#but up at school we’re not allowed any sort of cooking equipment

[roetrolls]

the Sisyphean task of eating ur vegetables

[thanksjro]

Bayverse: Treating These Movies with More Dignity than They Deserve or Contain, Because I’m a Goddamned Professional - Part One

TRANSFORMERS (2007) - UNCOMFORTABLE SEXUAL TENSION BETWEEN TEENAGERS THAT I DIDN’T NEED TO SEE

So.

This is a little different than what I usually do.

Clearly.

God, how did we even get here?

Oh, I remember.

The date was September 17th, 2020, and I was in a stream with nine or ten other people watching the first Bayverse Transformers movie. Why we were watching it doesn’t particularly matter- sometimes you just gotta watch garbage so you can refresh your palate for the good stuff, I suppose. Also, a couple of folks wanted to make goo-goo eyes at Blackout’s rotors.

...It’s not my thing, but I’m glad they’ve got something to make the journey worth taking.

I made some sort of comment about only using my brain for this blog’s content, and someone (you know who you are :)) suggested that I take a proper look at the film. Being who I am, I immediately latched onto this idea, despite it being technically outside of what I write about.

And then I quintuple-downed, because winners don’t quit.

Good to know that my BA in Film Production wasn’t a complete waste of time.

Fun fact, I broke my television trying to watch Transformers for this. I think the universe was trying to stop me, by making me perform surgery on electronics, and also aggravating my carpal tunnel.

This movie came out when I was 13, and it was the first Transformers thing I saw after Cybertron. Yes, the anime one. No, not the one that’s objectively terrible.

Anyway.

How did I feel about Transformers when I saw it the first time? Well… it was okay. I liked the robots. I thought Mikaela was pretty, not that I knew what that meant back then. I watched it a few times, if only because my oldest younger brother kept renting it at Blockbuster. It was fun.

Now I’m older, and wiser, and know feminist theory, so my opinion is less “this exists” and more “blind, murderous rage”.

Our film opens up with some claptrap about the Cube™, a MacGuffin of ultimate power that allows the Transformers to create worlds in their image and populate them. Which means this is how they reproduce.

It always comes back to baby-making, doesn’t it?

The narration goes on about how the Cube™ is very powerful, and some folks wanted it for good, and others for evil. The criteria for being “good” and “evil” isn’t established, and I’m not exactly sure how one would define such a thing, when all the Cube™ does is create life, but, well, we’ve only just begun. Maybe we’ll get some answers later on.

Haha, I doubt it.

So, the Cube™ is the catalyst for our 4 million year war this continuity, and that sucker was lost in the shuffle a while back. This is a problem, because, again, the Cube™ is how the Transformers reproduce. Now everyone’s in a mad scramble to find the thing so their species doesn’t die out.

Three guesses as to where it ended up, and the first two don’t count.

Smashcut to the shit nobody cares about- the humans. We see an Osprey fly over the Qatar desert, carrying a buttload of American soldiers. We get a taste of some good old-fashioned xenophobia, as several soldiers mock a guy for not speaking English and loving his mother’s cooking, going full “funny haha gibberish language” on him. We’re two and a half minutes into the film, and I already want to stab something.

Ed Sheeran breaks into the conversation, I guess because he was feeling left out, revealing that he is the New Yorker stereotype of the film, for some reason. The fellas ask their captain, Lennox, what he’s looking forward to most about getting home from their tour, and he reveals himself to be a family man. While he’s been away, his wife had a baby, who he hasn’t so much as held yet. His men respond by mocking him.

For loving his child.

We’re three minutes into the film, and the toxic masculinity might actually make me have an aneurysm.

The Ospreys land, the lads disembark, and we get a snapshot of what downtime during deployment looks like to Bay. There are a lot of kiddie swimming pools involved. Two men play basketball. We watch multiple men take outdoor showers. A young Qatari boy brings Lennox a camelback water pack with a smile on his face. This lets me know that he’s a prop and not a character in this film. I can’t wait to see how many horrors he’ll be put through to simulate pathos.

We get a shot of a helicopter flying over the desert, one that the US military doesn’t recognize as their own. They send a couple of planes to check it out, and said planes get their shop wrecked. The helicopter is revealed to be the same ‘copter that was shot down several months prior. That’s… not good. Ghost helicopter?

No. Not at all, actually.

Lennox gets on a video chat with his wife and daughter, who is wearing one of the most ridiculous baby outfits I’ve seen in a hot minute. And I used to work in childcare, so I’ve seen a good amount of those. The writing implies that normal bodily functions are unladylike and therefore undesirable… in an infant… and that’s when all hell breaks loose, thankfully saving me from more of Bay trying to make me give a shit about these characters.

The helicopter lands, we get a shot of the mustachioed pilot, who glitches (gasp), and the line “have your crew step out or we will kill you” is uttered. Not even trying to hide the nationalism, are you?

This film hit theaters in 2007, when the xenophobia from 9/11 was still heavy in the air of the general populace, so things like this were more tolerated, and in fact approved of. Of course, it’s not like America has really improved on that subject, or ever really had a point where we weren’t terrible about it, since we live in a world where the military-entertainment complex exists.

See, the Department of Defense and a good chunk of American entertainment industries have a little deal going, and have for the last few decades, and it goes like this: The DoD will allow the use of their vehicles, personnel, and bases, or the likenesses of such, for free, in exchange for their operations being shown in a positive/morally justified light. This is why you never see the armed forces portrayed in a way that makes them out as anything less than heroes- nobody would be able to afford the sets/likenesses without the DoD’s aid. This is also why you see straight-up advertisements for the military branches on televison, in cinemas, and online, and why both the Army and Navy have flirted with having Twitch channels.

It’s all a ploy to get you to join the military, kids. It’s propaganda.

But enough about that, it’s time for our first transformation sequence!

We get a lot of moving parts with this, since it’s realistic CGI in a live-action movie, and it still holds up. It’s hard to tell what’s actually happening, but it, if nothing else, feels alien, surreal, and horrific to behold. They even included the original sound effect in the cacophony, which is nice.

Our ghost helicopter reveals itself to be a Transformer, not that we get that terminology at any point in this film. This specifically is Blackout, a Decepticon. The soldiers start firing on him the moment he starts transforming, then are surprised when the thing they started shooting with several guns retaliates. This is the point where everything ever in this military base explodes, brilliantly and repeatedly, because it wouldn’t be a Bay film without it. There’s a lot of shouting and bright lights, and I’m positively certain that a great deal of people died during this fight.

It’s just a shame that I don’t care.

Blackout rips the top off of a building like it’s a tin of anchovies, and then snags all the hard drives he can, downloading everything. This is a problem, but it seems like nobody was prepared for a giant alien robot hack-attack, because in order to shut down the power to the servers, you need to be able to unlock the breaker box, and no one seems to have the key. They solve the problem with a fire ax.

Lennox is leading the Qatari boy through the base towards safety. I should mention that it’s night now, and several hours seem to have passed since the Ospreys landed, so I don’t know why this kid is still here. He’s got, like, a house and family to go home to.

We get some more tank-throwing action, Sergeant Epps almost gets flattened under Blackout’s foot, then the movie decides it’s going to try to make things more interesting by having each shot cut flash, for whatever reason.

Someone shoots Blackout with a rocket launcher, I think, and this is the point where he throws his tiny little man off his back to go do his job. Yes, Blackout’s got a baby, and that baby is Scorponok, his symbiotic pal who likes to dig into the ground and be a sneaky little bastard.

Blackout blows up a ton more military equipment and personnel, and then it’s time for another smashcut.

Now we’re in high school, just like all those dreams I’ve had where I’ve forgotten my homework. This is where we meet Sam Witwicky, our main character, and also the stand-in for our target demographic. He’s insufferable, and I don’t like him. Mikaela Banes, our love interest, is also present in this scene, but we don’t get to know about her character for, like, another 20 minutes, because who gives a shit about women, right? They’re just props, right?

Right???

RIGHT??????????

RIGH-

Sam is presenting on his great-great-grandfather, Archibald Witwicky, for his family genealogy report, in front of a class containing maybe three actors who are age appropriate.

I know child labor laws are a good thing, and that hiring adults to play teenagers is just the lay of the land, but I swear some of these students look like they’re old enough to be on their second mortgage and third kid.

Anyway.

Archibald Witwicky was an explorer, one of the first to traverse the Arctic circle, and apparently his crew was made up of folks from 2007, because I swear the clothing for a few of these dudes isn’t period-appropriate. We get a seamen joke, because of course we do, and a sextant joke, because of course we do. Sam is also hawking all this crap he’s brought in for the presentation, because he is a little bastard who has no idea what his peers would want to buy, or really how to relate to them at all. He’s selling these “priceless” artifacts so he can get a car. Mikaela finds this charming, for some fucking reason. Also, her boyfriend is weirdly stroking her shoulder blade with his knuckles the whole time this is happening, and I hate it.

Archibald Witwicky went mad after his expedition, talking about an “ice man” so often that his family ended up locking him in a mental asylum, likely to be forgotten about. Which is sad. But we won’t be getting into the medical mistreatment of the mentally ill in Bayverse, now will we? That’s just Too Deep™.

Sam’s teacher didn’t very much appreciate having his class be turned into an episode of Antiques Roadshow, but still gives Sam an “A” on the project, despite it being a very poor report that lasted all of two minutes. I suspect the teacher has tenure, and therefore no longer gives a shit about academic integrity. This “A” means that Sam’s father will buy him a car.

Which is nice, I suppose, if I gave a damn.

Sam’s father, Ron, picks up his son in a car he probably bought at the crux of his midlife crisis, in a green that reminds me of a school gymnasium floor, then plays a prank on his child by pretending to pull into the Porsche dealership. Sam isn’t getting a Porsche, which is good, because he doesn’t deserve one. As Sam gripes to his father, a yellow Camaro drives by oh so conspicuously. Wonder what’s up with that.

Instead of the Porshe dealership, they head over to the used car lot, which is being run by Bobby Bolivia, who spends his time yelling at his employees and wanting to murder his mother. Sam is incredibly ungrateful about the fact that his dad is helping him get a car, even though it’s his FIRST car, and nobody gets a nice one the first go around. Or, at least, they shouldn’t, given the statistics about accidents with young drivers.

“No sacrifice, no victory” is uttered by Ron, which is the family motto, or so he claims. Archibald Witwicky said the same thing when he had multiple people dying trying to get to the Arctic Circle, so there’s precedence for the phrase, but we’ll see how it holds up throughout the film.

Bobby Bolivia shows Sam and Ron the cars he has for sale, and Sam is immediately drawn to the yellow Camaro in the lot, though there’s a small problem- it’s too expensive for what he and his father agreed to. Also, nobody knows where the hell it came from, so paperwork might be an issue. When Bobby tries to show Sam the yellow Beetle they have right down the line, everything explodes, because this is a Bay film, and fuck the original material this movie was based on. Bobby lets them have the Camaro for a lower price, suddenly fearful of whatever strange powers have just visited his place of business. “The car picks the driver” is suddenly more than a bullshit line to spout off in order to sell cars, and I’m certain that’s shaken the poor man.

Over in Washington, D.C., the Secretary of Defense prepares to address just what the hell happened in Qatar, lamenting on how young the audience he’s going to be speaking to is. In particular, he’s referring to the two dweebs and the hot chick sitting in one of the rows. All the women in this movie who aren’t someone’s mom are made up to be very pretty. And not even in a realistic way. But we’ll get to that in a bit.

So, the military network was hacked. That’s bad. Nobody knows who did it. That’s also bad. The only lead the US has is a soundbite, which is the signal that hacked the network.

Everyone here at the briefing is going to be helping to figure this mess out. This is great, if you like looking at Rachael Taylor for a few seconds at a time, and can compartmentalize hard enough to make that worth the effort of watching this godforsaken film.

Back at the Witwicky household, we meet Mojo, a chihuahua with a cast that doesn’t seem like it’s actually doing anything. I wish he was the main character instead of Sam.

Sam arrives home from the dealership, and says “alright, Mojo, I’ve got the car. Now I need the girl.”

As if ownership of a person is something to aspire to.

As if women are property to be owned.

As if women aren’t people, but rather commodities.

We’re 17.5 minutes into this film.

We’re introduced to Judy, Sam’s mother. She’s shrill, and annoying. This is by design, because none of the women in this film are actually people, but rather archetypes to bounce off of the male characters.

Sam and his father have a moment of what some might consider banter, then Sam gets huffy with his mom over gender roles for the dog. I, for one, think Mojo looks positively dashing in his bedazzled collar, and to hell with whatever Sam says to the contrary.

Sam drives off to go be a misogynist, with the promise to be back by 11PM.

Over in Qatar, the soldiers and that little boy are running from the attack on their base, as Lennox’s wife watches a public announcement on the matter back at home. The Secretary of Defense lets us know that we’re at DEFCON Delta at this point. Lennox Jr. cries, and all I can think about is how they probably pinched that baby to make that happen. They pinched a baby for Transformers (2007).

The soldiers in Qatar talk about shit they have no idea about, Sergeant Epps going on about somehow having been able to see a forcefield around Blackout through his super special binoculars. I don’t know how, or why, he knows this. I don’t know anything anymore.

Ed Sheeran has his doubts about this whole thing, and Lennox is also present in the scene, because I guess he’s important. Through a bit of dramatic irony, Fig- the guy everyone was making fun of for being bilingual at the start of the film- says that this probably isn’t over, as the shape of Scorponok shifts through the sand just beyond them.

Epps is having a minor crisis over the fact that Blackout saw him, but we don’t have time for that, because we’ve got to get to cover. The lads decide to head to the little Qatari boy’s house. Again, I wonder why he was at the base at all, considering that it seems like they’ve been traveling for a good portion of the day.

Back with Sam, he’s picked up his friend Miles, and together they’re going to a lake party. Are they invited to this party? Yes, but also no. It’s public property though, so it should be fine. As they park, Sam notices that Mikaela is here, which is great for him.

Mikaela’s boyfriend, Trent- whose name I had to look up- is a massive tool, and starts pestering the two boys for daring to exist in his airspace. Miles climbs a tree. I’m glad he’s having fun, at least. Sam makes a joke at the expense of people with brain injuries, and this for some reason? Warrants a shot of Mikaela making the blank “pretty girl” face? In response?

Mikaela saves Sam from becoming a wet stain on the grass, which is very kind of her, and more than Sam really deserves. Trent, his boys, and Mikaela start to head off for another party, to get away from Sam and his tree-loving friend. Mikaela offers to drive, and Trent says that she can’t handle his truck, because she’s a ~girl~. This causes Mikaela to ditch him, and start walking home.

The script knows enough about misogyny to know that this would be a nice “take that”. Michael Bay, however, likely fails to see why everything he did with said script involving this character is a goddamned problem.

Because Mikaela, bless her heart, has a lot of problems.

Let’s start with the outfit: a croptop, a jean skirt that BARELY covers her ass, and a pair of wedge heels that are at least four inches tall. On a character that is, at oldest, freshly 18.

Look, I’m all about self-expression and the freedom to choose how you dress for yourself and yourself alone, but this clearly isn’t that. This is a character, not a person, whose wardrobe was designed for the straight male gaze. She’s wearing fucking STRAP HEELS to the lake. This is about oogling. This is about reducing a whole-ass person to the same status as a piece of meat. In fact, who was on wardrobe for this? I’d like to have a few words with-

A woman? Okay, well, what else has she worked on?

You can’t be fucking serious.

ANYWAY.

Miles just called Mikaela an “evil jock concubine.” I don’t like Miles anymore.

As Mikaela walks down the road, strutting hard enough that I’ve got sympathy pains in my hips, the radio in the Camaro turns on, playing “Drive” by the Cars, and giving Sam a hell of an idea; he’s gonna drive Mikaela home, so she doesn’t have to walk the 10 miles to her house. Why he knows how far she lives from the lake isn’t addressed.

Sam kicks Miles out of the car and goes to give Mikaela a ride, which she accepts after a bit of self-deliberation, and also him making an ass of himself. The shot here is framed with Sam like he’s a normal-ass person, and Mikaela from her breasts to the top of her waist. Because of COURSE it is.

She hops in the car and then goes off about her taste in hot guys. Which is weird, and out of left field. Sam is about as confused as I am, then continues to make a fool of himself. This is his nature as a person. Mikaela has no idea who Sam is, even though they’ve gone to the same school for the last 10 years and have multiple classes together. And the fact that she was staring him down all through his genealogy presentation. And at the lake.

This movie isn’t very well thought out, I feel.

It’s at this point the the Camaro turns the key on itself and starts to sputter out and die, as “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye pops on the radio.

I don’t like how this car is trying to get Sam laid.

I don’t like how this car is trying to get Sam laid with a girl who didn’t even know his name five minutes ago.

I don’t like how this car knows what sex is.

The Camaro breaks down on a cliff, and Mikaela hops out to work on the engine, and also to get the hell away from Sam’s sputtering.

As Mikaela admires the sweet engine in this Camaro, showing off her knowledge of cars, we get several shots of her from her breasts to her thighs, while Sam is treated like an actual person. Don’t bother trying to play it off as an artistic choice, Bay, this is blatant horndogging. This adds to NOTHING, other than my ire.

Sam says more stupid shit, and Mikaela, who must be the nicest fucking person in the world, just tells him to fire up the engine so she can try to sort out the problem. Then he asks why she goes for jackasses like Trent, and she decides that she’s hit her limit for today, opting to walk the rest of the way home. Good on you, Mikaela. Don’t take Sam’s bullshit.

Sam, realizing that he’s put his foot in his mouth for the 80th time today, pleads with his Camaro to do him a solid and work, and this actually works out for him. Great. Sam, victorious, once again offers Mikaela a ride, which she, once again, takes.

He drops her off without further incident, and she thanks him for listening. Even though they didn’t really talk that much. I dunno, maybe they had a super deep conversation offscreen. Mikaela asks Sam if he thinks she’s shallow, because clearly all women need approval from the men around them, and Sam says that there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Which made me groan aloud.

Anyway, she gets inside without a problem, and Sam professes his love for his new Camaro for allowing him to talk to a girl. Or at least talk at her.

Back in Washington, D.C., at the Pentagon National Military Command Center, we’re making weirdly racist calls on who hacked the military.

Up with Air Force One, a conspicuous boombox transforms into a robot, and then runs off to hack shit. The President of the United States requests some snack cakes. A flight attendant goes down to storage to retrieve said snack cakes, and finds that boombox in the elevator with her. Considering this is Air Force One, you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing, but this is Bayverse, and we don’t think here.

The flight attendant brings the boombox down with her and places it on the counter as she goes to get the presidential snack cakes. The boombox immediately disappears. Now, you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing, but this is Bayverse-

The flight attendant opens up the snack cake package, for some reason, and drops the cake on the floor. She then proceeds to eat it, and then act shocked when it tastes like floor. There’s a robot in her fucking line of sight, and you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing-

She leaves to go feed the President floor cakes, and our little robot friend gets to work stealing government secrets. He, if nothing else, looks pretty cool doing it. He’s a very pointy lad.

Back at the Pentagon, Maddie- Rachael Taylor’s character- can hear the hacking. This sends everyone into a panic, because, well, that shouldn’t be happening. The hacking noise is a direct match to the one from Qatar, so that’s obviously a problem.

Back on Air Force One, our little robot friend is looking for “Project Iceman”, which he very quickly finds, and downloads everything they’ve got on it, and also plants a virus. The process seems to be… doing things to him. It’s weird. This movie is weird.

The Pentagon cuts all the system hardlines, stopping the process, but it’s too late- he got what he wanted, just about. Two security personnel come into the room, and the robot kills them both with some spinning blade disc nonsense. Air Force One is forced to land for the safety of everyone on-board. More security detail comes in to deal with the little bastard, but he transforms into a boombox and sits on a shelf to avoid suspicion. Now, you’d perhaps expect-

With the plane grounded, our robot is able to walk his little ass over to a cop car. And when I say walk, I do mean walk; this fucker is in multiple folks’ line of sight and nobody notices a thing. When he enters the car, he’s greeted by the mustachioed driver- the same driver who was operating the helicopter at the beginning of the film. This mustache man is a holographic avatar, one that’s being used by all the Decepticons.

We get our first real taste of Cybertronian language, as our robot- it’s Frenzy, his name is Frenzy- lets everyone know that he’s found a clue to the location of the AllSpark, and, through the power of the internet, knows where to find the guy who’s gonna give them what they need.

Three guesses to who it is, and the first two don’t count.

Back at the Witwicky household, Sam’s car does a runner in the middle of the night. Sam, horrified that his property is being stolen, pursues on a bike, screaming at his dad to call the cops. Sam also calls the cops, as he tears through the neighborhood.

The Camaro breaks into an abandoned building, Sam follows, and we finally get a shot of our audience appeal character. Sam watches in disbelief as a giant yellow space robot shines a beacon into the sky, then makes a video on his flip phone recording the experience. He apologizes to his parents for owning pornographic magazines, and goes to face his probable demise.

However, death does not come from above, instead manifesting itself as two of the strongest junkyard dogs in the known universe, who break their brick-inlaid chains to get at this little dip of a man. Sam is chased through the yard, climbing on top of a couple precarious oil drums, even though there’s a ladder, like, right there. The Camaro rolls in, scaring off the dogs, and Sam bolts, throwing the keys to his ride at his ride. When he gets outside, the cops have arrived, and immediately arrest him.

Back with the US government, the Secretary of State is having a conversation about all the bullshit that just went down with Air Force One. He and his fellow cishet old white men discuss their options, until Maddie comes in to set them straight on some of the facts. They act all indignant about it, because women can’t be smart, right?

Right???

RIGHT??????????

RIGH-

Anyway, we get a weird little deflection of Maddie’s role in everything, because a woman is nothing without the men around her, then she brings up the point that the bullshit that happened on Air Force One went down in just a few seconds, which isn’t something that anyone can actually do. She brings up quantum mechanics, which everyone blows off as nonsense- not that I wouldn’t as well- and theorizes on a DNA-based computer, which is technically a thing, if not trapped in the realm of speculation. It’s at this point that the Secretary of Defense tells her to come back when she can back these wild claims up, and isn’t just clearly spitballing.

And then he snaps his fingers at her, and any point he might have had leaves my brain so I have more room for being enraged.

Back with Sam, we’re at the police station talking to the cops. His dad is here, and Sam is trying to explain that his car is a dude. Even though he took at a video (one that was likely crap, given how quickly he spun his phone around to show off what he was seeing) the cops, understandably, don’t believe him. Then one of them, not so understandably, starts… threatening Sam? With his sidearm? And daring him to try something? This isn’t any sort of statement on the corruption of American law enforcement, it’s just bizarre.

Back in Qatar, our soldier buddies have found a telephone line, and are going to try to use it to get in contact with the rest of the world. It’s just too bad that Scorponok’s decided to make an entrance, and knock said telephone line the hell down. Ed Sheeran has next to no reaction to this, despite it happening maybe ten feet behind him. Fig speaks Spanish, and Ed Sheeran makes a point to be an asshole about it.

Scorponok is about to stab Lennox with his very pointy tail, when Epps notices- finally, someone with peripheral vision- and starts shooting. Then everyone starts shooting, kicking up enough sand to blind themselves, as Scorponok scuttles away, buries himself, then reappears behind Ed Sheeran.

Ed Sheeran does not survive this experience.

The others bolt, not wanting the same to happen to them, and for the fourth time I wonder just why the hell this young boy was at the base in the first place.

Off in the distance, the community of a nearby town wonders just what the shit is going on out in the desert. Our soldiers run into the town, and everyone gets their guns and start firing on Scorponok, who retaliates, because why the hell wouldn’t he?

Lennox demands that the young boy take him to his father, and proceeds to borrow his phone. As shit goes down outside, we have a sort-of gag where Lennox is trying to contact the Pentagon, while a telemarketer tries to get him to buy a phone package. In order for this call to go through, he’s going to need a credit card. This is where the well-known “pocket” scene comes from, as Lennox searches Epps’ pants for his wallet as he fires on Scorponok. It’s probably the best-written thing in this whole film.

With the credit card acquired, Lennox finally gets through to the Pentagon, and tosses Epps the phone so he can talk. Maybe he’s got anxiety about speaking on the phone, I dunno.

Scorponok shows off his disregard for historical architecture, blowing up several buildings, and the US government just watches this all go down. One of the actors in this scene looks like my dad, and it trips me up every time he’s on screen. Anyway, now the Pentagon knows about the giant space robots running around in Qatar. They send over some air support about it. All this manages to do is piss Scorponok off.

So they try it again.

This time it works, sort of.

At the very least, he’s left now.

Tail fell off, though.

Also, Fig’s been grievously wounded. The others, for once, don’t make fun of his native language while they help him hold his blood inside his body.

Back at the Pentagon, Maddie’s looking to prove that the bullshit that’s been going on is of the sci-fi variety, and in order to do that, she’s going to need a little outside help. She takes the information from the Pentagon, slaps it into an SD card, hides that shit in her blush compact, and then runs out the door to Glenn Whitmann’s house. Or, rather, his grandma’s house.

Glenn is a hacker, and shouldn’t be seeing anything that Maddie’s brought him, but everyone knows that confidentiality is for nerds, so whatever.

Back at the Pentagon, Maddie’s immediately been caught. It’s almost like slapping the military network onto an SD card maybe wasn’t such a hot idea. But what do I know?

Glenn takes a look at the soundbite and figures out that there’s a code embedded in the thing in about two seconds. Good to know our tax dollars are being well-spent on the US military, that some dude in his jammies can figure this shit out faster than a whole team of analysts. They figure out that “Project Iceman” is involved with this somehow, and also the existence of Sector Seven. It’s at this point that the FBI busts in. Good. I kind of want Maddie to go to jail for this, because she was about as stupid as she could be handling the situation.

Glenn’s cousin goes through a closed glass door- don’t worry, it’s tempered- and there’s a weird cut before that exact same shot continues, and he’s tackled into the pool. There was no reason for that to have happened, but here we are.

Back with Sam, we’re treated to him in his boxers, shooting basketballs in his room. He goes into the kitchen, where Mojo is standing on a stool. It’s a very tall stool, the sort you sit on, and he’s just… there. I don’t know how he got there. There’s no one else in the room besides Sam, and I know he didn’t put him there.

Clearly this must mean Mojo is God, and being on that stool is his divine will. I will be approaching the rest of the franchise with this in mind, because it’s clearly the only answer.

Our merciful Lord Mojo jumps up on the kitchen counter and begins growling at something through the window. Sam looks out… the opposite window… to find that his Camaro has returned to him, and is less than thrilled about it, to put it lightly. He drops a jug of milk- luckily it was mostly empty, given the sound it makes when it hits the floor- and gives his buddy Miles a call. You remember Miles, don’t you? If you don’t, it’s fine, because he reestablishes his quirkiness with a single shot, as he sits in a swimsuit and bathes his huge-ass dog in a kiddie pool, and answers the phone with a headset he just happened to be wearing. He must get a lot of calls during Dog Washing Hours.


After giving us one of the most intense voice cracks I’ve ever heard, Sam books it out of his house, hopping on a bike to escape his murderous Camaro. He’s not seen the thing commit any murders, mind you, but he seems pretty convinced that it would do the job, given half a chance. Also, this isn’t the bike he rode the night before; that one is likely being chewed on by those strong-ass junkyard dogs. No, for some reason, the Witwickys have a pastel pink girl’s bike, with the fun little handle tassels and the basket and everything. As far as I can tell, Sam is an only child, and if you think Bay’s going to allow for a teenage boy to have the vulnerability to own a pink bike, you’ve not been paying attention for the last 48.5 minutes.

The Camaro gives chase, rolling after Sam on his bike at a brisk 7 MPH down the friggin’ sidewalk, one of the only scenes in this travesty of a film to actually get me to crack a smile. Sam races through town until city planning puts a stop to him, through the magic of using chunks of cement to decorate the mulch around their trees. He crashes his bike, faceplants into the concrete in front of Mikaela, and promptly dies, thus ending the film.

No, he doesn’t die. I just told a fib. I’m sorry.

Instead, he does a flip and lands on his back, likely receiving a concussion, in front of Mikaela and her friends. Her friends laugh, because everyone hates Sam, as they should, and Mikaela says that what he just did was “really awesome.” Don’t try to be nice, Mikaela, this is Sam we’re talking about; you could stick the dude in the freezer overnight and he still wouldn’t be even remotely cool.

Sam gets back to the whole “running away from a car” deal, and Mikaela decides that this is the sort of thing she’d like to do with her day, so she ditches her friends in the middle of their scheduled Burger King™ time to go see what the hell Sam’s on about.

As Sam is chased by the Camaro who is being chased by Mikaela on her motorized scooter, a cop becomes involved, tearing through the streets to join this ridiculous game of tag. Now, we’ve seen two different flavor of cop so far- the mustachioed avatar cop car that picked up Frenzy from the airport, and the dude who threatened a teenage boy with a gun after accusing him of being under the influence of drugs. Either way, I don’t think this is going to turn out well for Sam.

Sam’s cornered himself under one of those really wide bridges where people can park their cars, which wasn’t terribly smart, but it’s Sam, so this is about par for the course. The Camaro manages to miss him, but the cop car does not. Sam is actually pretty cool with the cops being here, as if they could do anything about “Satan’s Camaro.” I guess he didn’t see the decal on the side of this car that says “to punish and enslave…”

Sam attempts to approach the car for help, and gets clotheslined by a car door for his troubles. He hits his head on the pavement, certainly exasperating the brain injury he received not ten minutes ago. Still, he continues to try to talk to the holographic avatar through the windshield, revealing that the bike he’s been riding is his mother’s. Mystery solved, I suppose.

The cop car doesn’t much appreciate being slapped on the hood, and begins to rev violently at Sam, threatening to run him over several times. Then it explodes into being a robot. Sam, who’s seen a lot of really weird shit in the last 24 hours, nopes out of the situation. It’s at this point that I realize he’s wearing a shirt for the band the Strokes. I don’t know why that stuck out to me, but it did. Guess my brain needed something to latch onto during all this.

Sam is running as fast as his little legs allow, as our newest robot friend takes up a leisurely jog to keep pace. Then he kicks Sam. He kicks Sam’s body like the football. This, of course, instantly turns Sam into a bag of jelly and kills him, thus ending the film.

No, he doesn’t die. I just told another fib. I’m sorry.

Sam somehow survives being punted by a giant metal leg and lands in the windshield of a car that doesn’t turn into a robot. Then he gets yelled at by the cop car. This is Barricade, a member of the Decepticons, and Sam’s got something he wants. Or, should I say “LadiesMan217” has something he wants.

LadiesMan217 is Sam’s Ebay username. This is both stupid because no teenage boy existing beyond the year 1985 would have ever called himself that, and also because it’s just stupid.

Barricade wants the glasses Sam presented for his genealogy report, and he wants them NOW. Seeing as the thing he wants is for sale, and nobody had been bidding on it, one would wonder why Barricade and his associates didn’t just try to purchase them like upstanding citizens. Perhaps Decepticons don’t understand the concept of money, or perhaps they don’t have a stable address to have the glasses shipped to. Or perhaps nobody considered that angle when the script was being put together. Who can say?

Sam gets back to running away from Barricade, we see where Mikaela got to, and the two of them collide. Sam rips Mikaela off of her scooter, and they both fall to the ground. Mikaela, who did not buckle the clasp on her helmet, asks Sam what his fucking problem is. Then his problem shows up, and they take a very long time to get up so they can run. So long, in fact, that the Camaro has to swing in to save them. After much pleading from Sam, Mikaela gets inside Satan’s Camaro, and the two of them are whisked away to safety. Barricade pursues, and then the butt rock starts.

There’s a lot of screaming and yelling, the Camaro busts through a window and several shelves in an abandoned building, there’s some drifting, and then suddenly it’s nighttime. Barricade somehow got in front of the Camaro, and is circling like a shark. The Camaro locks the two teenagers inside itself, though I suppose they could climb out through the still-open windows if they really wanted to. The Camaro cuts the engine off, then cuts it back on and bolts for the exit, and this somehow tricks Barricade long enough for them to get past.

The Camaro dumps Mikaela and Sam out one of the doors and then transforms into that yellow space robot we saw a bit ago. It’s Bumblebee! Nearly an hour in, and we finally get a proper look at the little bastard. I guess that’s what happens when you spend the first 20-something minutes on being xenophobic and appealing to the focus groups that think it’s fine sexualize high schoolers.

Bumblebee- no, he’s not introduced himself yet, but I just can’t keep calling him “the Camaro” anymore- comes out of his transformation ready to square the fuck up. Barricade throws himself at Bumblebee, they roll around on the ground for a bit, then things start sparking and exploding, because this is a Michael Bay film. Frenzy jumps out and starts chasing down Mikaela and Sam, while Bumblebee and Barricade murder death punch each other. Frenzy manages to grab Sam by the ankles, drag him to the ground, and rip his pants off. Not sure how that happened, considering he’s still got his shoes on.

While Sam’s busy being chased by a sentient pile of safety pins, Mikaela’s taken it upon herself to be proactive about her survival, and is raiding a nearby building for power tools. She sprints out holding an electric jig saw and saves Sam by decapitating Frenzy. If you know anything about Transformers, then you know this doesn’t actually kill Frenzy, but good on her for being a badass. Why couldn’t Mikaela be our main character again? Oh, right, because she’s a ~girl~.

Sam punts Frenzy’s head, like, 50 yards, which seems like something he shouldn’t be able to do, given that he’s a massive weenie, but there you are. With that out of the way, Sam takes Mikaela’s hand and they run off to go watch the giant robot fight. The bottom of Frenzy’s head turns into a spider and he crawls his way over to Mikaela’s purse. He’s gonna steal her gum, the fiend!

Mikaela and Sam have, unfortunately, missed the giant robot fight, which means that we, as the audience, have also missed the giant robot fight. Which is unbelievably stupid, seeing as everyone who has ever watched this movie came for the GIANT GODDAMN ROBOTS.

Mikaela asks just who the hell the yellow robot is, I guess because she’s finally had a second to process what the hell’s going on. Sam claims that he’s a super-advanced robot, “probably from Japan.” Whether or not this is a reference to the Japanese origins of the original toy line isn’t clear, though somehow I think it’s more xenophobia. Sam also makes the claim that if Bumblebee had intended to hurt them, he would have done it by now. This is quite the jump from a few hours ago, when he was calling the poor guy “Satan’s Camaro.”

Sam finally, finally asks Bumblebee what his deal is, and we get our first taste of the Bayverse Bumblebee Gimmick. The Gimmick here is that, due to an injury to his vocal processing, Bumblebee cannot communicate through traditional means, i.e. speech. Because of this, he instead strings together sentences by flicking through the radio frequencies and choosing key words. This can lead to some interesting audio design, like describing his fellow Autobots to “rain down like visitors form heaven, Hallelujah!” because a radio sermon fit what he was trying to say best.

This gimmick is one that has been used in other pieces of Transformers media, at least in part. Bumblebee is unable to speak traditionally in Transformers: Prime, and instead communicates in beeps and clicks that his teammates can understand, but not so much the humans, save for Raf. In Bumblebee (2018), the idea was used whole-cloth, with the injury resulting in his inability to speak happening on-camera within the first 10 minutes of the movie, and the idea of “expressing oneself through music” being introduced by his human companion Charlie Watson.

All in all, I rather like the idea going on here; it’s an interesting part of his character that opens up for a lot of interesting and creative moments.

It’s just too bad it was introduced in fucking Bayverse.

But yeah, anyway, the other Autobots are coming to Earth. Shit’s gonna be lit.

Bumblebee turns back into a Camaro, and Sam uses the power of FOMO to get Mikaela to go in the car with him. We get a shot of Barricade fucking dying on the side of the road. Frenzy murders Mikaela’s phone, and then steals its identity, including the little bejeweled heart stickers. Good thing Mikaela remembered to go get her purse, otherwise he probably would have felt very silly doing that.

Mikaela refuses to sit in the driver’s seat, seeing as she now knows Sam’s car is sentient, and sort of feels weird about this whole thing. Sam suggests that she sit in his lap instead, as the camera angles to give us a peek at the cup of Mikaela’s bra. When asked why the hell she should do such a thing, Sam says it’s a concern about her safety, given that the middle console of the car does not have a seatbelt. Sam either fails to recognize that seatbelts going over two layered bodies won’t save either of them in the event of a crash, or he’s just trying to make an excuse to have a pretty girl in his lap.

Given what movie this is, I’m going to guess it’s the latter.

Mikaela has a similar line of thought, but scoots over anyway, saying that the seatbelt line was a “smooth move”. It wasn’t, but if I picked apart every single bad line Sam had in this film, I’d be here all day.

Mikaela questions Bumblebee’s taste in alt-mode, which offends him to the point of dumping both her and Sam out in the street and driving away. He returns, moments later, as a sleek new Camaro, that I’m sure some car aficionados would call “sexy.”

Bumblebee’s alt-mode is a 2009 Chevrolet Camaro, of which there were none during the time of filming. It was put together for this movie in roughly five weeks. Sam is blown away by the fact that he now owns a car that does not currently exist in his universe. Mikaela is impressed, or at least she would be, if women were allowed to show that emotion in a non-horny way in a Bay film.

Judy doesn’t count.

As Bumblebee breaks into yet another restricted area, we get a shot of the Earth from orbit, as several objects rocket towards the planet. Sam and Mikaela watch the Autobots burn up in the atmosphere, and Mikaela tries to hold Sam’s hand as they do, and it’s at this point that I have to address how much I hate these two’s dynamic.

I don’t give a single solitary shit about this romance, because A) it’s poorly written, B) Mikaela could do infinitely better than Sam, C) I dislike Sam so very much, D) Mikaela, who is a way more interesting character, got placed on friggin’ love interest duty because ~girl~, and E) it’s useless padding to try and make me care about what’s happening here, and I just DON’T. I do NOT care about whether these two get together or not.

We see the Autobots crash-land, three out of four of them causing massive amounts of property damage and possibly killing at least one person. Their stasis pods crack open, and they each climb out, completely naked and in desperate need of clothing to hide their shame. With a quick scan of nearby vehicles, they’re once again decent to be seen in public.

Bumblebee drives the kids out to what I can only assume is the warehouse district he sent that beacon out in, as our collection of good guys finally come together at long last. A massive Peterbilt semi-truck stops directly in front of Mikaela and Sam.

We’re over an hour into this film, and we’re just now getting to the quintessential Transformer, Optimus Prime himself.

In the original cartoon, Optimus’s alt-mode was what’s known as a cabover truck, one where the cab- where the driver sits- is seated directly over the engine. These were popular during the days when maximum truck-lengths were much shorter than they are currently. This is why when you look at height charts for Optimus over various continuities, his G1 cartoon counterpart much shorter than his other iterations.

Modern trucks are longer, and don’t need the cab to sit on top of the engine to save on space. The designers chose to use a Peterbilt to make sure that Optimus would have an imposing stature when compared to his fellow Autobots.

Because heaven forbid we not have heightism come into play in this film.

Our Autobots transform, and say what you will about these bastards being visually incomprehensible, the transformations themselves are cool as hell. My personal favorite is Jazz’s, where he does a cool windmill into his root mode.

Optimus crouches like he’s looking at a cool bug on the sidewalk and addresses Sam by name. He doesn’t even acknowledge Mikaela, which I find to be a bit rude, but whatever. He then introduces himself as the leader of the Autobots.

Peter Cullen is back as the voice for Optimus Prime, sounding wonderful as always. He almost wasn’t brought on for this project, because Michael Bay didn’t want him. If the fans hadn’t thrown a hissyfit, who knows who we would have gotten to be our space dad for the next hour and a half?

This is actually an issue that’s recurred several times in the last few years, and not just with Cullen; Frank Welker, the voice of Megatron, as well as many other Transformers, has been refused roles within Transformers properties. In general, this is because both Cullen and Welker are union actors, and Hasbro would prefer to hire sound-alikes than pay more money for the originals. This isn’t to shame the non-union actors, goodness no, just to merely point out less-than-fantastic business practices.

I realize there have been a lot of tangents, but you have to understand that I am suffering as I do this.

Optimus then introduces his team- there’s Jazz, whose first line is “What’s crackin’ little bitches?”, Ironhide, who incorrectly quotes Dirty Harry, and Ratchet, who calls out just how obnoxiously horny Sam’s character is. We also finally get Bumblebee’s name.

Mikaela asks the very good question of why the fuck the Autobots are here on Earth. Optimus explains that the AllSpark is here, and they’ve got to get to it before Megatron does. He then goes on to explain who Megatron is, stating that he “betrayed” the Cybertronian empire.

No, how exactly he did that isn’t addressed. We’ll just have to take Optimus’s word, I suppose.

If you’ve sussed out by this point the the AllSpark and the Cube™ are the same thing, congrats! You win. Megatron followed the AllSpark to Earth, where he promptly was neutralized by the cold of the Arctic circle. This was 110 years prior to the events of this film, and where Archibald Witwicky came in to the story.

When the expedition was happening, Archibald fell through the ice during a collapse, and ended up finding Megatron’s frozen body in an ice cave. He went poking around on this strange metal giant, and ended up activating Megatron’s navigation systems, which imprinted the coordinates of the AllSpark onto Archibald’s glasses.

Don’t ask how that works, it just does.

So, the Autobots need the glasses, so they can find the AllSpark before the Decepticons do, so those guys don’t use it to build an army out of Earth’s machines, which will destroy humanity.

Sounds simple enough, let’s go get that vision correction device!

Back with the military dudes, everyone’s taking a gander at the tail that Scorponok left behind. They theorize that the metal that makes up these giant murder-robots reacts to extreme heat, but elaboration on that point will have to wait, because the tail has begun to flail. They quickly strap it down, then call the military to let them know to strap anti-tank guns onto anything that’s going to be approaching any giant robots.

Meanwhile, in an interrogation room, Maddie and Glen have been left to sweat a bit. Glen takes to stress-eating, while framing it as a psychological tactic to subconsciously prove his innocence to the FBI.

This is a fat joke, with the added nasty layer of Glen being a black man about to be interrogated by one of the most intimidating white cops I’ve seen in a hot minute.

Glen immediately folds, pinning all the blame on Maddie, and claiming that he’s been a perfect angel his whole life. We get some weird purity culture out of him, before Maddie lets the FBI know that she needs to talk to the Secretary of Defense, NOW.

Over at the Witwicky household, Sam’s parents are watching the news, trying to find out what all those loud crashes were about. Optimus Prime drives down their residential street, the rest of the gang in tow, then they all park to wait for Sam to go get the glasses.

For about 20 seconds.

Sam has to physically hold the door shut to prevent his father from coming out and seeing several very tall robots from outer space tip-toeing around his freshly-landscaped yard, I guess because they got antsy. Optimus plods around on the grass and breaks a fountain, and our benevolent god Mojo comes out of the house, assuredly to smite the leader of the Autobots.

Mikaela runs onto the scene, and Sam chastises her for not controlling the robots who didn’t even acknowledge her existence, outside of pointing out Sam was sexually attracted to her.

Mojo pees on Ironhide’s foot, which prompts Ironhide to threaten to shoot the creature. This is why Ironhide isn’t getting into heaven. Sam, one of Mojo’s chosen few, claims that the mortal shell of his god is seen as a beloved pet by many humans. Sam runs into the house, before Mojo can incur his divine wrath on the Autobots.

While Sam goes to get the glasses, the Autobots decide to do a little peeping on the house, watching his parents watch TV. Sam tears his room apart trying to find the glasses, and Optimus thinks that it would be helpful if he brought Mikaela up to help look. It’s at this point that I realize that Sam has an utterly bizarre fish tank.

I mean, legitimately, what the fuck is this? No filter, no plants, might not even have any rocks on the bottom. Is this a comically oversized bong Sam threw a couple fish into? What the fuck.

Mikaela starts looking for the glasses, running into what is likely a box of porn mags, then they both look out the window to find that the Autobots have decided to hide in plain sight by transforming... in the middle of Sam’s backyard. Amazing work, gentlemen.

Sam finally convinces the Autobots to go sit in the alley and wait, only for Ratchet to run into a power line and trip into a greenhouse. The resulting impact is interpreted as an earthquake. Judy does not have the reaction one might expect from someone who’s lived in California for at least ten years.

Ratchet’s fine, by the way.

The power cuts out, and Ron goes up to check on his son, because he’s at least a halfway-decent father. Ratchet’s shining a light to aid in the search for the glasses. Sam’s parents notice this bright light, and bang on Sam’s door to see what’s up.

Sam quickly hides Mikaela and then attempts to salvage the situation, answering the door and trying to control the narrative. Unfortunately, Ron is far too inquisitive for Sam to do this, and then Judy asks if Sam was masturbating.

Judy, is privacy just not a thing to you? Because if not, it really ought to be.

She keeps going with it too, trying to come up with code words, until another one of the Autobots trips and causes Ron to panic again, climbing into Sam’s ancient claw-foot bathtub to protect himself. He looks out the window to check on his beloved yard, lamenting that the earthquake tore it up.

Ironhide is strongly considering killing Sam’s parents. Optimus tells him that they don’t harm humans, and also begins to wonder if he made a mistake bringing this guy along.

Back in Sam’s room, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Sam is an absolutely terrible liar, and Mikaela reveals herself, if only to prevent Judy from trying to talk about self-pleasure again. Of course, now she gets to be subjected to both of Sam’s parents objectifying her, so this might be a lose-lose situation.

Sam is reminded that his backpack is in the kitchen, just in time for the government to show up at his house. Mikaela makes a comment about Judy being nice. I suppose on a surface level, yes, being told that you’re gorgeous by someone’s mom is nice. I do have to question the context that compliment took place in, however.

Sam’s about to hand the glasses over to the Autobots, when someone rings the doorbell. It’s Sector Seven, and they’re here to talk to Sam about his stolen car being part of an issue involving national security. Ron and Judy are more concerned about their yard being torn up, Judy yelling that they “need to get their hands off [her] bush.”

We still have another hour of this movie.

The agent leading this mission asks Sam to come with him for questioning, which his parents are very much against. Mojo also voices his displeasure, but it would seem that Agent Simmons is not a follower of the Tenets of Mojo. Sam gets geigered, and his readings are high enough for Sector Seven to take him and everyone in this house into custody.

As Sam and Mikaela are riding in the back of the car, Simmons brings up Sam’s Ebay account, and also the phone video he took of Bumblebee earlier in the week. Mikaela is rather unimpressed with Sam at the moment, probably because he’s gotten her arrested. She still tries to help him out though, because she really is just the nicest fucking person on the planet.

Alas, the combined efforts of these two teenagers isn’t enough to fool the long arm of the law, especially when it’s a branch of said law that deals with extraterrestrial activity. Simmons threatens to lock up these literal children for life if they don’t start talking. Mikaela isn’t taking the bait, so he goes after her father’s parole hearing instead.

Yep! As it turns out, Mikaela and her father stole cars to get by, and she’s got the record to back that claim up. Simmons calls her a criminal, then says that criminals are hot. Mikaela looks like she’s about to cry, and I don’t blame her in the slightest.

Optimus, I suppose because his dad senses were tingling, takes the opportunity to place his leg in the road for the car to run into, then grabs said car like an unruly cat and lifts it until the roof rips off due to stress. The agents in the other cars pile out and point their guns at the giant space robot. The rest of the Autobots quickly relieve them of their weapons.

Optimus notes that Simmons doesn’t seem surprised that a bunch of giant robots just took all his guys’ guns, and demands that he exit the vehicle, posthaste. Simmons obliges, after a bit more prodding. Mikaela undoes Sam’s handcuffs, and he gets fucking pissy about it, as if this girl he’s had a grand total of three (awkward) conversations with should have told him something as personal as “hey, so my dad’s in jail and I’ve been to juvenile detention.”

Luckily, she doesn’t let him get away with it, calling him out as the spoiled, self-centered, privileged little shithead that he is.

Of course, we don’t get any sort of real acknowledgement from Sam, having to move on with the plot. Perhaps, if we hadn’t spent the last hour and 20 minutes faffing about on drivel, we could have had Sam get an actual moment of self-reflection, and potentially even character growth. However, this is Bayverse, and everyone knows that personal accountability is for fucking sissies.

Mikaela and Sam ask several questions, but get no answers from Agent Simmons. And then Bumblebee pees on him.

I hate that I had to write that. I hate it very much.

Anyway, I don’t know why that had to happen, but it did, and I’m nothing if not thorough.

Optimus tells Bumblebee to cut it out, and with that the Sector Seven agents are cuffs and left on the side of the road. Mikaela orders Simmons to strip, as punishment for threatening her father, then cuffs him to a street lamp.

...Yes, that does sound like a bizarre sexual fantasy, doesn’t it?

Unfortunately for our teen heroes, they forgot to confiscate everyone’s phones, and Sector Seven knows what’s up, thanks to the power of speakerphone. More cars and a couple of helicopters show up basically immediately, and the Autobots decide it’s time to dip.

But not before Ironhide fires off a pulsewave into the ground that causes a five-car pileup.

Optimus, I suppose because he knows he chose a ridiculously flashy alt-mode that is in no way practical, just picks the kids up in and places them on his shoulder like a couple of parakeets, then takes up a leisurely jog to get away from the eyes in the sky. He runs through the city, racking up what is likely millions in property damage, as the helicopters pursue. He passes by a “Legalize LA” billboard, which feels odd to see, given what movie this is.

The ‘copters somehow manage to lose Optimus, despite him being relatively slow, and having a notable radiation level that they’ve been using to track him. He hides inside the scaffolding of a bridge, only for Mikaela and Sam to slip off of his polished body to their deaths, thus ending the film.

No, they don’t die. I just told another fib. I’m sorry.

Bumblebee snatches them up just before they hit the ground, the impact of his metal body catching them at 75 mph, killing them instantly and ending the film.

Nope, that doesn’t happen either.

Mikaela and Sam are fine, some-fucking-how, but Sam’s dropped the MacGuffin glasses. The helicopters swing back around, having noticed the sound of a car crashing into the ground and the screams of two whole adolescents. They break out a fucking harpoon gun and fire on our kid appeal character.

Repeatedly.

They wrap up Bumblebee in a series of cables, as he screams like a moose. Mikaela and Sam are held at gunpoint by what is honestly far too many dudes, and are then arrested for the second time in ten minutes. Bumblebee is smoked... because he’s a bee? Sam, not liking this one bit, finds the strength in his weenie body to push a cop off of himself, run at one of the dudes with the smoke guns, throw him to the ground, and then start smoking him. He’s immediately tackled, but points for trying.

Sam and Mikaela are placed back into custody, and the rest of the Autobots regroup with Optimus to see what the plan is. Optimus says that they can’t save Bumblebee without hurting humans, so I guess Bumblebee is just a POW now. Well, at least they got the glasses. That’s cool.

Back at the Pentagon, things are getting dicey, as the other world powers are starting to suspect that something’s up. The Secretary of Defense is approached by a man with a mustache and a briefcase. He’s from Sector Seven, but the Secretary gives not a fuck about mysterious organizations. All the computers in the room suddenly go down, the virus from earlier working its magic- only this time, the blackout is global.

Mr. Mustache opens his briefcase, while explaining that Sector Seven is something known as a “special access” sector of the government, which is why nobody’s ever heard of it; it’s beyond top secret. Commissioned by President Herbert Hoover 80 years prior, it deals with alien life.

When the Beagle 2 spacecraft was lost on the way to Mars in 2003, the mission was declared a failure. This was a lie. The Beagle 2 recorded several seconds of Mars before being crushed to death by a Transformer. This tidbit is pretty funny, given that the Beagle 2 was rediscovered on Mars in 2014, seven years after this film released. Not a terribly mysterious death anymore, is it?

Comparing the footage from Mars to the footage from Qatar has Sector Seven thinking that these are the same species. Which they are. God, it’d be so fucked up if there were two species of giant robots in this film.

Mr. Mustache theorizes that because the Transformers now know that they can be harmed by human weaponry, they’re being proactive about their safety and shutting down all forms of communication technology with that virus that keeps popping up. It’s only a matter of time before the shit hits the fan for humanity.

Mr. Secretary tells his guys to try going analog with comms, breaking out the short-wave radios, to tell their ships to return home.

Over at an Air Force base, Lennox and the gang have landed, only to be scooped up by a bunch of dudes in suits.

Back with Maddie and Glen, the two of them have fallen asleep in the interrogation room, Maddie still wearing her friggin’ four inch pumps as her legs are propped up on the table, crossed in a way that seems rather uncomfortable. Glen gets to sleep like a normal human being, with his head resting on his forearms. Why this place doesn’t have a holding cell for these situations is beyond me.

Mr. Secretary comes in to bring Maddie on as his advisor. Glen can come too, I guess, considering he’s the one who actually figured out the sound file virus.

We get a little military glorification, and then it’s revealed that Mikaela and Sam, as well as Maddie and Glen, are aboard this helicopter. Their paths cross at last. Our heroes are transported to the Hoover Dam, where Bumblebee is also. They are still smoking him.

Meanwhile, the Autobots are figuring out where to go, with the power of Archibald’s glasses. Ratchet, who I guess is omnipotent, senses that the Decepticons have also figured out the location, and that this is going to be a race against the clock. And I mean, he’s right, but the phrasing is a bit odd.

Jazz wants to know when they’re going to save Bumblebee. Optimus says that they aren’t, and that Bumblebee’s sacrifice is noble, and that he would want the Autobots to leave him and complete the mission. As this is said, we get another shot of Bumblebee getting smoked and trapped in a lab. Yep, this is totally what he would want. He absolutely signed up for this, giving himself up to the government and not at all fighting like mad to not be captured.

I don’t think Bayverse Optimus actually knows what martyrdom is, which is bizarre, given that it’s a major trait in a lot of other iterations of the character.

Ironhide isn’t even sure why they’re bothering to save humanity, given that humans are violent and awful, his point being hammered home as Bumblebee is tortured for scientific reasons. Ironhide seems to have forgotten that Cybertron has been at war for literally millions of years. Optimus has faith in humanity, however, stating that we’re “young”.

And then he says that he’s going to end his own race, by destroying the Cube™, which is how they reproduce, because that’s the only way to end the war.

Which is arguably one of the most hardcore fictional applications of eugenics ever conceived.

Being advocated for by Optimus Goddamn Prime.

We still have another 50 minutes of this movie.

Optimus then proves that he does, in fact, know what self-sacrifice is, stating that, if all else fails, he’ll shove the AllSpark into his spark, which will destroy them both. He’s pretty chill about it, too.

Up on top of the Hoover Dam, Frenzy has fallen out of Mikaela’s bag.

Mr. Secretary is also at the Hoover Dam now, as is Lennox’s team. Oh, and Agent Simmons, who is thankfully wearing pants. He offers to buy Sam a coffee, as repartitions for threatening his family, arresting him, and being a complete creep to a teenage girl. Sam gives not a fuck about caramel macchiatos with extra foam and chocolate drizzle, however. He only cares about his car.

Mr. Mustache, who is also here, needs Sam to spill the beans on all these friggin’ giant robots that are running around. This is where Sam realizes he has the upper hand for once, and he starts making demands. One such demand is having Mikaela’s record scrubbed clean, which is an actually very nice thing for him to have done for her. We’ll see if his intent comes to fruition. For now, it’s time to talk about Bumblebee.

We get a shot of all these folks heading into the secret base hidden inside the Hoover Dam, and it’s at this point that I notice that Maddie’s shirt is basically see-through.

Inside the Dam, we see that Sector Seven′s been keeping Megatron this entire time, keeping him neutralized with cryo-stasis since 1935. Cryopreservation was invented in the 50′s. This isn’t a nitpick, I just thought it was a neat little fact.

Megatron being on Earth has resulted in most modern technology. This sort of plot point always bothers me, because it takes away agency from the entire human race. We didn’t use our own ingenuity and work ethic to advance society, we plagiarized from a more advanced species. I dunno, it just rubs me the wrong way.

We get the part of the movie where info is hashed out, so that everyone is on the same page, Sam spouting off Autobot propaganda. We can forgive him for this,considering he’s 16, and no one is immune to propaganda, especially when they have zero way of doing their own research to form their own opinion with.

Sector Seven also has the AllSpark, kept in the room next to Megatron’s, like the chumps they will soon find themselves to be. It’s about ten stories tall and the reason the Hoover Dam exists. With so much concrete suppressing its alien energies, surely no one will ever find it!

Except for Frenzy, who came in through a mouse hole. Whoopsie-doodle!

The AllSpark zaps the nasty little man, restoring his body with its weird MacGuffin powers. Frenzy tells all his coworkers that he found what they were looking for, and everyone starts heading over.

Maddie asks Mr. Mustache what exactly he means by “energies”, perhaps worried that this whole thing has been some elaborate ploy to get her to invest in magic healing stones. Mr. Mustache brings everyone into a testing chamber, since the best way to explain how the AllSpark works is through a demonstration.

There’s a big fish tank in the middle of this testing chamber, in which Agent Simmons places a donated device from the crowd- Glen’s Nokia phone, specifically. Simmons makes a geologically-confused comment. When this is pointed out by Maddie, Mr. Secretary hushes her, simply saying that Simmons is a strange man. The tank is locked down, and then the show starts.

Cube™ energies are shot into the tank, and the phone explodes into life, transforming into a gorilla-shaped gremlin creature. Happy birthday, little dude!

Little dude starts shooting at the tank walls, cracking the glass until Simmons pulls the trigger and ends it. Happy deathday, little dude!

The Decepticons are making tracks towards the Hoover Dam, but Starscream- yeah, he’s in this now, don’t worry about it- arrives first, because he is a very fast jet. He transforms, showing off his ridiculous Dorito body, and fires on the base’s generators. The resulting explosions can be heard all the way down in the testing chamber, and Mr. Mustache calls upstairs to see what’s up. Looks like Megatron may be getting warmed up, seeing as his ice bath has been cut off. Lennox asks if there’s an arms room in Sector Seven, which sort of feels like asking a bakery if they have any flour.

Frenzy has entered the room that houses the controls for the cryo-stasis and set that whole system to “no, thank you”.

Mr. Mustache runs through the base, screaming for everyone to get to the Megatron chamber. Off in the distance, the Autobots approach. Could probably used some fliers on your team, huh Optimus?

Back with Frenzy, he’s decided to just straight-up raise Megatron’s core temperature directly. Hope he doesn’t do it too fast; rewarming hypothermia victims recklessly can do some serious damage.

Outside of the base, Lennox and the boys are loading up with weaponry, along with what’s the entirety of Sector Seven′s cannon-fodder department. Oh, and all the main cast. Yep, just got a couple of teenagers chillin’ in the munitions room.

Sam wants Simmons to take him to his car- he hasn’t used Bumblebee’s name in a hot minute, not sure what’s up with that- even though Simmons is currently busy loading a very large gun. Simmons doesn’t want to do that, because he’s got no idea if what Sam mentioned earlier is even true, and he doesn’t want to pin the fate of humanity on a single Camaro. Lennox takes this opportunity to tackle Simmons, despite likely not knowing that Bumblebee is one of the “good guys”. A Sector Seven guy very much doesn’t like that, and points a gun at Lennox, which prompts all of his guys to also start threatening folks with guns.

Mr. Mustache walks in on the scene, but doesn’t do anything, since he isn’t armed and knows better than to tangle with someone who’s packing. Simmons tries to intimidate Lennox, because he must have missed the day of boot camp where they tell you that guns kill people. Lennox is fully committed to shooting this dude in the lungs before Mr. Secretary suggests he give the people what they want, before things get ugly.

Simmons takes everyone to the robot torture department of Sector Seven, where they are still smoking Bumblebee. Geez, you’d think they’d have something in place for if they ever came across another giant robot after Megatron, but I guess not. The gang gets everyone to stop smoking Bumblebee, which allows him to stop moose-screaming and strongly consider murdering everyone involved with his forced captivity. Unfortunately, revenge with have to wait, as we’ve still got to deal with the AllSpark, and the fact that the Decepticons are here.

They take Bumblebee to the AllSpark, where he makes direct contact the thing, causing the AllSpark to transform, compacting itself down into a far more reasonable size that Bumblebee can carry in one hand. It doesn’t seem to weigh more than a grown adult, if his body language is saying anything. I’d make a joke about the conservation of mass being ignored, but since this is Transformers, I can’t really say much. Conservation of mass doesn’t exist for this franchise.

Bumblebee would really like to get this show on the road, and Lennox agrees, quickly formulating a plan to get away from Megatron and taking the AllSpark to Mission City, which is relatively close to their current location, so that they can hide it there.

Lennox, I know this plan is a first draft, and we don’t have a ton of time for revisions, but the whole point of building a whole-ass dam around the Cube™ was because it was very difficult to hide, given its magical MacGuffin powers. Regardless of this flaw, Mr. Secretary agrees. Lennox also asks that the Air Force be involved in this, I guess because the U.S. military wanted more screentime.

Of course, that whole “global blackout” thing is still going on, so we’re going to have to get creative with how we’re going to contact the Air Force. Mr. Secretary and Simmons make a break for the WWII-era radio Sector Seven has, while Lennox and the boys head out to shoot things, and Mikaela and Sam hop into Bumblebee with the Cube™.

This is about the point that Megatron wakes up. The first thing he does is introduce himself, which I thought was very polite of him. Then he breaks out his flail and starts bashing shit around. Not so polite, that.

Over with Bumblebee, we’re shown that the AllSpark, all-powerful object that can create life and is the whole reason this conflict is even happening, is just chillin’ in the back seat by itself. It’s not even buckled up.

Megatron escapes the base, and it’s actually super easy. He just transforms, goes through the tunnel, and he’s free. I feel like we could have at least attempted some security measures for in case the cryo-stasis failed, given that we’ve had this dude in containment for the last 70-something years, but okay.

Starscream comes over to say hi to his boss, not that Megatron gives a shit. He just wants to know where that fucking Cube™ is. When Starscream tells him that the humans have it, Megatron makes a comment about how Starscream has failed him yet again. This is their first interaction in this movie, and Starscream’s been in the story for a grand total of five minutes at this point. I know that this is a reference to their dynamic in just about every installment of the franchise up to this point, but it doesn’t feel earned in the slightest. Even if it’s going to be expanded upon in future sequels, this is a shit-tier way to set their (awful) relationship up.

Not that anyone should ever bank on getting a sequel anyway, but that’s a discussion for another time.

Megatron tells Starscream to retrieve the AllSpark, and then we cut over to the radio plotline. The radio, which is so cobweb-covered I feel like Sector Seven needs to have a serious discussion with their custodial staff, has its nobs and buttons fiddled with by Simmons until it crackles to life. But where are the microphones? Everyone starts looking for the mics, as Simmons pushes Glen into the seat, I guess because hacking modern computers and using Depression-era radio tech are similar enough.

Maddie asks Glen if he can hotwire a 90′s-era computer to transmit a tone through the radio, so that they can send a Morse code message to the Air Force. Which sounds ridiculous to me, but I don’t know enough about radios or computers to know if that sort of thing would be possible. Maybe it’s fine. Or maybe it’s Hollywood bullshit. Who knows?

Back over with Bumblebee, we get a bunch of car commercial shots, of both him and the other Autobots. Aww, the gang’s back together again! Nobody tell Bumblebee that Optimus was completely cool with leaving him to his fate.

Optimus and the gang whip around to join the convoy, and everyone makes their way towards Mission City.

Back at the radio subplot, someone’s bangin’ on the door, trying to get in. The others try to block the intruder, while Glen does his hacking stuff. Mr. Secretary breaks a case and pulls out a gun that’s about as old as he is.

Glen gets the computer working, and Mr. Secretary gives him the Super Secret Military Codewords™ to use to talk to the Air Force. While he does that, Simmons finds a flamethrower and starts burning Frenzy as he attempts to enter the room. The Air Force receives the message for an air strike. Oh, goody.

Over with the convoy, it appears that the Autobots and Lennox’s boys are being pursued by the Decepticons. It’s difficult to tell, seeing as the cameras have gone full Bay-mode, but I’m guessing that’s what’s up. One of the Decepticons flips over a minivan, likely killing a family of five. another causes a multi-car pileup.

Bonecrusher transforms, then Optimus transforms. Bonecrusher iceskates across the highway, slamming into a bus so hard it just straight-up explodes. He is on fire. He tackles Optimus, and they proceed to fall off the side of the raised highway they’re on. Then they beat the shit out of each other, until Optimus decapitates Bonecrusher with his arm-sword.

Yeah, space dad is a little intense in the Bayverse.

Back at Sector Seven, Frenzy’s decided to leave the door alone, and instead is crawling through the ventilation shaft. Mr. Secretary and Simmons fire off shots into the duct above them, as if bullets would do anything against this nasty little pile of needles.

Frenzy bursts through the bottom of the duct and crash-lands into a glass case, taking cover behind a pillar and fires on the humans on the other side of the room. While this shootout is happening, Glen receives a response from the Air Force, just in time for Frenzy to accidentally decapitate himself with one of his own spinning blades of death. This time, he does not survive losing his head.

The Air Force will be sending fighter planes to Mission City, and to establish this, we get several shots of what some might call “military porn.”

Over in the city, the convoy has arrived. Lennox hands several short-wave radios over to Epps, telling him to use them to direct the Air Force when they arrive, so they can take the AllSpark... somewhere, I guess. Above, an F-22 zooms across the sky. It is not one of the Air Force’s F-22s.

Ironhide recognizes Starscream, and gets ready to throw down. Bumblebee grabs a nearby Furby truck and hoists it up to use as a shield. This marginally works, as the missile that hits the truck doesn’t immediately kill him, though it probably did all those Furbies inside.

The resulting explosion throws all the humans around, Mikaela getting weird heaven lighting as she lies unconscious on the pavement. Sam gets it too, though, so I suppose I can’t complain too much about this particular shot. They touch hands. I really wish that I could take this moment of vulnerability as being anything other than an attempt to set up a romance between these two teens who have known each other for maybe half a week. This movie has so starved me of genuine human interaction I'm jumping at the smallest of scraps.

Bumblebee actually didn’t get out of that missile-strike unscathed, his legs having been blown off. All those Furbies died for nothing. Tragic. Sam asks Bumblebee if he’s alright, and immediately tells him to get up. Sam then remembers that Bumblebee’s legs are off, so he yells for Ratchet.

Over with Lennox and Epps, they’ve realized that the plane they saw wasn’t one of theirs. Which, you know, has already been established, but points for getting caught up, fellas. Sam is crying and still telling Bumblebee to get up. Bumblebee is dragging himself across the pavement and whimpering. It’s awful. Where the fuck is Ratchet? This is basically the only reason he’s in this film, and he’s nowhere to be found.

The actual Air Force calls on the radio, asking for their location. Brawl, who is a tank, starts firing on Lennox’s gang. Jazz and Ratchet race through the city streets. How they were separated from the rest of the team is anyone’s guess.

Sam takes a little sit on the pavement to be with Bumblebee, while Mikaela decides to problem-solve and heads for a nearby tow truck. Bumblebee hands Sam the Cube™ because, as the designated protagonist, it’s his job to handle it in the climax of the film.

Ironhide is shot at several times by Brawl, narrowly avoiding being hit each time. This, of course, means that the people he drives by in this shot are almost assuredly dead, since they’re right next to the explosions. He transforms and does a flip, as the film goes slow-mo on a shot of a woman in a low-cut dress watching him flip. She screams. Ironhide screams. I scream, though probably for a different reason.

Jazz jumps on Brawl, managing to kick off a couple pieces of kibble before Brawl grabs him and throws him into the side of a building. Ironhide, Optimus, and Ratchet descend on Brawl, and so does Lennox’s team, Brawl losing a hand and getting thrown into his own building as a result.

Mikaela breaks into the tow truck and starts to hotwire that shit. Wow, a relevant back story that culminates in her being able to save the day, thus completing her arc and staying on-theme for her character. Why isn’t Mikaela the protagonist again?

Oh, right, because ~girl~.

Megatron lands in a nearby alleyway, and Ratchet, knowing this dude is bad news, tells everyone to head for the hills. Jazz isn’t fast enough, however, and gets shot for his troubles.

Mikaela drives the truck over to Sam, who is still sitting there with the Cube™, and tells him to get his ass in gear.

Jazz gets taken to the top of a nearby building and is ripped in two by Megatron, who acts like a bird of prey the whole sequence. Down on the ground, Brawl is starting to get back up from his smackdown. Blackout appears on a nearby skyscraper. Things are looking grim for humanity.

Mikaela and Sam hook Bumblebee up to the tow line as Lennox approaches them. Sam has left the AllSpark out of his line of sight, like a fool. Despite seeing this, Lennox still gives him the flare to let the military know where to pick up the AllSpark. Doesn’t even acknowledge Mikaela. He tells Sam to head for the white building with statues on top of it and set the flare on top of the roof. Lennox can’t leave his men, because he’s the head of his operation. Why he can’t send literally anyone else who isn’t a 16 year-old boy isn’t made clear.

Sam really doesn’t want to do this, probably because he’s a child, but Lennox has recruited him to the military against his will, so he must. Lennox then attempts to make Mikaela leave for her own good, but she tells him to fuck off, because she’s gonna save Bumblebee. Clearly, this is a win for feminism.

Epps radios the choppers coming from the Air Force to let them know they’ll be picking up a package from a teenager, thus locking Sam into the job. Ironhide and Ratchet vow to protect Sam from the Decepticons on his way to the pickup point. Not one single person has pointed out how fucked up this is.

Sam starts to run off, when Mikaela stops him to let him know that she’s glad she got in the car with him roughly an hour ago. They don’t kiss goodbye, which, honestly? Good. This fucking movie hasn’t earned that. Sam for sure hasn’t earned that, even if he did clear her juvie record. No word on that having actually been done, by the way. Sam never got confirmation, and I feel like he’s not really the type to follow up on things.

Brawl fires off some shots and makes things explode. Ratchet and Ironhide provide cover fire as Sam sprints down the road. Yep, they’re making this idiot WALK to the pickup point. Sure hope the elevators are working today, otherwise this is going to take forever.

Sam carries the AllSpark like a football, and in a better movie, this would have been foreshadowed by Sam having actually been a football player prior to the events of the film, perhaps removed from the team for some character flaw he’s since grown from/accepted. However, this is Bayverse, and well, men don’t have to justify their existence in the story with things like themes and having even an ounce of thought put into their character.

Back with Mikaela, Lennox has refused to learn her name, calling her “girl” as he screams at her to get Bumblebee hooked up to the tow truck. Which she was already doing when he got here. Lennox, dude, you’ve got a daughter now, you’re super extra not allowed to treat women like this.

Optimus Prime pulls through an alleyway and crashes into a pile of garbage. I can forgive him being late, seeing as he is a big rig, and probably had to take the long way into town so he didn’t get stuck in too-low tunnels. Don’t worry about how we briefly saw him during the Brawl take-down. This is his for real entrance into the climax.

He whips around and transforms, ready to throw the fuck down. Megatron spots him from his perch and descends.

Y’know.

Like a vast, predatory bird.

Megatron shoots at Optimus in his alt-mode, and Optimus catches him like a frisbee. Unfortunately for Optimus, it would appear that the horsepower on a Cybertronian flightcraft is hella intense, and he’s carried away. The two of them crash through an office building, then roll around in the streets punching each other in the face, debating the worth of humanity as they do so. Wish I actually gave a shit about either of these people, but alas! The film spent most of its runtime objectifying women and insulting minorities. I know nothing about Optimus, and even less about Megatron.

Megatron transforms his arms into a laser gun, and Optimus does the same. They shoot at each other. Optimus gets thrown into a building, then lands on the sidewalk below, definitely crushing a dude underneath him, but I guess we didn’t check that the shot was clear for where the CGI was gonna go, so he’s fine.

Sam’s still running through the streets, while Blackout murders, like, so many people behind him. Starscream lands in front of Sam, running into roughly 30 cars as he skids to a halt. Ratchet and Ironhide fire on him, as Sam takes a breather behind a car. Starscream transforms and blasts off. He was here for about 15 seconds. Sam begins running again.

Megatron is now following Sam, because he wants that Cube™. Sam is hit by a car- not an evil one, just a regular car- and trips. The impact makes the AllSpark activate, which grants several machines in the vicinity the gift of life, including the car full of bitchy women that just hit Sam, who are upset that hitting a human being might have scratched the paint.

I get it, you hate women, can we PLEASE stop beating this dead horse?

Sam finally gets to the pickup building, which turns out to be abandoned and fenced off. Good thing the gate was open, otherwise things could get really complicated. He heads inside, Megatron crashing through a floor-to-ceiling window shortly behind him. Megatron makes the claim that he can smell where Sam is. I’m going to choose to believe that he isn’t lying here, since Ratchet did something similar earlier.

Sam finds the stairs, and Megatron calls him a slur.

He doesn’t, really, but the voice modulation certainly makes it sound that way.

While this is happening, Mikaela is driving the tow truck down an alley, dragging Bumblebee behind her with the tow cable. She stops for a moment to have a short breakdown, seeing as she is a teenager in what is currently a warzone.

Sam is still running up the stairs. Outside, the military shoots at one of the Decepticons. It is, of course, doing absolutely nothing to the giant metal space robot. Mikaela concludes her moment, looking back at Bumblebee, who gives her the okay to keep going with dragging his ass across the pavement. She whips the truck around and tells Bumblebee “I’ll drive, you shoot.”

Mikaela then proceeds to speed down a main road of this sizable city backwards, running into cars and more or less shoving Bumblebee along to his destination.

The military has finally realized that their efforts have been pointless, but it’s okay because Bumblebee is here with his superior firepower. Bumblebee proceeds to shoot Brawl in the chest, which kills him. After this, he tries to act cute, lifting up his battle mask in a very “did I do that?” way, as if he’s not the same guy who ripped Barricade apart earlier.

Sam, meanwhile, has finally reached the top of this dilapidated building. Helicopters are approaching his location, but will they make it to him before Megatron does? Honestly, I’d be more worried about Starscream on the building just due East.

Sam is just about to hand the AllSpark over, when Starscream fires at the ‘copter, causing it to crash and nearly chop Sam to pieces. Optimus Prime runs towards the scene, on a roof that I refuse to believe could actually support him. Megatron punches thought the roof from the bottom and asks Sam some philosophical questions. Sam can’t answer, given that he’s hiding on the edge of this building, his flimsy grip on one of the angel statues being the only thing keeping him from falling.

Megatron tells him to give him the AllSpark, and in exchange he might not kill him immediately. Sam tells him to fuck off, and Megatron flails the chunk of building he was hanging on to, causing Sam to fall to his death, thus ending the film.

I’m lying to you. Michael Bay is making me into a liar.

No, Sam is, instead, caught by Optimus, very likely breaking several ribs on impact. This is the point where I realize that they’ve given Optimus fingernails. Sam clings to him like a baby koala, as Optimus parkours down the sides of two buildings, Megatron in pursuit. Megatron actually lands on Optimus 2/3rds of the way down, causing the both of them to fall onto the pavement below. How Sam survives this is a mystery.

Megatron recovers from the fall first, flicking a human away from him for having the audacity to exist in his space. The flicked person hits a car, and is almost assuredly dead. At least, I sure hope so, given that this is the director cameo by the Bayman himself.

Feminist icon Megatron?

Feminist icon Megatron.

Optimus comments on the fact that Sam almost fucking died to get the AllSpark out of dodge, and we get the return of “No Sacrifice, No Victory”. Which, I mean, I guess he’s allowed to say that, since he’s actually had to do something that warranted it. His dad doesn’t get to, though.

Optimus then tells this teenage boy, who has already had a hell of a day, to kill him by shoving the AllSpark into his robot-soul-heart, should he be unable to defeat Megatron.

I dunno, I just feel like it’s a bit of an ask.

Sam climbs off of Optimus so the Prime and Megatron can rumble. He runs through the ruined infrastructure of the city, so he’s less likely to be crushed. Optimus tells Megatron to square the fuck up, stating that “one shall stand, one shall fall.”

Then he gets ragdolled around a bunch, so maybe he should have saved the talk for later in the game.

The military is running around some more, stopping in an alley to see Blackout transform to root mode. Yes, the goo-goo eyes were indeed made by several members of the watch party that started this whole thing. People went wild for Rotor-Cape Johnson.

The fighter jets from the US military are arriving in a minute. Epps warns them to aim for the robots that aren’t evil. Lennox and the gang spread out, reminding each other to aim for the underboob, since Transformers’ armor is weak there. Epps marks Blackout with a little green light, which Blackout almost immediately notices. Blackout fires on the military.

Lennox has stolen a motorcycle and is driving through the streets to circle back around and jump off of the bike, sliding on his back to shoot Blackout directly in his underboob. Wonder what his uniform is rated for for road rash.

Sam is watching as Optimus gets his ass handed to him. Up in the sky, Starscream commits identity theft, and then attacks the Air Force. The Air Force can multitask however, and light Megatron the fuck up. Sam has, for some reason, come out of hiding, and Megatron uses this to his advantage, trying to take the AllSpark from him.

Optimus tells Sam to put the AllSpark in his chest, but Sam has a better idea. He shoves it into Megatron’s chest, which has been basically shot open at this point. Megatron makes a Space Invader noise, convulses a bit, then falls over dead.

Congrats on your first murder, Sam.

Optimus tells Megatron’s corpse that he got what was coming to him, then implies that they’re brothers. What flavor of brother isn’t established, but neither was basically anything between the two main faces of the franchise in this film, so it’s fine.

Ironhide walks up holding the two halves of Jazz. Optimus informs Sam that he now has a life-debt to this child. Whether or not Sam is absorbing any information at this point is up in the air. Mikaela shows up, with Bumblebee in tow.

In tow.

In tow-

Sam stares at her blankly. Mikaela stares back, making the pretty girl face. Man, what a great dynamic these two have.

Jazz is dead. That sucks. Optimus is handed his corpse to hold, while he thanks his new friends for helping out.

Then Bumblebee talks and he’s fucKING BRITISH.

Sam is obviously shocked by the fact that Bumblebee is British able to talk now, since not talking has been his whole thing up to this point. Optimus doesn’t let it phase him. Neither does Ratchet, despite having been working on Bumblebee’s throat injury for centuries at this point.

Bumblebee wants to stay on Earth with Sam. Optimus is just like whatever. Sam agrees to have a sweet Camaro from outer space.

Optimus pulls what is left of the AllSpark out of Megatron’s chest. I’m sure that’s not a setup for potential conflicts, not in the slightest.

Over in Washington, D.C., the US President has ordered Sector Seven be terminated, and all the Transformer corpses be disposed of. And by “disposed of” they mean “thrown into the ocean.” Dang, sure hope Earth signed some sort of agreement with the Transformers so that they never come to Earth again. You know, just be proactive about our galactic safety.

The Linkin Park kicks on, as Optimus gives us our bookend narration, telling us what the Autobots plan to do now that their race is at a genological dead end. As he does, we see Lennox reunite with his wife and child, who I had genuinely forgotten were in this movie.

Optimus is pretty chill with Cybertron dying out, because now they know about Earth. We get a shot of Sam and Mikaela making out, a shot that becomes more and more horrifying the further they zoom out, because they’re making out on top of Bumblebee. Who they KNOW is a sentient creature at this point.

And then it gets even worse, because the shot changes, and oh hey! Turns out that the rest of the Autobots were just chillin’ off to the side while this went down. Optimus continues his monologue, just walking around in his root mode as he tells all of Makeout Point how they’re “robots in disguise” now.

The monologue is actually a transmission he’s sending out into space, inviting any of his leftover pals to come kick it on Earth with them, because Earth is pretty cool.

And that’s where they leave us.

IT TOOK THREE PEOPLE TO WRITE THIS SCHLOCK.

So. Bayverse 1. A film showcasing xenophobia, misogyny, and toxic nationalism. It’s rough. Is it the worst film I’ve ever seen? Not even close, but it’s bad, and it was a huge deal at the time of release. Everyone was seeing it, everyone knew the actors and robots, everyone had a scene that they liked. Everyone was exposed to Bayverse, and as a result, a lot of people entered the Transformers franchise thinking that it was all like this.

And really, how far off would they have been in 2007?

When a franchise refuses to introduce female characters until years after being established, when all those female characters have the exact same body type, when a franchise hires misogynists to write stories, when it allows shit like “Prime’s Rib!” to be published- no wonder Michael Bay was approached to direct.

What a mess.

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

COMING SOON:

TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN (2009) - MEGAN FOX I AM SO FUCKING SORRY

TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON (2011) - WILL YOU JUST STAY DEAD

TRANSFORMERS: AGE OF EXTINCTION (2014) - SHUT UP ABOUT THE LAW SHUT UP ABOUT THE LAW

TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT (2017) - ACTUALLY, FUCK CONTINUITY

[beanfic]

Apparition Antics

Kae & Sav’s Spooky Special | Masterlist

Warnings: Paranormal activity & some angst

Word Count: 10346

Author’s Note: Here it is! The final part to Kae and I’s spooky special!! This chapter is a long one but that's because it's filled with SO MUCH SPOOKYNESS! Oh, also! Happy Halloween, frens :) Hope you enjoy!!

Tyler’s POV

My alarm played softly from my bedside table, lulling me out of the light sleep that I had been in. Sunlight was just beginning to filter through the curtains, throwing bits of light on the covers around my feet. Suppressing a groan, I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the bedside table. My shoulders dropped in relief when the alarm finally came to a stop.

I dropped my phone down onto the covers, not yet wanting to get out of bed and start the morning. Eight in the morning was much earlier than I was used to waking up, and every part of my body was screaming to stay under my warm covers and go back to bed. My eyes had just started to flutter close when I snapped them open again and pushed myself to a sitting position. There was a strict schedule that we had to follow today, and I wasn’t about to let it be ruined because I wanted to stay in bed just a little longer.

My brain slowly started to wake up as I went through the motions of my morning routine. By the time that I finished brushing my teeth, the temptation to get back in bed had finally subsided. After one last glance in the mirror, I flipped off the light and shuffled my way down the hall to wake up Josh and Y/N.

I stopped outside the door and held my breath, listening carefully for any quiet conversations that I had the potential of interrupting. The only thing I could hear was Josh snoring, so I slowly pushed open the door and peeked my head inside.

My jaw dropped the second that my eyes landed on the two of them. Y/N was pressed up against Josh with their head buried in the crook of his neck, their limbs all tangled up together. They looked so content curled up next to one another that there was no way I could wake them up right now. It would have to wait until after breakfast was ready.

I quietly slipped back out of the room and shut the door behind me, my head still reeling from what I had just seen. A million questions were running through my mind as I walked into the kitchen, but I knew I would have to wait for one of them to wake up before I got any answers. For the time being, all I could do was focus on making pancakes.

The hardwood floors of the kitchen were cold under my feet as I stood over the counter, mixing up pancake batter. It was a recipe Y/N had taught me, way back when we had just become friends and they still lived in Cleveland. They had stayed over one night after a show and the next morning we made pancakes together and had our first real bonding experience. I had been using the recipe ever since, though it was mostly reserved for special occasions like today.

The pan was just beginning to heat up when a door in the hallway creaked. I paused and listened, trying to determine if it was someone waking up or someone breaking into the house. When Josh shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later with hair sticking out at all angles and a shirt that hadn’t been on him ten minutes ago, I relaxed and went back to doing what I previously had been.

“Good morning,” I smiled, pouring the first of many pancakes into the pan.

“Happy Halloween,” he said as he took a seat in one of the stools.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“Better than I thought I would,” he laughed. 

“Did you sleep well last night?” I was barely able to contain my knowing smile.

“Yeah, I did, actually.”

There was a pause in conversation as I checked the underside of the pancake. Josh was idly drumming his fingers on the counter as I did so.

“Ok, I need to ask,” I finally said, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. “What happened last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Josh. I saw you and Y/N this morning all cuddled up in bed.”

“You did?” His expression was shocked at first, but it was quickly overtaken by a shy smile.

“Yeah. I was coming to wake you two up, but you looked so peaceful cuddled up that I decided to wait.”

Josh’s smile grew even more. “I was tempted to stay in bed, just so I could snuggle with them a little longer, but I heard you out here making breakfast and wanted to see if you needed any help.”

“Did you two fall asleep like that?”

“I think so. My memory is a little fuzzy, but I vaguely remember demanding that Y/N cuddle with me.”

“Charming,” I laughed as I flipped a pancake.

“I like to cuddle when I’m drunk! And I was cold.”

“You know I keep spare blankets in the closet in there, right?”

“Yeah, but, you know…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved my hand towards him. “Cuddling with the person you like is much more appealing, I get it.”

“Mmmhmm…”

“Did any feelings get confessed last night?” I asked as I plopped the finished pancake onto a plate.

“No. I didn’t want to do it while I was drunk. That’s not very romantic.”

“But you are going to finally tell Y/N how you feel?”

“Well, I don’t know. I was thinking maybe-”

The door in the hallway creaked and Josh’s mouth immediately snapped closed. His ears were already becoming a bright shade of red, despite the fact that Y/N hadn’t even entered the room yet.

“Good morning,” Y/N smiled as they walked into the room, doing a little spin as they did so.

“Someone is in a good mood this morning,” I laughed.

“I slept well last night and today is Halloween, how could I be in a bad mood?”

I turned and wiggled my eyebrows at Josh, who only rolled his eyes and cast them down towards the counter. Y/N was too busy fiddling with a string on their shirt to notice the exchange.

“Alright, now that you two are awake, we have to discuss the plan for today.”

“Let’s hear it, Ty.”

“So this place,” I started, unable to keep the giddy grin off my face. Y/N had left all the ghost hunting planning up to me, which meant they and Josh had no idea what we were in for. “It’s an old high school that was shut down in the 60s after a number of mysterious occurrences. There’s all sorts of reports of athletes getting hurt, teachers seeing and hearing unexplainable things after hours, and even furniture and posters being moved around overnight. For a while people thought it was just students messing around and a number of arrests were made, but it didn’t stop it from happening.”

“Can I have a pancake?” Y/N asked.

“Y/N!” I sighed as I flipped the pancake that was cooking. “I’m in the middle of my spooky story. But yes, you can have a pancake, You too, Josh.”

I allowed them each a moment to grab their pancakes and cover them in various toppings before I continued my story.

“Continuing on, mysterious sightings are still being reported in and around the building. One of the most common reports is seeing a shadowy figure with glowing eyes standing in the windows during sunset. Police have investigated the building on numerous occasions, but nothing and nobody is ever found. It’s supposed to be one of the most haunted places in Ohio.”

“And we’re going there?” Josh asked before stuffing his face with pancake.

“Yes.”

“I’m excited,” Y/N smiled. “I’ve always wanted to find a ghost.”

“I’m sure we’re going to see something scary tonight, ghost or not,” I answered. “And you two better take this seriously. I don’t want you messing around like you usually do.”

“You mean Y/N and I can’t sing for the ghosts this time?” Josh laughed.

“Exactly. I don’t want anything following me back to the house,” I said, pointing my spatula at him.

He held his hands up in defeat. “We’ll be serious, right, Y/N?”

“Serious,” they nodded.

“Good,” I smiled. “Tonight is a big night.”

*     *     *

“Is everything going to fit?” Y/N asked as they watched me try to stuff another box of supplies into the back of my car.

“We’ll probably have to put some of it in the backseat, but we can make it work.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up in an instant. “Shotgun!”

Josh, who was currently leaned halfway into the backseat while he arranged some stuff in his bag, suddenly stood up and shot Y/N a look. “Not fair!”

“Sorry, Josh, you were too slow,” they shrugged.

“But I have way longer legs than you! There’s no way I’m cramming into the backseat with all the ghost stuff.”

“You should have thought of that earlier.”

“Tyler,” Josh sighed. “Help me out here.”

“You two are adults, you can work this out between yourselves without me in the middle of it.”

“Come on, Josh, you always get shotgun because Tyler picks you up first. Can’t you let me have it just this once?”

“Not when we have a three-hour car ride!”

“What if you get it on the way home? Then you’ll have plenty of legroom while you sleep.”

“Legroom doesn’t matter when you’re asleep.”

Tired of listening to their bickering, I came up with an idea that would both put an end to the debate and help with my master plan. While they were too busy paying attention to one another, I grabbed a box of equipment and carried it over to the passenger side of the car. Both of their heads immediately whipped in my direction when they heard the door open.

“You know what? Fine,” I said, dramatically dropping the box into the front seat. “Neither of you get it.”

“But my legs!” Josh said.

I leaned down and scooted the chair all the way forward, then turned to Josh with a grin. “There, all the legroom you could possibly need.”

He mumbled something under his breath before going back to messing with his backpack. Y/N turned to me and raised their eyebrows, but I simply smiled and adjusted my beanie. They gave me a light shove as I walked past them to close the trunk, making me laugh.

“Alright, let’s get in the car and get out of here,” I announced.

Fifteen minutes later, we found ourselves in a parking lot outside of a Columbus Starbucks. I was currently trying to convince Y/N to go inside and order our drinks for us to avoid running the risk of getting recognized, but they were not having any part of it.

“I just don’t understand why I have to go in alone!” they huffed. “You don’t usually care about getting recognized, so why is it a big deal today?”

“I’m just worried about people potentially following us all the way out to the school. Please, Y/N, I’ll pay for your drink.”

They went quiet for a moment, obviously contemplating my offer. After a moment’s pause, they spoke again.

“Alright, fine. But I’m getting a venti.”

“Fair deal,” I said as I dug my wallet out of my pocket.

Y/N took our drink orders - and my money - before getting out of the car and walking into Starbucks, although not without shooting us a look as they did so. Once they were safely inside, I turned around so that I could get a better look at Josh.

“What were you going to say this morning before Y/N woke up?”

Josh’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“You know, I was asking you if you were finally going to tell them how you feel and you said you were thinking maybe something but then they woke up and interrupted you.”

“Oh, right. Um, well, I was just thinking that if the right moment comes up tonight… I might actually finally tell them how I feel.”

I tried my best to contain my visible excitement. “For real? Like, you’re not messing with me?”

His mouth curled up into a smile, “No, I’m not messing with you. I’m starting to think you may have actually been on to something this whole time with them feeling the same.”

“Finally! I told you I was being serious, Josh.”

“I know! I know. It’s just scary, you know? I don’t want to mess up the relationship I have with Y/N.”

“So I’ve heard,” I laughed quietly.

“Exactly,” he chuckled.

Y/N returned with our drinks a few minutes later and then we were back on the road. We had only been on the freeway for a few minutes when Josh pulled out some earbuds and plugged them into his phone.

“Want to listen?” he asked, passing one of them to Y/N.

“What? You two are listening to your own music back there?” I asked, glancing at them in the rearview mirror. “Who am I going to talk to?”

“Guess you shouldn’t have stuck both of us back here,” Y/N said with a satisfied smirk before taking a sip of their drink.

“Besides, we can still talk even with headphones in,” Josh chimed in.

“Yeah, whatever,” I sighed.

At least the drive was only a few hours. Then it would be time for the real fun to begin.

*     *     *

Your POV

You were woken up by Tyler cheerily announcing that you had arrived at your destination. The car shuddered to a stop and you slowly sat up, stretching out all the muscles that had grown tight from the weird position you were sleeping in. It hadn’t been your intention to fall asleep during the car ride, but between Josh’s music, the comfort of his shoulder, and the boys’ quiet conversation, you had been out in an instant.

Grass crunched beneath your feet as you got out of the car and joined the boys near the trunk. The sun was still high in the sky, but it wouldn’t be long before it sunk below the hills and cast all sorts of shadows across the place. You already didn’t like the look of it, between the shattered windows and crumbling bits of architecture. Despite your love of ghost hunting, you still had your hesitations about spending a night in this place.

“Is this legal?” you asked, noticing a nearby “No Trespassing” sign.

“I might have pulled some strings,” Tyler grunted as he grabbed more equipment.

“And by ‘pulled some strings’, do you mean paid someone off?”

He paused. “Maybe.”

You smiled and shook your head. Leave it to Tyler to pay someone off so that he could hunt ghosts that may or may not exist.

“Hey, I’m going to run inside and find a good place for us to set up headquarters. I’ll be back in a bit,” Tyler announced as he scooped up a flashlight.

“Be safe,” you said.

“I will.”

Tyler took off towards the building, leaving just you and Josh for the first time since last night. You were unsure of what to say, so you settled for looking through all the boxes Tyler had packed up to see what equipment he had decided was necessary.

“You missed Tyler’s comment about us sleeping together.”

“What?” you asked, whipping your head around to look at Josh. Your face was already burning from embarrassment. “What do you mean?”

“It was just a joke, since we slept in the same bed last night and then you fell asleep on my shoulder. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

“What an idiot,” you muttered, turning back to the box.

Josh didn’t say anything else. Out of the corner of your eye, you could just make out him rocking back and forth on his heels, hands dug deep into his pockets.

“Oh, um, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“About last night, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I was acting. I know it’s far from the first time you’ve dealt with me drunk, but I was on another level last night. Like, the cuddling and stuff. You didn’t have to do that.”

You stood up and leaned against the trunk of Tyler’s car. Josh was staring down at his feet, but met your eyes when he realized you were looking at him. His mouth briefly curled up into a smile.

“It wasn’t a big deal, Josh. Nothing happened that I was uncomfortable with and it was, uh, actually kind of-”

“Hey!” Tyler called. “I think I found a spot.”

You and Josh shared a look before picking up a box each and heading in Tyler’s direction.

“Nice, is what I was going to say,” you explained before Tyler was within earshot. “It was actually kind of nice.”

“Yeah,” Josh smiled. “I thought so too.”

“You guys aren’t going to believe this,” Tyler smiled as you walked up to him. “This place is crazy. Wait until you see all of it.”

You followed Tyler down a hallway, doing your best to take in all the sights while you still had sunlight coming in through the windows. Thankfully, the three of you only went a short distance until the hall opened up into a cafeteria. 

“This is our home base. What do you think?” Tyler asked, confidently walking closer to the center of the room. You and Josh, on the other hand, hung back a little.

Large windows at either end of the room illuminated the cafeteria, revealing every particle of dust that was currently floating through the air. Most of the tables had been overturned or shoved aside, although there were a few that remained upright and usable. A few posters still hung on bulletin boards around the room, though nearly every one had been ripped or shredded in some capacity. Just thinking about what this room would look like in the dark was enough to send a chill down your spine.

“Creepy,” you finally muttered. Josh nodded along with you.

“We can start setting stuff up along these tables right here,” Tyler said, ignoring your comment. “That should give us plenty of room for the lights and equipment.”

You waddled over to the table and set down the box of things you had been carrying. There was still plenty of boxes that needed to be transported from the car to inside, and you really weren’t looking forward to the multiple trips back and forth. At least you would have the boys to keep you company.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s get the rest of the stuff inside,” Tyler smiled before practically skipping his way back down the hallway. 

An hour later, all of the equipment was finally inside and mostly set up. You and Josh were making casual conversation while Tyler huddled over his equipment and made sure everything was running properly. The only other times you saw him this focused was when he was writing music.

“Ok, I think everything is ready to go,” he said, straightening up. “Why don’t we do a quick walkthrough of the school to get an idea of where everything is and where the best places for cameras are?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded.

“Josh, can you grab the map? It should be in that box right next to you.”

Josh turned around and dug through the box until he found the map Tyler was talking about. It was printed on what looked like a normal sheet of paper, but the back had Tyler’s handwriting all over it. You tried to get a glimpse of it, but Josh passed it off before you had a chance to make sense of any of it.

“What’s on the back, Ty?” you asked.

He flipped it over and looked at it, eyebrows furrowed, as if he had forgotten he ever wrote on it in the first place. “Just some notes, it looks like.” His mouth curled into a partial smile. “I can barely read it.”

You shook your head and grabbed a couple flashlights from the table, passing one off to Josh. He thanked you and immediately checked if the batteries were working.

“Lead the way, Tyler,” Josh said.

Your journey started down the hallway that you had entered the building from. A creepy feeling still lingered, but having a heavy flashlight in your hands helped to take away some of the edge. Josh was also staying close to you, so close, in fact, that your arms kept accidentally brushing up against each other. Thankfully, Tyler was too absorbed in locating good camera spots that he didn’t take notice.

This pattern continued for the next thirty minutes. You and Josh followed behind Tyler, occasionally offering your opinions on a spot for a camera, but mostly just trying to remember the layout of the building. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally get lost in one of the most haunted buildings in Ohio on the scariest day of the year. By the time that you returned to your “home base”, you were already having your reservations about tonight’s ghost hunting.

“Now that you’ve seen the entire building, what do you think?” Tyler asked. He was smiling, which was just about the furthest thing from what you felt like doing right now.

“If there’s anywhere we’re going to find ghosts in Ohio, it’s here,” you sighed. Josh nodded in agreement.

“You guys should probably go set up the cameras before it gets too dark. I can hang back and make sure we’re getting signal on all of them.”

“Did you bring the walkie talkies?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, they’re right here. Keep them on Channel 3 and whatever you do, don’t turn them off, ok?” You nodded as you turned on your walkie talkie and hooked it onto your jeans. Next to you, Josh did the same. “The cameras should be in that box over there. Make sure to let me know which one you’re setting up - the number is sharpied on the side - and then we can make sure the motion sensor is working.”

“Sounds good,” Josh said.

“Here’s the map of all the camera spots. Let me know if you have trouble finding any of them and I can try and direct you,” Tyler explained, hardly taking time to look up from one of his many laptops as he passed it to you. “Also try not to take too long, there’s a lot of stuff we still need to get ready.”

“We’ll be quick,” you added.

“And make sure to mark down where on the map each number is, just so we know.”

“Ty,” you laughed, “we’ve done this before, you don’t need to go over all the instructions every time.”

“Sorry,” he smiled. “Habit.”

“Ok, we’ll be back in a bit.”

Map and flashlight in hand, you and Josh headed off down the first hallway yet again. Your stomach was already flipping at the thought of spending the next half hour with Josh without Tyler’s interruptions, and for a moment you weren’t sure that you would be able to get any words out.

“I’m pretty sure he put the cameras in every remote corner of the school he could find,” you laughed, taking your first look at the map. “Look at this.”

Josh took the map from your hands, making sure to let his fingers brush up against yours. “You know Tyler, he likes to make sure that every inch of a place is being watched.”

“Yeah, but come on! The pool? That’s all the way at the other end of the school, but he also wants us to set one up by this window in the back corner.”

“Hey, it’s just an excuse for us to spend more time together, right?” Josh smiled at you.

You bit down on your lip, glad that the dim light inside was enough to mask most of your embarrassed expression. “Yeah, I suppose that’s a benefit.”

“Ok, I think the first camera spot is up here. You want to grab one of the ones from the box?”

You grabbed a camera from the box and passed it off to Josh, who then got it situated in the correct spot. While he worked on that, you radioed Tyler to let him know what was going on.

“Skeleton, come in,” you said, trying - and failing - to contain a smile at your code names.

“What’s up, Pumpkin?” he answered, voice warped by the walkie talkie.

“We’re setting up camera… what camera is it?”

“Three,” Josh grunted.

“Camera three at location one.”

“Alright, let me know when it’s on.”

You marked down camera three at location one on the map while you waited for Josh to finish setting things up.

“Done,” Josh sighed. “Camera is on.”

“Skeleton, come in.”

“I’m here.”

“Are we reading a signal on camera three?”

“We’re live. Can one of you wave an arm in front of it?”

“Josh?” you asked, turning to him.

Josh stepped away from you and closer to the camera, waving one of his arms slowly in front of it. 

“Alright, we’ve got a video feed. You can move on.”

“Alright. Pumpkin and Alien out.”

You tucked the walkie talkie back into its place on your jeans and fell into step with Josh, who was already beginning to slowly make his way down the hall. When you caught up to him, he took the map from the top of the box and looked over it.

“Where to next?” you asked.

“It looks like we go upstairs and down another hall. Or we could go downstairs, if we wanted to switch things up.”

You were about to answer his question when something behind you rustled. Your head whipped around and you scanned the entire area behind you with the flashlight, searching for what could have caused the noise. The two of you were seemingly alone in the hallway, so you took a deep breath and turned back around.

“You ok?” Josh asked.

“Did you not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just wound up.”

“I thought you weren’t scared of stuff like this?”

“I’m not.”

“Then why’d you jump at nothing?” he teased.

“I didn’t jump at nothing! There was a sound.”

“You know I’m going to protect you if we run into something or someone, right?”

“Yeah, because you’re so intimidating,” you smiled.

“Hey! I’m only not intimidating to you because you know me. I can be a scary guy.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Your eyes went wide. “No, no, please, Josh.”

“I thought you weren’t scared?” he grinned.

“Well, um,” you stammered. “Ok, fine, maybe I’m a little scared.”

Josh walked a little closer to you and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

After forty-five minutes of setting up cameras, you were finally on the last one, which just so happened to be the one by the old pool. You weren’t particularly looking forward to the walk it would take to get there, but you were glad that you had Josh to keep you company… and protected from anything that could be lurking in the shadows.

“It’s weird being back in a high school,” you said as you passed another set of lockers. “I think the scariest thing is all the memories it’s bringing up.”

“Did you have a positive high school experience?”

“It was ok. I wasn’t super popular or anything, but I had a good group of friends. Definitely not the best four years of my life or anything. What about you?”

Josh shrugged. “About the same. I was kind of a dorky kid in high school.”

“Same.”

“Did you… date… very many people?”

You turned to look at him, only to realize he was already looking at you. Too shy to make eye contact, you looked down to your feet.

“Not really. My type was too specific for any of the people that I went to high school with.”

“And what is your type?”

“Oh, you know,” you said, a smirk starting to appear on your lips, “people who are nice, aren’t afraid to be themselves, into music, have tattoos and piercings and colorful hair and all that.”

“So… me?” Josh laughed.

“Not everything is about you, Josh,” you joined his laughter as you bumped into his shoulder. “What about you?”

“I dated a couple people, but it was never anything serious.”

“I meant like… what’s your type?”

“Oh, um, right,” he rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I guess I like people who can make me laugh, they support me in whatever I do, aren’t afraid to be themselves, just someone cool, you know?”

You shifted the box, putting the weight onto your other hip for awhile and to alleviate some of the tension in your shoulders from the question you were about to ask. “Am I cool?”

Josh paused for a moment, “I think you’re the coolest person I know, Y/N.”

You nodded, unsure of how to respond to what he had said. He started to talk again, but before he could get anything out, your walkie talkies crackled.

“This is Skeleton, reporting in.”

Josh sighed as he grabbed the walkie talkie off his hip. “This is Alien. What do you need?”

“Are you two almost done? It’s getting lonely over here.” A pause. “And I’m hungry.”

“We’re going to set up the last camera by the old pool and then we’ll be back.”

“Ok, well hurry. Skeleton out.”

Josh shook his head as he hooked his walkie talkie back onto his jeans.

“If he wants it done faster, he could have helped us out,” he laughed.

“Agreed.”

You went quiet, internally hoping that Josh would once again bring up the conversation you had just been having, but when a minute of silence passed you figured that was wishful thinking. Maybe you had been reading too much into what he was saying.

“Is this it?” he asked as you approached another set of double doors.

“Looks like it,” you answered, nodding towards a sign to the side of the door that read “Pool”.

He started to pull the door open, but stopped halfway through and turned to you. “Stay close to me, ok? I don’t like this room.”

You nodded and followed him into the room. As soon as you stepped over the threshold, he reached back and rested a hand on your arm.

“I’m here,” you said.

“Let’s get in and out of here as fast as we can.”

“Sounds good.”

You followed Josh further into the room, trying to ignore the eerie way that the room echoed with each step that you took. The single camera rattling in the box that you were carrying didn’t do much to help the atmosphere, either. Even with sunlight shining in through the dusty windows, this room felt undeniably creepier than all the rest.

“Where did Tyler want the camera?” Josh asked.

“The far corner, right above the bleachers.”

“Like, on the other side of the room?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Josh sighed and walked in that direction. You took a couple big steps to catch up to him and lightly bumped up against him. He turned towards you and smiled, reassured by your presence.

“Maybe you’re not the one who’s going to have to do the protecting,” you grinned.

“Maybe,” he laughed quietly. “I just hope that none of us have to protect anyone.”

“Agreed.”

Josh grabbed the camera from the box and went through the motions of setting it up while you radioed Tyler to let him know what was going on. As soon as you got the ok, you and Josh started to head back towards home base.

You had only made it about halfway along the pool when something crashed at the far side of the room. Both you and Josh turned around in a panic, frantically searching for the source of the noise, but there was nothing in sight.

“Let’s get out of here,” Josh said.

Before you had a chance to answer, he had clumsily wrapped his free hand around your flashlight hand and was starting to pull you towards the exit. Trying your best not to trip over your feet, you followed after him. Your heart was still pounding from whatever you had heard and having Josh’s hands wrapped around yours was only making it beat even harder.

You were relieved when you finally crashed through the doors and back into the hallway. Although it wouldn’t do much to actually protect you if there was something in the pool room, it felt nice to have a set of doors between you. With a heaving chest, you leaned back against a bank of lockers and looked to Josh.

“That was terrifying,” you sighed.

“Are you ok?” Josh asked, resting a hand on your arm. “I didn’t mean to drag you out of there, it just kind of happened.”

He stepped closer, leaving only about a foot of space in between you. You looked up at him, taking in what you could of his features in the dim light.

“I’m ok. Just a bit shaken up.”

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.” Josh’s mouth just barely curled up into a smile.

He started to move closer, until his breath was fanning out across your face. Your heart had returned to pounding in your chest, but now it was for an entirely different reason. Was this really happening? Were you really about to kiss Josh in some abandoned high school that Tyler was taking you ghost hunting in?

Just as your eyes were about to flutter closed, you noticed a blinking light out of the corner of your eye. In a moment of panic, you put a hand on Josh’s chest and shoved him away as gently as you could. He stepped back immediately, stumbling over his words and avoiding eye contact with you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I- thought, um, maybe that- I didn’t-”

“Josh,” you whispered. “It’s fine. It’s just…” you nodded towards the camera, hopefully subtly enough that Tyler wouldn’t catch it on the off chance that he was looking at it right now. Josh’s shoulders immediately dropped and he ran a hand through his hair.

“You’d think for someone who wanted us together so badly, he wouldn’t make it so impossible to get a moment alone.”

“Honestly,” you giggled.

“We might as well get back to him before he throws a fit.”

You nodded and tried to mask the disappointment that your kiss would have to wait until later. “Good idea.”

Josh started to walk down the hall and you fell into step with him, feeling a bit more confident about “accidentally” bumping into him now and again. Each time you did, you were met with a smile from Josh and a retaliation. By the time you made it back to your home base, it had almost become a game between you two.

“Ok, wait, before we go in there,” Josh said, stopping you a short distance from the archway that led to the cafeteria. “Are we going to tell him what happened?”

“With the crash? Or the… other thing?”

“The other thing,” Josh smiled.

“Do you think he saw?”

“I have no idea, but he’ll probably immediately make a comment if he did. He doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut about that stuff,” he laughed.

“Ok, true. I say we wait for him to bring it up. You know, payback for all the teasing.”

“This is why I like you.”

With one final nod to each other, you walked back into the home base. Tyler immediately looked up from his computers and over at you.

“I was wondering when you were coming back! You set up that last camera forever ago.”

“There was a lot of ground to cover!” you retorted.

“Uh huh,” Tyler said, shooting the two of you a look.

“Don’t be jealous because we were out having fun,” Josh smiled as he took a seat across from Tyler.

“Who’s to say I wasn’t having fun here?” Tyler stood up straighter and crossed his arms.

“Alright, you two,” you sighed as you tossed the empty box into a corner. “Why don’t we figure out what food to get before you two start arguing too much.”

“We’re not arguing,” Tyler chimed in. “I’m just saying that I had fun here!”

Josh started to open his mouth, but you shot him a look and he quieted down again. This put a satisfied smirk on Tyler’s face, so you gave him a look for good measure too.

“Didn’t one of you mention a Taco Bell just a few minutes away? How does that sound?” you asked.

“Did you have to ask?” Tyler smiled.

“Yeah, Tyler wrote a whole song about it,” Josh smirked.

“Hey! I thought we made a rule that we don’t talk about that.”

“Consider it payback.”

“Ok, who’s going to get the food?” you asked, ignoring their bickering. “Because after that whole Starbucks ordeal today, it’s not going to be me.”

“I can go,” Josh said, already standing up again. “Just let me know what you want.”

The next few minutes were spent deciding what food to get and making sure that Josh had it all written down in his phone so he wouldn’t forget. Once that was settled, Tyler tossed him his keys and Josh wandered off down the hall, still carrying a flashlight in his hand. The sun was rapidly setting and you were trying to enjoy the little bit of light you had left.

“You and Josh seem to be awful friendly,” Tyler said, his eyes never leaving the computer.

Your entire body tensed at his words and you were suddenly very glad that his focus was elsewhere. He had yet to fess up to seeing you and Josh almost kiss on camera, but it wasn’t unlike Tyler to hold onto information until an opportune moment.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You two were pretty tense with each other this morning, aside from you falling asleep on him in the car. It’s nice to see you two getting along again.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?” Tyler asked, finally looking up from his laptop.

You avoided eye contact, afraid it would give too much information away. If Tyler was asking if you were going to confess, he definitely hadn’t seen what happened between you and Josh. That, or he was playing the long con.

You put on your best plain expression and finally met Tyler’s eyes. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I probably wouldn’t today, just because it’s Halloween and all.”

“What does Halloween have to do with it?”

“Don’t you think it’s kinda dorky to confess your feelings on Halloween? Like, that would be our anniversary forever.”

“Dorky? It’s awesome,” Tyler smiled. “Your anniversary would be on the spookiest day of the year.”

“I guess?”

“But, more importantly, you are going to tell him at some point?”

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t. It’s pretty clear that he feels the same now.”

“And to think, just a few days ago you were telling me you and Josh were nothing more than friends.”

“A lot has changed since then!” you said, unintentionally raising your voice. It echoed a little across the room. “Two days ago I hadn’t held his hand during a scary movie or spent an entire night with him complimenting me or slept in the same bed as him or almost-” you caught yourself just in time to avoid telling Tyler the one thing you didn’t want him to know. He picked up on your change in demeanor.

“Almost what?” he asked.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Almost what, Y/N? Tell me.”

“I’m not going to tell you, Ty.”

“Please? I won’t tell Josh you told me.”

“I don’t care what Josh knows. I don’t want you to know.”

“Don’t want me to know what?” Tyler said. He was growing more desperate.

“No.”

“Something did happen at my house, didn’t it? What did you two do last night?”

“Nothing! Nothing happened.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar.”

“I’m not lying! Nothing happened last night.”

“Today?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Tyler, can we just drop this please?”

Tyler finally calmed down. It wasn’t often that you used his full name, which let him know how serious you were about not discussing this any further. He directed his attention back to his laptops, and after a bit of silence offered for you to come check out what he was seeing on the cameras, which wasn’t much.

At least, for now.

*     *     *

Josh’s POV

“What time is it?” Y/N asked as they pulled on a headlamp.

“Two in the morning. Perfect time to start ghost hunting,” Tyler grinned as he did the same.

“Yeah, perfect,” I said, taking a quick glance around the room.

Although Y/N and Tyler were big on ghost hunting, I always had my reservations when it came to adventures like this. My anxiety was bad enough as it was, and walking around dark buildings trying to find things that could potentially hurt us didn’t exactly do much to help it. Regardless, I knew how much it meant to the two of them to have me come along, so I joined along on one or two trips a year to please them.

“How do I look?” Y/N asked, giving Tyler and I a little spin.

“Amazing,” I laughed. “The headlamp really completes the look.”

They smiled and turned to Tyler, who simply gave them a thumbs up.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to go. Do you two have all your stuff together?”

I double checked that I had my walkie talkie and the equipment that Tyler had put me in charge of before giving him a nod. Next to me, Y/N did the same.

“Then let’s go.”

Tyler led the way down the hall, allowing Y/N and I to lag behind. They were staying close to me which I was thankful for. The last thing I wanted was to get split up from the other two in a place that I could barely remember the layout of. Even though I ran regularly, I didn’t really want to put those skills to use in this setting.

The school had a completely different atmosphere now that it was dark, even with the combined light of our headlamps. Bent and rusted lockers were around every corner, looming out from the darkness. Dust particles and cobwebs floated freely through the air, occasionally being kicked up by our feet as we passed. There was even the occasional bird that flew around overhead, the sound of its wings amplified by the empty space.

“Where are we going?” Y/N finally asked. The sudden sound of their voice almost made me jump.

“I wanted to check out the window where people report seeing the figure. You know, see if we can get an EMF reading or a temperature change or something,” Tyler answered.

I watched as Y/N nodded in agreement. A brief desire to voice my concern bubbled in my chest, but it quickly subsided again. There was no way Y/N - or more likely, Tyler - was letting me get out of this one.

“You doing ok, Josh?” Y/N asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just a little nervous.”

They glanced at Tyler for a moment before turning back to me and taking hold of my hand. “It’s ok, I’ve got your back.”

I squeezed their hand as a silent thank you while we continued to walk down the hall. Eventually, Tyler brought us to the window where the figure was rumored to be seen, which just so happened to be inside a classroom full of toppled desks and chairs and countless cobwebs. Y/N dropped my hand as we walked into the room, not wanting to run the risk of being seen by Tyler. Part of me wanted to grab it again, not caring what Tyler would say, just to have the comfort.

“Josh, can I get a temperature read on the room?” Tyler asked.

I grabbed the thermometer from my bag and aimed it towards the other side of the room.

“61.”

“And what about over here?”

“58.”

“That’s a significant drop!” Tyler grinned. I had to admit, as much as ghost hunting scared me, I did enjoy seeing how excited he got over little discoveries like this.

“To be fair, we are standing by a window,” Y/N chimed in.

Tyler’s face fell in an instant. “Ok, true, but it’s worth noting. We can try out the thermal cameras for awhile and then do the EMF reader.”

“Sounds good.”

I slowly wandered around the room while Tyler got the thermal camera ready. There were a few old posters on the walls, but most of them had been washed out by the sun and were mostly unreadable now. Looking at them gave me a weird feeling in my stomach, like I was reading something that I wasn’t supposed to.

“Hey, Josh, come back over here and stand next to Y/N.”

I slowly wandered back towards Tyler and Y/N and did as he said. He had a huge smile on his face as he aimed the thermal camera in our direction.

“This new thermal camera is awesome! Way better than the old one. Hey, Y/N, can you get a little closer to Josh.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N stepped closer to me so that their arm was almost pressed up against mine. I could feel my face starting to heat up from embarrassment, I just hoped that-

“Josh! Dude, your face just got way redder,” Tyler grinned. “I can see it on the camera.”

-Tyler didn’t notice.

“I’m nervous,” I muttered, not that it really mattered. Y/N already knew exactly why I would be getting embarrassed.

“Yeah, ok,” he scoffed.

I rolled my eyes and stepped away from Y/N. They walked over and stood next to Tyler so that they could get a better look at the thermal camera, but I didn’t really care. The less I knew about what else was in the room, the better.

“Do you see that?” Tyler muttered.

“The red spot?”

“Yeah, in the corner.”

“I see it.”

I turned and looked in the direction that they were looking. All I saw was some old books sitting on a dusty shelf.

“Is it still there?” Y/N asked.

“Nope, it’s gone.”

A chill ran down my spine. I didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

“Get me an EMF reader,” Tyler said, giving Y/N’s arm a light tap.

They grabbed one from their bag and passed it off to Tyler. He held it up and started to walk towards the corner where they had seen… whatever it was.

“Is it doing anything?” Y/N whispered.

Tyler shook his head.

“Ask a question.”

Tyler cleared his throat. “Is there anything here with us?”

The room was silent as we waited for something to happen. I could see Y/N looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but my focus was on the EMF reader. It was hovering around green right now, but I was just waiting for it to spike at any moment.

“Ask again,” Y/N suggested.

Again, Tyler cleared his throat. “Is there anything here with us?”

The EMF reader spiked to red before immediately dying down again. Tyler spun around and looked between Y/N and I. All of the color had drained from his face.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

“What was that?” he asked quietly.

“It probably picked up on something else,” Y/N said, quickly searching for a reasonable explanation. “Like your walkie talkie.”

“My walkie talkie isn’t on.”

“Try it anyway.”

Tyler grabbed his walkie talkie and held the EMF reader up to it. He waited for a few seconds, but nothing came up. It stayed on green the entire time.

“Maybe it was a fluke,” Y/N chimed in. “Why don’t we try another question and see what happens?”

Tyler nodded and turned back around, holding the EMF reader up once again.

“Are you the one who stands in the windows at sunset?”

It was silent again. The light stayed at green for a few seconds, and for a brief moment I was really starting to believe that the first time had been a fluke. Then it suddenly spiked up to red again.

Tyler dropped the EMF reader and jumped away from it. It hit the ground and bounced once before landing face up. The light was still dancing between green and yellow.

“Are you ok? Did something hurt you?” Y/N asked, reaching out to put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder.

“No, no, it just scared me. I’m fine.”

“It’s still going off,” I added.

Tyler and Y/N both turned to look at the EMF reader. The lights were still blinking rapidly.

“I think we should get out of here,” Y/N said. “I’d rather not mess with… whatever this is and there’s plenty more of the school to explore.”

“Agreed,” Tyler nodded.

He ventured into the middle of the room just long enough to pick up the EMF reader and pass it back off to Y/N. As soon as we had that, we quickly gathered up our things and got out into the hall, making sure to shut the door behind us.

“I knew this place was supposed to be haunted…” Tyler said, “but I never expected anything like that to happen.”

“Let’s just stick together for now and see what there is to see,” Y/N answered.

I was the last one to chime in, “I like that idea.”

*     *     *

“Three am, you know what that means,” Tyler said, checking the time on his watch.

I swallowed hard. After spending the last hour walking around the school with Y/N and Tyler - occasionally stopping to use the thermal camera or EMF reader but not finding much - I had finally calmed down some after the window man incident. It didn’t help that I already knew exactly what Tyler was going to say next.

“It’s prime ghost time. We should split up so we can cover more ground.”

“Who’s going where?” Y/N asked.

“I can take the upstairs since that seems to have the most activity. You two can decide between downstairs and the other end of the school.”

“Josh?” Y/N asked, turning to me. “Do you have a preference?”

“You can take whatever you want.”

“Why don’t you take the downstairs? And I can take the other end over by the pool.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/N smiled at me, “I’m sure.”

“Ok.”

“Remember, keep your walkie talkies on Channel 3 at all times. Do not turn them off for whatever reason and radio in with your location if you need help,” Tyler said.

“Got it,” Y/N nodded.

“Also with any spooky findings,” he added with a smile. “Alright, you know the drill.”

“Hands in,” Y/N sighed.

The three of us put our hands together. Tyler looked around the circle before starting his countdown.

“3… 2… 1... “

“Spooky squad!” we all chanted together.

“Alright, now let’s go find some ghosts!” Tyler grinned, doing a little jump as he did so.

We all double checked that our walkie talkies were working before splitting up. I headed downstairs and, now that I was out of sight, pulled out the backup flashlight that I had in my bag. Tyler and Y/N always said I was excessive, but I wanted as much area around me to be illuminated as possible.

My walkie talkie crackled, making me jump.

“This is Skeleton reporting in. I’m walking by the room we were in and I swear there’s a cold draft coming from under the door. It’s freezing.”

“This is Alien. Copy.”

“Pumpkin here. You better not open that door.”

“Come on, Pumpkin, not even I’m that stupid.”

“I’ve seen you do questionable things.”

“Ok, but none of those involved a spirit potentially following me home.”

“Point taken.”

“Alright, just checking in. Skeleton out.”

“Alien out.”

“Pumpkin out.”

I hooked my walkie talkie back onto my jeans and continued down the hallway. There was a door at the end of the hallway that was partially cracked, so I decided to check it out. Most of the rooms in this building were shut tight, so there had to be a reason that this one wasn’t, right?

My heart started to beat harder with each step that I took towards the door. There was a little patch of light that was just visible inside, probably from the moon. Other than that, I couldn’t make anything out.

I had just started to open the door when something rushed over my head, making me drop to the ground. My heart was pounding in my chest now, so hard that I could hear it in my ears. In an attempt to figure out what that had been, I turned my flashlight down towards the end of the hall in the direction the thing had gone. There was just enough light for me to be able to make out a bird rounding the corner. My shoulders dropped out of relief and I laid back on the floor until my breaths returned to normal.

“This is Alien, checking in. A bird just flew out of one of the rooms and scared the crap out of me. Keep an eye out.”

“This is Pumpkin. Copy.”

“Skeleton. Copy.”

This pattern continued for the next thirty minutes or so. I continued to wander around the downstairs of the school, doing more exploration than I was ghost hunting. As long as Y/N and Tyler were involved, I was willing to participate, but there was no way I was going to actively seek out ghosts on my own.

“This is Pumpkin, checking in. How is everyone doing?”

“This is Alien. I’m doing alright.”

“Same here. Skeleton?”

I stood in place, waiting to move until we got an answer from Tyler. He was usually pretty quick to check in when asked, so this silence from him was unnerving.

“Skeleton? You there?” Y/N asked again.

Still nothing.

“I’ll go upstairs and see if I can find him. Stay where you are, Pumpkin.”

I hooked my walkie talkie back onto my jeans and started to head in the direction of one of the staircases. Although the school was big, it wasn’t so big that I wouldn’t be able to find Tyler in a timely manner. My only concern was the potential of having to go in the ghost room alone. That wasn’t my ideal situation by any means.

Just as I reached the top of the stairs, there was a loud crash from the other side of the school. The sound echoed through the halls, bouncing off walls. It was followed shortly after by Y/N yelling, obviously scared by whatever was happening. I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, trying to decide if I should go look for Tyler or make sure Y/N was ok.

Not wanting to put off a decision any longer, I headed in Y/N’s direction since they seemed to be in more immediate danger. They didn’t usually yell when they were scared, so that alone was enough to have me worried enough to make sure they were ok first. Besides, Tyler was prone to going off to do things on his own. He was probably fine.

Right?

My feet carried me quickly down the hall towards the source of the sound. If I remembered the layout of the school correctly, I would be getting there in less than a minute. I guess there was a benefit to all my running.

I quickly rounded a corner, only to immediately spot Y/N who was coming down the same hallway. There was just barely enough time for me to slow down before we completely collided into one another. My back was on the floor in seconds and Y/N was pressed on top of me, the two of us just barely separated by their arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you to be running this way,” they said, the tiniest hint of a smile on their face.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Y/N’s hands moved to the side of my face and before I knew it, their lips were on mine. I moved my arms to hold onto their waist, steadying them in the awkward position that we were in. Their lips were soft and I could feel every bit of tension and longing that we had shared over the last few days within it. Even though were laying on the floor in some remote, abandoned building, I never wanted it to end.

I started to deepen the kiss, but Y/N pulled away and rolled off of me. They helped me up to a sitting position and brushed some of the dust off my shoulders.

“We need to find Tyler.”

“You’re right,” I said, all the excitement of the kiss wearing off as I remembered the situation we were in.

“But before we do that…”

Y/N leaned over and gave me another quick kiss. I was unable to keep the giddy smile off my face afterwards, even as we stood up and started to head towards the stairs.

“Skeleton, this is Pumpkin. Please report in.”

The walkie talkie crackled hardly a second later.

“This is Skeleton. I’m at home base. Get back here asap.”

“He’s ok,” Y/N sighed, immediately putting their walkie talkie away. “He must have found something big, let’s get back there.”

Y/N and I quickly made our way back to the cafeteria, both of our minds reeling from both the kiss and the excitement of whatever Tyler had potentially found.

Tyler’s face lit up the moment that we stumbled into the cafeteria, our chests heaving. He quickly beckoned us over to his computers.

“You guys will never believe what the cameras picked up. It has to be one of the scariest things that I’ve ever seen,” he grinned as we grew closer. “Come look.”

Y/N and I took a spot on either side of Tyler. He had one of the video feeds up with a timestamp that was hardly more than ten minutes ago. After confirming that we were both ready to see this footage, he hit play and stepped back.

The video showed an empty hallway for the first few seconds, then I came barreling out of the darkness on one part of the screen. Shortly after, Y/N appeared. All of the information quickly pieced together in my mind and I bit down nervously on my lip. My face only continued to burn more and more as the rest of the video played, showing everything from Y/N falling on top of me to us sharing a second kiss.

“Can you believe that?” Tyler laughed, still keeping up his act. “Terrifying.”

“Oh my gosh,” Y/N sighed, burying their face in their hands. “I can’t believe you, Tyler.”

“You can’t believe me? I’m not the one that took three days to finally fess up about their feelings! Do you know how hard I was trying to get the two of you to do it?”

“Is that why you were being so weird?” I asked.

“Yes! My whole plan was to get one of you to finally admit how you felt by the end of our spooky extravaganza and it worked!”

“That explains so much…” Y/N said.

“I got Josh to flirt with you by throwing pumpkin seeds, I pretended to sleep during the movie - and then actually fell asleep -, I forced you guys into a couple’s costume, I slammed that locker door to scare Y/N and get Josh to come running…”

“That was you?” Y/N asked. “Do you know how bad you scared me?”

“But it worked! Look at you two now!” he said with a proud smile.

“Tyler, listen, I really appreciate all you did, but you really didn’t have to get into the middle of all this.”

“I disagree,” he said, crossing his arms. “You two were adamant that the other one didn’t feel the same so I needed to step in to make sure you did know.”

“At least we don’t have to worry about him doing it again in the future.”

“True,” I nodded. “Alright, now how about we pack up our stuff and get out of here? I’d really rather not spend anymore time in this place than I have to.”

“Agreed,” Tyler nodded. “Let’s pack up the stuff and go.”

*     *     *

The sun was just beginning to come up as we got closer to Columbus. Y/N was resting on my shoulder yet again, although this time I was able to shamelessly hold their hand too. We were listening to my headphones again, much to Tyler’s dismay, as we enjoyed the first calm moment since we had arrived at the building the night before.

“Hey, Josh?” Y/N whispered.

“Yeah?”

“We’re like… together, right? Officially?”

“If you want to be.”

“I want to be,” they said, giving my hand a light squeeze.

“Then we’re together.”

“As of Halloween? Or today?”

“What do you think? Because we kissed today, but we kind of had our whole moment yesterday.”

“Whole moment?” Tyler asked.

“Tyler,” I laughed. “Can you not interrupt for once?”

“Sorry, but you owe me that story.”

“That’s fair.”

“Ok, as you were,” Tyler said, waving one of his hands at us.

“Anyway,” I smiled. “What do you think?”

“I vote Halloween. It’s spookier.”

“And special,” I said, leaning my head onto Y/N’s.

“Yeah,” they smiled. “Spookily special.”

***

Tag list: @topownsmyheart @tylersheavydirtysoul @wearebxnditos @gaiatheroyalrabbit

[purplesurveys]

910

At your part of the world, is it summer now?           I think the dry season is over (what we call summer) but it can still get pretty hot during the day, blech. At least it’s starting to get comfortably cold in the evening though - weather’s actually been good enough for me to wrap myself in a blanket through the night :)

What’s the warmest it can get over there? How about the coldest?         Our temperature range isn’t that dramatic. Warmest can be 40ºC, 41ºC; coldest it can ever get is like 25ºC, 26ºC. We go to elevated cities like Tagaytay or Baguio if we’re craving for a much colder climate.

Is there a bad habit you’re trying to break right now? Mmm I guess falling into anxiety and overthinking. I’m the person who gives the most pressure onto myself and I always think that I am not good enough or that my present accomplishments aren’t enough; and that blows my confidence by a lot. At the same time I’m really the only person who can pull myself out of a slump, so it’s just an ugly cycle with me.

Is it easy to find a job in your preferred field in your hometown?           No, I wouldn’t say this city is the go-to for media and public relations. Metro Manila is... but then again, Metro Manila is the place for nearly every industry, including my preferred one.

When is the last time you went to a fun fair? End of January. My old school holds an annual fair on that month and they were able to hold one before the whole Covid mess blew up.

How about an amusement park?             My parents brought us to Star City for no reason (we weren’t an amusement park-going family so it was definitely strange for them to just drive us there unannounced lol) like a decade ago, but it was closed. I don’t think they checked their schedule.

Did you/will you take part in your city’s Pride parade this year?             My last Pride parade was in 2018. I didn’t go last year because I had been busy with internship; and there was a virtual parade held this year that I didn’t go to.

If not, why not?       I never liked virtual gatherings; they make me anxious. Plus I didn’t like the idea of celebrating and partying over a livestream haha

Ladies: Would you ever consider proposing? If not, why not? Gentlemen: How would you feel, if you were proposed to?     I prefer other people making decisions for me, especially if they’re that grand of a decision to make.

Have you ever played the original Mass Effect trilogy?           Never have.

If so, which Shepard and who do you like romancing the best?            

Let’s say there’s a person in need. They need money which they can’t make. Would you be more likely to help them out, if a celebrity asked you to?       Wow no, that sounds so selfish.

When you go to a restaurant, do you have a go-to dish? Yes, usually. I have dishes I will almost always order if I see them on a menu like Monte Cristo, truffle pasta, deep fried sushi with cream cheese, quattro formaggi pizza, fried chicken and waffles, etc. If none of my faves are available I try to pick something that’s similar.  

Or do you always try out something new?               I try out new things if I’m on vacation in a new city/province/country, for sure. That’s a non-negotiable for me in my travels. Like you’ll never see me ordering spaghetti in Bali, nor am I getting McDonald’s in Vigan.

Would you rather live next to a kindergarten or an old folks’ home?       Kindergarten. I like kids and don’t have a problem if they’re being loud. I don’t know if I can take being near an old folks’ home; it might just keep breaking my heart.

What was the last game that you played?   1010 on my phone.

What do you know about Finland?         The unbelievable competence and intelligence of Sanna Marin. Then again, maybe I’m just not used to smart politicians because of where I’m from and who we have as leaders here...

Where was the postcard from that travelled the longest way to you?     I’ve never received one.

Have you ever made jewelry? Probably made a few bracelets and trinkets as a kid, sure.

Have you ever upcycled anything? If so, what? I don’t think so. I remember my mom once tried to turn mine and my sister’s old school skirts into a bag but we quickly told her not to go through it with it because that’s not allowed and we’ll all get in hot shit because of it. Plus it’s pretty disrespectful to begin with, lol.

Which app do you use the most on your phone?     Messenger, Facebook, Twitter, Safari.

Did you learn to play an instrument as a kid? If so, which one?             Nope. I showed very early on that I wasn’t musically gifted.

What is the best part of your most ordinary day?   Playing and being sweet with my dogs.

If you learned that you suddenly needed an aid of some sort to do something that you normally don’t need (glasses, hearing aid, etc.) Would you comply or would you put it off until there was no choice anymore?         Comply. If I suddenly needed an aid, that would imply I’m already in some level of discomfort and I would want that fixed immediately.

Do you enjoy being on your own?         Yes, but it’s more accurate to say that I enjoy a balance of being on my own and being around people.

Or are you happier when there’s a crowd around you?           Again, it depends on what I need. If I’m already socially drained but still around a crowd, I can start to feel miserable and restless.

Have you ever been to a zoo? If so, which one(s)? I’ve been to a local zoo in one of our provinces (I no longer remember where) that I hated because some of the animals looked miserable. My school also has its own ~zoo~ and at least I know they’re taken care of there and also have lots of space to roam and fly around.

How about petting zoos?         No.

Have you thrown you “winter coat” off yet?             I don’t have one of those.

Do you ever look up what foreign idioms mean?     Only English idioms that are unfamiliar. I can’t understand other languages, so I wouldn’t know if I’m reading an idiom of theirs.

What’s the strangest saying you’ve come across? Cold turkey. As someone who doesn’t have English as a first language, that one confused me for a while. 

What’s a First World problem that you have?         I want to be able to go to the mall already.

Do you use food products that are advertised as more healthy?             No.

Does it matter to you if the produce you use is organic?         No. It’s a more expensive option, so it wouldn’t even be my first choice to begin with.

If so, why?               Most of the time it’s just an excuse to charge people more. < This, and also because I know very little about that world.

What has been the worst sort of physical pain that you have felt?         Ripping my earring off my piercing while in the shower; being shocked; food poisoning; and an infected gash on my foot after I panickedly kept kicking a coral reef when I thought I was drowning (I had gone snorkeling flipper-less because they didn’t have enough equipment on the boat).

Are your pains generally more acute or chronic?   Acute. Except for my back.

Do you collect anything?         Not really anymore.

If you could be doing absolutely anything right now, what would it be?   If I knew how to cook I’d be doing it all the time.

Do you read any web comics? I don’t.

Which social media platform do you use the most, if any?     Facebook. I’m starting to use Linkedin now, as well.

Have you ever made a parody version of a popular song?     No, I’m not the type to do that.

Which game did you play the most as a kid during recess? Dodgeball, ten-twenty, piko, patintero, and langit-lupa.

[pbwsports]

Driveways, canyons, pools: NFL players create clever workouts

A farm. A field. A canyon. A pool. Even a driveway. As NFL players wait for a return to normalcy before the 2020 regular season begins, they have had to get creative with how and where they train.

The ripple effects of these unprecedented times -- nationwide social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic and an unknown timetable for a vaccine --have altered the professional sports landscape, and the NFL is no exception.

NFL commissioner Roger Goodell authorized the reopening of all team facilities this week, in accordance with state and local regulations, although coaches and players who are not undergoing rehabilitation are prohibited from entering team buildings. While a handful of clubs took advantage of this allowance, states such as New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Virginia, Michigan, Illinois, Washington and California are still imposing heavier restrictions that affect a dozen team facilities.

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These inconsistent regulations have also changed the responsibilities of NFL strength trainers, who have spent time remotely assessing the workout needs of players, including their access to resources, as well as acting as liaisons for online equipment purchases. NFL teams were permitted to provide each player with up to $1,500 worth of workout equipment. Nevertheless, players have had to find inventive ways to stay in shape.

Minnesota Vikings quarterback Kirk Cousins uses his parents' driveway as his outdoor gym. New York Giants wide receiver Golden Tate mowed a track into a steep canyon near his home. Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver James Washington designed a training regimen on his Texas farm. New Orleans Saintslinebacker Demario Davis has his personal trainers living with him. Giants linebacker Blake Martinez became the beneficiary of a state-of-the-art gym. And Cleveland Browns punter Jamie Gillan grabbed some beers and built a "grubby" garage gym.

Even though players' locations, living situations and resources differ, there's a lesson shared by all: There are no excuses.

Big-money quarterback staying with parents

The playful jab is uttered without warning, hurled from the driver's side of a passing vehicle.

"Go Pack, go!"

And in that moment of lighthearted jest, Kirk Cousins can only ignore it. He knows the stop sign in front of the house makes him a sitting duck every morning.

Four times a week, starting promptly at 9 a.m., the Vikings quarterback gathers equipment from the garage and arranges it neatly on the long, curved pavement leading from his parents' house to the sidewalk. Resting on a wooden chair is his laptop, connected by videoconference to his longtime personal trainer, Chad Cook, who is 450 miles away in Atlanta. This is a glimpse into what constitutes the 2020 NFL offseason.

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"I like my privacy, so being out in the driveway, on display for the whole neighborhood to see is probably less than ideal. But desperate times call for desperate measures," Cousins said with a smile during a recent ESPN interview. "If it means a guy drives by in a truck and yells, 'Go Pack, go!' at me while we're working out, then so be it."

The manicured lawns of this Orlando, Florida, suburb serve as a backdrop to Cousins' regimen and his attempt at normalcy in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic.

It's not a "home gym" by any means, Cousins concedes, but he insists he has everything he needs: a medicine ball, jump-rope, foam rollers, free weights and a football. And, the most essential tool of all: the laptop he uses to connect with Cook.

"[Every car will] see me doing my shuffles across the driveway, or my cariocas, or doing the jump-rope or different plank exercises, core work, medicine ball, lunges -- whatever it may be. And different people honk or wave, so it's kind of fun," said Cousins, who signed a two-year, $66 million extension with the Vikings in March.

Spotty Wi-Fi is a challenge when working out outdoors, but sheltering in place with his parents was by design: The nine-year veteran and his wife, Julie, now have plenty of reinforcements when it comes to taking care of their sons, Cooper, 2½, and Turner, 1.

"I kind of laugh when I talk about having two like I have 10," Cousins joked, "because compared to other guys in the league who have three, four, five, six kids, having two is not a big deal."

Dealing with this adversity has reaffirmed his commitment to his craft. It also taught him that the Public Broadcasting Service can be a football player's, as well as a father's, best friend: "'Daniel Tiger['s Neighborhood]' on PBS can be a lifesaver."

'Strict training mode' means living with trainers

The plan was to be in Nashville, Tennessee, for a month, but Demario Davis' offseason residence has become his permanent dwelling during the pandemic. His 7,500-square-foot house, purchased last offseason, is a saving grace of sorts, equipped with enough room for his wife, Tamela, and their four children under the age of 6.

And his two personal trainers.

Davis' trainers, Jose Tienda and Piankhi Gibson, typically work with him in two-to-three-week "strict training mode" spurts before heading back to their respective homes. They'll return to Nashville soon for another extended stay with Davis.

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As the 31-year-old enters his ninth NFL season -- and the final year of his contract -- he is determined not to lose ground to a youngster who might be aiming for his spot.

Mid-morning acupuncture and soft tissue work with Tienda give way to afternoon aqua training in a neighbor's pool with Gibson. Davis pauses for dinner and to help put the kids to bed. But before long, he's headed back for more body work. He crawls into bed around 12:30 or 1 a.m. on those rigorous training days.

With Louisiana still reeling from 35,316 confirmed COVID-19 cases (and 2,485 reported deaths) as of Thursday, Davis wasn't surprised Saints coach Sean Payton -- who was the first known NFL figure to test positive for the coronavirus -- announced there would not be virtual workouts, meetings or workout sessions at the team facility.

"The virtual offseason really wouldn't have fit the flow of how we operate down there," the veteran linebacker said of the Saints, who have one of the oldest rosters in the NFL. "We don't have a young team. ... He knew with our experience level, the strong leaders we have at each position, that we'd get it done as far as training."

While Davis is eager to play, he said he won't waste time guessing when the season will start.

"The pandemic don't know nothing about football season. The virus ain't just like, 'Oh, football season's coming, let me chill out,'" he said with a laugh. "So I'm going to train and stay in shape because that's just a philosophy of mine -- you stay ready at all times. But I think it's a discredit to people who are on the front lines working, and the people who are being affected by it, when we're just thinking about how fast we can get back to sports."

'Grubby little gym' becomes labor of love

The police officers approached without warning.

Jamie Gillan had been punting on a turf field almost an hour away from his Tremont, Ohio, residence, completely unaware of the state's shelter-in-place orders. With nonessential businesses closed, the Browns punter -- nicknamed "The Scottish Hammer" -- had used local fields to practice his kicking drills. That is, until he was no longer allowed.

"[The officers] were like, 'Yeah man, we want to let you punt. We love the Browns and everything, but it's just the rules,'" the Scotland-born special-teamer explained in his thick brogue.

Faced with the prospect of quarantining alone, Gillan chose to go be with family.

He made trips to the liquor store and the supermarket -- packing his truck with several bottles of bourbon for his father, "120 eggs and 16 racks of bacon" -- and then he and his German shepherd named Bear traveled seven hours to southern Maryland to stay with his parents and 19-year-old sister.

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The rural area around his parents' house affords him space to practice his booming kicks, and there's a "massive" field, owned by a friend, which Gillan uses, too. But the self-described "workout junkie" had to get creative with strength training. Soon his parents' garage became his gym.

Unable to buy equipment online because of limited inventory and "skyrocketing" prices, Gillan purchased old equipment from a local high school: barbells, bumper plates, 40-, 80- and 100-pound dumbbells and bands. He purchased rubber matting from a local tractor store.

He searched Facebook Marketplace for a squat rack, but he and his father, Colin, who is a former rugby player and member of the United Kingdom's Royal Air Force, came up with a better solution -- they would construct their own.

"We came back [from Lowe's], cracked open some beers and just started building it," Gillan said with a chuckle. Even with old, rusty weights, his "grubby little gym" was everything he needed.

Gillan said his resourcefulness was forged during four years playing at Arkansas-Pine Bluff, a historically black university. During offseasons when he and his teammates didn't have access to the gym, their surroundings became their workout room. They bench-pressed and squatted logs, they did dips and pullups on metal bars at local parks, and Gillan hopped fences to punt on neighboring fields when access to their football field was prohibited.

"One thing I notice about a lot of historically black colleges is they're very underfunded," Gillan said, stressing that he and other student-athletes had to be creative. "Maybe it got me prepared for this weird period."

State-of-the-art amenities ease the transition

Blake Martinez's father, Marc, had a master plan: purchase a plot of land 15 minutes from the family home in Tucson, Arizona, and build a facility for his son to train and live. It didn't take long for the idea to become Martinez's reality.

The linebacker thanks his father every day for his ingenuity, as well as his construction company.

The 18,000-square-foot facility -- conceptualized and built last year -- "has everything a football player would need," said Martinez, a 2016 fourth-round draft pick by the Green Bay Packers who signed a three-year, $30 million free-agent contract with the Giants in March.

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The warehouse-looking steel structure contains "a miniature version of a college weight room," a full-length basketball court, a 30-by-15-yard turf field and an outdoor sand volleyball court. It also doubles as a residence, with three bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen on the second level for him, his wife, Kristy, and their young daughter.

"It kept getting better and better as it kept getting built," Martinez said. He works out for two hours in person with his longtime trainer, Glenn Howell, four times a week.

But familiarity with his new franchise is a luxury Martinez, 26, doesn't have.

With New York and New Jersey being one of the epicenters of the coronavirus outbreak in the United States, Martinez doesn't know when he'll be able to travel to the facility or even meet members of the Giants organization for the first time.

"It's not like I've been on the team for a while and I know the guys already. So, it's been tough in that aspect, connecting with guys," he said.

Martinez said the pandemic has taught him "I literally have zero excuses not to show up the first day and make sure I'm 100 percent ready to go and help push all of the younger guys to that level if they haven't gotten there yet."

Making use of California canyons

Golden Tate's stunning San Diego views come at a price.

"I've just got to watch out for rattlesnakes," the Giants wide receiver said with a laugh.

When stay-at-home orders were issued in California in mid-March, Tate took advantage of his surroundings -- namely, the canyon his house is built on.

"It's not the best condition to be running in," admitted the 11-year NFL player, who mowed a 7-by-40-yard patch of grass on a steep incline. "But it'll suffice right now. It's better than doing nothing."

Team work makes the dream work! Uncle @tatethagreat & LoLo helping me get my daily catches in. Hope everyone has a great Friday! #FamilyFriday

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Tate, a married father of two small kids, purchased PowerBlock dumbbells and a Jugs machine from which he catches about 100 balls a day. He bikes at home on his Peloton and uses mountain bike trails for his aerobic conditioning. But finding a flat surface for route running has been a challenge. So, too, is self-discipline.

"Over my career, I'm so used to having someone -- an instructor or the guys around me -- push me. And right now, I'm forced to push myself," said Tate, who turns 32 on Aug. 2.

The veteran receiver played through the 2011 NFL lockout, but he said the coronavirus pandemic is unlike anything he has experienced.

"I feel bad for the first-, second-, third- and fourth-round guys who are expected to come in and help the team right away, but they're not having the same opportunity to grow as a player, not getting those reps on the field," he said.

"The offseason is when you have the time to really focus on the fundamentals of the game, the bigger picture and the details of the game. And it looks like right now we're going to show up for camp -- if we show up for camp -- in the middle of the fire of trying to figure out who's going to make the team and trying to get ready for a season. That can be overwhelming."

Strengths trainers turned investigators

With their players scattered across the country, NFL strength and conditioning coaches feel more like part-time sleuths and office managers than in-person trainers.

"We kind of went more into equipment sales and trying to be a liaison to help guys get set up and make sure they're doing the right thing," said Justus Galac, now in his seventh year as the New York Jets' head strength and conditioning coach. "What we found was, guys in the Southern states and more into the Midwest had more access than our guys in the Northeast and West Coast."

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Strength trainers have been tasked with identifying what their players need from a performance standpoint to achieve their fitness goals, regardless of where they live and what resources they have access to. "Even though they might have access to a Steak 'n Shake parking lot or they might be in a third floor of an apartment," said Justin Lovett, the Los Angeles Rams' new head strength and conditioning coach.

Lovett was hired in the midst of California's coronavirus shutdown, but unlike during the 2011 lockout year, when he was on the Denver Broncos' staff, communication is permitted and has proved paramount. But there have been challenges.

"The biggest problem with the rookie class is they don't have the money that some of the older guys do," Galac said. "Not saying millions of dollars, but able to go buy equipment, pay for a trainer to take care of them, buying more food that you may normally not have to buy because the facility provides it. All those little things are adding up for these guys. And the rookies, they have no idea. And it's not their fault."

This time of year is crucial for strength staffs, not only for getting players in shape but also for getting new players up to speed with their programs. "And we've lost that," Galac said.

In fact, the Jets' weight room underwent a face-lift this offseason, complete with a new floor, turf accents and equipment. "And nobody's using it," Galac said. "It's sitting empty. The players haven't even seen it yet."

Finding space and serenity in the countryside

James Washington misses football. And, occasionally, his farm.

The 26-acre property the Steelers wide receiver purchased near his hometown of Abilene, Texas, made it easy for him to comply with social distancing rules. It also afforded him space to work out and keep in shape by way of chores. Washington, who was an agribusiness major with a concentration in farm and ranch management at Oklahoma State, finds the countryside calming. He enjoys the views of passing cars, wheat fields and cattle pastures during his eight- to 12-mile rides on his recently purchased bicycle.

His workout setup, which included an assortment of resistance bands sent by the Steelers and his high school dumbbells retrieved from his parents' house, was complete with the arrival of a Jugs machine, which he kept in the barn and carried to a flat area in one of the pastures.

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However, staving off boredom is a challenge whenever he's in Pittsburgh, a more crowded city with fewer options for keeping busy.

"When I was in Texas, I'd work out, do my virtual [team] meetings and then I'd have to find something to do cause I can't just sit in the house," Washington said last week, after he, JuJu Smith-Schuster and fellow receiver Ryan Switzer worked out in quarterback Ben Roethlisberger's home weight room. "Being on the farm really helped me a lot, because there was always something that could have been done."

Washington loves his farm so much his recent stay in Pittsburgh was short-lived. He returned to Texas on Wednesday to celebrate Memorial Day weekend with family and tend to his most recent purchase: cattle. The time away from the Steelers' facility has also given Washington time to think.

"It just doesn't feel right," he said. "Everybody feels like we should be at the facility, doing physical stuff, getting ready to go. ... Even if there's no fans, we still have to go out there and just go 110 percent, even if it would feel weird. Fans help make the game. It's really crazy to think about.

"Just being away from things, you really find out how much you miss the sport. It sucks. That's really what I figured out. That I love football." Source - ESPN

[lookwhatilost]

if i had to tell u one thing abt how my parents see me that rly Says As Much As It Needs To, they tell me constantly that they planned me down to the month i was born

24 seems like an old age to be stuck on rebellion against one’s parents. and it absolutely is. i should have gotten it out of my system a long time ago, but circumstance never really allowed. everything had to be planned. they had their plans for me, very strict ones, and if i were to say “no”, then i’d best be equipped w an alternative one. there’s no room for indecision, or confusion. life is not a predictable thing, and i’m not always a predictable person, but if you want to please them, these are things you have to pretend not to be aware of. there’s no room for exploration, or actually taking time to think. you have to constantly be moving from one goal post to the next. that’s how this is. you always have to have an answer to the question “what will you do?”

there isn’t a “now” with people like them. only a “next”

they bought me merch shit from lehigh university from the time i was 5 or 6 years old. there are pics of me in the family photo album of me in my first grade cheerleading garb, and in one of them, i’m wearing a pint-sized lehigh sweatshirt over my actual uniform. when i got a little older, like end of middle school, i told them i wanted to go to college in boston and they both replied w a confused “i thought you wanted to go to lehigh” kinda response. but i remember thinking back then, yknow, i never could recall expressing any organic interest in that. jst sort of resigning to it. “okay, i guess that’s what i’m supposed to do”

they wanted me to be a chemical engineer. isn’t that hilarious?

to bulk up my college application, they railroaded me into a bunch of extracurriculars that i didn’t wanna participate in. forced to swim competitively since i was 8, i had grown so weary of it by the time i’d reached high school. i told them i was tired, that i didn’t want to do it anymore. they said “well if you’re not going to swim, then what are you going to do?” and i didn’t have an answer, but they wouldn’t accept “nothing” as an answer. so i kept doing it even though i didn’t want to. disobedience to them could be met w violence and it wasn’t frequent, but frequent enough that i was always worrying abt it. so i did what they said even if it was making me unhappy

my grades suffered progressively each time we’d move, and when bullying rly ratcheted up in middle school, it sort of bled into this lifelong pattern of personal distress rendering me completely non-functional. i was always a good test taker, but it was hard for me to do any classwork outside of that, bc all i was capable of focusing on was how depressed and lonely i felt. i’d go to my sports practices after school, and come home jst. completely burnt out. rinse and repeat

joke’s on them when i dropped out of high school, i guess. that beefy college application was never sent out to any actual colleges. “well if you’re not going to finish high school, then what are you going to do?” and i didn’t have an answer, but they wouldn’t accept “nothing” as an answer, so i got my equivalency and enrolled in community college. but i was still in the same predicament from personal stress being entirely consuming. i had a rly toxic dynamic w my ex boyfriend (and some of the people who have been following me for a rly long time may remember when i was in the thick of this) who was constantly tasking me w cleaning up the messes he got into through his addiction and general irresponsibility. and then he would dump me for the umpteenth time. or cheat on me. or do something else stupid, and i tolerated it bc he was half of my support system and i couldn’t lose that. it got so stressful and i ended up attempting to k*ll m*self several times, and had to withdraw from school bc i’d missed so much when i was in residential psychiatric treatment

“well if you’re not going to community college, then what are you going to do?” and i didn’t have an answer, but they wouldn’t accept “nothing” as an answer. so i went to cosmetology school and sunk 5 years of my life into an atrocious and thankless industry. i guess i have to hand it to myself. i’ve never stuck w anything for so long, but i never rly cared for any of it. it was easy. and a lot of people in it are really stupid, and it’s easy to excel above people like that. but i never liked it that much. i guess it’s unfair to say i never had my moments. i did have my moments where i was optimistic, where i thought my skill would carry me. i soared above my classmates and had high expectations for myself for a while... until i realized that i wasn’t rly the kind of person who succeeds in this industry. the kind of person who makes any money here is the kind of person who’s complacent enough never to question it. can i really recommend things to people in good faith when i’m aware of the ridiculous markup? can i really insist that what we’re selling is so much better than what they’re getting in the drugstore when i know you’d need a comprehensive education in biochemistry to understand a bottle of shampoo, when i know that almost every beauty school is incidentally owned by one of the companies that manufacture these professional products? can i ever feel okay about plying into people’s insecurities to upsell a ticket? can i ever reconcile that it all, at its core, goes against my ethics?

and i dnt think i can. my roommate and i were looking into moving out of state, but when he pulled back, i still wanted to follow through on the decision. but transferring my cosmetology license would have been very labor-intensive and expensive for something i was already disenchanted with. i thought about other reasons to legitimize the move, and i figured since i was on a cooking kick, maybe it’d be worth monetizing. i am very good at it. when you have a restrictive ED, and dnt want to eat processed diet food shit all day, it teaches you a lot about how to season and prepare things effectively. a lot about portioning, about measurement, about precision, about control. i have it mastered down to an art. i only wanted to look at schools in the specific place i wanted to move, and i only wanted to do a certificate program. when i mistakenly involved my parents in the decision making process, they scheduled me a tour at a more collegiate-minded school in an entirely different state bc it was “the best one” and coaxed me into applying. i did. i realized i’d made a huge mistake, that i was going down the same path that me so unhappy in a trade before. if i go about this from a “nothing” job, if i realize it’s not an environment i wanna be in... it’s not as much of a loss of time, money, expectantions. i told them. they were angry.

i sat down w my dad a few days ago. i explained to him how i felt. he tried to convince me to hold onto it, to try it, “jst one semester, it can’t hurt”. unwilling to see where i was coming from. unwilling to budge. and then he said it, that one thing, that i’m so fucking sick of hearing

“well, if you’re not going to go to culinary school, then what are you going to do?”

and i didn’t have an answer, but he wouldn’t accept “nothing” as an answer

so i said “nothing”

[slusheeduck]

The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher!AU

[Arc 1]

Arc 2

[Together]

[A Talk]

Chapter Three: The Visit

               “Don’t tug your head like that, chamaco, it makes it hurt more. Trust me, I know.”

               Miguel huffed with a wince as the comb pulled through his unruly hair, though he didn’t pull away this time. “I could’ve done this myself, Tío Héctor.”

               “And have you miss the back like you always do? Sorry, Miguelito, but no. Not today.”

               Right. Today was the visit.

               To be honest, Miguel didn’t really know what the visit was entirely about. Tío Héctor had been on the phone almost constantly for the past few weeks—either with the social worker (who, Tía Imelda had explained, was the person making sure that Miguel was being properly cared for) or with Abuelita to talk about what the social worker had said. And if he wasn’t on the phone or grading papers, he was filling out other papers that Miguel couldn’t make heads or tails of, even when Héctor had tried to explain. It all seemed really confusing and really boring.

               At least, it’d been boring until Tío Héctor said that the social worker was going to visit. Apparently she had to check in to see if Miguel really was safe and cared for (which he obviously was), and even he could tell that his tío was really worried about it. If he was this worked up over it, then Miguel figured that this social worker must be pretty scary—maybe even as scary as Maestra Guadalupe from his old school. The thought of being face-to-face with someone like that again was enough to send shivers down his own spine.

               So, in order to help out, Miguel was trying his best to stay calm about it. He was doing pretty good most of the week—regularly assuring his tío that yes, he was fine and no, he hadn’t even been thinking about the visit—but it was really hard with how Tío Héctor was acting today. Even though it was a Saturday, he was in his teacher clothes, and his hair had been combed and tamed—something Miguel had never seen, not even at the funeral. Add that he’d spent the whole morning trying to clean the already-cleaned-several-times apartment, and Tía Imelda—who’d been there since before Miguel had woken up that morning—following him around and continuously saying, “It’s fine, mi amor. It’s going to be just fine.”

               Well, almost continuously. She stopped repeating that in order to say, “Héctor, if you comb Miguel’s hair any more, he’s going to be bald.”

               Miguel gasped and pulled his head away from the comb, turning back to look at Héctor with wide eyes as he covered his head. He didn’t want to be bald.

                 Héctor gave him a weak smile. “Tranquilo, chamaco, don’t worry. All your hair’s still there.” He ruffled Miguel’s hair, then pressed his lips together as free hand started to drift up to his own hair, stopping just in time. “Sorry. I just…”

               “You’re nervous.” Imelda cut him off as she walked over to him, setting her hands on his arms.  “And that’s all right, Héctor. Anyone would be in your situation. But you need to…”

               She trailed off as the other bedroom door opened, and Ernesto walked out into the living area. He didn’t even look over at them as he headed into the kitchen, tapping some sort of tune in-between fiddling with his fancy coffee machine. (Héctor, Miguel had learned, wasn’t allowed to touch it after some incident that included steamed milk and the emergency room.)

               Something had been…weird with him since Miguel had come back, even weirder than after what had happened at the club, and for the life of him, Miguel couldn’t figure out what. He and Tío Héctor had barely talked since Navidad, and the few times they did, it was sharp, short, and definitely not best friend talk. He wondered if they’d had a fight, but what was there to fight about? Things were basically the same as they were before he left.

               “Oye, Nesto, ah…could you be careful in there?” Héctor asked, voice a little tight. “The visit’s today and…”

               “I’m not going to make a mess,” Ernesto replied shortly. “That’s your thing, not mine.”

               Miguel looked up at Héctor; his tío looked like he was about to argue, but Imelda squeezed his arms and gave him a look, so he let out a sigh instead. Even so, the way Ernesto and Héctor glared at each other sure made it feel like there was still a fight going on, even if it was too quiet to hear.

               The coffee machine beeped, and Ernesto finally broke eye contact to get his mug. “Don’t worry. I’ll be spending the day editing,” he said flatly. “You don’t need to worry about me ruining your visit.” Before anyone else could reply, he headed straight back to his room, shutting the door sharply behind him. Miguel’s brow creased, and he looked up at Héctor.

               “Is he mad about something?” he asked quietly. Héctor puffed out a breath, pulling away from Imelda to stuff his hands in his pockets and narrowing his eyes at the door.

               “He’s pouting.”

               “Héctor.”

               Imelda had brought out her Directora voice, and she and Héctor stared at each other for a moment. Miguel fought to keep himself from groaning. Did grown-ups ever actually talk to each other, or did they all just communicate by staring?

Apparently the silent talk worked, because Héctor shook his head and shoulders before looking down at Miguel with a sigh. “Don’t worry about him. He’s fine.”

               That was the other thing Miguel was realizing about grown-ups: they lied. A lot. It was kind of dumb to keep him in the dark; after all, it wasn’t like he was a baby. He was almost nine. He should know what was going on, and he was about to say so.

               But a quick knock on the door rang out, and everything went still.

               Imelda was quick to move behind Miguel, setting her hands on his shoulders. Despite just thinking that he was too old to be babied, he leaned against her. Sure, he was almost nine, but even he was a little scared at the prospect of a Maestra Guadalupe clone.

               Héctor looked at Imelda with wide eyes, then murmured a quick prayer and crossed himself (another thing Miguel had never seen from his tío) before walking up to the door. Again, he took a deep breath and shook his head and shoulders, then opened the door.

               “Buenos días! Are you Héctor Rivera?”

               “Ah…sí, that’s me.”

               “I’m Elena Marquez, the agent you talked to on the phone. I’m here for Miguel’s visit.”

               “A-ah, sísísí, we were expecting you! Come, come right in.”

               Héctor stepped back, and the social worker stepped in.

               …at least, Miguel thought it was the social worker. He squinted as Señora Marquez walked in. He had been expecting a tall, mean-faced vieja with a very scary ruler, not a tiny lady around Tío Héctor’s age in a bright red suit with a not-very-scary clipboard. She looked around the apartment, then gave him a bright smile.

               “You must be Miguel!” She walked over to him, leaning a little to meet his eyes. “Your primo and abuelita have told me so much about you. I’m so glad to meet you today!”  

               Miguel frowned slightly, unsure of how to respond. This was who Tío Héctor had been so scared of? She seemed so…nice. But, when he glanced up at him, he still looked a little sick, so she must be scary. Miguel just had to figure out how she was scary.

               After a beat of silence, Señora Marquez gave him a little nod, then stood up straight to look at Imelda with another bright smile. “And you’re Imelda, sí?”

               Miguel looked up to see Tía Imelda give a warm smile,  the  kind she usually used with parents. “That’s right. I take it Héctor’s mentioned me?”

               “Very much! He’s said such lovely things, especially with how much you’ve helped with Miguel.” She looked down at her clipboard for a moment before turning to look at Héctor. “So this visit is going to go exactly the way I said on the phone. There’s nothing to be nervous about, just a quick look around and then a little talk with all the residents. Suena bien, Héctor?”

               Héctor swallowed, then put on a stiff smile before he nodded. She gave him a gentle smile in return, then made her way around the living room. Miguel watched her closely, lips pressed tightly together as she scribbled on her clipboard. He started to follow after her, but Tía Imelda held his shoulders fast.

               “Just stay here with me,” she murmured. “She’ll be done in just a bit.”

               Miguel frowned up at her, but one eyebrow raise was enough to keep him from arguing. He crossed his arms with a huff, watching silently as Tío Héctor trailed after Señora Marquez as she made her way to the kitchen. This was worse than when he had to sit in one place. He could see Señora Marquez ask Héctor a few questions, but he couldn’t quite hear what she was saying, just that something was missing. Given the way that Tío Héctor swallowed and started murmuring something very quickly with an unconvincing smile, she’d noticed something bad. But what could be bad? Did she figure out that Héctor couldn’t cook? That wasn’t much of a problem! If he could just go over there, he could tell her that!

               He started to look up at Imelda with wide eyes, but another raised eyebrow stopped his attempt. Of course, she was the one person not swayed by the puppy-dog eyes. He huffed, crossing his arms tighter as they moved away from the kitchen and toward his room. He perked up, listening hard as they paused outside his door.

               “Is this…soundproof foam?”

               “Uh, yeah, it is. We’re still remodeling Miguel’s room; it used to be our studio before he came to stay with us. Bu-but there’s no equipment or anything inside! Nothing heavy or sharp, totally safe for a kid.”

               “I don’t doubt you, but…why the foam?”

               “Well, Ernesto—my roommate, I mentioned him in the call—and I are musicians. This used to be where we recorded; the foam’s to keep sound from coming in.”

               “I see…” Miguel watched as she looked up at Héctor before writing something on her clipboard. His eyes widened as she added, “Can we take a look inside?”

               “Only if you promise not to move his luchador card collection.”

               Miguel frowned hard as they went into his room. Señora Marquez had seemed a little…worried when Héctor said he and Ernesto were musicians. Was that bad? It was the truth, though! But what if that got Tío Héctor in trouble? What if he wasn’t allowed to take care of Miguel? He had to know what they were saying.

               “There, see? That wasn’t so long.” Tía Imelda patted his shoulder. “While we wait for them, why don’t we do some of your math homework?”

               How was math supposed to help? He didn’t quite say that, but he was sure his expression did when he looked up at her. (See? He was totally a grown-up.) His brow furrowed as he thought. Tía Imelda definitely wasn’t going to let him eavesdrop; she’d probably tell him that he didn’t need to worry about what was going on. Except that he did. After all, it was his life they were talking about! He looked away, eyes going to the kitchen as he tried to think of a way to distract her, just for a few minutes so he could listen.

               “Uh, Tía Imelda?”

               “Yes, Miguel?”

               “Before we do math, I’m…really hungry.”

               Imelda blinked, then crossed her arms. “You are? Even though we just had breakfast an hour ago?”

               “I, um, I…wasn’t able to eat much.”

               Once again, her eyebrow went straight up. “You cleaned your plate.”

               Shoot. Miguel pressed his lips together, eyes darting over her face before he shrugged. “Maybe I’m growing? Tío Héctor, he said that he was always starving right before a growth spurt; maybe I’m about to wind up as tall as he is!”

               Despite her eyebrow staying in place, a smile quirked at her lips, and she shook her head. “Ay, I don’t know if you’re growing, but you certainly take after him. But I think I can get you a little snack. There should still be some fruit in the refrigerator…”

               Fruit didn’t give him enough time. Miguel rocked back on his heels.

               “Um, actually…if it’s not too much trouble, could…I have a quesadilla?” He gave her a big, hopeful smile (which he knew was extra cute because he’d lost a tooth the other day). “Please?”

               Imelda tapped a finger to her lips, then sighed. “Well, I think they’re done with the kitchen. I can manage that.”

               “Gracias, Tía Imelda!”

               He’d have to move fast, and he was definitely going to get caught. But his room wasn’t in a hallway like Héctor’s was, so he’d probably be able to hear a decent amount of the discussion before his inevitable grounding. Really, it was a small price to pay for knowing what was going to happen to him.

               He waited for her to start looking for what she’d need, then quickly—and on his tiptoes—headed over to his door. He glanced back to the kitchen; looked like Tía Imelda was still looking for the tortillas (it’d probably take her a while to figure out they were in the freezer), which meant he could listen now. He pressed his ear to the door, listening as hard as he could.

               “Is this the permanent bed situation?” he heard Señora Marquez ask.

               “No! No, no. I-it…well, it wasn’t until very recently that Miguel staying was a permanent thing. Between school and all the paperwork, we haven’t had the chance to get anything more than the mattress. But the mattress is new!”

               “Mm.”

               “My, ah, my tía—the one you talked to, with the same name as you—she wanted to send over his whole bed along with his things, but…well, I figured he might as well start fresh here, you know?”

               “Of course.”

               “But he’ll absolutely have a bedframe by the end of the month.”

               “And the rest of the foam?”

               “That’ll all be gone, too. Probably in Ernesto’s room.”

               “The roommate, yes? I meant to ask when I called, but will he be available to talk to?”

               “He…should be.  Why?”

               “Well, I need to interview everyone in the household.”

               “Oh, but Ernesto…”

               “It’s the law, Héctor, I’ve got to.”

               Miguel’s brow creased as he heard Héctor take a breath. “I’ll…get him for you. But I think you’d have a better time talking to Imelda.”

               “Like I said, I need to talk to everyone in the household.”

               “Of course. I just…”

               “Miguel!”

               “Nothing!” Miguel’s response to Tía Imelda was quick, and he was standing straight in an instant, clutching his arm. He gave her a big grin as she walked toward him, frozen tortillas in hand, only to stop as the door opened.

               “Miguel?”

               “Nothing!” Miguel repeated, whirling around to look up at Tío Héctor and Señora Marquez. Héctor stared at him, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

               “Miguel, remember that thing I taught you about the other day, called eavesdropping?” When Miguel didn’t answer, he continued, “When you were listening to Ernesto’s livestream without his permission?”

               “I wasn’t doing that!”

               Héctor tilted his head, eyebrows raised. “Were you listening without permission?”

               “No,” Miguel insisted. “I was just listening!”

               “Miguel…”                                                      

               Señora Marquez looked between the two, then smiled at Miguel. “Well, this actually works out well. Miguel is exactly who I wanted to talk to next.” She bent down slightly to meet his eyes again. “Are you all right if we talk by ourselves for a little bit?”

               Miguel shut his mouth, freezing up for a moment. He looked up at Héctor—he wasn’t looking quite as nervous as before, and he gave him a smile as he set a hand on his head. “It’s not scary, chamaco. Elena is very nice.”

               Miguel sent a dubious look his way as he ducked his head away from the hand. Well, this was about his life and he was almost nine. He should be brave about this.

               “Okay, I’m ready to talk,” he said very seriously, standing up straight.

               Señora Marquez raised her eyebrows with an amused smile, then looked up at Héctor. “I’ll just be a few minutes with him, don’t worry.”

               “Sísísí, of course. Take, take as long as you need.” Standing behind Señora Marquez, Héctor gave Miguel a hopeful grin and a thumbs up before he made his way out of the room. Miguel watched Héctor go, then took a breath as he was left alone with the social worker. Once the door closed, she smiled at him again.

               “How about we get comfortable?” she said. “Do you…”

               “I’ll sit on my bed!” Miguel quickly dropped down on the mattress, immediately trying to make himself look very comfortable. “I actually really like it like this,” he added quickly. “It’s not so high, so I, uh, don’t have to worry about falling off.”

               Señora Marquez chuckled. “Did you worry about falling off in your old bed?”

               “Oh, yeah. All the time.”

               “I see. Then it’s very good your new bed is so low.” She pulled over the chair from the recently-emptied desk, sitting in front of him. She leaned forward, eyebrows raised. “So, do you like living with your primo?”

               Miguel nodded firmly. “It’s the best.”

               She lifted up her clipboard, raising her eyebrows. “Oh? Why is that?”

               “Well, Tío Héctor’s a musician—a real one, he went to school for it and everything—and that’s what I want to do, too! So he teaches me all sorts of music stuff—like what he teaches his students even though I’m only in primaria—and is fine with me practicing whenever.” He scrunched his nose. “Well so long as I get my homework done. Which I do!”

               “I believe you, I believe you,” Señora Marquez assured with a smile, taking a few notes. She leaned forward and asked in a whisper, “And does he let you do whatever you want? Like, say, eat nothing but sweets and stay up late?”

               Miguel snorted. “No, definitely not. Even if Tía Imelda wasn’t here, Abuelita would never let us get away with that.”

               “But she lives all the way in Santa Cecilia.”

               “She would know,” Miguel said seriously. “She knows everything. Once, she knew that I’d left the shop early, and she wasn’t even home!”

               “Ah, I see. She sounds like a true Abuelita, then,” Señora Marquez said, making another note. “She loves you and Héctor very much, I hope you know that.” She looked up at Miguel. “Though tell me a little bit about your Tía Imelda. Héctor said she’s the directora of your school, right?”

               Miguel nodded. “So I really have to do my homework.”

               She chuckled again. “And you like her?”

               “Por supuesto! I know she’s kinda scary at first, but she’s really nice.” He sat up straight. “She’s even been teaching me how to cook, just in case she can’t help with dinner.”

               Señora Marquez’s eyebrows rose. “Is she over that often?”

               Miguel nodded. “Almost every day. Tío Héctor really likes her.”

               “I can see that.” She paused for a moment, looking at her notes. “Now, if they…broke up…”

               “They tried that and it didn’t work.”

               Señora Marquez shook her head. “Let’s pretend for a moment. If they broke up, and if Imelda didn’t come anymore, would you still feel like you were taken care of?”

               “Oh, sure! Tío Héctor’s gotten a little better at cooking, and the abuelas downstairs would be able to help us out if we really needed it.”

               Señora Marquez nodded, taking another note. “All right, we’re just about done. But for my next question, I need you to be very honest, Miguel, okay?”

               Miguel pressed his lips together, looking at her suspiciously. “Okay.”

               She leaned forward to meet his eyes, face very serious. “Has there been any situation where you felt scared while living here?”

               Scared? While living with Tío Héctor? He frowned; it felt like a trap of some sort, but…well, he’d agreed to be honest. “Well, the first time he took me on the motorcycle was a little scary.”

               “He took you on a motorcycle?”

               “Well, a few months after I came. He had to wait for all the safety equipment to come in before he’d let me ride it—he even straps me to him like a seatbelt!”

               Señora Marquez smiled, making a note. “I see. Anything else?”

               “Sometimes I get nightmares—not much now, but when I first came. But Tío Héctor would make a blanket fort with me and we’d sleep in there, and that helped.” Miguel’s brow furrowed. Any other times he’d been scared? Oh. Wait. “There’s…one time things got scary. But…that was my fault.”

               Señora Marquez looked up, brows drawn together. “What happened?”

               Miguel squirmed a bit in place. “Well…I mean, I didn’t get hurt or anything. And it wasn’t Tío Héctor’s fault at all! But…I, um, I got to go to one of their shows.”

“Oh? Where was it?”

“At, um…I think it’s called El Paraiso or something like that; Tío Héctor said it was a music club.”

Señora Marquez wrote down another note. “All right. Tell me what happened.”

“So Cruz…um, that’s Ernesto’s YouTube name…well, he brought me early and told me to stay at a table while he set up and we waited for Tío Héctor to come. But I…” He winced, looking away before looking back up at Señora Marquez. “…wandered off? And I wound up getting locked out for a little while.”

               Señora Marquez’s eyes widened. “Of the club?”

               “Sí.”

               “Were you able to call anyone?”

               “Well, I tried calling Ernesto but he couldn’t hear his phone, and Tío Héctor was on the motorcycle, so I knew he wouldn’t answer. But two of their fans found me and stayed with me for a bit, and then Tío Héctor came and everything was good! And I haven’t wandered off once since then, and Tío Héctor went overboard for a while on making sure he knew where I was. So it’s not like it’s a problem or anything!” Miguel swallowed hard as he watched her scribble a few quick notes down. “That’s…that’s not gonna get me taken away, will it?”

               Señora Marquez paused, and she looked up at Miguel with a gentle smile. “Miguel, I’m going to let you in on a secret that most people don’t know about social workers,” she said quietly. “I’m working very hard to make sure that you do stay with Héctor.” She let out a small sigh as she looked down at her notes. “I’m going to be honest with you, this does mean I have to do a little more work than I’d planned. But you’re not getting taken away if I can help it, so you don’t need to be scared of that.”

               Miguel set his jaw, but he nodded quietly. Señora Marquez smiled again.

               “It’s going to be just fine, Miguel,” she assured. “I can tell that your tío wants to take the best care of you and that he’s working very hard to make sure you have what you need. That’s the most important thing.” She stood up. “Well, I think that’s all we need to talk about. I just need to have a talk with…Ernesto, you said was his name?”

               Miguel nodded. “He’s editing right now, but he likes talking.”

               “Perfecto.” She held out a hand to help Miguel up to his feet. “It was very, very nice meeting you, Miguel. Thank you for talking with me.”

               Miguel nodded again, then followed her out of his room. That had gone pretty well, he thought. They didn’t have to worry.

               At least, he didn’t think so.

~

                This interview was unnecessary, a waste of both of their time, and quite frankly the very last thing Ernesto needed right now.  

               After all, it wasn’t like Héctor was the only one who was stressed out at the moment. The channel was suffering—frankly, it had been since the accident. They’d gone from having at least one new song every month to nothing for six months straight. And yes, of course Ernesto wasn’t going to hold family tragedies against Héctor—he couldn’t be his best friend if he was that callous.

               And at first, it’d been easy to keep the channel afloat. Collabs with other musicians when he’d been on tour; vlogging, livestreams, and challenge videos for the first few months Miguel was here. All classic tricks to keep viewers tuned in with relatively little effort. But at the end of the day, Rivera y Cruz was a music channel, and their subscribers were starting to notice that…well, there wasn’t exactly any new music. Comments like Is there going to be a new song soon? and It’s been sooooo long since we’ve seen you guys play original stuff. I hope you didn’t quit making music :( were starting to pop up on the newest videos, and each one sent Ernesto into a minor panic. Because he was just the one selling the music; Héctor was the one who actually made it. And if Héctor wasn’t writing, then their entire music career collapsed.

               And that absolutely, positively could not happen.

               But Ernesto was at a quandary. He knew, from experience, that if Héctor wasn’t in a writing mood, he would not write. Brilliance like his didn’t come from churning out songs like a machine; his muse (the metaphorical one, not the awful boss-girlfriend) came as she wished, and there was no forcing him otherwise. And with how rocky things had been between them, there wasn’t any way to nudge Héctor into opening up his songbook without a fight. Honestly, things were so bad that he probably wouldn’t even offer up an old song of his if Ernesto asked.

               So…Ernesto had decided that enough was enough. After all, he was a musician. Maybe he didn’t have Héctor’s knack for words or fancy degree, but he knew his way around a guitar. And even if he hadn’t been hanging around Héctor for the past twenty years, he’d listened to so much music from so many different genres that he figured he had to have picked up a thing or two about what made a decent song.

               So, for the first time since he was a teenager, he’d decided to write a song himself. And…

               …and it was terrible.

               It was derivative (Stop wasting your breath with that damn music!); its melody was basic (I didn’t bring up some sissy boy who wails about love like a girl.); the lyrics were mediocre and not at all genuine (You get rid of those scribbles and you man up, or I will make you man up, claro?).  

               But he wasn’t going to let his fath—his opinions get in the way of being a musician. He was Ernesto de la Cruz. His fans wanted music, and he was going to give them music—even if he had to spend two weeks trying to edit it into something decent.

So really, he was not in the best headspace to talk about Miguel and whether he was thriving or whatever it was social workers wanted to know about kids. But Elena was insistent if nothing else. (The social worker was also very insistent on being called Elena, which didn’t help Ernesto’s reluctance. That wasn’t her fault; she was trying to make him comfortable, he knew, and it wasn’t like she knew her name was associated with disapproving glares and threatening chanclas.)

So here they were, her sitting in his computer chair with her clipboard as he put on the best Cruz smile he could and tried to look at ease. She was looking around the room appraisingly before writing a few notes down.

               “So is this where you record?” she asked.

               “Sí. We’ve been moving the recording equipment here now that Miguel’s here permanently.” He impressed himself by keeping those words neutral. “I’m mainly the one who uses it, to be honest.”

               “Yes, both Héctor and Miguel have said that all three of you are musicians,” Elena hummed, taking another note. She tapped her pen to the board, then looked up at him. “How do you feel about Miguel?”

               “He’s fine. He’s a pretty normal kid, I think, even with what happened with his parents.”

               “He doesn’t get into much trouble?”

               Ernesto shrugged. “Not with me. That’s Héctor’s job. Making sure he stays out of trouble, I mean.”

               Elena gave him a thin smile. “So I take it you aren’t very hands-on with him, then.”

               Ernesto shook his head. “He’s Héctor’s ward, not mine. I’m only in this picture because I live here.”

               “I see.” She scribbled down another note on her board. “And how do you feel about Miguel living here?”

               That it was an invasion of his space, that Héctor was completely ignoring everything but his own wants, that their lives would be infinitely better and back on track if Héctor would just let Miguel go back to Santa Cecilia.

               “It’s fine,” was what he said instead.

Elena nodded, looking up at him before taking another note down. “And when you’ve had to take care of Miguel, how does that usually go?”

Ernesto shrugged. “It’s not something that happens enough for me to have a set pattern. But I usually let him do his thing and make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” He let out a quiet breath through his nose, eyes flicking over to his computer screen, where his song sat mid-edit, mocking him. “Are we almost done? I’m a little busy right now and…”

               “Almost, almost.” She gave him a patient smile, which he returned thinly. He stayed quiet as she looked over her notes, tapping her pen to her lips. “I do want to talk about one incident, if you don’t mind. Miguel mentioned he went to one of your performances, when you were in charge of watching him. Apparently he got locked out. That…does raise some alarms for me, I’ll admit.”

               Ernesto’s eyes widened before he crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow curiously. “Does that sort of thing get an automatic fail?” he asked.

               She chuckled and shook her head. “Well, no, it’s hard to get an automatic fail if the child’s happy and healthy, and the home is safe and gives them a healthy environment, which so far has been the case.” She grew serious as she looked up at Ernesto again. “But I will need to know more about that situation; depending on what happened, it could mean that we’d have to review the case.”

               Ernesto kept his face very, very still as his mind raced. This could be it. This could be the moment that sent this stupid fantasy of Héctor’s toppling down and brought him back to reality. Ernesto would lay out everything: the 18+ venue, Héctor forgetting his teaching meeting, Miguel sneaking away and getting locked out in the cold before being picked up by complete strangers…honestly, he might even throw in Miguel tripping and busting his chin open. All of that was definitely enough to cast some doubt on Héctor’s ability as a parent, and then Miguel was as good as back in Santa Cecilia.

               Ernesto’s heart pounded in excitement, and he let his eyes flick over to his screen, where his terrible song sat mid-edit. That could be deleted. He wouldn’t need to force out some half-rate song if he had Héctor back. His co-writer would be back in action, his friend would be back at his side. It’d be perfect. “Seize your moment” had always been a fun slogan to sign off with up until now, but now, now that he had his career and future back in his grasp, he just had to reach up and…

               …no.

               No, he couldn’t. Not like this. It would feel too far out of Héctor’s control.

               Unconsciously, Ernesto’s hand curled into a fist as he glanced at his computer again. He couldn’t get Héctor back with this plan. For one thing, losing Miguel this way would make Héctor shut down, and then he still wouldn’t write. But more importantly, Héctor had to know himself that he wasn’t up to task to take care of Miguel. Having the social worker sweep Miguel away wouldn’t be a lesson; it’d just be an unfortunate thing that couldn’t be helped. Héctor had to see that he was wrong.

               “Could…you tell me about the club incident?”

               Elena’s voice snapped Ernesto out of his thoughts, and he looked down at her. He let out a long breath as he glanced one more time at the computer, then looked down at her with a small smile.

               “I promise, it sounds much worse than it was,” he assured. “Miguel wasn’t stuck out there for too long, and the girls who found him were the best he could have run into. I should have kept a better eye on him—the fact that it happened the way it did is tremendously lucky—and I promise, nothing like that will happen again.”

               Elena watched him, brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded and scribbled down a few notes. “That’s what it sounded like,” she hummed. “But I do still have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

               “Por supuesto, ask away.”

               The questions were fairly basic, and Ernesto kept his answers as non-alarming as possible. And, soon enough, Elena Marquez thanked him for his time, shook his hand, and left his room. Finally.

               He sat back down in front of his computer, pushing a hand through his hair as he looked over the song. Garbage. He’d just potentially sacrificed a chance at getting the best songs in Mexico back, all for a dumb kid who’d been nothing but problems since he’d arrived. And he was risking losing his audience by putting out a second-rate song that would prove he was the failure his father had always thought he was.

               Dios, he needed Héctor back.

               But for now, there was nothing to do but take a breath. And work on his terrible garbage song.

               And wait.

~

               “En serio, Héctor, what are you doing?” Even though Héctor was halfway in the cupboard under the kitchen sink, he could just see the way Imelda crossed her arms as she asked that.

               “I’m hoping…for…a…ay!” He yelped as he bumped his head against the sink’s drain, then grinned as he saw what he was looking for. And, after maneuvering his way out, he held up his prize for Imelda to see. “A miracle!”

               Imelda pressed her lips together, eyebrows raised. “A…fire extinguisher?”

               Héctor dusted himself off as he nodded, setting the extinguisher on the counter. “That was the one point she said I was missing: you need to have a fire extinguisher out and ready in case of an emergency. I meant to go get one earlier, but it completely slipped my mind.”

               Imelda raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know our apartments came with them.”

               “They don’t, but I mentioned it to Chich when we were taking the foam down from Miguel’s room this weekend. So either I have a lovely guardian angel who wants Miguel to stay, or I owe Chich a six-pack or two.”

               Imelda shook her head with a smile, stepping forward to brush a bit of dust from his shoulder before resting her hands on his arms. “Well, it seems like everything went well.”

               Héctor returned the smile, letting himself relax at her touch. “I think it might have, actually.”

               She raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a little smirk. “You know, I try not to say ‘I told you so’ too often, but I think now’s a good time to say it.” She leaned forward, nose almost touching his. “So I told you so.”

               He chuckled, closing the gap to nuzzle his nose against hers. “You know, diosa, you are fully entitled to pull the ‘I told you so’ card.” He pulled back, watching her for a moment before taking her hand. He pulled it to his lips, kissing her palm softly. “And thank you for telling me so.”

               Her fingertips pressed against his cheek gently, and he met her eyes with a smile before his gaze flicked over toward Miguel’s door. Amidst Miguel’s things from Santa Cecilia, a small, plain brown box sat, patiently waiting for Héctor to remember it.

Right.

               With the visit looming over him for the past few weeks, he’d almost forgotten. Now wasn’t quite the time he’d planned, but…well, if the visit went as well as he thought it did, then what was one more life-changing decision?

               “Héctor?”

               Héctor blinked, Imelda’s voice pulling him back from his thoughts. He looked down at her for a moment. No, no, not right now. But maybe…

               “Do…you have any plans tonight?” he asked softly. She blinked.

               “Well, no. I cleared the whole day for a visit.”

               His mouth turned up. “Well, then maybe…”

               He trailed off as he heard Ernesto’s door open, and he quickly pulled away to look at Elena Marquez as she stepped out. Right, he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to finish the visit first. He automatically gave her a smile as he turned to grab the fire extinguisher.

               “See? I told you we had one.”

               Elena blinked, then smiled. “So you do! I’ll take care of that note, then.” She crossed something out on her board, then looked over her notes for a moment. “Well, that just about concludes things, but we have a little bit of time left. I was hoping I could speak to you alone for a moment.”

               “Oh, of course. I just…” He turned to look toward Imelda, who nodded.

               “I’ll get out of your way. I told Miguel I’d help him with his math,” she said, quickly making her way toward Miguel’s room. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Señora Marquez,” she added before opening the door and stepping inside.

               “Did Tío Héctor pa—” They started to hear Miguel ask, but it was quickly cut off but the door shutting. Once things were quiet, Elena looked up at Héctor.

               “Well, overall, things look very good. The apartment looks fit for Miguel to live in—though I’d like to see that foam gone and a proper bedframe in soon.”

               “Por supuesto.”

               “And he looks to be much more than adequately cared for.” She gave Héctor a warm smile. “He was telling me how much he loves living here and learning from you. I think it’s clear that he loves you very much.”

               Héctor blinked, swallowing hard at the unexpected wave of emotion that hit him with her words. It wasn’t exactly news to him—of course Miguel loved him, they were family. But even so…hearing it from someone else made his heart swell almost uncomfortably in his chest. He cleared his throat and unconsciously mussed up his hair. “I…that’s, that’s really good to hear,” he said with a breathless smile. “I-I just, I want the best for him, you know? And I really want him to stay.”

               Elena nodded. “I know, Héctor. That’s also very obvious.” She pressed her lips together as she looked over her notes. “For the most part it all looks good, but…there is one hiccup.”

               Héctor blinked, dropping his hand as his eyes widened. “S-sí?”

               “There’s the incident of Miguel getting locked out of the club.”

               Héctor felt his stomach drop right to his feet. Stupid. He should have told Miguel to keep from…well, no, it was for the best Miguel was honest. After all, he’d just said that he wanted the best for him. And if something like that made him a bad guardian, well…

Héctor shook his head, then sucked in a breath as he braced himself for the bad news.

               “It…it was my fault,” he said after a moment. “I’d forgotten a meeting and…” He stopped as Elena held up her hand.

               “I’ve already heard from both Miguel and Ernesto, and that’s all I need.”

               Héctor’s brows creased, but he gave a quick nod. “Oh. Um, okay. All right.” He swallowed hard again, trying to ease the tightness from his throat. “If, if it’s all right to ask…how does that look? Overall?”

               Elena looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Well, it’s not perfect. And, I’ll be honest, chances are high that there’s going to be another visit once I send in my report.” Héctor started to wilt, but stopped as she set a hand on his arm and gave him another warm smile. “But no parent is perfect. And I think it’s clear to everyone who meets you that you want to give Miguel the best life you can, and that’s the exact thing I look for in my clients. So, if my next visit is as pleasant as this one was, then I can guarantee that you’ll have custody of Miguel.”

               Héctor looked up at her, then let out a long breath and smiled. “Thank you. En serio, Elena, thank you so much.”

               She gave his hand a shake with a smile. “The pleasure was all mine—and I’ll be sure to let your tía know that you did spectacularly. She was very concerned when I last spoke to her.” She pulled a card from her pocket, writing a few numbers down before handing it to Héctor. “You can expect to hear back in about two weeks, but if you have any questions or need any information, you can call any of those numbers, okay?” Héctor nodded, and she gave him a smile. “Then that’s all there is. I’ll probably be seeing you soon.” As she led the way to the door, she gave him a friendly wink. “And next time the fire extinguisher should be a little more easily accessible.”

               He gave a weak little laugh as he opened the door for her. Then, once she was out and the door was closed, he leaned against the wall.

               He’d…done it.

               He’d done it!

               He’d made it through the visit, the social worker told him he was doing well, and everything was actually on-track. In just a few short weeks, he’d know for sure if he had full custody of Miguel.

               His heart was so full it took every ounce of willpower not to let out a grito right then and there.

               There was so much to think about now! They had to get Miguel’s room fully furnished—make it somewhere really great for a kid to grow up(!) in. He had to really make sure that nothing like the club ever happened again—which, of course, it wasn’t, because that was a one-time fluke and if Héctor was going to be a fa—a guardian, then he wasn’t about to let his kid be in such a terrifying situation ever, ever again. He really should brush up on his cooking; Social Worker Elena hadn’t said anything about it, but once Tía Elena heard, she’d insist Héctor be able to cook her boy some decent meals.

               There was so much to do. A whole life that he’d never even considered six months ago had opened up to him, and he wanted to jump headfirst into it right now.

               But…

               Not alone.

               Quietly, he made his way over to the plain brown box, opening it up despite the fact that he knew the boots were still inside. They weren’t quite as elegant as what the other Riveras made, but even Tía Elena agreed that he’d made a fine pair of shoes anyone would pay a good price for—which was kind of funny, considering they all knew that these were priceless.

And after all that work, Imelda had to like them. Brown, sturdy, with a sensible heel and beautiful leatherwork around the eyelets—if there was ever a shoe that summed up Imelda, this was it.

And, honestly, it was so much more sensible than a ring.

               He carefully placed the lid back on the box, taking a deep breath. He could see it now: the family he’d always wanted, stable and loving and full to the brim with music and joy. It was still on the horizon yes, but it was within reach.

And the next step was right here: to open the door and tell Imelda and Miguel the good news. Everything else would follow, he was sure. And he couldn’t wait to start moving forward.

As always thank you all SO, SO much for reading, and a double-thank you for your patience while I was getting through a pretty rough few months. Wit and I appreciate you all so much for being so encouraging and understanding even when schedules get wonky. <3

Wit has the next chapter, so keep an eye on her blog! And be sure to check out some of the amazing Teacher AU stuff from other writers and artists if you haven’t yet! It’s a big ol’ party up in here.

(Also one year anniversary of this fic is sooooon so be ready for gushy pooooosts.)

[winterblues]

hey i rlly love your writing sm!! could you maybe do an andreil one for this prompt: imagine person A knowing person B hasn't been eating properly for the last few days so person A makes them a proper meal from scratch that they can both eat together to make person B feel better? thank you!!!

[Thank you for the lovely prompt & I apologize in advance for the Angst™.]

Neil wipes a bead of sweat from his temple with the back of his wrist and bares his teeth. He’s got that acute glimmer of feral aggression behind his eyes again, Andrew observes, dully.  

The sort of expression often native to a prowling jungle cat attempting to intimidate a potential threat into premature submission. Andrew can’t help but see it as a phenomenal waste of energy, getting worked up over a stupid practice scrimmage, at Kevin Day of all short-fused idiots. 

No matter how close Andrew allows Neil to get, he will never be used to his exhaustive thirst for victory.

How many more goddamn exy-obsessed morons do I have to babysit in this lifetime?
Across the court, Kevin’s got a firm grip on his racquet as he glowers behind the netting at Neil as if through the barrel of a gun. It’s a late fall evening and the sky is a patchwork of pink-gold clouds, the moon sits a shrivel of a crescent in the rapidly darkening distance. 

Andrew watches his teammates with his characteristic lack-of-character, expression neutral as he remains stationed in position, racquet balanced on his shoulders like an afterthought.

He can hear Nicky whinging to Matt about something inconsequential Andrew doesn’t care enough to inquire about, Renee and Allison have been exchanging subtle glances across the court for two-and-a-half hours now. 

During their last sparring session, Renee mentioned in passing that she’d found another sparring partner in Allison. “She wants me to teach her how to fight. Says she wants to be prepared for anything. It’s like she doesn’t trust the world as much after everything that happened with Seth and Neil’s consequent revelation. It’s sad but I think it’s awfully brave of her, don’t you?” Andrew had merely blinked at her, unamused, before grappling her into a headlock she hadn’t seen coming and raising a knife to her throat. “Oops,” he said. “You’re dead.”

It isn’t until Andrew hears Kevin strike that he notices the hesitation in Neil’s jaw just as he slams the ball with lethal force and his knees buckle. He stumbles not even half a second after and Dan grabs ahold of him before he can crumple to the ground. Andrew feels his heart skip a couple of paces just as Wymack blows his warning whistle, calling a timeout. Kevin gawks in mystification for a moment before breaking into a disapproving scowl.

“The hell was that, Josten?” Wymack snaps, striding over to Neil and crossing his arms over his big chest. “I’m fine,” Neil grunts. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right,” Wymack replies, with a smile that’s at least two-fifths deliberate condescension. “It won’t, because right now you’re about as useful to me as a vegetable. I’m benching you for the rest of today.”

“Come on, Coach!” Nicky shouts, jogging up to where everyone is now crowding around Neil like he’s some kind of a helpless dog they all accidentally ran over with their cars. “Let’s just call an early mark. Please? We could all use a break!”

“I don’t,” Neil spits, balling his fists to his sides; eyes rapt on Wymack’s. Idiot. Wymack shoots a steely glare right back at him. “You play in peak condition or you don’t play at all. I won’t tolerate this half-assed bullshit. You hear me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. Now go pick a cozy corner to sulk in and don’t return to my court until you’re bleeding stamina or I will knock you flat on your ass myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“But—“

“I said,” Wymack’s tone becomes dangerously taut. “Do I make myself clear?”

At this point, even Nicky shuts his trap and takes an obedient step back, his expression pleading at Neil to do everything within his power to not trip on the Coach’s last nerve.

“You’re being unreasonable,” Neil growls, lowly. Nicky shakes his head in exasperation, just as Dan smoothly interjects, “I think what Coach is trying to say, Neil, as that you seem a little under the weather today. Maybe rest up a little and take it easy for the evening so that you’re better equipped for practice tomorrow?”

“Yeah, man,” Matt chimes in. “We’re just worried about your health.”

Andrew brings his racquet down and leans his body weight against it, still watching quietly from the sidelines. Renee shoots him a concerned glance and Andrew pretends not to notice.

“It’s insulting,” Kevin cuts in, with eyes only for Neil as he crosses the distance between them and parks himself merely inches from where Neil is standing. Andrew can’t say he envies Neil. He knows firsthand Kevin’s tendency to invite himself into one’s personal space whenever he gets cranky. “You’re insulting us all. I don’t know what the fuck’s been going on with you, but you better get your shit together because your breakdowns have no place on the court. Now do as Coach says before you waste any more of everyone’s time.”

Kevin and Neil spend a solid minute exchanging mind-imploding death glares at one another before Neil caves. He doesn’t look happy about it, but he flips Kevin off, turns on his heel and trudges off the court. Andrew watches Neil carefully. The fight is slowly pilfered from his shoulders and he lets his chin droop against his neck. There is something volatile about his defeated posture as he ambles right past the stands and towards the showers. Wymack turns to Andrew, expression irked but knowing.

“Goodbye.” Andrew says, before casually trailing after Neil.

“There isn’t enough whiskey in the goddamn world to put up with you ungrateful asshats on a daily basis,” Wymack mutters, under his breath before blowing his whistle again. “That’s enough dilly-dallying, maggots! We can practice without Tom and Jerry for now. Drop the long faces and give me forty-five laps. We’ll reassemble then. Go, go. Fucking go.”

“Crowdpleaser,” Andrew mumbles, coming up behind Neil.

Neil looks up at him without meeting his eyes. “Agree to disagree.”

Andrew joins Neil in the shower and they kiss until their mouths are numb and then Andrew drives them back home. They’re barely halfway through the door when King Fluffkins trots up to them and curls himself, not unlike a clingy toddler, around Andrew’s boot. “Get your cat off my foot,” Andrew mutters, at once. Neil shrugs off his coat, shuts the door behind them and smiles faintly. “And deprive him of cuddles? That’s abuse. Plus, he likes you.” Andrew groans and has to peel the feline off himself as he cradles King Fluffkins in his arms and deposits him on the couch next to a lazing Sir Fat Cat McCatterson. “Do that again and I won’t hesitate to turn your furry ass into a winter coat.”

King Fluffkins looks unfazed at this remark, but a short laugh escapes Neil. 

Andrew will never admit it, but Neil’s laugh sends a jolt of spring warmth up his spine. The kind that wedges itself in between shoulder blades and seeps into his ribcage. It is so full of raw, fleeting feeling that it fills every gap inside Andrew to a brimming point. 

Andrew sourly notes Neil hasn’t laughed like that in a week.

“What did we discuss about threatening our cats at every given moment?”

“Your cats.”

“Right. Whenever they piss you off they’re my cats.”

Neil follows the cats’ bad example, dropping dead on his back on the lounge room sofa and allowing the pests to crawl up onto his chest. Andrew empties the litter, brings them fresh water and fills their bowls to the top with food before wandering into the kitchen.

The weather grows worse within the span of the hour. The rain is loud as fuck outside. The wind droning on like the hum of a distraught choir. He chops a fresh batch of mushrooms, carrots and green bell peppers. He separates all the vegetables and leaves a stockpot of water to simmer. The oven is preheating. He cooks in mindless silence, all the while wondering why Neil isn’t venturing in to watch him like he usually does. There is something upsetting fizzling beneath his skin, like an itch he can’t scratch. He has this shitty gut feeling—hot and incendiary; an interloper awaiting recognition. He spends longer than intended in passive contemplation and his stockpot begins to overspill.

Andrew lowers the temperature of the gas and yanks the lid off the pot, swatting the steam away as if it were a school of flies.

He finds cooking less boring than he finds most activities in his daily life. Bee says it’s because cooking is an act of creation, which makes it a common stress reliever. People feel better about themselves when they’re creating. 

Andrew doesn’t know about that, but it’s a layman’s job to follow a recipe. 

There is something vaguely satisfying about it, he thinks. Cooking is meticulous and straight to the point. It doesn’t take thinking if your hands know what to do and your mind’s prone to estimate. If the recipe demands half a slab of melted butter he won’t add a pinch more or less. He’s fairly adept at following instructions and doesn’t feel the need to experiment. 

If nothing else, cooking is a way to pass the time and is vital to survival.

Eventually, Neil does float into the kitchen, looking jaded. Andrew keeps himself busy with seasoning and pays him no heat. “I’m going to bed,” he says quietly. Andrew halts, grabs a wooden spoon and dips it into the pot nearest to him, still hot off the stove. “Come here,” he replies. Neil joins his side as Andrew blows softly on the liquid before holding a spoonful up to Neil’s mouth.

“Taste.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Taste.”

Neil pouts a little, but obediently leans in and takes the smallest sip. “Mm,” he nods. “What is it?”

“Hot and sour soup.” Andrew says.

“Will it taste better off of your lips?” He leans in questioningly but Andrew neatly sidesteps, leaving Neil fumbling. “Sorry,” Neil remedies, quickly. 

“I didn’t mean to—“

“You’ll consume it directly first.” Andrew answers, in lieu of an explanation.

“It’s really good. I’ll uh… Have some tomorrow if there’s leftovers.”

Neil is about to turn when Andrew wraps cold, gentle fingers around his wrist. “Dinner will be served in ten minutes. Go outside and take a seat on the dining table.”

Something dire flashes in Neil’s heady blue eyes. “Andrew—“

“Don’t argue with me.”

It’s a full-fledged three-course assortment of homemade meals and Neil stares at it like it’s making him nauseous just to look at it. To Andrew, it smells heavenly: steaming hot-sour soup and chicken à la king with a side of sweet potato wedges. Andrew feels a pang of something irritable inside his chest. He doesn’t quite care whether Neil likes it or not. He isn’t allowed to be a baby about this. Not any fucking more.

“Eat,” he prompts. “Eat or I will force feed it down your gullet, yes?”

Neil sighs and begins to scoop an insufficient portion onto his plate, rather halfheartedly. Andrew snatches the spoon from him and begins to serve Neil himself, making sure to get an equally ample portion of each item available before helping himself.

“You will explain as we eat.”

“What?”

“Drop the clueless act and stop being this pathetic.”

When Neil merely blinks at him Andrew scoots closer to Neil in his chair, making it creak in protest against the wooden floor as he grabs Neil’s chin in his hand. He lowers Neil’s head and allows his eyes to bore into Neil’s. He’s lost every remaining morsel of his patience. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“No.”

“You’re treating me like one.”

“I’m not trying to. Fuck. Everyone’s just constantly on my ass about everything all the time and so what if I have a bad day or two. Am I not allowed the privilege—?”  

“Fuck everyone,” Andrew’s voice is dull and combustible. “Do I look like everyone?”

At this, Neil lowers his gaze to Andrew’s lips, back to his eyes and something within Neil’s own softens.

“Of course not,” he replies, voice more subdued now.

“I’ve had enough of your mopey bullshit,” Andrew says, letting go of Neil’s chin.

“Explain.” Andrew demands.

“It’s not a big deal.”

Everything inside Andrew knots up like curdled milk. There is a visible tension in Neil’s shoulders that is no doubt going to escape in a torrent; without a moment’s notice. Andrew doesn’t even have to prepare himself for it. He just wants to face it headfirst.

Andrew draws his mouth into a thin line. “If you lie to me again I won’t sit here and tolerate it.”

“It’s not something you’ll want to hear.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew snaps. “Tick tock.”

Neil takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose and the words tumble out of his mouth like bullet shells. “I know that it’s naive but I thought he wasn’t going to be a problem, at least not for the foreseeable future. I will keep playing Exy until there is none of me left. That’s the deal. That’s how it goes but there are things I can’t control—if something happens to me? Something that makes me incapable of playing and—and then, he’ll turn the Foxes into collateral damage in my war.” Neil glances up to meet Andrew’s unflinching gaze. “Ichirou,” he says, the name sounding like a strained chord on a busted up guitar. “He flew down for a meeting and paid me a visit on a whim. He said things. He fucking—“ now there’s a keen rage seizing him. “He fucking threatened your life!”

“He’s threatened my life before.”

“Exactly! He’s made his point. I get it. We get it. This time, he was doing it to taunt me, to remind me that we’re all ultimately just pawns on his sick little chessboard. He’s screwing with me.”

Andrew leans calmly back into his chair and says nothing, waiting for Neil to calm down. At this point, Neil is seething, his breath choked out in rattled gasps. He’s got a white-knuckled grip on either end of the table.

“That wasn’t something I could stand. Listening to that bastard pompously claim all the things he could do to you, count off the ways he could make you disappear without a trace. Why should I have to put up with this crap? Why do I have to keep living beneath the Moriyamas’ shadow? Sitting there, listening to him recite what he’s capable of—hurting you. It reminded me that I’m still the Butcher’s son, that I should be raining hell down on anyone who even thinks of touching us—Touching you.”

Neil is shivering now, his words coming out in escaped sobs. His entire body’s a wreck. He’s a wreck.

Andrew’s stomach twists as conviction stronger than anything Andrew’s ever felt burns in Neil’s voice.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Andrew asks, promptly. 

“I—“

“What did I tell you?”

He watches the muscles work under Neil’s clenched jaw.

“To bury Nathaniel in Baltimore with his father.”

“Neil is your only truth from now on, or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t.”

“You cannot object what is irrefutable.”

“I won’t let them, Andrew. I can’t… Because that would be pathetic.”

“If there is a single part of you that is still Nathaniel, I do not want anything to do with it. Are we clear?”

Neil is at an utter loss of words before he attempts to gather himself, something unsteady flashing in his eyes. Andrew does not care if his truth is a harsh pill to swallow. Neil will learn. This is the man he chose to protect, the man he sleeps with, the man who is his.

Another irrefutable truth—Neil Josten; not some phantom burnout son-of-a-killer.


“Are you digging him back up?”“No. What’s dead is dead.”

“Good,” Andrew won’t admit the relief his words warrant. “I want you to remember you said that.”

“It’s just—“ Neil sighed. “I haven’t been able to eat or sleep since talking to him. I keep seeing your dead body at my feet or— or worse and I feel like throwing up. It’s that same, ringing sense of dread all over again. The dread I felt when Riko threatened you, before I made my decision to go to Evermore. All I can think about is the need to eliminate the threat. I want to kill him.”

“Don’t be irrational.”

“I can’t just let him get away with this.”

“That is exactly what you’re going to do. Neil,” Andrew says. “Yes or—?”

Bright eyes sharp as stained glass. “Yes.”

Andrew takes Neil’s hand in his own and presses it to the side of his neck, just beneath his jugular vein so that Neil can feel Andrew’s pulse beating underneath the skin there. “Not to indulge your creepy neck fetish or anything but,” he cups his own hand over where he’s holding Neil’s. “I’m here.”

“Whenever—if anything happens, I’ll still be here.” Andrew says. “Nod if you understand.”

Neil lets out another shaky breath and nods slowly, eyes steady on Andrew’s. Watching him unravel on his bad days is always somewhat of a stale realization. There is a part of Andrew that thinks it isn’t fair. When did things become this critical? Before… He wasn’t feeling unless he was feeling empty, the only time the world felt real was when he was standing at the edge of it, staring down at what could quite possibly be a bottomless death. He never used to know what to do with his hands, not until Neil had reminded him, anyway. 

“They’re your hands,” cigarette lounging lazily at the corner of lips chapped stupid, eyes so wide they could be confused for open sores, hair ruffled in the wind.

He’d wanted nothing.

Now he is surviving on that very nothing, cultivating a life from every breath that leaves nothing’s lips.

Careful what you fucking wish for.

Neil’s fingers are warm as they curl up to grip the back of Andrew’s neck. He still looks shaken, furious; as if he wants to turn the world on its head and fight it. There’s still an unkempt tenseness to his posture. Andrew hates it. 

“I don’t care,” Neil announces. “I don’t care if they kill me. Ever since I was born I’ve been ready to die if it comes down to it. That’s the philosophy I was raised on.”

Andrew reads the implication on his face even before he has to make it clear.

“They can’t have you.”

You think it’s cute throwing my own words back in my face?

“Still playing at rabbit?” Andrew says, after a pause. “You know better than to waste energy fretting over shit that you can’t control, or have you not learned anything?”
“My learning curve’s a horizontal line, remember?” Neil replies, a suggestive hint in the twist of his lips.

“Coincidentally the position you’ll be lying in your coffin when I’m done with you.”

“Death kink or neck fetish. Which one’s weirder? We should ask Nicky.”

“I hate you.”

“Me too.”

“I mean it.”

Neil’s fingers against his skin. Alive, alive. 

“That’s what I love about you.”

Andrew scoffs and pushes Neil’s hand off before turning back around in his chair. “Your food will get cold,” he mutters, tone finite.

“Okay.”

“The next time you skip a meal you can sustain on whatever the cats are having.”

“Thank you.”

They eat in the sort of silence that swells over a small town after it’s been ransacked by a hurricane but still left standing. It’s a dizzying, electric sort of silence. The sort you can feel in your bones. When they’re done, Neil helps clear the plates away and they pad up to their bedroom.

King Fluffkins follows as Sir Fat Cat McCatterson continues to doze in his delegated spot.

“That was the best dinner I’ve ever had. I’ll starve myself all the time if that means you’ll cook for me more often.” That dark look in Neil’s eyes has dissolved into something clearer as he rolls over onto his side and begins to press kneading kisses down the side of Andrew’s jaw.

“Shut up.”

“It’s true,” Neil’s words are muffled against Andrew’s heated skin. “You know last week, Nicky was treating all of us to dinner and he asked me what my favorite dish was and I told him I didn’t actually know. Dan and Matt totally freaked out.” Neil’s hand stills over Andrew’s cheek for a brief moment. “My mother never used to cook. I know how to whip up your standard meals. Enough to keep me going. Omelettes, sandwiches, breakfast burritos. You name it. I’ve pretty much got microwaving down to an art form too, but I’ve never eaten anything like… This.”

Neil leans over and presses a soft kiss to Andrew’s lips, the kind that spreads out like the petals of a flower.

“It tastes like real home food,” he smiles against Andrew’s face before gently meeting Andrew’s unwavering gaze. 

“You can touch me if you want.” Andrew’s voice is hoarse.

Neil looks slightly hesitant as he lets one of his hands gently slip beneath the hem of Andrew’s shirt.

Andrew closes his eyes at the contact. Neil’s touch is respectful, delicate, debilitating. Andrew’s skin is fever-warm against Neil’s cool fingertips. Andrew doesn’t want Neil to be able to detect the shortness of his breaths but he can bet Neil feels them.

“I’d like to extend my compliments to the chef,” Neil says, fingers faltering along the waistband of Andrew’s sweatpants. “Properly.”

Andrew grunts a quiet affirmation and Neil slides down, pulling the covers over his head. 

He pushes the covers away in quick retaliation.

Eyes intent on Neil’s.

“I want to see you.”

[nicolebradshawphotography]

Road Trip!! Part Three: Digital Tools

I hope y’al didn’t think I’d forgotten to update you on our road trip planning this week! ‘Cuz I didn’t. Yesterday was just my birthday, and I decided to take the day off and enjoy my personal holiday (I caught up on some much-needed sleep!). Anyway, this week’s road trip planning topic is covering all the digital tools and apps that I’m using to actually plan this road trip. I have to say, planning a road trip in the digital age is a WHOLE LOT easier than it was when I was a kid… We were old school- we used an actual paper map! It’s also a whole lot more fun, because you find attractions, museums, and parks that you might have otherwise missed! So, here are the apps I’m using to plan this road trip:

Roadtrippers: this is an app that was recommended to me by a wonderful group on Facebook called Girl Camper. There are a whole lot of really resourceful and independent women in that group who do exactly what we’re planning to do: road trip and camp their way across the United States. So, when they all recommended this app, I knew it was worth a try. Turns out, this is one of my new favorite things! It does have a $33/year fee, but it is well worth it! This app maps your trip, provides suggestions for places to stay, eat, and play, and also gives you stats like mileage, estimated gas expenditure, and number of hours of driving required. Seriously, if you’re planning a road trip of any sort, check it out!

Packing List: this is another gem of an app that I’ve come across! It’s $2.00 lifetime membership fee is MORE than worth it! This little app allows me to create packing lists for all sorts of things, with sublists in there, as well! For example, I have a Camping list, with sublists for my cook kit, pantry box, and equipment box, so I don’t have to go through the entire list to make sure I packed something! It has already saved me so much brain space! Bonus: it allows me to actually check things off as I pack them, and it lets me designate specific numbers of items (i.e. number of shirts!)!

Recreation.gov: this is an awesome little gem for all of us campers who like to use state an national parks to camp! It allows us to reserve camping spots in advance, as well as pay for them up front. I have found so many camp grounds around New Mexico that I knew absolutely nothing about beforehand! I’m excited to use this on the road to see where we are able to find spots to camp each night!

KOA: If you’ve never heard of the KOA chain before, well, now you have. This is their app, and it works just like any other hotel reservation app, except this is for their private campground locations! It’s easy to use, and includes all sorts of information about their different locations- seriously, some of these places have full-on waterparks on their premises!

Travelocity: I realize that there will probably be some nights where the weather is just too bad to be able to camp, or we might find ourselves in a location where a campground isn’t available. Because of this, this app is my go-to for finding local hotels and motels. I’ve been using it for years (the old gnome commercials sucked me in!) for travel of all sorts- booking flights and hotels where I either couldn’t, or didn’t want to camp, and so on.

NPS: this app is produced by the National Park Service, and it’s comparable to having your own personal park ranger, right in your pocket! They’ve programmed all sorts of information on ALL of the parks into this app. You can find basic visitor’s info, such as when the parks open, how much tickets/admission fees are, locations of ranger stations, maps, and so on, but you can also find information on the history, geology, biology, and other pertinent information on the park! Oh, and if you have a student going into 4th grade, or just finishing up 5th grade this summer, you should totally get this app and pair it with the NPS Every Kid in a Park pass, which basically gets your entire family into the parks for free!

Fotospot: I’m excited to try this app out! It gives you the location of different fun photo spots all over the country, and as a photographer, I’m always looking for fun backdrops to shoot against! However, I do caution people to use this app with a dose of common sense! I noticed when I looked at the suggested locations for Albuquerque, some of them were private residences (albeit interesting ones!), and these should NEVER be photographed- or even entered!- without the owner’s consent.

HearHere: this is another app I’m excited to try out! A few years ago, actor Kevin Costner teamed up with a few other people to create an app that allows you to hear the history of different locations throughout the Southern and Western U.S. (they’re working on the rest!). The app features 2-3 minute stories of all those statues, roadside history markers, and other often wondered about sites.

iExit: this app promises to give you recommendations for gas stations, lodgings, and restaurants for each interstate exit along your chosen path. As a mom who will be driving with 3 boys with very little patience, I’m excited to try this app out and see how accurate it is, because when those lunchtime hunger pains kick in, and echos of ‘no more sandwiches’ start ringing, I need to feed them quick!

Modern-day road trip planning has certainly become a whole lot easier, and a whole lot more fun through the use of apps that help provide information that we would have only stumbled across when I was a kid! I’m looking forward to using these digital tools, and seeing what they help us find and do. However, I also plan to keep a road map and compass in the car- just in case technology fails!

Next up on the to-do list: Car entertainment for kids! I’m putting together age-appropriate road trip journals for both Christopher and Joshua, as well as looking at other options for keeping them entertained along the way.

[suallenparker]

Philinda Fanfic: Behind the Scenes, Chapter 11

RATING: T

SPOILER: This is set in a Universe where Phil quit his Tony Stark babysitting duties after the first gig and returned to active field work. So, basically their backstories stay the same until after the first Iron Man Movie.

SUMMARY: After her former partner Phil Coulson almost got killed in action, the traumatized SHIELD agent Melinda May returns to duty. She and Phil  go undercover as contestants of the celebrated TV show “Forever Love” to catch a stalker and to trip a traitor.

NOTES: See Chapter 1. This took forever because a) Life is still nuts and I’m usually too tired after work to do much of anything and b) this chapter is a monster! Thank you all for your support! I had fun writing this (we’re finally getting to the more juicy bits!)  and I hope you still enjoy it too! Please let me know what you think. :)

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o0o

Chapter 11: One on One in which Diane finally gets her date.

She hadn’t noticed anything. Nothing.

How the hell could she’ve missed the connection between the Rebecca and Anisa?

And why?

Because of Phil Coulson and acting powers and her stupid heart. This was a job and she was better than this.

She should’ve noticed something!

Melinda wiped away some sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she ran.

Sure, Phil usually was better at that relationship stuff and he didn’t pick up on it neither, but he hadn’t been living with Anisa for almost two months!

God, this was bad.

Rebecca may not have been the stalker they had been looking for, but she easily could’ve been!

Melinda switched up the gears on the treadmill and speeded up. She would’ve preferred to go on an actual run to work off some energy, but the work out room of the Forever Love mansion.

Next to her, Audrey worked on a cross-trainer.

Lorelei was on a one on one with Eric right now, which hurt, which was stupid and another reason why she needed to step up her game. She needed to be more focused, more observant.

She was here to protect Maggie and these wonderful women, who deserved so much better than this.

Rebecca wasn’t a threat. She was out of the show to keep everything going, but she wasn’t a threat. Which meant the real threat was still out there so she couldn’t allow herself to mindlessly flirt with Coulson.

Just because she had lost her heart didn’t mean she had to lose her brains too.

“Could I talk to you all for a moment?” Anisa asked from the door way.

Melinda almost stumbled on the treadmill. How the hell could she’ve missed Anisa opening the door?

Audrey gracefully stepped off the cross trainer. “Of course!”

Melinda switched off the treadmill and grabbed a towel.

“I just …” Anisa pulled up her shoulders while she hid her hands behind her back.

“I didn’t know Rebecca would do something like that. If I would’ve thought she’d ever be a threat to Eric I would’ve told them about us, I swear!”

Of course everybody had found out once Garrett had escorted Rebecca off the premise two nights ago. Anisa had been hiding ever since. She looked exhausted.

Audrey crossed her arms.

Melinda just waited.

Anisa sighed. “I never wanted any of this to happen … God, you must hate me.”

“We don’t hate you,” Audrey said.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Melinda asked. Keeping that sort of information a secret was just stupid.

“We broke up so long ago, at first I didn’t even recognize her, with that camera in her face all the time and …” Anisa shrugged. Were there tears welling up in her eyes? “We didn’t end things badly, I have no idea why she’s doing this.”

A tear rolled down Anisa’s cheek. “I’m so so sorry,” she said.

God, this was wrong! Rebecca and Anisa had done nothing except for not revealing their former relationship.

“You couldn’t know this would happen,” Melinda said quickly.

Audrey nodded and rubbed Anisa’s arm.

“I feel so foolish. I should’ve just said something, I should’ve -” She stopped talking when they heart a group of people coming towards them.

That could only mean one thing in this house.

Anisa quickly wiped away her tears, just in time before Peter, Javier and a film crew appeared in the door way.

“There you are, ladies!” Peter said and spread his arms in a grand gesture as he smiled at them. As always, he looked perfect in grey suit and blue shirt. No tie this time.

That man was ridiculously handsome.

“Did we miss something?” Javier asked.  Could you guys go back for -”

That man just pissed Melinda off.

“Nothing happened,” Audrey said quickly. “We just finished our training, right girls?”

Anisa and Melinda nodded sternly. The crew didn’t have to film everything!

“Fantastic, we’ve got a little surprise.” Javier said but he looked at them skeptically. “Could you all maybe freshen up a bit and come to the lounge room in fifteen minutes?” he asked.

An hour later, they were finally ready to start shooting. All of the five women currently not on a date with Eric sat around on one of the big plushy sofas. At least this time they got to wear jeans and t shirts instead of cocktail dresses.

Peter stepped in front of them as the camera behind them probably captured his perfectly lid face right now.

“Ladies,” he said, “you all look fantastic but unfortunately I only bring a letter for one of you.” He made a dramatic pause.

It took Melinda all her self control to keep her from rolling her eyes.

“Diane,” he said. “Tonight I’ve got a special letter for you.”

It felt like her heart stopped! Next to her, Katherine and Audrey gasped when Peter took out a golden envelope from his jacket.

“Oh my god!” Melinda shouldn’t feel as nervously excited about a fake letter from a fake person, but …

She quickly opened the envelope and pulled out a handwritten note from Phil. God, if that note could just be from Phil, she would be happy.

As she read his words, a smile crept on her face.

“What does it say?” Audrey asked.

“Dear Diane, please dance with me into the night. Yours, Eric.” Kind of cheesy. It was ridiculous to get this happy about a date with a fake person. But finally there it was. Diane would get her one on one with Eric.

“That sounds so romantic!” Anisa said.

“There is more.” Peter said.

All the women looked at him. “More?”

Peter smiled. “Eric had a little present delivered to your room, Diane.”

o0o

Phil clenched his hands just to keep them from tapping against the sides of his legs.

He and Hand stood in front of a beautifully renovated hotel from the twenties with stone walls and golden applications around all the wooden doors and window frames.

The sun was still shining as it was early morning, so the crew had forgone to put up candles on the drive way, but the obligatory flower arrangements were still there.

Such a shame to waste flowers like that, but Phil had to admit, everything looked stunning.

Hopefully Melinda would like it.

For some reason he thought it would be a good idea to kick it old school with Melinda so that was why he stood here in a black tux and fancy oxfords in black and white as Hand powdered his shiny forehead.

Melinda'd probably roll her eyes as soon as she would see him. And this.

Because this wasn't really her style. - Which was exactly why he had planned this date for them. A date for Diane and Eric.

If he would ever get the chance to take Melinda somewhere he would choose something low key, maybe a small restaurant or just a walk somewhere and after food off a food truck.

Or he would cook for her at his place. Maybe she would like that.

He swallowed hard.

No, she wouldn't. Because she didn't have feelings for him. Not like that. And he was a fool.

“Breathe,” Hand mumbled, “and keep your hands still. Shaking doesn't look good on camera.”

He glared at her but said nothing.

“Five more minutes,” Maggie yelled.

Five more minutes until Melinda would arrive.

Maggie walked over the drive way and towards them.  “You look great, Eric!” She quickly patted his arm, before she moved on. “Someone move that flower pot to …”

Around them, everybody was moving. The light team was busy setting up extra lamps and those weird white reflectors.  The sound people checked out the sound system and three camera teams set up their equipment. He could see Natasha Romanoff set up a camera right in front of the beautiful hotel doors.

Because of course the black widow knew how to operate a movie camera.

“It’s good that Nat is here,” he said. “It’s good. Another pair of eyes doesn’t hurt.”

“Hm.”

“Think we’ll catch them soon? Did Nat say anything to you?”

“No new intel, sorry.”

So he had to continue with this charade. That meant more overly romantic dates with Melinda May. Kissing Melinda May.

Fantastic.

“You’ve never been this nervous with any of the other women.”

“I know.”

“Know what you’re doing?”

“Just my job. And so is she. I know that.”

A black limousine drove up towards the hotel.

Melinda was here.

He was so screwed.

o0o

She stepped out of the limousine and his heart skipped a beat.

“You look breathtaking,” he said and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Absolutely beautiful!”

Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, her eyes looked soft and her lips looked so cherry red, he could only think about tasting her.

“Thank you.” Melinda smiled at him and twirled in her golden ball gown with lacy details around the sweet heart neckline. The full skirt with tiered ruffles swayed as she twirled. “So this is what you’d like to see me in?”

“Which little boy doesn’t dream about dating a Disney princess?” He grinned.

She raised a brow. “Well, enjoy it while it lasts because as pretty as it is, I won’t be able to keep this look up on a daily basis.”

“That’s alright.”

“Too generous,” she said dryly and he felt himself blush.

One moment he thought he was doing well flirting with her and the next he just put his foot in his mouth again. “No, I mean I like your dresses and how they show your legs and …”

“So you’re a leg men, hm?”

Oh good, she was just mocking him!

She smiled at him. “If you treat me well, I might just show you a little bit of my ankle before the night is over.”

“Be still, my heart can’t take this!”

She laughed and he just felt happy.

Ten minutes later they walked into the big ball room, her hand resting on his offered arm.

Melinda stopped as soon as they walked through the swing doors. “Oh …”

“You like it?”

“It’s … ” She swallowed and nodded.

The room was big enough to hold two hundred people but now it was empty except for a single table and two chairs. White roses everywhere in the room. Hundreds of them. He knew microphones and cameras were placed in some of them. And of course there was Nat following them with a camera.

The table was set beautifully, too. White porcelain and polished silverware. Crystal glass.

“Not too much?”

“Definitely too much! But I like it.”

“Very good. Because I won’t be able to keep this up on a daily basis either.” He tilted his head and raised a brow. “May I lead you to our table?”

o0o

After dinner, the sun started to set. As two waiters cleaned their table, three violinists showed up in black dresses and started playing music a romantic tune. Lightly treading people in black carried in at least thirty candle holders in various sizes and distributed them around the room.

“You really went all out, didn't you?” Melinda asked.

“Go big or go home.” He stood up and reached out his hand.” Would you like to dance?”

“I'd love to.” She took his hand and he lead her to the middle of the room. - Since they had all this space, why not use it?

They got into position and started to dance. A slow waltz.

This felt familiar. This felt like their early days. He swirled her around and pulled her back against him.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Definitely not our worst date.”

“Worst date?”

“You made me cook!”

He grinned. “And we all survived.”

“You’re not as funny as you think.”

His grin just widened.

“You’re just lucky you’re so handsome.”

Yeah, that was definitely Diane talking, still it made his heart skip another beat.

He saw Nat following them with a camera as he turned them around again. - This was a show. This wasn't real.

He cleared his throat. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Very smooth.”

“That’s me, smooth and handsome – your words. And humble, of course.”

She snorted. “Of course.”

“But seriously, what brought you here?”

“On the show?”

“Every week that passes and you stay … I can’t believe my luck.”

“Your eyes.” She lifted her chin and looked up to him.

Nothing would be easier to lean down and to kiss her. With Nat's camera on them – and most likely two other hidden cameras – she would kiss him back.

And that was exactly why he didn't do it. He wanted it too much for the wrong reasons.

“I saw your video and you’ve got very kind eyes,” she said quietly. “And the world can be a cruel place … “ She gave a little shrug. “You seemed like someone who worked to make it better.”

Something in her tone made him perk up. By now they were swaying on a spot. He wasn't sure if it qualified as dancing any longer.

“I loved my job. The … the army. I loved to fight. I loved it.”

She pressed her lips together and he just waited.

“I went to some dark places and …”

He rubbed her back and she looked down and over his shoulder. He made sure to move them so that Nat would catch his face instead of hers. He knew what was next. Diane's backstory wasn't pretty and though it was fake, fake Eric knew better than to expose Diane to any obvious camera.

“We were in this village and there was this girl and she …” Melinda pulled in a breath. “She had a bomb. She would’ve … She could’ve hurt so many people.”

The hairs on his neck stood up. This wasn't part of Diane's story.

“We thought the girl was a victim. We were wrong.” Melinda looked at him again. “I didn’t know how else to stop her.”

The girl? Oh my god. Bahrain. She was talking about Bahrain. “You saved them,” he said. “You saved the village.” Weak words. He wished they were alone. He wished he could talk to her as himself.

She looked at him again. The expression in her eyes broke his heart. “I killed a child,” she whispered.

He knew what ever had happened had been bad, after all the girl had died, but this … this was so much worse. No wonder she had quit after that.

He wished he had known. He wished he could've been more useful afterwards.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” he said and felt stupid.

“Still think you’re lucky I stayed?”

“Very.”

She pressed her lips together, tears welled up in her eyes. When he pulled her closer, she leaned in and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

He held her tight for the longest time.

o0o

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[flightyrock]

Ectober Day 6: Ghost Hunger

I owe everyone a bit of an explanation before we dive into this fever dream.  Yes, I know exactly what ghost hunger refers to, but it just isn’t my thing.  It’s a neat concept, but I don’t really find it fun to write for, or even read, except in the rarest of cases.  I can stand it if it advances an innovative plotline, but just for its own sake…meh.

So I didn’t have any idea what I was going to do for day 6.  I considered skipping it, but that felt like admitting defeat.  With this in the back of my mind, I was scrolling through tumblr, as one does, and found this lovely piece by @schnivel.

One of my favorite things about schnivel’s style is the dynamic quality all of his characters have. I don’t know how to explain it, but it draws the viewer in, and sells that these characters are real.  Complex emotions are portrayed and conveyed with such ease, I get that creative itch every time.  I love everything in your art tag, it makes me so happy.  Thank you for sharing!

But anyway.  In this particular piece, I love the angle of the external light and the ambient light radiating from the suspiciously viscous fluid clinging to his hands.  I think it was the combination of the fluid consistency, color choice, and blood connection that did it.

So as my mind tends to do when I’m tired and see something emotionally charged, it took a running nosedive off the deep end into absurdist territory.

So here is a fic inspired by color choice, texture, and my traumatic experiences with product promotion as a child of the 90s and early 2000s.  I am so sorry but also kind of not.  Please forgive me, schnivel.  Thank you so much for letting me ruin the mood.  And seriously, check out schnivel’s blog!

 (Sorry for all the notes.  Commentary at the end.)

Summary:  When a popular variety of novelty ketchup is discontinued, the ghost population of Amity Park clashes over who will claim the last box.

Warnings:  Customer service feels, light innuendo

Word Count: ~1700

“You do realize that’s disgusting,” Sam deadpanned, looking on with a mixture of mild horror and disgust as Danny smothered his hotdog in a quantity of green slime that could only be defined as excessive.  Somehow it was impossible to turn away.  Tucker didn’t seem to share the sentiment, busying himself with his PDA.

Spurred on by the attention, Danny looked Sam dead in the eyes, staring unflinchingly into their icy, amethyst depths while cramming as much of the sandwich into his mouth as possible.

Only to aim a tad low, bumping into his lower lip.  Time seemed to slow down as blue eyes widened comically in surprise, hand contracting around the bun reflexively, coaxing gobs of the novelty ketchup to ooze out the back and coat the front of his favorite t-shirt, soaking into white fabric with karmatic vengeance.

Sam and Tucker witnessed the following shift from shock to sudden horror at the state of his shirt became clear.  They glanced at each other, unprompted, then lost it completely, howling with laughter as Danny dropped his ‘dog to scrub frantically at his chest with a wad of the worse-than-useless paper napkins the school provided that screamed government subsidy. His response time was impressive, but the damage was done: a prominent, verdant dribble trail clearly illustrated the tragedy that unfolded at lunch that day.

“Are you kidding me? I still have half the day to go,” Danny moaned, hands running anxiously through already messy hair.

“Just phase it off!” Tucker pointed out helpfully, returning to his PDA as chuckles died down into amused sympathy.

“Tuck, intangibility doesn’t remove stains.  It’s set too far in the fabric.  Otherwise laundry would be so much easier.  Hmm.” Danny took a moment to consider the potential, wondering if that was how Vlad managed to keep his ghostwear so pristine. Maybe if he could concentrate his focus…

“You had it coming.  I don’t understand why you insist on consuming that promotional garbage.” Sam rolled her eyes derisively.

“Because it’s the best!” Danny insisted.  Sam and Tucker shared a look, resigned to their friend’s strange obsession.

Danny didn’t know what it was, but ever since that popular condiment brand out of Pittsburgh developed a line of novelty ketchup, he was hooked.  It came in all sorts of unappetizing colors, like green and purple, and the cringe-worthy ad campaign made Danny wonder if the whole thing was an elaborate prank.  But it eventually showed up at the discount food distributer his family frequented, and he bought it himself, despite Jazz’s teasing.  Funny.  He swears he’s caught her using it more than once when she thought he wasn’t around.

While Jazz was exasperated by the blatant exploitation of the mindset of the lower middle working class, Sam objected to the artificial dyes and preservatives, and Tucker insisted it was nothing less than an insult to the integrity of meat, whatever that was supposed to mean. Maybe the dye makes it taste a bit different.  Maybe he just gets a kick out of eating food in weird colors and watching his friends squirm.  Heck, maybe he’s just been desensitized by enough mutant, home-cooked meals that something so harmless but strange fills him with nostalgia.  Whatever the case, Danny couldn’t seem to get enough of the stuff.  He even started taking it to school with him as a fun way to avoid looking too closely at what was on his tray.  

“Uh oh, dude,” Tucker chuckled, bringing up a specific news article on his PDA.  “Looks like your days of ruining hot dogs are numbered.”

“You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding,” Danny begged.

“Afraid not,” Tucker grinned, sliding his tech across the table to deliver the news firsthand.

Blue eyes widened in horror, before the teenager collapsed onto the table dramatically with a moan. “Why is it that as soon as I discover something awesome, it’s gone?”

“Honestly, that’s probably why it appeared on the shelves at Hubert’s in the first place,” Sam remarked flippantly, preferring to pick at chipping nail polish than acknowledge the lump of pouting teenager currently occupying half the table.

“Yeah, brand names are always too good to be true in places like that,” Tucker nodded sagely, patting Danny on the shoulder in mock sympathy.

Danny hauled himself upright with a sigh.  “Nothing else for it.  I’ll just have to go after school and stockpile all the bottles I can.  They can’t be out yet.”

“How are you out?!  It was just here less than a week ago!”

But the dramatics of a ketchup-crazed teenager were no match for the practiced apathy projected by the young but seasoned customer service guru manning the register, six hours into a ten hour shift.  

“Look, man, I just work here.  There’s plenty of purple,” she sighed, glazed eyes carelessly roaming to glace at the condiments section, poking at her monitor screen.

“It doesn’t taste the same,” Danny moaned, prompting a significant look to pass between the duo accompanying him. They had no idea why they thought it would be a good to tag along on this juvenile side quest.  This was just embarrassing.

“Huh,” the cashier remarked offhandedly.  “Looks like we might have one more box in the back.  I’ll go check, if you want…” she trailed off unenthusiastically, distracted by the hopefully bobbing shock of black hair that wouldn’t leave her alone unless she made a show of effort.  With a long-suffering sigh, the underpaid civil servant shuffled off to the back, teenagers at her heels until she ducked behind a wildly swinging door, a scuffed sheet of plastic shoved haphazardly into the gateway in a pathetic effort to separate customer-friendly space from the chaos of the warehouse.

The friends waited attentively, then with growing annoyance, Sam scuffing the chipping tile with heavy boots as the minutes ticked by.  Around fifteen minutes in, Tucker decided to call it.

“I think she just blew you off, dude.”

“No way,” Danny insisted. “She’s just being thorough.”

At that moment, a familiar figure slouched out from behind the off-white mockery of a barrier. Danny drooped visibly at the lack of bottles in her arms.

“Welp, I found it.”  Danny perked up.  “Where is it?”

“In the back.”  She continued to amble through the aisles, not even bothering to glance at the irritating customer as she returned to the front.  Danny followed her, confused.

“And?” he ventured.

“What?” she asked, uncapping a company pen to doodle on a scrap of receipt paper, pointedly ignoring the nuisance in the vain hope it would leave her in peace.

Danny barely restrained himself in time to prevent throwing his arms up in exasperation.  “Can I have some?” he dared to ask.  The girl acted like she didn’t hear him, outlining a cartoonish face with care, allowing him to stew for a while.

She finally raised hazel orbs full of resignation to meet his.  “You somehow manage to get it down, you can just have it.”  The just leave me alone was implied.  Heavily.

Danny lit up.  “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him away, returning to her receipt sketch.

“Thanks!” Danny called over his shoulder, already on his way to claim his prize.

“That was kind of weird,” Sam observed.

“Oh, come on Sam, why do you have to be so pessimistic all the time?  She probably couldn’t reach it.  All Danny has to do is float up to the shelf, and we’re out of here,” Tucker said, confidently leading the way into the dark space, the main light coming from a desk equipped with a dated microwave and littered with the remains of hurried lunches.

It was kind of weird being behind the scenes.  The air felt heavy, stale.  It was difficult to shake the uneasy feeling that they dismissed, at first, with being in a restricted area, but that quickly faded into the background.

A puff of cold air suddenly expanded, forcing its way up a certain ghostly throat and expelling in a bluish cloud as it forced vapor in the surrounding air to condense.

“Nice going, Tuck,” Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder.

Danny ignored the exchange, quickly “going ghost” and floating up to investigate.  And was not at all surprised to find the Lunch Lady and the Box Ghost playing a less-than-friendly game of tug-of-war with the box of sauce.  Okay, maybe he was surprised; he didn’t know either of them had a subtle bone in their bodies…if they had bones.  Or bodies. Gah.

He was honestly kind of impressed that they had avoided detection for so long, and wondered if the cashier’s composure spoke to her merit, or to the horrors of customer service. Danny resolved to be nicer to customer service associates.

From there, it was “doom” this and “beware” that.  Danny threw some ectoblasts, repelled some processed meat products, brushed off some boxes.  It was amazing how much more annoying the two of them were working together.  But, still, not even really a challenge, so the half ghost made short work of the duo, while trying not to think too hard about the implications of this team up.  A certain young ghost from an alternate future came to mind…

Danny chased the pair off, trying not to think about the two of them sharing a thermos.  He was all too glad to claim his prize and head home. It had been an interesting afternoon.

Despite the strange start, the pair of friends thought that the day was pretty successful.  As a result, neither Tucker nor Sam were expecting the caricature of despair that greeted them on the front steps of Fenton Works come morning.  

“Dare we ask?” Sam muttered.

Tucker sighed, shaking his head.  “He’ll let us know soon enough.”

Somewhere in Wisconsin, a certain blue-skinned half ghost emerged from his portal, shiftily checking the entrance before ducking through with his prize.

What am I doing?  I live alone.

Still, one could never be too careful.  It wouldn’t do to have Daniel catch wind of this.  He certainly would never admit it, but he couldn’t help the strange nostalgia it inspired; the off-putting color instilled him with a strange longing for cheap meals of questionable quality cooked with a certain pair of paranormal science students.  He still had his dignity after all.

A/N:  Anyone who’s ever worked retail knows the best way to get rid of a persistent customer and score an extra break in the process is to “check” the back.  Seriously, most places know what they have in the back due to the magic of inventory, but for some reason, that middle-aged woman with too much makeup will not leave us alone, insisting we check the back because she thinks we’re idiots (you know the type). And how dare we come back without checking thoroughly.  The cashier probably found the ketchup in less than a minute, determined retrieval was impossible, then spent the rest of the time on her phone.  Of course, like 10% of the time, there really is extra in the back so I can’t exactly fault them, but we could do without the condescension.

So…yeah.  I think my mind kind of mashed together the fact that the show took place in the 2000s with the fact that ketchup looks vaguely like blood, and the drawing used the two major colors of Heinz’s horrendous EZ Squirt line.  As a child who begged for this ketchup, then refused to eat it, I can understand the initial appeal, but it got gross fast, and I didn’t finish the bottle. What can I say, it tasted off to me. I feel like I read about some human instinct regarding food safety contributing to that at some point.  But I still remember this product, especially the commercials, with horror.

Thank you so much to @schnivel for the inspiration!  Hope everyone enjoyed it!

[wsmith215]

Driveways, canyons, pools – NFL players create clever workouts

A farm. A field. A canyon. A pool. Even a driveway. As NFL players wait for a return to normalcy before the 2020 regular season begins, they have had to get creative with how and where they train.

The ripple effects of these unprecedented times — nationwide social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic and an unknown timetable for a vaccine — have altered the professional sports landscape, and the NFL is no exception.

NFL commissioner Roger Goodell authorized the reopening of all team facilities this week, in accordance with state and local regulations, although coaches and players who are not undergoing rehabilitation are prohibited from entering team buildings. While a handful of clubs took advantage of this allowance, states such as New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Virginia, Michigan, Illinois, Washington and California are still imposing heavier restrictions that affect a dozen team facilities.

2 Related

These inconsistent regulations have also changed the responsibilities of NFL strength trainers, who have spent time remotely assessing the workout needs of players, including their access to resources, as well as acting as liaisons for online equipment purchases. NFL teams were permitted to provide each player with up to $1,500 worth of workout equipment. Nevertheless, players have had to find inventive ways to stay in shape.

Minnesota Vikings quarterback Kirk Cousins uses his parents’ driveway as his outdoor gym. New York Giants wide receiver Golden Tate mowed a track into a steep canyon near his home. Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver James Washington designed a training regimen on his Texas farm. New Orleans Saints linebacker Demario Davis has his personal trainers living with him. Giants linebacker Blake Martinez became the beneficiary of a state-of-the-art gym. And Cleveland Browns punter Jamie Gillan grabbed some beers and built a “grubby” garage gym.

Even though players’ locations, living situations and resources differ, there’s a lesson shared by all: There are no excuses.

Vikings quarterback Kirk Cousins says of his training at his parents’ house in Orlando, Florida: “Being out in the driveway, on display for the whole neighborhood to see is probably less than ideal.” ESPNBig-money quarterback staying with parents

The playful jab is uttered without warning, hurled from the driver’s side of a passing vehicle.

“Go Pack, go!”

And in that moment of lighthearted jest, Kirk Cousins can only ignore it. He knows the stop sign in front of the house makes him a sitting duck every morning.

Four times a week, starting promptly at 9 a.m., the Vikings quarterback gathers equipment from the garage and arranges it neatly on the long, curved pavement leading from his parents’ house to the sidewalk. Resting on a wooden chair is his laptop, connected by videoconference to his longtime personal trainer, Chad Cook, who is 450 miles away in Atlanta. This is a glimpse into what constitutes the 2020 NFL offseason.

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“I like my privacy, so being out in the driveway, on display for the whole neighborhood to see is probably less than ideal. But desperate times call for desperate measures,” Cousins said with a smile during a recent ESPN interview. “If it means a guy drives by in a truck and yells, ‘Go Pack, go!’ at me while we’re working out, then so be it.”

The manicured lawns of this Orlando, Florida, suburb serve as a backdrop to Cousins’ regimen and his attempt at normalcy in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic.

It’s not a “home gym” by any means, Cousins concedes, but he insists he has everything he needs: a medicine ball, jump-rope, foam rollers, free weights and a football. And, the most essential tool of all: the laptop he uses to connect with Cook.

“[Every car will] see me doing my shuffles across the driveway, or my cariocas, or doing the jump-rope or different plank exercises, core work, medicine ball, lunges — whatever it may be. And different people honk or wave, so it’s kind of fun,” said Cousins, who signed a two-year, $66 million extension with the Vikings in March.

Spotty Wi-Fi is a challenge when working out outdoors, but sheltering in place with his parents was by design: The nine-year veteran and his wife, Julie, now have plenty of reinforcements when it comes to taking care of their sons, Cooper, 2½, and Turner, 1.

“I kind of laugh when I talk about having two like I have 10,” Cousins joked, “because compared to other guys in the league who have three, four, five, six kids, having two is not a big deal.”

Dealing with this adversity has reaffirmed his commitment to his craft. It also taught him that the Public Broadcasting Service can be a football player’s, as well as a father’s, best friend: “‘Daniel Tiger[‘s Neighborhood]’ on PBS can be a lifesaver.”

An underwater workout? Saints linebacker Demario Davis doesn’t bat an eye when his trainers suggest some aqua methods to stay in shape. Courtesy of Demario Davis’Strict training mode’ means living with trainers

The plan was to be in Nashville, Tennessee, for a month, but Demario Davis‘ offseason residence has become his permanent dwelling during the pandemic. His 7,500-square-foot house, purchased last offseason, is a saving grace of sorts, equipped with enough room for his wife, Tamela, and their four children under the age of 6.

And his two personal trainers.

Davis’ trainers, Jose Tienda and Piankhi Gibson, typically work with him in two-to-three-week “strict training mode” spurts before heading back to their respective homes. They’ll return to Nashville soon for another extended stay with Davis.

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As the 31-year-old enters his ninth NFL season — and the final year of his contract — he is determined not to lose ground to a youngster who might be aiming for his spot.

Mid-morning acupuncture and soft tissue work with Tienda give way to afternoon aqua training in a neighbor’s pool with Gibson. Davis pauses for dinner and to help put the kids to bed. But before long, he’s headed back for more body work. He crawls into bed around 12:30 or 1 a.m. on those rigorous training days.

With Louisiana still reeling from 35,316 confirmed COVID-19 cases (and 2,485 reported deaths) as of Thursday, Davis wasn’t surprised Saints coach Sean Payton — who was the first known NFL figure to test positive for the coronavirus — announced there would not be virtual workouts, meetings or workout sessions at the team facility.

“The virtual offseason really wouldn’t have fit the flow of how we operate down there,” the veteran linebacker said of the Saints, who have one of the oldest rosters in the NFL. “We don’t have a young team. … He knew with our experience level, the strong leaders we have at each position, that we’d get it done as far as training.”

While Davis is eager to play, he said he won’t waste time guessing when the season will start.

“The pandemic don’t know nothing about football season. The virus ain’t just like, ‘Oh, football season’s coming, let me chill out,'” he said with a laugh. “So I’m going to train and stay in shape because that’s just a philosophy of mine — you stay ready at all times. But I think it’s a discredit to people who are on the front lines working, and the people who are being affected by it, when we’re just thinking about how fast we can get back to sports.”

Browns punter Jamie Gillan and his father, Colin, constructed a squat rack in the garage. Courtesy of Jamie Gillan’Grubby little gym’ becomes labor of love

The police officers approached without warning.

Jamie Gillan had been punting on a turf field almost an hour away from his Tremont, Ohio, residence, completely unaware of the state’s shelter-in-place orders. With nonessential businesses closed, the Browns punter — nicknamed “The Scottish Hammer” — had used local fields to practice his kicking drills. That is, until he was no longer allowed.

“[The officers] were like, ‘Yeah man, we want to let you punt. We love the Browns and everything, but it’s just the rules,'” the Scotland-born special-teamer explained in his thick brogue.

Faced with the prospect of quarantining alone, Gillan chose to go be with family.

He made trips to the liquor store and the supermarket — packing his truck with several bottles of bourbon for his father, “120 eggs and 16 racks of bacon” — and then he and his German shepherd named Bear traveled seven hours to southern Maryland to stay with his parents and 19-year-old sister.

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The rural area around his parents’ house affords him space to practice his booming kicks, and there’s a “massive” field, owned by a friend, which Gillan uses, too. But the self-described “workout junkie” had to get creative with strength training. Soon his parents’ garage became his gym.

Unable to buy equipment online because of limited inventory and “skyrocketing” prices, Gillan purchased old equipment from a local high school: barbells, bumper plates, 40-, 80- and 100-pound dumbbells and bands. He purchased rubber matting from a local tractor store.

He searched Facebook Marketplace for a squat rack, but he and his father, Colin, who is a former rugby player and member of the United Kingdom’s Royal Air Force, came up with a better solution — they would construct their own.

“We came back [from Lowe’s], cracked open some beers and just started building it,” Gillan said with a chuckle. Even with old, rusty weights, his “grubby little gym” was everything he needed.

Gillan said his resourcefulness was forged during four years playing at Arkansas-Pine Bluff, a historically black university. During offseasons when he and his teammates didn’t have access to the gym, their surroundings became their workout room. They bench-pressed and squatted logs, they did dips and pullups on metal bars at local parks, and Gillan hopped fences to punt on neighboring fields when access to their football field was prohibited.

“One thing I notice about a lot of historically black colleges is they’re very underfunded,” Gillan said, stressing that he and other student-athletes had to be creative. “Maybe it got me prepared for this weird period.”

Taking it up a few notches, Giants linebacker Blake Martinez often escapes to a sports facility his father helped conceptualize and build. Courtesy of Blake MartinezState-of-the-art amenities ease the transition

Blake Martinez‘s father, Marc, had a master plan: purchase a plot of land 15 minutes from the family home in Tucson, Arizona, and build a facility for his son to train and live. It didn’t take long for the idea to become Martinez’s reality.

The linebacker thanks his father every day for his ingenuity, as well as his construction company.

The 18,000-square-foot facility — conceptualized and built last year — “has everything a football player would need,” said Martinez, a 2016 fourth-round draft pick by the Green Bay Packers who signed a three-year, $30 million free-agent contract with the Giants in March.

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The warehouse-looking steel structure contains “a miniature version of a college weight room,” a full-length basketball court, a 30-by-15-yard turf field and an outdoor sand volleyball court. It also doubles as a residence, with three bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen on the second level for him, his wife, Kristy, and their young daughter.

“It kept getting better and better as it kept getting built,” Martinez said. He works out for two hours in person with his longtime trainer, Glenn Howell, four times a week.

But familiarity with his new franchise is a luxury Martinez, 26, doesn’t have.

With New York and New Jersey being one of the epicenters of the coronavirus outbreak in the United States, Martinez doesn’t know when he’ll be able to travel to the facility or even meet members of the Giants organization for the first time.

“It’s not like I’ve been on the team for a while and I know the guys already. So, it’s been tough in that aspect, connecting with guys,” he said.

Martinez said the pandemic has taught him “I literally have zero excuses not to show up the first day and make sure I’m 100 percent ready to go and help push all of the younger guys to that level if they haven’t gotten there yet.”

Making use of California canyons

Golden Tate‘s stunning San Diego views come at a price.

“I’ve just got to watch out for rattlesnakes,” the Giants wide receiver said with a laugh.

When stay-at-home orders were issued in California in mid-March, Tate took advantage of his surroundings — namely, the canyon his house is built on.

“It’s not the best condition to be running in,” admitted the 11-year NFL player, who mowed a 7-by-40-yard patch of grass on a steep incline. “But it’ll suffice right now. It’s better than doing nothing.”

Team work makes the dream work! Uncle @tatethagreat & LoLo helping me get my daily catches in. Hope everyone has a great Friday! 🙌🏽 🏈 #FamilyFriday pic.twitter.com/RtZXRHcygS

— Golden Tate (@ShowtimeTate) May 15, 2020

Tate, a married father of two small kids, purchased PowerBlock dumbbells and a Jugs machine from which he catches about 100 balls a day. He bikes at home on his Peloton and uses mountain bike trails for his aerobic conditioning. But finding a flat surface for route running has been a challenge. So, too, is self-discipline.

“Over my career, I’m so used to having someone — an instructor or the guys around me — push me. And right now, I’m forced to push myself,” said Tate, who turns 32 on Aug. 2.

The veteran receiver played through the 2011 NFL lockout, but he said the coronavirus pandemic is unlike anything he has experienced.

“I feel bad for the first-, second-, third- and fourth-round guys who are expected to come in and help the team right away, but they’re not having the same opportunity to grow as a player, not getting those reps on the field,” he said.

“The offseason is when you have the time to really focus on the fundamentals of the game, the bigger picture and the details of the game. And it looks like right now we’re going to show up for camp — if we show up for camp — in the middle of the fire of trying to figure out who’s going to make the team and trying to get ready for a season. That can be overwhelming.”

Strengths trainers turned investigators

With their players scattered across the country, NFL strength and conditioning coaches feel more like part-time sleuths and office managers than in-person trainers.

“We kind of went more into equipment sales and trying to be a liaison to help guys get set up and make sure they’re doing the right thing,” said Justus Galac, now in his seventh year as the New York Jets’ head strength and conditioning coach. “What we found was, guys in the Southern states and more into the Midwest had more access than our guys in the Northeast and West Coast.”

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Danny Amendola impresses with some nifty, one-handed catches while working out with a helmet on in his backyard.

Strength trainers have been tasked with identifying what their players need from a performance standpoint to achieve their fitness goals, regardless of where they live and what resources they have access to. “Even though they might have access to a Steak ‘n Shake parking lot or they might be in a third floor of an apartment,” said Justin Lovett, the Los Angeles Rams’ new head strength and conditioning coach.

Lovett was hired in the midst of California’s coronavirus shutdown, but unlike during the 2011 lockout year, when he was on the Denver Broncos’ staff, communication is permitted and has proved paramount. But there have been challenges.

“The biggest problem with the rookie class is they don’t have the money that some of the older guys do,” Galac said. “Not saying millions of dollars, but able to go buy equipment, pay for a trainer to take care of them, buying more food that you may normally not have to buy because the facility provides it. All those little things are adding up for these guys. And the rookies, they have no idea. And it’s not their fault.”

This time of year is crucial for strength staffs, not only for getting players in shape but also for getting new players up to speed with their programs. “And we’ve lost that,” Galac said.

In fact, the Jets’ weight room underwent a face-lift this offseason, complete with a new floor, turf accents and equipment. “And nobody’s using it,” Galac said. “It’s sitting empty. The players haven’t even seen it yet.”

Plenty of land and space around James Washington’s home in Abilene, Texas, allows the Steelers receiver the space to work out and social distance at the same time. Courtesy of James WashingtonFinding space and serenity in the countryside

James Washington misses football. And, occasionally, his farm.

The 26-acre property the Steelers wide receiver purchased near his hometown of Abilene, Texas, made it easy for him to comply with social distancing rules. It also afforded him space to work out and keep in shape by way of chores. Washington, who was an agribusiness major with a concentration in farm and ranch management at Oklahoma State, finds the countryside calming. He enjoys the views of passing cars, wheat fields and cattle pastures during his eight- to 12-mile rides on his recently purchased bicycle.

His workout setup, which included an assortment of resistance bands sent by the Steelers and his high school dumbbells retrieved from his parents’ house, was complete with the arrival of a Jugs machine, which he kept in the barn and carried to a flat area in one of the pastures.

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However, staving off boredom is a challenge whenever he’s in Pittsburgh, a more crowded city with fewer options for keeping busy.

“When I was in Texas, I’d work out, do my virtual [team] meetings and then I’d have to find something to do cause I can’t just sit in the house,” Washington said last week, after he, JuJu Smith-Schuster and fellow receiver Ryan Switzer worked out in quarterback Ben Roethlisberger’s home weight room. “Being on the farm really helped me a lot, because there was always something that could have been done.”

Washington loves his farm so much his recent stay in Pittsburgh was short-lived. He returned to Texas on Wednesday to celebrate Memorial Day weekend with family and tend to his most recent purchase: cattle. The time away from the Steelers’ facility has also given Washington time to think.

“It just doesn’t feel right,” he said. “Everybody feels like we should be at the facility, doing physical stuff, getting ready to go. … Even if there’s no fans, we still have to go out there and just go 110 percent, even if it would feel weird. Fans help make the game. It’s really crazy to think about.

“Just being away from things, you really find out how much you miss the sport. It sucks. That’s really what I figured out. That I love football.”

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[the-zodiacs-written-in-the-stars]

Chapter 1: Matteo di Girasole

Matt smiled thinly as he straightened his tie. He was exhausted after this long day, but he has had this meeting on his radar for two weeks now so skipping was not an option, regardless of how much he wanted to go home and curl up on the couch with his fiance, whining about his long day while Mike would give one of his magical foot-rubs. Maybe Ace would even be willing to lower himself to some cuddles - though knowing their arrogant kitty-cat, he’d lift his tail and walk away from Matt as he did every day. They really needed to get a more cuddly and nice kitten.

“Mister di Girasole, I’m so glad you could make it.”

Matt did his best to fill out his smile to that ‘a hundred watt smile of yours, sunshine’, as his fiance liked to call it. Sonia Gold looked stunning as always. Honestly, the woman was a little scary in just how perfect she appeared all the time. Not a hair out of place on her honey-blonde hair, jade-green eyes sparkling as she smiled at him politely, the white suit not having a single unwanted wrinkle.

“Miss Gold. It’s a pleasure to finally meet in person”, replied Matt and reached out for her.

She raised one eyebrow as she smiled at him. This woman was top-notch, a businesswoman nearly unmatched. Matt had a lot of respect for her, he had done plenty of research before setting up this meeting.

“I have to admit, this is... not the kind of location I expected to be taken for a business dinner with the CEO of Chiron Training”, drawled Sonia.

She looked wearily at the establishment they had met at. Matt smiled pleasantly as he pushed the door open and motioned ofr her to go ahead. He instantly felt a bit more relaxed in this familiar environment. The “home away from home”, as Mike liked to call it because the couple spent so much time here.

“I find the... high-class establishments to be too stuffy. And too many noisy people with ears of interest trying to listen into the deals made there”, replied Matt casually. “Not to mention, this place has the best burgers I’ve ever eaten.”

Sonia chuckled amused and followed, clearly intrigued by this odd approach. The bartender looked up from where she was wiping down the bar, broad grin on her freckled face as she recognized Matt.

“Left the better half at home today, eh?”, called the young woman out.

“Jessica”, greeted Matt with a short nod. “Table for two?”

“Take yer pick”, replied Jessica, wildly gesturing around the nearly empty pub.

“The Saint John’s is the preferred place to eat for me and my fiance”, elaborated Matt as he went to his regular table.

It was still pretty early so the Irish pub was practically empty aside from Jessica behind the bar and two of the elderly regulars who enjoyed a good lamb stew for dinner. Matt nodded at them in greeting as he pulled a chair back for Sonia.

“I was pleasantly surprised to hear from you, Mister di Girasole”, stated Sonia as Matt sat down opposite her. “There’s been rumors about you looking for a new ad campaign.”

Matt hummed in confirmation as they opened their menus. He was the CEO and founder of one of the biggest sports-equipment companies world wide - Chiron Training. They were currently ironing out a new image of sorts. A new ad campaign, a new face to the name. For that, he was seeking out a new partner to work on said campaign. He had his PA go through all possible advertisement companies.

And Tanya was very thorough with everything she did. She had also found out from Sonia’s assistant that Sonia Gold tended to order burgers for lunch when frustrated. Which meant that burgers were her comfort food. So taking her here, that was strategical. Also, Matt really loved the burgers here - and the view.

“What can I get for you?”, asked Jessica curiously.

“The same as always”, replied Matt with a small smile.

Sonia hummed as she went through the menu. “Oh. Mh. I’ll go with a double-cheese bacon burger. And I suppose... an ice tea.”

Jessica saluted them and turned around to pass the order on to the kitchen.

“I want a... broader campaign”, started Matt. “We’ve been mainly defined by America’s favorite passtime and all things ball-game.”

“Something that speaks to more than just the teenage boys and dads of those?”, chuckled Sonia amused.

Matt confirmed with a gentle hum. “I’ve seen the wonders you did with other firms.”

The two of them talked shop for a couple minutes until the owner and cook of the pub personally brought their meals. The pub wasn't very hands-on with the staff, it was run by the Saint John siblings and though they had some hands to help them behind the bar and in the kitchen, it was mainly just them. They had one waitress, but mainly it was a system of ordering at the bar and self-pickup. Occasionally, James Saint John - or Jamie, as he preferred to be called (and by ‘preferred', Matt really meant that Jamie's sister had enforced the nickname and made sure everybody used it until Jamie accepted his fate) - would bring them their food personally, if there wasn't a lot going on. Matt liked to read a little more into it though. He turned to offer Jamie a charming smile.

Oh, how was that guy allowed to be this pretty? His gentle, reddish-brown curls framed his face at chin-length, freckles adored his pale skin and then there were his dark, gentle green eyes. Jamie returned Matt’s smile, his pale cheeks darkening just a little. It was cute how easy the other man could be flustered considering he was about a head taller than Matt and athletic.

“Thank you, Jamie”, said Matt, voice soft.

“What can I say? You rich folks bring me and my sister good money. Have to keep you entertained”, grinned Jamie teasingly. “Enjoy your food.”

Matt’s eyes lingered on Jamie’s retreating form. It wasn’t his fault that Jamie’s retreating form included that heart-shaped butt in the tight leather-pants. Sonia opposite him cleared her throat. Her jade eyes were sharp and calculating.

“If you brought me to your boy toy’s bar to make him feel like ‘you really want to include him and you’re so going to leave your fiance for him, you swear’, then I will take this burger and any negotiations off the table and leave”, warned Sonia.

Matt blinked slowly, stunned. Was he truly that transparent? He had always prided himself on his schooled features and his good poker-face. Sure, Mike could read him - but the two of them had been dating for years now - and Mike’s sister, because she was ‘exposed to the both of them far too often’. But this woman, who had known him for half an hour now...?

Well, her sharp perception was one of the reasons he had picked her. She was wonderful at analyzing every situation and accessing it. It was what made her so good at her job.

And that sharp and short threat was the final reason why he had picked her.

Tanya, the brilliant genius of a Private Assistant that she was, had gathered all the intel needed and then some more. Sonia Gold had a strong sense of moral and she always followed her moral compass, even if it cost her money. She had once slapped a million dollar deal into her business partner’s face after the jerk had made crude comments about Sonia’s PA for ‘not making up her-his-its damn mind’ (from Tanya, he knew that Sonia’s PA was genderfluid).

Sonia Gold held her business to the Gold Standard and she herself lived it too.

That was the kind of person and firm Matt wanted to work with. He offered her a bemused smile over the rim of his glass. A good thing that he knew she was also trustworthy, wouldn’t share gossip and secrets for her own gain, due to her moral compass.

“Not an affair, I assure you, Miss Gold”, drawled Matt lowly. “More a... shared interest of my fiance’s and mine.”

Sonia raised one elegant eyebrow, looking at him intensely as though she was trying to detect a lie. When she deemed it the truth, she lifted her burger up to take a bite.

“Oh, you weren’t lying about that either”, hummed Sonia pleased. “This might just be the best burger I’ve ever eaten.”

“It’s the home-made barbeque sauce”, stated Matt seriously and with a light grin. “Now, do you think we can continue with business?”

“I suppose”, mused Sonia. “Though I’d love to meet your fiance some time. Perhaps we can set something up to celebrate the deal we’re going to negotiate now. A double-date.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’m sure Michael would love it”, replied Matt with a charming smile.

By the time the rough outlines for the deal stood and Matt finally returned home, it was long dark and his prediction about Ace proved to be true. The unfaithful cat didn’t even look at him with his ass. Matt huffed offended as the cat continued sleeping while he made his way past the couch.

“Caro, sono a casa”, called Matt out softly before sighing. “...If you’re still awake.” [Italian trans: Honey, I’m home]

“Mh... Whazzat?”, slurred a tired, sleep-rough voice.

A messy mop of black hair emerged from the couch. Matt smiled softly. He should have known. Even with an early shift tomorrow, Mike would still wait for him. Running his fingers through his hair, he loosened the bun in the base of his neck and let his collarbone-long hair fall free while stalking up to his fiance. Mike still looked drowsy, the unshaved scruff giving him that rough edge that Matt loved so much. Straddling Mike’s waist, Matt leaned down to kiss the sleepy man.

“Buona sera, mi amore”, whispered Matt gently. [Italian trans; Good evening, my love]

“Right back at cha”, yawned Mike with a pleased grin.

He wrapped his strong arms around Matt’s waist, pulling him down. Sighing contently, Matt snuggled up to his fiance’s chest, finally able to relax for the day. Mike started gently running his fingers through Matt’s hair in that way that made Matt go lax.

“How was the meeting, sunshine?”, asked Mike. “Twas an important one, right? With that silver lady?”

“Gold lady”, correted Matt with soft amusement. “And I think it went pretty well. She wants to meet you. Double date with her and her boyfriend Sander.”

“Mh...”, grunted Mike, kissing the top of Matt’s head. “See. Knew you’d rock this, babe.”

Matt snorted in fond amusement and tucked his head under Mike’s chin. “How was your day? Locked a lot of bad guys up? Got a headache from Rick again?”

The groan escaping Mike’s lips told Matt that yes, Rick had given him a hard time. Not that it was actually serious. Mike and Rick had been partners since the day they graduated the police academy and they were so inseparable that Matt was about 95% sure that they were obligated to name their firstborn child after Rick at this point.

“We ran so late that I couldn’t get lunch because of a stupid case”, muttered Mike, sounding like he was pouting.

“Mh. You missed out on the dark-red leather-pants”, whispered Matt teasingly.

Mike groaned again, pinching Matt’s ass. “Don’t tease. Brat.”

Matt yelped and laughed. Mike and Rick spending their lunch at the Saint John’s Pub was how they had even learned about the establishment and how they had met Jamie. Though it had taken Mike months before he had dared to take Matt there the first time and then some more weeks before he had admitted  to having a giant crush on Jamie. At that point, Matt was already gone himself.

“What are my chances that you’ll carry me to bed, amore?”, asked Matt hopefully.

“...We’re gonna sleep on the couch tonight. It’s why we bought a super expensive, giant-ass couch”, grunted Mike seriously.

Matt sighed and grabbed the blanket from the backrest of the couch and pulled it over himself and his fiance. Both of them were too tired to get up or to get changed. And Mike was right, this was why they had bought the expensive couch.

“Buona notte e sogni d’oro”, whispered Matt, kissing Mike’s collarbone. [Italian trans: Good night and sweet dreams]

“Mhmh, night, sunshine”, replied Mike, kissing the top of Matt’s head.

Read here on AO3!

Masterpost || -> Next Chapter

[tumblunni]

Miscellaneous rambling Game Thoughts that I am Thinking about Game Today’s Think: Spice up the calendar stat raising gameplay a bit with ~festivals!~

LONG RAMBLE INCOMING

* Festivals that aren’t just markings on the calendar like in persona, but minigames like animal crossing and harvest moon! Also Oreshika but I only know one other person who plays that, lol. I really grew to like their tournements tho, even if its just a boring samey rpg battle repeated every damn year for centuries. It became oddly more useful in the postgame because everyone’s levels are so high and the amount of Devotion (job class selection points, basically) doesn’t increase as the enemies get buffed. So the twice yearly contests are the only reliable way to get a huge amount of devotion all at once, which is great if you’re grinding out new characters en masse and trying to get a rare inheritance trait! (srsly tho i have got TOTALLY sick of the ‘everyone lives and dies and then you play as their descendants’ thing by now, it just makes me feel extra guilty for grinding. I had to kill like 300 dads!) ...MAN I’M GOING OFFTOPIC LOL Anyway what I mean is that there’s a way bigger incentive to look forward to festivals/contests if the reward from them is something super useful that you can’t get anywhere else! Princess Maker 2 had a similar sort of thing, because money was really hard to make and the prize from a single tournement could fund like four months of combat classes! So whatever these rewards are gonna be, they should be like that and be a big boost that can help power-level your charries. Maybe even a x2 multiplier on experience for a particular stat, until january next year? or maybe this is how training gyms level up, instead of having exp? your fame rises in the tourney and you’re able to buy better equipment! Oh, and maybe the non-combat festivals could give a reward of a big relationship boost with certain characters? Gotta impress all the potential dates with your pie-baking skills! (pie may also contain dates)

* Also there totally needs to be a beauty pageant or fashion show or something. I know in real life there’s barely any of those for men, but this is a fantasy world so we can just say this town’s mayor is Damn Cool! And also it goes without saying that we’re gonna indulge the fantasy of having an unbiased set of judges that aren’t racist or homophobic or pedophiliac or anorexia obsessed or.. well, real life has a LOT of problems that games don’t have to emulate, lol. So yeah! This lil town in jrpgland has a big ol fancy fashion contest and it’s a fun event for everyone! Enjoy making mr grizzled warrior protagonist look cute as hell! * Basically this but What If It Wasn’t A Joke Seriously I hate seeing stuff like that on memes about being progressive, when it was clear within the context of the show that kids were meant to laugh at that male character wearing dresses. Man I was SO damn happy when Steven Universe subverted that trope and had an end of episode twist be Steven crossdressing and loving it and everyone is like ‘wow classic steven’ and cheering for him. Also they didn’t force the socially anxious girl to sing on stage! Generally a great episode for breaking tropes! So yeah more like Basically This But Basically This Man I forgot how much that ending makes me grin, holy shit! It probably doesn’t have the same factor out of context, but just it makes me so happy to have a flash forward and we see Sadie still singing the song, just offstage. So we get to know that even if this whole experience was ruined for her, she hasn’t given up on her dreams, and she’s way more confident with singing in front of other people even if she isn’t ready for singing with strangers. I love her and Steven’s friendship so much, seriously! its such a good big sister sort of thing, and this episode was great for showing steven stepping up to protect her but like.. not in any sort of cliche macho way. By winning back the crowd with a fab dress! * So yeah anyway Where Was I Before I Got Offtopic Lol It won’t be a crossdressing-only pageant or anything, but it’ll be a unisex fashion show and I’m not gonna include any form of homophobic nonsense from real world fashion industry. And I wanna give loads of options so the player can pick whatever they prefer, and I’m writing this character as the sort of dude who would love all of them! Dark antihero trenchcoats are cool but what about also PASTEL LOLITA TOP HATS * Maybe could have gameplay similar to the gen 4 version of Pokemon Contests? With the multiple judges! In those games the judges were all identical and it was just ‘don’t pick the same judge twice’, here it could be more like the three judges have different tastes and you have to coordinate your style and performance to get as many points as you can. Do you gamble it all on super-impressing one judge, or make an unconventional combo outfit that can bank medium level points with everyone? And like maybe the cooking contest could have the same sort of gameplay, cos that’s another festival where you could say the judges could have different tastes. Also maybe friend characters have a random chance of appearing as a judge! You wouldn’t get any bonus points tho, cos they’d get kicked off if they cheated on your behalf. But maybe you can get a relationship points boost if you appeal to them? So it could be like a temptation to risk losing the contest but unlock a new romance scene with your sweetheart. THE POWER OF PIE!

* Other various festivals I have really liked in various cute town time games: * Stardew Valley’s easter egg hunt! * Rune Factory’s weird snowball fight but with turnips instead! * Parents giving you money on new years was also a thing in rune factory, and I’m pretty sure that’s based on a real thing in some country? Was it china? Your culture rules, dudes! * Also its in a lot of games cos its celebrated in japan, but I wish we celebrated it here too! The two day valentines! Seriously I way prefer the idea of having one day where one half of the couple gives a gift and then a later day where the other person gives one back in return. And its less commercialized, they even still make homemade chocolates in that country! Damn i’d love to try doing that someday! (not necessarily for a valentines thing, just in general it seems fun) Maybe could have a fun fantasy variant where people give something different instead of chocolates? or if the conditions for the two different days were different? like instead of the girl valentine and the boy valentine its.. I dunno... a day celebrating some famous social class busting couple so its meant to be for rich people hitting on commoners and vice versa? A bit of a halloween aspect where you’re allowed to do stuff that’s normally frowned upon, free of judgment. (It was like that in puritan times when people were all ‘burn the witch!’ and all) Also I like that japanese valentines has ‘honmei and giri’- chocolates for actual crushes, but you can also give them to friends and family! More holidays need to be an excuse for friend gifts! (also those are really catchy names for such a thing)

* Speaking of which, maybe I could throw in some festivals from my home country? Mostly britain has similar holidays to america with a few missing, but there’s a few ones unique to the different regions which are pretty fun. I don’t know a lot about all of them but here’s some of the ones we have in my are, Wales! * Guy Fawkes’s Day. Official day for hella fireworks! Tho people also do them at christmas and halloween, and this holiday is right in the middle so DEAR GOD I’ve been dealing with my noisy neighbours constantly exploding stuff for three months. Give it a break, guys! The story behind this holiday is actually kinda interesting though, we set off fireworks to celebrate some villainous guy who tried to bomb a castle once and everyone tied him to a tree and set him on fire. There’s even a kids’s song about this weird morbid old thing! “remember remember the fifth of november, the gunpowder treason and plot, i see no reason the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot” Also its my american friend’s birthday, which is funny cos apparantly my birthday is an american holiday too! O+O * Eisteddfod, which is like.. literally a stat testing festival in real life?? Like yknow how you have sports festivals in school, well this is that but for like.. brain. Brain sprints. In mythology the Welsh were basically the Bard class of britain, we have loads of folk heros who are like.. literally able to poetry and then your brain explodes. So poems, songs, and novels are valued a lot here, and this is the biggest day of the school schedule because of it! Everyone gets to dress in ye olden style fancy dress costumes and enter best poem/short story/painting/whatever contests, and it is SURPRISINGLY AWESOME!!! like.. everything is done with MAXIMUM HAM. M A X I M U MMMM There is no amount of hyperbole when I say that the school carves their own wooden throne and there’s a public crowning ceremony for the kids who win. This is a literal actual thing that happens once annually in every school forever. Its called the Chairing Of The Bard! And I won it once when I was 11 or so and it was both the best and worst thing ever, like holy shit i was SO terrified having to stand up in front of 300 people and put on an even more silly costume on silly costumes day... Oh and another strange thing that is actually real! School houses! like in harry potter! Its generally for younger kids tho, its like 100% of all primary schools (grade schools) and then like 1/3rd of high schools? Also the names of the houses are up to the school to decide, but for some reason they almost always seem to be red, yellow, blue and green. In my primary school they were just named for cities in wales, and I always found it really annoying that I didn’t get in Caerdydd house when the school was literally IN Caerdydd! * Also unrelated but I looked up my old high school on google and I’m surprised that so many of the same teachers are still working there seven years later! I’m so happy that some of them got promoted!

* And other miscellaneous festival ideas!!!

* You know what i fuckin love? That nonsense fantasy trope of having to fight thru a giant dungeon and get like the rare crystal feather of the fuckface bird or else you can’t marry the king’s daughter. Its even more weird and weirdly endearing when its just like.. AN EVERYONE. Eveyr marriage. Everywhere. How the fuck do these people actually survive if they have to do this five times a year?? So yeah, I think that’d be a really cool wedding festival to have as like.. a sign of this town being badass, lol But also make it less of a law, cos its not as fun if people are being forced to die on mount terror, yknow? its just a tradition that developed cos of some great adventurer in ye olden times, and goofy bastards dare each other to attempt it as the equivelant of a batchelor’s party. You don’t have to, plenty of people just make faux feather ornaments to propose to their loved one. But it’s considered a powerful good luck blessing to pull off the legendary adventure! Like only one couple every decade manages to do it, and you get a big town festival to make your special day even better! And people won’t be mad if you fail, it’s still a fun bit of entertainment for the townsfolk and a good excuse for Secondary Tradition: We All Get Drunk Instead So yeah, gameplay wise this would mean you have an option to do this festival or not. But it’s gonna be the hardest minigame of all, so don’t come unprepared! Alternatively you can either buy or make your own proposal ornament, and do things the less adventurey way. * Probably different batchelor/ettes would like different things? like Blair is an adventurer herself so of course she’ll go nuts for the traditional feather hunt. And she’d really hate the expensive ornament, cos she’s a down to earth gal who works hard to scrape together enough income in the inn to look after her lil sister. She’d get pissed off at you wasting so much on her, like wtf if you’d bought me a nice sturdy set of furniture that’d be way more useful! (Tho she’s a bit of an outlier and generally most people will at least be flattered by the fancy stuff, even if its not their favourite.) * Oh, and maybe you could actually do the feather festival together?? I actually didn’t think of that, I was just going 100% with the cliche of dude having to do some crazy quest to marry a girl. But it would be a way better test of your luck as a couple if you did it as a couple! That could be SO cool, just the two of you climbing a badass mountain and beating up monsters all lovey dovey~! And it could make the minigame entirely unique on each route, cos each character would have different roles in battle. Most of them aren’t adventurers by trade like Blair, so you could be fighting alongside a mage or a support character. Maybe one of them is actually a weakass that you need to protect? Tho I mean it would be bad to categorize one character as the least enjoyable version of the minigame. So maybe its like one character becomes that in one particular situation, and that’s the sign that you’re getting their Normal Ending instead of the Golden Ending? Someone who has some sort of doubts or a secret they’re keeping, which limits their ability here. Possibly Mortimer? Cos in his case it would be exceptionally hard not to reveal his secret in battle! And I dunno, maybe he tells the protagonist the secret before they get married, and the writing is just framed so that the player never knows but the protagonist does. Now go do his golden ending if you wanna learn more! * I like morty a lot. He’s ended up the most developed even though he’s the most recent character I added, lol!

[yeskraim]

30 kitchen tools and gadgets on sale for Presidents Day weekend

With your busy lifestyle, we’re sure it can be pretty challenging to cook a decent meal for yourself on the regular.

But maybe the sole reason why it’s hard to prep meals is that you lack the tools and devices to make good food in the first place. And it’s time to change that.

In honor of Presidents Day, below are 30 different kitchen tools and gadgets on sale, each designed to upgrade your kitchen (and your life). Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to enjoy an extra 15% off coupon.

Kitchen tools and utensils

Sukasu Osami 3-Piece Chef’s Knife Set

Everyone knows that a quality knife makes a difference. This knife set nets you three stainless steel blades that can help you prep a variety of meals, allowing you to chop, slice, and dice any ingredient. Featuring a stunning, wavy pattern, these tools also double as kitchen decor. Usually $99.99, the set is now on sale for $39.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $33.99.

Inspired Home 5-Piece Enameled Cast Iron Cookware and Bakeware Set

Upgrade your ratty pots and pans with this cookware and bakeware set that’s comprised of stunning pieces that blend beauty and function. Each piece has a white exterior and matching interior, adding a charming touch to your kitchen. They also heat evenly and seal in moisture, helping you cook better tasting meals. Pick up the set on sale for $99.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $84.99.

Pro Chef’s Knives with Henkel Rosewood and Special Burl

Ready for intermediate cooking? This knife set boasts blades that are hand-forged, heat-treated, ground, and polished, resulting in superior and refined tools that will prove to be useful in the kitchen. It features five different chef knives of varying lengths, all of which have the same hardness of 58 to 60 HRC and 176-layer Damascus steel blades. The set usually goes for $134.40, but you can grab it on sale for $99.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $84.99.

Concentrix 10.5-inch Round Dinner Plates

It’s high time that you replace your mismatched plates with this set of six heavy-duty ceramic ones, all of which feature a sleek and funky design. Each piece has been thermal shock tested to ensure durability, and is designed to be microwave, dishwasher, freezer, and oven safe. Get the set for $62.99 or use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $53.54.

58HRC Damascus Steel Chef and Fork Knife Set

Make meal prep a whole lot easier with this knife set that features a premium chef knife and fork knife. Each one is 100% handmade and has been hand-forged, heat-treated, ground, and polished. With a hardness of 58 HRC and Damascus finish, these babies are made to last. Grab the set for only $69.99 or use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $59.49.

Select by Calphalon™ Space-Saving Nonstick 7-Piece Starter Cookware Set

Say goodbye to overflowing drawers of pots and pans with this set that securely stacks and nests in order, allowing for easier storing. Each piece in the collection features medium-gauge construction for longevity, as well as a dual-layered nonstick interior for hassle-free food removal and cleaning. They’re also all oven-safe up to 400°F. For a limited time, you can grab the set for $145. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $123.25.

Damascus 3-Piece Japanese Chef Knife Set 

Featuring three premium blades, this knife set lets you put together delicious meals with laser precision. Each one is stain and rust-resistant for enhanced durability, and features surface patterns to add a nice touch to your kitchen aesthetic. Right now, the set can be yours for only $44.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $38.24.

Matte Black Titanium Flatware Set

Modernize and add some edge to your utensil collection with this flatware set that features a bold black matte finish. In addition to its sleek industrial look, it also boasts the original KNORK design for ultimate function. Typically $165.99, the set is now on sale for $89.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $76.49.

Cooking appliances

Chefman Multi-Function Oval Pressure Cooker

Rated 4.1 stars on Amazon, this pressure cooker has 18 built-in presets to make cooking a breeze. You can use it to pressure cook, slow cook, steam, sauté, and basically do anything to your food. With an 8-quart capacity, it can also let you prep big batches of meals to serve your friends and family. For a limited time, it’s on sale for $134.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $114.74.

Gourmia® GDT2445 Multi-Function Digital Toaster

Never settle for stale bread ever again. This digital toaster comes equipped with five toast functions, warming bread, bagels, waffles, toaster pastries, and English muffins to perfection. With seven shade settings also available, you can prepare your toast however you want it done, from golden to brown to crispy. Right now, you can pick it up for $49.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $42.49.

Gotham™ Steel Pancake Bonanza

Want lighter and fluffier pancakes? This pan lets you cook pancakes to perfection every single time with its design that distributes heat evenly. You can also use it to make omelets, grilled cheese, chocolate chip cookies, and a whole lot more. Usually $24.99, it’s currently on sale for $15.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $13.59.

A4-Box Induction Cooking Device

Whether you want to grill, sauté, or bake, this cooking device can do the job. It includes a non-stick grill pan and flat pan to accommodate the cooking style you want and features four temperature settings to make prepping almost anything a breeze. Score it on sale for $219 and use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $186.15.

Paula Deen 9.5QT Family-Sized Air Fryer

Backed by Paula Deen, this air fryer lets you cook healthier meals in large batches in case you’re feeding the masses. It features a single basket design and rapid air circulation system, allowing you to air fry, bake, or roast food faster than usual, using less oil along the way. It even comes with a recipe book to help you get more creative with meals. Right now, you can snag it for $99.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $84.99. 

StirMATE® Smart Pot Stirrer

You can finally stir and mix your food without feeling like your arm is about to fall off. This high torque automatic pot-stirrer rotates, swings, and adjusts itself to accommodate all pots of varying diameters and depths. It has two paddles, one for stirring, and the other for preventing food from sticking and burning. Together, they ensure that your food develops more flavor and creaminess. Usually $59.99, it’s now on sale for $49.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $42.49.

VitaChef Electric Steamer Skillet Cooking System

This all-in-one cooking system offers more than ten ways to cook, allowing you to steam, sauté, slow cook, bake, and more using only one nifty device. It features all-aluminum components for even heating, as well as green energy and water-saving design. Score it for only $99.99 and use the code PRESIDENT15 to bring the price down to $84.99. 

Baking gadgets

Betty Crocker Brownie Maker and Snack Factory

Baking loaf cakes, bars, blondies, and brownies will now be a piece of cake (no pun intended) with this handy baker. Just pour your batter in, and it will prepare delicious homemade goodies in just minutes. Normally retailing for $49.99, it’s on sale for $34.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $29.74.

Gemelli Twin Oven

Featured on The Talk, this countertop convection oven has a bonus rotisserie feature for healthier cooking and a separate lower oven with a built-in pizza drawer for faster meal prep. User-friendly and versatile, it can be used for cooking, baking, broiling, warming, and roasting food fast. It can be yours for only $237.99 with code PRESIDENT15.

Dockside Bakeware 5-Piece Ceramic Stoneware Baking Set

Now, if you’re a fan of coastal style, you’ll want to snag this baking set that features seafood-inspired designs. Each piece has a nonstick enameled interior and temperature resistant coating, allowing you to stick them in the oven, microwave, and freezer. And thanks to the set’s oven-to-table technology, you can get rid of the hassle of transferring hot food. Add the set to your collection for only $99.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $84.99. 

Meal prep devices

1-Touch Mandoline™ Slicer with Safe Handguard

Prepare garnishes, coleslaw, and fries with absolute ease with this tool that makes slicing quick and safe. It has a built-in adjuster that can create thin, medium, and thick slices, along with a protector and safety lock to prevent hazards. Right now, it’s on sale for $29.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $25.49.

Mellow Sous Vide Precision Cooker

This genius machine completely streamlines sous vide cooking, cutting down the process to a 30-second setup. During the day when you’re at work or school, it slow cooks your food to perfection, so you can have dinner ready the moment you arrive home. It also connects to your phone, allowing you to keep tabs on your food at all times. Score it on sale for $199.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $169.99.

Wolfgang Puck 3-in-1 Electric Power Spiralizer

Pasta-making is more fun with this Wolfgang Puck-approved spiralizer that turns veggies into exciting shapes. You can use it to replace pasta with zucchini noodles or create ribbons of colorful vegetables to top your salads. With three different blades built-in, it can accommodate all sorts of fruits and veggies. It usually goes for $54.99, but you can get it on sale now for $19.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $16.99.

Kitchen maintenance

Gotek Smart Fridge Deodorizer

With a diverse selection of food, beverages, and condiments inside, your fridge likely does not always smell fresh. This deodorizer works to ensure it does by maintaining a healthy environment for food storage and preservation. Capable of getting rid of 96.2% of bacteria, it works better than old-fashioned charcoal deodorizers. Regularly retailing for $99, it’s now on sale for $69.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $59.49.

Gourmia® GVS455 Stainless Steel Vacuum Sealer

Preserve food better with this vacuum sealer that lets you easily store large quantities of food. It features an air-tight vacuum seal that removes air from storage bags with only a touch of a button. That way, you can maintain the quality and freshness of foods for far longer. While it’s priced at $99.99, you can use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $84.99. 

Coffee makers and kettles

Gourmia® GPK510 Gooseneck Electric Kettle

No more idling around the kitchen just to wait for the water in the kettle to boil. With preset temperatures, this electric kettle boils water almost instantly, allowing you to make your favorite drink in no time. Get it now for $49.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $42.49.

Gourmia® GCM6850 Digital Accelerated Cold Brew Coffee Maker

Making the almost impossible possible, this coffee maker can concoct a cold brew in just four short minutes. Not only that, but it also produces a smoother cup, with 67% less acidity compared to regular coffee. As a result, you get coffee that’s sweeter, healthier, more flavorful, and easier on the stomach and teeth. It can be yours for $59.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $50.99.

Gourmia® GCM3250 Dual Mode Pourfect Pour-Over Coffee Maker

This coffee maker makes pour-over brewing effortless with its easy-to-use interface. It tells you the precise amount of grinds and water to use, but you can also control the portions yourself with the manual mode. Either way, you get a full-bodied cup every single time. Take one home for only $59.99 and use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $50.99.

Gourmia® GCM3350 Pourista Fully Automatic Pour-Over Coffee Brewer

Outfitted with more bells and whistles than the previous coffee maker, this brewer also delivers satisfying cups of pour-over coffee. It features barista-quality controlled bloom and pour-over action, precise temperature control, and automatic coffee to water ratio to brew you a smooth blend every time. Regularly retailing for $149.99, it’s on sale for $129.99. Use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $110.49.

Alessi Pulcina 3-Cup Espresso Maker

Designed by renowned architect Michele de Lucchi, this coffee maker comes with a boiler that stops dispensing coffee before it gets a bitter aftertaste. That way, you’ll always get the full and rich aroma of your java. Plus, the built-in spout also ensures that no drop is wasted. It’s on sale for $49.99, but you can use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $42.49.

Food and beverage dispensers

Gourmia® GWA9985 Electric Wine Aerator and Dispenser

Just when you thought wine couldn’t taste better, this aerator and dispenser can further unlock your vino’s full aromatic profile to elevate your drinking experience. With a simple touch of a button, it can aerate the wine to bring out its vibrant flavor. It’s also capable of dispensing wine at 0.5 ounces per second. Snag it for your home bar for only $49.99 and be sure to use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $42.49.

The CrunchCup™ Portable Cereal Cup 

Who says you can only enjoy cereal at home? This cup makes it possible for you to take your favorite breakfast snack anywhere. Just pour in your choice of cereal in the inner cup and milk on the outer container, and voilá, you’re ready to crunch wherever you go. Score it on sale for $19.95 and use the code PRESIDENT15 at checkout to bring the price down to $16.96.

The post 30 kitchen tools and gadgets on sale for Presidents Day weekend appeared first on Gadgets To Make Life Easier.

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[storm-does-stuff]

Small Town Frights

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

It’s been so long since I’ve written something, then the urge hit like a freight train! haha.

“A murder-suicide?” asked Maude, looking at the case file that had been slipped into her hand. “Not to argue, sir, but isn't this a matter for a different department? Like, the local police?”

“Well, if you'd look past the cover page...” the man—Agent Macintosh—began. “You'd see that extremely high amounts of demonic energy was found at the scene.”

Maude blushed an flipped the page. “How much energy are we talkin' here?” the second page of the file was mainly pictures of the crime scene, with in-depth descriptions of where the bodies had been found, and what positions they were in. The next page was pictures of the home, and specifically the room the bodies were found in.

“Well, we don't exactly know.” said Macintosh, and Maude raised an eyebrow.

The third page of the file was of demagi-counters, basically Geiger counters for demonic energy, positioned in various places in the home where the crime seen was committed. Often times, it was very beneficial to see the location of the energy detector rather than just get the reading.

On the screen it didn't give a reading. It just said 'MAX'.

“It maxed out the demagi-counters?” Maude asked, squinting to make sure she was seeing this right.

“It did.”

“Those max out at, like, a million, right?”

“Ten million.” said Macintosh.

“This exceeds ten million?” Maude asked. A normal demon summing of a mid-level demon usually maxed out at three thousand. This was more than ten million. “And there were no signs of occult paraphernalia, no summoning circles, plain wax candles?”

“They didn't even have the demonology textbooks used in high schools.” said Macintosh. “And as for candles, they only had cinnamon-scented candles, and the wicks had never been burnt.”

Maude just hummed, skimming through the information for herself. “I assume I'll be wanted on-site for this?” she flipped back to the front of the packet. The house was located in New York state. A case this big would probably last a few weeks, man that would be fun in the most sarcastic way possible.

“You will.” Macintosh said. “All the pertinent information has been sent to your work account, your travel plans, and the team you'll be heading, as well as a copy of this file.” he smiled wryly. “Why the boss insists I still give out physical copies of case files, I'll never understand.”

Maude nodded and pulled her pager out of her pocket, sure enough she had four new messages.

“Oh, and spoiler alert, your flight leaves tomorrow, so I suggest you leave now to get packed.” Macintosh said, smiling.

“Understood, Sir.” she said, turning to take her leave. “Will you be coming as well?” she asked as an afterthought.

“No, I'm needed here.” he said, “Besides, demonology isn't really my field.”

“Of course.” Maude said, leaving and shutting the office door behind her. She left for the barracks, scanning her ID card on her way out, reading the message that dictated her team.

She would be in charge, of course, because of her high degree of knowledge and experience, though most of the members on her team were older than her. Though, she was thrilled to see that Kenna would be on the Nerd Squad for this mission.

This mission was taking her to a small town in northern New York state. They would be flying into the Newark airport, before driving three hours to get to their hotel, and all in all they would arrive at four in the afternoon that day. The actual investigation wouldn't begin until the next day.

Maude scanned the lock into her dorm, pulling the sliding door open and shouting, “I'm home!” even though she didn't expect anyone to be back for a while.

“Welcome back!” called another voice. “I'm in my room!”

“Kenna?” Maude said, stalking to her friend's room. “What are you doing here?”

“Boss gave me the day off so I could pack for the trip tomorrow.” said Kenna. “You know about that, right?”

“Sure did.” Maude said. “I just imagined the mission head would get the info before you, though.” she joked.

“Technically, I'm leader of the Nerd Squad for this.” said Kenna. “But yeah, the reason I was told early was so I'd have more time to pack due to my 'disability'.” she waved her hand in the air. “So that was kinda mean, but hey, paid time off is paid time off, am I right?”

“You're evil.” said Maude.

“Hey, the man offered me the time off, I didn't ask for it.” said Kenna. “Though, I am glad for the extra time to think. I'm trying to figure out what exactly to bring.” she had a wide array of different machines on her desk.

“Um, one that detects demons?” Maude suggested.

“Right.” Kenna laughed. “Alright, you're just distracting me, go do your own packing.” Kenna stood up from her desk chair, playfully pushing Maude out the door.

“Okay, okay, you didn't have to push me.” Maude laughed, holding her hands up.

“Yes I did, you would have taken forever to get out if I didn't.” Kenna argued. She reached up and tugged on Maude's curly hair. “Now go pack, Ms. Leader Lady.”

“Of course, Doc.” Maude waved her hand, and walked to her door one room down.

She didn't want to pack too heavy for this trip, despite it being one with an indefinite stay. She picked her green carry-on bag, and stuffed it full of clothes, packing a week's worth of civilian clothes, two extra uniforms and her dress uniform, filling the rest of the open space with pajamas and toiletries.

Then was her big suitcase, with tape wrapped around the sides labeling it as part of the NMII Demonology Department—basically telling the TSI not to worry about any items they found in the bag. That was where she packed most of the gear that she couldn't take on the plane with her, items like her gun, old dusty tomes, and other weaponry that she needed. By the time she was done with it, it was easily forty pounds.

Her last bag was a simple backpack she took on the plane with her, it carried her electronics, ID, and stuff like that.

“I'm done packing.” she said, walking back into Kenna's room. “And now I'm bored, so I'm gonna harass you, okay?”

“Of course, Maude.” Kenna rolled her eyes, hands drifting over her equipment. Her desk had barely any devices left on it, most of them unstable prototypes and duplicates. “I think I've packed all the electronics I need. Now I just need to pack my clothes.”

Kenna stood from her chair and drifted to her bed, grabbing her own NMII issued bag, this one with a label saying it was from the lab analysis department. “Help me zip it?” she asked, looking in Maude's direction.

“Sure.” Maude joined her at the bed, helping hold down the suitcase with Kenna pulled the zipper, at the end pressing the button that activated the closing ward, which would keep the bag closed unless authorized personnel tried to open it.

“Dang girl, how much stuff do you think you're gonna need?” Maude asked, pulling a few stray hairs out of her face.

“This is a major case, Maude.” said Kenna, pulling the bag off her bed and onto the floor. “You saw what the demagi-counters said, right? The energy there maxed out the machines at over ten million points! This is huge.”

“I know, and it warms all the cockles of your little nerd heart.” Maude said smiling. “But seriously, I'm excited too, I mean, I'm getting trusted with this big a case.”

Kenna just smiled and nodded, hand drifting to grab her own carry-on bag to fill with clothes. Mostly she put pajamas and her NMII normal and dress uniforms in the bag, before gently adding her sensor suit charging station to the bag. She filled the remaining space with some toiletries, but left some open space as her sensor suit wouldn't be allowed on the plane.

Her backpack was also filled with things to keep her entertained on the plane, some books and a tablet.

“It's my turn to cook dinner, right?” Maude asked as Kenna piled her suitcases at the door to her room.

“Um, it's Wednesday, right? So yeah.” Kenna said.

“Hm.” Maude paused in thought. “How do fish tacos sound to you?”

“Fine.” said Kenna. “I'm turning on the news.” she said, and went to sit on the couch.

“Oh! Play channel fourteen, I heard they're doing some sort of special tonight. It's something to do with before the Transcendence?” Maude said, heading into the kitchen.

“Okay,” Kenna said, settling into the cushions. “TV, turn to channel fourteen.” she commanded, pressing the control button on the armrest.

The TV turned on, and sure enough channel fourteen was having a special on myths before and after the Transcendence, and how there was proof that some time in the distant past there had been a sort of reverse-Transcendence.

“This is neat.” Kenna murmured absentmindedly.

Maude set to frying the fish in a pan, also listening to the story, nodding along as the vaguely British-sounding woman spoke. When she was sure the fish would cook without her supervision, she switched to the hot plate to cook some pre-made tortilla dough.

As she was turning off the heat to the fish, and pulling off the last of the tortillas she was going to make, the door slid open again.

“I'm home,” called Tyrone as he stepped in.

“Hey,” said Kenna, her attention still entirely on the TV program.

“We're having fish tacos for dinner.” said Maude. “Get in here and help me finish taking sauces out of the fridge.

Ty did as he was told, joining Maude in the kitchen and helping her pull guacamole and pico de gallo from the fridge while Maude was struggling to pull out a vat of sour cream.

“Kenna, you can come in now, food's ready.” called Maude.

“Sure.” she said, attention still on the TV. Maude rolled her eyes, grabbed the remote off the counter, and turned the TV off.

“Come eat food, you malnourished nerd.”

“I'm not malnourished.” Kenna defended, standing up from the couch and stretching before walking to the kitchen.

“Only because I force you to eat at least once a day.” Maude teased, lightly slapping Kenna on the back of the head.

“Probably.” Maude agreed. “Hey! Ty! Stop hogging all the meat!” she shouted when she noticed Tyrone was shoveling all the fish chunks onto his own plate. “And get some vegetables, you literal child.”

“Caught.” he groaned, putting about half of his fish back and shoveling some lettuce onto his tacos.

“What would you two do without me?” Maude wondered, grabbing her own plate and beginning to make her own tacos.

“Probably starve.” said Kenna.

“Or burn the house down.” Added Tyrone.

“Honestly.” Maude scoffed as she brushed past Kenna to dump an obscene amount of lemon juice on her tacos.

In the end, Kenna's tacos were the only ones that looked vaguely normal, having a decent amount of fish lined with guacamole and pico de gallo, while Ty's had a ridiculous amount of meat and a smattering of lettuce and sour cream, and Maude's were just fish and lemon juice.

“Oh, so we're going to be going on a business trip.” Maude said while she was eating around the table. “There's a huge amount of demonic activity in northern New York state, we're checking it out. Watch the house while we're gone.”

“You kidding?” Kenna asked. “Have you met Ty? He's going to hunt us down and join us on the trip anyways.”

“That's true.” Ty said, a chunk of food falling out of his mouth.

“At least let me pretend?” Maude groaned, taking another bite of her taco, wincing at the sourness. “Really, I don't mind. But I think the bosses are starting to get irritated that you pop up everywhere we go.”

Kenna nodded. “Honestly I'm surprised they let you live here.”

“It's only because he doesn't pay anything towards the apartment, his name's not on the paperwork.” Maude said.

“Little bit less than legal.” Kenna nodded.

“I am offended that you two would accuse me of illicit activities!” Tyrone exclaimed,  dramatically placing his hand on his chest. “And I call you my friends.”

“Can it, Dorkus.” Maude laughed, leaning over to slap him across the table.

“I'm being attacked!” Ty shouted, holding up his arms in front of his face.

“I'll show you attacked!” Maude shouted back, and stood up from her chair to get at Ty better.

“Not at the dinner table.” Kenna said calmly, pulling her plate closer to her and out of the line of fire.

“Of course Kenna dear!” Maude said, and sat back down. She held up 'watching you' fingers to Ty, and he playfully returned the gesture.

Kenna rolled her eyes, and quickly finished her taco. “I'm gonna head to bed early, travel day tomorrow.” she stood up and began walking away. “G'night.”

“Good night!” Maude called back. “I should probably go to bed soon too.” she said, shoving the rest of her taco in her mouth. Once she finished, she stood up.

“Good night.” said Ty around a mouthful of taco.

“Sweet dreams.” Maude said back, smirking before walking to her room.

As she walked down the hall, she noticed a bit of movement in Kenna's room. She had changed into her pajamas and pulled her carry-on bag back onto her bed and was wrestling with it, struggling to shove her sensor suit in.

“Do you need help?” Maude asked, leaning her head in he door.

Kenna jumped slightly, and spun to look at Maude. “That would be nice, thanks. I thought I left enough space for my suit, but it's not working.”

Maude jumped onto Kenna's bed, looking into the suitcase for herself. “If you flatten your pajamas and shove them in the side behind the charger, your suit should fit.” she suggested.

“Let's see.” Kenna muttered, and grabbed her rolled up pajamas, before doing as Maude suggested and shoving them behind the charger. She tried again to put her suit in, gently so that none of the sensor pads could be damaged, and found that it fit, but just barely. “It works, thanks Maude. Can you help me zip it?”

“Of course!” Maude said, and laid down on the top of the suitcase while Kenna pulled the zipper.

“Thanks.” said Kenna.

“No problem.” Maude said, “Good night, hugs.” she leaned across the bed and pulled Kenna into a bear hug.

“Maude! You're suffocating me! Get off!” Kenna squealing, squirming in Maude's arms. “Go to your own room.”

“Alright.” Said Maude. “See you bright and early tomorrow to get on the plane.”

Kenna just groaned. “Don't remind me, just get out of here.”

“Of course dear!” Maude said, walking out of Kenna's room and going to her own room. Unlike Kenna, she didn't have any last minute packing to do, so she just changed into pajamas and went to bed.

“Maude, did you forget set your alarm?” Kenna asked, shaking Maude's shoulders.

“Huh, what?” asked Maude, sitting up in bed. “What time is it?”

“I'll take that as a yes?” said Kenna. “It's eight-thirty, Maude. You need to get dressed like now, we're gonna be late.”

Maude groaned and rolled out of bed, dragging her covers onto the floor with her. “Okay. Give me a minute.”

“And we're not gonna be able to eat at the house. We'll have to pick something up at the airport.”

“Got it.” Maude said, and ushered Kenna out of her room. She got dressed in simple travel-day clothes, lose black pants and a baggy green shirt that reached her upper thighs. She put on her backpack, and grabbed her roll-along bags and began to tug her way out of her room.

Kenna was sitting on the couch, waiting for Maude to be ready. She, like Maude, was dressed for comfort, wearing loose blue pants and a red shirt—Maude didn't have the heart to tell her the colors looked horrendous.

Her head popped up when she heard Maude struggle with her bags on the carpeting. “Great, we can leave now.” she said, standing up and making her way to the door. She had her retractable red-white cane strapped to her wrist, but she wasn't using it. Kenna hovered next to the door, waiting for Maude to catch up and put her shoes on.

“Wait, Kenna!” Maude said last minute as Kenna opened the door. “It's cold in New York! You need a coat!”

Kenna groaned. “No, Maude, I really don't.” she began to argue, but Maude had already grabbed both her own and Kenna's coats off the rack and shoved them into her backpack.

“Don't be silly!” Maude said. “And hey, at least you'll have it! Just in case.”

Kenna rolled her eyes, but didn't argue the point any further. She turned to walk towards the elevators, vaguely listening to Maude make a huge show out of yelling farewells to Tyrone, even though he wasn't awake yet.

There was a taxi waiting for them in front of the building—Kenna had called one last night because she didn't like the idea of Maude trying to drive before ten in the morning. She could hear Maude's suitcases scraping along behind her.

“Kenna! Don't leave me behind!” she whined, coming to a stop next to Kenna.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” said Kenna.

“You two going to the airport?” the taxi driver asked, getting out of his car.

“Yes,” both Kenna and Maude said at the same time. The man popped open the trunk, and got out to help Maude fit all the bags in the trunk.

“Lots of luggage for two little girls, huh?” said the driver as they finally found a way to get everything to fit in the small trunk.

“Need lots of weapons for this trip.” Maude casually said, and the driver let the topic drop.

Maude and Kenna both rode in the back for the fairly short ride to the airport—the NMII office and barracks were strategically positioned in the middle of the airport and the hospital. The driver made small talk with them, talking about how long he's been driving, where he'd worked before, weird people he's seen on the streets. Honestly, none of it mattered to Kenna, who was listening to a podcast, but Maude was loving it.

“What do you mean you witnessed an exorcism on a street corner in down town?” Maude asked as they pulled into the drive way at the airport.

“Well—okay, so at the time I was living in downtown New York City, absolutely insane place, alright? I was stopped at a red light, and there was one of those people with a microphone and a big sign declaring it was the end of our days, all that jazz, and a man in a like, costume or something. I didn't understand it, and the dude was clearly all human, so not even a preter. And this guy, with his big sign and mic, just kept yelling for demons to 'leave this man in peace!'” the driver laughed. “It was insane! I sat through a couple of greens just to keep watching! I have a picture!”

“Oh!” Maude said. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah, sure, just lemme get parked. What airline are you two on again?”

“Oh, um...” Maude floundered for a bit, before poking Kenna to get her attention. “What's our airline?”

“National Airways.” Kenna said, pausing her podcast. “Are we there?”

“Not yet,” said the driver, right as he pulled up to the curb for their airline. “Now we are. Anyways, here's that picture I was talking about.”

It was exactly the scene the driver had been describing, except Maude noticed one thing.

“That's hilarious!” she said, and grabbed her own phone to take a picture off of the man's screen. “Thanks for showing me!”

“No problem! Here, I'll help you get your things out of the back.” said the driver as he got out of the car.

“Thanks,” Maude said. “Kenna, be careful, you're opening your door into traffic.”

“Okay,” Kenna said, rolling down her window so she could listen for approaching vehicles. Hearing none, she opened her door and stepped out, trailing her hand along the car as she walked to the trunk.

Maude had already gotten their bags out of the trunk, and was paying and tipping the driver when she got there.

“Here are your bags.” Maude said, pushing a few things toward Kenna, “And your backpack.” This one she put into Kenna's hand.

“Thanks,” said Kenna, grabbing her things.

Maude and Kenna walked onto the sidewalk, and the taxi drove away.

“So,” Maude started. “I thought the man in the picture the driver showed us looked familiar. I ran a facial recognition program on my phone. They're the same person.”

“Which man in the picture?” Kenna said.

“The one doing the exorcism, not the one being exorcised.”

“Hm,” Kenna said. “Think that could be his motive?”

“Well yeah, obviously he's crazy and paranoid. Though, that doesn't explain the amounts of demonic energy.” Maude said, gently pulling Kenna into the correct check-in line.

“You'd think someone that scared would be constantly purifying the air around them, almost compulsively.” Kenna said.

They were only second in line, a combination of the company paying for employees to fly business class, and Kenna's blindness. It didn't take long for a teller to open up for them, greeting them with a smile.

Checking in wasn't a particularly long or painful process, the woman just took pictures of Maude and Kenna to match up against the known passenger database, and printed out their boarding passes. She took their bags, put stickers labeled NY on them, and directed Maude and Kenna to the security machines.

On their way to security, Maude pulled out her and Kenna's NMII ID cards, and they let the guard check the validity of their cards before bypassing security all together.

“So, what do you want for breakfast?” Maude asked, hefting her backpack higher on her back, rolling her carry-on behind her, her other hand on Kenna's arm. “There are sandwiches, bagels, cinnamon buns, breakfast tacos... oh, breakfast tacos sound pretty good.”

“Yes, I know all about your taco addiction.” Kenna said, laughing.“But, I actually ate back at the house. You can eat whatever you want.” she had just as many bags as Maude, but she also had her cane in hand to help her maneuver.

“You ate without me?” Maude asked, sounding scandalized. “My best friend let me sleep through breakfast, only to wake me mere moments before we had to leave. You let me starve.”

“I figured you're a big girl and you can wake up by yourself.” said Kenna. “But if it makes you feel any better, I'll pay for your breakfast.”

“No, I can't take advantage of you that way.” Maude said, and completely missed Kenna rolling her eyes.

“Alright, big girl.” Kenna said. “Let's go get you a taco, you're obviously about to die.”

“And it's all your fault!” Maude laughed back.

The line for breakfast tacos wasn't long, Maude got a sausage and egg taco, while Kenna caved and got herself some pigs in a blanket.

“I ate at the house.” Maude teased as they walked to their gate.

“Yeah, well, you know, shut up.” Kenna stammered, laughing. “Let's just get on the plane.”

They arrived just in time—the woman at the desk was calling for passengers with disabilities that needed more time to board, so Maude and Kenna just breezed on up and got on the plane.

“You know, traveling with a blind person is really useful. I highly recommend it.” Maude joked as she and Kenna found their seats in row three, seats A and B.

“I know,” Kenna agreed. “You walk up with a red and white cane, and doors just start opening.” she smiled and punched Maude in the shoulder, gently.

“I call window seat!” Maude yelled.

“I get aisle, I guess.” Kenna said at a normal volume. She held out her hand, “Here, I'll shove your backpack under the seat while you get the carry-ons in the overhead.”

“Aw, thank you dear!” Maude said, handing Kenna her bag, and moving so Kenna could get into the row of seats, pulling both carry-ons with her. Another perk of getting on the plane first was there was no chance for them to run out of overhead space.

By the time other people started boarding the plane, Maude and Kenna were already settled in, with neck pillows out and headphones on.

“Hey, Kenna?” Maude said, “I'm gonna take a nap, wake me if the plane catches fire.”

Kenna just snored in response.

Maude laughed and curled up in her seat, resting her head on Kenna's shoulder. She fell asleep to the gentle thrumming of the plane taking off.