#catching (crappy) screen shots for something else and here we are

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Once upon a pitch:

Two years later: the team's reaction to the old kerfuffle.

Who would have thought, eh?

Bonus: Roy and the coaches and Jamie looking to Roy and the way they're all smiling and who would have fucking thought?

Who would have fucking thought.

[prismatica-the-strange]

Have I Ever Told You I Love You? | Urushihara Hanzo x Streamer!Reader (Part 1)

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and idk if you can call this angst

Word: 1270

    During his short stint in the small apartment with two other guys, Lucifer managed to find his own little world in his laptop. While it wasn't capable of running the games he wanted he was able to enjoy them vicariously through various streamers.

        His favorite streamer was a pink-haired girl from California. He came across her stream late day when he was scrolling through Stitch (Twitch). He knew a little English from the research he'd done for Maou and Ashiya, it was rough, but through some Foogle Translate, he managed.

        The first time he made her laugh through a badly translated off-handed comment, he knew he was done for. He would do literally do anything to hear her laugh like that again. 

        She wasn't a super popular streamer but had a loyal following that made a tight-knit community. It wasn't hard for him to start a conversation with her, and so a friendship began.

        A handful of months later, the short interactions turned into late night text sessions, and he went to as many streams of her's as he could.

        "What in the world are you watching?" Ashiya asked him one day.

        "None of your business!" He growled.

        "I think it's that girl he likes," Maou said through a mouthful of noodles.

        "What are you talking about?!" He yelled, "Why would I like some human? She's just good at gaming!"

        Oh, but he liked her. He liked her a lot. 

        One night he got a notification that she was live, which was odd cause it was almost 3 am where she lived.

        The title of the stream was "I'm drunk and wanna play games!" He chuckled to himself and opened her stream.

        She was sat at her normal streaming setup, but her face was flushed and hair messy.

        She had 'Golf With Your Friends' up, one of the few games his crappy laptop could play. He then got a text from her that said 'Join us' with the room password and a little purple heart.

        He quickly pulled the stream up on his phone and loaded the game, wasting no time getting into the room.

        With his phone propped up next to him, he saw her face break into a big grin.

        "Angel boy!" She smiled, his username was FallenAngelxxx, but she thought it was cute when he got flustered when she called him 'Angel Boy'. "I'll send you the link to the Biscord server voice call." 

        He never even thought to make a Biscord account, so he quickly set it up, claiming the name Angel_Boyxxx.

        "Angel boy, you there?" She asked when he joined the call. They hadn't voice called before and she was almost anxious to finally hear his voice. 

        "Yeah, I'm here." He said thankful Maou and Ashiya were out for the night. After he started watching her, he used what little magic power he had left to help him learn the monstrosity that is English.

        "Hey," She breathed before someone else in the call made a vomiting noise. "Shut it, Pat!"

        "You guys ready to start?" Wade laughed.

        As the night went on, she kept a constant state of drunk causing giggles and stupid comments. 

        "Hey, Angel," She said an hour or so into their play session, as the others were AFK for a few minutes, "Have I ever told you I love you?"

        He froze mid-practice shot, causing him to miss what he was aiming at completely.

        "I love you so much," She giggled.

        "What's with him?" A voice said behind him as a door shut. "Urushihara? Why's your face so red?"

        She gasped excitedly, "Who's that, Angel?"

        "He's not sick is he?" Another voice said, "Jeeze we can't afford a hospital visit right now."

        "I-I-" He covered his mouth with his hand, his face bright red. "Why now?"

        He moved awkwardly and his headphones came unplugged.

        "Angel? You okay?" Her voice sounded almost concerned through the haze of alcohol. "Angel?"

        "Who's that?" Maou asked, looking at the screen quizzically.

        "Are you playing those damned video games aga-" Ashiya started.

        "It's no one!" Lucifer rushed, slamming the laptop shut, cutting off another 'Angel'.

        He grabbed his handheld game and sat in the corner, trying to hide his blush behind his hair.

        The other two men shrugged and started talking about the next day's plans.

        About five minutes later, Lucifer's phone began to ring. He managed to snatch it before Ashiya grabbed it.

        "Were you about to answer my phone?!" He nearly screeched, "Can a guy get any privacy around here?!"

        "As your superior, I need to know you're not talking to any undesirables," Ashiya argued.

        "You mean like you old farts?" He hissed, before stepping into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. 

        The phone had stopped ringing when he went to finally answered and he slouched against the wall, head hung low.

 ~~~~~~~

        He was so embarrassed that it took him two weeks to go back to another stream or even answer any of her texts. He barely even went near his precious computer and Maou and Ashiya were even slightly concerned. 

        She was busy in-game and missed his meek little 'hi' in chat, he sighed and cradled his head on his arms on the desk, eyes staring at the screen.

        When she paused to read chat, someone told her he was there, even going as far as to ping him.

        Her eyes lit up as she asked, "You still here Angel Boy?"

        He put a purple heart emoji in the chat and she smiled.

        "Where you been? I- we've missed you," She said as she went back to the game.

        FallenAngelxxx: Who missed me?

        He couldn't help but tease her about her little slip-up.

        She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his chat, "Shut up."

~~~~~~

        For the next three weeks, they texted every day, he was so distracted he even stopped ordering stuff. Until one day she never texted him her usual 'Good Morning Angel.' In fact, she never texted him at all that day and he was beyond worried. Sure she'd missed a couple of texts before, but nothing like this. He scrolled through their last conversation, wondering if he'd said something to make her mad.

        Ashiya watched him get more and more worried, "That girl you like not talking to you?"

        "No, she's not," Lucifer muttered from his place in the corner, just loud enough for Ashiya to hear. He was anxiously playing his handheld to take his mind off it.

        "Well, you probably did something in your own brand of stupid to upset her-" His roommate was cut off by a discord call on his computer.

        Lucifer scrambled to his computer, leaving his game unpaused on the floor.

        He glanced at the time as he answered the call, it was past 2 am for her.

        "His Majesty will be back soon, must you take a call instead of-"

        "I'll get to it later!"

        She chuckled as he tried to get his roommate off his back.

        "Hey Angel," She smiled, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

        "H-hey, where've you been all day? I... I was almost worried." He lied.

        "I-heh... Just a super busy day, I guess." 

        "You sound tired," He commented, "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

        "Don't wanna," She whined sleepily, "Help me stay up?"

        "Okay, you wanna play a game or something?" He scrolled through his Solar library for something to play.

        "Uh-uh, too tired," She yawned and he nearly 'aww'd, "Let's just talk for a while."

        "Y-yeah, okay." The other line went real quiet, "You still with me?"

        "Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm here," Her small sleepy voice was doing things to his heart.

        "So," She yawned, "How was your day?"

        "Boring," He scoffed.

        "Tell me all about it," She said, "I wanna know every detail."

        "Every detail?"

        "Yep. What did you do? What did you eat? What stupid thing did your roommate yell at you for? Did you play anything fun? I want to know all of it."

        "Heh, I uh..." He had no idea what to say, he definitely wasn't telling her he spent the whole day freaking out, "You know, I just played some stupid game on my handheld and slept. Ashiya was out most of the day, so he really only got on my case a few minutes ago."

        "That's it?" She almost sounded disappointed.

        "Yeah, just another boring day." He shrugged. There was a knock on her side and he could hear her adjust.

        "Ah, that'd be room service," She groaned as she got up, "Be back in a mo."

        "What? Roomservice?! Where in the Hell are you?"

        "What's up with you?" Maou asked right next to him, causing him to jump and let to a small yell.

        "What the Hell, man?! I didn't even hear you come in!" He shouted, "You can't just scare people like that!"

        "Who can't scare what now?" SHe asked through a mouthful of food.

        "No not you- It's just- It's nothing Maou just scared me is all." He stammered.

        "Oh. HI ANGEL'S ROOMMATE!" she yelled loud enough that Maou could hear it through the headphones, making Urushihara yank them off his head.

        "Uh... Hi, Urushihara's girlfriend?" Maou answered unsurely.

        "Wha- She! Sh-sh-She isn't my girlfriend!" Lucifer argued, putting his headphones back on to hear her bubbly laughter.

        "I'm not?" She giggled, "Well maybe I should be since everyone already thinks it."

        His face flushed bright red as he stared at the screen. "W-w... Really?"

        "Yeah, the guys make fun of me for it all the time. They even said that I told you I loved you on stream once, ridiculous, right?"

        "A-actually..." He trailed off. "You kind of... did. I was there."

        It was quiet again.

        "N-no one clipped it?" She said in disbelief. Someone had actually clipped it, and he had it on his phone. Every once and a while, he would play it and his heart would do somersaults.

        "Well, no taking it back now," She chuckled. "Guess the cat's outa the bag."

        His jaw dropped.

        "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies," Ashiya teased and Lucifer threw a magazine at him. "That was uncalled for!"

        Lucifer grabbed his laptop and stormed out to the hallway. 

        With the door closed, he set his computer on the washer.

        "You love me?" He asked, trying not to sound completely desperate, unaware of Maou and Ashiya's ears pressed against the door.

        "Of course I do Angel."

        "Wow..." He felt like crying he was so happy. "Me too- I mean! No, I- shit... You don't even know what I look like."

        "Well... What are you doing in two days?"

        "What? Uh, my roommates are dragging me to some stupid work thing, why?" 

        "Can you get out of it?" She asked hopefully.

        "Unlikely," He frowned, "Ashiya is dead set on getting me out of the house and won't let me out of his sight."

        "Oh... Ok." Great, now she was sleepy and sad.

        "What was your idea? Maybe we can reschedule?" He suggested.

        "I'm only in Japan for the next three days, so I don't think it'll work."

        "YOU'RE IN JAPAN?!" He yelled, "Like, right now?!"

        "Good Hanzo, do you mind keeping it down?" Suzino asked from her doorway, "Some of us are trying to enjoy a quiet evening."

        He waved her off and went back to questioning the girl. 

        "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

        "Didn't know till a couple days ago myself. I thought I'd surprise you." She told him shyly. "The guys had an extra spot on their panel at some convention and invited me."

        "Scrw what Ashiya wants, where's the con?"

        "It's at the-" There was a loud bang outside the building, the lights went out and he lost internet connection.

        "No... No! NO!" he gripped the side of his computer and begged her to tell him.

Taglist: @unicornwithachainsaw83​ @steviestyle​

Masterlist​

[mst3kproject]

The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues

I found this movie online while looking for From Hell It Came (which I haven’t yet found – someday I will and then you’ll all be sorry) and it looked bad, so I checked out the details.  Turns out it stars Kent Taylor from The Crawling Hand, Cathy Downs from The Amazing Colossal Man, and was written by Lou Rusoff, who was behind It Conquered the World, The She-Creature, and… oh god, he also wrote Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow.  This is gonna suck goat nads.  I must watch it right away.

You shouldn’t picture me groaning when I write stuff like that, by the way.  You should picture me giggling like a maniac and rubbing my hands together with glee.

A monster is killing people at sea near an incredibly bleak and depressing California college town, and the bodies and wrecked boats it leaves in its wake are scorched by radioactivity! Washington sends Agent Grant to find out what’s going on, and he soon discovers that the Pacific College of Oceanography is positively overflowing with suspicious characters.  There’s the reclusive and paranoid Professor King, who is working on weird experiments in his locked laboratory.  There’s King’s assistant George, who follows him around and hides in the bushes to watch what he’s doing.  King’s secretary Ethel blames the professor for the death of her son and wants revenge, and George’s girlfriend Wanda is a foreign agent.  Not to mention the visiting Dr. Stevens, a radiation expert with an unsettling habit of turning up just in time to discover the bodies.  Someone among this motley crew has created a sea monster… and someone else is planning to sell it to the highest bidder!

You know how some movies save their monsters until the last minute, in order to build suspense?  Or because what we imagine is always scarier than what we actually see?  Or because the monster sucks and they’re ashamed of it?  Or some combination of the above?

Phantom from 10 000 Leagues is not one of those movies.  Before we’re even a full minute into it, the monster has appeared on screen in all its ridiculous glory.  Stevens calls it a hideous beast that defies description but I think I can make an attempt.  It looks sort of like the lovechild of a saber-toothed tiger and the Horror of Party Beach.  There’s a ridge down its head and back like an iguana and a poorly-camouflaged window in its neck so the dude inside can see what he’s doing.  The whole costume is also rather buoyant, and the actor is having to work hard to stay underwater.  Sadly, this beast remains lurking in the depths and never shambles out onto the beach to menace sunbathers, which is the only thing it would have needed to make it a perfect bad movie monster.

The creature is not the only nuclear threat in this movie… or even the silliest one!  During an investigatory dive, Stevens discovers a glowing patch on the seafloor which he says represents an ‘activated’ uranium deposit with the potential to form a naturally-occurring death ray!  We finally get to see this in action when stock footage of a ship passes over it – and turns into a different ship that immediately blows up! I’m just sad this only happens once. The glowing stone itself is represented by a mirror with a light shining on it in underwater shots, and by the reflection of the sun when seen from the surface.

So the effects are not special and make an already silly threat even more hilarious.  What about the story?  Like all cheap monster movies, the focus of The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues is not the creature killing people but the investigation into it.  There’s a large number of potential monster-makers here, which could have made the movie a bit messy – but by the time the words The End appear, we know who all these people are, how they’re involved, and what they hope to accomplish.  Even the women are given distinct motivations and personalities, although those fall neatly into the ‘maiden, mother and whore’ tropes I’ve discussed in the past. The dialogue is not exactly subtle, but it seems like I can’t wholly blame Lou Rousoff for Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow.

It’s also nice that, despite the preponderance of White Men In Suits (Stevens and Grant both walk along the beach in suits and ties at all hours of the day and night), the characters all look different enough that I can tell them apart!  None of the cast are great actors, with a lot of stilted or awkward line deliveries, but then, a lot of the things they’re saying are completely ridiculous, so I probably can’t lay that entirely at their feet.

Unfortunately, the plot of Phantom From 10 000 Leagues is rather unfocused, and like so many of these films it’s not sure who its main character is.  It seems like either Agent Grant or Dr. Stevens, who are each conducting some kind of investigation into the goings-on, ought to be the protagonist… but both are introduced in contexts that make them seem potentially suspicious.  Dr. Stevens is actually significantly more suspicious than Grant, because when he first turns up he gives a fake name, and later proves to have actually performed experiments with mutating sea life in the past.  Yet for much of the movie, it’s Stevens we’re watching, as he cozies up to Professor King and flirts with King’s daughter Lois.  He actually gets far more screen time than Grant, with the latter sometimes being out of the movie for long enough that the audience kind of forgets he’s there.

Stevens and Lois’ love story is, as is probably inevitable for a movie of this kind, completely bland.  Kent Taylor and Cathy Downs have no appreciable spark between them, and one gets the uncomfortable impression that he’s about twice her age. The movie never offers even an approximate age for either character, but Lois is still unmarried and living with her father, which in the 1950s suggests she’s in her early twenties.  King describes Stevens as a ‘young man’ but between his appearance and his impressive academic credentials he’s obviously not, and when I looked up the actors I learned that Taylor was forty-eight when The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues was made, while Downs was twenty-nine.  That’s… well, they’re both adults, but he’s still old enough to be her father, and the younger we assume they both are, the worse the two decade gap gets.

Once we actually get to know the characters, the solution to the mysteries is fairly obvious, but this lets us spend some actual time with these men and find out what they think about the situation.  Stevens, who’s been down this road before, wants these terrible experiments to stop before any more people get hurt.  King, hearing about it for the first time, is more excited about what he might be able to learn by building on Stevens’ work. This represents an interesting inversion because if you’ll recall, King is supposed to be significantly older than Stevens (though actor Michael Whelan was actually born only five years before Taylor).

Usually knowledge and wisdom are both associated with age.  This is a very old trope and has some fairly sound logic behind it: the elderly have had longer to learn and to experience.  In Phantom from 10 000 Leagues, however, we have the older Professor King excited by the ground-breaking discoveries made by a younger scientist and wanting to learn more about them, even when the (supposedly) younger Stevens warns him about Tampering in God’s Domain.  Each assumes the role their ages might make us expect of the other.

This is reflected in their respective fields: depending on how you define it, oceanography is as old as mankind.  Humanity has been mapping the seas for as long as we’ve known how to sail across them, and marveling at the monsters we pull from its depths for as long as we’ve been catching fish.  That is the Professor King’s domain. Stevens, on the other hand, is a specifically nuclear scientist. Nuclear physics technically begins with the discovery of radioactivity in the 1890’s, but it seemed like a new and scary field in the 1950s, as the development of atomic weapons forced scientists to take a closer look at the phenomenon’s effect on living tissues. To King, who is an expert in another field, the possibilities of this relatively new work outweigh the potential consequences.

As sloppy and poorly-made as Phantom from 10 000 Leagues can be, this contrast between Stevens and King does make it a movie with something to say.  It of course has the standard moral for a fifties atomic monster piece, about paths science is not meant to tread, but it also wants us to think about that connection between age and wisdom.  On the one hand, King’s interest in Stevens’ work tells us that you’re never too old to learn something new.  On the other, just because somebody is young doesn’t mean they have nothing to teach. If King had taken in Stevens’ wisdom along with his knowledge, a lot of suffering need not have happened.

Even if you’re not into that, the crappy monster, the bad acting, the ridiculous science, and all the sneaking around and backstabbing that goes on makes Phantom from 10 000 Leagues plenty of fun watch.  It’s much like Beginning of the End in that it ticks all the MST3K boxes, while remaining coherent enough that you can enjoy the actual story along with the badness.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Mommie Dearest (Ethan x MC)

Summary: After 26 long years, Ethan finally comes face to face with his mother

Author’s Note: I wanted this to be out in time for Mother’s Day, but my writer’s block was like “lmao”, but better late than never, right?

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @adrex04 @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartwriting @mvalentine @nooruleman @ruinedbypixels

~v~

Ethan Ramsey has never been so nervous in his life. Not when he did interviews for medical school. Not when he met Dr. Banerji. Not even when he finally asked out Naomi for a date.

Walking into an Italian restaurant to meet his mother has him at his peak.

She’s been trying to reach out for months now and he’s been able to rebuff her at every turn, but she’s really kicked it up these past few weeks. It all culminated in her showing up at Edenbrook, in front of his office, telling everyone within a few feet of her that she’s Ethan Ramsey’s mother.

Alan wanted him to reach out at least once, to see if the mother and son could actually make amends. Naveen thought so as well. An hour or so of his time could answer a lot of questions, and maybe help him seek closure.

It wasn’t until Naomi spoke up did he actually agree to give it a shot. She said he deserved answers, he deserved to be heard, and his mother owed it to him more than anything to sit down and face him.

So now he’s here. Coming face to face with Margaret Ramsey for the first time in over two decades. He wants to turn around and run. He wants to hide somewhere. He wants to call Naomi and tell her to come to the restaurant and help him muddle through this dinner. But Ethan doesn’t do any of that, instead he powers through.

She’s sitting at a table right in the middle of the restaurant, casually glancing at a wine menu. A gasp catches in his throat at the sight of her. She’s so much different than he remembers her, his memory only ever able to produce a hazy figure, but she’s still so similar, just older. She’s skinnier than he can recall, more frail. She’s wearing a simple green sweater and jeans, her hair in a bun, with a pair of cubic zirconia earrings, but Ethan can tell this is her version of getting “dolled up”.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing, gaping at her like she’s some sort of museum exhibit, but Margaret breaks the trance, staring up at him. A wide grin breaks out on her face and she instantly stands up. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you came!”

She reaches out to hug him, but Ethan bristles and takes a step back, recoiling from his mother’s touch as if it’d burn him. Margaret flinches, but she doesn’t make a fuss over it. “Sit, sit!”

Ethan slides into his seat as Margaret does the same. For a long while, they just stare at each other.

Again, Margaret is the first one to break the tension. “I know you said you’d come, but I’m still shocked to see you. I really thought you’d change your mind.”

He did change his mind. Multiple times throughout the day, Ethan went back and forth on this decision, unsure if it was the right one. “Well, I’m here.”

“I’m glad.” Margaret looks him up and down. Gone is the lanky 11 year old she remembered, and there’s a grown man in his place. It feels surreal, the amount of time that’s passed. “You look so good. Parents often wonder what their kids are going to look like but wow, seeing you so grown up is...mind boggling.”

She isn’t some distant aunt or third cousin twice removed he’s seeing at a family reunion, but his mother. His growth wouldn’t be such a shock if she actually stuck around. “A lot changes in 26 years.”

“Touche.”

Tense silence hangs above them like a dark cloud. The only reprieve they get is when a waiter comes to the table to take their drink order. Ethan springs for a bottle of wine, needing alcohol to get through this.

“Your father tells me you’re some sort of hot shot doctor,” Margaret starts. “And you have a whole team of people under you.”

“I do,” Ethan confirms. “It’s a diagnostics team.”

“A what now?”

“Diagnostics. We treat the untreatable. When no one else knows what’s wrong, we step in and get things figured out.”

Margaret oohs at the explanation, smiling. “You sound so fancy. Like Dr. House!”

“Sort of. I’m not addicted to opioids though.”

“My son, the doctor. I always knew you were destined for greatness. You came out of the womb smart and wise beyond your years.”

The anecdote might’ve been nice coming from his dad, but hearing his mom say it makes him shift uncomfortably. She’s a stranger, for Christ’s sake. She doesn’t know a damn thing about him, about his potential for greatness.

Quickly, Ethan lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip. He exhales slowly, carefully measuring his next thoughts and words. “What are we doing, Margaret?”

The question catches the older woman off guard. “What do you mean? We’re having dinner.”

“Okay, but why? Why are we here? Why now? I’m 37 years old, why did you pop back into my life at this point in time? What do you want?”

“It would’ve been a lot sooner, but you weren’t too receptive to a reconciliation,” Margaret points out.

“So it’s my fault? Is that the angle you really want to go for?”

“No! No, of course not.” Margaret’s eyes shift around the dining room, casually observing her surroundings. She feels anxious now, jittery.

Eventually her gaze reruns to Ethan and she gives him her full attention. “I guess I’m just tired of running. I know I’ve missed out on so much, more than I can ever make up for but, I’m here now. I’m here and I’d love to be in your life again. You asked me what I want, I just want you, in whatever capacity you’ll have me.”

“Why’d you leave in the first place?” Ethan asks. “I thought we were a family, I thought we were happy.”

“Ethan…” she doesn’t want to go down this road. “Can’t we leave that in the past?”

“No.”

“I don’t have an answer.”

Ethan shakes his head. “That’s not good enough. There had to be some reason you left your job, your home, your husband, your child. You left and you never looked back. I deserve an answer, any answer. Witness Protection, alien abduction, anything.”

“I was young,” Margaret says. “I was 19 when I had you, I was still a baby. And we just settled into...monotony and routine, and I felt antsy. I didn’t think I could be a good wife and mother, my heart wasn’t in it. I thought no mother or wife would be better than a crappy one, and you guys would be better off without me in the picture.”

“You have some extremely flawed logic, Margaret.”

She only shrugs in response. “I know, but you weren’t anticipating a perfect answer. So...can we please just try to enjoy this dinner?”

Ethan ponders the question. He is starving, and this is a restaurant he’s been meaning to try. While the company isn’t what he’d usually want, Ethan is sure he can make do.

“We can enjoy dinner.”

Margaret smiles, her eyes crinkling slightly as she does so. “Yay! I hope they have a good chicken marsala because I am starving.”

~v~

By the time they’re finishing appetizers, Ethan has relaxed considerably. Maybe it’s the glass of wine, maybe he’s finally ready to ease up around his mother, but whatever it is, Ethan is grateful.

“Tell me more about your job,” Margaret probes. “I may not know all the medical mumbo jumbo, but I’ve seen E.R. I can kind of follow along. How long have you been in Boston?”

“Since I graduated medical school, 11 years now. I did my internship at Edenbrook, and I never left.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“You don’t ever want to be somewhere else? Like Stanford? Or Johns Hopkins?

“They’re great, but no. And I went to Hopkins for medical school, I’ve had my fill of them.” Ethan’s phone vibrates in his pocket. “Excuse me.”

He slips his phone out and looks at the screen. It’s a text message from Naomi.

How are things going?

He quickly sends her a reply.

I think they’re going...ok.

And you know I hate texting.

It takes her less than 10 seconds to respond, his phone beeping multiple times.

Yay!! I’m so glad things are going well!

And you love me, so you’ll deal

Ok, I’ll leave you alone now.

That makes Ethan roll his eyes, but he smiles at the message.

“Talking to someone special?” Margaret asks, gaining his attention.

Ethan’s head snaps up and he looks at his mom. “Huh?”

Margaret points to the phone. “Your face just lit up when you read your messages. Your dad told me that you’re seeing someone. Is that her?”

“Yes.”

“What’s her name?”

Ethan doesn’t know if he’s willing to talk to Margaret about something as precious to him as Naomi. Does she deserve to be privy to his personal life?

He decides to take the leap. “Naomi.”

“Ooh, like the supermodel,” Margaret coos. She raises an eyebrow. “Are...you dating the supermodel?”

“No, I’m not dating Naomi Campbell. Naomi—my Naomi—is a doctor at Edenbrook.”

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“Seven months now.”

“Do you love her?”

“Very much so,” Ethan confesses, not a hint of trepidation in his voice.

“Well what are you doing still being boyfriend and girlfriend? Sounds to me like you should lock things down and marry her.”

Margaret Ramsey is the last person Ethan will ever take relationship advice from. “Naomi and I are perfectly fine with the pace of our relationship. I’m not going to rush anything.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Margaret sighs wistfully. “”I just...I've wasted so much time, and I’ve missed so many moments. And now that I’m back, I’m projecting. It’s misplaced, and I overstepped.”

Ethan softens slightly. “It’s fine, no need to apologize.”

“Besides, there’ll be plenty of time for me to one day see you gg walk down the aisle. I don’t know if your father told you, but I’ve been looking for a place of my own.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I got a job at a local grocery store, and I’ve been trying to find something close by, ideally in Boston or close by.”

“Good for you.”

Margaret looks around, unable to meet Ethan’s gaze and she rings her hands together. After staring at the passing waiters and patrons for a while, she turns back to the table, though her eyes remain fixed on the tablecloth. “I’ve been trying my hardest recently to get my life back in order after spending so much time aimlessly flitting around New England. But no one tells you how challenging it is to do that.” 

Finally she meets Ethan’s eyes. “In my hunt for a place of my own, I’ve come to realize that it won’t be smooth sailing. My savings is abysmal, and my credit is shot, so passing credit checks is hard and banks want such high down payments on houses and even higher interest rates.”

“I know you’ll probably think I’m ridiculous for bringing this up, and I hate to even mention it, but I just thought if in order for you and I to get on the right track, you’d maybe want to help. I guess it’s safe to assume you’re doing well…”

Ethan sees his mother’s mouth moving, but the rest of her spiel fades out like white noise. This is what she really wanted to meet with him for? Money?

A chill runs through his body, starting at the base of his skull, traveling down the length of his spine, and moving outwards. He feels frozen in place, like he’s being forced to sit in this chair.

Everything is jumbled and he can’t form a coherent thought to save his life.

Whatever it is, he wills it to pass. He doesn’t want to cause a scene in the restaurant, and he doesn’t want to be emotional in front of this woman.

It takes a long time for him to regain control of his person, but when he does, he releases a breath. Margaret is still going on, talking about a loan manager, but he holds up a hand to stop her in her tracks.

“You’re good,” he says. “Like...really good.”

She feigns confusion. “Good at what?”

“Acting. You’re so good at being a grifter, the lies and tall tales come so easily to you. You begged me to meet you, forced my dad to beg, and for what? Because you’re flat broke.” Ethan chuckles humorlessly. “What, did you Google me and dig for my net worth? Find out what type of car I drive? Research how much condos in my neighborhood cost?”

“Ethan, I–”

“Save it!” His tone is so sharp, it makes her flinch. The couple at the table next to them stop talking in order to stare. “I can’t believe I let my guard down around you, even slightly. You’re still the same piece of garbage you were 26 years ago.”

“You know Margaret, I would’ve respected you more if you would’ve been upfront and said you wanted money. Sure, I would’ve still said no, but there was no need for the disingenuous long con. You didn’t have to pull my dad into this, you didn’t need to show up to my job, you didn’t have to pretend to care about making amends, about being a part of my future, any of it.” Ethan hastily stands, pulling out his wallet. Hands trembling and clammy, he pulls out a crisp hundred dollar bill and throws it on the table. “Don’t ever, in your pathetic excuse for a life, reach out to me again.”

Ethan doesn’t bother grabbing his jacket. Instead he just turns around and walks away, ignoring Margaret’s pleas and shouts.

~v~

The drive home is long, silent, and tense, but Ethan makes it without snapping his steering wheel in half or causing a rage induced accident. He’s trying his hardest to remain calm, because who the fuck is Margaret and why does she have the right to get under Ethan fucking Ramsey’s skin? But it’s not working. He can feel all of the emotions simmering under the surface, crackling with a sharp intensity.

He opens the door to his apartment and crosses the threshold. His eyes fall on Naomi, sitting on his couch, curled up in a thick blanket, watching some silly reality show. Jenner’s on her lap, happily watching the show with her as she scratches his ears.

His entrance garners their attention and they look up. Naomi’s eyes widen and she cranes her neck, hoping to get a look at the time on the microwave from her spot on the couch. “Ethan! What are you doing here?”

“I live here, Rookie,” he quips. Ethan kicks off his shoes, leaving them at the door

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Obviously, smartass. I thought you’d still be having dinner with your mom.”

“I don’t have a mom,” Ethan says, his voice taking on an edge she’s not used to. “I had a surrogate who stayed 11 years too long.”

Naomi stands up and walks towards Ethan, who’s heading into the kitchen. She watches as he rinses out a glass and pours himself some scotch. “What happened? I thought things were going well.”

“I thought so too.” Ethan downs the drink in one gulp. “We were doing okay, she asked about my work, she asked about you, about us. And then it all culminated in her asking me for money.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she claims she wants a down payment for a house close by, but who knows if that was the truth. I could cut her a check and she’d be out of the state within an hour.”

Naomi frowns. “Baby, I am so sorry.”

“What is there to be sorry for?” Ethan asks. “Seriously, what? This isn’t your fault. Margaret showed me the type of person she was 26 years ago when she said she was going to the grocery store and she never came back. She showed me who she was when she never once tried to see me. I didn’t hear from her on my birthdays. I didn’t hear from her when I graduated high school, college, medical school, nothing. She wasn’t there when I got my tonsils removed, or when I won the science fair.  She disappeared like a thief in the night without a backwards glance and without a shred of remorse. And even tonight, not once did she apologize, she just gave me a shitty excuse about how she thought I was better off without her, and you know what? She was goddamn right. Margaret Ramsey showed her true colors a long time ago, hell, even all those months ago when she stole out of the convenience store.”

“Birthdays, Christmases, 26 Mother’s Days came and went without her. You know what was really fun? Seeing my friends in school have moms that participated in bake sales, and ‘Back to School Nights’ and field trips. It was great having the other parents and classmates take pity on me because I was the motherless child.”

“And she just waltzes back into town thinking, ‘Oh wow the kid I abandoned actually made something of himself. I researched doctor’s salaries in Boston, Google tells me he lives in a multi-million dollar apartment complex, he drives a Mercedes. Maybe I can swoop in and upend his life once more.’” Ethan takes the tumbler in his hand and throws it against the wall. Naomi jumps back, startled by the loud crash. “Fuck her! She’s dead to me.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath and takes a step closer to Ethan. “You don’t mean that.”

“I absolutely do mean it,” Ethan argues.

“No you don’t. Because if you were truly done with the situation, if you were truly healed, you wouldn’t be so worked up over it.”

Ethan glances at the shards of glass littering his kitchen floor. “No, I think that did it. I think I got it out of my system.”

“I think you should–”

“You know what I think?” Ethan interjects, not giving Naomi the chance to speak. “I think we should move on.” He turns to his girlfriend and takes a step closer, eyes raking over her. “Moving on, hello. I don’t think I greeted you properly.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I’m sorry I even let thoughts of that woman follow me home.” Ethan surges forward, his hand curling around Naomi’s waist, pulling her closer. He bends slightly, inhaling her scent. Her skin is soft and she smells like coconut. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I even went to that dinner,” Ethan murmurs. “I could’ve been here and showered with you.”

Naomi can see right through him. He’s deflecting, trying to push his feelings aside. He’s so good at it, bottling everything up, but she doesn’t want that to happen. “Ethan–”

He cuts Naomi off again, this time slanting his mouth over hers, enveloping her in a kiss that threatens to steal the breath straight from her lungs. She scrambles, arms flailing as she tries to hold onto something that will keep her upright. Thankfully Ethan walks them backwards until her back is pressed against the fridge.

His tongue sweeps across her bottom lip before invading her mouth, deepening the kiss. Desperate to touch her, Ethan grips her hip in his hand, reveling in her warmth. Naomi is here. She’s here. She’s real. And she’s not going anywhere.

She breaks the kiss, the urge to inhale too strong to ignore. Her palms rest against his chest, and she can feel just how erratic his heartbeat is. Sparing a glance upward, Naomi’s breath catches in her throat as she sees Ethan looking down at her, tears in his eyes.

“Ethan, talk to me,” Naomi pleads, taking his face in both of her hands. “Don’t shut me out, don’t try to deflect.” Ethan shakes his head, unable to find the words, unable to say them out loud. Naomi sighs. If he won’t start the conversation, she will. “I love you. I love you so much, and I am so sorry. I’m so sorry about your mom. You deserve so much more than she’s ever given you.”

That seems to help push things in the right direction, as Ethan slumps forward and rests all of his weight on her, his false bravado gone

“Why does it s-still matter?” Ethan asks, his voice breaking as the sobs settle in, wracking his body. “Why do I still care so much?”

“Because you’re not the robot you pretend to be.”

“I’m so stupid. I should’ve never agreed to do this.”

“You’re the furthest thing from stupid. You needed to see her for yourself. She owed you answers and closure.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“You did, it just wasn’t pretty. Now you know for certain the type of woman she is.”

But why did he have to throw himself back into the lion’s den in order to find out what he already knew? Now all of the old wounds have come back to surface, open and raw, ripe for picking. He feels like he’s been turned inside out and left for the taking.

“All these y-years later, and she still doesn’t...love m-me,” Ethan cries, fat tears rolling down the apples of his cheeks. “She st-still doesn’t want me. What did I do?”

Standing in front of her isn’t her 37 year old doctor boyfriend, but a heartbroken 11 year old who desperately wants his mom to come home from the “grocery store”. His pain is palpable, and Naomi’s heart aches for him. Ethan was dealt a shitty hand, and he didn’t deserve it at all.

His weight becomes too much for her to bear, and they sink down on the kitchen floor. Ethan buries his head in Naomi’s lap and she just cradles him. She’s never seen Ethan this upset and out of sorts, not when Delores died, and not when Naveen was on the brink of death, so she feels like a fish out of water.

“You didn’t do anything. You’re the child, you can’t carry this burden. Your mother is at fault, and it’s all her doing.”

She doesn’t know what else to say to him. She can tell him that he’s smart, and successful. She can tell him that he’s a wonderful guy, and that he deserves the world, and his mother is a selfish idiot for not seeing what she sees, but she doesn’t know if it will help. All the compliments and platitudes in the world can’t make up for your own mother not wanting anything to do with you.

So she doesn’t say anything. Silence falls between them, the only sound to be heard coming from the television and Jenner occasionally whining from his spot on the couch. Naomi simply strokes his hair and other places she can touch on his body.

They stay in that position for a long time, but the cold tiles of the kitchen floor become too uncomfortable to ignore after a while. Naomi stands up and drags Ethan along with her as they make their way to his bedroom.

Ethan is dead weight and doesn’t offer much help, so Naomi rids him of his clothes by herself, until he’s left in nothing but his boxers. His last bout of energy is used to collapse into bed, where he curls into Naomi’s side, holding her close.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Naomi says, breaking their silence. “I think you should take a personal day. You deserve to get some rest.”

She expects him to argue. He’s Ethan Ramsey, a workaholic, and if anything, he’ll use this as a reason to bury himself further in his work.

But he doesn’t argue. He nods and says, “Okay.”

“I’m sorry if I was too aggressive earlier,” Ethan continues, his voice still soft and quiet. “Yelling, throwing that glass, kissing you like that, it wasn’t appropriate.”

“Apology not needed. But thank you anyway.”

Ethan rolls over and stares at Naomi, analyzing her features. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Naomi kisses his bicep, too lazy to stretch up and kiss his lips. She rolls over and turns off the lamp at his bedside.

It doesn’t take long and she can feel herself getting sleepy, the events of the past hour taking their toll, a heaviness settling in her bones. As she starts to doze off, Ethan calls out for her. “Hey, Naomi?”

“Hmmm?”

“You’re the most important family I have.”

And with that, he falls asleep.

[snarkythewoecrow]

Dialogue prompt for Tony and Peter - “Nothing doing, kiddo. Reye’s Syndrome is the last thing you need.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what the first part of the prompt was supposed to be. I thought it might be a typo, so I just used the second line. It turned out to be a fun, light sickfic. Hope it’s close to something you wanted :) special thanks to @red-leafy and @workadayfan for their help. I would still be staring at the screen without them

--

Peter didn’t think he could get sick. It had been years since he had something more substantial than a sniffle, but now it was like his body was making up for lost time.

He was absolutely miserable. His body ached, each muscle and joint making itself known. His head hurt, and there was building pressure in his sinuses that made him feel like his eyes were going to pop out. And to top it all off, he’d come down with whatever virus this was on his road trip with Tony. They’d been planning this for months, and now it was ruined. 

It was supposed to be his last hurrah with his mentor before college. They were going to drive around the country over the course of two weeks, stay in fancy hotels, and visit things like the biggest ball of twine and going to pet alligators in Arkansas. 

The trip was supposed to be fun, but somewhere between Ben and Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard and the mini Jurassic Park in Connecticut, Peter had come down with something that could only be described as the plague. He felt awful, and even without a thermometer, he knew he was burning up. 

Tony was driving them to the next hotel, already having called Bruce to ask for advice. His recommendation was rest and fluids. Peter was down for that. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, and his head felt fuzzy. Sleep would be a blessing. 

Peter finished his bottle of water, sticking the empty container back in the cupholder. He groaned, his headache pounding.

“How’re you holding up?” Tony glanced at him, his mouth turned down. 

Peter laid his head back against the rest and closed his eyes. “I’d kill for some Tylenol.”

“Have you checked the glovebox? There might be a few packets of something.”

“I looked before. The only thing in there are dubious-looking ketchup packets.”

Tony huffed, then looking away from the road for a second, he dug in the center console. “I swear I had something in here.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark. Can we just stop at a gas station or something? They’ve got to have something.”

Tony turned his attention back to the road. “Yeah, I’ll get off at the next exit, and we’ll see what we can find. Try to rest until then.”

“No problem there. I’m too tired to do anything else.”

Peter drifted off, dreaming of dinosaurs and balls of twine. Someone jostling his shoulder woke him up a little while later, and he blinked, looking around in a daze. He rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?”

“Speedy Gas. I need to fill up, and hopefully, we can find something to make you feel a little better.”

Peter hummed in response, unbuckling his seatbelt. His nose twitched, and he tried forcing air through the swollen passages. It didn’t work. “I’ll go check out the store. Do you need anything while I’m in there?”

“One of those Starbuck’s Double Shot Expresso drinks, mocha flavored. Here take this,” Tony said, passing him a black card. “Get whatever you want.”

Peter nodded, hand moving to the door. “Be right back.”

Peter searched the store, but he could only find a single packet of aspirin. It wasn’t likely to do much for him, but he bought it anyway, along with Tony’s drink and a water for himself. He hadn’t eaten since that morning, but he wasn’t hungry. He felt too miserable to eat. 

After paying for everything, he took his haul back out to the car and met Tony, who had just finished pumping. Peter slipped into his seat, tossing their empty bottles from earlier into the back. They’d been throwing their trash into the backseat for the whole trip. The trash heap had begun to encroach on the front seat. Peter shoved it back and then turned back around. They could clean the car later. Tony had said it was about being a free spirit or something. Peter just thought they were both lazy. 

Setting the new drinks in the cup holders, Peter glanced over when Tony got back in the car. The man eyed the backseat with a frown. 

“I think there might be something growing in there.”

Peter huffed. “You think? At least it doesn’t smell yet.”

Tony sighed, starting the car. “Maybe we should take some of the worst garbage out at the next hotel. Did you get something for your headache?”

Tony still hadn’t pulled away from the pump. He reached across and pressed his hand to Peter’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Peter grunted, holding up the packet of aspirin. “I got this. It should help.”

Tony’s brows pinched together, then he snatched it from Peter’s hand. “Nope, none for you. Sorry.”

“What? I’m sorry but wasn’t that the whole point of stopping? You just said it. I’m burning up.”

Tony’s eyes squinted as he read the back of the packet. “Just like I thought. Reye’s syndrome is the last thing you need right now.”

“Reye’s what?” Peter asked, feeling way too sick for this shit. 

“It’s a syndrome kids can get from taking aspirin when they have a fever. Something I learned after we had Morgan. Sorry kid. I can’t risk it.”

“You know I’m like eighteen. I’m not a kid anymore, Mr. Stark. I’m legally an adult, in fact.”

“Sorry, not risking it. You can wait until we get to the hotel, or I can look for a Walmart, whichever comes first.”

Peter sank back into his chair and sighed. He didn’t have the patience for this. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift as the car pulled back onto the highway. 

They did, in fact, stop at a Walmart, and Tony went inside to find medicine. Peter waited in the car, radio on in the background, the pounding of his head almost matching the music's rhythm. Tony wasn’t long. When he returned to the car, he had two bags full of every cold and flu medicine they had in the store. 

Plopping the bags on Peter’s lap, Tony sat in his seat and turned to Peter, grabbing one of the bags in peeking inside. Peter watched him with a grimace, feeling too crappy to comment. 

Tony made a triumphant noise and then pulled a bottle of what looked like watered down grape juice out of the bag. It wasn’t juice, though. Peter wasn’t that lucky. 

“Pedialyte,” Tony announced, as he used his teeth to peel the plastic safety label off. Then he uncapped it and held it out to Peter, who frowned. 

“Uh?”

“Drink up,” Tony shoved the bottle at him, and Peter instinctively grabbed it, holding it close to his chest with both hands. “I talked to the pharmacist. This should keep you hydrated.”

“It’s just a cold,” Peter deadpanned.

Tony scoffed. “Just a cold, he says. You’re burning up, Pete. This is definitely falling into flu territory. I should know. I’m a doctor.”

“Of engineering.”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. It’s all the same, or it should be.”

Peter sighed. He really didn’t feel up to this conversation. Changing the subject, he nudged the bags on his lap and said, “Can I at least have some medicine now?”

Tony grabbed one of the bags and dug into it. He pulled out some cold and flu liquid gel caplets. After tearing open the box, he handed Peter two. “I want you to at least drink half of that.”

Peter rolled his eyes, popping the pills into his mouth and washing it down with the salty-sweet liquid. His face pulled into a grimace after he swallowed. “This is terrible.”

“It can’t be that bad. It’s made for kids.”

“It’s like lightly salted diluted Gatorade. In no way is it good. If you make me drink this, I’ll puke.”

Tony eyed him. “Half.”

“None.”

“A quarter of a bottle, and I’ll let you pick the music for the rest of the trip.”

Peter considered, glancing down at the offending bottle of Pedialyte in his hand. “For the whole trip? Not just today?”

Tony huffed. “Yes, the whole trip if it makes you drink.”

Peter wasn’t sure he’d actually won, but he sighed and brought the drink to his mouth, chugging down a quarter of the bottle in a few giant gulps. His face twisted once it was all down. He recapped it and tossed it to the floor by his feet. 

He felt too tired and crappy now to listen to the radio, but if he felt better tomorrow, it would be worth drinking it. There was only so much classic rock Peter could listen to. 

“How long ‘til we get to the hotel?”

Tony glanced down at the GPS. “About an hour.”

“Mm, all right. I think I’m gonna catch a nap. I think the cold medicine is kicking in.”

Tony hummed in response but otherwise didn’t say anything. It felt like Peter had a heavy blanket on him, weighing him down. His limbs protested when he adjusted in his seat to get more comfortable. His sinuses were still clogged, but there was a slight lessening of pressure, so he had hope he’d be breathing better soon. 

Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the seatbelt and let himself fall asleep. 

With any luck, he’d feel better tomorrow. If not, he was sure Tony would take care of him. It wasn’t like they had a shortage of medicine. Even though he was sick, he still tucked the memory of the day away as a good one. It might not be the road trip they’d planned, but it wasn’t half bad either. Maybe they’d still get to pet an alligator. 

[prairiedust]

I’m attempting a rewatch ahead of the Final Seven-- I’ve made it to 15x05 Proverbs 17:3 and guh. This is an episode that Chuck ostensibly Authored but the folklore themes I pinged on in season 14 are so freaking loud!

The cold open shows us three golden-locked girls camping in the woods-- ding ding ding threes again! They make three toasts, one of which (the last, of course) sets the third young woman apart as a “downer.” (“Of the three potential vessels, Ashley had the best hair”) This merging of Authorship with the reemergence of magical “threes” is important at a time when the Season Plot surfaces for the brothers.

(Even the tent is gingham. Seriously.)

“Ashley,�� it turns out, is the only one to escape, even though it’s clear that she doesn’t actually do anything differently from her friends other than be slightly more practical about leaving the tent-- she ends up running through the woods being chased by the werewolf brothers, too. It’s only Andy’s ��mercy” in the woods that ensures she lives. When we get to the bros, Dean asks about the three prior mountain lion victims. Three times Dean catches crap for using old photos on their new fish and wildlife identification cards (which, btw, except that he made up new aliases for himself and Sam, he might as well have used their old cards from Wendigo? Then asserts that “nothing has changed” which begs the question. What has? is that… foreshadowing?)

Maybe the three’s hearkening back to folklore is a statement that all stories come from ur-story-- every one of Chuck’s Ultimate Stories end in “brothers killing each other.” That’s his favorite motif, and it’s something that finally gets verbalized for the Winchesters after seeing it play out with some of Chuck’s auxiliary cast. 

Everything in this episode is so ridiculously staged-- the campers are wearing “camping costumes” and are in a tent that looks like it was made by LL Bean to resemble a tent. the sheriff’s office looks like the Smoky Mountains Sugarlands visitors center, the hospital is too open, empty, and pristine, Ashley dresses later like an American Doll while wearing the yellow neckerchief of the BSOA “Wolf Scout” of all things,* and her name is evocative of “Ashputtel,” a German Cinderella. The cabin with the cute blue shutters evokes a fairy tale cottage.

(Those shutters are Quaint.)

I mean, starting with 15x01 everything on screen has looked weird-- shot compositions are gorgeous in some places, weird in others, signage seems too on point, even the proliferation of blossoms in Harlan is over-the-top-- but this ep is strange squared. The hotel! The hotel in which Dean mysteriously falls asleep-- dun dun DUN-- is called The Sleepy Bear Inn, and that evokes/subverts the story of Goldilocks, but also serves as a callback to Tombstone where Cas tells us that Dean is “an angry sleeper, like a bear.” Later, Dean mysteriously falls asleep…. hmm.

(Fwiw, a sleepy bear used to be the mascot of Travelodge. I love the way this show side-eyes real life stuff.)

(This might be my favorite still from the entire episode.)

I found all of the antler symbolism to be really, really loud, as well-- on the wallpaper of the Sleepy Bear there were rams, a stag, pronghorn antelope, (all animals with built-in weaponry) and then finally a bear depicted in little vine-covered shields ….

(All ungulates and one dude looking in a mirror.)

(All ungulates and one bear. Also, I love the midcentury national parks vibe of that wallpaper.)

Then at the were-brothers’ cabin, the red painted and taro-covered walls were saturated with antlers on wooden plaques (totally shield shaped) and various taxidermy (note the fish on the yellow wall)…

(Those antler lamps were ugly but also looked like hands holding lights in their palms.)

...a set of which Dean even attempts to use as a weapon and upon which later “Ashley” is accidentally impaled. (I apologize for the crappy screengrab lol.)

(Antlers are an ungulate’s own handmade weaponry...)

Now Sam, with his visceral wound-connection to “the Author,” is able to pick up on the weirdness, but on a preconscious kind of level. It’s weird that the sheriff goes right to “monster.” It’s weird that they pick up the brothers’ trail so quickly. The brothers act weird when confronted. And weirdly, Dean falls asleep and the were-brothers spirit “Ashley” away.

The fight scene in the cabin is interesting, too. Ashley!Lilith clings to a bookcase while the Winchesters fight the weres, of all the things to do. The only books with titles that I can make out are-- hilariously-- ComparingTheories of Child Development and Elementary Composition. In fact, a few of the books look like they were put on the shelf upside down as well as sideways-- carelessly, because they’re “just scenery.” The production team often uses these older books sans book jackets on sets like, “here are some books.” But sometimes they’re funny [LINK]. Anyway, there are several reaction shots of “Ashley” literally climbing the bookcase as the brothers fight one another. Also, Lilith is literally scaling a symbol of Authorship to stay out of the fray-- subtext that makes her reveal later as Chuck’s agent very satisfying.

(I get that she couldn’t run with all of the Heroic Fighting going on, but she’s also weirdly exposed. Also, as a parent, I was acutely aware of how tippy that thing looks, haha.)

Dean is the one who is most heavily influenced by the Author in this episode-- it is he who brings the corny Fish and Wildlife costumes, he who is interviewed and manipulated by Lilith, and he who is literally put to sleep in the Sleepy Bear Inn. However, he is surrounded by an aura of “wildlife”-- visual symbols like fish, bear, stags, antelope, moose, and wolves. 

Again, visual shenanigans, we have a bear screening the shot inside the motel room-- then we immediately see Dean and Lilith coming through a red door that is marked with an “exit plan.” While certainly in keeping with Spn’s tradition of funky motels that usually explicate some aspect of the setting, again this one feels, like the trueform sleepy bear outside, gently aggressive.

(Is this a bear cub? Does it make anyone else thing of Smokey the Bear’s origin story?)

(Is it just me, or does that hospitality table tent look like Dean’s “I wuv hugs” shirt from DSOTM?)

There’s also an element to the production of this episode that might be mimicking “Chuck’s Wounded Writing,” like “The Winchesters pull up to a quaint, run-down cabin, which was decorated with the usual antlers, taxidermy, and old books,” so you get a rundown cabin with cute shutters and yes, antlers inside it, or “The walls of the murder room dripped with blood, and various tools hung menacingly from the ceiling racks,” and if you look, there are just like ball peen hammers and animal traps and shit hanging up in there lol. I believe there is even a scythe. Josh is going to kill “Ashley” with a tomahawk, of all things. The word “proverb” means “words put forth.” Details that typically get filled in with whatever the matrix of reality can churn up were Described ™  and that had ramifications in the product of the text. I just can’t help thinking of Chuck just, wording the hell out of his story. 

The whole episode, as the text we’re experiencing, gave us the same sense of hyper-reality that was goosing Sam.

It isn’t until they are back at the Bunker that the brothers are free for the moment from Chuck’s Writing. Here, figures of speech and writing conventions take on different meanings. For instance, the roles that the car and the bunker play as settings in the overall “story” of Supernatural are made really explicit-- the Impala is the setting for the emotional debriefing that we had in the previous episode (which shines a light on Lilith’s conversation with Dean on the way to the Sleepy Bear Inn) but it isn’t until they get back to the Bunker in Proverbs that they can apply Logical Communication and Dean tells Sam what Lilith told him, and then Sam comes to understand that he has A Connection with Chuck.

(Look at all the books under the lampshade, in a scene where Dean and Sam finally figure out the plot of the season. Visually, this show is just bonkers.)

I just wanted to sort of map out where the folklore themes were possibly appearing before moving on to 15x06 Golden Time where we get that beautiful Orpheus and Eurydice allusion and move into more mythic territory. Like Dean himself says in the next episode, we don’t know where Chuck’s Writing ends and the freeplay of his characters begins. Golden Time seems like a welcome respite from the advance of the mytharc, but everything is called into question later. This whole season reminds me of this poem-- if you read it straight through, it feels absolutely apocalyptic, but upon reflection, the previous half of a line makes sense once you see the first half of the line below it. I think that structurally, this season is brilliant like that.

So this is where the Winchesters are at-- Chuck still somehow has strings on them. While that connection goes to an unknown degree in both directions, they’re back at square one-- no family, no friends, no allies, no arc ahead of them but fratricide. 

On to Golden Time...

*My brother was, at one time, a wolf scout, and I went to the interwebs to verify that the wolf scarves were indeed yellow like I remembered, only to find out that interestingly BSOA changed the wolf scout neckerchief to red last September. Also at one time in the near past generic scout bandanas were yellow. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[supernaturalmarauders]

Welcome home (SPN cast reader x crew and boyfriend)

Summary: the readers boyfriend is in the navy and had been deployed for the past year and a half. The boys surprise the reader at a con, and the whole audience knows. And at the end he proposes.

Warnings: crying, fluff, laughing, basic Jared and Jensen joking.

Please give me feedback I’ve wanted to write this for a while I’ve just struggled

You and they boys were currently at a con. You had been going to cons since you were eighteen; and you were now 21. Honestly you knew the boys had been doing it a lot longer, but for you cons freaked you out. You tended to be one of those people who didn’t care however when it came to cons you cared the most. Everything had been going pretty smothly so far. You always enjoyed cons with Jared and Jensen because they were the two funniest people you know.

Xxxxxxx

“My question is for Y/N” said the audience member which made Jared her fake angry and Jensen to just seriously judge Jared.

“Don’t worry about them sweetie, Jared’s just a two year old in disguise. What your question” you ask politely ignoring Jared hurt expression.

“Well, we know about everyone one else’s love life but we don’t know about yours. I understand if it’s to personal but I was curious if there was possibly a boyfriend in your life” asked the lady from the audience. Suddenly everything when’d quiet, which made you feel uncomfortable.

“Umm... I didn’t really think it was ever that much of a secret but yeah, I do have a boyfriend. I haven’t seen him for a year and a half since he’s been deployed in the army” you say in honestly. The audience just smile and Jared and Jensen look at you making you feel even more uncomfortable.

“Okay next question” says Jared noticing how uncomfortable you were getting. Jared picks another woman in the audience whom also has another question for you.

“So I also have a boyfriend in the military, however he’s only been deployed for about a month. I was wondering what it’s like having such a long distance relationship” said the lady. You sad smile understanding what she was going through.

“Honestly it get easier but harder at the same time. Because you become used to being by yourself without him next to you all the time. But it’s also hard because you can go weeks without a letter and be terrified because you have no if your boyfriend is still alive. And sometimes it gets really hard to think about all the things your missing. I think though, I can give you one word of advice. If you miss him just think about all the good he is doing for you and so many other people. Because without people in the military than the world would fall apart” you say smiling. The lady smiles and passes the mic back to the man.

Xxxxx

“Okay guys so we’re going to have a little competition. Y/N, and Jared are going to see how many darts they can get closest to the bullseye. But there’s a catch, if they win, then they get a suprise”. Said jensen causing the audince to cheer 

“When he says surprise, he means, there isn’t a surprise. he just wants to see weaher a girl can beet a guy at a simple task such as sharades” you say causing audiene to once again laugh and jared and jensen to glare at you. 

jensen brought out the targets and the games began. it wasn’t much of a competition seeing as jared could hardly get a shot in without it bouncing off the metal. you however managed to get almost every shot smack bang centre. honestly you were suspicious . jared was always pretty good witch accuracy and never had an off day, ever. and it wasn’t like jared to just loose and sit back and take it. he always threw a very fake overdramatic tantrum. 

“And Y/N finally won somethin against jared” mocked jensen making you put your hnds on your hips. 

“Seriously, am i the only one who thinks thats a bit fishy” you ask to the audience, all of which reply with a shake of there heads, indicating that they did not see anything wrong. What you didn’t know was that they were in on everything.

“Let me guess, I win a bag of snail shells, and an extra week of planking from the two of you” you say with sarcasm.

“We aren’t that mean Y/N” said Jared mock hurt.

“Sure you aren’t” you say rolling your eyes making the audience laugh.

“Here read this out loud” said Jensen passing you a letter.

“Hey baby, this note is currently being written a day before I leave you. If your reading this it means that times are getting tougher. Stay strong Y/N, I love you so much” you finish whispering and trying to stop the tears escaping your eyes.

“Why would you make me read that” you say trying to contain the emotions that you felt.

“ turn around” says Jared making you look at the screen behind you, suddenly is on the screen. The very last picture you had of you and your boyfriend.

“Why are you torturing me like this” you say, unable to contain the emotions. Not realisisng what had happened untill you heard a familiar voice behind you, one you never thought you would hear again.

“Because I asked them to” said the voice. You turned around so slowly you couldn’t believe your eyes. Suddenly nigers falls started falling from your eyes as you gripped onto your boyfriend for dear life, letting his uniform soak the tears you had in your eyes. The audience were flashing photos and gen and Daneel who were backstage with the kids couldn’t stop the tears from falling down there cheeks.

“I missed you baby” he said not removing you from his embrace. Unable to reply you removed your head from his shoulder and smashed your lips into his, causing the audience to erupt in cheers. The kids was very rough, but contained all the emotions that you had. Gen and daneel came out of the wings to go and be with there husbands. They were no where near taking your moment away, but they were not about to miss what was going to happen.

After the kiss ended you just stood there falling into his embrace.

“I love you” you say loud enough for the audience to hear but muffled by his shirt.

“I know you do” he says pulling you tighter to his chest. During that time many fans had not turned of there phones continuing to record everything that was happening. Daneel and Jensen were crying, and Jensen and Jared had smiles from ear to ear.

“You were all in on this, weren’t you” you say pulling away from your boyfriend and looking at them.

“Maybe said Jensen and Jared in unison making you smile. You ran into there arms, not sparing anytime in giving all four of them big hugs, thanking each and everyone one of them individually. What you didn’t notice was that a video started playing behind you. What alerted you however was the sound of the audience starting to sing falling in love by lily Reinhart.

You looked up frozen in your place as you watched the videos and photos from you and your boyfriends 4 years of dating, even the ones where you were so little. You couldn’t help the water works as they once again flowed freely out of your eyes. Once the video had stopped you looked over to Jared and Jensen who were gesturing to you to turn around, slowly you turned around and saw your boyfriend on one knee holding a box with a beautiful ring.

You instantly broke into one of the biggest rages of sobs you had ever experienced. Your boyfriend smiled and everyone elses “awwed”

“ Y/N Y/L/N, I have loved you for four years, and I can’t imagine my life without you, and I never want to go another day in fear that I’m going to loose the one woman who u would do anything for. You are so special to me and never want to loose you, not ever. You make me the happiest man alive , and bring a smile to my face every time I see you. So Y/N, Will you marry me” finished your boyfriend running a finger through is H/C hair.

You break down for what felt like the 100th time and run into his hands once again making his uniform soaked. You stood there for a few minutes sharing a deep kiss trying to tell him how much you love him.

“You never answered my question” he said once again going to one knee, the audience stopped and sat in anticipation while j2 held there wives closer.

“Of course you Idiot” you say looking into his eyes whilst the audience applaud, and Jared and Jensen cat whistle. He slide the ring onto your finger and you wipe your eyes. He embrace you in a hug not letting you go. The cheering of the audience started to blur out whilst you were in your lovers embrace, nothing else mattered at that time, just that you were with the person you love most, and would love most for the rest of you’re life.

“Let’s give it up for loving couple everyone” you hear Jared say into the mic, making you pull you chest away from your now fiancés. You smiled into the audience and help up both your hands, making them cheer even louder.

There were very few moments you had ever experienced emotions as strong as this. You once again hugged (boyfriend name) and weren’t letting go. He tightened his grip around you indicating that he was never letting you go.

You knew for the first time in a long time that you would fall into a easy sleep, with (boyfriend name) holding you, and the people you considered your family right beside you

Sorry it’s so short and crappy, like if you want, I don’t mind, I hope you enjoyed. I just wanted to write about something that would make people smile. Yeah I know the vocabs pretty bad. There will be mistakes but I will go through and fix them later.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

TDSB: Episode 2, Part 1. Something Fishy This Way Comes...

*Cloud, Richter, and Stevie are in the Smash Bros Lounge watching TV. Cloud is reading, Richter is nursing a glass of wine, and Stevie is playing Candy Crush on his phone with the TV acting as background noise. Wario walks in on them lie this.*

Wario: What's up losers.

Richter: Screw off Wario.

Stevie: Aye mate! We're trying to get our hogwillies a rest 'ere ya humdinginer billabong!

Wario: Once I find out what that means I'll come up with a crushing reply.

*Wario plops down on the couch and grabs the remote, flipping through channels. Cloud looks up from his book, but double takes when he sees something familiar*

Cloud: Hold up! *grabs the remote from Wario*

Wario: Hey! What's the big i-

Cloud, flipping back through the channels: Shut up!

Stevie: Oi mate! What's got your bloomdingers in a sodfeelfen?!

Cloud: Look! It's Ganondorf! He's on TV!

*Sure enough all see Ganondorf on the television, now wearing a gaudy silver suit*

Richter: What the- he's right!

Wario: What the hell is going on here?! ...And why the hell is Ganondorf wearing THAT?

Ganondorf: Last time, on Total Drama Smash Bros! *cuts to the twenty contestants on the dock when they first arrived* Our contestants arrived here in Camp to compete in the greatest Reality TV show yet!

Cloud: That's all the Smashers that Master Hand called away on some secret mission!

Richter: Well now we know that's bullshit.

Ganondorf: *screen cuts to the Smashers joining their respective teams* After forming up and meeting their teammates, it was time for their first challenge, *shot of the contestants playing the game* VOLLEY-BOMB! *shot of Peach negotiating with Pit and Zelda* Alliances were made, *shot of Bonny Janet and Link arguing* strife was founded, *shot of Lucina getting blown away* and days, *shot of Falcon getting blasted* were, *shot of Corrine getting Warlock-Punched* Ruined!

Stevie: Oof, that's a right hard humdinger that is.

Ganondorf: *shot of Falcon getting thrown onto the Boat of Failures* In the end, it was Captain Falcon who was sent home for failing his team when they needed him the most.

Richter: Tough break Falcon.

Wario: But why the hell are they even there?! It makes no sense!

Ganondorf: *the screen returns to Ganondorf on the dock* Can the Goombas learn to trust each other? Will the Koopas learn about Peach's alliance? And who will win this week and find themselves one step closer to winning that sweet, sweet twenty million dollars!

Wario: TWENTY MILLION!?

Richter, clutching his ears: Well, there goes my eardrums.

Ganondorf: Find out this week, on Total! Drama! SMASH BROS!

Wario: I GOTTA GO!

Cloud: Go where?

Wario, jumping out the window and summoning his motorcycle: TO GET THAT TWENTY MILLION!

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

*The Campers are hanging out in the mess hall, chowing on breakfast crafted by Ridley.*

Robyn, holding up a chunk of “food” with her fork: Are we sure this is food? It seem more like something Godzilla would up-chuck if he had one too many beers.

Marth: I;m fairly certain this substances' mere existence violates the Geneva Convention several times over.

Link, chowing down: Meh. Not the worst thing I've ever eaten. *He takes another big bite as the others of his team look on in horror.* Mmh! Crunchy.

-

Confessional

Zelda: I know that Link has eaten some questionable things in his adventures, but I had no idea he had such an iron gut! It's terrifying!

-

Samus, shrugging and digging in: Eat up Koopas. Gotta get your energy up for whatever nightmare Ganondorf has planned.

Roy: Speaking of, where is that Sauron rip-off? *Roy suddenly gets smacked in the face by a Mr Saturn sending him into the wall connecting the Mess to the kitchen*

Ridley: Oi! I'm trying to work here.

Ganondorf, striding into the mess: Sorry my purple friend, but it's time for this week's challenge!

Roy: Everything... is... in pain...

Ganondorf: Move it or lose it Roy boy!

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

*Ganondorf has led the Campers to the docks where a series of boats await them. Half the boats are outfitted with Goomba red and the others are painted Koopa green.*

Ganondorf: Welcome to a little challenge I like to call... Man vs. the River Wild!

Samus: Let me guess... some sort of river rafting race with a brutal and sadistic twist to it.

Ganondorf: Eh, you're only half right. No to the rafting race, yes to the brutal and sadistic twist!

Ike: Figures.

Ganondorf: No, you're challenge is something different. *two moblins produce a large blackboard with instructions written all over it.* Ahem, as you can see, today you will be having a fishing competition!

Red: Seriously!? That's awesome! Leaf and I fish for aquatic Pokemon all the time!

Ganondorf: Today, your prize is the rare Spotted Buck-Salmon. *he holds up an example*

Lucina: Wait a minute, that just looks like a regular salmon you super-glued antlers onto!

*King K Rool, off to the side, slides a box of crappy dollar store antlers out of sight whilt whistling nonchalontly.*

Ganondorf: Regardless of their status as novelty items, you have to catch them! But be warned. These waters are filled with piranha, *Petey the Piranha Plant wearing a scuba outfit surfaces and waves at them.* sharks, *a shark pops out of the water and swallows Petey whole, grinning evilly afterward* and other unspeakable horrors from the depths that even H.P. Lovecraft would never be able to dream up! *a massive tentacle rises from the water and grabs the shark, dragging it down and causing it to spit up Petey*

-

Confessional

Link: Finally! Something I know I'm good at! I went fishing all the time in Hyrule.

-

Confessional

Ganondorf: In one of my many times trying to take over Hyrule I needed to find a way to delay Link. I tried two different strategies. First, I sent an army of undead after him, led by an Elder Lich. Secondly, I used a shovel to dig out a pit that a filled with water, stuck a “Free Fishing” sign in front of it while spreading the rumor that there was a rare fish inside.

One of those tactics bought me a whole month of time, and the other he beat in an hour.

Take a guess which one was which. Take a wild fucking guess.

-

Corrine: Okay, what's the horrible bullshit twist you've got for us this time?

Ganondorf: Aww, you know me so well.

*Corrine rolls her eyes*

Ganondorf: The twist? You can either catch the fish yourself, or wait for someone else to catch it and steal it from them!

Robyn: Wow, you're right. That IS bullshit.

Ganondorf, unperturbed: You have ten minutes to pick a partner to fish with and select which bait and tackle you'll use. Whichever team catches the biggest fish wins!

*the group splits up, partnering up with each other*

Dark Pit: Hey, dick knozzle! We've got an odd number of people! How are we gonna partner up?!

Ganondorf: Ah yes, well I guess one of your boats is going to have to hold three. *Peach immediately grabs Pit and Zelda, her hidden alliance members* Of course... those boats are only meant to hold two. Better be careful.

-

Confessional

Peach: I'll admit I'm not good at fishing. I always fail that minigame in Mario Party. But hey, Zelda and Pit both have to have some experience between them.

-

Confessional

Pit: Oh boy! My first time fishing! This is going to be so much fun!

-

Confessional

Zelda: Link took me fishing once... I caught something right away but... the poor fishy... *starting to cry* staring at me like that!

-

Peach: We'll handle it Ganondorf.

Ganondorf: Alright, whatever.

*The rest of the teams form. The Goomba Teams are: Daisy and Ike, Leaf and Red, Corrine and Rosalina, Joker and Marth, Link and Bonny Janet.

The Koopa Teams are: Zelda and Peach and Pit, Roy and Samus, Erdrick and Robyn, Lucina and Dark Pit*

Link: Hey does anyone want to trade? I'd rather not be teamed up with the Scottish Imp over here.

Bonny Janet: Blow it oot yer bagpipe!

Daisy: This could be a problem.

*Peach thinks for a moment and ten drags Zelda away to whisper in her ear*

Peach, whispering: When we're out there, I'm going to bring us up beside Link and Bonny Janet. Find a way to make tensions fly.

Zelda: I don't know Peach-

Peach: Link is the best fisher on their side! You have to, for the team.

*Zelda reluctantly nods. The teams are set! The battle begins...*

[bangtan-gal]

assistance (m)

warnings: smut, yeah, kind of crappy, daddy kink, moves quickly, odd ending??

word count: 2k

a/n: first off: thank you! second off: we hope you enjoy and this has sort of led into a part 2, which will be up next week! ~liffy

When you’d signed up for a job at BigHit, you had thought you’d be working as an assistant to one of the producers or heads, not to be on the beck n’ call of the leader of BTS 24/7. Twenty-four fucking seven, you had a special phone that was supposed to be left on overnight in case he needed you at one AM in the morning. Which turned out to be a regular thing—bringing a coffee (or two) to his studio when he got a random creative burst in the middle of the night. But as much as it had messed up your sleep schedule and practically taken away your social life, you couldn’t help but love it.

    Maybe it was because there was something so amazing in his eyes when he was writing lyrics or the way he would drag his teeth across his lip in thought. But it was mostly because of the crush you’d developed on him over the months. Sure, he was charming enough on camera, but well, he was way better in real life. His voice was deeper, his eyes were brighter, his smile was bigger, and his… fuck, his everything was just richer.  But what you hadn’t noticed was that you weren’t the only one catching feelings.

    Namjoon had you work longer hours for no reason, asked you over at night more often (had even asked you to stay the night sometimes), and had started inviting you to eat lunch with him on your break. He would let you sit on his lap while he created tracks and started asking for your advice more as time went by. You mistook it that he was just becoming more comfortable with you.

You were so oblivious that you didn’t notice the several times you left the rapper with a boner after he would let you sit on his lap. You didn’t notice the glares he sent to his teammates whenever they even tried to compliment you or became too friendly. You thought nothing of it when he asked you if you had a boyfriend or the joy on his face when you said you didn’t.

You sat in the guest room of the Namjoon’s apartment, unpacking your stuff. He had a busy week and had asked you to just stay in the apartment with him so it’d be easier for both of you. You smiled as you set your clothes neatly on the chair, a warmth blooming through you. You didn’t care if your feelings were one-sided, you would still enjoy every second you got to spend with him.

“Y/N? You ready? I need you to help me take notes for this phone call,” he said, stepping into the room. He was pulling on a t-shirt and you blushed when you saw his chiseled chest and his creamy skin underneath.

“Yes, Mr. Kim,” you said softly, following him out of the room with your journal in tow. He glanced at your over his shoulder, raising one dark eyebrow. “Sorry—Namjoon.”

He’d been very adamant about the two of you being on a first name basis. He said he hated it when the makeup artists or other assistants would call him something so formal, it made him feel old. Despite completely agreeing with that idea, you had a tendency to call him that because there was something so hot when the annoyance would flash on his face for a quick second followed by a silent demand.

The call was interesting to you, but the idol just seemed annoyed as he listened to the man drone on and on about datelines. Of course, you couldn’t blame the boy’s annoyance when the man on the phone went onto a lecture about keeping up. In the seven months you’d worked for Joon, he’d been completely on top of everything and always finished on schedule, sometimes even before.

“That was exciting,” he muttered sarcastically and then stood up, glancing at you. “Well, let’s get working, shall we?”

You followed him into his studio, glancing around slowly before sitting down on the couch. Namjoon worked in silence for fifteen minutes and while he did you worked on the schedule. Occasionally you would look up to watch him run a hand through his hair and scrunch up his nose. You couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.

“Come here baby.” Your head shot up, confusion flooding you and then you froze when you realized he was indeed talking to you. He stared at you, a small smirk on his face. You blushed and got up, slowly walking towards him. Namjoon had never used that nickname before… and it was getting in your head.

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto his lap. You were used to that, but the name was still in your mind and it was making you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. Your skin felt hot and your stomach was tightened up. He shifted you so you were only on one leg, nudging you off to the side as he continued to work.

Joon would occasionally ask you questions or read something aloud to you to see if it sounded good. You listened attentively, trying not to stare at his lips when he talked to you. He’d been quiet for the past ten minutes and you were starting to wonder if he was going to ask you anything else.

That’s when it started.

    He started to bounce the leg that you were straddling. It didn’t bother you at first and you barely noticed, but then when he sped up, you definitely noticed. It wasn’t anything new, he always bounced his leg when he got really into his work, but you normally were positioned on his lap, not on his leg. One of your hands grasped the armrest as he continued to bounce his leg. All the pressure was on your clit and you could feel it in your stomach. You bit your lip, a small mewl escaping out around.

“You okay?” He queried, resting his chin on your shoulder and glancing at you. You met his gaze out of the corner of your eye and nodded. You were okay, but you weren’t sure if you should be… shouldn’t you be against this? He’s technically your boss.

“Ah, I’m just gonna sit on the couch-”

    You tried to stand up, but the boy suddenly had a tight hold on your waist. You wiggled helplessly for a few seconds before giving up. No matter how much you wished you could, you refused to relax. You kept your back straightened, staring at the computer screen nervously.

“Hey,” he murmured, his hand moving from your waist to your thigh, drawing circles with his thumb on your inner thigh. “What’s up?”

“Please, stop,” you hissed out, trying to ignore the fact that not only was he still bouncing his leg, but his thumb was unnecessarily close to your core.

“Do you really want me to, baby?”

His voice had dropped on octave and it sent quakes through your anatomy. You gave in, shaking your head. Joon’s hand moved further up your leg, his thumb pressing against your slit through your pants. You blushed, glancing over your shoulder to meet his heated gaze.

The smirk on his face was dangerous and you knew you shouldn’t have given in, but it was too late. He had you stand up and helped you out of your pants, momentarily admiring your pink panties before he pulled those down too. He bit his lip, meeting your gaze.

You straddled his thigh again, this time facing him. A blush was obvious on your face and you found yourself unable to meet his gaze as you rested your hands on his chest. He pushed your chin up with an index finger, watching you.

“Look at me baby, I wanna see your face when you come undone.”

    You nod and then slowly start grinding back and forth, angling your body so that all the feeling is on your clit. You speed up, a whimper leaving you as your sopping pussy grinds against his pants. Pants start escaping from you and a low groan from Namjoon rocks you. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when the rapper adds his fingers to the equation, the pads rubbing along your slit as you start to grind down on them too.

    He starts to bounce his leg again and the pleasure is almost too much. You manage to hold his gaze as you bite your lip and you explode on him. He mutter something, but you’re too far off to completely pick up on it. You rest your head against his shoulder, gasping for breath.

    The man gets up and you immediately straddle his waist as he walks the two of you over to the couch. He lays you down, hovering over top of you as he undoes his belt and zipper. You lick your lips, not sure if you’re completely ready, but your hormone-addled mind doesn’t seem to care.

“Now,” he murmurs as he shucks off his boxers. “Before this happens, I want to make sure we’re on the same page—this isn’t anything, this is just casual. It might continue, but you will remain unknown to the outer world.”

Your heart drops at those words, but you nod either way. For some reason you decide you’d rather have this than completely be rejected. Plus, what could you expect? He was apart of the biggest boyband on the planet and you were his assistant—the two of you could never be anything.

“Good,” he hisses and then lines himself up.

You shiver as his head massages your slit before slowly slipping in. You groan, throwing your head back and arching your back. Fuck, he’s huge. He pushes your thighs against your stomach so he can get a better angle. He grunts and then his thrusts pick up speed. The couch creaks beneath his rapid speed and you continue to whimper as he rams into you in a relentless pace.

You let out a loud moan when he finds your g-spot and he smirks and aims for the spot again. You gasp, lights flashing in your eyes as he continues to hit the same spot over and over. Lewd noises come from the wetness between you, but you don’t even care. Your hand digs into the cushion beneath you, the other covering your mouth.

He rips your hand away from your mouth, sending a quick glare your way. You let out a squeak, trying to hold back the scream that begs to escape but it’s no use. A scream follows shortly after and you arch your back, trying to help him go even deeper. You can feel every inch of him and it’s amazing.

“Oh shit, Namjoon!” You squeak out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The knot in your stomach comes undone. He groans when you tighten around him and he holds tighter to your legs, ramming into your pussy faster to find his own bliss. He finds it moments later, his face pressing against your neck as he empties out.

    He pulls out, his cum and your juices pooling on his couch. He grimaces, but says nothing as he stands up, abruptly pulling his pants up. You stumble off the couch, struggling to stand, but force yourself to. Namjoon sighs, glancing at you and running a hand through his hair.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs.

“Okay Namjoon,” you mumble, letting him lead you. He purses his lips and then meets your gaze with a steely one.

“It’s Daddy when you and me are alone baby,” he says softly, gripping your chin tightly and staring at you. “Which is going to be almost every hour. You better sell your apartment, because you’re never going back.”

And that’s what led to you being the secret baby of Kim Namjoon.

[cursedfanficdelicateogs]

Amalgam

Word count: 4638

Ice cream isn’t exactly a priority during the apocalypse. 

Especially if you’re an amputee.

And yet at the moment, Herman’s main problem is whether or not he can fetch a second helping of banana soft serve. 

And well, if he could stop watching the Bee Movie right about now. 

“Sorry if you don’t like banana,” Dr. Salmaki said, spooning out more ice cream. “But it’s not like dairy products can last very long these days.” Laughing, she pulled out the gold flower from her hair and tucked it back in at the crease behind her ear; an odd look for a woman in her mid-60s. Even more strange was that sunflowers still existed in this world. It was small, a blossom you would drive by on a summer afternoon but never know the name of. Unfitting to the world right about now, but it blended right into her hoarding garden Herman examined with the turn of his eyes.

Shrubs, trees, vines shrouded the room like a terrarium, except this time he wasn’t looking from the outside in. He was part of the lizards or bugs, trapped, with its wild chirp lost from the sense of overwhelming security. There was no need to try and survive. 

He could sort of understand why those lizards died so quickly now. 

Then again, he wasn’t a lizard.

“Not a fan of the Bee Movie?” Dr. Salmaki asked, turning the television off. Barry and Vanessa disappeared from the boxy screen with a blink of light, their animated voices cut off with a high-pitched click. Dr. Salmaki reached for her cane and pressed the eject button on the remote control, the VHS sliding out and hitting the ground. 

He had forgotten how much he missed technology.

He shook his head, nonetheless. 

“I’m not a fan of cartoons in general, I guess,” he replied. 

“You get used to them once they are the only source of entertainment you have.” She paused. “Too literally in this case, considering it’s the only cartoon I have.” She chuckled again. 

What was so funny?

“I’m never really home, so I guessed this crappy kids’ movie would be enough if I ever had to stay here at home for more than a day. Now look at me, my television is only useful to watch some anthropomorphic bees destroy the environment.” She said, smiling. He remained quiet, not sure how to respond. 

“Not much of a talker, hm?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Herman sipped up whatever was left in his bowl. 

Melted bananas. His new favorite food. 

“There’s not much to talk about,” he replied simply. 

A pause of silence. Dr. Salmaki smiled, snickering as if he was some sort of pet. 

“Looks like you’ve got a story, though.” She remarked, tapping his one foot with her cane.

He instinctively grabbed what was left of his right thigh, a burning shot firing down his limb. 

Herman’s heart raced.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-

The pain disappeared once his fingers made contact with the leg. 

He was the butt of his body’s own sick joke. 

“Please don’t do that.” 

“Sorry.” 

Another pause of silence. 

“I used to have friends.”

Dr. Salmaki set her cane to the side. 

“I wasn’t sure what happened to them now, especially after the meteor. Perhaps they could afford government-funded panic rooms, with their suburban wealth and all. Our family could’ve been a part of the system, too, if it weren’t for me. 

Some, like my sister and I, stayed in communal panic rooms. These shelters were offered by local folk who supposedly took pity on us and our pleading parents. 

There was only enough food for two more people, so mom and dad offered to go find some more for themselves and the rest of the group.  

Fate had better places for them. 

I never contributed much to the team. I focused on sports in school, so I wasn’t as smart as the others. At least my sister could go out and scavenge. She had a pretty voice, and combine that with our dusty, out-of-tune guitar and there you go, sanity was restored for a few hours. 

It wasn’t my fault I didn't contribute anything to the group.. I couldn’t magically grow a limb back, and my body rejected the prosthetics available. But the other panic room members were generally sweet and frankly quite pitiful, sharing some of their food with me. 

Food, like clothing and medical supplies, was among some of the first materials to  run out. 

As many other groups of people during the apocalypse did, we organized a scavenging party. My sister volunteered to go, despite the fact that several people urged her not to. Probably because of me. Nonetheless, she left, humming the tune to a song I have long forgotten the title to. 

I may have not spent that much time with her than I should have, but I knew certain facts about her that others were slow to catch. One thing for sure, if she was absolutely silent, she was absolutely scared. It was unfair in a way, how she could just grow up so fast while I was stuck here, still living off of other people’s pity. Either way, it was neither of our choices to do so. 

I began wondering if it was the common fate for whoever stepped out the metal door to never come back. 

Panic grew. One left and again, never came back. Rations got smaller. I found out meetings have been pushed to nighttimes when I’m asleep. 

“They’re planning to EAT you.” A pitiful woman whispered ruefully one day. 

The metal door creaked open. I fled.

Surprisingly, no one dared to mess with me. No matter how menacing they looked, they’d just look away after glancing at my missing limb. It may be the apocalypse, but it takes a long time to just lose the pity from someone. 

The most conflict I ever got was when I encountered some sort of gang along the way. They laughed at my amputation crudely, and they threw me some food like they were feeding some birds at a park. They said they’re not heartless to the point they would kill a cripple, immediately after shooting one of their members for 'wasting ammunition’.

...They showed me how to get to a place that would offer some food and shelter for a short time. When I thought I couldn’t go any further, I just saw an old woman with a flower in her hair.” He finished his story. How he got to a place where he could eat vegan ice cream for eternity. 

“I mean, who knew that person would be some sort of apocalypse millionaire?” Herman asked, laughing emptily. 

Dr. Salmaki, after listening quietly with a couple of cynical remarks, laughed wholeheartedly. 

“I'm something, but not a millionaire.” 

She sighed, a smile lingering on her expression. 

“Well, perhaps it’s not the happiest story, but it’s one indeed,” she said. 

“I guess.”

“I don’t want to waste too much of your time, y'know, listening to me, but I used to have a grandson.” 

“What happened to him?”

“Oh, wasn’t fortunate I suppose. He contracted a disease and medication wasn’t good enough for him. Perhaps it’s my fault, I promised his parents I would take care of him and yet I was always out, investigating in the laboratory.” 

They both sighed. 

“Dr. Salmaki, I don’t want to sound rude, but maybe it’s best to keep the past in the past, you know? I mean, I used to have two legs, but it’s not like I try to remind myself of it everyday. It just... helps to think about something else. Especially when you can’t do shit to help yourself with the current problem.” 

She rested her head against the seat of the plant-occupied couch. Her green eyes lost its usual inspired twinkle, but as soon as she made eye contact it was back. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea. It's no use reminiscing!” she exclaimed, laughing wholeheartedly. 

“What should I be calling you? I just realized I’ve been eating ice cream with a complete stranger.” She asked. 

“It’s Herman. I was named after a Greek god, apparently,” he replied, shrugging.

“It’s better than Artemis. You would’ve been named after a goddess of virginity.” 

They laughed.

"I’m done with angsty talking, we're not characters in a YA novel, now. How about some music?” She asked. 

“Sure.” 

Dr. Salmaki stood up, stretching out her joints. Herman grimaced internally of how many cracking sounds her body was making. 

She walked over to the counter and from the dark, seemingly pulled out a radio and something else. She carried it back to the couch and set it between the two of them. She pulled out the disc box and took out the disc inside, handing him the box. While she was figuring out how to get the old radio to work again, he examined the empty case and its flashy writing. 

Lysa and Ellie’s Playlist for the Apocalypse

It seemed to be written on plain letter paper with markers. He flipped it over to the back, and there was what he assumed was a list of the songs in this playlist. 

Paparazzi

Perfect Illusion

Applause

Aura

Government Hooker

Paper Gangsta

Dope

Bad Romance

Telephone

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Lady Gaga, Dr. Salmaki,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not. I used to be a camp counselor for this one science camp a coupla’ years ago. It was called “Apocalyptic Science”, you probably know what it would be about based on the name. I hate prepubescents, but I was fond of these two girls, Lysa and Ellie. I dunno, they just reminded me of who I was when I was their age, maybe that’s why. Anyways, they asked me if I was a fan of Lady Gaga, and I said no. Not sure how they were able to burn a CD with explicit music at a limited technology camp, but they handed this to me on the last day as a gift.” She explained, pressing the play button. 

“What a coincidence, isn’t it?” She remarked.  

The machine whirred and clicked for a good half-minute before it finally decided to play some music. 

“We are the crowd, we’re c-coming out, got my flash on it’s true….”

He froze. 

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Salmaki asked. 

“Oh, um, it’s nothing,” he replied. 

“Your expression tells otherwise.” 

“It’s just that�� I didn’t know this was the song that my sister was humming before she left, you know? I can’t believe I’m just recognizing it right now.” 

He paused, trying to figure out how he was feeling at the moment. How could he forget? She was always talking and singing about Lady Gaga. Did he simply not care to remember her favorite songs, maybe even try to share that single interest with her? 

The two of them have been through thick and thin, and yet they barely even knew each other. 

Or was it just him who knew nothing about who she really might have been?

“I feel so dumb,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. 

Dr. Salmaki sighed. 

“It’s a feeling you get used to with time. I can’t know everything, even if emotions say otherwise,” she responded. 

“But anyway, there’s no use reminiscing. You’ve even said that yourself, didn’t you?” she confirmed, smiling. 

He let out a forced breath of laughter. He couldn’t contradict himself. 

“You’re right, there’s no point sulking about what I can’t change. Gotta enjoy the moment.” he replied. She laughed heartily. 

“That’s the spirit! Do amputees dance, or what?” she asked, lending him a hand. 

He smiled, using her hand and his crutch to stand himself up. 

“Of course.”

***

It’s been a few weeks since he’s been staying with Dr. Salmaki. He's learned that she not only does she have an indoor garden as her home, but she also owns a small farm of animals in her shed. Well, it’s more of a home for her pets, since she never uses them for food. But at this point, he has gotten used to a vegan diet, and it wasn’t like it was his position to complain anyway. 

“Hey, Herman, get over here for a sec.” Dr. Salmaki hollered from the other side of the house. He stopped his doodling and walked to where her voice came from. 

She was standing by the metal door, where her inventory was located. It was always locked for safety purposes, but he had no reason to step in there. But he respected her choice nonetheless. He wasn’t planning to build suspicion by asking about it any more than he needed to, anyway. 

“What do you want?” he asked, watching as she punched in the code for the door. 

“Remember when I said this was my inventory? Well, surprise surprise, that was a lie.” 

After opening the heavy door, she turned on the lights to reveal some sort of laboratory. 

With mixed emotions and disordered questions, he hoarsely replied, 

“...What?”

“Hey, do you want to see something cool?” 

Without even waiting for a response, she filled up an empty tank with tap water and mixed in a large amount of salt with it. She then proceeded to pluck the signature flower from her hair and drop it into the water. 

The blossom seemed to shrivel for a moment, as it sunk wistfully down to the bottom. 

As he was about to ask how this was supposed to be ‘cool’, the flower’s petals suddenly began to thicken and spread out. It had bloomed as if it was an early spring morning. 

Immediately it started to form suction cups you would only see on octopi all around itself, and soon it found its way towards the glass wall and stuck itself to it. It slithered around, the new creature's tentacles feeling around its territory. 

He watched, awestruck and but mostly disgusted. 

“It’s like a… a-”

He tried to think of the right term.

“A starfish? A squid? Close but no cigar. That’s what you get when amalgamating a Maximilian sunflower with a typical octopus,” she explained. She observed with dull eyes as if this was nothing new. 

“But how? I don’t understand how someone could just so easily do this.” he said, confused. 

“I used to be a genetic engineer. Heh, sorry lying about my profession again. But did you really think I was a BOTANIST?” she asked, chuckling softly. 

“But that still doesn’t explain how one could possibly do this. Isn’t this… I dunno, impossible?” he asked. 

“Impossible, yes. For Earth, that is.” 

“Goddamnit, that doesn’t explain anything! What are you saying, what, you’re some kind of alien?”

“Ha, I wish. We’re wasting time, Herman. Do you really want to hear this stupid story?” 

“Uh, yeah, especially now that you’re saying that we’re ‘wasting time’ for something I have zero knowledge about.” 

Dr. Salmaki sat down on one of the metal stools.

“Ugh, fine… Well, to begin, I was appointed by the government to figure out ways for people to go through the apocalypse without, ya know, dying.

We had our astronomist, botanist… pretty much the cream of the crop from each field of study. Hell, we even had a pastor. That’s how desperate the government was. We grew close, but we knew enough not to depend on each other too much. They were all intelligent people, smarter than me at least. But even the smartest people couldn’t figure out how to make the quality of living better while still remaining under budget. 

I think we gave up on what we could do with what was left of the Earth once we focused on the meteor. 

From what was concluded from the research, the meteor couldn’t have fallen ‘accidentally’ or ‘naturally’. It was either thrown by some galactic giant or was just a meteor with a very strange orbit defying all laws of physics. Both seemed pretty unlikely. The meteor was also releasing a whole new element to the environment, a substance rebelling against the laws of nature. Too bad the press barely even existed anymore, it’s a breakthrough that would’ve shocked everyone. 

We conducted all sorts of experiments with it, but with our limited resources we could only go so far until we hit another brick wall. We put safety before anything, but it’s difficult to balance security with discovery. We weren’t finding anything with lab rats. Exposing them to the meteor's element would only create some sort of gooey mutant. And we couldn’t risk losing possibly the only species alive by using something other than our abundant rats. No one wanted to die, either, despite their half-baked statements of sacrifice for the greater good.

The greater good only sounds sweet if it doesn’t involve yourself, after all. 

I think at one point the government got tired of our shindigs and complaints, so they decided to cut whatever rat’s tail funding and resources that went to us. As if the world is gonna repair itself. 

After packing up whatever I brought to the laboratory, I decided to stop and talk to the pastor who for whatever reason stayed with us until the end. 

“Why didn’t you just leave?” I asked. 

“Who am I to go against God’s will?” He asked back, calm despite the uneasy silence. 

“So it’s god’s will to set you in some safety net with guaranteed food and rest? While everyone else is suffering out there, scrambling and murdering each other for a morsel of food? Got it.”  

He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not a fan of Jesus, I assume?” 

“I mean, do you think I’m in this field just to worship some entity I have no knowledge or proof of its existence?” 

“It’s the whole point of faith. It’s the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” 

“Well, assurance from some outdated book isn’t enough for me. I need concrete proof, a hypothesis I’m 99 percent certain would be correct. I suppose that’s why religious people don’t make sense. You see them do ridiculous acts like bombing a village or flying into provenly dangerous lands all in the name of their gods.” 

“Precisely. Some perform dangerous crimes or actions, blinded by faith. But we are all blind in a way, since we are all sinners. What differentiates us is what leads us through that darkness and where we go because of it.” He explained. He walked into his room and came back with some sort of yellow flower in a plastic cup.

“That’s a Maximilian sunflower. How did you manage to grow it?” I asked, holding it by the makeshift pot. 

“I’ll be honest, it got a little boring to just watch everyone continue with their studies. You can keep it.” He responded. 

“I mean, thanks, but why?” 

“The sunflower symbolizes loyalty. They’re always facing the sun, even though ffor humans the sun is too bright to the point it blinds them. I feel like that was how loyal you are to science and your field. I admire it, how you proceed step-by-step to make sure the experiment is safe for all.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“I may be passionate, but it’s not like I’m brilliant. I mean, if you’ look back you can obviously see that we haven’t seen any benefits to the new element, despite our efforts.” 

“True. So perhaps it’s time to take a leap of faith. You all have been so caught up in the hypothetical dangers of it up to this point.” He said, walking towards the door. 

“Whatever your choice may be, I have faith in you.” the pastor said, and left the laboratory. 

I looked back at the unused specimen, stored in their glass cages, tanks, or whatever environment they needed to be kept in for basic survival.

Government workers were going to come in tomorrow to clean and take everything that belonged to them. 

Quickly, I took everything that I could carry in my car. The sun has already set, and I needed to hurry if I had to make a second trip. 

It was time to make a leap of faith.” 

Dr. Salmaki finished her story. 

“And look where that leap of faith took me,” she said, pushing the curtain away and turning on the lights to the opposite side of the laboratory.

All this time, Dr. Salmaki has been hiding a plethora of animals and organisms, several of which Herman had never even seen before. 

“The meteor’s element, when used correctly, seems to have the power to amalgamate one organism with another. Strangely, it knows what traits to keep and what to throw away. It knows what characteristics have helped each organism survive in its habitat.” she explained. She walked to one glass tank and motioned him to follow. 

Inside was an egg, its shell resembling a tortoise’s.

“Of course, I’ve had failed experiments that didn’t lead me anywhere. But it just helps me learn what not to do, I suppose.” 

It seemed to crack and split open, only to reveal its exact same form. 

“An amalgamation of an unhatched chicken egg and a tortoise. This is its entire form. A shame, ain’t it? Well, it does what it does to survive, I suppose.” She said, soon dragging me to another glass crate. It seemed to be a regular hamster, except with the face of a pig. 

He grimaced. A pig’s snout just didn’t belong on a hamster. 

“The hamster’s food pouches helps it conserve food for an amount of time, and its snout can easily find food in its habitat. The tusks can help fend off predators, and its small size is helpful when escaping them. The swine’s social side and the hamster’s independent side seems to coexist. I’d consider this new species an ambivert, y’know, whatever that means to you..” She explained. 

“The most contrasting the two amalgamating organisms are, the better. Look at the egg and the tortoise, they both shield themselves with thick shells to survive. And they would. But they wouldn’t last long. Natural selection would take the best of them, considering their lack to reproduce. At least that’s what I hypothesize.” she added. She led him into another room, its door hidden behind a pillar made of amalgamations tanks stacked against each other. 

If Dr. Salmaki’s living space was overshadowed by plants, then her true laboratory was overrun by wires. 

“Don’t electrocute yourself,” she remarked jokingly. It didn’t help with his growing panic at all. He fumbled over the hazardous thicket while she weaved her way through the web she had somehow made. 

Approximately a third of the room was blocked off with glass on the opposite side. It was the only area he’s ever seen in this house empty, with the exception of a couple of unfamiliar machinery here and there. 

She sat down on an office chair, its leather wearing down into stripes of black and exposed cotton. Behind it was a long desk, just as discorded as the floors and walls. 

“Jesus Christ, Do you ever clean up, like at all?” he snapped out of anxiety. She shrugged. 

“It only wastes time from what’s really important,” she replied nonchalantly. 

With a simple hit of a button on her computer, the glass slowly began to swing open. 

“The glass worked as a divider between me and the two organisms, so I wouldn’t get amalgamated with them. But I suppose we don’t need it now, do we?” She asked, chuckling softly. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Think for yourself.” 

He took a brief moment to collect his thoughts to bring a conclusion. But what he came up with didn’t make sense at all. 

“You’re going to… amalgamate yourself with me?” he asked carefully, hoping for a correction. 

She nodded, unable to hide her smile.   

Questions flooded Herman’s mind, yet at the same time he didn’t want to know anything.

“At first glance you might be the last person anyone would ever want to combine themselves with. No offense, by the way.” 

Herman was too baffled to be insulted. 

Dr. Salmaki stood up and marched right over to the one-legged boy. She seemed to take his silence as a ‘“none taken”’, as she continued on. 

“My grandson died from a common cold, Herman.” She said, a bitter undertone lying hidden from her nonchalant fashion. 

“It doesn’t make any sense how you could survive for this long. There’s something special about you, something DIFFERENT from all the others.” 

He tried to think of a solid reason as to convince her not to do this, to just go along with their lives as they had before. He could forever be under her command, a silent servant paid with unstable mercy. Or he could be her new grandson, immediately, almost forcefully adopted into a madhouse family. Either way, it would be difficult going back to his golden peak of the apocalypse. His golden peak ever in his life. He thought Dr. Salmaki was the person that finally understood him. 

“You’re being irrational.” He finally argued. 

With her signature cane, Dr. Salmaki struck Herman’s right foot. Without his own physical support system, he fell right into the rubbery nest of wires tangled across the floor. 

The mad scientist pulled down a lever, a periwinkle gas escaping from the vents once contained beyond the glass door. 

She crouched next to the amputee, taking his hand and holding it firmly as if silently saying goodbye. 

“There is no rationality in faith.” 

The gas, after slowly travelling across unfamiliar territory, finally reached the two human figures. 

Swoosh.

---

Swoosh.

Wind flies through the ever expanding gaps in my body. 

It’s chilling.

It would take more than a billion years for Earth to reset if humans were wiped out from the planet.  

Not to boast, but it only took me seven years. 

A tedious period of time, yes, but in the end I’ve got the job done. Who knew a monster born in a messy, purple clogged laboratory would be so beneficial to life?

And all it took was a meteor. 

To be honest, humanity was doomed. Even if Earth had gone back to its Garden of Eden, there would be no way people could live in harmony, whether that would be between nature, extraterrestrials, or themselves. What would be the point of moving to another life-sustaining planet, if all humans would do is turn it into a self-obsessed cacophony? A human is a toxic cycle with no end, spiraling to their own demise. 

That’s why their new home is not earth, mars, or any other undeserving planet, but my mind. They live in an imaginary world, an exact replica of a world without the meteor strike, minus the memories of the horrifying apocalypse. 

It’s not fun. Their little society is an infection. 

Somehow, I can amalgamate with anything and everything, even without the element extracted from the meteor. Except my physical body tries to reject anything and everything I try to amalgamate with. So whatever the amalgamation may be is temporary, until I’ve had enough of it and eject it out of myself, turning whatever organism that was once part of me into lifeless waste. Quite literally. The first human I ever tried to amalgamate with was spit out as some sort of foul and nasty slush. 

I’ve learned to take better control of when that happens. 

That’s why this time, the purge of this once major amalgamation is all controlled and consented by yours truly. 

Lucky for them, this isn’t going to be a complete wipe out of humanity. 

Just a ‘natural disaster’ so that, for now, the amalgamation would be a bit more bearable. I’ve envisioned it several times. A meteor would fall to earth. Everyone except a small minority dies either directly or indirectly. 

Society is in crumbles, and society is quiet for once. 

And so I do it. I close my eyes, focus on the little Earth I’ve created, and send out a lonesome shooting star toward them. 

A horrible discord rings, pulsates through my mind and through the tips of my limbs, and it stops after a few seconds. 

I open my eyes, stand up, and walk over to the hoarding garden I call my home. I pluck a couple of bananas, prepare and blend them, and put them in the freezer for a familiar dessert. 

Ice cream isn’t exactly a priority when you have destroyed society. 

Especially if you are, quite literally, one of a kind. 

[spideyjlaw]

My Avengers Endgame World Premiere experience

this is really long, lota rambling feel free to read skim anything idc, no spoilers bc this was on Monday before I saw the movie :) 

Ok Ima start Saturday night, this is when I was packing making and painting my posters that said “Thank You Avengers”, I live in California so I didn’t have to fly to this event. At 12am we (my family) we arrive in Los Angeles around 5am. At this time I thought that the premiere was going to be at El Capitan Theatre where it was originally supposed to be. We drive by the theater and we see no one is in line which was weird bc normally there would be people here already so i search and find the location which was switched last min (smh) the drive to the next location wasnt too long but at least i knew i was at the right location bc of the small group of fans and the giant poster that said Avengers Endgame World Premiere. Apparently they changed the location bc they needed a larger screening room and they didnt want tons of fans showing up, there were these girls that were waiting at the El Capitan for 2 hours before they realized something was up. Anyway, we get in line. People who were in charge told the people who stayed over night to go home bc there wasnt going to be a fan area. No one left ofc who would hell no. Then some people went on twitter to talk about it made signs it was confusing but we ended up in a fan area after going through security. We got into the fan area at 12 ish and we had to stand there for another 4 and a half hours before anything exciting happens. Now its around 4pm people are starting to arrive. (THIS IS WHEN THE ACTION STARTS) Benedict Wong then Joe Russo. Not many came all the way down the line, I was the last one on the line before it wrapped around the corner. But I did want to get barricade and able to see action so Im grateful for my spot. Then Anthony Mackie arrives he’s walking to end of the fan area around the small corner but as hes walking right as he gets near me i scream at the top of my lungs, he stops right in front of me and i go “AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!ANTHONYYYYY MACKiE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!” he looks at me biggest smile. We had a whole moment together its hard to explain its kinda like a ‘you had to be there moment’ i was the longest person probably a good 20 seconds (which is a long ass time in these times when they are in a rush) he was at and while im screaming and fangirling he air grabs my head to fucking sign my forehead i closed my eyes and accepted it he didnt do it ofc but he was just a fun guy i love him soooo much he signs my posters while saying “There’s no black guy on here” (i did an original 6 themed avengers poster) but he signed than signed my bosslogic poster which he was in. paul rudd comes by hes just a rocking dude i love scott lang sm, he was so sweets v cool guys sm love for him. Then at around 5pm Chris freaking Hemsworth arrives I loose my shit and so does everyone else. Just like Joe, Benedict Wong & Anthony he also went around the corner to make sure they got all of the fans (thank u to all who did this). Ive loved Hemsie for the longest time, i did get teary eyed but i didnt cry (yet) he was just the sweetest I was able to take a crappy photo with him bc i wasnt able to function properly as i took the pic my dumbass was like “iLOvEyoUsOmUCh” its oka cause he has the cutest smile and the bluest eyes oh and i cant stress enough he smelled so good sooooo good normally i hate when guys coat themselves in cologne cause it smells bad, but his didnt, his smelled so good i was so shook like chris drop what cologne u used idc its for guys mama neeeddds. THEN IT hAPPENEd CHRISTOPHER ROBERT EVANS DRIVES BY. Everyone was like “omg is that chris evans?!”  I stand on the barricade to see if i can catch a peak, istg the moment the fucking moment he gets out the car i start to bawl my eyes out. This man who has meant more to me than anyone is over there i couldnt believe i was seeing my favorite human ever. I’ve only sobbed right as i saw my fave once before back in 2016 at the Passengers premiere when I met Jennifer Lawrence. People dont really understand the moment like this person has inspired me so much of course im going to cry and sure judge me for it but they helped me through so much. Anyway he looked soo hot in his blue suit and sunglasses. I kinda calm down bc i didnt know if he was going to come all the way down the line and yk my ass wanted a pic but he was cut half way though the people which was upsetting but again im extremely grateful to be able to see him. Then my main fucking man. Sebastian Stan arrives. see ive met the guy before last year at ace comic con (there was tea w my photo op being really messy and i hated it i got a refund u can read about that on my ace comic con post). anyway i see him. i dont cry im trying to wipe my tears i was more prepared cause ive seen him before it was gonna be ok. I lose my shit the man was wearing a baby blue pastel colored suit. fucking beautiful. iconic. very hot of you mr seb ty. hes walking down and hes getting close. he wasnt to smiley, he was taking pics but he was focused on the fans signing for as many fans as possible. He gets to me and he sees our pics then he looks u so we could take a pic and his smile just transforms you can just see his face just glow up it was the truly the cutest this ive ever experience. then we look up from the pic and hes smiling at me i tell him “I love you so much” i hear him chuckle but as he says something his security guy yells “thank you that enough” so ill be posting the vid of us and any lip readers can help a girl out ill love you forever. I ended up being Sebs last person from the fan area. he truly made my day, week fucking year. then other celebs such as jon favreau, benedict cumberbatch comes by. Jeremy Renner comes by. I shoot my shot and make small talk w Jeremy. I go “Hi Jermey how’s your day going?” he goes “I’m doing really good, how bout you?” he signs my things i excitingly tell him “I’m doing great thank you” then he goes��“Thank you honey” and smiles at me. It made me really happy, i could tell he was a bit tired but Jeremy is such a sweetheart he doesnt get the credit he deserves i love him sm, ive always has a little part of my heart for Hawkeye. minutes go by. I see Lizzie Olsen, Danai Gurira, beautiful ofc. then i see fucking Mark Ruffalo hes just standing behind one of the SUVs and the sun is on him. He looked like a confused puppy it was so cute and soft, i love my ruffalo buffalo. I took my moment to scream “iS THat MARK ruFFALO?” i dont think he signed for many fans. Scarjo arrives she doesnt sign for many either she looked beautiful v pretty. a little while passes than the most bitching car comes by and stops where the cars stop until the drop off area clears and they can go. we all knew who ever was in that car he was important. then it was his time to go cause the drop off area was cleared. guess who was in the drivers seat. You guessed right. Robert Downey Jr rolling up in an Audi E-TRON, with his wife Susan Downey in the passenger seat. Truly the Tony Stark entrance. he doesnt sign for many ofc. at this time it was getting later near 6pm almost all celebs and guests are inside where the actual premiere set up is. then Vin Diesel comes in. He was the most fan based guy. even though he was running late he ran (literally speed walking) through the whole line of fans around the corner and everything. he had the biggest smile on. wearing his groot jacket. and if u dont know fast and furious are one of my fave franchises of all time so i was having the best time. then that was the last person and we started heading out. i didnt name all who ive seen since there was just to many and i probably missed some things but i loved my experience. i was able to see all the original avengers irl and that made me really happy. this whole cast means the world to me. ill love them forever 

[peterpcrkcr]

Can I request a Peter blurb when you have a movie night with Michelle Betty and Ned and you to are the only two awake so you sneak off to kiss each other because you haven’t told anyone that you guys are dating and Ned walks in 🇦🇺

what’s up new zealand (edit! The star below the dodad means Australia!)? fluff below the cut!

The movie was some Netflix original and it was a thriller but the specifics didn’t really matter because all night it was about you and Peter holding hands under the big blanket you sat under with Ned. Michelle sat across a chair in her own special was, claiming it all to herself. Betty sat on the floor on a big comforter, surrounded by the decorative pillows that had been on the couch. 

“This movie isn’t very thrilling.” Betty said as she laid down across the pillows and blanket, yawning.

“I don’t think the point is that we like it or not. These originals are just a way for Netflix to spend less money buying movies and shows from other production companies.” Michelle said as she popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth. Ned nodded.

Peter glanced at you with a rosy hue over his cheeks, looked at you through his eyelashes. You grinned, closed your eyes as you looked away. It was very clear what had been on your minds.

“I’m really about to be asleep.” Ned said, yawning through the entire sentence. “I’m probably sleeping right now.”

“May said it’s okay if everybody crashes here tonight.” Peter said, squeezing your hand. His sentence fell onto mostly deaf ears. Ned and Betty were asleep, Michelle was holding onto the last lines of consciousness as she set the bowl of popcorn down on the ground by Betty’s head.

When all that was left were light breathing sounds and a quiet plot playing out on the screen, and Peter was left to deal with this feeling in his stomach that if you weren’t in his arms very very soon he might spaz out. He shot you that look again, but this time with a question mark attached to it. You nodded and watched as he stood slowly from the couch, so as not to arouse Ned’s snoring attention.

He held out a hand to help you to stand, and you held in your absolute joy as he lead you into the hallway toward the bedrooms of the apartment. 

You pressed your back against the wall of the hallway opposite Peter, your hands held together between the two of you. Ned snored from the other room making the two of you laugh.

“I love your laugh.” Peter said bravely. You raised an eyebrow.

“What else do you love?” You whispered across the mile long hallway. He leaned his head back against the wall to reveal his beautiful, lengthy neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a thought. When his eyes fell back onto you, you straightened your shoulders and tilted your head in wonder.

“I love the way you light up every room.” He said standing a little straighter, too.

“What else?” You said with a little voice behind the question. You pried yourself away from the wall, leaned forward into a small step.

“I love the way you tease me, even in front of all of our friends.” He said, making you laugh. He opened his mouth in a big smile, with a big breath in and a sigh. “That laugh...”

“What else?” You said as he made his way across the world inch by inch to stand in front of you. There were no many lightyears to travel for this space cadet. You words fell onto his lips, hot and breathy. He licked his lips quickly, softly.

“This-” he said, using his free hand to pull you in by your waist. 

His action made your stomach lurch in the best way possible. It felt like you began to float when he pressed his lips against yours. He was so gentle, but wanting. Needy. You let his hand go to fully delve your fingers into the fluffy curls atop his head. He wrapped his arms around your back to bring you flush against his body. Tender lips spoke sweet soliloquies into the blackened night. There was no more sounds of snoring or basic plot lines. This was the climax of the story of the night, and each breath and gasp and touch was a new revelation.

The hallway practically steamed with the yearning of two teens enveloped with puppy love, until someone cleared their throat.

When you pulled away from Peter his lips were still puckered, his hair was a mess. Your skin had the brightest and most terribly obvious blush over it that no amount of exhaustion was going to hide it from Ned.

You both stood there in the hallway, miles apart, waiting for the verdict.

“So where you guys going to tell me about this or was I always going to just have to catch you in the act?” Ned said, sleep underlining his words.

“Oh my god...” You said under your breath, trying to hold in a laugh. Peter looked like he was about to burst, too. 

“Ned, I-” Peter laughed. “I can explain!”

There would be no explaining because you both were so embarrassed by being caught that you double over in laughter. It essentially rocked the apartment, you sounded like wild hyenas. You stepped across the hall to set your hands on Peter’s shoulders to stabilize yourself. Ned looked unimpressed until Michelle and Betty walked into the little hallway behind him.

“What’s going on?” Betty asked with her arms crossed.

“I caught Peter and (y/n) making out back here.” He said in the flattest tone ever, making the two of you laugh harder.

“Called it.” Michelle said eating some more popcorn with a hand extended toward Betty who rolled her eyes while she placed a five dollar bill into it. “Thank you.”

This made Peter stop laughing, and you too.

“Wait, you guys were making bets about this?” Peter asked.

“Yeah.” Michelle said tucking the five bucks into her pocket, then returning her hand to the open position.

“Of course.” Ned said with a shrug as Betty handed him five dollars too.

“What was the bet?” You asked dropping one hand from Peter’s shoulder.

“I bet Michelle and Betty that by the end of the night you two would prove that you were a couple.” Ned said.

“I didn’t believe it.” Betty said putting her hand in her pocket to look for something else.

“And I bet that one of us would catch you guys making out.” Michelle said as Betty and Ned put five dollars each into her hand. “Thank you.”

“Can’t believe our best friends would bet on my love-life!” Peter said, mock upset.

“Flash was in on it, too.” Betty said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket to send off a text. She laughed. “He owes all of us 10 dollars now.”

“What did he bet?” You asked.

“He bet that Peter would try to ask you out tonight and you’d totally reject him, in his words.” Ned said with finger quotes.

“At least he’s coming out a loser in all of this.” Peter said, making you grin.

“Can we all go back in there and finish the crappy movie, now and leave these two to their make-out session?” Michelle said, once again being the real MVP of every situation.

“Yes please!” Betty said leaving the hallway first, followed by Michelle. 

Before Ned left him and Peter did their signature handshake in celebration. You shook your head at the thought of Peter later sharing the details of all of it with Ned, but then laughed at yourself. You’d be telling Michelle and Betty everything, too. 

When Ned left the hallway Peter looked to you and raised an eyebrow.

“So...?” He asked, but he wasn’t committed to the proposal. Instead you two began to laugh again. 

Betty, Ned, and Michelle watched the rest of the terrible movie in the living room, listening to the two of you laugh with smiles on most of their faces. 

[mst3kproject]

The Choppers

It’s teenage crime spree time!  With Arch Hall Sr. writing and producing, Arch Hall Jr. starring, and Bruno VeSoto supporting, the result is sure to be MST3K-worthy. All it’s missing is Ray Dennis Steckler, but I guess one can’t have everything.

America’s youth is its greatest resource, and those youth are in danger of growing up into criminals.  Witness our antagonists here: Cruiser, Torch, Ben, Flip, and Snooper. They drive around in a truck full of chickens, taking apart random cars and selling the pieces to Moose, a grouchy and unscrupulous junkyard owner.  The cops are baffled, but sooner or later the young thugs are bound to make a fatal mistake – and theirs comes when they girl they decide to sexually harass turns out to be the secretary of an insurance investigator.  At around the same time, Moose gets tired of their attitude and decides to turn them in.  Looks like the Choppers have chopped their last, uh… chop, I guess.

I’m sure you all want to know whether Arch Hall Jr. sings in this movie.  He does, but not until forty-five minutes in when I really had begun to hope I’d escaped him.  The piece is actually kind of catchy although not particularly memorable, but I may be in a forgiving mood because the first musical number in the movie was so much worse.  It’s performed by an elderly guy who works at Moose’s junkyard, and not only is he a bad singer, but what starts out sounding like a boy scout campfire ditty turns out to be a mournful country song about his divorce.  It made me long for the comparatively sweet strains of I Love You Vickie.

The photography here is notably terrible.  Almost the entire movie takes place outdoors in harsh desert sunshine because I think they didn’t actually have any lights.  Indoor scenes are kind of dim and night scenes are completely indecipherable – although I think somebody didn’t believe a practically pitch-black screen was enough to convince us it was night, because there are also lots of loud cricket noises.  There’s a bit where the Choppers vandalize a guy’s car because he took their parking spot and it’s almost impossible to see anyone’s faces or tell who’s talking.

The acting is sort of indifferently bad. Arch Hall Jr. is Arch Hall Jr., where everything he says sounds kind of stagey and dumb, and nobody else is much better.  The twenty-somethings playing the young criminals use hip slang in a way that suggests they have no idea what these words actually mean.  Arch Hall Sr. continues to believe he can build his son into a teen heartthrob, and so he shows us things like Cruiser’s pasty chest and belly as he lounges by a pool.

You say you didn’t need that screencap? Well, I didn’t need the shot it came from.

Most of the screen time in the movie is spent on the Choppers as they take apart cars, play or listen to bad music, argue with each other, and harass women.  The supposed heroes aren’t on screen nearly so much, but that’s okay because they are stunningly un-likeable.  There are a couple of bland cops, but the ones who are really our protagonists are inept insurance investigator Tom Hart and his nagging girlfriend Liz.  Tom comes across as an oblivious dope, while Liz constantly whines that she’s tired of fighting crime and wants to go home and eat.

Tom never redeems himself, but Liz gets a couple of moments.  She’s the one who notices that feathers keep turning up at the crime scenes, and when she recognizes Cruiser’s car at a drive-in she is able to keep him staring at her boobs long enough for her to memorize the license plate number. Naturally at the climax, she is not present and Tom, who did pretty much nothing all movie, gets all the credit for catching the gang.  The movie doesn’t make anything out of this because it doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

Which of course brings us to the fact that The Choppers hates women something fierce. There are only two we can actually be said to meet: Cruiser’s empty-headed girlfriend Gypsy (I know a bot who would be righteously angry at this name choice) is there to hang around in a bathing suit and be dumb.  The movie can’t decide how much she does or doesn’t know about his criminal hobbies – she seems to help vandalize the car in the parking lot, but then becomes the damsel in distress at the final shootout.  Liz nags, mocks, and generally treats Tom terribly, and at the end her competence is treated as his accomplishment.

Several of the five boys have backstories that depend on absent fathers – Cruiser’s was killed in WWII, Torch’s is an alcoholic, and Snooper has had a series of uninterested stepfathers.  The implication is that a single mother cannot possibly raise a boy.  He needs a father to turn him into a man (this is as near as stated aloud when a reporter attempts to interview Torch’s drunken father on the radio).  The only moment involving a woman that doesn’t reek of misogyny is when the boys harass a waitress and she blows them off.

If we’re gonna talk about fathers and sons… this is another movie Arch Hall Sr. made to try to build up his son’s career, and another movie in which the two of them are at odds.  They never actually meet in The Choppers, but the reporter played by Hall Sr. comments on how intelligent and talented the boys are and how much they could have accomplished if they’d only had the chance to live up to their potential.  Once again, it’s really, really tempting to try to do some psychoanalysis here, as if Arch Hall Sr. was using his films to tell the world how disappointed he was with his son.  I don’t know these people, of course, but that’s definitely the impression I get.

The main theme in The Choppers is one I’ve already dealt with, the idea that a boy without a father will become a criminal, stuck forever in the stage of life where rule-breaking is fun and consequences are things that happen to other people.  There seems to be a level on which the boys have adopted Moose as a sort of substitute father – he has encouraged and taught them in their criminal endeavours, and while he and they argue and threaten each other, they are honestly shocked by his eventual betrayal.  In the end, Moose abandons them just as their biological fathers have done.

There also seems to be some attempt to talk about class. All the Choppers seem to come from underprivileged backgrounds except for Cruiser, who has a backyard pool and a fancy car.  This puts him in the same category as Paula from The Violent Years, in that we’re given no good reason why he does this besides what his says to the reporter at the end: “we had a ball.”  Like Paula, Cruiser is the leader of the gang, but unlike her, he does not participate in the actual crimes.  Instead, Cruiser and his fancy car serve as lookouts – his upper-class origin allows him to be in charge without having to get his hands dirty, and there are signs that the rest of the boys resent this.  When they are all cornered at the end, it’s Cruiser who suggests giving up while Torch prefers to go down fighting.  Unlike the others, he’s not sufficiently invested in this to die for it.

What the movie is trying to say here is that money is not a substitute for good parenting, and privileged boys can still fall into crime if their fathers aren’t there for them.  What it manages to imply is that even in crime being rich gives you a head start and can make you a leader regardless of actual leadership qualities.

So this movie is really, really bad, and doesn’t deal very well with its thematic material – but that’s not to say there’s no entertainment value to be found here.  It’s never funny when it tries to be, of course. There’s an attempt at a running joke with Snooper wondering if he’d be more attractive to women if he wore contact lenses, which will make you shudder if you know what contact lenses were like in the 50’s and early 60’s.  The humour that works in The Choppers is naturally the unintentional kind, to be found in the bad acting and the unwieldy chicken truck.

My favourite moment is when Cruiser, talking on a candy-striped walkie-talkie the size of a dachshund, tells his cronies to give the police “the farmer routine”.  Flip and Snooper immediately pull a couple of cowboy hats out of fucking nowhere and put them on, and I almost did a real-life spit take.  This feels like the kind of thing that would have fascinated the Best Brains.  I can imagine Joel, Crow, and Tom whipping their own Stetsons out from under the theatre seats to wear for the rest of the scene (Servo would have needed help with his) and every subsequent appearance of a cop being greeted with, “quick, put on your cowboy hats!”  It would definitely be the stinger.

Talking about having a favourite Arch Hall Jr. movie is like talking about having a favourite kind of turd to eat, but insofar as the statement means anything, The Choppers is my second-favourite of his movies I’ve seen so far.  It’s less misogynistic than Eegah! (not a high bar) and doesn’t have nearly as much crappy music as Wild Guitar (accomplished by simply having less music).  My favourite Arch Hall Jr. movie is The Sadist, which I actually don’t consider bad enough for this blog.  In The Sadist Hall Jr. played a serial killer, and he was pretty terrifying.  If he’d had more roles like that (with directors who were not his father and could actually coach good performances out of him) he might have been a decent character actor.

[silverfootstepswrites]

Equinox: Summer [2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (here) | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Sakura opened her eyes in the morning. She felt almost as miserable as if she’d had 10 shots of tequila the night before. Rolling onto her side, she realized that she wasn’t in bed. She was on the sofa.

Tobirama sat at the kitchen island, his back to her. The smell of coffee lingered in the air. He was shirtless. She could see the rune tattoo on his back, just between his shoulder blades. She realized that his headphones were over his ears. So he didn’t turn toward her when she finally sat up and stretched her arms over her head.

She had an impulse. And she decided to give in. So when she got to her feet, she paused just behind Tobirama. She gave the top of his head a quick peck before she moved around him to pour herself a cup of coffee. He looked up at her, touching his hair with his fingers. He pulled the headphones down, letting them rest around his neck.

“Morning,” she greeted him.

“I thought we said....” Tobirama trailed off.

“Yeah. Guess I just have crappy memory,” she replied with a shrug. And then she peeked over her shoulder at him.

Tobirama stared at her, hair uncombed and falling across his forehead. Expression just a little dumbfounded. When she smiled, he did too. He bit his lower lip as he looked away.

They got breakfast at a little hole in the wall. There were two seats open on the terrace. The croissants were still warm as Sakura broke one in half. Swollen eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, she took big bites.

The coffee was excellent. The couple bites of Tobirama’s food that she stole were good too.

The main agenda for flying halfway across the world was to speak to Sakura’s mother. And while that hadn’t exactly gone well, at least it had happened. With the most pressing thing out of the way, they spent the day exploring the island.

It wasn’t Tobirama’s first time in Ibiza. He had been in Barcelona a couple months ago. So naturally, he had been dragged to this nearby island to visit its famous nightclubs. But he hadn’t had a chance to visit anywhere else really. And though it had been several years, Sakura still remembered the sights and best restaurants fairly well.

They rented a scooter. And even though they both knew she was the better driver, she let him drive. Arms wrapping around his waist, her cheek against his back. Sea air whipping through their hair as they followed the winding streets.

Tobirama received a phone call late in the afternoon. He held it up to his ear as they lounged on the beach, feet buried in the sand. Sakura rested her chin on his shoulder as she eavesdropped. It was Shizune. She wrinkled her nose as she slid away from him.

But when he checked his watch, Sakura waved her hand at him.

“She said dinner...”

“Relax. They run on island time. They’ll be late,” Sakura assured him. She stretched back out on the towel, covering her face with her straw hat. 

They dozed on the beach a while longer, until the sun was about to set. Only then did they reluctantly rouse from the warm spots on the towels, sand trickling off their bodies. Their shoes dangled from the tips of their fingers as they trekked up to where they had parked the scooter.

By the time the guests arrived, it was completely dark outside. Sakura had showered and changed clothes. She sat in the living room, feet up on the coffee table as she fiddled with her laptop. 

“Can I listen?” Tobirama asked as he approached from behind. He rubbed his hair with a towel as he craned his neck to look at her screen. The colored lines running across the page looked promising. Especially the way the lines for drums swooped up and down.

Sakura patted the open spot on the sofa beside her.

Hamura and Hagoromo arrived later with bags of takeout. Shizune carried bottles of wine under each arm. 

They sat around the coffee table, chattering as they distributed food and poured drinks. And even though all of them had different hair colors, there was something that made it obvious that they were siblings. Something beyond the usual beauty that came with their portion of siren charm. Maybe it was the way they smiled, or the way they laughed. 

Hamura sat on the couch with a groan. 

“Old man,” snorted Hagoromo, earning a soft kick in the back. 

“So, you probably have questions,” Shizune said, turning to Tobirama. 

Beside him, Sakura drained her glass of wine. She reached over to slide his glass from his hand to drink that too. He didn’t resist, just moving his arm to rest on the seat of the sofa behind her. 

“Open another one,” whispered Hamura. Hagoromo got to his feet to head to the kitchen.

“It’s easy,” Sakura interrupted. She gestured to each of her siblings with the glass. 

“Biggest bro,” she began. Hamura waved. 

“Big sister,” Sakura went on, then indicating Shizune, who nodded.

“And then other big brother,” Sakura concluded, jerking her chin in the direction of the kitchen. 

She touched her chest with the wine glass. “There’s me. Three little ones after that.”

“Four now,” Shizune corrected. 

“Yeah. So that’s eight of us...that we know of,” snorted Sakura before she took a gulp of wine.  Hagoromo returned with two more bottles of wine and reclaimed his seat.

“....Sakura,” Hamura began in a tone of reproach. But then he shook his head, like he was waving away the thought. He rested his elbow on his knee instead. 

“You look good, kiddo. I had nightmares of you living on the streets,” he remarked instead. And Sakura rolled her eyes.

“Ew. You sound like her,” she retorted. And Hagoromo snickered at that, elbowing his brother’s leg. 

They moved on to more mundane topics as they ate dinner. The container lids opened to reveal cured meats and fluffy eggs. There were crisp potatoes sprinkled with herbs. And the smells of all the foods melted together into a beautiful melange.  

But even once the food was gone, the wine kept flowing. And that made it easy to talk. Sakura still sat on the floor, her knees hugged to her chest. 

“So, you’ve seen our nest. Where are you from, Tobirama?” asked Hamura.

And that drew Sakura’s curiosity. Because that was just as much a mystery to her as it was to her siblings. He was just Tobirama. She had never imagined his childhood. He had probably been born wearing a leather jacket. She had never thought to ask him anything like that.

“I was born and raised in Empire City. I tried moving to the west coast for a few years, but it wasn’t a good fit,” answered Tobirama.

“LA?” asked Hagoromo.

“Malibu.” Tobirama’s lips thinned. Sakura smirked.

“Let me guess. Did they try to engage you in small talk?” she teased.

“About the weather,” he grumbled.

“Those psychos,” Sakura replied with mock-outrage. 

Shizune mashed her lips together. She raised her glass to her mouth, but not before she shared a pointed look with her brothers.

They stayed late. People in the area seemed to be good at that. Lingering. Just enjoying the moments, never in a rush to get anywhere. Even this late at night, the streets were busy with people still enjoying dinner and drinks. 

But eventually, Hagoromo glanced at his watch and announced that he had work in the morning. Everyone got to their feet, clearing the bottles and plates off the table. As Hamura rolled up his sleeves, Shizune pulled Sakura to the side. 

Sakura had always loved her sister the most out of their siblings. Maybe it was the 20-year age gap, but Shizune had always felt more like a mother than their own mother had. So she half-expected Shizune to make some sort of remark about Tobirama or about her outfit or the piercings in her ears. Because she had always been a worrywart. 

Instead, Shizune pressed something into Sakura’s palm. 

“Mom forgot to tell you. You’ll need one of these. Any crystal will do, actually. But still...” Shizune whispered. 

Sakura glanced down. In her hand rested a shard of lapis lazuli. It was a couple inches long. Gold flecked the otherwise deep indigo facets of the gemstone. 

“The both of you should hold it. And then carry it with you,” added Shizune. She smiled, and Sakura saw, for the first time, that there were tiny lines that spread from the corners of her eyes when she did.

Shizune kissed Sakura’s forehead. “Let’s see each other more often. I’ll come to you if it makes it easier,” she said. Sakura patted the back of her hand and smiled. 

It was nearly midnight by the time she waved her siblings out the door. She stuck her head outside, watching them descend the steep path down toward the docks. And only when they smudged into the darkness did she step back inside.

She nearly ran into Tobirama holding up a bottle. “It’s open and I can’t find any corks,” he told her. 

“That’s the opposite of a problem,” Sakura replied as she went to find two clean glasses. 

They sat out on the terrace. The mosquito zapper buzzed in the corner, glowing bright blue behind them. 

Sakura swirled the wine around in her glass as she curled her knees up to her chest. A warm breeze tickled past them. 

She glanced to her left. Tobirama relaxed in his seat, long legs stretched out in front of him. She had half-expected him to wear black leather jackets and boots here, too. Seeing him in t-shirts french-tucked into shorts blew her mind a little. 

“Didn’t think you’d have brothers,” commented Tobirama, catching her staring at him. 

“Why?”

“....You give off ‘only-child’ vibes,” Tobirama said, leaning his elbow on the armrest.

“Are you calling me a brat?” she asked.

He quickly took a sip of wine. But she dissolved into giggles as she added, “....Yyyeah, I kind of am.”

Sakura told him, leaning in closer to let him refill her glass. (It was good wine, a little sweet and heavy on the tongue.) “It didn’t help that my brothers spoiled me rotten. They must have spent half their paychecks on ice cream and toys. It used to drive my sister crazy,” she recalled, chuckling a little.

“Can I ask about the age gap? How’d that happen?” Tobirama queried.

Hamura was in his forties now. Shizune and Hagoromo weren’t far behind. 

“Different dads, all of us. And we think there are some siblings above us that we haven’t met,” she answered. But then her expression soured. “I kind of don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she added. 

“Alright,” agreed Tobirama, refilling his glass to the brim.

When the wine had run out, Sakura shifted her legs. Something poked her from inside her pocket. She pinched it between her fingers to yank it out, holding the lapis lazuli up to the light. The glimmer drew Tobirama’s gaze.

“It’s that simple?” sighed Tobirama when she shared what her mother and sister had told her.

Sakura shrugged one shoulder.

“Well, Shizune told me that I would have to wear it. Which would’ve been helpful to know...” Sakura added, glaring off into the distance. As if the expression would reach her mother somehow.

With a sigh, she looked back at him. She nudged his arm with her knuckle. 

“Wanna do it now?”

“Sure.”

The soothing song was used for fussy babies who wouldn’t sleep. It calmed children during storms and pushed the memories of nightmares far away. It had been years since she had heard it, but Sakura knew the melody well. She hummed the first note. And Tobirama matched her. It was nice to know that regardless of where they came from, siren songs were all the same.

She hadn’t listened to Tobirama sing for almost a year. The sensation was like warm honey dribbling onto the crown of her head, trailing down her back, her arms. She saw his irises begin to lighten. The black leeching away and turning to bright gold.

She closed her eyes, like that would keep the song from entering into her ear and twisting up in her brain. It was like, with a single word, he could tug on the nerves and move her body like a puppet. It was unsettling. The only thing that helped her push through was the cool edge of the crystal pressed between their hands.  

And Sakura couldn’t have known. But as she pulled the notes from deep inside, they flowed out of her mouth. Her irises glowed gold too. Only, there was a slight ring of green that lingered in her eyes, just around her pupil. And she missed the way Tobirama stared at her as their voices melded and harmonized when she closed her eyes.

The last note of the song drew out, weaving through the air. Sakura opened her eyes. Tobirama still sat next to her. She didn’t know why that surprised her.

The space between their joined hands felt hot. She pulled away to reveal the deep blue crystal resting in his palm. Gold fissures had formed in the gem that glowed like it was lit from within. Sakura pinched it between her fingers, holding it up to her eyes to get a better look.

She handed it to Tobirama, who also took his time squinting at it. 

“So what’s it supposed to do?” she wondered. “Do I have to hold it when I talk or something?” 

Tobirama shrugged as he returned it to her. And then Sakura held it up to the light as Tobirama spoke. 

“Should we call your sister? Maybe she forgot to tell you something?”

She went very still. 

“What’d you say?” she demanded. 

“....I thought maybe we could call your sister,” Tobirama said, more slowly this time. With each syllable, the crystal pulsed faintly. She could feel it humming a little in her palm. And then her head whipped around so that she could see him. 

He didn’t look any different. But something had changed. She scrutinized his face. Tobirama’s eyebrows rose as he looked down at his shirt, then back at her. 

“Tobirama.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me to do something.”

“What?”

“Just- anything!” she insisted. 

Tobirama’s gaze flickered around. And then his eyes landed on the empty glasses resting on the table. “... Would you go check if we have another bottle of wine?”

And then she leaned in, mouth turning up into a gleeful smile as she whispered, “Don’t feel like it.” 

She sat on the edge of her seat, practically bouncing with glee. “Tell me to do something else.”

“Let me borrow $20.”

“No!” she declared, laughing now. 

“Say something nice about me,” he suggested.

“No, no, no!” she sang. Tobirama rested his chin in his hand as he watched her. He was smiling now, too. 

“Marry me.” It slipped from his mouth as naturally as breathing.

“N-” The word stuck in her throat. Eyes flying open, they flew to him. 

They stared at each other. Just the buzz of the mosquito zapper droning on behind them. 

Tobirama’s hand covered his mouth. Their gazes met and then quickly broke apart. 

Finally, she remembered how her mouth worked and opened it. “Um... do you... uh.... should I pretend that didn’t just happened?” she inquired.

“No,” Tobirama said too quickly. And then pressed his fist to his forehead, cringing. “I mean...yes... Well...” He broke off, sighing heavily.

Sakura grimaced, hands and feet clenching and unclenching. She cleared her throat. Tobirama raised his head a little. 

“Sooo.... I’m gonna go to bed. Because this is too awkward for me. Um.... let’s talk tomorrow?” she suggested. And she got to her feet, holding her wine glass in one hand. The indigo crystal clutched in the other. But as she headed inside, Tobirama grasped the edge of her shirt. She looked over her shoulder.

Tobirama peered up at her between his bangs. “That... wasn’t a mistake,” he confessed. 

Sakura took in his expression. She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy look. “Yes it was, Tobirama. People like us don’t get married,” she replied. 

She bent over and kissed the top of his head before she slipped inside.

They didn’t talk about it in the morning. In fact, they didn’t say a word to each other. They went out for breakfast at the same cafe. Ordered the same espresso with milk. 

Tobirama only looked up at her when he felt her nudge his shin with her foot. And it was only then that he noticed that she wore the lapis lazuli around her neck. She had wrapped a wire around it and hung it from a silver chain. 

“What do you wanna do today?” she asked him. 

“Drink until I forget who I am,” he mumbled. 

“Fantastic plan,” she agreed as she picked up a pastry. 

Maybe it was because they had spent so much time being dramatic and fighting before that things almost seemed okay. The awkwardness still hung there, like a weird third wheel throughout the rest of the trip. But that didn’t stop them from visiting tapas bars and the old hilltop forts on cobbled streets. They basked on the beach every day until even pale Tobirama started to develop a golden glow. 

He fell asleep on her shoulder halfway through the flight home. Sakura pretended to be asleep too so she wouldn’t have to shake him off. 

They parted ways at the airport. Him, back to Empire City. Her, back to Old Pines. But before she could head to the parking lot, Tobirama grasped her by the forearm. He knew her too well. 

“Hey. I know I made things weird,” he said. And then he sighed, adding in a lower voice, “Could you at least look at me?”

Sakura dragged her gaze to his face. At the trace of sunburn across the bridge of his nose. 

“Can you try not to disappear on me again?” he requested. He even managed a half-smile for her. Even though his voice didn’t have a pull on her anymore, that expression still did. She had a particular weakness for it. Especially since he rarely smiled for anything... or anyone.

“You know where to find me,” she answered. And then she thought. “But, like, don’t come find me too soon. I need some time to digest... everything,” she added. 

Tobirama nodded. And just on another one of those impulses, she leaned in to kiss the sunburn across the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll see ya,” she whispered before she pulled out of his grasp. 

The air smelled sweet with magic as she crossed town limits. Dodging the usual pot holes and dips in the road, she followed the winding road home. With the windows rolled down, she could hear the crickets chirping outside, almost unbelievably loud. 

As she passed by Kakashi’s house, she could see the lights on inside. And when she pressed the brakes, she saw Pakkun in the window, howling up a storm as he pawed at the pane. It took a moment, but then she saw the silhouette of a man walk out of the kitchen, into the living room. He froze in front of the window too. She leaned against the steering wheel and waved. 

There was no point in driving away when she’d been caught. She parked the car and unbuckled the seatbelt. She was only halfway up the walkway when the front door burst open. She expected Biscuit or one of the other dogs to be the first one out to greet her. 

To her surprise, Kakashi got there first, sweeping her up in his arms. The smell of fried chicken clung to him as he hugged her tight. One of his hands covering the back of her head as he swung her back and forth. 

“Hi!” she greeted him, laughing. 

“Welcome back,” Kakashi said so earnestly that she let him hug her for just a little longer.

[desperately-seeking-words]

Here’s a one-shot below the cut about what’s happening with Tony and Nebula leading up to Tony leaving that recording for Pepper.  It very much got away from me, but I just have a lot of feelings about Tony Stark that can’t wait until April.

Tony has a lot of time to think as he’s floating through space.  Which, for a man who thinks far too much already, is essentially torture after everything that he has been through.

Peter’s face, anguished as he crumbles to ash, flashes through his mind for the thousandth time, but just like the other instances, he immediately pushes it away.  He can’t right now.  He won’t.

Nebula skulks around the ship with a far away look on her face.  Tony knows she’s thinking about this Gamora person -- for a moment, he feels bad that he hasn’t asked about her.  He knows that she was Quill’s main squeeze, but that’s really it.  

Sometimes it seems like she might say something, but then she thinks better of it (thank whatever driving force there is in this godless universe) when she catches sight of his face.  His charisma ran out a long time ago.  When Peter-

Tony lifts himself up.  He knows there’s no more food or water, but he decides checking yet again to see if he’s missed anything is far better than replaying those first moments in this new reality.

Still nothing.  He checks the oxygen, which he had put off doing for longer than he probably should.  

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly in resignation, even though that probably isn’t advisable in his current predicament: oxygen will run out in the morning.  He doesn’t have much time.

“I’m sorry.”

Tony jumps slightly at the sudden noise.  He turns to look at Nebula, whose eyes are on the screen in front of him.  Seems like she has known for a bit longer than he has.

“When were you planning on sharing with the class?” Tony snarks.

Nebula tilts her head to the side.  “I thought it’d be worse to know.”

Tony shakes his head.  “All of this...all of this for nothing.” He doesn’t even notice the rage building inside of him until he’s swiping whatever is left of the empty food and water containers onto the floor and kicking anything within reach that might actually bend to his foot.

“That’s unwise.  You haven’t eaten in four days.  You don’t have energy to spare.”

“I don’t have anything to spare!” Tony shouts.  “I’m going to die here, with you, and everything that I did, that we did, was for nothing!”  Tony drops into a chair.  “Strange gave up the Time Stone to save me.  And now look.”  He shakes his head again. “If he hadn’t done that...”

“Thanos still would’ve gotten the stone.  One way or another.”  Nebula walks over and puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder.  He barely registers her touch.  “You’d be dead, and the boy wouldn’t have had anyone in his last moments.”

Tony flinches away from her hand at that. “Don’t.”

“Who was he to you?”

Tony turns a cold look on her.  “I said...don’t.”

Nebula stares him down; her black eyes are unreadable as se watches him.  “Gamora was my sister.”

Tony is surprised by the sudden change in topic.

“We were raised by Thanos, and he did everything he could to turn us against each other.  To build a rivalry and competitiveness that he could manipulate to his advantage.  He thought that would make the both of us stronger soldiers.  Stronger pawns.”  Nebula turns away.  “But even after all of that, she’s all I really had in this universe.  Now I have nothing.”

Tony attempts to stop his own mind from wandering to what he might have left.  What he might not.  He fails miserably.  Pepper is the first to go through his mind...she always is.  Then there’s Rhodey.  Happy. The other Avengers.

Steve.

Tony nods slowly.  “The kid was...” he pauses, choking on the past tense.  “You know, it’s so hard to explain?  He drove me up the wall with his movie references and his inability to listen, the latter of which certainly did a number on my anxiety levels, thank you very much.” Tony casts his eyes up towards the ceiling as if the right words might be written there.  “He was kind.  He was crazy smart.  He was stubborn and just so damn enthusiastic about everything.” He finds himself chuckling, his eyes stinging.  “He was...like me.  All the best parts, and none of the worst.”

Nebula looks down.  “You are a far more loving father than Thanos.”

Tony barely even blinks at the term “father,” as he realizes that was the sentiment he had been searching for.  “Yeah, well, no offense, but it doesn’t take much,” he says, not even trying to deny it, but trying to ignore the pangs in his chest.  He can see Nebula nodding her agreement in his peripherals.

Tony reaches a hand up and massages his brow as if it might stave off the painful reminiscing.  “Okay.  Oxygen runs out in the morning.  We’re certainly going to die--”

“You’re certainly going to die.  I’m more machine than anything anymore.”

“Right.” Tony glances around.  “Quill liked music, right?”

Nebula says nothing.

Tony stands, wincing at his cramping stomach.  “Well, not that I don’t enjoy heart-to-hearts with strange cyborgs, but if I’m going to go out, I wouldn’t mind a decent soundtrack.”

Nebula points to a compartment, which Tony then opens to reveal a collection of cassette tapes and an antiquated stereo system.

“Jesus,” Tony grumbles, pulling out the tapes and holding them away as if they had wronged him.  “You’d think a spaceship like this would have better tech, not this crappy setup.”

“Then you underestimate Quill’s inadequacy.”

Tony throws a smirk her way before looking back at the tapes.  He might’ve said something snippy about showing respect for the dead, but the tone Nebula had sounded about as close to fond as she was likely capable of. 

“Here we go,” Tony says as he pops in a cassette tape.  “Rocket Man” by Elton John starts playing.  Tony turns to Nebula.  “I know it’s a bit on the nose, but I couldn’t resist.”

Nebula clearly has no idea what he’s talking about, so she just watches as he walks up to her.  He holds out a hand.  “Ever danced before?”

“I’ve never had interest.”

Tony shrugs.  “Knowing what little I do know about Quill, I’m sure Gamora danced.”  He smiles.  “Don’t make me dance this last one solo.”

Nebula clearly still has no interest, but she takes his hand, possibly out of pity.  Not knowing typical dance etiquette, she is leading him, but Tony decides he’ll let it slide.  No need to piss off the cyborg with outdated gender expectations from a planet that isn’t her own.

She’s a stiff dancer; even when Tony tries to spin her around, to which she responds with an incredulous look, she does it in a slow, awkward, rigid manner that Tony can’t help but laugh at.  It feels good to laugh.  It’s a nice distraction.

“I know it’s gonna be a long, long time...”

As the song fades out, he wonders if anyone will find the ship.  He figures someone has to eventually, but then again, the universe is a lot smaller than it was a few weeks ago.

He thinks about Pepper again, and he feels in his gut that she survived.  He knows it.  He can’t afford to believe anything else.

“Hey,” Tony says as he steps away from Nebula, who seems perfectly content to stop with this dancing foolishness.  “Do you think I could, uh, have a moment alone?”

Nebula does that head tilting thing again.  

“It’s not what you think,” Tony is quick to amend.  “You’re great and all, and I appreciate the dance, but my fantasies are reserved for a beautiful and vengeful woman back home.”

Nebula, without another word, quickly turns on her heel and walks away.  Tony feels like maybe he should feel a smidgen of shame for making a masturbation joke, but he just can’t bring himself to.

He walks over to where the mask to his suit sits, beaten and charred from combat.  He gently lowers himself to the floor in front of it.

If they do find this ship, then he has to have something for them to find other than his corpse.  Something for her.

He activates the helmet camera, knowing he has to be quick to conserve its power.  “Is this thing on?” He asks, tapping the metal with his finger tips.

“Hey, Ms. Potts.”

Rocket Man, burning up his fuse up there alone...

And in that moment, as he composes his final farewell to the love of his life, and despite Nebula’s somewhat more welcome presence elsewhere in the ship, he really does feel all alone.

[ilovethings-somuch]

In Sickness & In Health

Chris Evans x Reader

Anon requested: “Can u do a one shot where chris and your guys son is sick and you baby them???”

A/N: This is basically just domestic fluff, I hope you enjoy! 

“Chris,” I call as I walk back towards our bedroom after waking up Miles. “It looks like we’re going to have a little change of plans today, do you think you can stay home with Mi-” I stop talking as I hear the sound of vomiting coming from our en-suite. I find Chris kneeling over the toilet when I enter the bathroom. I make my way over to him and crouch down beside him to rub his back. “How are you feeling?” I ask him weakly.

“Like shit,” he mumbles from where his face is buried in his arms.

“Are you going to puke again or should we move back to bed?”

“Bed,” he says and starts standing up. I get my shoulder under his armpit and try to help him walk back to bed. “I might need a bucket,” he tells me once he’s seated on his side of the bed.

“Okay, hang tight.” I rush back to the bathroom to grab a bucket for him. Once he’s settled I go back to check on Miles. He fell back asleep after I first woke him up and noticed his fever. I let him sleep but turn on the baby monitor that we haven’t used in ages so that I’ll be able to hear him from downstairs if he wakes up. I hook the other side of the baby monitor to my belt before I head to the kitchen to call work and let them know I won’t be able to make it in today.  Turns out it’s Chris I should’ve set up the baby monitor for since he’s the one who I heard calling for me after my phone call. I hurry back upstairs so he can stop shouting before he accidentally wakes Miles back up. When I get to our bedroom he’s still laying down with his eyes closed but his hand is held out while he calls my name.

“Hey, I’m here, what do you need?” I ask him and hold onto his hand once I’m close enough.

“You need to go to work. I’ll be okay,” he tries to assure me but judging by how pale he has gotten I know that isn’t the case.

“You can’t handle looking after yourself and Miles in this state. Besides, I already called in. It’s all taken care of.”

“Miles, doesn’t he have school?” he asks, squinting at me as if he’s trying to figure something out. “What day is it?”

“It’s Wednesday so yes he does have school but I think you two got the same bug. He had a fever when I woke him up so he’s back to sleep now.”

“It was probably the football game. I knew we should’ve left when it started raining but he was having so much fun,” Chris says, instantly blaming himself for their bad fortune.

“It doesn’t matter how you got it, don’t think like that. There’s always some bug going around his school, he could’ve picked it up there and brought it home to you. Either way, it doesn’t matter. We just need to focus on getting everyone feeling better.” Chris nods solemnly and doesn’t try to argue anymore before I continue, “do you need anything? Are you going to try to go back to sleep?”

“I don’t think I can, I was trying but no luck.”

“Okay, do you want to go downstairs? I could put a movie on for you,” I suggest as I absentmindedly push his hair back from his forehead.

“That sounds good, as long as you’ll cuddle with me.”

“And risk catching your cold? No thanks,” I tease and stand up from the bed. Chris pouts at me and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m kidding, of course, I’ll cuddle with you.” I grab Chris’ pillow off the bed and the bucket off the nightstand before leading Chris downstairs. I get him settled on the couch with a big stack of pillows and our biggest, fluffiest blanket before I turn to find a good movie.

“You know, when I was a kid I would always watch-”

“Oliver and Company when you were sick,” I finish for him as I turn around with the DVD.

“You know me so well,” he says with a smile.

Once the movie is set up I make my way over to the couch and Chris lifts up part of the blanket for me to snuggle against him. I considered turning on the gas fireplace but the heat radiating off of Chris from his fever is plenty to keep us warm under the blankets. Then, when Dodger joins us by laying on Chris’s lap I end up having to pull one leg out of the blanket to cool off. It’s around this time when I hear Miles making noise over the monitor. I notice Chris’s eyes are starting to droop closed when I look at him, but when I whisper that I’m going to go check on Miles he seems to wake up a little more. 

“How are you feeling, buddy?” I ask Miles gently as I feel his forehead to see how hot he still is. It definitely it’s as hot as it was when I first woke him up this morning, but not back to normal either.

“My head hurts,” he mumbles.

“Do you wanna take some medicine?” I suggest, to which he shrugs and turns his lip up. “I know it tastes funny, but it’ll make you feel better. Then, maybe you can come watch a movie with me and Daddy.”

“Daddy’s watching a movie?”

“He is, he doesn’t feel very good either.”

“Oh, I guess I’ll take the medicine,” he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world.

I grab the cold medicine and measure it out before he can change his mind. He stares at the little cup for a long time before he finally drinks the small amount of medicine and I give him a glass of water to rinse out the taste with. Once that’s taken care of I help him collect some blankets and stuffies to take downstairs with us to finish the movie.

“Hey little man,” Chris says when we make it back down to the TV room.

“Hi daddy, what are you watching.”

“Oliver and Company, you know, this is where Dodger got his name from.”

“No it isn’t,” Miles counters as he crawls up the couch to lay by Chris.

“What do you mean? Of course, it is. Look,” Chris says, pointing to the screen, “that’s Dodger.” Our Dodger picks up his head at all the mentions of his name and starts wagging his tail.

“Not you, pup,” I tell him while petting his head.

I lay back down on the other side of Chris, and Miles eventually starts watching the movie instead of pretending to argue with his dad. By the time the movie has ended Chris and Miles have both fallen back to sleep. I let them sleep while I get things taken care of around the house. Later, I make the boys some soup and make sure they each eat at least one bowl and drink a glass of water so they don’t get dehydrated. After lunch Miles insists he isn’t tired and tries to convince Chris to watch another movie with him. However, Chris and I have always tried to make sure that sick days don’t turn into fun days so he won’t pretend to be sick just to stay home. So after lunch, he goes back to his room to rest a little more. Chris is good about it and tells Miles that he doesn’t feel very good and he wants to get more sleep too. Chris completes the act and goes up to our room when I take Miles to his. I give him a couple books to look at and leave the lamp on so he doesn’t have to sleep if he doesn’t want to. Once I’m sure Miles isn’t gonna sneak out of bed I go back to my room to check on Chris.

“Are you still feeling crappy or were you just playing along?” I ask Chris when I find him.

“I really don’t feel good.”

“You should take some medicine.”

“No, I don’t need that,” he tries to wave me off but his arm barely raises a couple inches.

“Chris, there’s nothing wrong with a little cold medicine,” I insist while feeling his temperature again. “You’re burning up, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am? I’ve been cold all day,” he shrugs.

“Lay back,” I instruct him and help him move the pillows the right way. “I’ll be right back.”

I go to the bathroom to get a cool washcloth to put on his forehead and to get some medicine.

“Take these,” I hand him the pills and a glass of water and he frowns at me. “Stop that, it’s going to make you feel better.” He rolls his eyes but does as he’s told. Once he’s laying down again I lay the washcloth over his forehead and eyes in an attempt to break his fever. Once he’s situated and I think he’s asleep I try to quietly leave the room.

“Are you leaving?” he speaks up as I step away from the bed.

“I was going to go downstairs, do you need anything else?”

“Just, stay here,” he says while patting the bed next to him.

The rest of the day passes in a mess of changing washcloths, getting water, and eventually ends with Miles and Dodger joining me and Chris in bed. Even if they are sick, it sure is nice to spend more time with my boys. Miles’s fever breaks around 4 in the afternoon while Chris’s doesn’t until well after 10. It’s amazing how even after a day of laying around, Miles still falls asleep well before his usual bedtime and stays asleep until morning. Chris does the same and only wakes when my alarm goes off. I, on the other hand, had an awful night of being hot and then cold and having a hard time getting comfortable. Though, as soon as the alarm goes off and I sit up in bed I know why. I end up half running to the bathroom so my stomach can empty its contents into the toilet. I hear Chris mutter a curse as he follows behind me to help hold my hair and rub my back.

“This is your fault,” I accuse him once I’m done vomiting.

“I know, I know. Let me get Miles ready for school and then I’ll take care of you just the way you took care of me,” he tells me softly as he helps me back to bed.

“You better,” I grumble.

“I will,” he insists and he does.

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