowly lifted her head from your shoulder, turning her tiny face to gaze up at the sky herself.

“When is Daddy coming home?”

“He’ll be back soon, baby,” you whispered, slowly beginning to rock her back and forth.

She only nodded, putting her head back in it’s spot. Soon enough, her breathing evened out, and you gently sighed.

It was way past her bedtime, and getting cold out. You knew you needed to get her to bed.

But you allowed yourself just five more minutes to be selfish.

The sound of the door sliding open didn’t wake you, much to the pleasure of Poe. He stopped in the entryway to your quarters, completely out of breath from having just run through the entire base. He put his hands on his knees, bending over and allowing himself a moment to calm his racing heart, though his eyes never left your sleeping form.

His two favorite girls.

He had never been so happy to see the both of you.

You were on his side of the bed, your head on his pillow while Layken laid in your arms, her face buried in your chest. He smiled, letting out an almost silent laugh at the relief that flooded his body. For a moment, just a moment, he thought he might’ve lost the chance to ever see you again.

Straightening, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and quietly moved through the room. He slowly began to undress himself, not really caring where his clothes landed as long as they were off. You still didn’t move, even as he accidentally kicked your nightstand. He cursed gently, rubbing his stubbed toe for just a moment before climbing into your side of the bed.

He tried not to jostle the bed too much as he moved closer to you and Layken, and he thought that he would actually be able to get to sleep without waking either of you, but your eyes were now open, and wider than he had seen them in a long time.

He quickly held a finger up to his lips, reminding you to be quiet. 

“Hey, love.”

The adorable gesture and the petname that never failed to cause a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in your stomach made you want to laugh, but instead, you found a tear sliding down your cheek.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Poe whispered, sliding in even closer to you, Layken now completely sandwiched between you both. She still didn’t wake.

“Poe, I was so scared. You were late and-”

“I know sweetheart, I know. I’m here now, it’s okay, I’m here.”

You spent the next few minutes crying in relief, and Poe spent that time pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mumbling gentle, reassuring words into your ear.

You had been so utterly terrified, and you hadn’t realized to what extent until you felt his arms around you again. Until you felt his breath fan across your face. Until you felt all of the love he harbored for you radiate from his warm skin. You had never been so relieved, and so thankful. You were pretty sure you thanked every higher power you could think of in that moment for getting him home safely.

You eventually calmed yourself, letting Poe do most of the work for you as you shifted your complete focus to him.

“There’s my girl,” he mumbled, affectionately squeezing your hand you hadn’t realized he was holding.

“My handsome pilot,” you smiled, returning his gesture.

He sighed, relishing in the feeling that rolled down his spine at your simple words. He maneuvered himself slightly, bending his head to press a lingering kiss to the top of Layken’s hair.

“My other girl.”

“She missed you too, you know.”

“I missed you both. Gods, I missed you so fucking much.”

You smiled again, but it quickly vanished when you felt your daughter squirm in your arms.

She rolled herself over, and you thought that maybe, she had just been resituating. But judging from the subtle twinkle you noticed in Poe’s eyes, and his growing, goofy grin, Layken had woken up.

“Daddy?”

“Hey there, princess.”

“You came home!” she yelled, throwing her arms excitedly around her father’s neck.

Poe laughed, kissing her cheek as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Of course I came home. What, did you think I was going to run off with BB or something?”

He only laughed harder when she nodded her head.

You gently sat up as well, only for Poe to pull you back into his arms, effectively pinning you to his side. A lazy grin broke out across your face as a giggle fell from your lips. Poe kissed your templed before he quickly tickled your side, only to do the same to Layken after you finally pushed him off of you.

You sat there, content and happy with your little family, on a planet so far away from home that was slowly starting to become one.

[sanderssides-springfling]

The Frogman

For @space-mothman 

Synopsis- Analogical cryptid-hunting AU in which they search for the mysterious Frogman for a college documentary project.

Warning- Swearing + Minor wound

Note- Hiya!! I’ve had a lot of fun working with the wishes you asked for and I’m super excited to see what you think of it! I hope you’re doing well :D

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Virgil held up the two near-identical hoodies in front of the mirror, deciding which to wear when a familiar head poked through the doorway. 

“Ooh, are you getting ready for your little date?” 

Virgil walked over to kick him out when Janus joined in. 

“Leave our darling little brother alone Remus, his boyfriend will be here soon. We have to find the baby pictures before he arrives.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! The teacher paired us up. I had no say in it.” Virgil said as he tried and failed to push the pair out. “And if either of you shows him any embarrassing pictures of me, you’re both dead.”

“Wow, how scary,” mocked Remus as Janus mimed a face of fear. He then added, “If I were you I’d go for the one on the left, it makes you look less…intimidating and murdery.”

Virgil swatted at him with the hoodie before putting it on reluctantly, huffing about how he was planning to choose it anyway because it was ‘warmer’.

Just then the doorbell rang. Virgil’s eyes opened wide as he ran down the stairs to get to the door first but he was no match for Remus. He shoved Virgil out of the way and opened the door wide. 

“You must be Logan. We’ve heard so much about you. Why don’t you come in?” He invited with a wild grin on his face.

Virgil stared daggers at Remus as Logan walked in, politely telling Remus he has a lovely home. He was wearing a jean jacket over an unbuttoned plaid shirt and a graphic t-shirt depicting Mothman. His soft-looking hair fell over the rim of his glasses, the eyes behind them taking in his new surroundings.

Before Virgil could tell Logan they should leave, Janus began his, rehearsed, warnings. “You better take good care of my brother, young man. I’m expecting you to bring him home with at least three remaining limbs and having gone through a maximum of one demon possession, preferably none, or else there will be hell to pay. I’m also expecting you to keep criminal activity to a minimum along with the use of venomous vipers, they’re nasty creatures.” 

To Virgil’s surprise, Logan had taken out a notepad and started to make notes, taking his speech seriously. Janus clearly wasn’t expecting this either as his expression softened towards Logan. “It’s obvious you’ll take good care of him. I’ll let you two go because I’m sure you have plenty of ‘work’ to do.” He winked at Virgil. “Just be careful.”

“But-”

“The baby photos and home videos can wait for their second date Rem, let’s give Virge a chance to embarrass himself without our help first.”

Virgil glared at his brothers as he dragged Logan outside, only mildly thankful Janus let him off that easy. What had he done to deserve being stuck with those two morons?

“Have fun!” Remus called out as the door slammed closed. 

“Come on, I parked down the road. It’s not far.” Logan set off walking away, Virgil joining him a moment later.

“I’m super sorry about them,” Virgil said. “Ignore everything they said, they’re not worth wasting energy on.”

“It’s quite alright Virgil, it’s clear they care for you. I have always admired the dynamic between siblings.”

“You’re an only child? Lucky.” He thought back to how embarrassing his brothers were. They took every opportunity available to tease Virgil, regardless of whether they were alone or with any of his few friends. In moments like that, it was hard to remember why he loved them. He reminded himself, trying to calm down.

On his worst nights, Remus would tell him a gruesome ��bedtime story’ while Deceit badgered him to add a happy end. They would also take him to concerts of bands he liked and try to fit into the scene even though they hated the music and fashion. Seeing Janus in a My Chemical Romance shirt trying not to curse after jabbing himself in the eye with Virgil’s eyeliner was still one of his fondest memories.

“Although,” Virgil added, “It does have its advantages.”

Logan stopped in front of an old pickup truck. Despite the carefully polished hubcaps and fresh paint job, it had visibly been through a lot.

“Here we are, our ride for the evening.” Logan took hold of the passenger door handle. “The door can be a little tricky sometimes.” He rattled the handle, banging at a spot a few inches below it. The door sprang open. “Like to most things, there’s a trick.”

He pulled the door open fully, holding it for Virgil as he clambered up. “Uh…thanks.”

Logan proceeded to join him from the driver’s side. “It may not look it but it’s a strong and reliable vehicle, I spent all last summer fixing it up.” He said proudly.

“No, no, it’s nice!” Virgil reassured him. “Does it have a name?” 

“Why would my truck have a name?” Logan asked, appearing puzzled. He put his key in the ignition. The vehicle whirred to life.

“Nevermind. Are you excited to film our project?” 

“Incredibly so! When Mr Picani said we had to make a documentary on any subject I got super excited about the idea of cryptid hunting! Thank you for going along with it!”

“Whatever gets me to pass the class dude. Plus this seems like a better way to spend time than filming ladybugs walking on leaves and doing some boring commentary.” What Virgil didn’t add was that after seeing the excitement of Logan’s face when he proposed the idea, Virgil couldn’t find it in his heart to say no. 

He shuffled in his seat. “I’m also really happy I got partnered with you. I know we haven’t talked much but you seem a lot easier to get along with than the other people in our class.” Virgil smiled in Logan’s direction and despite the dim lighting, he could have sworn he saw Logan blush.

“Oh, thank you, Virgil. You too have ‘good vibes’ if I’m using the term correctly.” Virgil grinned, telling Logan he did. 

“How about some music?” Logan asked before turning on the radio. Pop music crackled out of it, gently playing for the rest of their journey.

~~~~

A cold wind blew through the dense, gloomy woods. In the clearing before it, stood a teenager speaking to a camera, visible in the dying light of the sun.

“There are many legends about the Sanders Wilds, however, most revolve around the same being. A creature said to lurk in the depths of these woods, waiting for unsuspecting victims. 

He has been described as a slimy beast with incredible jumping abilities, his hind muscular legs able to propel him forward metres at a time. He most often appears by the many bodies of water found in this forest.

Although no-one has ever disappeared in the woods, most locals swear they’ve met one of the unfortunate souls chased by the being whose very existence is in question.

He goes by many names. The Shadow, the Beast of the Sanders Wilds and recently he’s been referred to as ‘Scary Todd’ by a youngster from a neighbouring Elementary school.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows from behind the camera when he heard ‘youngster’ but Logan brushed it off and continued.

“The most common name of the cryptid we will be investigating today, inspired by its many characteristics, is” Logan stopped for dramatic effect. “The Frogman.“

“That’s quite the speech you prepared there” Virgil called out as he put down the video camera and rubbed his forearm. His arms had begun to stiffen during Logan’s monologue 

“Are you ready to go in?” Logan asked.

Virgil froze. There was only one problem, something he hadn’t told Logan- He was scared. 

Virgil knew that technically there wasn’t anything to be scared of. The frogman was nothing more than an urban legend, mere shadows and reflections mistaken for something, however, it was the what if’s that plagued Virgil’s mind. What if the frogman was real? What if he appeared? Worst of all… what if he caught them? Virgil wasn’t sure if he was willing to risk his life to pass a college class he didn’t even like that much.

“Virgil?” Logan looked concerned. “Are you alright?”

Great, Virgil scolded himself. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell Logan in the first place. More than anything he didn’t want Logan to think he was a nervous wreck, scared of a fake monster. Now he’d have to tell his handsome partner he was a chicken and he would totally think less of Virgil. Oh why does Logan have to be so handsome, Virgil thought to himself as he looked towards his cryptid hunting companion. 

He was tall, with a sturdy frame that was perfect for giving supportive hugs and his hair was unruly in all the right ways, looking good for running your fingers through. It was very difficult to focus on anything else, Virgil had to admit. Good looking people never failed to make things more difficult.

“I- I’m just… a little scared.” Virgil mumbled reluctantly. “As controversial as it is, I’m not too keen on the whole getting captured by a forest monster thing.”

“Oh.” Logan looked disappointed. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not too late to change the project. I can drive us to the library and we can get started in something different. All that matters is that you feel comfortable.”

Virgil felt touched. Logan was willing to give up something he wanted to do for his well being? It wasn’t often that happened. That’s why he was determined to go in anyway. “No way. We’re going in there and finding that frogman. Just… promise to protect me from any monsters?” Virgil managed a smile as he held out his pinky, holding the camcorder in his other hand.

“Pinky promise,” Logan answered solemnly, hooking his finger around Virgil’s. Then, he smiled wide. “Now, let’s go say hi to The Beast. And…” He paused apprehensively as if he was trying to pick out the right words. “If you’re alright carrying the camcorder with one hand, maybe I could hold your hand? So you feel safe?”

Virgil laughed, slipping his hand into Logan’s. It felt warm compared to the cool evening. “As long as you’re okay with shaky footage.” He joked.

Logan led them into the forest, pulling out a flashlight from his pocket while Virgil switched the camera back on. There was an eerie quiet only broken by the crackling of leaves and snapping of branches under their feet. 

“Hey, Logan, you know you can talk, right? We can edit everything out of the footage later.” There was still no response. 

Virgil glanced towards Logan, seeing him staring intensely at a spot in the direction they were walking. “Make sure you get this.” He murmured before rushing up, tugging Virgil with him. He crouched down next to an animal print in the muddy ground. Virgil let go of his hand so he could step back and get a better angle. 

“This right here is an animal footprint however it belongs to no regular being. While it seems to belong to an amphibian creature as is indicated by the pattern and the indentation from webbing, it is bigger than any regular amphibians could produce.” Logan splayed his hand above the mark to demonstrate. They were around the same size. “This must be the footprint of the Frogman.”

Yay, Virgil thought to himself. Evidence of a creature that might kill them. How wonderful. 

He walked to Logan and helped him up, keeping hold of Logan’s hand afterwards because there was no way he was going to risk getting separated from him now. He also enjoyed the feeling of Logan’s hand in his, it made him a feeling of joy that he couldn’t quite place.

They continued when there was a sudden rustling a few metres in front of them. Instinctively Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand harder, holding onto him for safety. They both froze. Logan’s torch turned to the source of the sound, a bush. A moment later a squirrel scampered out of the said bush, disappearing into the darkness as quickly as it appeared. Both Logan and Virgil sighed in relief.

“That sure was one terrifying squirrel,” Virgil said as they continued to walk deeper into the woods. 

Virgil attempted to strike up small talk again, not wanting things to become awkward. “I like your Mothman shirt.”

“Oh, thank you, Virgil.” Logan beamed, the way he only did when he was speaking about something he was passionate about. “I had a really big cryptid phase as a child, so big my parents decided to take us to Point Pleasant for the summer break one year. That’s the hometown of Mothman, they have a statue of him and everything. It was incredible. That’s when I got the shirt! It’s been a good luck charm. Not that I believe in luck but it never hurts something else on your side”

“You got it as a kid and it still fits? You must’ve been a tall kid.”

“It was the middle of their tourist season so they were sold out of all the youth sizes. According to my mother, it made a very fashionable dress.”

Virgil held back giggles as the thought of a smaller Logan wearing that shirt going down to his knees with a pair of fashionable red heels crossed his mind. For whatever reason, if Logan were to wear a dress, Virgil believed he’d wear it with stunning red heels. He seemed the type.

“Did you spot The Mothman?” he asked, only half kidding.

“Unfortunately not, although it was probably for the best as I was going to ask him for an autograph. I doubt that would have gone down well with Him.“

The idea of a smaller Logan wearing an oversized Mothman merchandise shirt going down to his knees and a pair of fashionable red heels walking up to the Lord of the Shadows himself, at least double his height, and asking him to sign his autograph book was so funny to Virgil that he stopped in his tracks wheezing, his eyes brimming with tears. 

Seeing Logan’s bewildered expression, he tried to calm himself. After a few moments catching his breath trying to keep a straight he was able to regain his composure. “Sorry Lo, I’m fine now.”

“Can I ask-”

“No” Virgil interrupted him. “It’s really for the best you don’t.”

“Alright Virgil, I’ll trust you on this one.” He hummed a song Virgil wasn’t familiar with for a few moments. Then, he said, “I had an idea for while we’re either walking towards the Frogman or further into the depth of woods we might get lost in.” Virgil wasn’t sure if Logan was kidding and frankly he didn’t want to know. 

“Yeah L, what is it?” Virgil’s mind started to race when he realized he had called Logan a nickname. While only a shortening of his name, it still seemed very personal and friendly. What if it bothers him? What if he thinks it’s weird? 

“Well Vee,” Logan paused to see Virgil’s reaction, looking smug. Virgil stuck his tongue out at him. He wouldn’t admit it but his heart would flutter whenever he got that self-righteous expression on his face, seen often when he corrected the teacher or had got full marks on a test. It was cute. Very annoying, but cute.

“We could directly target your fear of the Frogman. You would have to trust me though.”

“I trust you,” Virgil answered with no hesitation. He squeezed Logan’s hand in his.

“Oh…um…” Logan appeared flustered. “This is going to seem scary but there’s a very low possibility of a negative outcome. Now…repeat after me.”

Logan took a deep breath before yelling “Fuck you Frogman!”

Virgil startled, not expected Logan to be so brazen. Yelling was a common occurrence for Logan however such vulgarities? Directed at a possibly supernatural creature who was reported as dangerous? He shook his head in disbelief.

Logan looked at him pointedly. “Oh no Logan, there is no way-” He stopped realizing there would be no convincing Logan. “Fine.” He grumbled.

“Frick you Frogman.” The words sounded uncertain. 

“That was a good first attempt, Virgil. If you want to try again, you should really try to metaphorically shake off any inhibitions and really go for it. I did promise to protect you, the Frogman won’t hurt you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

They had come to a stop next to a running stream of water. Virgil slipped his camcorder into his hoodie pocket and let go of Logan’s hand, freeing both his arms. After running his fingers through his hair trying to build up enough confidence and jumping where he stood for a moment getting into an energetic mood, he felt ready. Or as ready as he could be. 

Angling his head to the sky he screamed at the top of his lungs “Fuck you Frogman!”

He laughed in exhilaration, adrenaline running through his veins. Virgil felt invincible. “And fuck your Frogmother too!” He raised his hand for a high five.

“Yes!” Logan exclaimed. As he stepped towards Virgil, he must have been too excited to look where he walked because his foot caught on a tree branch. 

Instinctively Virgil went to grab Logan’s hand to keep him up, however, Virgil started hurtling towards the creek as well, knocked off balance. He gasped as he hit the cold water, a moment later crashing into Logan.

The stream had been quite shallow, a foot deep at most. Virgil, quite luckily, didn’t experience the brute of the fall, having fallen on top of Logan. He rolled off and tried to stand. He would definitely have a couple nasty bruises later, he thought to himself. 

“Hey Lo, are you okay?” Virgil looked for the torch that fell out of Logan’s hand during his fall. It wasn’t far and within seconds he was shining it directly at Logan’s face. Logan didn’t appreciate it.

“I’m fine, I assure you but please get that out of my face. The light is blinding.” Virgil muttered a few apologies while helping Logan to his feet. Overall, whilst cold and mildly pained, Logan appeared to be okay overall.

The two were both standing up in the middle of the creek. Although their feet were still submerged in the freezing cold water neither seemed to notice nor care. Instead, they were both looking directly at each other. 

They inched closer and Logan began softly “Virgil, I’ve been meaning to tell you-” however he didn’t get to finish that sentence.

There was a raucous splashing sound from further upstream. Then there was another, this time louder. Whatever was making the noise was approaching. 

Virgil shared a look of terror with Logan. He grabbed the camera and started recording as a shadowy figure started to form. Its form was unclear, however, it moved forward the way a frog might, leaping up and forward. Virgil was sure, it was The Frogman. 

“What are you waiting for, Vee? Run.” Logan urged him to come however Virgil was frozen in fear. This was the end for him. He’d never see Janus and Remus again. He’d never tell Logan how he feels. 

Logan snatched the torch from Virgil and took his now-free hand into his. Glancing back to the shadowy figure a final time, he muttered a few profanities, irked, then started to run, dragging Virgil with him. This was enough to snap Virgil out of his state, as he started running alongside Logan as fast as he could. The sound of the Frogman thudding behind them, hot on their trail, motivated them to keep going.

Virgil would never consider himself particularly athletic, which paired with the fact his legs were quite short created a challenge as he attempted to keep up with Logan, however, Adrenaline paired with the fact Logan wouldn’t have let him fall behind if he wanted to keep him as far from the Frogman as possible.

The journey out the forest was a blur. Virgil remembered stumbling however he got back up immediately. Logan shined the torch in front of them so they didn’t run into any trees. As a few minutes passed the sound of the Frogman following them faded away but neither would risk stopping. They continued forward and by some miracle, they had returned to the clearing where they had started, Logan’s pickup truck only a few yards away.

Logan slowed down to a stop outside it. “It’s alright, he won’t follow us out here.”

“That’s… really… great… Lo.” Virgil panted. He could feel his heart pounding in his head as he breathed so heavily he thought he might cough his lungs out. “How…are you…back to normal…so fast?”

“Oh, I did track in high school. Now you stay there while I get something.”

Virgil leaned against the truck as Logan rummaged around in his glove compartment. He pulled out an emergency foil blanket. He wrapped it over Virgil’s shoulders. “I only have one so you better keep that on. That water was freezing and I don’t want you getting hypothermic. You’re still soaking wet after all. Are you injured anywhere?” 

Unsure, Virgil checked. Sure enough, he had a cut on his shin. Damn, it must’ve happened when I tripped, he thought to himself. Only as the energy from the run wore off, he started to feel it sting.

“Is it okay if I clean that cut for you? I have a first aid kit in the truck’s cargo bed.” 

“Thanks, dude, I would really appreciate that. You better get under this blanket right after though, you’re not allowed to get hypothermic either.”

Logan smiled then pulled out a first aid kit from the back of the truck. “You can have a seat on the grass.” Once Virgil did, Logan joined him. “How are you feeling?”

“Still in shock and denial. It’ll probably only sink in later tonight that we got chased by the actual Frogman. How about you?” 

“Honestly…I feel incredible. We saw the Frogman! The Frogman is real” Logan grinned. “Also, this might hurt a bit” he warned Virgil as he disinfected the cut. He was right. Virgil’s eyes pricked with tears.

“It’s a good thing my jeans were already so ripped, that way people won’t even question this one.” he joked. 

“Did your camera survive that? I hope it’s not water damaged.”

“Nah don’t worry, it’s been through a lot. A little fall and water aren’t going to be the thing to break it.” He inspected the camera. “Unfortunately…I can’t say the same for the footage. The memory card looks completely fried.”

Logan’s smile fell. “That’s a shame, although maybe it’s for the best. The Frogman can continue living his best life in the forest with no scientists looking for him since there’s still no evidence.”

“Really?” Virgil asked incredulously. “You. The smartest person I know. Is against scientists?”

“Well… I’m not against scientists but having watched E.T. as a kid, I wouldn’t trust them with any rare or unusual beings.” He put a plaster on the cleaned injury then looked at his handiwork proudly.

Virgil was bemused by this. “You do know that’s a fictional movie, right?” After Logan did not answer he decided it was best to change tact. 

“C’mon, join me under this blanket so you can warm up before we drive away. I’m thinking we go to mine? I can make us some hot chocolate and we can decide what to do with the assignment. I can also lend you some dry clothes if you don’t mind being dressed Emo.” 

Logan moved so he was sat next to Virgil, their shoulders touching as the blanket covered them. “Sounds great Vee.”

“It’s a shame we wasted the evening though.” Virgil moped, but then Logan turned to face him. Their faces were mere inches away.

“Actually, I wouldn’t call it a wasted evening. I had a lot of fun spending the evening with you. “ 

Virgil was more taken aback by that than he was by him cursing at the Frogman. “I enjoyed spending the evening with you too. You’re really kind and surprisingly easy to talk to. I hope we could maybe spend some time together after this assignment is over if that’s something you’d like?” 

Virgil felt the tips of his ears burning as his face flushed completely. He knew he was being obvious now but it seemed worth it. Putting himself out there didn’t seem as scary with Logan.

Logan spoke as gently as he had when they were standing in the creek together.

“About that. I wanted to tell you something before we were rudely interrupted earlier.”

“Mhm?” Virgil murmured, not trusting himself to say any proper words.

“I believe I have romantic feelings for you, Virgil. I highly enjoy speaking with you and when you’re around my heart begins to beat faster. If you were to feel the same way I would love to take you on a date perhaps? With fewer cryptids, I assure you. If not-”

“Me too,” Virgil said, in disbelief, cutting him off. He didn’t want to hear the ’If not’ because he liked Logan back. A lot. He took hold of Logan’s hand. 

“If it’s okay with you Logan, can I kiss you?” He was surprised by his own confidence, but it felt right. Everything felt right.

Logan answered not with words but by closing the gap between the two of them. It was short and sweet. According to Virgil, it was perfect. Perhaps the evening wasn’t a waste after all.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 57

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @ocfairygodmother​

Even with five children under the age of six, she can’t remember the last time she experienced this level, this particular brand, of exhaustion. Not even when caring for infant twins and a one year old or during the most difficult pregnancies that came with numerous complications, more than a handful of legitimate scares, and eventually complete bed rest. Not even the three years that had followed Tyler’s initial return to the game, which saw her practically raising three little ones alone while he  devoted every waking moment to Nik and whatever job she brought his way; hostility and anger quickly building and joining the ranks with profound stress and worry. Even then she hadn’t felt like this; the seemingly chronic brain fog, body running on autopilot while simply going through the motions of everyday life. So tired that she actually can’t sleep; her body ready to give in and surrender completely, yet her mind running on all cylinders. So many things running through her already troubled and worried brain. The last minute questioning of if she is doing the right thing for her children and if everything needed is packed away in the staggering amount of suitcases cluttering the living room. Is her sanity going to survive not only travelling with that many kids? And will she be able to keep them happy and occupied and oblivious to all the drama and chaos once they get there?  There’s no telling how long they’ll spend in Mumbai. It could be just a few days. It could turn into a few weeks. It may even stretch into a month of two. It all depends on just how smoothly things will actually go.  There’s no such thing as an easy, uncomplicated job. Each one is dangerous and unpredictable in their own way. And with someone like Mahajan serving as agitator, the stakes have never been higher. Money and influence go a long way. As does intimidation. And he has plenty of all three.

Tanner stirs in his sleep; a handful of quiet whimpers and heavy sighs and tiny sniffles. He’d had a rough day both at school and upon his return home; dissolving into tears at the drop of a dime, complaining about both stomach and headaches, turning down even his preferred activities and favorite foods. Not even Saju and his puppy antics and cuddles with Mac who refused to leave his side had done the trick. Not even the slightest of smiles playing on his face when his twin brother and older sister did their best to try and cheer him up. He’d been his worst at bedtime; crying for nearly half an hour in the darkened room, until his sobs became so powerful that they actually made him throw up. After giving him a bath and getting him into fresh pyjamas, she’d taken him to bed with her. His mood improving slightly at the idea of being able to sleep in the big bed with her and being able to use his dad’s pillow, yet refusing to settle until he was allowed to wear one of Tyler’s hoodies. The garment miles too large, but effectively soothing him when the zipper was pulled  up as high as it could go and the hood over his head.

He’d quickly fallen asleep after that, comforter by the familiar smell clinging to the sweater and the warmth provided by both it and his mother’s body. Laying on his side with an arm across her chest and his head in an awkward spot on her upper arm; hand falling asleep a long time ago, and the accompanying -and almost painful- pins and needles serving as yet another thing preventing her from finding rest.  Even with his baby face and smooth, flawless features, Tanner looks even younger in his sleep. Smaller, even. Seeming much more fragile and vulnerable than she knows he actually is. He’s the tinier of the two boys, but far tougher than he’s ever given any credit for. So sick, fragile, and weak when he’d been born that none of the doctors or nurses had thought he’d ever make it out of the NICU alive; even given her and Tyler numbers for social workers and bereavement counsellors and contact information for funeral homes that were considered the best at handling babies and their grieving, distraught parents. It had come as quite the surprise to all of the naysayers when he’d fought back as hard he had; released from the hospital a month and a half later without any of the long term and life alternating complications they’d been told he’d have.  

Now he’s the healthiest of all the kids. Barely getting even a runny nose or an ear infection let alone something more serious like the flu. He’s not a big kid; not nearly as tall or as heavy as his twin. But he’s a strong one. And she watches him as he sleeps; lips slightly parted, impossibly long, dark eyelashes skimming the tops of pale, smooth cheeks, those wayward locks of hair -the exact ones his father has when sporting that same haircut- falling across his forehead. So pure and so innocent; so many deep and powerful emotions existing in such a little body. And when she reaches across her body with her free arm and uses gentle fingertips to push his hair from his face, he gives a long, shaky sigh and his hand grabs a hold of her t-shirt; fist tightly gripping the fabric.

“Mommy…” Tanner whimpers, lips curving into his infamous pout.

“It’s okay, baby boy.” Her voice barely above a whisper as she combs her fingers through his hair and presses a kiss to his sweaty brow, each eye, and then the bridge of his nose. “I’m right here. Mommy’s right here.”

“Don’t leave,” he pleads. “Don’t leave too.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Esme assures him. “I’m staying right here with you. But can you do me a solid and lift up for a second? You’re on my arm and can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

His eyes are still closed as he sits up; groggily swaying from side to side. And she breathes a sigh of relief when she’s finally able to pull her arm free. “Daddy falls asleep on that same arm all the time,” she says, as he settles down next to her once more, this time in a fetal position with his butt pressed into her side.  “You’re awfully heavy for a little guy.”

“I’m not little,” Tanner protests.

“To me you are. You’ll always be little to me.”

“I’m strong.”

“Yes, you are. Very strong. Like your daddy. You’re both very, very strong.”

“One day I’ll have big muscles too.”

“One day. But not for a long while. I don’t want you growing up that fast. I want you to stay little for a while longer, okay?”

“Okay, mommy,” he sleepily agrees, then yawns noisily.

“Now go back to sleep,” she gently orders, rolling  over onto her side and wrapping an arm around that slender frame when he wiggles closer to her; always needing the security of touching her in some way. “It's late and we have a long day tomorrow.”

Tanner slips over onto his side to face her; blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight that streams through the windows. “I wanna see daddy.”

“You’ll see daddy as soon as he can come and see you. I know you miss; I miss him too. But what he’s doing...the people he’s helping...it’s very, very. VERY important and he can’t just drop everything to come and see us. Even if he DOES want to.”

“He wants to see us?”

“Of course he does. He’s not staying away because he wants to. It’s because he HAS to.”

“Are the people he’s helping more important than us?”

“Baby boy, no one is more important to daddy than us. Everything he does is for you and your brothers and your sisters. And me. You’re little right now and it doesn’t make much sense, I know. But daddy loves you so much. More than else in the world.”

“Even more than surfing and vegemite?”

“Even more than those.”

He manages a small smile. “That’s a lot. He loves me THAT much?”

“There are no words to even describe how much he loves you. If you tried to count how much, you wouldn’t be able to because you’d run out of the numbers; none of them go THAT high. And you remember what he told you? About how it was his idea that we go to India?”

Tanner nods.

“It was his idea because he wanted us to be closer to him and not so far away. Because he would worry about  us THAT much. Everything your daddy does is for you. For all of us. It’s hard to understand when you’re little.”

He’s silent as he considers her words, fingers fidgeting with the pendant around her neck. “He’s going after bad guys, yeah?”

“There’s a few bad guys he needs to take care of,” Esme confirms.

“Is he going to die?”

“Why would you ask that? Why would he die?”

“He almost died. Before I was born. Before you found out Millie was in your tummy.”

“That’s a long time ago.”

“But it still happened. He still almost died.”

“But he didn’t. And that’s what matters. Is that what you’re afraid of?”

Tanner nods, lower lip and chin wobbling as tears sparkle in his eyes. “I don’t want daddy to die. I’d miss him so much. And he said he wasn’t ever going to go away again and he did. So what if he dies this time?”

“Tanner...come here…” She gathers him into both arms, pressing kisses to his forehead and his cheeks and his lips.  “Daddy’s very strong and he’s very smart. Way smarter than the bad guys. He’s going to be fine. He may get some bumps and bruises and maybe some stitches and a broken bone or two, but he’s going to be okay.  He’s tough, right?”

“He’s the toughest.”

“That’s right. He is. But he’s also very smart and very careful. Especially knowing that he has you guys to come home to. And there’s no one else in the world that you can trust like you can trust daddy. He’s the person I trust.”

“I trust him. And you. ‘Cause you’re mommy and no one loves me like you do. When I was a baby and I was sick, you used to stay at the hospital with me.”

“You were really tiny then,” Esme muses. “Like Addie. Well, no one is tinier than Addie. But you were a wee, little baby. How do you know I was there?”

“Daddy told me. He said you wouldn’t leave me there by myself. So he stayed home and took care of Millie and Teej and you stayed at the hospital to boss the doctors around.”

She laughs. “Is that what daddy said? That I bossed the doctors around?”

“He said that you’re tough and you’re like a momma bear and no one crosses a momma bear when it comes to her babies. And you made the doctors and nurses take care of me properly and that’s why I’m here. ‘Cause you wouldn’t let them give up on me.”

“No. I wouldn’t. And you’re here for MANY reasons. Because you’re tough and you’re strong and you’re smart and loving and so damn cute.”:

Tanner giggles when she covers his face with kisses.

“And you’re meant to be here,” she adds. “Just like daddy is. Which is why he didn’t die and why he won’t die this time either. So don’t ever worry about that, okay? Nothing can stop daddy from coming home to you guys. Nothing. Trust me. I’ve known him for a long time.”

“Like a hundred years?”

“Okay, maybe not that long.”

“Fifty?”

“Just how old do you think I am, young man?”

“Not as old as daddy.”

“You are so lucky you said that,” she places a noisy kiss on his forehead, and he once again dissolves into giggles when she tickles his sides and tummy. “Do you want to try and sleep in your own bed again?”

“I wanna stay here with you. So you won’t be sad and lonely either. I know you get sad when daddy’s gone. So I’ll stay with you to make sure you don’t cry.”

“You have such a big, good heart. I want you to close your eyes and try and sleep, alright? We have a very busy day tomorrow. An exciting day. Can you do that for me? Try and sleep?”

Tanner nods.

“That’s my boy.”  She kisses her forehead once more, then pulls him even tighter against her. Gently combing her fingers through his hair until she  finally hears his breathing soften and even out and feels his body relax against hers.

****

It’s eight in the evening in Mumbai when he calls home. Hesitating at first; it’s after midnight in Australia and their flight for India leaves at seven in the morning. It won’t be an easy trip to make with five kids in tow; even with Kyle helping and being able to travel by one of Anil’s chartered jets instead of a commercial airline. But his earlier promises to Millie that he’d call her mother had been somewhat waylaid when a two hour workout in the hotel gym had been followed by a long, hot shower and a two hour nap. Only woken up by Yaz pounding on the door; a bag of take out food in one hand and a carry tray of drinks in the other. It felt good to hang out with him again. Sharing tales of old jobs both dangerous and relatively smooth and easy, laughing over the rare lighthearted and humorous times, even shedding a couple of tears for all the friends and colleagues that they’d lost during their years in the game. And then the talk turned to marriage and kids and Yaz’ fears and worries about becoming a father and time seemed to get away from them far too easily.

He calls her cell instead of the landline; less chance of waking either Kyle or the kids or sending Mac -with his bizarre gear of the ringer on the phone- into a frenzy. And she answers on the third ring, voice quiet and tone calm and even, but sounding very much awake.

“Someone should be asleep,” Tyler teases, as he relaxes in the middle of the bed, back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him.

“Someone was supposed to call hours ago,” Esme playfully retorts. “Are you okay? Is everything alright? What time is it there?”

“Only eight. And yeah, everything’s fine. I’m good. Time just got away from me. Worked out for a bit, fell asleep, Yaz showed up and we hung out and got talking. I wouldn’t have called so late, but…”

“I don’t care how late you call. As long as I get to talk to you. Hear your voice. Are you sure you’re okay? Nik called earlier and told me about the shit show that went down. That you almost throat punched Koen.”

“I didn’t even come close to throat punching him.”

“But you wanted to, by the sounds of it.”

“Well if you hadn’t have told him to babysit me…”

“First off, it’s not babysitting. It’s keeping an eye on you. Making sure you keep your head in the game and not fall back into old habits and bad patterns. And I know you know what I’m talking about. You admitted yourself you were slipping and if you’re alone, it WILL happen. And I know it’s the last thing you want; going back to the way things were. Drinking, the pain meds.”

“I’m not THAT weak. At least not as weak as you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re stressed. I think you’re anxious. And when all that mixes together and the PTSD kicks off, the result is not good. I’m worried about you. And it makes me less stressed if I know someone is keeping an eye on you. I’m trying to hold it together too, you know. And it helps if I know you’re okay and that there’s someone that cares about you like I do.”

“I don’t need him up my ass twenty four hours a day. You’re not up my ass twenty four hours a day.”

“I agree that maybe he’s going a little overboard and he’s been a little protective.”

“A little?”

“But he’s your oldest friend and he’s seen you at your worst and he doesn’t want you going back to that,” Esme reasons. “And I trust him. Because I need you to be okay and come home to me and the kid and if I know he’s watching out for you…”

“You act like I don’t know what I’m doing. Like I’ve never done any of this before. I was into this long before you came along.”

“And long before I came along, you were an alcoholic addicted to pain meds and you were maybe a week away from killing yourself. I asked him to keep an eye on you because I love you, you insufferable, stubborn, pain in  my ass. You are the strongest, toughest person I know. But even tough, strong people can break and I don’t want that happening to you. And I also don’t want to fight. Especially over this. And you can’t tell me you just called to fight. It’s like we can make up in our favourite way.”

“Of course I didn’t call to fight.”

“Then just accept that this is an argument you won’t  win. I do what I do because I love you. Because I want you to keep your head on straight and you shit done so we aren’t stuck in Mumbai forever. So we just call it a day and come home and go on with our lives. And I know that’s what you want too.”

“What I really want is to be home right now,” Tyler says. “With you. With my kids. And not even worrying about all of this shit. That’s what I really want.”

“Trust me, that’s what I want too. There’s nothing in this world I want more than that. Well, except for that thing you do with your tongue.”

He grins. “What thing? There’s about two dozen. You gotta narrow it down.”

“You know which one. Besides, I can’t go into too much detail. Phone sex is off the table for tonight, sorry. I’m not alone.”

“Which one of the five?”

“Tanner. And two dogs. No wonder I can’t sleep. Both the dogs and the kid snore almost as bad as you do. And he pouts like you do. EXACTLY like you.”

“I don’t pout.”

“Yes, you do. I’ll even take a picture of him and send it to you. He’s doing it right now. In his sleep. It’s so cute. HE’S so cute. He’s looking more and more like you every day. You’re both so cute.”

“I’m going to let you have that.”

“You ARE cute,” she insists. “In your own way. You have your cute moments. He’s starting to sound like you, too. His accent is stronger than Millie’s  and TJ’s put together.”

“Is he alright?”

“He had a rough day at school. The teacher said he was distracted and emotional. It didn’t get any better when he got home. Just crying at the drop of a hat, nothing cheering him up. He made himself sick he was crying so hard at bed time. He’s having a hard time. He misses you. We all do. But him most of all.”

“I remember when he practically didn’t even bother with me,” Tyler recalls. “Like he forgot he had two parents.”

“He’s always been a momma’s boy. Since he was a baby. But you saw him after New Zealand; when you came back. You saw how he feels about you; how much he loves you. And he’s so sensitive, Tyler. And he feels and loves so hard core. He’s so much like you. More than either of us realize.”

“I fucking hate that he’s going through this. That he has to deal with it all. Crying until he makes himself sick? Because of me? And you wonder why I think I’m selfish for bringing kids into this? That’s why. You think I want him feeling that way over me? He’s five. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe this is a sign you’re doing things right as a dad?” Esme counters. “That your child loves you THIS much? That he misses you like he does?”

“But he shouldn’t have to suffer like this. He’s a little kid.”

“He’s not suffering. He just has a lot of emotions inside that little body of his. He loves you. He loves being with you. When you were a kid and your dad left for even a couple of hours, were you sad or were you relieved?”

Tyler frowns. “What does that...?"

“Did you cry over him? Or were you happy he was gone?”

“Happy. He was a fucking dick, you know that.”

“Well your son is miserable when you leave. Because he loves you with everything that’s inside of him. He misses his daddy. Because he loves when you’re around and he loves all of the things you do together and all the ways you make him smile and laugh and make him feel loved right back. I hate him seeing him so worked up, too. But don’t think it’s an amazing thing that your child loves you THAT much? Or would you rather he not give a shit whether you’re here or not?”

“I’d rather he not have to deal with this shit at all.”

“But we ARE dealing with it. And we’re dealing with it as a family. Doesn’t this prove to you that you’re doing it right? That you’re NOT screwing them up? That’s you’re an amazing daddy and they love you and worship you. I mean, your Millie’s entire world. If that doesn’t make you realize that you’re a good dad, I don’t know what ever will.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You know what…?”

“What, Tyler James? What possible argument could you have to topple me?”

“I love you. So much. And you keep me sane when I think I’m fucking losing it.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Esme assures him. “Just rely on your gut. Your instincts. Those two have never, ever wrong. I mean, your gut told you to still go along with Nik’s Dhaka plan even AFTER you were told you had to be ‘pretend married’ to a mess like me. I think listening to your gut worked out pretty damn well for you.”

“Yeah,” he grins. “It did. I’m glad I went along with it. No matter how stupid it sounded.”

“The best thing I ever did was let her talk me into that job. Everything should have been telling me NOT to do it. That it was going to be a big mess.”

“Well it did kind of turn into a big mess. At the end, anyway.”

“But we made it through. And we got a beautiful out of Dhaka. If there ever was a silver lining, Millie’s it. She made the bracelet by the way; to match yours. She wouldn’t go to bed until she made it. There’s no one earth she lives the way she loves you. I guess she takes after me in that respect. I feel the same way about you. No one else on earth the way I love you, either.”

“If you’re trying to make me cry, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

“I’m not exactly trying, but you’re beautiful when you cry. You’re a beautiful crier.”

“You’re a little off the reservation, you know that?  Are you okay? You’re feeling good about all of this?”

“As good as I can, I guess. I’m holding it together. Mostly for the kids. And for you. And this whole thing with Nik…”

“I wanted someone there with you,” Tyler explains. “When it comes to the job, there’s no one I trust like I trust her.”

“It was a good call,” Esme says. “I trust her, too. At least when it comes to that. And she seems sincere; about wanting to patch things up and be friends again. I just don’t know if I can do that. Trust her in THAT way. Look how far she was willing to go to fuck things up between us. I don’t know if I can forgive her for all of that. Can you?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Her shit caused a lot of fucking damage. And it could have been a lot worse if either of us were weaker people.”

“I want to trust her. I even want to forgive her. But when someone is continuously trying to get your husband to cheat on you and she goes to lengths she did to make it happen…”

“But I didn’t. Cheat on you. I never have. I never will.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust, and you know that. And some of the things she said? Even when I was pregnant with Millie? Even the night before we got married? That was hurtful shit. It never...ever...should have been questioned if Millie was yours. And it’s been six years and sometimes I still think Nik feels that way.”

“I don’t know how she can. Look at the kid. It’s pretty damn obvious she’s mine.”

“That shit hurt,” Esme continues. “Everything she did hurt. And I can trust her to keep us safe, but I sure as hell can’t trust her around you. And if that makes me an insecure, possessive, overprotective wife…”

“I know how to say no,” Tyler reminds her.

“You’re not the problem and you know that. I’m just not ready to trust her that way yet. And I hope you can understand if I never can.”

“Baby, I always have your back. It’s a strictly business relationship. That’s it. We’ll keep it that way with Nik as long as you want us too. But I want her there at the house with you and the kids. Because it would be a huge weight off my shoulders if I didn’t have to worry so much about you guys. So if you could at least try and be a bit friendly…”

“Can you kiss and make up with Koen if I promise to?”

“You’ve seen him. You think I really want to kiss that face?”

“He’s only worried about you. He doesn’t know ‘job you’ like I do. I know you can handle it by yourself. He doesn’t. So cut him some slack, okay? He’s your friend. He loves you. He just wants you to keep it together.”

“Esme, I’m fine. I don’t need him constantly up my ass.  Especially when I’m trying to get shit done. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you do. But he doesn’t know THAT Tyler. He’s never been around him, So give him a break; he means well.”

“If I cut him some slack, you do the same with Nik?”

“I already said I would. And I appreciate her even offering to help you or even agreeing to come keep an eye on us. Are you really okay?”

“A little better today. I’m homesick.”

“I never thought I’d actually hear you admit that out loud.”

“There’s a lot of things I don’t say out loud that I should,” he says.  “Never been able to swallow all  my pride, I guess. But  I love you. So much. And I’m sorry; for every time I hurt you or broke a promise or I made you feel like the job was more important than you. I know I’ve been a shit husband a lot of the time.”

“No. You haven’t. We just went through some bad times,” Esme reasons.  But we got through them, right? Every single one. Hey, we’re the ones that are still together. Remember when everyone thought we wouldn’t get past the first year, never mind six?”

“I’m pretty glad you showed up on my front porch that day.”

“I’m pretty glad I lost all my common sense when Nik told me about the job and I actually went along with it. I know you think you’ve done a lot of things wrong, Tyler. That you don’t see yourself the way I do. But my life would totally suck without you in it. I should be pissed off at you for knocking me up in Dhaka, but I think it worked out for the best.”

“Yeah,” he grins. “So do I.”

“Hang on for a second. Someone is awake. And by someone I mean your son.”

“Let me talk to him. Maybe he’ll feel better if I do.”

“Okay,” she says. “Hang on.”

There’s a slight rustling as the phone is passed from one person to the other, followed by whispered conversation between mother and son.

“Who is it?” Tanner sleepily inquires.

“Someone who wants to talk to you,” Esme replies. “Say hello and find out.”

“Who dis?” The five year old asks, and Tyler can hear his wife both laugh and gently scold their son.

“Who do you think it is?”

“Daddy!” It comes out as a choked sob. “Daddy, I miss you!”

Emotion chokes at him, and he swallows noisily and blinks back his own tears.   “I miss you, too. What’s going on? Mommy says you’re having a hard time. Wanna tell me about it?”

“I’m just really sad that you’re gone. And you won’t be there when we get to India. Why can’t you be there to see us? Why won’t you come and say ‘hi’ at least?”

“I wish I could, mate. But there’s reasons I can’t. Because I have to stay away for a little bit.”

“Are you sick? Is that why? Are you sick and you don’t want us to get sick?”

“Naw, I’m not sick. There’s just some things going on I can’t tell you about.  And I wish  I could tell you about them, but it’s adult stuff. You don’t need to know those things.”

“Adult stuff with the bad guys?”

“Exactly.”

“Why can’t you just beat them up and then come see us after? You could do it. You could beat them up and then come right away to visit.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I need to stay away for a little bit. Just a few days. And then I’ll come and see you guys.  I’m not staying away because I want to. It’s because I need to. Because it’s what’s best for you and your brothers and sisters and your mom.”

“But you want to see us, right?”

“Of course I do, mate. I didn’t want to leave. I HAD to leave. I’d never leave you unless I had to. You believe me, right?”

“I believe you.”

“You don’t need to worry so much. I’m fine. Nothing’s going to happen to me. And in a few days I’m going to show up to see you and you’re going to see that for yourself. But right now, I need you to be strong, okay? For your mom. She needs you to be strong. Because she’s pretty lonely and she’s pretty sad and I need you to cheer her up.”

Tanner sniffles. “How?”

“I don’t know. Whatever way you can. Tell her she’s pretty.  As often as you can. Tell her you love her. That she’s the best mom in the whole world.”

“She is. She IS the best mom in the world. And the prettiest.”

Tyler grins. “We’re pretty lucky, yeah? That she’s so pretty and she’s the best mom and wife in the whole world?”

“Yeah. We are.”

“I need you to get some sleep. It’s a long way to India and I don’t want you being grumpy and giving your mom a hard time. And once guy guys are here, I can call more often. No more time difference. You tell our mom I said to call me as soon as you guys are here, so I know you’re safe.”

“I will. I love you, daddy.”

“I love you, too mate. So much. Now go to sleep and let me talk to your mom  again. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. You be good.”

“You be good too,” Tanner says. “Give the bad guys shit.”

He can’t help but chuckle. “I will.”

“I think he’ll be okay now,” Esme says when she gets back onto the phone. “He’s smiling again, at least. And he’s wearing one of your hoodies. The brown Emery one. He looks so cute in it. I’ll send you a picture of that, too. We always say TJ is your mini me, but with the hair and now wearing your clothes, I think Tanner is taking over. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I always am when I talk to you.”

“And tomorrow’s the day?” she asks. “Everything starts?”

“My part at least,” Tyler sighs. “I’ve got two guys to take care of. In the morning.”

“At the same time”

“Yep. In an elevator.”

“Intriguing if not a little worrisome. Do you know how you’re going to do it? You can’t really walk into an elevator and start shooting. Or wearing a vest. They’ll see that for sure and know something is up. You are going to wear a vest, right?”

“Under my shirt. Hoodie over that. Doubt they’ll be paying enough attention to notice it. But you’re right; definitely won’t be able to just go in shooting. I’ve got it all figured out. Should go okay. Good thing is they won’t expect it, and we’re in a tight space so they can’t run.”

“And that means you can’t get away either if you need to. Please be careful, Tyler. I know you’ve done this hundreds of times, but it doesn’t mean I won’t worry. I know you can do it. I’ve seen what you can do. Still…”

“I’ve got it under control, baby. I promise. You need to get some sleep. Gonna be a long day.”

“Still wish you could be there when we arrive. Maybe I’ll just go ahead and keep my fingers crossed that you’ll somehow manage it.”

“Stranger things HAVE happened,” he reasons.

“Yeah. Tell me about it. I got with the likes of you,” Esme teases.

“Now THAT’S cold.”

“You know I love you. And I miss you and can’t wait to see you. Be careful tomorrow. Be safe.”

“I will,” he assures her. “Call as soon as you get to India. So I know you guys are okay. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“You definitely will. I love you, Tyler.”

“I love you too, Esme. I always have. Always will.”

“So you say. I bet you’re still going to trade me in for two thirty year olds when you turn sixty, though.”

“Never,”  he grins. “I’m trading you in for three twenty year olds.”

“You wish,” she laughs. “Talk soon.”

“Very soon,” he promises, and then disconnects the call.

[toxicsquad]

There is no better way to get to know someone than through a good question tag. In this case we have decided to make an Indie game dev question tag with the responses of our four developers. We hope that it will reveal many unknowns, but if you are left with any questions, do not hesitate to use our ask.

What part of game development are you responsible for?

Athe: I write and write, I melt in my seat, I correct, I cry and then I program. It’s an endless cycle. Occasionally I laugh like crazy while I eat Pringles.

Sam: I draw and color without leaving the lines (almost always) the sprites, the illustrations and the ravings that usually occur to us past 3 in the morning.

Illy: English translations.

Sher: I draw BGs

What tools do you use (hardware / software)?

Athe: Recently my desktop PC has passed away, so I’ve had to rescue my old PC from the garage. I also have a laptop that saves my life more times than I would like to admit. As for the software, I need, above all, drive documents, video editing programs, image etc (I have an Adobe package) and of course Renpy and Atom.

Sam: My main friend and companion is my tablet, a wacom intuos S (pistachio color, so cute). As programs I mainly use the Paint Tool Sai, because there is nothing in this life like its stabilizer. And less frequently than I would like (for details, texture brushes, effects ...) I also use Clip Studio Paint, which I only know how to use at about 2% of its capacity ... If someday I have time I would love to stop and learn seriously what can be done with it.

Illy: During the school year I live in a residence, so I use an old laptop, and when I return home I use a desktop computer that never has memory space. I translate the chapters in the same Atom where the complete script is and I keep them in google drive files where I share them with our beta reader. I also use editing programs like photoshop when I have to translate comics or procreate for when my artistic skills are required.

Sher: ipad+procreate+some final tweak in photoshop, I don't need much more

What is your favorite part of the job?

Athe: Would it be wrong if I say that is when we released the episode? During the whole production time everything is very stressful, there are times when it’s really uphill, but when we release a new chapter it feels soooo good. It's like saying to yourself, yeah, dammit, I can do it. Look at everything you've climbed by yourself. You're doing it right.

Sam: In general, my favorite parts are when the first scenes start to be programmed, and I can see the sprites with the backgrounds, the texts, and how the illustrations look. Everything always looks so much better when viewed in-game… I also really like being able to check out the script as it is written. And from the artistic part that concerns me, when I see that my hands capture the idea that I had in my head ... Especially in character designs.

Illy: Having to find a way to translate very spanish expressions into English, research vocabulary that I have never had to use and commenting on some translations with our beta reader (which we adore) to make it understandable without losing the original meaning.

Sher: I like to do the lineart when the sketch is complete, if I no longer have to think about anything else and it's just going through it, I find it very fun and relaxing

What is the most difficult part for you?

Athe: Offf, yes, I admit it, sometimes writing is the WORST. Other times I love it, especially when I can expand on the descriptions or stop at a part that is intimate or that I find interesting (for example, Hasiel's conversation from 6.3, small spoiler: P). But, I HATE having to paste scenes, often the protagonist moves between scenes and you always have to add lines to those transitions that really do not interest anyone, but that otherwise the text would be confusing. Anyway... It is a very wide world, with a lot of history, I have to deal with what I need readers to know to understand the facts, although sometimes it gets a bit boring.

Sam: What part does not... Rather who e.e Zihel and Ariel are a thorn in my side. Especially Zihel. I know it has to do with the fact that it has never been my strength to draw boys, and much less if they are more masculine in appearance... That's why I also suffer a lot from drawing muscles. Another thing that brings me a headache is the perspective of the illustrations. Every time I try to get out of the typical shot or poses a little... It doesn't work out.

Illy: Doughy’s  stuttering ¬.¬

Sher: chairs, sofas, tables... anything with four legs is my enemy

Anything to help or encourage you while you are working?

Athe: I need music, no, seriously, I NEED IT. I’m unable to focus without it. If, on top of that, I can get what I hear to act as a sounding board for what I write, the text is a thousand times better... But the muse is a pretty bad person.

Sam: Having a show/movie in the background that entertains me. The longer the better, so I don't have to stop to think what I want to put on next.

Illy: Eating sunflower seeds to trick my brain and not be tempted to do something else that distracts me.

Sher: I try to see other artists to motivate and inspire me before I start drawing, what I find most difficult is that initial push and that is where I need the motivation, then I usually have something in the background but it is not necessary

Something that’s a pet peeve or discouraging?

Athe: Some narrative climax moments. Generally, they are not important plot moments (that is almost entirely decided), they are often small decisions to go from scene A to scene B, but I can spend a LOT of time deciding which is the fastest and best way to tie those two ends. I'm the worst.

Sam: Many times when starting, I can't get the poses to fit the way I want, for example.

Illy: Finding many parts in a row that I find especially difficult to solve and that make me believe that I have forgotten how to English properly. And looking at how many lines I still have left.

Sher: When I don't know how to fill in some area, if I see something very empty but I don't know how to solve it, I can spend days looking at the screen without being able to advance, even if I have other areas that I could do in the meantime

What is required on your table or work surface?

Athe: Notebooks, sticky notes, pens… I’m a person who writes everything down, especially the tasks, but I also order the story by color schemes. The stack of sticky notes have 9 different colors, each one represents a character and I play a lot with them for a lot of nonsense. Besides, even though I have been writing on the computer for many more years than I wrote by hand, I still have a preference for the analogical.

Sam: Coffee, sweets, chocolate, cereals... And cats.

Illy: My phone, the sunflower seeds, a Capital America: Civil War 1L water cup, sticky notes that remind me of tasks.

Sher: I have nothing really lol all my things are for decoration

Your most productive hours?

Athe: Owl. Totally nocturnal. Although I have several crises a month to force myself to work at other times that always end... Wrong.

Sam: Also at night for the most part, although I can no longer stay awake as long as I endured before having a job (the good old days...) However, in the middle of the afternoon, when the zoo that I have at home is still taking a nap, I also manage to go a long way.

Illy: From when I finish eating until 7 or 8 in the afternoon, when I don't have to cook, clean, run errands...

Sher: I take over for Illy apparently, from 7 or 8 is when I start to get into the mood until bedtime

Do working hours make you forget to eat or make you eat twice as much?

Athe: It depends, in the past I ate a lot, now if I have stress I don't eat anything. If I'm in a normal productive phase and I'm not on my nerves, I'm probably eating by inertia.

Sam: They make me eat more, but especially junk food e.e And they make me forget healthy meals, especially dinner at night.

Illy: It depends on my mood, but I usually eat twice as much.

Sher: I'm generally a VERY distracted person so I don't usually get to focus on a task to get to either of those two modes but I guess when I am sooooooo much on the task, I forget. But that happens like a couple of times a year and "forgetting" is "I delay an hour."

What part of your set up would you improve / change (in aesthetics or functionality) if you had no money limit?

Athe: I'm trying to match some of my peripherals with the rest. They are all a damn different color, apparently I'm cursed... Now seriously, I wish I had a better graphic card that would allow me to make video captures, some speakers and a quality printer.

Sam: Actually, I don't think I need anything more complex than what I already have… But if I had to improve something, I'm curious about the most professional tablets, the big ones with the included screen and all that stuff.

Illy: A new laptop that lets me open 4 chrome tabs, Atom and photoshop at the same time without dying.

Sher: A pc screen that will not change the colors I use on the iPad would be nice, really

Which character are you most like? And why?

Athe: Phew I think the easy answer would be to say Akane ... But, Akane is a better person. : P

Sam: This is very difficult... They are all very different, but still I do not think I look much like any of them. If I have to say something, I could identify with Maske's tendency to avoid problems, and his more homey and calm side. And well… Since Akane has been an OC of mine for many years, surely I have something of her too.

Illy: I think I partly have Maske's instinct to stay out of trouble, and on the other hand Joe's shallowness, although tbh I wish I really did look like any of our awesome babies.

Sher: surprised because (unpopular opinion around here) is one of those who I "least care" about really but I would say that Pin because he is a little dumb, happy and probably has a Satanic room and proud of it

Favorite CG/art.

Athe: AT THE MOMENT. Maske chapter 1. It couldn't be more predictable. I know.

Sam: I quite agree with Maske in chapter 1. But I would also put Pin in chapter 5 and Akane in chapter 6.2 on the top.

Illy: Kyeran in Coco's tank ?? Is he even real? Being basic is my brand.

Sher: surprised again and disappointed but I would say that of angel Hasiel because I like pretty dresses, pretty hairs and pretty wings

Favorite BG/scene.

Athe: The Red Light District amazes me. I already liked the life of that place, its history, but the way of expressing it... Uggg Sher took it to another level. The dirt on the street, the night, the constricted buildings...

Sam: I think I’ll say Raziel’s square, I like it a lot from the first day.

Illy: I don't know if I can choose just one T__T but I would say that the Red Light District and Valefar's pub are at the top.

Sher: for not repeating the red light district that I also like very much, I really like the areas of Coco's laboratory, including the “main” area although the perspective is horrible and makes the characters look tiny, but I like how it looks :(

Your favorite chapter to date?

Athe: Ufff... The first and second one I assure you no, hahaha. I will say that the third one, but also for things that are not necessarily from the chapter, but of the production. It was a good moment. I felt that everything was flowing with ease. We all assumed a clear role, they were times that made us feel comfortable and capable of assuming what came next, I think it was a qualitative leap also, both in texts and in art.

Sam: Oh. Well let's see... Chapter 5 is amazing for me, for everything that happens but also because there are many personalized interactions and choices. I can't say I have a definitive favorite, but it could come close… Also from the last ones I really like the 6.2.

Illy: Chapter 5 has so many details, so many things happen, it's hard not to be my favorite. But the last ones with the specific routes are so great that if I stay with the 5 it’s with the  pain of my heart to have to choose one.

Sher: I would say 5 also because in the end when a lot of things happen is when you remember the most

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No hay mejor forma de conocer a alguien que a través de un buen tag de preguntas. En este caso hemos decidido hacer un Indie game dev question tag con las respuestas de las cuatro desarrolladoras. Esperamos que os aclare muchas incógnitas, pero si os quedáis con alguna no dudéis en usar nuestro ask.

¿Qué parte del desarrollo del juego llevas a cabo?

Athe: Escribo, escribo, me derrito sobre mi asiento, corrijo, lloro y después programo. Es un ciclo sin fin. Ocasionalmente me río como una demente mientras como Pringles.

Sam: Dibujo y coloreo sin salirme de las líneas (casi siempre) los sprites, las ilustraciones y los desvaríos que suelen surgir a partir de las 3 de la mañana. 

Illy: Las traducciones a inglés.

Sher: Hago fonditos

¿Qué herramientas utilizas (hardware/software)?

Athe: Recientemente mi PC de sobremesa ha fallecido, así que he tenido que rescatar mi viejo PC del trastero, también tengo un portatil que me salva la vida más veces de las que me gustaría admitir. En cuanto al software, necesito, sobre todo, documentos de drive, programas de edición de video, imagen etc (tengo un paquete de Adobe) y por supuesto Renpy y Atom.

Sam: Mi principal amiga y compañera es mi tableta, una wacom intuos S (color pistacho, muy cuqui.) Como programas uso sobretodo el Paint Tool Sai, porque no hay nada en esta vida como su estabilizador. Y con menos frecuencia de lo que querría (para detalles, pinceles de texturas, efectos…) también utilizo el Clip Studio Paint, el cual sólo se usar como a un 2% de su capacidad… Si algún día tengo tiempo me encantaría pararme a aprender seriamente todo lo que se puede hacer con él. 

Illy: Durante el curso vivo en una residencia, así que uso un portatil del año que reinó carolo, y cuando vuelvo a mi casa un ordenador de sobremesa que nunca tiene espacio en la memoria. Los capítulos los traduzco en el mismo Atom en el que está el guión completo y los guardo en drive donde los comparto con nuestra beta reader. También uso programas de edición como photoshop cuando tengo que traducir viñetas o procreate para cuando mis habilidades artísticas son requeridas.

Sher: ipad+procreate+algún retoquito final en photoshop no necesito mucho más

¿Cuál es tu parte de favorita del trabajo?

Athe: ¿Estaría mal si digo que es cuando sacamos el episodio? Durante toda la producción todo es muy estresante, hay veces, que se hace realmente cuesta arriba, pero cuando liberamos un nuevo capítulo sienta taaaan bien. Es como decirte a ti misma, sí, joder, puedo hacerlo. Mira todo lo que has escalado tú solita. Lo estás haciendo bien.

Sam: En general, mis partes favoritas son cuando se empiezan a programar las primeras escenas, y puedo ver los sprites con los fondos, los textos, y cómo se ven las ilustraciones. Todo queda siempre mucho mejor cuando se ve dentro del juego… También me gusta mucho poder cotillear el guión conforme se va escribiendo. Y de la parte artística que me toca, cuando veo que mis manos plasman la idea que tenía en mi cabeza… Sobretodo en diseños de personajes. 

Illy: Tener que buscar la forma de traducir a inglés expresiones muy nuestras, investigar vocabulario que no he tenido que usar jamás y comentar algunas traducciones con nuestra beta reader (a la que adoramos) para conseguir que se entienda sin perder el significado original.

Sher: me gusta hacer el lineart cuando el sketch está completo, si ya no tengo que pensar nada más y es solo ir repasando me parece muy divertido y relajante

¿Cuál es la parte que más te cuesta?

Athe: Ufff, sí, lo admito, escribir a veces es lo PEOR. Otras me encanta, sobre todo, cuando puedo explayarme con las descripciones o detenerme en una parte íntima o que a mí me parece interesante (por ejemplo, la conversación de Hasiel del 6.3, pequeño spoiler :P). Pero, ODIO tener que empastar escenas, a menudo el protagonista se mueve de escenarios y hay que agregar siempre líneas a esas transiciones que realmente no interesan a nadie, pero que de lo contrario el texto quedaría mal montado. En fin… Es un mundo muy amplio, con mucha historia, tengo que lidiar con lo que necesito que los lectores sepan para entender los hechos, aunque a veces se haga un pelín peñazo.

Sam: Qué parte no… Quiénes, más bien e.e Zihel y Ariel son mi espinita. Especialmente Zihel. Sé que tiene que ver con el hecho de que nunca ha sido mi punto fuerte dibujar chicos, y menos si son de aspecto más masculino… Por eso también sufro mucho dibujando músculos. Otra cosa que me trae de cabeza es la perspectiva de las ilustraciones. Cada vez que intento salirme un poco del típico plano o poses… No sale bien. 

Illy: El tartamudeo de Doughy ¬.¬ 

Sher: sillas, sofás, mesas… cualquier cosa con cuatro patas son mis enemigos

¿Algo que te ayude o anime mientras estás trabajando?

Athe: Necesito música, no, en serio, LA NECESITO. Soy incapaz de concentrarme sin ella. Si ya consigo que lo que escucho haga de caja de resonancia de lo que escribo, el texto es mil veces mejor… Pero la musa es bastante mala gente.

Sam: Tener alguna serie/peli de fondo que me entretenga. Cuanto más larga mejor, así no me toca pararme a ver qué es lo que quiero poner después. 

Illy: Comer pipas para engañar a mi cerebro y no tener la tentación de ponerme a hacer otra cosa que me distraiga.

Sher: intento ver otros artistas para motivarme e inspirarme antes de empezar a dibujar, lo que más me cuesta es ese empujón inicial y es donde necesito la motivación, luego ya suelo tener algo de fondo pero no es necesario

¿Algo que te corte el rollo o te desmotive?

Athe: Los nudos narrativos. Generalmente, no son nudos gordos de la trama (eso está decidido casi en su totalidad), a menudo son decisiones pequeñas para pasar de la escena A a la escena B, pero puedo tirarme MUCHO tiempo decidiendo cuál es la forma más rápida y mejor planteada para atar esos dos cabos. Soy lo peor.

Sam: Muchas veces a la hora de empezar, no conseguir encajar las poses como quiero, por ejemplo. 

Illy: Encontrar muchas partes seguidas que me cueste especialmente resolver y que me hacen creer que no tengo ni idea de hablar inglés. Y mirar cuantas líneas me quedan todavía.

Sher: cuando no se como rellenar alguna zona, si veo algo muy vacío pero no se como solucionarlo puedo tirarme días mirando la pantalla sin ser capaz de avanzar, incluso aunque tenga otras zonas que pudiera ir haciendo mientras

¿Qué no puede faltar en tu mesa o superficie de trabajo?

Athe: Libretas, post-its, bolígrafos… Soy una persona que lo anota todo, sobre todo, las tareas, pero también ordeno la historia por esquemas de colores. La pila de post-its tienen 9 colores diferentes, cada uno representa un personaje y juego mucho con ellos para miles de idioteces. A parte, a pesar de que llevo muchos más años escribiendo a ordenador de los que escribí a mano, sigo teniendo querencia a lo físico.

Sam: Café, chucherías, chocolate, cereales… Y gatos. 

Illy: El móvil, las pipas, un vaso de 1L de agua de Capital America: Civil War, post-its que me recuerdan las tareas.

Sher: no tengo nada realmente lol todas mis cosas son de adorno 

¿Tus horas más productivas?

Athe: Búho. Nocturna totalmente. A pesar de que tengo varias crisis al mes para forzarme a trabajar a otras horas que acaban siempre… Mal.

Sam: También por la noche en su mayoría, aunque ya no aguanto trasnochando tanto como antes de trabajar (qué tiempos aquellos…) Aunque a media tarde cuando el zoo que tengo en casa aún está echando la siesta también consigo dar un buen empujón. 

Illy: Desde que acabo de comer hasta las 7 o las 8 de la tarde, cuando no tengo que cocinar, limpiar, hacer recados...

Sher: le tomo el testigo a Illy aparentemente, a partir de las 7 u 8 es cuando empiezo a entrar en el mood hasta que llega la hora de dormir

¿Las horas de trabajo hacen que te olvides de comer o te hacen comer el doble?

Athe: Depende, antes comía mucho, ahora, si tengo estrés no como nada. Si me encuentro en un rango productivo normal y no estoy de los nervios, probablemente, esté comiendo por inercia.

Sam: Me hacen comer más, pero sobretodo porquerías e.e Y hacen que me olvide de las comidas sanas, sobretodo de cenar por la noche. 

Illy: Depende de mi estado de ánimo, pero normalmente comer el doble.

Sher: en general soy una persona MUY distraída así que no suelo conseguir centrarme en una tarea para llegar a ninguno de esos dos modos pero supongo que cuando estoy muuuuuuy dentro de la tarea, me olvido. Pero eso pasa como un par de veces al año y “olvido” es “lo retraso una hora”.

¿Qué parte de tu set up mejorarías/cambiarías (en estética o funcionalidad) si no tuvieses límite de dinero?

Athe: Estoy tratando de que alguno de mis periféricos peguen con el resto. Todos son de un maldito color diferente, al parecer estoy maldita… Ahora en serio, desearía tener una mejor gráfica que me permitiese hacer videocapturas, unos altavoces y una impresora de calidad.

Sam: En realidad, no creo que necesitara nada más complejo de lo que ya tengo… Pero por mejorar, me llaman la atención las tabletas más profesionales, las grandes con la pantalla incluida y eso. 

Illy: Un portátil nuevo que me deje abrir 4 pestañas de chrome, el Atom y photoshop al mismo tiempo sin quedarse tieso.

Sher: Una pantalla de pc que no me cambiara los colores que uso en el ipad seria bonito la verdad 

¿A qué personaje te pareces más? ¿Y por qué?

Athe: Ufff Creo que la respuesta fácil sería decir Akane… Pero, Akane es mejor persona. :P

Sam: Esto es muy complicado… Son todos muy distintos, pero aún así no creo que me parezca mucho a ninguno. Por decir algo, me podría identificar con la tendencia a evitar problemas de Maske, y su lado más casero y tranquilo. Y bueno… Dado que Akane es OC mío de hace muchos años, seguramente tenga algo de ella también. 

Illy: Creo que en parte tengo el instinto de alejarme de las movidas de Maske, y por otro la superficialidad de Joe, aunque tbh ojalá parecerme realmente a nuestros bebés geniales.

Sher: sorprendida porque (unpopular opinión por aquí) es de los que “menos me importan” realmente pero diría que Pin porque es tontito, feliz y probablemente tenga una habitación satánica y orgulloso de ello

Tu CG/arte favorito.

Athe: DE MOMENTO. Maske capítulo 1. No podría ser más predecible. Lo sé.

Sam: Coincido bastante en la de Maske del capítulo 1. Pero también metería en el top la de Pin del capítulo 5 y la de Akane del capítulo 6.2. 

Illy: ¿¿Kyeran en el tanque de Coco?? ¿Es siquiera real? Ser básica es mi marca.

Sher: sorprendida de nuevo y decepcionada pero diría que la de Hasiel de ángel porque me gustan los vestidos bonitos, los pelos bonitos y las alas bonitas

Tu BG/escenario favorito.

Athe: Me flipa el Barrio Rojo. Me gusta la vida de ese sitio, su historia, pero la forma de plasmarlo… Uggg Sher lo llevó a otro nivel. La suciedad de la calle, la nocturnidad, los edificios constreñidos...

Sam: Creo que me quedo con el de la plaza de Raziel, me gusta mucho desde el primer día. 

Illy: No sé si puedo elegir solo uno T__T pero diría que el Barrio Rojo y el bar de Valefar están en el top.

Sher: por no repetir el barrio rojo que también me gusta mucho, me gustan mucho las zonas del laboratorio de Coco, incluida la zona “principal” aunque la perspectiva sea horrible y haga a los pj parecer diminutos, pero me gusto como quedo :( 

¿Tu capítulo favorito hasta las fecha?

Athe: Ufff… El uno y el dos os aseguro que no, jajaja. Diré que el tres, pero también por cosas que no son necesariamente del capítulo, sino de la producción. Fue un buen momento. Sentí que todo estaba fluyendo con facilidad. Todas asumimos un rol claro, unos tiempos que nos hacían sentir cómodas y capaces de asumir lo que venía después, creo que fue un salto cualitativo también, tanto en los textos, como en el arte.

Sam: Ay. Pues a ver… El capítulo 5 es una pasada para mi, por todo lo que pasa pero también porque hay muchas interacciones personalizadas y elecciones. No puedo decir que tenga un favorito definitivo, pero podría acercarse… También me gusta mucho de los últimos el 6.2. 

Illy: El capítulo 5 tiene tantos detalles, pasan tantas cosas, que es difícil que no sea mi favorito, pero los ultimos de rutas específicas son tan geniales que si me quedo con el 5 es con un poco de dolor de tener que elegir uno.

Sher: Diría el 5 también porque al final cuando pasan muchas cosas es cuando mas se te queda grabado

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[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

I know I can’t stand you, but please stay anyway? (pt 4)

Pt1|Last Chapter| Ao3

Warnings: Family Christmas, Arguing (really more like bickering, though), Profanity, a lot of original characters

Pairings: Moceit

Patton hates lying. Patton never tells lies. Patton has told a massive lie. Ethan can’t stand Patton. He has no reason to ever help him. Except, of course, the most obvious one. A fake relationship, a family Christmas, and other shenanigans ensue

“Patton! Welcome home sweetheart, it’s so good to see you!”

“Mum!”

The door opened to reveal a smiling individual in a Christmas sweater who Ethan could only assume was Pauline Hart.

Almost instantly, Patton’s slightly tense expression from earlier disappeared as he embraced his mother, and the two gushed briefly about how happy they were to see each other, how handsome Patton had gotten, how wonderful the lights looked, how fun the week would be, and the possibility of snow later in the week. Neither of them stopped to take a breath or stopped smiling at any point in the exchange. Definitely Patton’s mother.

Patton finally drew away, smiling guiltily at Ethan as if he’d forgotten his presence.

“Uh, Mum? This is…um, this is him. My, um, I mean, this is Ethan.”

Mrs Hart beamed, looking at him as if she didn’t even notice how out of place Ethan’s long, messy hair and dark clothing looked in her incredibly immaculate hallway. Ethan almost felt bad that his entire acquaintance with this woman was about to be based on a lie. Did the entire family possess some kind of weird super power that compelled people around them to be nice?

Well, one could still argue that the goodness of helping and possibly wooing Patton outweighed the badness of lying to a woman he barely knew, so Ethan didn’t feel too guilty for putting on a polite smile and extending his hand.

“It’s an absolute pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am,”

She completely disregarded his hand, instead pulling him into a warm hug.

“Oh, it’s so wonderful to meet you too, sweetie! And please, there are no formalities in this household, okay? When you’re here, you can call me Pauline, or if you’re comfortable with it, you can call me ‘mum’, most of Patton’s little friends do, but either away, I don’t want to hear any of this ‘ma’am’ nonsense, alright?”

Ethan couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Patton to see him struggling not to inform Pauline that they weren’t ‘actually’ friends.

“Come on in loves, you must be exhausted, how was your journey?” She ushered them into a cozy living room, already decorated for Christmas, with what Ethan personally considered an inordinate amount of tinsel on literally every surface. He did appreciate the Santa hats taped over family pictures though.

Patton looked equal parts impressed and mildly annoyed as Pauline pressed tea into both of their hands and Ethan sat slightly too close to him as he complimented Pauline on her impeccable taste in quirky throw pillows.

(His personal favourite was one with scrabble pieces spelling out ‘puns not dead’. He was starting to see where Patton’s entire personality originated from.)

“Oh, Ethan you’re far too sweet. Patton, why on earth would you wait so long to invite him home?”

“Mum…” Patton muttered, turning slightly red.

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question, honey. Ethan, don’t you think it’s more than reasonable for a mother to wonder what kind of man her son has been seeing for more than three years?”

“Mum!”

“I’m just asking a question! Especially when your young man is this lovely Patton, I’m almost astounded at your lack of manners here, mister.”

Ethan decided to rescue him.

“Actually Pauline, I’m afraid that in this instance you have me to blame. Patton has been pushing for this meeting for years. I actually kept putting it off, because the prospect of disappointing two people so important to Patton was too daunting to face. I’m so sorry for any concern I may have caused you.”

Ethan gagged internally. He sounded like Roman trying to get his way. It was effective in this instance however, with Pauline giving him a touched look and waving away his apology.

“Well it’s very sweet of you to worry, but I assure you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about here. As long as you’re making Patton happy, I’ve got absolutely no problems with you.”

Ethan ignored Patton’s pointed look. That kind of thing was very easy to say, but he knew better than to take it at face value. Pauline certainly seemed like a nice woman, but so did most sweet old white ladies when one had only spoken to them for fifteen minutes.

“Well, now that you are here, why don’t you tell me more about yourself, Ethan? I feel like I barely know you at all! Every time I tried asking this one more about you, he’d start making excuses and try to get off the phone- I was starting to think you might not be real!”

Patton flushed beet red, opening his mouth as if to protest, before shutting it again in favour of burying his face in a pillow that claimed “Stay Pawsitive” (Complete with an illustration of a corgi).

He grew increasingly squirmier as Ethan made polite conversation with Pauline, about his plans for his future, surprised to find that he was actually enjoying himself somewhat. Clearly, he had a knack for impressing mothers. If things with Patton didn’t work out, he could start a very lucrative career as a fake boyfriend-for-hire.

“Mum, when does Vivian get home?” Patton cut in, apparently tired of having Ethan monopolizing his mother’s attention. “She said she’ll be arriving today.”

“She is, sweetheart, your dad’s just gone to pick her and Andre up. You know, the airport’s so far away, and they have a toddler to keep track of, so I insisted he go and give them a hand.” She turned her attention back to Ethan almost immediately. “But, Patton, you never told me you were dating a lawyer in the making!”

Patton rolled his eyes as discreetly as he could whilst Ethan preened under the attention. Was it petty of him to enjoy this so much despite how much it was clearly irritating Patton? Probably, but he was having far too much fun to stop now.

“Mum, I think Ethan is tired!” He cut in for the second time, now looking over at Ethan. “He was just saying, how he always gets worn out by travelling, weren’t you? Can I show him up to my room, and then you and I can catch up while he gets some rest?”

“That’s really not necessary-“ Ethan protested. He didn’t want to go upstairs when he’d just begun enjoying himself! When was the last time someone gushed over him like this?

“He’s just being shy mum, E’s always so worried about coming across as rude, but he hardly ever gets as much sleep as he should, and it’s really, really important to me that he use this vacation finally rest.”

Almost instantaneously, Pauline’s polite but happy demeanour gave way to a grim look filled with pure, terrifying, motherly concern. Ethan got the feeling that if he didn’t get himself upstairs immediately, he would be forcibly tucked in with a bedtime story.

“Well, Ethan, that just won’t do!”

“Really, ma’am, I-“

“Now, I know you young people are very ambitious these days, thinkin’ you can just stay up all night studying and then go to class the next day-“

“It’s not quite like that-“ It was, in fact, almost exactly like that, but she didn’t need to know that.

“But there is nothing more important than your own health! I’m sure you’re a very smart boy, but I don’t want to hear of you overworking yourself like that, okay?”

“… yes, ma’am.”

Pauline peered at him over her glasses, somehow managing to look far more intimidating than her son ever had, despite the fact that she was probably smaller than even Patton.

“And what have I told you about calling me ma’am?”

“Yes…Pauline?”

“Better. Now, I’ve set up Patton’s room for the two of you, it’s the first door on the left upstairs. I’d like you to go upstairs and rest yourself, please. As I said before, there are no formalities in this household, and I won’t hear of you depriving yourself of much needed rest for the sake of impressing me, okay?”

“…okay.” His voice came out far meeker than he was expecting.

Patton grinned at him far too sweetly. “Do you want me to show you the way?”

Fortunately, the sudden reminder that he was far sneakier than his cat pyjamas suggested only served to make Ethan more attracted to him.

He grinned at Patton, matching the other’s saccharine sweetness perfectly. “Very kind of you to offer, darling, but I think I’ll be okay.”

—

Not that he’d ever previously put any thought into the matter, but Patton’s childhood bedroom was exactly what he’d expected it would be. It had clearly been kept lovingly exactly the same as it must have been when Patton left for uni – from the collection of worn soft toys in the corner, to the collage of notes, postcards, and photos of a young Patton with an assortment of smiling friends. He recognized and took a quick picture of a baby-faced Logan in a too large tie to send to Virgil later.

“You know, you could probably give Ro a run for his money.” He whirled around to see Patton standing in the doorway, a wry smile on his face. “You’re surprisingly good at acting.”

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs bonding, or whatever?”

Patton pouted, making his way over to his bed. “Mum said it would be rude of me to leave you alone like this and sent me up. I expect we’ll be pushed together like this quite a lot over the week.”

Ethan gasped, bringing his hand up to his chest in mock horror. “You mean to tell me your parents expect us, a supposed couple of more than three years, to enjoy spending time together? Tell me it isn’t so!” He sat next to Patton. “You poor thing, stuck with your worst enemy all week long. Next thing you know, they’ll expect you to actually sit through a conversation with me present without getting huffy.”

Patton blushed, frowning down at his lap. “I don’t consider you my worst enemy.” He mumbled.

“Oh? Then you have someone you hate more than me?”

“I don’t hate you, Ethan!” Patton burst out, before immediately being silenced by Ethan’s hand over his mouth. “Mmph, what are you-“

“Oh, I’m sorry, have you forgotten that your mother is in the house? Or is your intention to make her think that we’re on the verge of breaking up?”

Patton looked slightly sheepish as Ethan removed his hand, continuing at a quieter volume. “I don’t hate you, I just,” he trailed off with a sigh “I do wish you were nicer sometimes.”

Ethan hummed, leaning closer to Patton and running his hand up his freckled arm. Patton frowned at the contact, but he didn’t move away. “Right, because you always react so well to my attempts at being nice to you.” He murmured the words softly in Patton’s ear, hoping his quiet voice would prompt Patton to look him in the eye.

It didn’t. He could see that Patton was biting the inside of his cheeks, an action Ethan had come to associate with his nervousness.

“I can never tell when you’re actually being nice.” Patton finally spoke, fiddling with his shirt. “You’re always making fun of me, specifically of me; you don’t mess with the others nearly as much, anyone would think you hated me.”

“As if I could hate you,” Ethan scoffed, ignoring Patton’s disbelieving look, “You’re always so nice, and kind.”

For fucks sake, he knew he was telling the truth and he barely believed himself. Why could he never just be straightforward when it came to this guy?

“See, this is what I mean! This is what I mean, you can’t even say something nice about me without sounding like you’re making fun!”

Ethan opened his mouth to protest but Patton was already shaking his head, clearly unwilling to continue this line of conversation.

“You know what, never mind. I mean, it hardly matters. Either way, I’m thankful that you’re helping me out. I’m sure we can act normal around each other for the next week, right? And then we’ll only ever have to see each other when all our friends are around!”

He offered him another obviously, horribly, fake grin, and Ethan’s gut twisted.

Yes, obviously, that’s what I want, I’ve agreed to come out with you to the middle of fucking nowhere and interact with your entire family, because I saw you distraught and couldn’t handle it until you were happy again, because I want to stop interacting with you.

Predictably, he didn’t say any of this. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at Patton, drawing away slightly. “Right, because we’ve been so good at acting normal so far, I can’t imagine that’ll present any issues at all.”

Patton frowned at him, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing; I’m certainly not referring to the fact that you consistently jump ten feet in the air every time I touch you or move near you, in fact, I’m sure most normal couple dynamics also include one person consistently regarding the other as if they’re afraid of them.”

Patton blushed furiously, hissing at him, “I am not afraid of you- no, don’t look at me like that, I’m not! You just, you just startle me sometimes, that’s all! You can’t just randomly start acting all…funny, without any kind of warning!”

“So, you’re telling me that if I just asked you for a kiss right now, you’d have no problem with complying?”

Well, that definitely wasn’t pushing his luck at all.

“Actually, yeah, I think that’d be nice. You know, I’d just like some warning if you’re going to, um.” Patton drew off as he saw Ethan raise his eyebrows.

“So, if I asked you for a kiss right now…” he repeated, a smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t like he expected Patton to say yes, more likely he’d just roll his eyes and glare cutely at him all over again, and frankly, that was fine by him.

“Okay.”

Wait, what?

Patton looked slightly nervous, but he said, “I mean, we probably will have to, um, at some point, and I’d rather the first time at least be without an audience so we don’t get to nervous, I guess, so yeah, if you want to-“

Oh. Well, he was certainly prepared for this. It definitely wasn’t like he’d ever imagined kissing Patton before. In fact, this was exactly how he’d always wanted it to go. It wasn’t like imagining it was any different to it actually happening. Oh, god, his heart definitely wasn’t beating any faster at all.

“Um, E? You okay? Were you being serious about, uh, or-“

Patton was offering him an out. He could just say he’d been joking; he wouldn’t have to-

He kissed Patton.

For someone who’d blushed and stuttered every time he tried to talk about it, Patton was kissing him back with surprising conviction, gripping the front of his shirt as he chased his lips. Fuck, now Ethan really hoped he was able to make some sort of sincere move by the end of the week, because he really didn’t want to have to move on from this.

Patton’s smiled at him shyly as they separated. “Alright?”

Ethan couldn’t resist.

“Oh, more than alright, Patton. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I might even say you’ve done this before”

This time, his teasing had exactly the intended effect.

Patton’s smile disappeared. “I’ve kissed people before, you jerk,” he muttered, before tugging him back in so he could bite at his lower lip.

Ethan was only too happy to return the favour.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!”

The two men jerked apart, turning towards the door.

“Vivian?”

Taglist:

@lunatatic

[imagines-dreams]

Tony’s Suit - Tony Stark Imagine

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, if that still applies, and mentions and nods to PTSD, anxiety, and death

Summary: The night before you have to time travel to save the world, you’re up checking everyone’s equipment. Your husband’s included. But something’s not quite right.

Word Count: 1784

Notes: I wrote this in an hour and didn’t edit it but I have feelings about that interview and this is how I deal with them so.... enjoy!

For once in your life, you were the one working well into the night and your husband was sound asleep. To be fair, he had stayed up for the past few nights, working on this time travel thing and finding out where the infinity stones were before the big day. 

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply. 

The more you thought about the next day, the more anxious you got. The Avengers were going to attempt time travel and maybe save the half of the universe you lost. You had only one shot, and lord knows it doesn’t always work out for the heroes.

You shook your head. No, you couldn’t think about that. Those thoughts were for tomorrow. Not now.

Now, you were checking equipment and suits, adding upgrades where you could. Ordering Friday to strengthen Steve’s suit, it had been worn and torn a bit. Restocking Clint’s arrows and telling any awake employees to find as many as they could. Never hurt to bring extra.

Then, yours. Tony told you that he had checked yours and his already, but it couldn’t hurt to double check. It wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway.

You checked the stats on your Rescue suit. Not too bad. A bit much on the defense system, but you couldn’t complain. Tony built the suit for you, his wife, after all. You wouldn’t expect anything less. You recalibrated the suit, made sure you were comfortable moving around in it and got familiar with the different weapons before stepping out and smiling at it. 

Tony really outdoes himself sometimes.

Then, to his suit and that damn gauntlet. 

Tony had improved his suits since the Mark 1. From new foot thrusters to nanotech, your brain kept telling you that you wouldn’t be able to improve the gauntlet or the suit. You knew you were smart, but Tony smart? Nah, that was his thing. 

So surely, his suit would be fine.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to check. 

Gauntlet held up to what it should. It was the best he could build. Sturdy, dense, it was the best iron glove anyone could get that gives enough stretch and flexibility to snap and strength to at least hold off some damage from five infinity stones.

You nodded and put it away.

Tony’s suit. The Iron Man Mark something. 

…

Those numbers… They couldn’t be right. You ran them again. 

…

The same numbers.

You couldn’t be doing this right. You gulped. “Friday?”

“Mrs. Stark, the Captain America suit has been upgraded according to your specifications, and all of Black Widow’s-”

“Yes, thank you, but can you run stats on this suit?”

“Would you like me to bring up the numbers Mr. Stark recorded?”

“No.” No, you didn’t trust Tony’s written numbers. Not when he knew you could find them. “No, Friday, scan this suit, the one in front of me, and give me its current stats.”

“Mrs. Stark-”

“Now, Friday.”

“Right away, Miss.” The numbers appeared in front of you. Same damn numbers. 

You rubbed your eyes. Maybe you were just sleep deprived. Maybe you were hallucinating. Not enough food or water. You were just paranoid. That had to be it. 

“Friday, bring up Rescue’s stats, please.”

They appeared side by side with Tony’s.

Tony’s weapons and power were maxed out. Every weapon he could make nanotech was integrated into the suit. You could wave your hand, and it would become a tank.

But those numbers didn’t surprise you.

It was his defense systems. If Friday ran the numbers correctly, and she always did, your suit had a 7000% more effective defense system than Tony’s. He had a shield, sure, a good shield, yes, but the rest of it? 

Thanos tore the last model apart, and this suit in front of you was even weaker than that one. If he had to face Thanos, which all of you would have to do inevitably, he would be going in guns blazing. Nothing else. Just offense. Until he…

“Friday!” your voice pierced the night air, and if you listened carefully, everything inside the compound went still. “Wake Tony the fuck up and tell him to come here.”

“Should I tell him why you’re requesting this?”

“No.” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “He’ll find out.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt so much that the soft cotton had become rough between your fingers. Your heart pounded against your chest, and the blood in your head rushed to accommodate the racing thoughts you couldn’t stop. 

Tony knew what tomorrow was. He knew that he was going to time travel and face Thanos again. He knew that. 

So why the fuck did he not upgrade his suit accordingly?

A part of you knew why. The sad, depressing, pessimistic side of you knew exactly why. It was the part of you that saw Tony threaten a terrorist on live television. It was the part of you that saw all the unread protocols and safety precautions. It was the part of you that knew it was Tony who flew into that damn wormhole, even though the footage was still gritty and the reporters said An unknown hero appears to have flown into a hole in the sky with a missile or bomb of some sorts.

God, you loved Tony. He was your everything, and every time he did something like that, something like not even caring to up the defenses on his suit, he never realized that he was carving out your heart. 

The worst part is, he wasn’t doing it selfishly. He was doing it for the greater good. For other people. For the people he loves and for the people he doesn’t know. For the world.

He just never realized that he was your world.

“Babe, I thought you insisted on having bedtimes?” He laughed but stopped. There was a silent pause, and you knew he saw the holograms and the statistics, and he knew you knew. He knew, and his first reaction was to bite his lip and sigh. “(Y/n)-”

“No.” You shook your head and turned to face him. “No, you don’t get to talk.” You wiped your nose and pointed at the numbers. “Seven thousand percent, Tony? Seven thousand? All the guns and whistles and a fucking tank, and no defense system.”

“I have a shield.”

“You have a thin wall of metal to protect you.”

“And that’s all that I need!”

“You need?” You laughed. 

“Yes!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve fought these guys before, I know what I need.”

You shook your head. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t lie. Not to you, (Y/n).”

“Yes, you do. Right now, you’re lying to me and to yourself, because, Tony, when you say that a sheet of metal is all you need to defend yourself against a titan who could get six infinity stones along with his alien army, what you’re really saying is that you don’t need to…” You couldn’t say it. You covered your mouth, and tears sprung in your eyes. 

Tony’s eyes suddenly went soft. He reached out to you, ready to pull you into a hug, let you cry, and bring you back to bed where the nightmares of tomorrow wouldn’t touch you.

Instead of falling right back into him, you shove him away. “No.” You sniffed. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to decide that the world is more important than you.” You took a deep breath tilted your head back. “God, Tony, the world doesn’t deserve you.” You smiled at him, tears in your eyes and nose stuffed, and you could see the tears and disbelief in his eyes. 

“Whatever it takes,” he whispered. “I need to do everything I can. If I don’t,” he shrugged, “then it’s on me.”

You bit your lip. You’ve been with Tony for years. You’ve been with the Avengers for years, and you know that no matter what you say, they always blame themselves. 

Still, you shoved your doubts and experience away and reached out to cradle his cheeks. “No, it’s not. It’s not all on you.” You rubbed patterns into his stubble and skin as if trying to ingrain your message there. You pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips and wrapped your arms around him. You heard the thrumming of his heartbeat, almost like a lullaby, a song you could sing no matter how long it’s been since you last heard it.

And when he wrapped his arms around you and his warmth surround you, you were back home. 

You giggled against his chest. “This, right here, is what I love.” You looked up at him and smiled. “Whether you like it or not, I love you, and, yes, I care about the universe and about the people we save, but I care about you more.” You patted his chest, right over his heart. “And if the universe offered me everyone in exchange for this, I wouldn’t take it.

“And I know that you’re already conflicted. You care so much about the world and that you feel like you owe it something. And I know I won’t be able to convince you otherwise, but let me just say, that you, Anthony Edward Stark, mechanic, nerd, husband, father, you are my world.” You shrugged. “So, if you’re not going to upgrade your suit, you better be damn sure that I will. Cause, Tony, you weren’t able to build a shield around the world.” You brushed away his tears. “But I will build a shield around mine.” 

You smiled up at him, kissed him, and went back to his suit. “Friday, analyze Rescue and bring up the defense mechanisms and protocols on the screen.”

“Of course, Mrs. Stark.”

Line after line of data and protocol appeared in front of you. You stared at it for a second before pointing at a line you were unfamiliar with. 

Tony smiled. “Friday, make copies of all compatible defense protocols from Rescue and transfer said copies into Mark 85.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Tony stood next to you and smiled. “If we’re gonna update my suit, we’ll need some coffee.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“No.” He pulled you closer and kissed your head. “Thank you.” 

Two days later, when Tony woke up in the Avengers compound, he was missing an arm, and his shoulder was a bit stiff, but you were right there, smiling and crying and kissing his face over and over again until finally settling on resting your forehead on his. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

You laughed. “Told you so.”

[incognito-lionbeast]

The Right Kind of Idiot, Ch. 1-5

[part one]: tl;dr Lio & Galo have a heart to heart, Galo does most of the talking [part two]: tl;dr Aina appears & tries to enforce [Galo’s] bedtime [part three]: t;dr Aina tries convincing a suspicious Lio to let her join him in his trek to meet up with Gueira & Meis [part four, read more]: tl;dr Aina & Lio meet up with his lieutenants, it’s a little awkward

Right, thanks for the vote of confidence, guys. Really helps. Well, one of them was being more genuinely helpful than the rest, passing off the colourful box of sweets to the round, coveting eyes of a few children. Survivors, elated by the gift of something they probably hadn’t had in far too long. She crouched, rifling through her own collection of things and sorting them into lots. A rescuer’s work was never really done, was it?

Her smile was one of reserved confidence, although privately entertained by how the other two slowly had their personal space fully invaded by some of the smaller children. Burnish, Aina assumed. Why else would they be so comfortable? It was cute; she was thankful. She wouldn’t stop being thankful for their patience--for Gueira and Meis, for Lio. So, sitting on her heels, she greeted in soft tones, “My name’s Aina. I’m from the third Burning Rescue unit, and I’ll be spending the night with you, if that’s okay?”

Several sets of eyes were on her, including those of her helpers. Really, Aina had never felt more out of place in her life, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear--for once wishing, maybe, she’d brought Galo with her. He was an idiot, but he had the sort of charisma that no one was immune to for long. Yet, it couldn’t be helped. Galo was sleeping--hopefully--and she was here now. Alone. She could do this. “I brought food and supplies enough for everyone, so try not to fill up on candy too much. I’ll never hear the end of it if the others find out I gave you all tummy aches.”

Quiet. This was going well. Scanning over the faces of their little flock, at least no one looked injured. Without examining them, she couldn’t be totally certain, but Aina’s trust was with the two Lieutenants; they would have told her. For now, she offered water, food, and the warmth of a few blankets--distributed with the hesitant acceptance of a homeowner feeding stray cats until, eventually, Aina was satisfied that they’d been cared for. They were cared about. How many of them had homes, parents to return to?

Aina, forced out of her thoughts by a crudely folded slip of paper jabbing her in the side, yipped in surprise. Gueira. Temporarily untangled from his kin, he’d produced it from a jacket pocket moments prior. After all, what better way to do as he’d been told than make a small spectacle of it? Maybe lighten the mood a little, because God knew they could all use it. He flashed his teeth, “We got as many names as we could. You said that’d help, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you,” she stammered, unfolding the--it was the guest sign in sheet from reception, nice--paperwork to quickly skim over its contents. Huh. It was more than just names. Ages, a few hastily written descriptions, possible family, and a handful of other small details--not for all of them, but the effort wouldn’t go unappreciated. Even if they had to interview everyone again individually come morning, it helped to have something to reference later. Who knows, they could’ve been more open around someone less Official.

“I'm really grateful for your help,” Aina added, tucking their notes away someplace safe. Then, offering the best totally-not-exhausted smile she could muster, “--all of you. I know I said it earlier, but I don’t want you to start thinking that I don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah...” Gueira waved off. He didn’t what else to do with the praise or if he trusted it completely, but a truce was a truce. And, looking back over to his spot--now overrun in his absence, shit--he plopped himself down right where he was. Could be worse. Could be better, but Aina was one of the more tolerable firefighters by his estimate. “We don’t need convincing.”

So he said, worried that she’d keep piling it on otherwise. They weren’t doing anything they wouldn’t have done otherwise--their application and a few of the faces were just a little different. No one was getting left stranded on their watch. No one was getting captured, either. That was what had taken the most effort to convince him, Meis, and, hell, probably even Lio of--the Burnish leader sitting not more than ten feet away, knuckles buried in his cheek and wrapped in one of the donated blankets.

It was all quite the scene.

“Alright, alright.. any more and I’ll probably start sounding like Galo, anyway.” Aina stretched, tugging her hair out of its ponytail to run her fingers through.The following pause, interspersed with the sound children who would soon wind down to sleep, made her thoughtful. Once tomorrow came, the survivors would be evacuated somewhere safe, and their day would begin again something like how it had been the past several hours. Yet, what about after that? So focused on her work, Aina hadn’t really stopped to consider what happened to ones leftover.

The ones who didn’t need saving. Her eyes met Lio’s, “What will you do when this is over? I’m sure Galo wants you to stay, but... I know things are more complicated than the desires of one man.”

She only enforced his presence for as long as the recovery effort needed them, and even that was more of a heartfelt suggestion than a demand. Lio’s knuckles left an imprint where he’d been leaning; he’d been thinking about it, too, and while he couldn’t admit it around all of these people... Lio needed to be strong in the face of uncertainty. Some of them would want to return to normal lives, and he wouldn’t begrudge them that. Rather, for them and for all of the Burnish, he knew Galo was right. They had to keep fighting. It was the how and where he wasn’t sure of yet. Or if the Powers That Be would allow them peace. Especially him.

Saving the world didn’t always matter when it came to politics.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Meis answered. He’d take the bullet if he had to, idly flipping his hair over one shoulder. “--firefighter. No offense, but it’s better for us if you don’t.”

Wind taken out of her sails, Aina sighed, although the faux melancholy didn’t last long. It was her turn to leave knuckle-marks on her cheek, leaning forward cross-legged and eyebrows raised with playful incredulity. Meis was the recipient of a single, lopsided shrug. “You’re probably right.. I wasn’t planning to tell anyone, but I definitely can’t tell what I don’t know.”

“--fire starter.” All three of them, but Meis and Gueira especially-so. Yet, somehow, Aina found herself slowly becoming endeared to them. Suppose working together--and working well together--did that to you, if Lio and Galo were any example. Meis didn’t even argue, because, well, she wasn’t wrong. Hell yeah, they were fire starters. They had to be on the same page about something, right?

Lio was thankful. If this was the worst they behaved together, then perhaps he could rest. Yet, there was follow-up that begged asking, “What about you? What will the Burning Rescue become without the Promare?”

“Er,” Aina straightened some. “I guess we’ll go back to being regular firemen. It’ll take some adapting... in our unit, Ignis is the only one old enough to remember the world without Burnish fires. Though, I feel like Galo’s the most prepared for this.”

She shook her head, chuckling quietly to herself. Sorry if you didn’t want a story, guys, but she had one. And she was tired uninhibited enough to launch into it with little provocation other than simple sentimentality. “You should have seen him on his first day. No mecha, no real world experience. Just a homemade Matoi and the stubbornness to not take no for an answer. He shouldn’t have even come with, but Galo somehow convinced the chief to let him spectate from the sidelines.”

“He’s an idiot.” Both of Lio’s lieutenants nodded. Made sense. They were fine with story time if that was the premise. Although, the reality of Aina’s story hadn’t dawned on her yet. “There was a woman trapped in the building. I don’t know how we missed her, but we’re a small team. We've got our hands full with the other survivors, so what does Galo do?”

A pause for effect. Rhetorical question. “He launches himself into the building with no protection other a thick coat of extinguishing gel. We all thought he was crazy! He IS crazy, and I don’t know how he did it--but he saved her. At least...”

This time the pause wasn’t for effect, blinking, glancing between Gueira and Meis as if she’d just had the revelation of the century. Aina covered her mouth, briefly, unable to decide what she wanted to say. Yet, she sure needed to say it, waving one hand for all the room to see. “--that was you two, wasn’t it? You took her.”

“How didn’t I realise this until now?” Her words blended together in quick succession, incredulous and mostly at her own embarrassing lack of awareness. Her face was red. They shrugged. Now that she mentioned it, the situation sounded familiar. She was familiar, but they hadn’t stuck around that long. Remembering who or which firefighters they’d been messing with that day was never a priority.

“You caught us,” Gueira guffawed to the dismay of the few sleeping around him. “Guess we’ve known each other a while. Does that change your opinion of us, missy?”

This was the first time Lio heard about it. It was before his time, he mused, quietly connecting the loose threads for himself. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising, given all that had happened, that they were so interconnected. If it really was that day. If it was the same Her Aina was talking about. Thyma. The one neither of them saved in the end. He would ask Galo, but later. He wasn’t here, and he didn’t want to interrupt what was happening already.

“Er, well--no. Not really.” Aina tried smiling, but it was crooked and sheepish. Some way to be put on the spot, huh. “I’ll probably never approve of everything you’ve done, but that’s... okay. I don’t think you’re bad people.”

[how-to-survive-a-factory-tour]

How to Survive A Factory Tour - Chapter 10

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fanfiction

PREVIOUS

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The best way I can think to describe this wonderful room is this: Wonka took Sugar Rush from Wreck it Ralph, that bit in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs when it’s snowing ice cream, Sweet Sweet Canyon from Mario Kart, and mixed them all together onto one island. And the result is magnificent.

We’re standing on a dock by the door, and on the other side of a fizzy yellow sea is an island where everything is made from desserts. There’s a mountain which is a large tiered cake, hills that are ice cream scoops, and - if my expert Disney park knowledge serves me correctly - a volcano in the centre that is the volcano dessert from the Rainforest Café.

“Did I die? Because I think I’m in heaven…” Patton mumbles, eyes wide and sparkling.

Wonka hops into a small rowing boat with just enough room for all six of us. The rest of us all join him, and he starts rowing us across the sea to the island.

“Just like before, you are free to roam about yourselves. However, can you head to the east beach after fifteen to twenty minutes? There’s something exciting I want to show you.”

Patton leans over the side of the boat, dipping his finger into the yellow sea. He pulls it out, trying a little. “It’s lemonade!”

“Right you are!” Wonka responds. “The fizziest, tastiest lemonade in the world.”

Almost to punctuate the ‘fizziest’ part, Patton lets out a small burp. “Oops, sorry…”

“It must be rather powerful if Patton burped after such a small amount…” Logan speaks up. “Is it actually safe to consume larger volumes?”

“Of course! Nothing leaves the Inventing Room until it is perfect. The lemonade has been thoroughly tested,” Wonka assures.

I dip my finger to try some lemonade as well. However, as I do, I swear I see a dark shadow in the water…

Eh, it’s probably just the boat creating a shadow.

I sit back up, tasting the lemonade, and letting my own little burp out.

“Wow, Princey, didn’t expect you to be so uncouth,” Virgil smirks.

“Princey? Hm… I like it. Keep calling me that.”

Virgil just rolls his eyes.

“So we can just try anything like last time?” Patton asks, receiving a nod from Wonka in response.

“Nothing’s taboo, like the river in the last room?” Logan inquires.

“Nothing at all. No accidents have occurred in this room ever, and I trust you to be responsible enough to keep it that way.”

The boat pulls up onto the beach of the island. Wonka hops out, and we follow suit, the sand crunching under our feet. Patton seems to have taken the designated role of taste tester, leaning down and picking up a handful of sand, before pouring it in his mouth. “Crushed up graham crackers!”

“Correct again,” Wonka nods. “Now, go ahead, you five, you can go explore.”

Once again, like the Chocolate Room, we all go running ‍off. Patton’s trying a little bit of everything we come across. Virgil does the same, only going a bit slower than Patton. Logan takes a seat by a bush growing ice cream sandwiches, picking one off and eating. I walk around a little longer, before finding a large angel cake. I use a nearby chocolate shard as a knife and cut a slice, before going back to sit by Logan.

“I saw you getting all flustered over Pat on the boat,” I tell him. “You should really just tell him how you feel. By the end of the day, it’ll be too late. You have limited time.”

Logan sighs. “I know… I was going to earlier, but the flume on the boat ride ruined the moment.”

“You could do it on the beach,” I suggest. “Beaches are classic confession/proposal venues in romantic movies. And Patton said this room is his personal heaven, what could be a better time? Perfect romantic mood for you two.”

“I guess you’re right… Okay. I won’t chicken out again. I’m going to take Patton to the beach and confess my feelings. Surely it cannot be that diffi-“

“LO!!!” Patton suddenly runs over, and I think, based off his wide eyes and inability to stay still, bouncing on the balls of his feet, it’s pretty obvious he currently has a very bad sugar high. “You have to come over here, there’s a milk and cookies lagoon and it’s really really really cool!” He grabs Logan’s wrist, and drags him off before the other can say anything.

I chuckle at the two of them. They are two of the worst disaster gays I’ve ever met - they’re perfect for each other.

“I see Patton’s kidnapped Logan…” Virgil’s voice catches my attention as he comes over and sits beside me, eating a flapjack. 

“Yep. Those two are so cute together… I can’t wait to find my soulmate like those two have…”

“Ah, so you’re one of those kinda of people who believe in soulmates?”

“Of course! Don’t you?”

Virgil considers it, before shrugging. “Dunno. Never really had time to think about romance or boyfriends or anything. I’ve been too focused on work and saving money for that. The closest thing I’ve gotten to a love life is judging my friend, Elliot’s choice in men.”

“Boyfriends? I’m sensing a very non-straight theme with us tour members…”

“We don’t know about Ethan,” Virgil points out, but I shake my head.

“My gaydar is very powerful. He’s definitely gay. I mean, he’s wearing a bow tie and suspenders by choice, casually.”

“True… Hey, about Ethan, I think something’s off with him… I saw him whispering into some bushes back in the Chocolate Room. It was kinda weird.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Kinda? Sounds like a bit more than kinda… Or maybe he was just talking to one of the Oompa Loompas? They’re pretty short, maybe you didn’t see them because they were stood behind the bush.”

“Maybe… I dunno, Ethan just kinda creeps me out.”

“Wow, I wonder why. Maybe it’s because half his face is that of a snake!”

Virgil shoves my arm, rolling his eyes, yet smiling. I grin back at him.

“You do that a lot. Come on, you love me really.”

Virgil crosses his arms, huffing, but still smiling. “Piss off…”

I pout, resting my chin on his shoulder. “I’m sowwy, Viwgwil. Pwease forgive me.”

“Jesus, I’m not going to forgive you when you’re doing owo speak!”

“Actually, I was doing uwu speak. Very different.” I pause. “Wait, how do you know what owo speak is? I thought you didn’t have a phone or internet.”

Virgil shrugs. “I’m friends with Remy. One of the things he does on his daily coffee shop runs is teach me current memes and internet trends.”

“Huh. Remy’s pretty cool… He single?”

“Aro.”

“Darn… Oh well. The process of elimination brings me one step closer to finding my soulmate.”

Virgil chuckles. “You are aware there are, like, over seven billion people on earth. Process of elimination isn’t gonna get you very far.”

“Well, actually, half those people are eliminated because they’re female. Another bunch because their too old or young. Another bunch because they’re straight. Another bunch because they’re looking for sexual relationships as well, which I cannot provide. Another bunch because they’re aro. That leaves a small percentage of people who could be my soulmate.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, because it is going to take you forever to find them.” Virgil says, before reaching over and stealing a bit of my angel cake. I glare at him, before leaning over and taking a bite of his flapjack. “Hey!”

“Revenge, bitch!”

Virgil glares at me. I don’t realise he’s picked up a nearby cream pie until he slams it onto my face.

I pull it away and lick my lips. “Oh, it’s on.”

-

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! I LOVE this room!

I’m knelt at the side of a lagoon of milk, dipping cookies in it and munching on them after. They’re so good! Even better than the ones Ma makes, and that’s saying something, because her’s are amazing! 

Anyway, I keep happily eating the food that graced so many of my childhood bedtimes, and I look down to where Logan is sat on the beach, looking at a small stream coming off the lagoon and going off into the lemonade ocean. “You okay, LoLo?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking at this stream. It’s extraordinary… The milk from the lagoon somehow changes to lemonade as it reaches the ocean, avoiding cross-contamination. How does it do that…?”

Awww, he’s so nerdy and curious, it’s adorable! I just wanna go over and hug him tight, and never ever ever let go, and-

Is it possible to get drunk on sugar? Because I think I might be. Just an ickle little tiny bit.

Anyway, more cookies!

“You know, Logi,” I say between bites, “you should really try that lemonade. It’s sooooo good!”

Logan looks down at the sea for a moment. “I am curious as to the effects of having a larger volume.” He scoops up some lemonade, drinking it from his hands. He wipes his mouth after. “Wow, Mr Wonka was not lying about the fizz… I already feel gassy.”

I chuckle. “You look it too. Look at your tummy!”

Logan looks down, seeing is stomach is distended. Oh! I used a smart word! ‘Distended’!

“... Okay, if that amount did that to my stomach, there is no way higher volumes can be safe,” Logan says, patting his stomach. However, doing so causes him to let out a belch, which in turn makes his stomach go down. He blushes, putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh, um, excuse me…”

I, on the other hand, burst into giggles. “Sorry, I know burp jokes and potty humour are childish, but it always makes me laugh…!”

Logan smiles. He pauses, before shuffling over and sitting beside me. “Are the cookies nice?”

I nod. “They’re even better than the lemonade! Here, try!” I pick up a cookie, dunk it in the lagoon, and shove it in Logan’s mouth.

He chuckles, biting down on the cookie. “Hm. They are pretty good.”

“Pretty good? More like the best things ever!”

Logan just shrugs. “I personally think Crofters is much better.”

“Crofters?”

“It’s a Canadian jam brand, and my absolute most favourite food in the universe. It’s so sweet and delicious, yet is completely organic. It’s even better than the jam Wonka makes.”

“Sounds nice! I’ll have to try it out sometime!”

“You should. It’s to die for.”

We sit around a little longer, eating cookies and just talking. I tell him about my job at the bakery, and different recipes I’ve come up with. He tells me about his college and classes. I don’t understand a lot of what he tells me, but I don’t mind. It’s nice to just hear him talk… He gets so passionate when he talks about learning and school…

God, he’s perfect. Maybe I should just kiss him now… Kiss his soft, perfect lips…

“Patton?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I got distracted… What is it, Lo?”

“I, um… I wanted to tell you something…” He takes a deep breath, before reaching over and taking my hand. My own breath catches in my throat. I look back up, and meet his eyes.

“Patton… I know we only met yesterday, but I really really-“

“Excuse me, you two, but it’s been twenty minutes, we need to go meet Mr Wonka on the east beach.”

Logan curses under his breath, before turning and looking up at Ethan, who stands over us. “Thank you for informing us, Ethan. We had better get going.”

Logan stands, pulling his hand from mine. My face falls a little, but I push it aside for now, hopping to my feet and following him and Ethan to the Eastern side of the island.

After a bit of walking, Roman and Virgil join us. Logan raises an eyebrow at their food covered clothes. “What happened to you two?”

“Dessert War,” they respond in unison.

“You mean a food fight?” Ethan asks.

“It was too intense to just be a fight,” Roman replies.

“Who won?”

“Well… technically there wasn’t a winner, we just kinda stopped when Roman got a dark stain on his crop top and screamed that it cost a lot, so we stopped,” Virgil explains. “Which, if you forfeited, actually means I won!”

“Oh, you did not, I landed more hits!”

“Bullshit! That doesn’t determine the winner!”

“Does!”

“Doesn’t!”

“Does!”

“Doesn’t!”

That’s basically the rest of the conversation all the way to the eastern beach.

----------

NEXT

Remember, the ask box is always open!

Taglist: @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @clone-number-1 @pumpkinminette @why-should-i-tell-youu2

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Hustlecup” (with Captain B.Z.!)

Written by: Jake Goldman

Written & Storyboarded by: Kyle Neswald, Jaydeep Hasrajani

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

Hate & basketball.

Before we begin this review, for the first time ever, I have a special guest! Yes, Fly Pow Bye has mostly been about my opinions and mine alone. Please welcome, Captain B.Z.!

Captain B.Z.: Hello, I’m Captain B. Z.! A few of you might know me as the person who archives old Cartoon Network VHS recordings and ads to YouTube but I’m always willing to give shows new and old a chance.

While I initially wasn’t a fan of PPG 2016, I grew to find it an average show around the second season and have found things to like about it, including the Bliss arc and the attempts by the writers to slowly incorporate more action. However, PPG 2016 still isn’t without its problems, as evidenced by today’s episode.

We definitely have a very similar viewpoint; I do admit that the show has gotten better over since those early episodes. This episode, however, might not be the best indicator of that. Let's see if this episode is on fire, or if it should be lit on fire.

The episode starts with electricity flowing through a bunch of tubes...which powers a lightbulb which illuminates the room the Powerpuff Girls and the Professor are in.

Captain B.Z.: Now, I’ll admit that I really like the shot at the start where it shows what’s powering up the mysterious invention - a green light. It’s completely unnecessary and doesn’t apply to anything, but it’s a nice way to start off the episode that doesn’t rely on a Family Guy TV show cutaway gag.

That opened my eyes a little. This mysterious invention is so mysterious, that each Powerpuff Girl repeating that it's so secret. What could it possibly be? How it passes through those circular tubes, and, as mentioned, how it is a green light, could be a hint at what it will be.

Captain B.Z.: Foreshadowing! It’s not just blatantly obvious anymore!

It turns out to be a new hat with a traffic light on it, called the traffic hat. The Powerpuff Girls are disappointed at first, as emphasized by a sad trumpet. Seems to be the running theme with the Professor's inventions. The Professor is ecstatic about it, saying it will be the #1 at the Science-Palooza. Blossom is confused how this hat could possibly win anything, but the Professor tells Blossom that it's not just any hat.

He tells Bubbles to throw this plate of spaghetti at Buttercup. Bubbles immediately does it before the Professor can say "when I say go", which ends up with Buttercup getting a plate full of spaghetti. I'll admit, I actually chuckled at this gag; it's all in the timing.

Captain B.Z.: Plus the fact that it’s freaking "scientific-grade" pasta. The Professor cares more about which type of pasta he gets than his own children.

How fitting. The Professor then pulls out another plate of scientific-grade pasta, and Buttercup tries to get her revenge. The Professor then yells "yellow light", and the pasta starts moving in slow motion, and then a "red light", stopping it in mid-air. Buttercup moves right in front of the pasta to look at this closely, and one can guess what happens next.

Granted, it's not that Buttercup wouldn't deserve what came to her. Despite being a victim of two different spaghetti related incidents thanks to this hat, Buttercup is very excited to use his hat for nefarious purposes. Specifically, she wants to freeze Jennifre's face when she sneezes so she'll look ridiculous. She demonstrates by making this face. Not among of the worst face gags this show has to offer, but it could have been made a little bit better.

That would be a good start.

Captain B.Z.: The face gags have their place and time, in my opinion. Plenty of shows have done really good jokes involving facial expressions, including fellow Cartoon Network series OK KO.

However, in order to make a face gag work, you have to time it just right and not have it be on screen for too long at the risk of being annoying. This is an example of a face gag I didn’t particularly find funny, but I can appreciate that it gets a callback later.

Buttercup has to promise the Professor not to take the hat to school, which she does oblige by...

...but he never said anything about taking it to the park to cause that sweet, sweet mischief! It starts with a little scene with Barry.

Captain B.Z.: Barry’s scene was one of the few redeeming factors of this episode. Partly because it was legitimately funny, and partly because we get to see Barry get injured. Shame it couldn’t have been the Professor in this situation, but we’ll get to that later.

She eventually does what she promised to do to Jennifre by red lighting her as soon as she sneezes. Jennifre was making fun of her hat, so Buttercup's actions are justified. As mentioned before, this does give more of a point to that Buttercup face from before. The other kids start to chant her name for causing all of this torment on people that aren't them, and she catches the attention of one guy who appears to be far older.

It turns out, the Gangreen Gang were hanging out at a nearby basketball court watching all of these time-stopping shenanigans unfold. Sorry to say, all of your headcanons on how Ace left this reboot to hang out with the Gorillaz are now wrong. It was my headcanon, too. They see Buttercup singing the theme song, except she says "I got the power". As much as it's supposed to exemplify Buttercup's selfishness, that's not too inaccurate.

Ace decides to challenge Buttercup to a game of Horse. If one doesn't know how the game works, Ace explains it via a scene that looks like a cross between a diagram and one of those Tiger LCD games from the 90s.

Ace: If I make a shot, you gotta copy it. If you miss the shot, you get a letter. First to spell "horse" is the loser.

Notice how he doesn't explain what happens if Buttercup actually makes the shot. It could be that he's pretty confident, but it's a big hint on how good these "horse" scenes are going to be. They decide to make a wager, if Ace wins, he gets the "doo-hickey" on her head. If Buttercup wins, she gets...

...Ace's prized scooter! What would a 6 year old girl do with a scooter? I don't even think her hands would be able to reach the handlebars! Besides, she saw Ace miss one shot, which either means he's terrible at it, or he's just acting like he's bad at basketball to lure in the mark. Buttercup assumes it's the former.

Captain B.Z.: I’d complain about how Ace has a scooter in this episode and this episode only, but there are far more concerning matters that apply to this episode’s character development, so I won’t.

...damn it, I just did it, didn’t I?

The game begins, and right from Buttercup nervousness from Ace's first shot, one can guess this is not going to end well for her. It should be noted that the very first short this reboot ever had focused on Buttercup not being able to make a "downtown" shot into a wastebasket, so it's interesting to see three seasons later that her skill hasn't changed.

Captain B.Z.: I’m debating whether or not the writers even remembered that short while writing this episode, though. If it was an intentional nod, good for them, although I’m surprised it came this late in the series’ run, when many people had began to ignore the series.

Yes, it's probably a coincidence, but a nice one nonetheless. There's no funny business, Ace manages to perfectly shoot 5 hoops in different ways, some ways so different that they didn't even bother to animate them, and Buttercup's vain attempts to copy them only adding more letters to the LCD game-esque scoreboard. In the end, Ace doesn't get a single letter, and Buttercup gets h...

Mr. Ed impression: You got hooooorse!

GYAH! What is that thing?!

Captain B.Z.: Isn’t it obvious? It’s another uphill roller coaster! It doesn’t lead anywhere and is just there to remind you that this show is a comedy. Even though there’s no punchline to this joke whatsoever.

Wait, this show is a comedy? That horse made me think this was a horror show.

After that...thing, the Gangreen Gang take their scooter home, Ace taking the "doo-hickey" with him. Back at the Powerpuff home, Blossom tells Buttercup that losing the hat was the most irresponsible thing she has ever done!

Well, except for that one time where she joined the Prune-A-Cycling Club. Get it, because pruning would be so hard if you were on a unicycle! Really, this feels like another uphill roller coaster gag, though it is one that only shows up twice. If only other gags got that honor. Also, Blossom and Bubbles joined it too, so it's not like it's just Buttercup's fault.

The Professor barges into the room, so excited about the upcoming Science-Palooza. He can't decide which shade of white lab coat he wants to bring! It's an okay gag based on how his outfit is usually the same, though that might be by comparison. He decides not to question where the hat is, and assumes Buttercup is taking good care of it.

None of the Powerpuff Girls had the heart to tell him the truth, so they decide to confront the Gangreen Gang as a group. They got to "mop up Buttercup's mess", in Blossom's words, said in a way that makes me think even Blossom is getting tired of these kinds of plots.

After a surprising cameo appearance by the pizza guy from the Small World special, the Gangreen Gang gets confronted by the girls. Bubbles said she thought she smelled a rat, because they had a joke about Grubber using a rat as deodorant, and they didn't want to just leave it in the pile.

Like a true hero, Blossom outright threatens him to give back the hat, or he will get hurt. Ace did say he won it fair and square, and those couple of misses to lure Buttercup into a false sense of security were just "a couple of misses". He decides, as the "gentleman" he is, he does another wager on a game of horse. If Blossom wins, she gets the hat. If she loses, Ace gets Blossom's favorite protractor and one of Bubbles' pigtails. The latter was specially requested by Ace, by the way. We will see how, we won't see why. Maybe that's a blessing.

So get this, Blossom is going to use her knowledge of math to enhance her game. Yeah, because Blossom is smart, she has to be, say, the mathlete of the group. It seems to make so much sense, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to believe that Buttercup is the mathlete! Yeah, that's what I'll go with, because anything else would be silly. This would have worked, too, but the Gangreen Gang decide do something even worse than pretending to be bad at basketball.

They decides to outright cheat by moving the basket and blocking the perfectly made shots. At least this time, we actually see five different ways they do that. One oddity is that none of these ways involve the time-stopping hat; in fact, Ace never actually uses it in any of the games. He's far from playing with honor at this point, he might as well use it.

Since there's nothing in the Gangreen Gang's rulebook that states they can't have the other members block the shots, though I highly doubt they even had one in the first place, Blossom is the next one to get...

Mr. Ed impression: Hoooorse!

GYAH! Yeah, repetition is not doing this gag any favors. In fact, I'd argue it's not doing anyone any favors.

Ace grabs the ponytail, twisting it off like a loose nail. They also take Angel-gelica. Yes, the protractor has a name, because Blossom is the nerd character that loves math. This doesn't nearly impact Blossom's looks, but is treated as just as important to her. They could have taken her bow, her hairclip, or even her ponytail. It seems to fit Ace's odd obsession with stealing other people's hair in this episode.

The Powerpuff Girls now decide that violence is the answer, threatening to crush their bones with half of a basketball court. Kind of an overreaction, I'd say, but one thing I can appreciate is that this is the only time they get to use any kind of superpower besides flight in this episode. It is sad that we need these reminders.

Ace decides then and here that the hat would come in handy, and says "red light". This makes the Powerpuff Girls and the basketball court float perfectly still in mid-air. They probably didn't even need the hat, that seems to be their usual strategy anyway.

This leads to a psychedelic slideshow beatdown, with the red-lighted Puffs getting licked both figuratively and literally. It's here that we learn what exactly what the hat brings to the plot: the ability to make a scene where superpowered girls getting beaten up by regular thugs more believable. Well, that, and a way for Buttercup to do something wrong, get in trouble, and learn a lesson that she would probably forget by the next episode anyway

Once Ace says "green light" on the court, Buttercup suffers something worse than losing at a basketball game...

...getting scolded by her father figure for the second most irresponsible thing she has ever done. A good hint on how good that pruning gag is: they don't even give it a proper background for the second time.

He decides to help the girls out, and go to the "basketball fields". Oh, silly Professor, that's not what basketball courts are called! Man, this guy must not know sports at all! However, he's sure that he can just talk to the Gangreen Gang like civilized adults, and they'll happily just hand over the hair, the protractor, and maybe even that time-stopping hat!

At the basketball court, somehow completely undamaged from the Powerpuff Girls' post-loss and somewhat-justified temper tantrum, we see that, needless to say, that civilized adults strategy did not work. As the gang is laughing at this dork, Ace offers another game of horse. Ace really needs another pigtail. Again, we see how, won't see why, maybe it's a blessing.

The Professor doesn't take it at first, because, in his words:

Professor: I'm not about to bet on a game I've never played before!

Lil' Arturo calls him a chicken like a 90's bully, and that's enough for him to change his mind. How hard could it be, you just put the ball in the hoop thingy, and he makes a practice shot by just launching the ball straight into the air. I am summarizing this because I want to point out that he is really trying to show off that he is just not good at sports. However, he's going to do it anyway.

The conclusion was so obvious, the episode just presses the fast forward button. We instantly see the Professor getting each letter. We don't even know if the Gangreen Gang decided to cheat here, it's just H, O, R, S, E, with the Professor's face zooming in with each one. In just a few seconds, the Professor gets...

Mr. Ed impression: Hoooorse!

Yeah, yeah, we get it, you stock image abomination. By the third time, I'm just rolling my eyes in disgust.

Bubbles loses her last pigtail, and all hope seems to be lost. Left with nothing else to wager, the Professor challenges him again, this time putting their residence on the line for everything Ace has taken, plus his scooter. The Powerpuff Girls object, but the Professor is so assuring by saying they always wanted to travel. I mean, what's the worst that can happen if the Powerpuff Girls leave Townsville?

Dispaired Citizens: Why'd you leave us, Powerpuff Girls?

Oh yeah, that. Okay, that was the original, but I'd imagine something very similar would happen here, too. But Townsville can go to heck for all he cares, he wants that hat back, no matter what the risk is!

The Professor looks at the basket, sweating profusely. How are they possibly going to beat Ace at his own game? He makes a desperate attempt to copy Ace's shot...

...and he makes the shot perfectly. He then tears off his shirt, revealing his hairy, hairy abs, and says that he's still got it. Wait, what? This comes completely out of nowhere; one minute, he's incompetent at sports, and then, snap, he's good at basketball now. But hey...he has a pi symbol on his shirt! That's nerdy!

"When did the Professor suddenly get good?" isn't even the only question I have about this scene. If the Professor was really trying to "hustle" these green gangsters by pretending he was bad at sports, why did he let them win the first time? Also, no matter suddenly how skilled the Professor is now, wouldn't the Gangreen Gang just cheat some more?

They at least explained that last one. The Powerpuff Girls decided not to just sit back and let the other members cheat, and tied them up with ordinary rope while Ace was too busy focusing on the Professor's sick moves. They could have did this when Blossom was getting horsed, but then the episode would have ended too early.

With the other members tied up, the Professor's unexplained sudden skill increase, and Ace never realizing he could just use his hat, Ace finally gets...

...

...gets...

...

...so now the reboot decides not to do the "horse" joke? Honestly, this ending is bad enough already, you might as well go for the Full Monty and give us that forsaken furlong-runner! Maybe that horse got disqualified.

Blossom gets her beloved ruler back, Bubbles gets her pigtails back, Buttercup gets grounded again, and the Professor now has a sweet scooter for him to take to the Science-Palooza. We never quite find out if his invention is a winner as the episode suddenly ends here...but this ending sure isn't one.

Captain B.Z.: So let’s talk about why this ending doesn’t work.

The Professor has had literally no experience at playing basketball in his life, neither in the original or this series. His initial plan is to talk to the Gangreen Gang sensibly but he does even worse than the girls. Then, he becomes ridiculously good out of freaking nowhere, throwing in another muscle “joke” for extra measure.

There is no buildup to this ending whatsoever due to the Professor being such a forgettable character in this episode. It's to the point where if the girls hadn’t told him that his hat was stolen, he wouldn’t have even cared.

Does the title fit?

It wasn't Buttercup doing the hustling. I honestly argue hustling was kind of forgotten halfway through!

How does it stack up?

It's such a shame that a major appearance from the Gangreen Gang that doesn't involve them just dressing in drag for a talent show is in such a lousy episode.

Captain B.Z.: Hustlecup is an episode that suffers in many different ways, from a story that isn’t well-defined to plenty of out-of-character moments - more than average for the reboot. While I don’t mind these errors if they’re just a small part of the episode, here, they get in the way of any merit the episode might have had and make it a truly frustrating watch.

Indeed. There are other variations of H-O-R-S-E with less letters, but even if this episode was playing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, it would still lose.

Captain B.Z.: As I mentioned earlier in the review, this episode did provide some interesting concepts. The idea of a traffic light hat that actually slows down time is pretty neat but the writers did nothing with it. I’m surprised we didn’t get another episode like “Lights Out!” where we get to see Bubbles figure out how the hat works when the Gangreen Gang steals it and messes with Townsville traffic. Sadly though, the Professor being an asshole and Mr. Ed jokes had higher priority to the writers, making this episode fall apart instantly.

Next, another episode focusing on everyone's favorite Sitcom Dad, if we discount all the other Sitcom Dads. Special thanks to Captain B.Z. for joining me with this one.

← Cat Burglar ☆ Rebel Rebel →

[livelovelaug-h]

Irreplaceable you pt 2

Sam x reader

Warnings- cancer: sad times. Angst. :(( Grab the tissues still.

"So I decided to cut out gluten. That was like the first thing that I did. I would just like wake up in the morning and feel like totally fatigued. Just like, "eh."

You laugh. This could be good. Next girl.

"You know, um his job he doesn't really like talking about it." She laughs. ?

Next girl. "You know what's funny I have a cat named Sam."

"oh okay."

"yeah." Nope. "Thank you."

You're writing down on some papers a few notes notes: too slutty. Too needy. Too freaky. Too neurotic.

Next girl.

"So it says on your online profile you were Phi Beta Kappa?" You ask.

"I had no life in college." You laugh.

"And now you're a researcher for the National Institute of Health?"

"Yes. Still have no life. I'm just... I'm just tired of being alone. I'm where I want to be career-wise, and I really would like to settle down and have a family."

She adds: "sorry, Natural caretaker. Also overbearing neurotic."

"I'm the same way." You say. "Um... Let's set up a date."

"Okay. Um, just... If I could just be honest with you, um, I just don't quite understand why a man would send his assistant to pre-interview women. I just... I don't get it. "

"Yeah, um... Here's the deal." She could tell by your face.

"Sally! Please don't hold it against him!" She starts walking away.

"This is the craziest thing like ever!"

You started picking up the papers to go catch the girl but you ran into in the waitress. "Oh, shit. Oh, sorry! I'm sorry! "

"No, I got it."

"It's kind of a long story."

"I... I think I heard it. I mean, I know I shouldn't, but spying on the customers is like the only thing that makes this job halfway bearable. You are way more interesting than most. "

"I know, it's unusual." You say.

"Yo, dude, I think it's awesome. Like, my mom died seven years ago. I was in high school. And after she passed, my dad spent every night alone. And I tried to tell him, "Go out. Live life. Find someone." But not just anyone. The right person. "

"Exactly. Which is hard."

She laughs "Right. imean, do you have any like friends or anything that could like take him off your hands?"

"Yeah his brother but not anyone that would get this girl stuff."

"Right. I mean, the thing is, finding the right one is actually about volume. You should host a mixer, like, invite some people."

"Yeah, right. Nothing says "fun" like a mixer hosted by your dying girlfriend."

"I mean, I'm having an art opening... at this gallery space on Friday. you could use it as a front.You, like, wouldn't even need to be there. And... And an art opening could bring together some really interesting women. Like the right types. Not that there wouldn't be some people there with like interested in the free snacks, but... "

"I wouldn't want to..."

"No, honestly, dude, you'd be doing me a real solid."

you laugh. I'm y/n.

"I'm Mira."

~~~~~~~~~

"A hundred and fifty dollars? This place is a rip-off. I could make this myself one week tops." Myron says.

"Focus, please. We just need to freshen up Sam's look a little."

"Why is that again?"

" Trust me. Any woman that meets him

is gonna want to shop for him. The wrong one will put him in these. He wears all plaid all the time"

"What are you doing?" You ask myron.

"What?"

"You're the only one who gets to make bad decisions because you're dying? Terminal cancer. Put it on my bill. "

"You're just so cool with everything. I'm not cool with any of this.

"I've been dying longer than you have. You get better at it. "

"How?"

"Well, it's like this vest. At first it's, "Why is that old man wearing that horrible vest? Pretty soon I become the vest guy. After that, you realize that you'd hardly recognize me without it. I look comfortable in it. It's a part of me, so... you accept it. "

"I don't think I can ever accept you in that vest."

"No?" He asks.

"Try this on. I want to see what it'll look like on Sam."

"Okay."

"But let me pair it with some skinny jeans."

Laughs.

"Okay. I look three days younger. "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"These... Oh! They're cutting off my circulation. Seriously, my ankles are tingling, my feet are asleep."

"You look hot!"

"It's just... Can I ask what this is about?"

"Just some retail therapy. "

"Right. And where am I supposed to put my phone?"

"Now... Okay, this jacket is dry clean only. Which means, if I'm not around, do not put this in the laundry."

"I know what that means y/n."

"Oh. Shit. Laundry. All right, so... In here." You walk to the washer and he asks:

"Really?"

" Okay, so... "

" I know how to turn it on."

"Yeah, but colors, whites, delicates."

".. Right."

"The dryer sometimes gets stuck, so, uh, you just give it two kicks. you kick it twice Right here. Like that. And it will generally unstick itself."

Sam kicks it twice.

"Exactly."

"Uh, this dial is the minutes. It tells you how much time you have left.......... um, If the time runs out..... before the clothes are ready, you just... turn the dial."

"Hmm. Wait." You say feeling uneasy.

" What?"

[groaning] "are you okay?"

You start coughing and head towards the sink. You start throwing up.

"yeah I have that effect on women." You both laugh. "Too soon...?"

You say "yeah too soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her and her nightly what ifs. It was adorable though.

"What if I had run away and joined a cult?"

"I guess I would have to join too."

"What if relationships between cult members was frowned upon?"

"Like an asexual cult?"

"Yeah. And you couldn't do an intervention and get me out because I was totally brainwashed."

"Hmm. Well, I guess I would have to become a rival cult leader, re-brainwash you. according to my philosophy, and then steal you away into my cult, which would be a sex cult."

You start dying with laughter.

"What if I were exactly like me, except I had really terrible halitosis. I would get you a mint. Or I would destroy the olfactory receptors in my nose so that I didn't care."

....."What if I die?

"I would...

never recover." You guys cuddle and go to bed.

~~~~~ the next evening~~~~~~

You Sam and Dean are all In the same room.

"Should I be able to tell that you're circumcised in those jeans? 'Cause I can. And there's not a lot of, uh, room for imagination or your penis in those pants." You says.

"I don't want to go to this. I don't... I don't know anything about art."

You: "Yes you do. Would you relax? She just wants people there."

"Is she hot?" Dean asks.

"Trust me, Dean it will be a target rich environment." Sam answers.

"See? Come on, man. Free food, cute girls." Dean says.

~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, let's do this. " you say.

"How exactly do you know this artist again?"

"We met randomly at a cafe, and we really bonded and...

" When?"

' I... I don't know. I just... I don't want to disappoint her.

"Are you sure you can't come?" He asks you.

I- I don't feel up to it. Trust me.

"Okay. W... Well I'll go, just as long as you stop touching my hair.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey. "

'You're adorable." You say and he huffs a laugh. "Stop that!"

"Oh, he can move in them!"

"No, not really Dean."

Sam to Dean "you know i got a ring right before she told me she was 'pregnant and then now cancer."

"I didn't. You know you could still ask her."

"yeah she'll love that." he says sarcastically.

"it might give her some hope."

"yeah, maybe."

~~~~~~~In The car with myron outside the art meeting ~~~~~~~~~~

"Is he mingling?"

"He's admiring the art."

"Sam doesn't care much about art. Nah, he's just hoping if he keeps himself occupied with an activity, no one will actually talk to him."

[Myron] He's very good-looking.

Can I say that and not be awkward?

"Uh, yeah that's my whole point. What about you and your wife? How'd you two meet?"

"At a party."

"We were in college. We got hitched three years later. "

"That's it? No story?"

"The story came after. Getting married. Life. Building a home. Kids, grandkids."

"Sorry".

"It's okay. I won't know the difference, I guess."

"I just want those things for Sam."

"I have to hand it to you." Myron says.

"What?

"You are stubborn. This might be the worst plan in the world, but you're committed to it, and I like that."

"Yeah, well, don't be too impressed. Hasn't worked yet."

"I don't know about that." He says looking into the binoculars.

"What?" You look into the building.

"Let me see that." Sam is talking to Someone. "No, that's just the girl whose show it is."

[Myron] "So?"

"So she's just doing this as a favor to me. "

"So?"

"So, she's not his type."

"Yeah?"

You: "Oh, no. Don't do the snorty laugh.

"Ugh! He did the snorty laugh. Oh, he does that when he's... "

Myron : "When he's nervous."

"Happy."

"Here. Estelle's hot chocolate." Myron says ans hands you a coffee cup. "It cures whatever ails you. Except cancer."

He cheers "to the things we do for people we love."

~~~~~~~ bedtime ~~~~~

Sam walks in your shared bedroom. "I know you're not really sleeping. Because I know how your breathing sounds when you sleep. Which is something you don't even know about yourself."

laughs

"I know everything about you, y/n, But I have to say, you still know how to shock the hell out of me."

"What do you mean?"

"The clothes. The mixer. "

" Sam... "

"For the record, I am not a dummy. I know what's going on. And I went along with you trying to help me because I know it's helping you. But setting me up? Are you serious?"

"Please. You spend your life fighting monsters and researching all the time. Also always Looking after people."

"Sam, most people don't find what we had... have once, much less twice in a lifetime."

"What we have? You mean, a relationship where one person is... is lying, and sneaking around, and manipulating?*

" It's for your own good!"

"You just tried to manipulate my life! Or you mean a relationship where you have such a low opinion of me, that you truly believe that nobody else on the planet would ever fall for me."

"Obviously not. But that's the whole point!" You're gonna get swarmed, and it's gonna be impossible to find the right person!"

"I already found the right person! Or I thought I had." You

"Y/n/n's, I didn't... You know I didn't mean that. Hey, come here. are you okay?" He hugs you in the bed.

~~~~~~~~~ Sam and Dean sitting in the kitchen~~~~~~~

Sam: "What is she thinking? Does she think I'm completely clueless with women?"

"Dean?"

"No."

"Yeah? No.

" Wait, what?"

"you've just never seen me in action."

"Hm no, no and I never want to."

"What do I do?"

"Look, all you can do is be there for her, however you can. i mean, look, she's got to be scared out of her mind. And right now she needs to know that the worst thing happens.... That you are gonna be okay."

You and Myron go out bird watching. He speaks up : Are you ready to drop this mishigas with Sam?"

"You think I should?"

"Here's what I know: You don't have as much time as you think you do.*

" I don't?"

"No."

"What are you trying to say?" You ask heart racing.

"I'm not saying it, the Buddha did."

"I didn't realize you were Buddhist."

"I'm not, but it stuck with me. And it's true for you. It's true for every person on the planet."

[Myron] I need some snacks. Could you...

Oh. I can't believe you eat those things." You say handing him a bag of cheese curls.

"They're tasty."

"The chemo has clearly destroyed your taste buds."

"Try one".

"They're disgusting."

"Keep going. You get to tasty."

[crunches]. "The second bite is actually not as bad."

Myron: Good for you, too.

~~~~~ later at night~~~~

"Okay. Someone... who hikes." Sam says randomly.

"What?"

In the future, if I ever did this again, which I probably won't, but if I did, and if it makes you feel better to know, it would be with someone who hikes."

" We never hike."

'Because you hate it."

"That's not true."

"We took that one hike up Bear Mountain Six years ago, you complained the entire time."

"That's because hiking is boring. It's basically walking. And walking is something you do to get somewhere. Hiking from your car up a hill and then back to your car is totally pointless."

"Okay". he laughs.

"Duly noted." You say. "Hiking.

"Thank you."

"What else?"

" I like dancing." You scoff.

"I would like to try ballroom dancing classes. You know, like the fox-trot or the waltz, even though... "

"It's lame."

" I know you think it's lame."

''The fox-trot? Seriously?''

" Yeah!"

"How about something just moderately nerdy like swing."

"Is this person for you or for me?

"Okay.".

" Good. I get it. I'll update your profile.

"What profile?"

"This profile."

"God."

"You're welcome".

Next morning on a walk--

"So you've been pretending to be me?"

"you're sick you know that?"

"so?"

"okay so how do you like this profile picture?"

"you took a picture of me sleeping??"

"hey come on I've worked really hard on this. No? You don't okay fine. Want to take another one?"

"yeah let's take another one."

"Okay" he sits down on the bench and smiles. You press the button and bammm.

"what do you think of that?."

"oh it's good!"

"uh huh."

"do it in black and white."

Sam: "are you coming to bed?"

(glass shatters) "oh."

"y/n??" He walks in the room. "Y/n what is it?"

"It's broken."

" Oh, shit."

" It's broken."

"It's okay. We can just... We can get another one. It's fine."

'No, we can't! You gave it to me when we were kids.." you cry but he picks you up and takes you to bed. He holds you all night and lets you cry. He knows this can't be easy.

To be continued

[islandpcosjourney]

Day 25 - Spring ‘21 challenge

8th April 2021

“It’s never too early or too late to work towards being the healthiest you”

Today’s juices are: Anti-oxidant King Pineapple, Apple, Spinach, Beetroot blended with Mixed berries & Banana Chlorophyll cleanser Apple, Pear, Cucumber, Lime, Celery, Spinach, Broccoli stem & Kale

Many who know me will either know the bubbly, fun-loving, energetic, passionate, can’t-stop-talking Màiri from school/college days or you may know the slightly older version of me in my teaching career, where I’m a random mix of quiet, shy, moody, polite, annoying, frustrated, crazy, chatty, chronic-fatigued, lacking confidence, over-compensating, mask-wearing (not the covid masks, but the “masking how I feel” mask) kind of Màiri.

Today I was the energetic kind of Màiri – fast talking, fast moving, fast thinking, fast drinking – everything fast! But not just today I suppose, for most of the last 3 weeks this is how I’ve been. I have had days where I’m naturally tired in the evenings but more recently I’ve been struggling to wind down before bedtime, sometimes not getting to sleep before midnight. I still wake up between 6-7am and once the cold air hits me when I let the dog outside and especially when I have my ginger shot, I am able to function and stay at that same level throughout the day. Last weekend I didn’t HAVE to get up early but I did, with every intention of getting my cup of spearmint tea and returning to bed to have a chilled morning – but once I was up, I was up! There used to be a time when I couldn’t function without 8hrs sleep, and really ladies with PCOS are advised to get as much sleep as possible, but I have too much energy to be going to bed earlier, or maybe I should just try it and see 🤷🏻‍♀️

It definitely seems like all hints of my PCOS symptoms are heading into the past now. I know I’m not completely healed yet. I still haven’t had a 3rd cycle, but my facial hair is SUPER slowing down now, the weight is falling off, the chronic fatigue is gone, the tinnitus has disappeared, headaches non-existent, my skin is soooooo soft and smooth, cellulite becoming eradicated, far less backaches but most of all my stress/anxiety levels are non-existent. The worst part of PCOS is what you can’t see – the mental health. Depression and anxiety were major symptoms of my PCOS life where small things would become big things and I’d worry about the tiniest of problems, thinking they were the worst experiences ever. I can honestly say that throughout this challenge I have never once felt foggy or ‘down’. No sign of the black dog around (except our own black beauty Holly of course!). Years ago, the doctors made me feel like having a bout of depression & anxiety was related to my work or life choices I’d made, simply giving me pills to help (which of course they didn’t) and give me no clues as to how to help myself to improve my moods, leaving it up to them to “control”. Fortunately, around 6 months after that was when I moved back north and swapped my hectic lifestyle for the quiet, simple Hebridean life, yet I still had bad days or weeks with no clue WHY. I had moved my body away from any “bad” sources according to my GP, of being exhausted physically and mentally, but still, I hadn’t essentially moved away from the problem itself, so it was still there loitering in the background. Treating the symptom, not the cause. It was masked, like a plaster. So I let go of those meds. Best decision.

I found out through research and experience that physical stress and mental stress were interlinked, whether that relates to everyone, I don’t know, but certainly those who have PCOS. Physical stress on our bodies i.e. cardio exercise/rushing around, actually exacerbates our hormones, triggering mental & gastro health issues. Here, living a quieter life, I was of course not rushing around as much. I had much more time for myself and did things at my own pace. But I was noticing that when I was busiest, I was also more prone to mood swings and craving foods that pushed me to fall into negative cycles. Coincidence? I think not.

I CAN rush around now without any side effects. WHY? Because I have gotten my nutrition right ✔️ I am healing myself; my gut, my skin, my mental health, all my cells, my nails, my hair (well, to a certain extent – shiny hair doesn’t give me hair re-growth, but one can think optimistically anyway), my teeth, my toes (well that’s maybe another subject!), my ovaries? By consuming the right nutrition, I am allowing my body to work in its natural rhythm. We are the most wonderful creation where each tiny cell in our bodies has a purpose and the power to heal. Just like you would give your car a service each year, I am giving myself a service – an oil change, some new gaskets etc. If we become clogged up, foggy, headaches, back ache, get run-down with colds, even simple tiredness – it’s a sign that we need to do something to rectify it.

I love Jason Vale’s analogy here where he uses a fishbowl as the example. Imagine a fish in a bowl, swimming around quite happy in clean water. Now imagine pouring coca cola, coffee, chocolate, takeaway food & medications into the bowl – what colour is the water now? Now the fish gets sick, it starts to choke essentially on everything that’s clogging up the water. It gets tired, gets acne, a sore limb, doesn’t recover as quickly from an illness etc. So what do you do? Feed it more pills? No, you’d change the water. Seems logical right? Common sense even? But our first thought in life as a response to something bad happening to our body is……….. what can we TAKE (not remove) to relieve our pain? 🤦🏻‍♀️ Now, for something acute, like emergency treatment for a broken arm or as a result of a car crash needing emergency surgery etc of course I’m not talking about those instances! I’m talking about the chronic issues, the ones we suffer every day, every week, the unexplained symptoms, even the explained symptoms. We get sick, get diagnosed, are given pills and sent away with a leaflet – sometimes no check-up, just get on with it. We accept it? I did, and many others would too. Instead, question everything. Why is this happening? Why am I feeling this? Can I do something to prevent it? Do I know what’s CAUSING this?

The best thing I ever did was question and constantly look for answers. I did not simply accept the “advice” that the consultants or GPs were giving me. I may have been looking for years and years and falling off the wagon more often than not but what I’ve gained is invaluable insight and experience into MY own condition, MY own life, afterall we are ALL UNIQUE, and I have never been more convinced that I can beat this and CURE my PCOS.

“It’s never too early or too late to work towards being the healthiest you”

[blogkelleyb]

Cancer treatment in the time of Covid

So I have finished my second Chemo treatment 3 days ago? Why not blog after the first? Well cause I was a potato thats why. That is my new term for the overwhelming exhaustion that comes with my friend Chemotherapy. It is interesting but nothing I have experienced before.  I lie, 10 years ago I was super ill and left Kingston Hospital 88 lbs. I know weak and it is a scary feeling and yeah I called them.  I found out it is completely normal, give in to it. Ok will do don't have a choice because I don’t have the energy to do more than make myself a cup of tea. My daughter is doing the rest and doing it well. I can relax and just be a potato if I feel like one.  So I was for about 3 days. 

Around the same time my mouth started to get sore. First kind of coated then raw feeling and really chapped lips.  My daughter went to pharmacy and got some special spray that is all natural and helped with the dry sore mouth quite well. She also got special mouthwash made for the same issue. It helped and it passed in about 4 days. 

But that wasn’t the first side-effect. I had very mild “hand-foot syndrome” Google it because it is fascinating, and can at its worst be horrendous.  It is extreme skin sensitivity to cold. First discovered when I got home from first Chemo and reached into the fridge for a pepsi.  Zap, every finger touching the can starts to tingle intensely. You know that feeling when a limb or hand goes to sleep and I mean dead asleep no feeling and then it starts to wake and you hit a max on the tingly feeling? Yeah it feels like that. Not painful, disturbing definitely uncomfortable. Then I took a drink of the pepsi...OMFG my mouth and throat are tingling like crazy. The answer? Warmth. A tea, no cold drinks and don’t touch anything with your hands that is colder than body temp. Warm that water up before you wash your hands. Etc.  It lasted a day and gradually improved. 

The third and least noticeable side-effect is actually not due to the Chemotherapy but the high dose steroids that they give you before and during to help combat them.  Steroids give you a false sense of wellness and I get very chatty to say the least. So yes I noticed this and the fact I felt pretty damn good the first 3 days after.  But I know having been on steroids many times for my Colitis the fall going off them is kind of harsh so this probably adds to the chemo exhaustion that hits on day 4 and your done your 3 day steroid regime. 

So lets look at the positives of this treatment shall we? I didn’t barf, not even once. Nor did I even get nauseated.  I was terrified of this side-effect. I mean worse than hair loss by far.  Like I said I know what it feels like to be 88 lbs when my good weight is 135.  I weighed 137 when diagnosed, my weight at my first chemo was 112. I have lost 25 lbs already and the treatment hadn’t even started yet.  What was I going to look like going into surgery, will it affect the outcome, will I be healthy enough to get it at all or will it have to be delayed risking my life?  Yeah it was a great big fat hairy deal. And I didn’t get sick. Can I have a “Hell yeah” 

The second side effect is just as exciting folks, I found my lost appetite and oh boy is it back with a vengeance. I fell like I did 10 years ago like I have an insatiable tape worm.  It started to come back around day 5 post 1st chemo. And each day became stronger and stronger.  I was eating bowls of ice cream at midnight and making bacon and eggs at 5AM.  I even appealed to my friends who brought “Mac and Cheese” and “Oven pot pies” And I ate them all and at my weigh in before starting chemo I saw the beautful number 118.6 lbs.  Omg the joy I felt I can’t tell you. The relief....1000 lbs literally off my shoulder. I am so holding on to the hope that it stays around. I expect during my potato days, it won’t be as good. But I will remain hopeful that the tapeworm stays awake and keeps eating. 

But then I got my second treatment 3 days ago.  It was different. The nausea? Nope its fine none of that at all. Appetite seems normal not bad but not ravenous.  The hand/mouth, wow. It began as I arrived home from my treatment. My hands and feet and lower legs were tingling like crazy and I was touching nothing and fully dressed and had a coat on.  The cold air, It was like minus 2 or something out.  Wow what if it was in the middle of winter how would this feel?  I come inside and its pretty intense. My daughter gets me a cup of hot tea and heats up my hot pack to put my hands in like I did first round. It helps. I put on my legs it helps them too. 

I have a chemo bottle attached to my PICC line that goes into the large vein in my upper body into the upper vessel of the heart. Regular arm veins used for IV’s  can't take chemo drugs, That chemo bottle is to drain over a period of 24 hours. I carry it around for those 24 hrs in a little bottle bag around my neck and navigate the tubing.  Then the next day I get into the car and drive to Para-Med and they remove the chemo bottle, dispose into the toxic waste container and redo my dressing on my PICC line. I go home. Except two hours later I note the bottle of Chemo is not draining.  I call, and they tell me I have to go back to hospital so they can fix. I did, it sucked, I tingled the whole way but did get to ask that nurse about it too. Yes it’s normal but yes we watch it some have a problem.  Am I going to have a problem? I hope not she says. Yeah me too.   

We drive home. I decide in case this gets worse I should take my shower while I am stable on my feet. I do so and it was  glorious hot water. No tingling, until I stepped out. OMFG again. Bare feet on the floor, naked and shivering. Ok now its painful. This bloody sucks.  Get dressed in flannel onesie right away. Get big winter socks on and get that hot pack. Ok I am good.  How bad will this get?  Is this something that could interfere with my ability to get regular prompt continued treatment so I can have surgery and be cancer free.  Is this threatened?  I have two more treatments and will have a long break in-between these treatments my surgery and my recovery and restarting again. It should get out of my system.  But the effects are cumulative, how bad will it get? Can they give more steroids to counter act this effect and keep it controllable. You can bet I will be asking all those questions to my Oncologist when I see him before my next treatment. My daughter is going with me and will make sure I miss nothing with my hearing and that I get all my questions answered.  Thats a very good thing to do together.  And good news, the tingling is improving this morning. Whew!

I don’t know what the exhaustion will be like this time.  I was what I called “baked” yesterday.  Like you took that extra THC gummy at bedtime (oh chill its legal and I only take them for sleep) except they are always worn off by morning with zero hangover effect. Baked with a really clear logical mind and a mouth that just will not stop talking. Like there was no filter, if something ran though my head it came out my mouth.  My daughter from previous experience with me realized it was the steroids!  And then we laughed and laughed and laughed until our bellies hurt.  The poor girl finally was able to retreat to the privacy of her room and I would still come down the hall to tell her more pearls of wisdom from my mind.  I carried on a running commentary with my best friend over messenger from the early morning hours before the sun came up all the way to bedtime and yes she too finally just stopped answering me. I think its hysterical. But I get that it may be a tad annoying to others. So I went into my favourite facebook group for women over 40 that play the video game “Animal Crossing” Oh don’t judge that either, hottest selling game of the year last year, absolute record sales and got many of us through this damned pandemic. Just minding our islands and building homes and fishing etc.  So peaceful, so non political and so damn cute.   So yeah headed to that group and made two new online friends and yep they probably won't message again but they were kind to me. This side effect will pass today as the steroids wear off and the exhaustion kicks in.  I suspect it may be little worse and last a little longer than last time. If you don’t see a new blog post till next treatment, thats why. See ya when I am no longer a potato. 

[ilosttrackofthings]

Sentence prompt: “I can’t wait to hug you.” for biospecialist please

Grant’s on hisside, his medical bed pushed all the way up against the glass wall.The cords leading to the machines monitoring his progress arestretched to their limits but he doesn’t care. On the other side ofthe glass is another bed, mirroring his, and in it are the two mostimportant people in his world.

“Hey, it’sokay,” Grant says, pressing his hand to the glass where littleRosie’s pounding against it. She’s been fine up to now, but she’ssuddenly become frustrated with the distance between them.

“It’s allright, dove,” Jemma says. She brings Rosie back to her chest,pressing the words just above her ear in a kiss. “Daddy will be outsoon. He’ll hold you then, all right?”

“Promise,”Grant says. It doesn’t stop Rosie’s eyes welling with tears orher pitiful cries. She wants him, wants Grant. Somehow it both warmshis heart and hollows it out.

There’s not adamn thing he can do for his baby girl right now except watch Jemmagather her to her and wipe away her tears. He’s stuck, trapped onthis side of the quarantine while Jemma runs every conceivable test.He was exposed to something down in that city—him and Skye andRaina—and while he and Skye are fine, Raina’s shown some prettybig side effects.

So he doesn’tblame Jemma or Coulson for ordering him in here until they can figureout exactly what happened and, if it were his call, he’d probablyhave made the same one. He’s really glad it isn’t his callthough, especially when Rosie’s glistening eyes settle on himagain.

It was alreadybedtime, that’s why they’re here at all, and she’s tuckeredherself out with her crying. Her head looks heavy on Jemma’sshoulder and her eyes have taken on that glassy quality. She’ll beout in a few minutes. After that Jemmawill take her back to their room, lay her down for the night. There’sno telling if Jemma will go to sleep herself after that—she’spulling double duty taking care of the baby on her own and headingthe team looking into Grant and Skye’s exposure to the obelisk—butGrant’s guessing probably not. If he were out there instead of inhere, he could coax her into bed, talk her in circles whileundressing her until all the logic in the world couldn’t stand upto the tempting comfort of sleep when she’s already in her PJs.

But Grant isn’tout there, he’s in here, one measly eighth of an inch of glasskeeping him from his family when they need him.

“You know,”Jemma says in that tone she uses when she’s determined to look onthe bright side of things, “Rosie’s not the only one.”

He looks to theirpeacefully sleeping daughter, confused.

“Who misses you,”Jemma says, a ghost of a laugh in her voice. “I can’t wait for myhug either, so don’t think you’ll be able to spend all youraffection on Rose just because she’s- What? What’s wrong?” Herexpression falls and Grant hates himself for that, for letting whathe’s thinking show enough that she can see.

There was a timeshe wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have wanted his touch or hispresence. But she wanted his kid. Four months pregnant when theuprising hit, she wasn’t about to let Hydra take anything else fromher and she didn’t care what he or anyone thought about it.

“Grant, tell me.”She touches the glass, just her fingertips, but Grant readily reaches out, same as he did for Rosie.

He doesn’tdeserve her. People like to tell him that around here, but nothing’sproven it so well as this. He’s literally living out one of Jemma’s worst fears and she’s still standing beside him, bringing Rosie tovisit and giving him moral support.

He takes a deepbreath, pushes past the carefully honed instincts and second-natureto do the one thing he’s tried to make a habit of these lastmonths: he tells her the truth. “This is my fault.”

“No,” she saysimmediately. “No, this is Whitehall and Skye’s father and Raina.You were only trying to protect Skye.”

She’swrong. She’s so completely wrong. But the truth still feels awkwardand heavy on his tongue and he doesn’t know how to explain. Shethinks he’s some kind of hero for stopping Trip and rushing intothat room himself. He can’t tell her that it was guilt that madehim so reckless.

Therewas a desperation in him after John’s death, a need to provehimself that seemed to vibrate in his bones. He needed her to knowhe’d changed, to believe that his choice of her over John wasn’tpure selfishness. It was. Of course it was. But she’d never look athim again if she knew.

Sohe threw himself into the job, doing anything and everything to showher and everyone that his loyalty was with SHIELD. Even now, whenshe’ll lovingly smile at their daughter in his arms, when she’llshare his bed and long for his touch, he still doesn’t know howmuch of what he does in the field is really him and how much is fearof losing her if he’s anything less than the man she deserves.

She’sshifted back onto her side, Rosie between her and the glass so he cankeep an eye on her. “Not everything is your fault, Grant,” shesays softly. “Tomorrow the results will be back and you’ll see.Everything will be fine.” She adjusts the cap over Rosie’sforehead and then reaches out again.

Grantsettles down in his own bed and touches the glass. He keeps his eyesopen for as long as he can, watching his girls sleep peacefully justout of reach.