#but it’s like with amy’s parents post big bang — it feels like it should be a BIG moment that affects her for the rest of the series but its

[theteaisaddictive]

WHERE THE FUCK IS CLARA’S HOT DAD

HOW DARE YOU STAND WHERE HE STOOD

[amydancepants-peralta]

36 for fluff prompts? 🥺🥰

36: “A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightning/thunder, so I'll protect you”

This, and a bunch of other prompts that never made their way to AO3, have just been posted here.  ♥️

boom, clap 

It’s the steady roar from a shot of thunder that pulls Amy Santiago from her slumber that Thursday evening, her eyelids putting up a lazy fight against returning to sleep as she listens to the thunder’s reverberations coarse through the oft-unused metal of the fire escape outside.  

Briefly, she remembers hearing the weather man mention something about a storm during his report earlier this evening.  But her and Jake had been taking turns between cooking dinner and supervising their son as he coloured at the kitchen counter, and anything that wasn’t immediately in front of her had paled in importance.  

Gripping the edge of her favourite blanket Amy shifts in place, turning her body towards the slightly open windows as she listens to the rain falling on the street below.  She knows that she should probably get up and close the gaps before the rain has a chance to come in; but right now the warmth of their bed, mixed with the sound of the world outside, was just too good to ignore.

She’s long been a fan of rainy nights, ever since the first month or so of her and Jake’s relationship when they’d spent the better part of an entire stormy weekend lazing in bed, listening to the rain as it pounded against the brick outside.  The coolness that inevitably seemed to come with such weather had held no match for the warmth of her newly-titled boyfriend’s arms (the overcast clouds unable to compete with the brightness of his smile whenever she leaned in to kiss him), and their days off had passed slowly in a tangle of limbs.  Over time it had become her favourite thing to do: snoozing in the comfortable familiarity of Jake and waking to stubbly kisses; and although sleeping in doesn’t get to happen a lot these days, it is nights like these that pull the memories from their permanent home in the warmth of her heart.  

Her eyes have already turned towards her sleeping husband’s figure when the sky is suddenly flooded by a flash of lightning, their bedroom lighting up for half a second, and Amy silently counts out the seconds before the crash of thunder, stopping at fifteen and dividing by five the way her father taught her so many years ago.  Three miles - and not too far from home.

Jake’s body has turned towards her in his sleep, in a position that isn’t normal for either of them until they’re close to waking, and with her sight now well adjusted to the darkness Amy studies the familiar lines of his face.  Mouth open slightly as he lets out a muffled snore … face slack in the kind of peacefulness that only a decent night’s sleep can bring.  

The nights that followed his time in prison, when every strike of mother nature’s fury would make him quiver with fear, had never deviated far from Amy’s mind, and even though it had been years since he’d reacted that way her mind still went to her love every time a storm loomed above.

He’d told her one evening, with a voice that was shaking almost as hard as his body, that every clap of thunder sounded exactly like the doors of the jail cells in Jericho, slamming shut one by one along the corridor with an undeniable finality until it was his turn.  Each crash of lightning would hurtle him back to freezing nights on that bottom bunk; ignoring the guard’s self-satisfied smirk as he was yet again reminded that the only certainty now, was a life without freedom.  

The last time he’d cowered at the thunder, it had been about a month after they got engaged.  She’d held him close while he dropped kiss after kiss against her engagement ring, head burrowed against her chest until he finally fell asleep.   And it had made Amy realise that even though she herself held her own varying levels of fear - whether it be that drop-in-the-stomach feeling upon the realisation that the jokey, sometimes annoying detective that sat across every day somehow now occupied her every thought; or the heart-pounding-in-your-ears terror that took over all rational thought when she saw the same man (now, purely known as the love of her life) being held at gunpoint - truly, the one thing that both she and Jake were so scared to lose was a life without the other.  

Whether it was the constant reassurance of her presence, or the inherent knowledge that their life together really was just around the corner from being officially offical, Amy isn’t entirely sure.  What she does know is since that night, Jake had slept through every storm.  But still, with every tempest that had passed since, she has always taken a moment to check.  

Tonight, thankfully, seemed to be okay.  

The next clap of thunder is violent - the kind that seems to splinter right through your eardrum - and Jake’s eyes snap open right before they both hear the terrified wail of their son from his bedroom down the hall.  It’s followed a mere second later by the sound of his bare feet slapping against the floorboards as Mac races into their bedroom, bounding onto Jake and Amy’s bed without hesitation as the clouds grumble above.  

His tiny fingers grapple with the edge of their comforter, scurrying underneath the covers and shuffling closer to Amy in the blink of an eye, whimpering into her shirt as another round of thunder rumbles above.  

Amy feels Jake’s hands brush against her own as they both move to calm their son, murmuring  soft words of comfort as he shakes beneath them.  

“That last bang was a pretty loud one, huh buddy?”  Jake’s voice sounds a little rough, and Amy can tell it’s a combination of recently waking and watching Mac tremble.  Their three year old nods his head into her chest, and Jake continues.  “Yeah, they can sound pretty scary sometimes.”

Mac’s transition to a ‘big boy bed’ was a relatively recent one, and he had been So Proud to climb underneath the blankets earlier this evening that both Jake and Amy knew he had probably tried really hard to stay in his room as the ‘big brave boy’ he had declared himself to be only a few days ago.

Snuffling against her neck, Mac nods quickly at what Jake said before lifting his head up to look at his parents, his deep brown eyes suddenly so wide with fear that Amy’s heart sinks just a little.  This was her little lion, with his equally messy mane, and the owner of an incredibly contagious giggle.  Even if he had tested her resolve earlier today by having a full-on meltdown in the middle of the department store because she would not let him take home the fire extinguisher as his new toy; he was her baby boy, and the urge to protect him from all the scary parts of life was unparalleled.  

“But why?”

Jake and Amy lock eyes over the top of their son’s head, and with a comical roll of her eyes, Amy grins.  Lately, but why? had become two of Mac’s most favourite words to say.

She wants to tell him that logically, thunder is merely a ‘cause and response’ action, the atmosphere clashing between sudden and expansive pockets of heat that cool just as quickly as they build.  One day, they will take a trip to the library and read book after book on just how cool weather can be - make posters and projects about all of the different seasons and how they affect the earth as they pass through - but for now, she merely smiles at her son, and asks - “Do you remember when we went to watch Grandpa Ray play bowling with Kevin?”

“Gampa Way?”  (The letter R has been one of the more difficult letters for Mac to master, and the tiredness that still hovered over his body did not help in the slightest.)

“Yeah.  And remember how loud the bowling pins sounded every time he would roll a ball into them?”

(It had come as a complete surprise to everyone and no-one when fliers for Holt’s bowling tournament had landed on each of their desks.  It was, after all, exactly as their captain had described: a simple - “and yet vastly entertaining” - combination of both geometry and Newton’s second law of motion.  The entire squad had attended, if for no other reason than to watch their captain traipse along over-bleached wood in garishly red leather shoes, and had come away impressed by both he and Kevin’s smooth bowling techniques.)

Mac’s eyes grow wider at the memory and he nods, switching positions and burrowing into Jake’s arms as a quiet rumble rolls through the clouds.

“Well, thunder is just like that.  It’s when Mother Nature decides to take all of her friends, and go bowling.”  Amy pauses for a moment, waiting for any trace of doubt before continuing.  “There’s a rumble as the ball rolls down the lane … and every time you hear a loud bang, it’s just someone making another really great score.”

Resting his chin on his father’s chest, Mac looks up at Jake.  “Like Kevin?”

Giving him a gentle smile, Jake nods.  “Yeah, just like Kevin and Grandpa Ray.”  Wriggling slightly until his right arm is under the covers, Jake runs his index finger slowly along the bridge of his son’s nose back and forth.  It’s something that he’s done with Mac ever since he was born, and has a fairly high success rate in calming him down.

“But you know what?  It’s okay if the sounds scare you a little.  Or even a lot.  Daddy used to find the storms scary, too.”

Amy’s fingers weave through Mac’s curls from behind as she speaks.  “And Mommy, too.”

Rolling back until his head rests on the edges of both their pillows, Mac looks over at Amy before turning to Jake, then back to Amy again.  “Weally?”

“Yeah, bud.  Really.  Sometimes things are scary, and it’s okay if it makes you feel that way.”  

Taking in a deep breath, Amy feels her eyebrows raise at the sheer perfection of Jake’s response.  Since day dot, he’s been an amazing father to their son (and she knows he will be just the same to their next addition, still another eight months away) - providing that ideal mixture of attention and light-hearted approach to life that she loves so dearly.  For all his reservations about fatherhood, Amy genuinely cannot imagine doing this with anybody else. 

Stretching his neck slightly, Jake leans in towards them both.  “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Mr Mac, and you need to know it’s something that only us Peralta-Santiago’s will ever truly understand.”

Mac’s eyes seem to double in size as he scoots just that little bit closer to Jake, clearly intrigued.  Playing up to the mystery of it all, Jake curls his finger in a ‘come hither’ action, a grin breaking out onto his face when Mac follows eagerly.  

Unashamedly, Amy finds herself doing the same.  

Dropping his head down towards his son, Jake glances up at Amy before locking eyes with Mac, his voice coming out in a stage whisper as he divulges - “There’s no safer place in the world, than in Mommy’s arms.”

“In the world?”

“In the whole. world.” 

Flipping onto the mattress again, Mac turns to Amy - his eyes so wide with wonder that she cannot help but let out a chuckle, opening her arms in silent invitation.  He wriggles over to her eagerly, already convinced that what his father has told him is 100% the truth; and at the feeling of her son’s still slightly chubby cheeks resting against her chest Amy makes a silent prayer for moments like this to never, ever fade.  

“She gives the best hugs, that are completely filled with safety and protection and hope and … just love, My Mini Mac.  Your mom is just choc-full of love for the both of us, and the real secret is just how lucky we both are to get her hugs every. single. day.”

As her eyes begin to pool with tears, Amy looks over at Jake, mouthing I love you and breaking into a grin when he mouths it right back.  Even after all these years together, she still finds herself thinking that maybe she might just be the luckiest girl in the world.  “I don’t about you, bubba, but I kinda think your Daddy’s cuddles are just the BEST.”

Mac’s forehead brushes against her chest repeatedly as he nods, turning again to watch both of them from the pillow (truly, he can be the wriggliest of worms at times).  Tracing one of the buttons on his pyjamas with the tip of her finger, Amy deviates to give him a playful poke in the belly before tracing the button again.  “We’ll always be here for hugs, Macadoodle.  No matter what, no matter when.  Okay?”

Jake reaches his hand across the small space between them, linking his fingers with Amy’s and resting them against Mac’s stomach as his curls bounce from an enthusiastic nod.  

“Mama is right.  No matter what, no matter when.  But … for now, how about we try and get some sleep, little man?  You can stay here between us, and be the safest boy in all the universe.”

Amy feels a soft kick as Mac wriggles further down the mattress, and she waits until he’s fully settled before tucking him in gently.  “You’re right, Dadda.  You’ve got a big day tomorrow with Aunty Ro-Ro, so you need to build up all your energy.”  The clouds rumble slightly outside, and Jake slips out of bed quickly to close the windows as the rain begins to pelt down.  “Don’t worry about the storm, my little lion.  You’re safe here with us.”

As he returns to their bed, Jake leans forward slightly to press a kiss to Amy’s lips, following with a goodnight kiss to Mac’s forehead.  “A snug as a bug you are, mister.  Time for rest, okay?”

Both of the parents watch as Mac’s eyelids flutter shut, the tiniest of smiles staying on his face as he nestles into the blanket covering him.  Craning her neck, Amy leans forward in a silent request for another kiss, and gives her husband a contented smile as they pull away.  Despite how tired they both were, it was moments like this that made being a family all the more worth it.  

Storms may come and go, but what they have together is stronger than anything the world could try to throw at them.

She wakes in the morning with a tiny arm stretched across her face and the sound of her husband singing off-key in the bathroom, and as Amy curls onto her side to bathe in the warmth of the morning sun, she is absolutely certain that she is the luckiest.  

[briefololtragedy]

Wooden Blocks Ch 2

4 month well child check

Pairing: MinaSaku

Rating: G

Summary: Sakura continues to get to know Kakashi. Minato adapts to his new life.

Note: Kakashi an Sakura will have more of a platonic relationship. I do plan for Minato and Sakura to meet outside of the clinic in the next chapter.

Also posted on AO3

“Mr. Namikaze is everything alright?” Sakura didn’t know what trouble little Naruto could get into in the eight hours since he had seen him in the office. 

“Sorry to bother you Dr. Haruno, but it’s Naruto. He has this rash on his chest that just popped out of nowhere. I don’t know what to do.” Minato sounded panicked on the phone. 

“Can you describe the rash for me?” Sakura could hear him fumbling about with the phone. 

“It’s red and gooey looking. There are other redder areas around it.” At least he was doing better than most at describing the rash. She was perplexed how such a rash could just pop up. 

“Is it tender when you touch it?” Minato told her to wait a second. 

“Oh...Oh… It smells like pizza sauce. Oh.” Smelling like pizza sauce that was something Sakura had never heard of before. 

“Dr. Haruno I’m sorry to waste your time. I forgot one of my old mentors was watching Naruto this afternoon so I could go into work for a few hours. He must have gotten pizza sauce on Naruto when he was eating. My mentor even sent a picture of Naruto on his lap as he ate the pizza.” Minato felt like a complete and total idiot. He just freaked out when he saw red that he didn’t pay close enough attention. 

“It’s ok Mr. Namikaze. I’m glad it is just pizza sauce. I do recommend a good sponge bath for little Naruto. Did you have any other questions?” Sakura had to stifle her laughter as she talked to him. First time parents. She then paused. He was a first time single father, he must be a nervous wreck going at this all alone.

“No. No other questions.” Minato sounded like a defeated puppy. 

“Mr. Namikaze please don’t feel bad about calling. I would rather you can when you have a concern. You don’t know what something is or what is going on unless you ask. They didn’t give you a pamphlet on how to raise a child. So please don’t ever hesitate to call. Have a good night.” Sakura hung up the phone and took a deep breath. She felt fabric being draped over her shoulders. 

“I thought you would need a jacket. It gets chilly once the sun sets.” Sakura found Kakashi’s coat on her. Her heart was warmed by the kind gesture. 

“That is very considerate of you. Thank you.” Kakashi walked Sakura to her car. As she unlocked her doors she gave Kakashi’s jacket back to him. She couldn’t help herself when she placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you for dinner.” Before she could get in the car his hand stopped her. 

“I had a nice evening. Could I get your number?” Sakura blushed. She gave Kakashi her number, applauding herself for not stuttering too much. 

“Have a good night Kakashi.” 

“You too Sakura.” Sakura sat in her car thinking back to her crazy day. She enjoyed her time with Kakashi, but wasn’t sure if she saw anything romantically happening with him. There was something that just wasn’t right. However, she would give it another try if he called her.

_____________________

After Dr. Haruno hung up the phone Minato couldn’t help but to bang his head against his kitchen table. He was so worried when he saw the “rash” on Naruto he freaked out. He has never felt like more of an idiot in his life. 

Jiraya was kind enough to watch Naruto this afternoon. Minato was so nervous leaving, but he had to go into his office for a few hours. He had worked hard over the years building his architect firm and they were getting a proposal ready for a big bank. He knew he could trust Obito and Kakashi with the deal, but he wanted to make sure everything was immaculate. 

The trio had worked so hard they didn’t realize it was 7pm. Kakashi had to make a quick exit, saying something about a blind date. That left him and Obito together. Obito decided to order food stating that he “needed a break.” Minato couldn’t protest because before he knew it Obito had already placed an order for burgers and fries. 

“The order will be here in 20 minutes. I know you want to get back to Naruto, but he is in good hands with Jiraiya. Sit down and rest for a little bit.” While Obito tended to be the more easy going jokester between them. He also cared deeply for his friends and family. 

“You’re right. Now tell me how are you going to propose to Rin?” Minato laughed as Obito stammered. He may have been preoccupied in the last few months, but he knew Obito was going to propose soon. 

“Who told you? The only other one who knows is ...Kakashi told you!” Obito had jumped up and pointed a finger at Minato. For a man in his early 30s Obito was still a kid at heart. 

“Kakashi visited just before Naruto was discharged. He wanted to get my mind off of things and told me. Don’t get too mad at him.” While Kakashi shouldn’t have told Minato it did bring his mind out of a dark place. He had something to look forward to. Obito was taking a big step in his life and he needed to be by his side. 

“By the way Rin said she would be open to babysit anytime you need her.” 

Minato might just take RIn up on her offer, at some point. He shook his head, not now of course. Minato went over the sink to make a bath for Naruto. He didn’t feel like messing with the tube and the baby seat. When he went to the bathroom to get the baby body wash, towel, and washcloth, he stopped. He stared at the small rubber duck holding a bowl of ramen. Minato carefully picked it up and took it with him. 

He checked the water with his hand before placing Naruto in. As the warm water hit his skin Naruto started to giggle. The smile he gave could melt the hardest of men. It reminded him of Kushina. He would not let the tears fall. 

Minato wrapped Naruto in his towel. He made sure every little bit of pizza sauce was off of him. He placed Naruto in the bassinet next to his bed. He fell fast asleep. Minato crawled into bed and watched the rise and fall of Naruto’s chest. He slowly drifted to sleep. 

_________________________

It had been a week since Sakura heard from Minato last. She was surprised she didn’t get any more calls, but hoped he was settling in. 

Sakura had a jammed packed schedule for the day. They had double booked her in 4 different times spots meaning she would not have lunch. She really liked lunch...well food in general. She was hoping for some no shows. While she adored all her patients she might lose her sanity at the end of the day. 

She looked at her schedule and at least she started with one of her favorites. 

“Shikadai! How is my favorite 2 year old doing?” When she saw that bright smile spread across  his face her day instantly brightened. For the next 3 hours Sakura flashed in and out of her exam rooms. The nurses would just see a flash of pink and then children’s laughter. She did get behind due to the scheduling errors, but the parents and children were understanding. For the most part at least. Her patient at 1145, was not so understanding, even though they were a walk in. 

“Hello you must be Miss Ami. I’m Dr. Haruno, sorry for your wait.” The little girl had short purple hair and brown eyes. Before Ami could speak her mother cut in. 

“We have been waiting for 30 minutes. My child has horrible abdominal pain and you place us in this room to wait.” Sakura had to take a deep breath. She did a quick glance of Ami who was sitting comfortably by her mother playing a game on the phone. No increased work of breathing, no pallor, no distress. At least the first glance Ami looked ok. 

“I’m sorry about Mrs.Yoshi. Can you tell me when the pain started?” 

“It has been going on for 3 weeks.” Sakura could not let her eye twitch externally. Three weeks! 

“And what changed with the pain today to bring her in?” Sakura kept her smile on her face. 

“It’s gotten worse and she had an accident at school.” Ami looked away from Sakura and tried to hide behind her mother. 

“Oh you poor thing. That must have been so hard for you. Was it a stool or urine accident?” 

“It was poop.” 

“How often does she have a bowel movement?” 

“Once every couple of days. She sometimes cries.” 

“Let me take a look over. Miss Ami can you get up on the table for me?” Ami dropped the phone and hopped up on the table with ease. No concerns for appendicitis at the moment. 

Sakura quickly looked over Ami. Making sure to feel on her stomach and ask where the pain was. Thankfully she did not have any localization to the right lower quadrant, but she did feel full. 

“Alright Mrs. Yoshi I want to get an Xray of Ami’s abdomen. At her age constipation is a common cause of abdominal pain. With the worsening of her pain I know it can be scary, but the location is not consistent with appendicitis. She also has not had any fevers and no nausea or vomiting, which is all reassuring. So Miss Ami let's get a picture of that tummy. Have you ever had an Xray done before?” Mrs. Yoshi seemed to have relaxed some. As she settled Ami and her mother into the waiting area she made her way back to her desk. She would have a few minutes to catch up on some notes and type up a summary for Ami. 

Fifteen minutes later she was bidding farewell to the duo. Mrs. Yoshi did apologize on the way out. 

“I know it’s scary when your child is in pain. This should get her to feeling better and I want to see her back in 1 month.” As she watched the mother and daughter leave her stomach roared like a lion. It was 1240 and she would not have time to get lunch. She prayed she had a granola bar in her bag. 

When Sakura got to her office she froze. 

“I thought I would surprise you with lunch. Hope you don’t mind. Ino told me where you worked.” 

Kakashi sat in her office with the most delicious smelling food. Warmth filled her. 

“That’s very kind of you and couldn’t have been on a better day. I wasn’t going to have time to get something to eat.” Sakura eagerly sat down. She didn’t even think as she took the box of stir fry from Kakashi and stuffed her face. She was so engrossed in her food she didn’t realize the mess she was making. Kakashi’s laugh brought her out of her food zone. 

“I’m glad you like the food.” Kakashi tried hard not to cringe. He was enjoying getting to know Sakura over the last week, but he just wasn’t sure. 

“Sorry. I was just so hungry. How is your day going so far?” Sakura tried to salvage her dignity as she cleaned her face off. 

“Good. My boss will be coming back to work next week, so everyone is frantic, but it will be nice to have him back. Do you have any plans for the weekend?” Sakura had to think. Today was Wednesday or was it Thursday? It really didn’t matter, she didn’t have anything planned. 

“No. I don’t have any plans.” 

“Would you be interested in going with me to an art gallery Saturday night?” Sakura wasn’t sure, but she promised Ino she would try. 

“Sure. Sounds like it could be fun.” Well at least it would get her out of her house. 

____________________________

Minato was settling into a rhythm with Naruto. He would wake up about two times during the night. No more coughing at night was music to Minato’s ears.  Minato started taking Naruto to daycare for a couple hours out of the day. During those couple of hours he would work from home making sure everything was ready when he went back full time on Monday. 

It was currently 3pm on Friday and he was looking forward to his weekend with Naruto. He just had to finish up some paperwork. The ring of his phone caused him to jump slightly. 

“Kakashi is everything ok?” Kakashi was placed in charge of the office when Minato was away, so Minato was hoping that nothing was going wrong. Kakashi was an efficient and intelligent man, but he tended to do more reading than working at work. 

“I couldn’t remember the name of that restaurant that you were talking about a few weeks back and needed a refresher.” Minato had to think back. He then remembers one of the restaurants he would frequent when Naruto was in the hospital. 

“Ichiraku Ramen? Why do you want to know?” 

“ I have a date tomorrow night and want to take her somewhere after the art gallery.” 

“You cannot take her to Ichiraku Ramen! Take her to the Crimson Dragon, it’s nicer.” He then heard Kakashi mumble on the other end of the phone. Minato hoped that their date went well, Kakashi was too much of a recluse. He also hoped Kakashi showed up on time.  

“Alright I gotta go pick up Naruto. I’ll see you at work Monday. Oh and don’t be late.” 

Minato quickly made his way to pick up Naruto. He was looking forward to a lazy weekend. 

_______________________

Sakura stared at her closet. She had no clue what to wear. What does one wear to an art gallery? She stared at her phone. Regret overcame her as she pressed the call button. 

“What’s up Forehead?” Sakura sighed. 

“What does one wear to an art gallery and then out to dinner?” Sakura had to pull the phone away from her ear as Ino screamed. 

“Please tell me it’s Kakashi! He’s cute, right?” Ino went on a five minute rant rating all the guys she has seen recently. 

“Ino. Can we get back to me?” Sakura was getting a headache. 

“ You have to wear your black wrap dress with the gold heels. Pin your hair up. And for the love of god don’t look like a mess.” Sakura took great offense to that. She never looked like a mess, although working with kids tended to get her sticky with lots of different material. 

“Thanks Pig.” 

“I expect details tomorrow over coffee.” Sakura didn’t waste any time hanging up the phone. She made quick work of getting dressed and she was ready just on time. 

Well she thought she was ready on time. 7pm rolled by and Kakashi didn’t show up. She looked at her phone making sure she had the right time. Yep. He was going to pick her up at 7pm and it was now 745. So she waited. Sakura checked her phone multiple times. No new calls or messages. 

Then she heard the knock on her door. She wanted to yell at Kakashi for being late, but reeled it in. Instead she put a smile on her face and opened the door. 

“Yo. Sorry I’m late. Ready to go?” That’s all she got. No explanation. Sakura’s smile went tense and she nodded yes. 

________________________

The art was interesting to say the least. It definitely wasn’t her style and the artist was a little too obsessed with depicting puppets in his work. As they walked to the restaurant her phone rang. She knew she wasn’t going to go a night of being on call without someone calling her. Mei was going to owe her for taking her call tonight. She quickly excused herself before they headed in. 

“This is Dr. Haruno.” 

“Hi Dr. Haruno, it's Minato...Naruto’s father.” 

“Hello Mr. Namikaze, what is going on with Naruto this evening?” 

“He has a fever and won’t keep his formula down.” Sakura delved into the typical questions. How long has it been going on? How high has the temperature gotten? How many wet diapers? It started this morning apparently. Naruto’s temperature has gotten up to 100.6. He was eating well during the day, but for the last 2 bottles he has been throwing up. Eight wet diapers so far today. No diarrhea. 

“Has he been around anyone sick?” 

“Umm I started taking him to daycare a few hours each day. I don’t know of anyone sick there.” Sakura winced, daycares were a cesspool of germs. 

“He probably picked something up there. Give him some tylenol for his fever and see how he does after that. If he continues to throw up you can try some pedialyte. He likely caught a viral infection. If you notice any increased work of breathing, less than 2 wet diapers, I would take him to the ED or to the clinic if it is on the weekday.” 

“Thank you Dr. Haruno.” 

“No problem Mr. Namikaze. Please let me know if there is anything else.” As Sakura hung up the phone she found herself smiling. She had a feeling both would have a lot of growing over the next couple of years. 

Sakura soon entered the restaurant and joined Kakashi for their dinner.  

___________________________

It had been 3 weeks since Sakura last heard from Minato. When she got back to the office the Monday following his call she made sure the nurse called to check on them. Once Naruto got some tylenol he started taking his bottles again. His fever only lasted a day and he was back to normal. 

Sakura looked at her schedule and smiled when she saw a certain 4 month old’s name. He would be coming in later in the day. She was looking forward to seeing that mop of blonde hair. Her day passed relatively smoothly. Her last appointment for the day canceled, which meant after seeing Naruto her day would be done. Now she just had to wait. She didn’t have to wait long as she saw them check in and then get roomed. 

_________________

The last few weeks have gone better for the Adventures of Naruto and Minato. Yes Minato came up with his very own title for Naruto’s life. After the fever most things were smooth sailing. Naruto was doing well adjusting to being in daycare and to Minato’s credit he adjusted decently too. He only tried to run out of the office a couple of times to check on him. Obito and Kakashi would snicker when he tried. Rin always seemed to show up and halted his attempt to escape. 

His firm was almost done with the bid for the bank tower. The proposal started to come together nicely. As he sat in the waiting room this time it was less nerve wrecking then the first time. There was a different nurse this time who called for them. Naruto was happy babbling in Minato’s lap. They were rushed back for the vital component and placed into an exam room. 

A knock on the door made Naruto jump. 

“Well if it isn’t little Naruto. Look how big you have gotten. Mr. Namikaze it's good to see you again.” Naruto easily smiled at Dr. Haruno as she talked. Minato could see Naruto’s head move as she sat down. Dr. Haruno seemed to be solely focused on Naruto, which was refreshing. Most women just stared at him and ignored Naruto. 

“Alright any questions or concerns for today?” And with that the questions started. After the barrage of questions he watched as Dr Haruno easily picked up Naruto and started to look him over. For some reason the lack of attention he was getting was bothering him. 

“How is daycare going?” Minato realized he had zoned out. 

“Uh...daycare is going well. Aside from the fever a few weeks ago, he has not had any colds. Will he get another cold?” Minato wasn’t sure if he could handle Naruto being sick. 

“It is likely he will get another cold and more then just one. How has his sleeping been? I know last time he had problems with a cough at night.” 

“He wakes about twice at night for a bottle and then he is back to sleep. As for the cough that seems to have gone away.” Naruto started to reach for her stethoscope as she picked him up. He watched as Naruto tried to kick his legs on the table. 

“That’s good. Aright Naruto you look good. It is time for his four month shots. He can be a little fussy afterwards, so you can give him some tylenol if needed. I’ll have the nurse come in to give the shots. Mr. Naruto I will be seeing you again at 6 months of age. Try not to scare your father with pizza sauce this time.” Minato’s checks flushed as she mentioned the pizza incident. 

“We will be seeing you in 2 months Doc.” Minato watched as she left. Naruto looked at his father and giggled. 

[lightsburnbrite]

The Devil is in the Details: Part 10

@i-want--to--believe

Leon sat on the bench in front of his locker once he had changed back into his street clothes. It was an intense training and the mood was generally sour but it gave him time to think. Karina was right, she had been true to form for as long as he had known her, and it was never an issue for him before. Leon even remembered laughing because she’d been getting dressed for work in this pantsuit that looked so classy but had what sounded like tribal drums banging on in the background. Then there was the time she was wearing some band t-shirt with a scribbly, illegible text on it while bopping along to Cro and Samy Deluxe. The more that he thought about it, the more he realized that was one of the things he loved most about her, there was no way to pigeonhole Karina.

Making sure that he had at least a bit of privacy, he got his phone out to call her. It didn’t surprise Leon that it went to voicemail, he waited for the tone and then started his message.

“Hey Mausi. I’m so, so sorry. I was out of line this morning and you are completely right. Sometimes your sense of humor can be above me and I just was overreacting. I love you so much and I know I’ve got a lot more apologizing to do when I get home. We’ve got a meeting to go to but I’ll be back right after that. Love you.”

With a sigh, Leon hung up and then waited as patiently as he could before the team was released. When he pulled into his parking space and saw Karina’s car, he smiled.

“Hey Maus! I’m home!” He put his bag down by the door, his keys on the counter. “Where are you, babe?”

When there was no response, he assumed that Karina had taken Elsa out on a walk. Leon made his way to the bedroom but stopped short when he saw Elsa sprawled across their bed.

“Hey, pup.” He gave Elsa a pat on the head. “Where’s your Mama?”

Walking over to his side of the bed, Leon saw a small pink post-it note that wasn’t there this morning.

Thought you could use a break from me. -K

Leon held the note in his hand for a moment before placing it back down on the nightstand, smoothing the top so it stuck. He looked around for a minute to see if he could figure out where she had gone. Her suitcase was still in the closet so maybe she wasn’t planning on being gone for long. It made the most sense for her to go to the big house, she even had clothes there. As much as he didn’t like it, he’d giver her a day or two and then he’d drop by to see if she was ready to come home. Still, he thought he should call her again to set the record straight.

Again, it went to voicemail.

“I got your note, Maus. I don’t need a break from you, I want you to come home. But if you need some time away, I get it. I just…please come home as soon as you’re ready. Can you call me back? I just really need to hear your voice. Ok. I love you.”

Sitting down on the bed, Leon stared out of the door that led to the balcony. He had spent almost every night for the past two years with Karina. They rarely fought and when they did it never lasted more than an hour or so before they had forgiven each other. He felt entirely lost without her.  

Leon was beyond relieved when their once open practice was changed to a private one. He never turned down fans for autographs or selfies but not having to do it today meant he wouldn’t need to hang around any longer than he needed to. Practice for the next day had been canceled as well and while he’d normally put in some extra time, he really just needed to get to Berchtesgaden.

Sitting and waiting for the automatic gate to open, Leon realized he was holding his breath. Letting out a great sigh, he drummed the steering wheel impatiently as the metal seemed to creep along on its track. Finally, he parked and let himself in the side entrance. He had started up the stairs to their bedroom when he heard Olga call out to him.

“Herr Goretzka, what a pleasant surprise!” Olga was smiling and he could tell that she was indeed happy to see him. “I was not expecting you, otherwise I would have had lunch ready. Is Miss Ekaterina expected to be joining you?”

His heart sank. “She’s not here already?”

When Olga only looked puzzled in response, Leon nodded as if she was right to do so. “We had an argument and she walked out saying she was giving me a break from her. I don’t know where she went, I was really hoping to find her here.”

“I’m sorry. I have not seen her.” She offered a sympathetic head tilt. “Perhaps she is with her parents?”

Leon nodded again. “I had thought about that also. I’ll give them and her brother a call. Maybe they can help.”

Olga insisted that she make Leon some lunch before he left but soon Leon was on his way back to Munich.

***

Karina ran a shower with the water as hot as she could stand. She scrubbed her skin pink as she tried to figure out what she needed to do. She needed to think, but she couldn’t do that here, not now anyway. Her mind went back to how much she enjoyed roaming the streets along the Amsterdam canals and suddenly it clicked for Karina that she wanted to replicate that feeling.

After drying her hair, she grabbed her backpack, made sure her laptop and phone chargers were in there and packed a few sets of clothes plus her passport and set off for the train station.

Without a real itinerary, Karina made a list in her mind of where she wanted to visit and decided on Berlin, that was the first train leaving. Of course, flying would be quicker, but the train ride would give her a chance to figure out her next step. Leon had apparently decided that he did not like who she was and for Karina, the only two logical options seemed to be change or leave. The only problem was she didn’t like either of those options.

She spent the next week and a half, riding the train from Munich to Berlin to Amsterdam to Paris, checking in and out of hotels and spending her days in museums and galleries. She had gone through and deleted every single post off her instagram and now it was filled with clips of her view from the train and anything that caught her eye. She had heard Leon’s many messages but wasn’t ready to talk to him. Instead, she hoped the posts brought him some comfort accompanied by a short text; I’m doing some traveling. Be home soon.  

By the time Karina made it to Paris, she felt like she was ready to go home. It seemed somehow fitting that the Louvre would be her last stop on this impromptu European art tour. She was thankful that the crowd was small on a Wednesday evening and that the piece she most wanted to see had been practically ignored by those more interested in seeing the Mona Lisa.

Sitting on the floor, Karina gazed up and admired the detail etched into the marble of Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss. The sculpture was meant to be viewed from all angles but Karina found that she preferred what she saw while seated. The piece itself was beautiful on its own but knowing the story that the artist based his work on - the trials that Psyche went through, Cupid eventually warding off his vengeful mother somehow made it more significant. She figured that Leon had accepted her posts as proof of life and decided to offer this image as a clandestine message that she was thinking of him. The last few rays of sunlight seemingly embracing Cupid and Psyche led her to add The Sounds’ Sail into the Sun as a soundtrack to the story. Shadows stretched out across the Louvre’s floor as the singer crooned on:

We sail into the sun

We sail into the sun

Golden rays are shining down on me

They set my soul on fire

And let it burn free

I’m trying to believe

I’m trying to belong

I’d do it all again

I’d do it all for you

Karina timed it so that she would get home while Leon was at practice. She didn’t have much to unpack, but she did have things to sort out. She stood in front of her closet with Amy Dune’s Cool Girl monologue running through her head. Cool girl never gets angry at her man. She only smiles in a chagrin, loving manner and then presents her mouth for fucking.

***

As soon as Leon walked in, he realized that Karina had come home.

“Maus?” He called out. “Mausi, I-”

Karina walked out to meet him but held up her hand. “Before you say anything, can I just speak for a minute?”

“Yeah,” Leon wanted desperately to grab Karina and pull her against him, he wanted to hold on to her so she couldn’t run away again, but he refrained. “Of course.”

“I love you. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” Karina felt her words catch in her throat but she willed herself to go on. “But I also love me. It took me a long time to learn to love myself and part of that was realizing that I am enough. I have never been anything but myself whenever I am around you and I will not change myself to better suit anyone. Even you. I’m sorry.”

Leon took Karina’s hand in is and smiled. “You are absolutely right and you have no reason to be sorry.”

“But you were so mad at me.” Karina pulled away slightly but then stopped herself, she didn’t want to seem too distant but she was definitely not ready to lower her guard. “I still don’t understand what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” He offered a sheepish shrug. “I guess the whole thing with the detective freaked me out and then Jörg said something about getting you under control. I don’t know why I flipped out on you and I’m so sorry that I did. Can you forgive me?”

Karina stood there for a moment but didn’t really have an answer. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Ok, I can work with that.” Giving her hands a brief squeeze, Leon gently let go.

Suddenly, Karina found that she couldn’t keep eye contact with him and moved her gaze to his feet.

“Karina, I meant it when I said I asked you to marry me because I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Leon walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. “That includes your terrible taste in music, extracurricular activities, whatever tattoos you might feel like getting, and whoever your friends are.”

With a laugh, she gave a slight nod, but Leon continued.

“I will give you as much space as you need to figure things out. I can sleep on the couch-”

She shook her head now. “I don’t want you to sleep on the couch. I couldn’t stand being away from you but I thought you didn’t like me, that you didn’t want me.”

As soon as Karina took a step towards him, Leon quickly moved to embrace her. “Do you know why I always picked on you whenever I was around?”

“Because I was small and annoying like a little mouse?” She spoke into his chest.

“Ok,” Leon laughed now. “I know that’s what I said but boys are stupid so that was the only way I knew how to show you that I liked you.”

Karina stood back and raised an eyebrow.

With a smile, Leon kissed her forehead. “Honestly? I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember too.”

[melyaliz]

Night Person

Fandom: Yu-Gi-OH

Summary: All the best things happened to Amie at night. 

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x OC 

Notes: Ok so @speedypan reminded me of my TOTAL and UTTER love for Yugioh. Honestly, I have both my DC fanfic revival and now Yuigoh credited to her. Just wait, soon I’ll be bringing back Avatar and Naruto soon 😂😝

Like as we speak I am working on re-editing my old series and posting it on archive but I figured I could post some of my NEW stuff here? I promise I am still working on Nancy’s second part and @werewitchling’s Charlie request :P Life has just been rough and I guess Seto calms my nerves (weird) 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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Amie was a night person. She had her best ideas late at night, her breakthrough on projects, and adventures late at night.

Honestly, she hadn’t thought too much about it but her best moments happened at night too.

-Thursday 10:32pm-

Everyone was gone. Most of the lights were off. At least they were in the rest of Kaiba Corp  As for the animation lab, everything was still bright and cheery.

WHY?

Because Amie was still hard at work and she was NOT about to be stuck in some creepy Freddy Kroger style office. If she had to stay late to cover her idiot co-workers the world around her better be bright and cheery.

A large soda at her side and music blasting in her ears while she tried to get the Dark magician’s hat just right. It just wasn’t folding the way she… wait, was that a kid?

Glancing over their screen she blinked again before rubbing her eyes. Contacts starting to dry out. Honestly, she should just go home but she was sooo close. Maybe if she just…

There it was again.

Leaning out of her chair she studied the doorway. Ok, now she was getting slightly creeped out. This was some Chucky style shit. Glancing back down at her screen she clicked save several hundred times on her project. Never can be too safe. Then glancing up, her brown eyes locking onto a pair of dark blue ones.

“Uhhh Hello child of the corn.”

“What?”

“Nothing… are your parents around”

The boy laughed shoving his hands into his pockets. “Are you new?”

“Yes… oh fuck… I mean fudge… oh, fudge. Sorry... Mokuba right?”

“That’s me.” he shrugged waving his hand at her apologetic smile, “It’s kind of late why are you still here?”

“Because of the hat from hell.”

“What?”

“Why are you?” change the subject, no point in bitching about the design issues with the big boss’s kid brother. Would he be considered the Big kid? The small boss?

“Because my brother is a work-a-holic.”

“I feel it.”

Mokuba walked over to her screen glancing over at the screen studying her work, “looks good to me.”

Amie couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah but that hat.” clicking the space bar the small magician started to move making the hat flip in rather unrealistic movements causing Mokuba laugh.

“It looks like… it looks…”

“Oh yeah, I’m very aware...”

“Well can I hang out with you while you work on it?”

“Only if you tell me about your day, I like listening to things while I work.”

“Well you’re in luck, I happen to be a GREAT storyteller.”  

-Friday 11:53pm-

It was late and Amie was just finishing up. That total complete moron Jeff had ONCE again spectacularly destroyed the files they needed to get to Seto that Monday for the pitch.

And instead of staying and cleaning up his mess the wonderful oh so hard working moron ditched saying something about “having to go.” Amie was about 90% sure he was just going to see his girlfriend and probably get an early start on his weekend.

Something Amie had hoped to do. But no, instead she was trapped cleaning up his mess working well into the evening.

“Fuck that guy,” Amie grumbled to herself as she walked down the halls holding her 4th mug of coffee hoping that would jump-start the creative process for her. Although it was really just helping her brain come up with a million ways she hoped Jeff would suffer for his idiocracy. Maybe some burning diarrhea or maybe he would get a HUGE dent his beloved car?

“What are you still doing here… wait…”

Amie winced as she paused looking up from her thoughts to see the CEO himself Seto Kaiba. The only time Seto had bothered to pay attention to Amie the intern was when her brother had faked her submission to get her in. After that, he had never sent her a second glance.

Which was good because she was too young for this position and if anyone found out she was NOT a college student she could lose this opportunity of a lifetime.

“Yes Boss Dude?” she muttered glancing up at him from under the dark black bangs of her work wig.

“Don’t I go to school with you?” Seto asked taking a step closer, his piercing blue eyes studying her. Ok, it also didn’t help that Amie found the dueling champion super hot. Like not in a “we’re soulmates” kind of way but more of a “You’re eyes make me nervous” sort of way.

“If I say yes will you fire me?”

“Humm” he studied her for a moment, “Why are you here so late?”

“Just finishing up the prototypes for the pitch on Monday.”

“And your supervisor couldn't do that?”

“He had a hot date.”

“Then no.” with that he turned and walked off.

“Wait!” a weird rush of confidence came over it. Maybe it was the 4th cup of coffee or the fact it was almost midnight and she had been listening to Paramore on repeat for 3 hours. Regardless of the reason, her command made Seto pause glancing back over his shoulder, “If you fire me then I can go home and if the images aren’t perfect it won’t be on my conscience?”

At that moment a million puppies died as hell froze over because… Seto cracked a small smirk.

“Make it perfect and I’ll promote you.”

“Deal.”

-Tuesday 9:06pm-

Tap tap tap, Amie hummed along with the Supremes as she tapped her stylist on the table waiting for the computer to render. She was oh so close to being done. A stack of science books next to her because she also had a quiz tomorrow she may or may not have studied for.

“Jeff ditch you again?” A voice broke into her song as the rude voice pulled an earbud out.

Lucky for this intrusive voice Amie had a soft spot for him.

“At this point, I would be annoyed if he didn’t,” she said spinning around in her chair which caused her headphones to unplug the song blasting across the editing bay.

“What is this?” Mokuba asked raising an eyebrow. Amie let out a gasp.

“Mokuba! Don’t tell me you have never heard the Supremes!”

“Nope. It sounds kind of… Chick”

“It’s very chick. They are in love with love, listen.” clicking on You Can’t Hurry Love she started swinging around in her chair to the music.

“I guess it’s ok…”

“Chair dance! Grab a chair”

“Ooookk” Mokuba knew better than to argue with Amie once the clock passed 8:45. That was when she had her third cup of coffee and the weird ideas started.

Three songs later Mokuba and Amie were rolling in a very impressive choreographed routine across the isles of computers screaming “I Want You Back” By the Jackson 5 at the tops of their lungs.

“Good to see there is a lot of work going on in here.”

Amie laughed turning to see Seto leaning   the door frame, “Are you the only one who ever stays late?”

“I would say yes but you are here.”

“I’m here too!” Mokuba said scooting his chair next to Amie reminding her that he was, in fact, also there.

“Yeah, but you don’t work here, just make everything better.”

Mokuba laughed flipping his thick black hair, “I do don’t I.”

“Well, It’s time to go,” Seto said nodding toward this brother. Mokuba nodded getting up pushing his chair back to its rightful desk. “And Amie.”

Dear God, he knew her name… did the world just stop spinning or was that her heart? Amie wasn’t sure if it was that annoying crush on his pretty blue eyes or the fact that he was basically her boss and had the power to ruin her animator dreams.

“Go home, the project will be there tomorrow.”

Ok, the world really had stopped, had she somehow entered some paralleled universe? Had THE Seto Kaiba just told one of his employees to STOP working? “Uhhhh, Yes sir.”

Mentally she kicked herself as she slowly rolled back to her desk feeling her cheeks heat up. Mokuba watching her as she quickly saved the project before closing down her computer. Shit girl, could you get any weirder?

-Monday 10:17pm-

Nothing had changed yet everything had changed.

Amie had quit last week. Jeff had blamed her on the whole project crumbling and when she stood there in front of a angry Seto she broke. She didn’t deserve this. She worked harder than anyone else at this fucking editing lab and had covered that dick weed’s back so many times and he just threw her to the flipping wolves.

I mean SURE Seto Kaiba’s rage was probably the most frighting thing Amie had EVER seen in her life but even facing his dragon size temper she wouldn’t have thrown a teammate under the bus like that.

She didn’t deserve this.

Which is what she told Seto.

He had stood there wide-eyed in pure shock. No one had EVER quit Kaiba corp before. With the best pay and benefits, there was a reason people put up with the companies CEO.

But not her.

She had been done.

Until the famous CEO showed up at her apartment door telling her that he needed more people like her on his team. People who cared about their craft and did this because they loved it not because of the money or prestige of it all.  

So goodbye Jeff and hello personal editing lab.

This didn’t mean she still didn’t have late night because… well, nights seemed to be her magic time.

A cup of coffee slid into her peripheral. Glancing over Amie almost had a heart attack seeing Seto standing over her desk.

“You just jumped almost a mile.”

“Well, you just scared the hell out of me.”

“Mokuba will literally rip your headphones out of your ear and you will not flinch.”

“But I’m expecting him…” Amie bit her lip trying to find the right words as she took the coffee taking a sip her dark brown eyes not leaving Setos, “What’s up?”

“Just checking in,” he said taking a chair and sitting down next to her.

Well fuck, there was NO way she could work with those blue eyes watching her. And at this close range, he smelled good too. Of course, he would smell good, he’s a rich CEO he probably bathed in Versace. She, on the other hand, probably smelled like coffee and insecurity.

They both sat in silence for a moment then Amie turned to him, “Do you want me to like explain where I am or something?”

“If you want.”

“Helpful”

“Pardon?”

Shit, did she just say that out loud? Whoooops. Maybe she could quit again?

“Uhhh I mean… well at the moment I am coming up with color pallets for each character. Like what shades we want for them so that regardless of who is animating the character they will always look the same.”

Seto nodded as he watched her click through the files copy and pasting the code into a document before going back to the Coral Dragon she had been working on adjusting the shades trying to brighten up his wings just a little bit more.

“I would add more undertones of red”

You can’t say no to the boss, so she pulled up the color wheel moving it, “Like that,”

“Just a bit more… yeah there.”

“Ohhh I like that. Guess you’re the boss for a reason.” Amie could feel his eyes on her but for the first time, she didn’t feel so tense like maybe they had just had a breakthrough. Bonded? Maybe just a little.

Mokuba found his brother and Amie a few hours later still in Amie’s new office going over characters. Seto pointing out changes and Amie suggesting ways to make it work. Both of them seemed to relax and just working in harmony that Mokuba didn’t want to bother them.

It was nice to see his brother actually enjoying himself.

-Friday 11:11pm-

“No stop touching!” Amie snapped swatting away Seto’s hand as he tried to direct her on the computer. It was already very late and everyone else had left for the day but Amie had stayed trying to fix the editing issues they kept running into. Her pink hair pulled up in a messy bun several pencils lost inside the mess. Must like her mood at the moment.

“You are doing it wrong”

“No, you are just messing me up being this close”

“I don’t see how me being close would mess you up, just do your job.”

“It’s the blue eyes.”

“What?”

“They need to be at least 5 feet away from me,” Amie said turning to look at her boss who was only a few inches from her looking over her shoulder trying to direct her work on the new dueling virtual game. This seemed to be happening a lot more. Seto popping in and not leaving. Normally Amie didn’t hate it but today… today something was just bothering her about how close the CEO was to her.

Seto turned slightly as if he finally realized how close he was to her. Something she had been feeling all night.

“Then again they are pretty nice this close up.” Amie snickered coffee brain kicking in. Words she was thinking seeming like a good idea said aloud.

“Are… you flirting with me right now?”

“Wait you haven't been?” Amie laughed deciding to call him out, “You had your arm on my shoulder for like 20 minutes telling me how to do my job while we worked on the graphic for the points counter.”

This caused Seto to pull away. Amie felt her stomach clunch. Shit, shit she had just made things super awkward. Deciding to just play it cool she turned back to her screen, pushed some loose strands of her hair away from her face.

She continued her work trying to ignore the mess of butterflies in her stomach until they all lept and died at the feeling of a hand on hers. She turned, confused about to ask what Seto was doing only to have him kiss her.

Soft and sweet. A little clumsy as if he really didn’t know what he was doing but he was confident in it. She found it funny how confident he was really. It was one of the things she liked about him. How confident he was. That and how dorky he was. Her confident dork.

Leaning forward she kissed him back trying to fight back the smile that was on her lips.

They were never going to get this project done in time.

Yep, Amie was a night person. How could she not be when all the best things happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Who Wants to be tagged?~

[lclrgsl]

fandom: marvel pairing: kastle words: 1.7k rating: T

read on ao3

Hi! @ravingliberal I am your Kastle secret Santa! I am so sorry for being this late! I wish you a Happy New Year and I hope you’ll have an amazing year. I really hope you will like it! 

Pete’s life is a cup of black coffee in the morning while listening to the radio. It’s grabbing the New York Bulletin on his way to work to read it during lunch, two sandwiches and another coffee. 

He needs the routine, he needs it to fight the silence. Freedom’s silence. The silence of a man who has no more wars to fight but who still has rage boiling in his veins.

Pete’s hands are dry and blistered, dirt under his nails. Hard working man. No ammo in his pockets, but an evangelist flyer, because Pete Castiglione takes what’s handed to him as pretext to exist once again. 

He knows he could simply put on the vest and go back to the war zone. The prospect of it is even reassuring, but getting involved means painting a white skull once again, it means forgetting his new life and the pardon. 

It means seeing her again but for the wrong reasons. 

It means a lot of things that he can’t share to the veteran group. 

So instead, he takes out his two triangle sandwiches and unfolds the New York Bulletin, tries to forget what it meant to be Frank Castle.

But they come, one day, walking in the dust with their varnished shoes, long coat and white handkerchiefs covering their mouths. Three cardboard replicas. Their shark teeth shine when they smile, even more so when they hand him a card and Frank asks "You’re some fancy lawyer?"

They puff out their chest, suddenly reminded of the crown on their heads. "Our client wishes to discuss with you." 

Frank sneers, "Who’s that?"

"Wilson Fisk. You’re good friends, right?

Frank remembers an imposing man, wearing an orange jumpsuit. He remembers blood and shiv. He remembers getting out with two words from him, release him. 

Another man adds, "He is eager to working with you. Again."

"You owe him that." 

Fisk wants a guard dog that barks and bites at his will. "I ain’t interested." He simply answers, handing the card back. Frank knows there are many wars in New York, and he has enough rage to fight all of them, but he has fought other people’s battles too many times before. 

Kill your way to justice, he would tell him again. His justice. 

The man doesn’t take back the card and doesn’t lose his smile, "We will keep in touch" he says, before leaving the construction site. 

Frank grabs the newspaper again and bites into his sandwich. 

Frank’s hands are red and shaking. 

There are two bodies near the diner he goes to every Thursday, because they shouted his name, and threw fists and knives. Because of Frank’s hands around one man’s skull, smashing it against the wall. Because of the other aggressor’s own knife deep in his neck.

He’s holding the phone and scrolls down his short list of contact. 

K. 

Karen, I am leaving town for a while. Not business, or anything. Just don’t get into trouble, huh?

But he doesn’t even press the green button. 

Leave, for a little while, whatever he has in New York. Frank would rather do that than taking pleasure in the smell of blood over again. It’s easier to be revengeful than to be a free man, but that’s exactly what Fisk wants. And shit, he was starting to believe in this after she was talking about. 

He asks Micro to keep an eye on her, and checks if there are flowers on her windowsill. He grabs some bills, the last Bulletin and a gun, and leaves with a promise and worries embed in his head.

Frank drives for hours but can’t go any further. There are some ties, and he’s stretching them to their limits. He can’t afford being further away from New York. He stops at a shitty motel at the North Carolina state’s border, big squared building, pale yellow and blue, surrounded by trees. 

The owner is a nice man, who lets him stay for nothing if he plays handyman. The blood on his hands had disappeared and there are only smudges of black from fixing the plumbing. Frank changes the lightbulbs, fixes the AC and checks on the residents who are running away from some ghosts too. It keeps his mind out of things. 

The waitress at the diner near calls him by his name and winks when she serves him coffee. It tastes bad and the eggs are overcooked but Frank still eats there every morning religiously. She hands him warm food and the local newspaper. They don’t have the New York Bulletin here, there’s no reassuring Karen Page written in black letters. 

Amy, a runaway teen who stays in the motel, told him he could read the Bulletin on the internet, but Frank has never been good with machines. He only asks her about what shit Karen has been digging into this time, and she only answers in front of a plate of pancakes. 

"Who’s Karen Page anyway?" Amy asks one day, crossing her arms, with the confidence of a teen used to confronting adults.  

Frank turns his head to the window. He knows what she is not, Karen. She is not an enemy. She is not bad or evil, but he knows she’s not an angel. She is scars and troubles. She is questions and answers. "She’s a good friend." Frank only says, and it almost doesn’t sound like a lie. 

"Did you have sex with her?"

Sneering, Frank points at her plate full of pancakes and syrup, "Eat before it’s cold."

The way she smirks, he tries not to think too much about it, about how old his daughter would be today, if she would wear black nail polish, rings and bracelets like her. If she would try to push his buttons, with the typical teenager insolence. 

One day, Amy tells him what’s on the first page of the Bulletin, "Fisk is out. He’s helping the FBI, or something."

Frank is not surprised, Fisk is too big of a man for jail, he told him himself. "Did Karen write anything about that?"

Amy shakes her head. 

Frank keeps his gun near, always, waiting for more men to come banging at his door, ready to put the leash around his neck.

He learns it from Micro, one night, while he is sitting by the diner with a cup of coffee, looking at the imposing trees all around, not unlike the New York buildings. "There was an attack at the Bulletin," and Frank jumps off the bench, and starts pacing like a wild animal, his coffee spilled on the grass. 

He hears, before his ears start ringing, "Karen was there." Frank recognizes this feeling, it makes him clench his fists and jaw. It’s familiar. "She’s fine," Micro quickly adds, but it doesn’t stop the coldness, the panic spreading.

It’s more of a growl than words when he asks "What happened?"

"She went after Fisk."

Frank packs his bag hastily, taking with him only what is useful, and leaving for Amy some bills and an advice — this place ain’t your home, call your parents, go back to school — his phone number too. She brings her arm around him, whispers "Thank you." 

Frank pats her shoulder and says "Take care."

Frank Castle leaves North Carolina, perhaps Pete stays. 

He drives too fast but the journey back to New York is too long. Too long for Frank and his thoughts. 

All heart, Karen Page, a muscle no one can control.

Frank opens one eye and doesn’t move. There’s a cross on Fisk’s head and he’s ready to shoot. The angle is wrong, the bullet could very well go through his skull and touch Karen. So he’s waiting, for a move, for a hand raised. He curses Karen, who’s attracted to troubles like insects to a bug zapper. He curses Fisk, he curses any threat to Karen. 

Fisk is standing, but before Frank can put a bullet in his skull, men come in, stops him and brings Karen out. 

He could meet her, even call her. He would tell her to leave New York, to stay out of troubles, and remind her that if she doesn’t take care of herself, he’ll do it himself. If she knew he was here though, she would try to fix his problems before erasing the target she has painted on her forehead. She’s stubborn like that. 

Instead, Frank decides to keep his sniper rifle pointing at Fisk’s window, to stay close to the bug zapper. He asks Micro to keep him posted about Karen’s moves every hour, every half hour if he can.

Micro tries to make it sound better than it is, "She’s hiding, Frank."

"And you lost her." Frank growls.

"She was -" David tries to defend himself, "Must have learned some things from you."

It’s a diversion, but he learns it too late. Men, with knives, clenched fists and willpower. Petty criminals, confidence fattened by Fisk’s money. No heavy weapons, no strategy. Just to keep him away from the Church where Karen is, caged and chased like a mouse. 

He has to use his left arm to call Micro because there’s a knife deep in his upper right arm. 

"They think she escaped. But I am not sure she even got out."

"She could still be in the church ?" he asks, while holding tight to the knife, ready to pull it out. 

"I don’t know, yeah, it’s possible."

"I gotta get in."

"Frank, you can’t. You do that, and there’s no pardon. No more Pete."

There probably never was any Pete, he thinks. It all seems fake, superficial now, to try to get back to a normal life, when even his name is fake. "I don’t give a shit." 

Frank only sees a shadow of her. She’s being escorted by the NYPD and Frank doesn’t know if he should be reassured or not. 

"Shit," he mutters, pacing back and forth down the street by the church. He holds his wrist, it’s shaking, because if anything happens to her - 

Fisk knows he’s here, he most likely has someone looking after him. He still doesn’t get why he’s only sending some bullies. Fisk does what he did in jail, feeding the dogs until they bite. Maybe that’s what he wants from him. 

Frank takes his phone and scrolls down his list of contacts. It’s a simple K. 

He presses the green button this time. It’s her voice mail and it makes it easier for him to say, "Karen. I need to know if you’re ok. Stay safe, ok? Stay away from Fisk and from troubles. I’ll be around. Always."

Frank knocks on her door and immediately hides his hands in his pockets, as if there was blood on them still. In his pockets, a small knife, money, no brochures. Pete is gone.

He stayed away from Karen for too long, never too far, just enough. He was near the crowd of journalists when she made her declaration, near the shit hole Murdock brought her to. Never too far, even if it didn’t feel that way. 

He can’t explain what made him knock on her door. 

"Frank," she whispers, and she puts her arms around him. No matter if it is shame and blood embed in his hands, he still cradles her neck and holds her closer. 

It’s a long embrace, Frank closes his eyes, takes her in, alive. Karen steps back opens her door wider. All heart, Karen Page, a muscle he can’t control. 

Karen says the flowers from last time are dead, that she forgot to water them, that she still has the pot somewhere, and the mold is dry. "I didn’t hear from you" she says, handing him a bottle of beer "I wanted to put the flower out -" she adds but never finish her sentence. 

"A lot happened."

"Yeah." Karen sips on her beer and sits down on her couch. 

He sits beside her, carefully. He had been forced to watch her from afar for too long, too far for him to see if there was cuts or bruises on her face. He doesn’t find any. 

Karen bites her lips and shakes her head, she wants to say something but doesn’t dare to. "Kare - "

"Where were you?" Frank can’t tell what’s in her voice, if it’s reproach or worries, maybe a bit of both. 

"I was gone for a while." He doesn’t tell her why, though. "I came back as soon as I could." His mouth ticks as he says, "Wasn’t fast enough." He takes a sip of his beer, trying to swallow down his guilt, "I tried to keep you safe. I put on the vest, Karen."

"I didn’t want you to."

"I had Fisk. Could have shot him. But I didn’t want to —» To disappoint her, maybe. "I would do it again. Better." Frank admits easily, "I need to." He doesn’t tell her how good it felt to hold a sniper, to fight, taking his mind out of things. 

"Need what? To put on the vest? To be the Punisher?"

"No," he almost shouts, standing "I need to protect you, Karen. I can’t lose —"He’s cut off by his own treacherous mind, playing tricks on him, making him see images he doesn’t want to see. 

"I don’t want to be the reason for your actions, Frank."

"But you were. Working, the veteran group. Trying to be this normal guy. You were behind everything Karen." Frank looks at her, "Fighting loneliness, remember?"

Karen nods and finishes her beer. She passes a hand on her mouth, then eyes, now rimmed with red. He could have missed it, if he wasn’t so close, so focused. "I thought I needed you." Karen whispers. "I called my dad, and —"She stops, "I wanted to call you, but I was right not to."

"Why?"

"For what you said. The vest, the Punisher. I didn’t want you to go back to that. I didn’t want you to do it because of me." Karen stands up, takes two steps to the kitchen and puts her two hands on the counter.

"I should have been there, shit Karen, if anything had happened to you —"

"I am fine," she says, turning around and leaning against the counter, trying to give him a smile despite her eyes still red. "Nothing happened to me."

Hard headed woman who only lies about herself. That one is the biggest. Frank might not know everything about her, but she has the hard eyes of someone who fought many battles. She has always been virtuous but not guiltless. 

"Fisk tried to get you killed. I’m gonna find this shitty copy of Red, and make him regret ever going after you." She seems ready to scold him, with that way of hers, a frown and carefully chosen words, but he doesn’t let her, "That’s what I do. What I need to do. Protect people I care about, ok?"

Karen raises her hand and replies, "You’re so stubborn, Frank."

"Look who’s talking." 

Karen has a small smile, right there, then a long sigh. He has a lot of questions, why she went after Fisk and if that’s a hint of purple he can see on her cheekbone. He hopes they’ll have the time for that. 

"You know, I sometimes wished you killed him. Fisk. I wished I killed him." 

Frank frowns, clenches his jaw. Not because he believes she couldn’t, but because she could have. 

Karen adds, "Not my first rodeo, remember?"

So much left to unwrap about Karen Page — he hopes they’ll have the time for that. 

"By the way," she goes to her desk, puts her hair behind her ear and digs in the drawer. "I had to change my phone number."

She writes something down and hands him a post it with her new phone number. "Easier than flowers."

Frank promises he will call her. Another promise, just like the message she never got. 

He takes a step forward and takes her in his arms, "Take care, Karen. Stay out of trouble." Frank kisses her cheek, exactly where he thought he saw the bruise. 

He puts the post-it in his breast pocket, hides his hands in his pockets. 

Frank’s new life is unlike Pete’s. It’s picking his own battles — his name is Poindexter, Fisk’s dog; Billy, and nightmares. But it’s also beers and pizzas every Thursday, it’s lipstick stains on a coffee cup. 

[the-desolated-quill]

Let’s Kill Hitler - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Oh Christ, do I have to talk about this piece of shit?

I’ve made it no secret how much I despise Steven Moffat’s writing. His convoluted series arcs, his painfully obvious plot twists, his smarmy ‘too kool for skool’ dialogue that’s often dripping in pretentious bullshit, his one dimensional ‘quirky’ characters and his casual sexism. Even the few good stories he’s written have at least some of these problems. Let’s Kill Hitler is definitely one of the worst stories he’s ever written. Every problem I listed, Let’s Kill Hitler contains in excess. I HATE this episode with a passion. I usually watch these episodes twice before writing a review in order to properly analyse every detail. and that can be excruciating when it comes to other bad episodes. With Let’s Kill Hitler, it felt like my own personal torture. Halfway through my second viewing, I was about ready to jump through the TV screen and start throttling the characters to death.

After some bullshit involving crop circles and establishing that, after all this time looking for Melody Pond, the Doctor has achieved fuck all, we’re introduced to Mels.

Yes. Mels.

Well gee. Could she be Melody Pond? Nah! That would be ridiculous! Mels has a darker skin tone than Melody. It’s not as if she’s a Time Lord that could regenerate or anything... OH WAIT!

Oh God. Where do I start with Mels? What a smug, grating, unlikeable piece of work this is (also she’s the first woman of colour to appear in Leadworth and she’s a criminal. Lovely). I was about to say I can’t see how Amy could possibly stand to be around someone like Mels, let alone name her child after her, but then I remembered this is Amy we’re talking about here. She’s just as big of a bitch as Mels is. Just look at the way she treats Rory as they grew up. At this point I’m convinced Rory isn’t so much in love with Amy as he is feeling the effects of Stockholm Syndrome. So no. I have no problem buying Amy and Mels would be friends. They’re both utter bitches. I’m sure they got on like a house on fire.

You know, considering what close friends Mels and Amy supposedly were and how incredibly influential she apparently was in Amy’s life, it’s strange that this is the first time we’ve ever heard of her, which suggests that Moffat just pulled Mels out of the darkest depths of his arse in order to facilitate his shit plot. And as shit plots go, this is very shit. Worthlessly, pathetically, incontinently shit. Moffat has written some bad stories before, but this one simply takes the cake. NOTHING makes any sense whatsoever.

The Doctor and co crash-land in Berlin 1938 where they encounter the Teselecta. A robot controlled by miniaturised people who travel in time punishing historical criminals. Like with the Headless Monks in A Good Man Goes To War, the Teselecta isn’t an inherently bad idea. It could be potentially interesting. The problem is it barely gets a look in due to Moffat’s bullshit series arc. The story is really about Mels/River. The Teselecta, Hitler and Berlin are really little more than just a backdrop. This could have been set on a space station or in a Nandos and it would have been the same.

So Mels regenerates into River Song, at which point she’s labelled by the people in the Teselecta as ‘the woman who kills the Doctor’ and ‘the worst war criminal in history.’ Yes. River, who killed one man, is a worse criminal than Hitler, who facilitated the deaths of millions of people. Fuck you Moffat.

Okay there’s a lot to unpack here. I apologise if this review is coming across as a bit sloppy and all over the shop, but there’s just so many problems with Let’s Kill Hitler that its hard to know where to start.

Let’s start with the whole Time Lord thing. River can regenerate because she was conceived in the TARDIS. Well that’s bollocks. It’s like The Big Bang all over again. If a TARDIS can destroy the space/time continuum if it were to explode and can infect foetuses, why on Earth would the Time Lords have ever let one off the assembly line? The most popular excuse Moffat fans like to use is that the TARDIS is faulty. Um... yeah, because of its chameleon circuit. Not because it’s a radioactive deathtrap.

Also why would the Silence need to create a Time Lord to kill the Doctor? Think back to The Impossible Astronaut. The Doctor died from two gunshots. The first to start the regeneration process and the second to finish him off. You don’t need a Time Lord for that. Any old fucker with a gun would do.

Which brings me to the Silence’s motivations. So they take Amy’s kid and brainwash her into becoming an assassin (not a psychopath Moffat. Would it kill you to use Wikipedia?) by telling her all the crimes and evils in the universe the Doctor didn’t solve, thus proving what a bad man he really is.

I’m sorry, but even the village idiot could spot the flaws in that logic. The Doctor isn’t a God. He can’t be everywhere at once. And if he reversed every bad thing that ever happened in history, the space/time continuum would probably have more holes in it than a colander. Also, why is the Doctor the only sole person responsible for this? What about the fucking Teselecta? What about the Time Agency? What about your DIY TARDISes? The Doctor doesn’t hold a monopoly on time travel. If you want to fix history, why not do it yourself?

And then we get another bullshit mystery in the form of the Question. The first question ever to be asked. Hidden in plain sight...

......

NAH! Come on! Even by Moffat’s standards, that’s just too stupid.

Before I dive deeper into this cesspool of convoluted nonsense surrounding River Song, I suppose I should point out I’ve got nothing against Alex Kingston. I think she’s a great actor and has done some good stuff over the years. It’s not her fault that she’s been lumbered with such a shit character.

River is at her most annoying here. The smarmy, post regeneration dialogue is utterly cringeworthy and there’s just a sprinkling of casual misogyny thrown in for good measure, such as Mels saying she’s concentrating on a dress size just when she’s about to regenerate and River exclaiming she needs to weigh herself. And that’s not the worst of it. Everything River says has a flirtatious or sexual undertone to it, to the point where it becomes nauseating, there’s yet another scene where the Doctor has to ask Rory’s permission to hug Amy as though she’s an object rather than a person, the Captain of the Teselecta at one point makes a comment about the size of a female colleague’s arse, and then there’s this unforgivable line from the Doctor when Amy asks about River’s flip-flopping goals and motivations:

“She's been brainwashed, it makes sense to her. Plus, she is a woman.”

Moffat, seriously, go and fuck yourself! This isn’t remotely charming or funny. It’s just sexist as shit.

Matt Smith gets lumbered with shit too sadly. The Doctor gets poisoned by River’s lipstick (again, why do the Silence need a Time Lord for that? This makes no sodding sense), at which point he spends the majority of the episode flailing about on the floor like a prat. Not only is this horrible to watch due to Matt Smith’s god awful panto acting, there’s also no tension because we know he doesn’t die here. The death at the lake is a fixed point in time. He HAS to die there. So all this poison stuff just feels like a massive waste of time. In fact not even the fixed point in time stuff makes sense. If the Doctor’s death is a fixed point, why are the Silence bothering to kill him now with poison lipstick? And how do you create a fixed point in the first place? Who determines what’s fixed and what isn’t? I’ve always found the concept of a fixed point in time to have a slight whiff of bullshit about it, but this is just a whole compost heap of bullshit.

And how does the Doctor get out of this one? River gives up her remaining regenerations to bring him back to life. Because apparently she’s fallen in love with him.

Yeah! This isn’t a slow, gradual thing. She just suddenly changes her mind. She’s just sporadically in love with him now. Moffat doesn’t do anything to properly justify this change of heart, unless he's suggesting that the Doctor still caring for his companions on his deathbed was enough to make River’s heart flutter, which it isn’t. Maybe Mels had a crush on the Doctor growing up, but that’s bullshit too. Imagine if Mels was brainwashed to kill Hitler. All her life she’s been fed all the reasons why Hitler is evil and deserves to die. Would it be likely that she would fall in love with Hitler? Of course not! It’s the same principle with the Doctor. if she’s been brainwashed to kill him, it’s unlikely she would have any positive feelings for him whatsoever. So I’m not buying any of this.

But the biggest problem of all is the lack of characterisation and empathy. River Song isn’t a character. She’s a plot device. We never fully explore how she feels about the Doctor and she’s never written consistently. Her thoughts and motivations change depending on what the plot requires. River needs to save the Doctor now, so she just does. And in Moffat’s rush to connect all the dots in his bullshit series arc, he forgets quite possibly the most important characters in this story:

YEAH! Amy and Rory! You know? RIVER SONG’S PARENTS!

Over the course of this two parter, Amy and Rory discover a secret pregnancy, have the baby, lose the baby, realise the baby is both River Song and their best friend Mels due to convoluted time travel stuff, learn that their daughter is the one that kills the Doctor and they ultimately lose out on parenting their own child. That’s some pretty heavy stuff. Pity none of this is ever explored. In fact the one time this is touched upon, Moffat actually plays it up for laughs. What the fuck is wrong with you, you incompetent prick?

And then, just to rub salt into the wound, there’s this really weird line where Mels says it all worked out in the end because Amy and Rory got to raise her during the course of their childhoods, which is just prime Moffat idiocy right there. There’s this huge emotional tragedy taking place here, but Moffat appears to be the only one who hasn’t noticed. His attention is in all the wrong places, focusing on the mechanics of his convoluted arc rather than exploring what the characters are thinking and feeling. I suppose you could argue that exploring these kinds of themes might be too heavy for a family show, but if that’s the case, why is Moffat introducing the topic in the first place?

Like I said at the beginning, I’ve never liked Steven Moffat’s writing very much, but Let’s Kill Hitler was the point where I went from not liking Moffat to hating Moffat. This is easily one of the worst episodes he’s ever written and indeed one of the worst episodes in all of Doctor Who. Whereas A Good Man Goes To War was annoyingly stupid, Let’s Kill Hitler was insultingly stupid. It’s ill conceived, poorly written, utterly misogynistic and completely tone deaf. Fuck this episode and fuck you Moffat.

[jedtheguy]

Are you religious?

In a word: yes.

In 1500 words:

My family is Mennonite. If you don’t know what that is (not a lot of peopledo, I’ve found), it’s one of the many Christian denominations. I imagine you’reaware of the split between the Roman Catholic Church and the Protestants(especially if you live in a country where there’s still bad blood between thetwo). Well, the Mennonites are part of the Anabaptists who split off from bothof them in the 16th century and are named after Menno Simons, who was oneof the early leaders. The Anabaptists believed that church membership should bevoluntary, not required, and that people should be baptized when they choose tobe a part of the church instead of at infancy. There was a lot of persecutionand the early Anabaptists fled rather than fought back.

A lot of Mennonite history is them settling somewhere, farming for a while,then picking up and moving to another country when war is looming to start thecycle all over again. Some eventually came to North America while others wentto South America; I know there’s a definite Mennonite presence inParaguay.  Most of my ancestors, however,ended up in the prairies of Canada and the U.S. and—big surprise—startedfarming.

There are some Old Order Mennonites that live in a very simple manner,similar to the Amish. I’ve never met them.  All the Mennonites I know lookthe same as pretty much everyone else.  There’s a big focus in theMennonite church on peace and pacifism, and the importance of service toothers.  And there’s an undercurrent ofhumility and modesty, which I think still links us to our Old Order cousins.

I know that these days, there’s a big push in society against organizedreligion and towards science and atheism.  And don’t get me wrong, I amall for science and evidence-based reasoning; they’re extremely importantdisciplines that I believe should be taught to everyone.  I graduateduniversity with a Bachelor’s of Science, majoring in physics.

“But J.D., how can you believe in God/Jesus and science at the same time?Aren’t they mutually exclusive?”

Well, I can’t say it’s an easy path to walk, but I don’t think they’remutually exclusive.  Mayim Bialik (Amy Farrah Fowler of The Big BangTheory) recently posted a videoon this exact subject which I found to be both interesting and very relatable.I find that the more we learn and discover scientifically, the less we realizewe actually know.

Take gravity, for example. We know it exists and its effects are measurable.We have developed equations that predict how gravity affects planets orbiting astar and how it shapes space-time.  But as far as I know, we have yet toobserve what gravity actually is.  Is due to as-yet-undetected particlesdubbed “gravitons?” Is it due to theoretical gravitational waves? Somethingelse entirely?

So as far as I’m concerned, wherever we have gaps in our knowledge, that’swhere God is.

I have met people who are scientifically-minded and also Christians.  One was my high school physics teacher whohad a distinctly Mennonite last name and my parents actually went to the samechurch as him back in the day.  Another wasa physics professor from the University of British Columbia whom I crossedpaths with once.  We had an interestingtalk about how science and faith aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive.

I would like to point out that while I have read the Bible, I do not feelcompelled to take absolutely everything literally. For example: I am nota Young Earth Creationist; I fully believe the Earth is 4.5 billion years oldand not close to ten thousand, and I think the story of creation in Genesis isallegorical and does not constitute a literal 7-day week. Nor have I everpictured God as some old bearded man in the sky (not that God was everdescribed that way in the Bible, but it does seem to be a popular image).

Actually, I consider that “being made in the image of God” doesn’tnecessarily mean how we look physically, but something more intangible: oursoul / consciousness / spirit / mind / however you want to define it.  We have self-awareness and free will.  To my understanding, no other creature onEarth has that; we are unique on this planet and possibly in the universe.  (Although I do kind of hope that aliens areout there; I do love my sci-fi.  But alienlife does open up whole other cans of worms in regards to all this.)

I don’t pretend to have all the answers either. I struggle with trying tounderstand the violence ordered by God in the Old Testament vs. Jesus’ ministryof peace and reconciliation in the New Testament. I’m mortified at the sheernumber of horrible things that have been done in the name of religion, because“God said so” (especially by people who call themselves Christians).

I’ve always been taught that to be a Christian is to show love and mercy toother people. Even in the Bible, Jesus said the most important commandmentswere to love God and to love your neighbor as yourself, and all the other lawsstemmed from these. If you truly loved the other person the same way you lovedyourself, you wouldn’t steal from them, murder them, or burn their house down,would you?  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m far from perfect atshowing love to absolutely everyone, but I do try.

Organized religion is a very powerful thing, but not without its problems.And I think there needs to be a distinct separation between church and state.The history of the church is fraught with scandals and questionablepractices.  Even today, I’m very wary of mega-churchesand televangelists and the image of Christianity that they project towardsnon-Christians.  John Oliver had a veryinteresting segment on the subject once. Having a place of worship that’s clean and maintained is fine, butoutright promising that God will reward you for giving money to the church isworrisome at best and outright wrong if the money seems to be going to lavishhomes and expenses of the pastor.

Many staunchly conservative folks, especially in the UnitedStates, identify as Christians.  It’sprobably fair to say that a lot of American politicians fit into this category (althoughI suspect some claim it more to satisfy their constituents than out of anypersonal convictions).  Yet Jesus—whomChristians are ostensibly trying to embody—spent his time healing the sick,feeding the hungry, helping the poor and the downtrodden, and being a man ofpeace… whereas these days I see a woefully insufficient healthcare system, awidening wealth gap fostering homelessness and unemployment, and absurd amountsof money being poured into war and military funding while infrastructurecrumbles and education lags.

(I realize it sounds like I’m picking on the U.S.  I’m really not trying to.  Canada has a lot of these same problems too,as do many other countries.  But America oftenfeatures in the news all over the world and most people can readily recognizethe country and its current issues. Plus, there are many of its citizens who would claim that it’s a Christiannation, which ties in with what I’m saying here.)

What I’m getting at is that there can be a big disparitybetween how Christians are called to act and how some Christians actuallydo.  Religion can be a strong force, andit has been used for both good and ill and for justifying people’s actions sixways from Sunday.  There are good moralsand guidelines to be found in the Bible, I promise!  I won’t claim it’s the only way to be a moraland upright human, but it has worked for me so far.  I’d be willing to bet that most people whoknow me personally would say that I’m an upstanding young man who treats otherpeople with respect.  And I would say alarge part of that is due to my upbringing in the Mennonite church.  

Having said all of this, I may lose followers.  I may gain some too.  I might even receive some hateful anonymousmessages, although I’d really rather not. Tumblr is hard to predict that way. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter.  Aswith everyone else, I live according to what I feel is right.  I do my personal best to be an accepting,compassionate, kind, and loving human being by following Jesus’ example. If Ithen go to heaven after I die, fantastic! If it turns out there is no afterlife and we simply blink out of existenceafter we pass away, then I’ve done what I can to make the world a little betterwhile I was here.  And I haven’t lostanything for it.  

Being a Christian isn’t always easy.  I try to do good (and to do well).  I don’t always succeed.  But I learn a little more every day.  

[netflixnfeminism-blog]

Badass Characters: Volume I

In honor of International Women’s Day 2017, let’s talk about our female representation through popular movies and television shows - one’s that we like. The most popular television shows on right now consist of the Big Bang Theory, Supernatural, Criminal Minds, SVU, etc. Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz has a PhD and quite the lucrative job at a pharmaceutical company while appearing to be quite soft and feminine, a contrast you don’t find often represented. You can be feminine as fuck and educated as fuck and rich as fuck. But what feminist isn’t at least a little disappointed that the androcentric writers of the Big Bang Theory has her married to Howard - who consistently harassed women, made sexist jokes and is a firm representation of benevolent sexism. Amy Farrah Fowler is a neurobiologist obsessed with Sheldon loving her and Penny’s main character attribute is “ditzy”. Supernatural has like, zero, women, except for Satan’s mom and God’s sister, Criminal Minds has Derek Morgan whose “talk to me, baby girl” makes me cringe. And then there’s SVU, which tries so hard to represent all political viewpoints that it gives you whiplash - and for a show that is mainly about rape victims, it doesn’t always feel that feminist.

Although there’s a lot wrong - there’s still some good. Hence, the beginning of the new series I’m doing (probably - if I remember to keep posting these) highlighting some cool as fuck characters that deserve to be appreciated and have their character development applauded. Without further ado: Badass Characters Volume I

No. 1: Leslie Knope //  Parks & Recreation (2009-2015) // “You know my code, hoes before bros. Uteruses before duderuses. Ovaries before Brovaries”

Parks & Recreation was pretty cool for several reasons: 1) it affirmed to the audience that local government is truly accessible; if those weirdos in Pawnee could state their peace, so can you. 2) guised as a mockumentary and comedy, the show highlighted sectors of government, using its platform of comedy to educate its audience about their own government and political process. 3) Leslie. Knope. 

Amy Poehler plays Leslie Knope, a devoted gal pal, a declared feminist, a hard worker, a woman who literally, like, LOVES waffles. She spends a lot of conscious effort disbanding the “boy’s club” of politics, she never lets a remark about “a woman’s place” and gender roles go unrefuted. Leslie Knope uses sarcasm to call people out on their privilege, sneaks out of the hospital when incredibly ill to attend a meeting and redefines the adjective “hard working”. Perhaps a line that is so easily drawn and disappointing with female characters that are presented as feminist is that they seem unsupportive of women who do embrace traditional roles - a group of women that Leslie also continuously protects. She calls Men’s Rights Activism “ridiculous” and “nothing” and takes criticism of her feminism well - as evident of her leadership of the Pawnee Goddesses when she corrected herself in not allowing young boys to join her wilderness group of Pawnee girls. 

Although Parks and Recreation is presented as silly - important issues are addressed through the medium of Leslie as she battles sexism in politics, having to dodge questions about her appearance while campaigning. Classism and obesity are battles that are fought through comedy, with Leslie Knope and group of lovely gal pals. Plus Galentines Day is the best. 

No. 2: Olive Penderghast // Easy A (2010) // “Yes. Yes, I am a big, fat, slut”

Easy A is easily classified with Mean Girls & The Duff to be a fairly fun commentary on being a teenage girl. What makes this heroine pretty badass is her shamelessly embracing female sexuality, standing up for the right for a girl to do whatever the fuck she wants with her body while embracing such a wit, intelligence, integrity and maturity. Olive Penderghast is strong and independent. A lot of Hollywood depictions of high school kids tend to ignore that they are, indeed, children and that not everyone is having sex with each other all the time. That’s what makes Olive unique in the teenage girl movie world - she’s a virgin. Olive spends weekends alone singing pop songs that she would publicly shame (her hypocrisy is another quality that makes her pretty cool and well developed, I think) and although she stands up against the notion that everyone’s judging each other all the time - she kind of is judging people all the time. Rhiannon’s parents are too hippy, Marianne is too Christian and Micah’s kinda dumb. 

The fact that Olive embraces judgement and stands up against slut shaming in her Ojai Valley high school without hesitation regardless of whether or not people were accurately representing her remains to be brave. She decides to exploit her reputation for profit to prove to the school that she couldn’t care less about their antiquated opinions on sexuality. Olive proudly displays an A on her clothing in allusion to the Scarlet Letter. 

Olive proves to be selfless, sacrificing her reputation for a greater cause and even to save a teacher’s job. She’s opinionated, she likes to study and learn, is independent and sweet; she corrupts the smart/attractive binary by spouting relevant facts and literary terms while being tirelessly courted. Olive both understands and loves herself - but also feels the pressure to hide her unconventional traits, and encourages others to do the same. Olive isn’t perfect at all - but who actually is? 

It’s part of what makes her so bad ass. 

No. 3: Tiana // Princess & The Frog (2009) // “It serves me right for wishing on stars. The ONLY way to get what you want is hard work.”

The most important in this edition of Badass Characters, in my humble opinion is Tiana’s role as a Disney princess. The main character attributes of Tiana are her ambition, determination and hard work. No one is going to prevent Tiana from owning her own restaurant or from pursuing her dream of being a professional chef; “fairytales don’t come true, you have to make them happen”. The idea of dating and dancing is declared trivial to Tiana; why let anything get in the way of owning Tiana’s Place? AND - an even bigger bonus - she was actually written by a person of color. 

Her persistence and frame of mind highlights the difficulties of coming from a poor and primarily black community in New Orleans, Louisiana. Tiana is intelligent and independent in a climate that deems her none of those things at all; she’s denied the opportunity to own her own restaurant after being told “a little woman of your background couldn’t handle it”.Tiana’s clever, capable and caring. As a workaholic, she’s put through trials and eventually turns to the wishing star. She later regrets this act, narrating to herself that her dream will only surface as reality through hard work; not depending on a frog/prince/arrogant as all hell man. 

There are problems with the movie as a whole, as Tiana’s life wishes are answered when sent a man and the movie depicts voodoo as an evil (among many others). but I find Tiana to be extremely refreshing. 

Young girls are looking up to a determined woman of color - learning that they can do anything they want to if they work hard enough. And in a political climate like ours today, it’s important to be reminded that things will only change with our persistence; with our ambition, determination, and devotion. Tiana teaches us nothing should get in the way of our goal; that we are independent and intelligent, caring and super fucking funny.

[gossipnetwork-blog]

'The Big Bang Theory' Season 11 Episode 12 Recap: Amy Chooses Her Maid of Honor

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'The Big Bang Theory' Season 11 Episode 12 Recap: Amy Chooses Her Maid of Honor

If you’re hanging on to every detail that Sheldon and Amy make in advance of their wedding, then tonight’s episode of The Big Bang Theory was the most monumental since their engagement. Although it often feels like Shamy takes one step forward and two steps back, it seems—for now—that their choices for best man/maid of honor are set in stone. The winners? Penny and Leonard Hofstadter. The only problem? Amy made the wrong choice.

I get that this is a show—and Amy and Sheldon’s decision was interesting enough material for 22 minutes—but the future Mrs. Fowler-Cooper has two best friends in her life. So why did the episode have to become about choosing one over the other? Bernadette, who even campaigned for the honor, was left in the dust, presumably to play the role of bridesmaid. But the easy choice—and the only choice, really—should have been to just have two maid of honors.

I’ve never planned a wedding, but “The Matrimonial Matric” particularly hit home for me. When my best friend got married, she—like Amy—had two best friends in her life. I was probably the closer friend—especially in her adult years—but she ended up choosing the other woman as maid of honor, basically because they had been friends since kindergarten. It didn’t matter that she and I had shared so much of our lives together—including living together—or that my parents treated her like another daughter. Instead, I was asked to be bridesmaid. Spoiler: it sucked. By declaring one of us a little more important than the other—even if my best friend didn’t see it that way—was a harsh reality that affected me more than I wanted to admit. And to top it off, the maid of honor used every opportunity to make it clear to me that she had a higher position. So you can see why I declared back then to never have a maid of honor in my own wedding one day.

PHOTO: Sonja Flemming/CBS

While I don’t usually subscribe to the “everyone gets a trophy!” sentiment, choosing only one maid of honor if there’s two or three equally deserving people is an outdated practice that rarely results in a good outcome. In this era of be kind, love one another, and support other women, it forces you to think about what those sentiments really mean. The Big Bang Theory had a great opportunity to bring all three women together on Amy’s big day. Instead, they turned it into a ridiculous competition. Bernadette should consider herself lucky that she doesn’t have to deal with the Fowler/Cooper antics.

There was one winning moment, though, and it came courtesy of Mayim Bialik’s hilarious reaction to Penny telling Amy that she’s her best friend, too. That bit of perfection almost made up for Amy’s choice. Almost.

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