#oh also the guy who was on annual leave was the only one drinking milk so there's expired milk in the fridge

[fazcinatingblog]

the accountant at work was telling me today that he used to work at a place where they had a "business meeting" every friday and then eventually they said what it actually was and it was just a meeting where they talked footy

[dangerouslysmartslime]

My Little Pony The New Generation

Seems like the things that remembering of what happened in Generation 4 waws the olden times where the pony kinds were friends and didn’t use magic against each other. IE Generation 4 of the Friendship Pope. That the main character is a girl obsessed with the era of Generation. A lighthouse and Sunny will know, you stand up for what you believe in. Show everypony that we’re friends. That maybe today is that day! A father that loves his daughter with all his heart~! And the two colts that she was playing with, one of them she will see as an adult on her adventures as shown by the trailers and the other had the depressing note of wanting to be Sheriff, and everyone knows that Police Officers are reviled for keeping people in line, especially colored by their own bigotry, so insert the “Lois and Clark” Yikes. Sunny and her father write a letter to the unicorns and pegasi only to tell the story of Generation 4 to Sunny. A friend to fly around or float things, why can’t we be friends anymore? That is a great question, but we’ll figure it out together. And the drawings that she has as well as all the things she has of Generation 4 is so adorable!! Only to flash to when she’s an adult and the movie actually starts~! Sunny gets herself dressed with the same sort of pins I use on my hat. She gets ready her bag and she looks at pictures of her father in a way that mean it seems like he’s dead… And the movie goes into the first musical number. “Canter Logic” She goes on a ice cream run for a job, only for that colt who said he’s be a Sheriff to chase after her… And steal somepony’s milkshake and cookies… She gives a balloon to someone who wanted one, only for that one colt to continue being the worst pony in the movie so far in terms of douchbaggery. She is going and showing her enthusiasm for life while the colt continues to chase after her cleaning up all the kindness she wishes to do and come to University. A squad of critters like Fluttershy only he doesn’t actually like it. Annual presentation at Canterlot. Hey, come on! Sprout was actually just doing his job when Hitch was giving him orders. “Every year you sneak in and every year you try” As a friend not as a Sheriff, don’t? Someone litters and Sprout is continuing to be an asshole so I was right. So Sunny is mischevious only to find that this is a factory much like the memed on Rainbow Factory… Canter Logic is Phyllis Clovery, the mother of Sprout, and the actual biggest asshole. Oh wait, she actually is the main antagonist because she’s a bigot. Yep, markets her products for bigotry and wha… Ant-mind reading? And keeping eye on the sky doesn’t make sense… The earth pony balloon escape pack doesn’t work. Only for Sunny to try to protest it and she does it in a dumb way and her friend who is the Sheriff stops it by pulling the plug. “Aren’t you tired of being scared all the time? The truth is, we’re not in danger! We don’t need any of this Canter Logic junk!” Just imagine if you had a friend who could fly or do magic. That everything you hear is wrong when they could be friends and still could be! And “Phyllis is still a bigot.” To uphold it? Everypony includes Pegasi and Unicorns, “Then prove it” means she’s going to be go on an adventure. And the one friend that she has is an asshole to her because due to propaganda he says that it’s just an old filly story concocted by her father. She then looks to the sky and mourns her father once again, wishing he was here. Only for… Izzy Moonbow the Unocnr meets Sunny and all the bigots (IE everyone except Sunny) panics as the bigots… Really? That seems a little harsh. Well yeah, they’re bigots, what do you expect Izzy! Izzy plays it like a game of hopscotch only to get trapped by a trap because she was looking at Terminator Judgment Day. Hitch then lectures her. So, you’re named Sunny? Bye! Nice to meet you now! Hitch acts like he’s the only sane man, but in reality Izzy is just as enthusiastic as Sunny as being a silly dork. Nooo, I can’t make it float but I can open cans! Tada! No magic…  So the bigots keep being bigots and they flee. No magic? But we did have magic and that was many moons ago and everyone is racist because the magic leaves. Unicorn with no magic and everyone is a bigot. Earth ponies have a lot of bigoted stories while only 3 stories unicorns. What if they don’t! And then there’s the musical number 2. Neat… Two folks becoming friends who are looking out for each other like Sunny is friggin friendship pope with Pinkie Pie. So they get an apple to have a snack and continue trotting along to try to get to the land of Pegasi. Hitch is the “perfect guy” in terms of taking care of himself and Sprout is now the Interim Sheriff. Still think Phyllis is the villain. Only to find that yes, everyone is bigoted against each other because they think everyone else did something bad. And… Can Pegasi not fly? No, the butch pegasus is here “there’s no way we could, there’s no way we could!” The shield is.. Can you fly to the moon? Well I do like sneakers. And then modern Americana appears in Zephyr Heights… Royal bash for Queen Haven and Princess Pip the influencer. Of course… Pip Pip Hooray? Pegasi do have a Castle, and it even looks like they stole Canterlot and renamed it. And… Both of the Pegasi are royalty. Earth Pony and Unicorn in Zephyr Heights, and no, not an attack ya silly. And Hitch goes after them and… Sprout is here but people are revolting? Wait, no they aren’t. “We need a real Sheriff!” Only for him to get all fearmongerin. I see… Whispering danger danger.. Generation 1 is shown… “Follow me mindlessly!” Angry Mob ANGRY ANGRY. Influencer advertisments and… “We haven’t seen a single pony flying except the royal family. Only for a princess to.. Just call me Zip.Izzy Moonbow. Important about magic? How does your work? The unicorns lost theirs. No magic. “Well, that changes things. Her father’s journal, and that star is actually like Twilight Sparkle’s journal. “Only royals can fly because for some reason they have magic. Nicorn hair and Pegasi! Hitch is looking for them only to find that the Pegasi captured them. When unicorns and Earth Ponies visited Zephyr Heights and the Wonderbolts were seen in a picture. The truth is they can’t fly either but just faking by… Wires and good lighting… A “ridiculous lie.” To… Soar using a fan. A bright sparkle, says Izzy. Canterlot’s old Stained Glass. It’s seen right there and now each one is placed in order, fitting. The Crystals go together united. So if they put them back together magic would return… The unicorn crystal Bridlewood is had. The Queen never takes her crown off… Swap real crown with decoy. Stealthy and stealing the crown. Paying a guest a visit and Pip is told. No one can fly, it is just a stage show… Because of course, Pip is just an influencer using a stage show and of course aother song… While Sunny and Moonbow are doing the plot~… But the dog happens, where the small dog is like a guard dog. And Hitch is also finding them, then the recording staff is like “Prisoners have escaped!” And Hitch is put on stage… “What is happening. The Royals are revealed to not be able to fly either, and they accidentally drop the Crystal… “Arresting you and saving you.” The Queen’s daughter, oh the Sheriff just became detective. The models of the characters look so much like the toys, Pip and Hitch join the party! Meanwhile… Canter Logic creates war machines complete with Sprout sounding like Vader when he’s really just drinking a milkshake. “Just make it work, okay!” “My town mommy” And that he is “Now Emperor” From Defense to Offense. “All thanks to encouragement” Hitch and Pip whining about being in the party. Look, once everyone gets magic back they’ll be heroes! Crystal clear and he deodorant have his badge. Between you an d me, the badge was creating an unhealthy power dynamic. Fair point. And they start giving up at a bridge being broken, only for Izzy opening the entrance because she knows the way. Breaking open a tree using her horn. They make a fire only for Hitch to be a whiny man lighting a fire “come on, don’t be a hero dude, just come here by the fire.” And they’re good to be a team, just like the Mane 6 of Generation 4. Only for Izzy to look down that the idea of being together is the best thing to happen, that getting friends is better than just getting magic. From Sunny there was that friends in Maritime Bay. That someday they’d prove that all ponies are meant to be friends. That Hitch wants to do his part, “what do we have to lose, right!” Not far from all the SIGNS OF DEATH LIKE THIS IS THE EVERFREE FOREST. “The Villa Izzy~” And all the silly things that she made like Izzy’s friendship bracelets and a tea set… Only for Izzy to be sad for not having a tea party and… A glow up? Although they’re difference races they should unite like the ancient politics of the Friendship Pope~! Comes another song. And it was a fun song so I sang along. Unicorns are very superstitious as to have magic, feather, wing, and mayonnaises. No forbidden words like Mayonnaise. The Unicorn Crystal is owned by Alphabettle, and he can smell fear. “Tea” Hold, the milk, quite the game player I see, why, do you play? I don’t play I win?” Just Dance! Both ponies agree, best out of three! Only need to win one out three for Sunny. Round 3… Here that sunny, feel the Rhythm take you over! I’m feeling it, go Sunny! And she wins with some hype from Pip! Only for the horn to fall off! And a Unicorn! Which you knew already! No, stop… No, don’t. It’s time to run… No pony has magic, but we’re here to bring it back! It can sound unbelievable, but trying is best.  But nooo she needs the 2 out of 3. SHE NEEDS THE 2 out of 3!!! Ye, they don’t have to fight! Sprout makes a tank and he cackles menacingly. That they can be separated by gear and distrust, or there can be friendship and love between the races, like her father. Like her loving father. SO they unite and the reincarnation of the Friendship Pope. The reincarnation of the Friendship Pope has brought the Magic of Friendship to Equestria again.

[writerwrites]

I Would Climb To You

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: You’ve been friends since middle school, shared a lot of firsts, even had a pact that if both of you weren’t married by a ‘respectable age’ you’d tie the knot. For the first time in years you’re both single on the annual Wilson Family Trip, but feeling like you need to find yourselves, hating dating apps, and not wanting to play the rebound game you two come up with a genius idea to have your needs met: friends with benefits... What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, FWB!au, swearing, a little talk about the military/injuries

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is my entry into the great @wxntersoldiers​​​ 6k AU challenge! PS. Jammies!

“Damn, I remember this. Never thought it would leave a scar.” Sam’s dark eyes looked over at you, his hand outreached to flick the faded palm sized scar that was a different shade of brown from the rest of your hip. “A Skip It, right?”

“Not just a Skip It,” The words came out through breathless laughter, “A Skip It challenge in Moon Shoes. We really should have known it wasn’t going to end well.”

Sam’s laugh, a missed sound in the last four months when your best friend was deployed, wrapped you up in familiar comfort. It was his first mission since you were honorably discharged and despite your swearing up and down that you didn’t miss the chaos of being a para-rescuer in the Air Force with that goofy asshole that had been your best friend since you moved to his hometown in seventh grade, you did. Moreover, you knew he knew it. That hug goodbye flashed in your memory briefly, Sam coming at you in camo goofy bear arms outstretched for a hug that, when given, didn’t have the smack to it that always made you unsteady on your feet. You’d reassured him you were fine, physically and emotionally, hugging him tightly back before poking him in the ribs and letting him get on with his farewells to his siblings. Despite the inaudible whispers, you knew he was telling them to check in on you. You also knew he didn’t need to say it, they’d taken you in, just like he had, many years ago. “Hey, where’d you go?” Sam’s voice pulled you out of your head and back to the poolside.

“Don’t look so concerned or someone’s gonna think you’re in love with me.” With a wave of your hand you tried to blow him off, but he didn’t bite, so you went to that line the two of you never crossed. “I was thinking about A.C. Slater and how I totally would have milked an injury in school if it would’ve given me a chance to hook up with a guy who could bench my bodyweight. If. You. Must. Know.”

When your head lulled to the side and a playful glare at Sam over your sunglasses, tongue sticking out, he scoffed. “You’re not that thick, I could bench you. It’s all about balancing the weight.”

“Oh, is this the move?” Laughing you hopped up and squeezed the hard muscles of his biceps, your dark curls dripping onto his bare chest. “I always wondered what you said to get a different girl to leave the bar with you every time we went out. I just assumed you did the whole ‘I’m a soldier’ card.”

Sam feigned offense and tickled his fingers at your waist, throwing you into a fit of laughter. Before you could protest he had one large hand on your inner thigh and the other on your ribs. Instinctually, you tightened your thighs around his hand, your hands ready to smack him on the top of his head as he just gripped you tighter, picking you up like you were a doll. “It might be the move.”

He groaned, you laughed and then he was laughing too. The consequence of loosening your muscles was your body falling onto his chest. “Don’t you dare groan, Wilson, or I’m going to let the boys know you dropped me.”

“Oh trust me, the fact that I dropped you poolside would not be the talk of the conversation.” With a scoff you asked what would be and he obliged you with an explanation you should’ve seen coming. “They always thought we were a thing, still do. They didn’t even ask if I was ‘going home’ for our leave. Instead, they asked what we were getting into.” Despite rolling your eyes, Sam went on. “I told ‘em that I was going to interview at the V.A. and that we were joining my family for a vacation- sun and sand, drinks poolside.”

By now you’d gotten off of him, your hip shoving his thigh to the side so that you could sit on his lounge chair and steal sips of his beer. “So, what did you tell them? Destination wedding or honking hula girl titties?”

“They asked for pictures of you in that bikini.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned, knowing that despite the love for your brothers in arms they were still sexist pigs at the best of times. “I hope you told them you think of me like a sister.”

“So I should’ve lied?” Sam snorted, snatching his beer back from your greedy lips. “If I was going to lie I would’ve said destination wedding to make them feel like assholes for not being invited.”

“So what, I’m a broken toy soldier now so I’m not your sister anymore?” You were hurt and Sam could hear it in your voice, but the sunglasses hid the glimmer of tears in your eyes.

In a huff, Sam watched you get up and reach to snatch his beer back, not particularly wanting to walk across the sunny poolside to get another. He pulled it away again, looking up at you. “You really want to do this right here, right now, on vacation, in front of some strangers’ kids playing Marco Polo.”

Stubborn, the both of you.

You were back in your room in the Wilson’s four bedroom and two bathroom villa faster than Sam could catch up with you and you didn’t care that you had left him with flip flops and a long walk to think about how much it hurt to have him push back about you being family after all these years. You’d sputtered away in the rented golf cart, middle finger flying high. Even now, using Paul and Darlene’s timeshare as a getaway for the kids still included you. You bit your lip and rummaged through your things, hoping a shower would stop you from taking an Uber back to the airport.

When you tapped on the bathroom door you shared with Sam’s sister, Sarah, you heard her holler back. “I’ll be out soon. Are you and Sam coming with Gideon and I to that hibachi place with the bar next door?”

“Sam might. I’m feeling jet lagged, so I think I’m going to sleep early today so that I don’t mess up the rest of our vacation.” You nibbled on your bottom lip until it was sore and puffy, rolling your towel over your arms both hoping she’d buy it and wondering she’d tell you how long ‘soon’ was. Before you got your answer Gideon walked out of the master and into his room next to yours, “Hey, Sam’s still at the pool if you want to text him and see if he’s going with you all.”

He was already taking out his phone, texting Sam, and without looking at you he said, “Just use the master bathroom. I promise the ‘boy’s bathroom is just as clean as yours and you know she’s going to be in there for ages.”

As Sarah shouted out some profanity at him, you mouthed a thank you and slipped into Sam’s room. Like your own, the bed was made and the only sign of life was the suitcase with a few items dangling out of its edges. A glance at the closet as you walked into the bathroom was another tell on your similarities and enlistment- all of the clothes neatly hung in the closet.

You couldn’t even be sure how long the hot water was running over you. As you rinsed off the sweat and sunblock, the door burst open and you swore. “What the f-.” Cut off by flying sandals you squawked again, “What the actual f-.”

Sam cut you off again, shutting the door and crossing his arms but turning toward the opposing wall for your modesty, not that the opaque shower curtain he had boomeranged his sandals around was giving you much cover. “When I said I don’t see you like a sister I didn’t mean that I don’t see you as a soldier, you earned every rank and medal working your ass twice as hard as any of us had to. I’m proud of you, so don’t think for a minute I’m going to let you see yourself as broken. I meant I don’t see you the same as Sarah- never have, never will.” Tears streamed down your cheeks and you were grateful for the water to cover the hurt Sam seemed hell bent on inflicting at the beginning of your vacation after you missed the hell out of him. “You are my best friend and you’re my family. Harlem’s a place I called home in a way, but when I thought about where I was going to live, I didn’t think about where. Harlem didn’t feel like home anymore without you. I realized home is where my person is. You’re my person.”

Your stomach lurched as you listened, an anxious flip. Feeling like you had to put a stop to the conversation he seemed to be trying to have you stuck your head out from around the curtain. “If you’re trying to tell me you’re in love with me you can cut that shit out right now, Sam Wilson. I know the first VHS you masturbated to and you puked on me at prom, when you got your first promotion, when you saw your first d-.”

“Stop. Stop, I’m not in love with you.” He waved his hand like the l-word was leaving a bad stench under his nose. “It doesn’t mean that I can think of you like a sister, either.”

Leaning back into the shower you shut off the water, hoping that it would freeze his junk off when it was turned back on. “Why? You never seemed to have a problem thinking about me that way in middle school, high school, basic training… When did it change?”

You stepped out in a towel, curls dripping everywhere as you looked at Sam, his frame still blocking your path to the door. “Oh I sure as shit did, even in middle school. You know the first VHS I got off to, but you don’t know the real person I thought about every time I was single? C’mon.”

Scoffing in disbelief you moved to the door. “Lying ass.”

“Oh, so you didn’t think of me once or twice either.” You refused to answer, eyes on the door behind him. It was a tell, he knew your silence was an omission. “When was the last time?” If you gave him an inch, you knew Sam Wilson was good for a mile. A glare, daggers straight up into his dark eyes. “That recently? Since I’ve been back?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It’s a vacation. We have a whole house to ourselves.” Don’t say it. Don’t ruin this. You chanted in your head. “With clear boundaries, as two consenting grown ass adults, why should we be the only people in this house not getting laid?”

Sam was sleeping on the other side of the hall but you’d told him at the pool that both of his siblings had brought people back from their night out and you now knew way too much about what they were into in the sheets. Your eyes fell to his full lips and you inadvertently licked your own. Against your better judgement and before you could bite your tongue you asked, “Clear boundaries?”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob and his tongue run across his lips, wondering if maybe he hadn’t expected you to be game. “All right, obviously we’d stop if one of us started seeing someone, be honest in and out of the bedroom- like always, and stop if feelings get in the mix, no cuddling or staying over naked. Anything else?”

“Grooming and contraception, always.” Sam nodded in agreement and started to pull his clothes off, stepping out of your way and heading toward the shower. Though your gaze followed him it fell to the tile when he slipped his thumbs under the hem of his boardshorts. “What about kissing… like on the mouth?”

“We’ve done it before.” He laughed, starting the shower before getting in and though your eyes had been on the clothes on the floor and his feet you slowly built up the confidence to really look at him.

With his back turned to you it was easy to see why he was more than capable of picking you up with ease. You’d only stollen a glance at his whole frame a few times; the notorious high school streak challenge, a skinny dipping haze in basic, and the unspeakable time you walked into his room after a bad breakup and he was… Well, shaking your head to erase the thought like an Etch A Sketch, you unabashedly stared at his statuesque frame climbing into the shower before climbing onto the bathroom counter. “Do high school dares and spin the bottle really count?”

“You kiss differently when it isn’t a game?” Sam stuck his head back out of the shower and looked you over, studying your expression as he covered himself in shower gel. Guilty, you’d gone all in to make an ex jealous and Sam knew it then and was calling your bluff now. “If you don’t want to we don’t have to.”

“They left, thought we had an argument to work out and said they’d stay out late to make sure we worked it out.” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips on the other side of the curtain and you felt the urge to climb in the shower and wallop him right on his perfect haunches if it wouldn’t solely prove him right.

There was a long silence, but you stayed perched there on the sink, listening to the water, picturing Sam under it, then feeling guilty about it. He wasn’t wrong, you’d thought about him occasionally, more out of him being the only completely decent guy you knew and recent break ups making you not want to think about the last guy you slept with. Getting off to the thought of Sam felt dirty, which made you squirm a little… because it wasn’t wrong, just personal. With your towel riding up over your thick thighs, the cool marble of the sink pressed into the curve of your ass, making you shiver as you rocked your hips a little trying to get more comfortable. Your legs swung back and forth and you looked across the counter for lotion to soothe the heat from the sun and hot shower. “Lotion?” The question was asked as you watched him step out, catching a glimpse at the front of him as he grabbed his towel and tucked it around his waist. Sam reached into the cabinet behind you and put the container shea butter, opening the lid and taking in the scent that was distinctly Sam. “What’s in it?” Musing aloud as you took a bit between your fingers and started to warm it up in your palms before massaging it into your skin.

His eyes drank up the movements as he toweled off, a bit to your dismay as you were enjoying the sight of water shimmering down the dark lines of his stomach. “I always put a few essential oils in there. I think this one I added black spruce and…” He trailed off, coming closer, nudging your knees apart with his hips like he needed the mirror and you were in his way, “birch, maybe.”

The nudge almost sent you falling into the sink and your shea butter covered hands wrapped around him as you let out a fleeting squeal and laugh. You scooted closer to the edge, wrapping your legs around his for leverage. “Well, I guess I’ve got your back.” Laughing you ran your hands up Sam’s damp back, massaging the lotion into his skin, hitting the knots and curves with intention. You couldn’t be sure when he stopped putting lotion on his arms or finished brushing his fingers over the fresh finally-on-leave stubble blossoming on his jaw but he had. His dark brown gaze was on you when you looked up at him and you became aware of your breath on his chest. A smirk drew across your lips, trying not to let yourself be shaken by the look in his eyes. “You good?”

Sam’s response was a grunted ‘mmhm’ as he picked the shea butter back up and started to caress the lotion into your thighs. You froze and it was his turn to ask, “You good?” A challenge, two could play this game.

There was a time you were quick to snap back with witty comments, but determined to abuse the door Sam had opened, you leaned forward the mere inch to his chest, still hot from the shower, and pressed your lips to his skin. He groaned and you smirked. But the playful back and forth torture continued, you massaging Sam’s back, moving lower with every circle, was met with Sam’s own caresses further up your thighs. His hands were under the hem of the towel before yours had reached his ass. Like turning on the green light at a race, your tongue slipped out of your mouth and brushed down his chest to his ribs, where you nipped at the defined muscle. That set him off and what had been quiet moans between the two of you was now a deep growl from Sam. With a casual “oops,” you were really telling him, checkmate.

But two can play that game, his eyes said as they looked straight into your soul. Sam’s fingers pulled open your towel and you bit your lip, letting him have his moment. Your gaze narrowed and you pulled his own off, your tongue running across your lips when his length sprung free. This wasn’t uncharted territory, you’d long since grew out of the uncomfortable in your skin complex that was debilitating and internalized by so many women of your complexion. The tips of your fingers pressed into the cut of muscle over his hips and Sam leaned forward only to groan as your hands curved away from his semi and down his thighs. Your nails scratched gently around the back of his thighs and teased him again by completely avoiding his toned glutes. Impatient with the teasing, Sam’s brushed the back of his fingers over your chest before palming the slope of your breasts. The way your nipples went hard under the slightest attention from the pad of his thumb made the man’s cock twitch in front of you.

If he was determined to keep pushing the line further, then you were determined to push it faster. Your soft hands wrapped around his muscle, stroking him tight and slow. His eyes closed and his mouth opened in a near-silent groan. No talking was needed, you could see the fire moving straight through him and you squirmed on the sink with delight, all too aware of how wet making him hard in your hand was making you wet. Proud of the littlest accomplishment of pleasure, a little victory in a lifetime long list of teasing, you explored the new territory, brushing your thumb in gentle small circles over the tip of his cock. The pad of your thumb came up wet with precum and you looked right at him as you brought your thumb to your lips and sucked the digit clean. Sam’s fingers dug harder into your thighs and you let him pull you not just to the edge of the sink but so that there was no longer space between the two of you.

A whimper passed your lips and your thumb left your mouth with a pop as his cock pressed against your pelvis and stomach; long, thick, and hard and Sam’s expression was just as proud and uncompromising. He rocked his hips and you squeezed your thighs tighter at his sides. There was a fleeting moment where his eyes softened, his mouth opened, and you knew he was going to ask if you were sure- as if there was some way to come back from giving your best friend a boner while you sat naked in his bathroom talking about thinking about just doing this. “I’d like to know if you’re worth the hype.”

“Oh really?” He laughed and smiled up at him. There was no other reason for a protest and, given how wound up the pair of you were from being in dry spells, there wasn’t a need or want for foreplay beyond the introductory touching you’d both fleetingly just engaged in. Pulses rampant, Sam pulled away just enough to line himself up to your entrance, catching a glimpse of your dripping pussy and nearly giving in to bury his face between your thick thighs. A low and slow, “Fuck,” passed Sam’s lips as he pushed himself into your tight passage.

Your giggle became a breathy gasp as he filled you. Swallowing at your surprisingly dry throat you buried your face in his arm and, as your heat stretched to accommodate him you bit gently into his bicep. Whimpering when he slowed further, he took the hint and kept going until he filed you to the hilt. Your dark eyes looked up at him and you ran your tongue up the vein on his arm where you’d left a little bite mark. Placing careful kisses up his arms and across his chest, you moved your hands to the edge of the bathroom’s countertop and bit your lip as you held on and you moved your legs up over his hips, locking at the ankles over his ass. Sam wasted no time, as if just getting to this point had been a marathon of torture. He held onto your waist and what started as a few long thrusts where he made sure you were okay, quickly turned into deep thrusts at a steady pace. “Yes, right there,” the words were a panted plea when he hit the right spot and like a machine he kept driving himself into you, right there, making the bathroom echo with the sound of your moaning and the obscene echo of his cock claiming you.

Tightening around him, Sam was soon groaning with you, both satisfied and wanting more of you. Untangling your legs, he put them over his shoulders. The combination of being completely under his control and the view of his muscles hard at work with the labor of the deep and frantic fuck made your toes curl. Reaching back you pressed a palm into the curve of the sink for more pressure and leverage. Your breasts with every thrust and his eyes moved from your lips to your chest. The way his tongue ran across his full lips, the way he bit his lip, all of it made the coil in your core impatient for release. When he focused on his own pleasure, and you had no leverage to even roll your hips, your mind went static and you begged, “Sam, please. Please, harder! More. I need you.”

To your surprise Sam pushed your legs off his shoulder and thrust hard and deep inside you so that you called out his name and scratched down his back. Then Sam pulled you up off of the sink. Quickly adapting, your legs wrapped tightly around him and you looped your arms around his neck. With Sam’s hands pawing at your thighs and ass, you using your own strength to grind, and him back in a deep rapid thrusts you knew you were going to fall over the edge. He watched you, both of you cursing loudly in the steamy bathroom, “I know you’re close. Look at me.”

Frazzled, you followed the command like a good soldier and it only made his hips rut into you more enthusiastically. Your skin burned against his and you hungrily pulled his mouth to yours and poured in proof that maybe the both of you hadn’t really poured everything into those silly spin the bottle snogs. You couldn’t pull away, the taste of his beer still on his lips and the familiar comforting scent of him enveloped you and you gave in to Sam’s control. Your lips fell from his and your head lulled back, curls sticking to the fresh sweat on your forehead and shoulders as your legs quaked to the point that he had to cling to your thighs as your orgasm quaked through your body. Your moaning quickly turned into bashful laughter, which you stifled by biting your lip as your muscles spasmed around him.

With Sam still inside you, your juices dripping down his muscle, you pulled yourself back against his chest and nipped at his jaw. His dark eyes had been staring at you, an expression you couldn’t decipher. “I didn’t even know I could cum that hard.” Whatever that expression had been on his face now melted back into the look of lust you’d seen painted on his face when he unraveled your towel. You held onto him more tightly as he moved to the wall and pinned you to it. You watched his muscles in the damp mirror as he fervently rutted himself into you. The tips of your fingers caressed the muscles down his back and scratched at as much of his toned ass as you could grab past your own thighs. “No one has ever felt this good inside me.”

Was it positive praise, did he just love a good compliment because he was a cocky bastard, or could he tell that the confession had slipped past your lips in earnest? Sam gently grabbed your jaw and looked at you before pressing his mouth to yours again, sucking at your bottom lip before biting it. The dedicated rhythm of his pumping into you became as starved as his lips, and you could have sworn the wall was going to bruise your back or that someone a block away would come knocking concerned from the noise you two were making. He knew you were close again, that jagged whimper that sputtered into his mouth in gasps as you started to tighten around him. Like a vice, you milked him and he gave into you. Sam’s cock throbbed against your walls and the satisfied feeling of him filling you up brought you closer to the edge. He pressed a soft, finished and fleeting kiss to your lips, closed to pulling out of you and setting you down, utterly exhausted. But you held your thighs tightly around him, reaching between the two of you and teasing your clit until you came again.

As your second orgasm washed over you, Sam had leaned back to watch the whole scene and only bent down to flick his tongue across your nipples which sent a little aftershock through your body. You gave his arm a little teasing smack as he set you down. With shaking legs you laughed as you walked gracelessly to the shower. “Sam, I know we made a pact Freshman year that if we weren’t married by forty we’d tie the knot, but I never thought I’d want to hold you to it.”

Sitting on the bench in the shower you caught your breath, still laughing as your legs continued to shake. “This is going to be one hell of a vacation.”

“Damn straight.” You winked, reaching over to turn the shower on and meeting Sam’s hand. “You getting in?”

He looked you over and leaned against the wall, the cool water blasting some reality into your sense before it warmed up, “Now I am.” You both laughed and he got in, taking over the shower heads full flow of water. “Now let me clean you up while I catch my breath.”

Biting your lip you nodded, watching his soap covered rough hands move with tenderness back up your thighs, teasing you he pulled down the shower head. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? No one’s here but us,” He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, “You managed to walk into the shower, I clearly haven’t finished.”

Before you could protest the high pressure of the shower head was between your legs and your hands were clutching his biceps. Closing your eyes, you could only manage to helplessly say one word, maybe tomorrow you’d worry about it sounding like I love you, “Sam.”

[the-delta-42]

Shit be True

@nerdasaurus1200 I did it.

Marinette scowled as Chloe sauntered off. It was bad enough that she was behind on the final assignment and Lila was being a pain, but now Chloe had all but bragged about how she managed to get the deadline push forwards a week, meaning that she had to come up with a presentation by Friday, and it was Wednesday. Marinette hoped to set the she-demon on fire as she walked away.

Some people call it fate, when Sabrina all but rushed into the room with the annual Chloe coffee of the afternoon. Marinette paused, before a wide, and somewhat evil-looking, smile appeared on her face. She still had those Laxatives from London.

Perhaps the Queen will have some humility after this.

/*/

Alix sighed as Marinette gathered the girls in their class, as well as some more from other classes, in her room.

“Okay, everyone’s here.” Said Aurore, closing the hatch to Marinette’s room.

“Everyone’s familiar with the Satan incarnate known as Chloe Bourgeois, are they not?” Marinette asked, getting a slight scoff from Kagami.

“Who isn’t.” Said Kagami, eying the pink of the room.

“Well, you are all probably also aware of the deadline that was shunted forward a week.” Said Marinette, as the penny dropped.

“That conniving bitch!”

Everyone looked at Rose, who had three sets of hands over her mouth.

“Rose, sweetie,” Said Juleka, tenderly, “I think be talked about your potty mouth.”

Rose nodded, before Juleka, Mylene and Alya removed their hands.

“You have any other reason for us being here or can we leave?” Kagami asked, her arms folded.

Marinette reached into a draw and pulled out a medicine bag that Kagami recognised easily.

“Are those…?” Kagami asked, looking at the bag.

“Long story short, I gave Adrien a letter that had some jokes on it, but I mixed it up with my grandfather’s prescription and Adrien brought this back instead.” Said Marinette, holding the medication out to the group.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait.” Said Alix, getting to her feet, “Are you suggesting that we crush up these tablets and use them to spike Chloe’s food and drink?”

“Pretty much.” Said Marinette, the smile appearing on her face again.

“That sounds great!” Said Alix, “although, lose the smile, you look like a psychopath.”

Marinette pouted, putting the bag down.

“I can already see a problem,” Said Mirelle, getting the groups attention, “we have no idea where Chloe is and when she’s going to be there.”

“That is where you’re wrong.” Said Marinette, pulling out the schedule and pointing to yellow sections, “I keep track of everything my classmates are doing, when they are doing it and who’s with them, just like how I know that Chloe, or rather her parents, is currently playing host to a series of guests and that the catering is being done by my parents and Alya’s mother.”

“We slip in, spike Chloe’s stuff and slip out.” Said Alya, joining Marinette in the evil smile group.

“So, the plan is to spike her food, give her the runs and try not to laugh.” Said Kagami, eyes narrowed, “I’m in.”

There were similar mutterings of helping, before Aurore spoke.

“What if we did it as a gradual thing and made it happen in public event,” Said Aurore, “like in front of the whole school when we have to present our projects.”

“Ooh,” Alya winced, “Social murder of the highest degree.”

“I like it.” Said Rose, getting a pat on the head from Juleka.

“Let’s hope she isn’t wearing white.” Said Alya, as she started to make her exit, “Now, if you excuse me, I have a presentation to do for Friday.”

There were similar mutterings as everyone left, Kagami gave Marinette a once over before she left as well.

/*/

Marinette did her best to look innocent as she located all of the dishes that Chloe used throughout the day. She had told her parents she was going to use the bathroom, before she snuck into the kitchens.

Marinette did find it odd that Chloe had dedicated bowls, plates, cups and lunch boxes for each day of the week, as well as for the different times of the day. Marinette sprinkled the crushed-up laxatives into some water, before she carefully brushed it onto the dishes for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday morning. Marinette allowed herself to look satisfied as she looked at the dishes that now had the laxatives drying on them. Marinette then took the time to another portion into the coffee, tea and milk that was in the kitchen. Phase one was now complete.

Marinette discreetly left the kitchen and returned to her parents’ side.

“It’s like a maze in here.” Said Marinette, “I’m pretty sure I ended up in a closet at one point.”

Thankfully, some of the other girls were present, Alya helping her mother, Kagami with her parents, Alix, who somehow managed to get in and Rose, who was the guest of Prince Ali. Marinette looked at Rose again, noticing that she looked distressed, coupled with the look of confusion and worry that was on Prince Ali’s face, Marinette had the sinking feeling that Rose had mentioned Lila.

Marinette looked at the others, and raised her little finger up, they nodded, understanding what Marinette meant.

/*/

The second phase was the difficult part, because it required Marinette to intercept Sabrina, somehow get the coffee and/or food off her, add the laxatives and get the items back to Sabrina, all without her noticing. Thankfully, it seemed that Alya and Mylene seemed to be ahead of her.

“Sabrina, thank god we found you,” Said Alya, feigning panic, “I can’t find any of the work for our group, Mylene can’t either!”

“What?!” Sabrina gasped, placing Chloe’s coffee and food on the table and striding over to the computer, allowing Marinette to dash over, lace the drink and food with the laxatives and dash away.

Marinette bumped into Kagami as she moved away from the food and drink, a light brush against Kagami’s wrist was enough to tell her that the second phase was complete.

Now all they had to do was wait.

/*/

Marinette sighed as she got off the stage, finishing her presentation. It wasn’t until yesterday afternoon that the classes were told that they would have to go up in front of the whole school and give their presentation, sure there were rumours, but nothing was confirmed until yesterday. The only upside, for some, was that all classes were cancelled.

Marinette settled into her seat as Chloe took centre stage, Marinette noted the Chloe was wearing white, Marinette didn’t let her mind stray any further. Chloe had looked uncomfortable for the entire morning, looking worried. Marinette looked around, spotting all of the members of the fellowship of murder Chloe Bourgeois.

Chloe was grasping the podium and looked as if she was muttering not now, before she took a deep breath in.

Before Chloe could even get a word out, she sneezed and what sounded like a wet fart also sounded. Marinette had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from laughing.

Chloe had the look of horrified dread, before she could only look down, before shuffling sideways out of the room and then running down the hall.

A moment of silence swept over the school, before someone at the back spoke.

“Did she just…?”

“Shit be true.” Came another voice, before laughter erupted. Marinette was vaguely aware of her falling off her chair and face planting onto the floor. Marinette was also vaguely aware of Kim walking out of the hall to go change his clothes after wetting himself.

Adrien was torn between laughing and being disappointed in Marinette. Although, perhaps this might evoke a change in Chloe, and not just in clothes.

“What a day to be wearing white.” Said a guy to Adrien’s left.

Adrien was disappointed that Lila was absent today, this would’ve been an interesting warning.

/*/

The teachers managed to get the entire year rounded up by the end of the day.

“We know it was one of you that spiked Ms. Bourgeois’ food,” Said One of the deputy heads, “if the culprit doesn’t step forwards now, the entire year will fail and be forced to retake the year.”

Marinette looked down, she should’ve thought about the consequences before she pulled this stunt. Marinette took a deep breath, before she took a step forward. The resulting sound of multiple people stepping forward made Marinette look up.

The entire group had stepped forwards, some people who weren’t even involved in the planning had stepped forward, eventually the entire had take a step forward, with the deputy head went red with rage, he stepped towards the year and glared at all of them.

“Fine,” he sneered, “I’ll make sure all of you repeat the year.”

“No.” Said Adrien, looking at the teacher.

“What?!” The teacher snapped.

“I said no,” Said Adrien, his voice cold, “I am not sure if you are aware, but my father is one of the funders of this school, but if he heard how everyone was punished because of an accident, I am certain he wouldn’t hesitate is retracting the funding and putting towards something more worthwhile.”

“The same can be said about my mother.” Said Kagami, levelling the teacher with her coldest glare, “I am certain she would take great exception to you planned ‘punishment’.”

The teacher met Kagami’s stare, before Marinette phone went off.

“You, answer, speaker.” Said the teacher, not looking away from Kagami.

Marinette took one look at the caller ID, before she did as the teacher said.

“Marinette, little rocker!” Jagged Stone’s voice echoed through the hall, “How’re things?”

“Things are good,” Said Marinette, “Forgive me for being blunt, but I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Said Jagged, “I’m gonna need a jacket made, a Marinette original, I might even pop by your school and give everyone a surprise.”

“I’m on speak, Jagged,” Said Marinette, “and I’m not sure if that’s possible, you coming to the school, someone had an accident and a teacher is trying to pin it on a student.”

There was a moment of silence, before Jagged said, “Oh, that is so uncool. What was the accident?”

“A student shit themselves before they could give a presentation.” Came a voice.

The phone was silent, before Penny’s voice filter out, “Marinette, what was said to Jagged? He’s currently choking on laughter.”

The phrase was repeated, before the phone went silent again. Marinette could vaguely hear the sound of both Jagged and Penny dying of laughter.

“S-sorry,” Gasped Jagged, “but I remember a similar experience, it was very humbling actually.”

The teacher looked as if he was about to pop a vein, he wanted to punish the culprit, but if Damocles found out that a Celebrity passed up visiting the school because of him, he could kiss his job goodbye.

“Fine.” The teacher grit out, stalking out of the room.

“I’ll take the visit up with Principle Damocles, sort out a time and place for the visit.” Said Marinette, “I’ll call you back later to discuss what you want done for the jacket.”

“Cool, rock on, little rocker.” Said Jagged, before hanging up.

“Well, that went well.” Said Alya, as Marinette put her phone away.

“Yeah.” Said Marinette, as an Akuma went past.

“Chloe or the teacher?” A random student asked.

Teacher was the most popular reply.

/*/

“I bet Marinette would wish death on people.” Said Lila, as she tried to spin a tale, not noticing that the Class didn’t seem enamoured with her. It had been a month since the incident, and Chloe seemed to have improved.

“Oh, no,” Said Marinette, her voice going level, detached and deathly calm, “I would never wish death upon someone. I’d just wish they had explosive diaharrea and they have to give a speech and they sneeze at the start.”

Lila slowly backed away, “Is that what you do to your enemies?”

“Only the ones that cross me.” Marinette replied.

There was a moment of silence, before Chloe slammed her hands on her desk and jumped to her feet.

“THAT WAS YOU?!”

[tonysttank]

safety | s.p. | part 2

a/n: hi everyone! Part 2 finally done. I do plan on updating this story at least once a week, possibly more if I am able to, so if you would like to be put on a taglist for this fic like and reblog this so I can add you and you wont miss a part J also this is currently set pre season 2, so keep that in mind.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: brief mention of underage drinking, cussing

Read part 1 here: Part 1

Your name: submit What is this?

***

“love made the danger in you look like safety” –rupi kaur, milk and honey

  ***

Fangs, Sweet Pea, and Y/N went back into Fangs room to wait until the party started. Y/N carried in her overnight bag and set it next to the door. Sweet Pea eyed it suspiciously, wondering if Y/N and Fangs were more than just best friends, as they claimed to be. He definitely hoped not.

“So,” Y/N began, standing next to the door with her arms crossed as she looked at the two boys. “Tell me everything I need to know about the cliché town of Riverdale.” She said dramatically.

“Well, obviously you’re gonna be sticking with us and the rest of the Serpents.” Fangs told her, glancing at Sweet Pea. “We’ll take care of you and that way you won’t have anything to worry about, really.”

Sweet Pea nodded in agreeance with his friend. “The Southside stays pretty chill, unless there’s some shit going on between us and the Ghoulies.”

“The Ghoulies?” Y/N asked, a playful smile on her face.

“Yeah, that’s the rival gang here. They’re pretty nasty, and are deep into drug dealing so don’t get involved.” Fangs said, a look of distaste on his face.

“And what about school?” Y/N asked again, sitting on the bed with the two boys.

“Its trash,” Sweet Pea replied, rolling his eyes. “Don’t expect anything. The teachers don’t give a shit and neither do most of the students.” Y/N nodded in response, turning to look at him. She gave him a small smile, which he returned, and a blush crept onto her cheeks.

The three of them sat in Fangs’ bed talking, laughing, and telling stories. As they sat there happily Sweet Pea couldn’t help but steal a great number of glances at Y/N, her smile made him smile and feel warm inside. The way that this girl was making him feel after such an insanely short amount of time scared him, especially because he had no idea what she was thinking about him. He desperately hoped it was something good. Sweet Pea wasn’t the best with girls, despite what people may think. Sure, he flirted occasionally with girls at the Wyrm, and he definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he wasn’t the player everyone thought he was. Maybe it was because he was afraid of change and not the best when meeting new people, but he had definitely never had a girlfriend. As Sweet Pea looked at the gorgeous girl sitting in front of him with her legs crossed and her hand on Fangs’ shoulder as she laughed at something stupid he had just said, he felt a little hopeless. Y/N seemed perfect, and Sweet Pea definitely wasn’t. Not that it even mattered, they had only just met an hour ago, and for all he knew she could have a boyfriend back in Greendale.

Sweet Pea sighed, getting off the bed. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He told Y/N and Fangs as he walked out of the room.

Fangs looked at Y/N with a knowing smile.

“What?” She asked, moving her head back because of the sly smile on his face.

“He likes you.” Fangs said simply and with a smirk.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, scrunching her eyebrows together, not understanding what he was implying.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at you in the living room when I introduced you guys?”

“Um, no?” Y/N laughed, her tone unsure.

“He fell in love with you right out there.”

“Fangs, what the fuck are you talking about? No, he didn’t. You’re just messing with me because you know I think he’s sexy as hell.” Y/N laughed.

“Okay, first of all, ew. Second of all, yes. I know SP better than anyone else.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Fangs. I don’t believe you.”

“You’ll seeeeeeeee” Fangs said, poking her arm.

***

It was a few hours later and the annual Fogarty Christmas party was in full swing. Toni had arrived, and she and Y/N clicked immediately. Fangs had spent the majority of the party taking his friend around and introducing her to his friends and family that she hadn’t met yet. Eventually, though, he left her with his Dad, and Y/N and Paul caught up, talking mainly about her family’s upcoming move to the Southside.

On the other side of the room, Fangs, Sweet Pea, and Toni stood in a corner with Red Solo cups in their hand.

“So, you guys love her, right?” Fangs anxiously asked his friends what they thought about Y/N. He had been dying to know what they thought of her since she arrived, and now that the three of them were alone it was the perfect opportunity.

“Duh, Fangs. She’s like you, but just with a vagina.” Toni laughed, glancing over at her new friend across the room. “She’s gonna fit in just fine around here, I think.”

“Thank God,” Fangs began, a sigh of relief falling from his mouth. “I was so worried you guys wouldn’t like her, and if that happened I don’t know what I would do.”

“What do you think of her, Sweets?” Toni asked, craning her neck to look up at the tall, dark haired Serpent with her eyebrow raised.

He hesitated for a minute, not knowing if he should tell his best friends that he was already majorly crushing on Y/N or if he should keep it to himself. His hesitation brought forth a series of snickers from his two friends, who both failed in trying to mask them by taking a sip of the alcoholic drinks they harbored in their cups. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, getting somewhat defensive at their teasing nature.

“It’s okay if you like her.” Toni said, a small smile on her lips as she reached out and touched Sweet Pea’s leather clad arm.

“Who ever said anything about liking her?” Sweet Pea snapped back at her, a look of annoyance gracing his face. “I just met her like a few hours ago, so I don’t know why the fuck you guys are coming at me like I’m about to drop on one knee and marry the girl.”

“Okay, dude,” Fangs said, holding his hands up in surrender. “We were just messing with you. No need to get all hostile.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, obviously he would not be telling anyone about his building feelings for Y/N, as his friends were too immature to take him seriously and not embarrass him. “Whatever, I’m going outside for a smoke.” He said, and stomped away.

“Yikes,” Toni said to Fangs.

“I mean,” Fangs began in response, “Obviously he likes her, or he wouldn’t have just acted like that.”

“I know, but you know how he is, especially with girls and shit.” The pink haired girl replied with a shrug. Fangs was quiet, sipping on his drink thoughtfully. “You think they’d be good together?” Toni asked again after a moment of silence.

Fangs looked at her. “Honestly, I’m not sure. They could either be really bad for each other or really good.”

“I suppose only time will tell.” Toni said before downing the rest of her drink. “Wanna go chill in your room?” She asked him as she tossed her cup into the trash can nearby.

Fangs nodded and the two of them weaved through the crowd of people until they finally made it into Fangs’ room.

***

Y/N had been talking to Fangs’ dad for quite some time now, and even though she loved Paul, she desperately wanted to go hang out with her new friends. She had noticed Sweet Pea walk out the front door a little while ago and just assumed that Toni and Fangs would be with him, so after excusing herself from Paul, she went in search of the trio. As she stepped outside, she took a deep breath, her lungs thanking her for the fresh air. She turned and looked to her left, only to be met with a sulky looking Sweet Pea with a cigarette hanging from his lips. She approached him slowly, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Hey, I was wondering where you guys all went.” She said, a happy tone in her voice.

He looked over at her, taking a long drag from the cigarette in his mouth. “What are you talking about?” He said gruffly.

Y/N was taken aback slightly at his tone, since he had been so sweet to her up until this point. “Oh,” She started sheepishly. “I just thought Fangs and Toni were with you.”

He shook his head, “Don’t know where they are.”

Y/N looked at him for a minute before responding, “Are you okay?”

He immediately looked up at her with narrowed eyes, surprised at her question. Based on the way he was looking at her, Y/N immediately regretted prying.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to pry.” She said nervously, taking a step back. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

Before she could turn around to leave, Sweet Pea grabbed her hand. Y/N looked up at his dark brown eyes, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m not okay.” He said lowly, dropping his cigarette and squishing it with his boot.

“Why?” Y/N replied breathlessly, the intense and unreadable look he was giving her making her palms sweat.

Sweet Pea didn’t respond instantly, instead he stared at this gorgeous girl in front of him, completely mesmerized by her.

“Sweet Pea?” Y/N asked again, drawing him out of his daze.

“I’m not okay because I just met you, but you’re making me feel a type of way I’ve never felt before. It’s fucking terrifying, but I don’t want the feeling to go away.” He said barely above a whisper, his eyes not meeting hers.

Y/N was surprised, thinking back to what Fangs had told her earlier. She didn’t know what to say, so she just blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Why does the way I make you feel scare you?” She asked, taking a step closer to the tall boy, their bodies touching now.

“Because I’ve known you for less than 12 hours, and I already know that I would fucking die for you, Y/N.”

His words made her suck in a breath, and she stared deeply into his eyes, relishing in the intimate moment they were sharing. She didn’t know how to express the feelings she was now drowning in, so she did the only thing she felt was right in the moment.

She kissed him.

[kmp78]

FINLAND 1 - 0 - 0 🇫🇮

A QUICK COMPILATION OF ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW - AND WISH YOU NEVER DID.

1. You may call us Finland and Finns, but we call ourselves Suomi and suomalaiset.

2. Altho if you don´t mind, we would rather you did not call us anything ever. Actually if we could both pretend each other doesn´t even exist, that would be just great!

3. Yes we are a notoriously shy and reserved nation with a gigantic inferiority complex - especially when compared to our neighbor Sweden.

4. Who incidentally we loooooove beating in hockey.

5. Saimaannorppa aka Saimaa ringed seal can only be found in Finland and is highly endangered.

According to a count done in 2015, there are only about 320 individuals left, and therefore quite understandably whenever one is found dead in a fisherman´s net or by the hands of a poacher etc., it causes headlines and outrages.

6. 70% of Finland is made up of forests - that´s roughly the size of the entire area of the United Kingdom.

7. Finland was awarded the Summer Olympics for 1940, but then things got all sorts of fucked up thanks to Adolf & co., so those plans were scrapped even tho we had a brand-spanking new Olympic stadium and everything! Dammit!

Oh well, we were compensated in 1952 when we finally got the honor of hosting our only (so far) Olympic games.

8. Those 1952 Olympics were the first time Coca Cola was introduced to Finns.

9. No, we do not have polar bears.

10. We also don´t have KFC, Wendy´s or Dunkin´ Donuts.

11. Yes I am very upset about all those things mentioned above but especially about KFC.

12. Finland was the first country in Europe which gave women the right to vote (1906).

13. The Finnish language does not separate words such as “she” or “he”. We just use a gender-neutral “hän”, which means “that person”.

14. The national bird of Finland is the whooper swan.

15. Helsinki has the world´s most Northern metro system.

16. Savonlinna hosts their annual Opera Festival in a Medieval castle.

17. We are vindictive and petty as HELL. Just ask Silvio Berlusconi.

http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/155861218049/finland-chronicles-part-14

18. A Finnish person will drink approximately 129 litres of milk a year.

19. Some years ago, the word for mother (”äiti”) was voted the most beautiful word in the Finnish language.

20. Moomins are, as some of you MAY REMEMBER FROM A SPECIFIC DEBACLE FROM EARLIER THIS YEAR, from Finland and were created by OUR Miss Tove Jansson.

21. Unlike many other countries which after gaining independence tore down all statues and other remnants of their history under foreign rule, in Finland we chose to keep ours up as reminders of our past.

For example, on our main square aka the Senate Square you will find Czar Alexander II standing proudly.

22. And speaking of statues, one of the landmarks of Helsinki is Havis Amanda.

It depicts a mermaid who decides to leave the sea and walk on... well, not water.

Each year on April 30th, she is “crowned” with a cap, to represent all those who have graduated from secondary school and earned their caps.

23. As of 2010, internet access has been a legal right in Finland.

24. Do you have one of those cupboard things over your kitchen sink, the kind where you place your dishes to dry?

That was invented by a Finnish woman called Maiju Gebhard in 1945.

25. The longest word in the Finnish language is “epäjärjestelmällistyttämä­ttömyydelläänsäkäänköhän”, which loosely translates to “not even by her lack of organization, do you suppose”.

26. Angry Birds are from here.

27. Finland is also the birth place of the most successful ski jump champions of all time, Matti Nykänen.

28. After his sports career came to an end, Matti has been a permanent fixture in the tabloids with his... issues... involving alcohol abuse, domestic abuse (he even served time in prison for attempting to kill one of his many ex-wives) and an assortment of careers including stripping and now singing. 

He is also responsible for one of our most beloved and useful quotes of all time: back in the 80s when he was still jumping from towers and competing in Canada, he got into some “situations” and was sent back home as punishment. When he arrived at the airport, a journo asked him “Matti, did you drink alcohol?”, to which Matti replied “Maybe I did drink, maybe I didn´t drink”.

All bases covered then!

The man is a fucking genius.

29. There are absolutely ZERO public payphones anywhere in Finland.

30. For a very short period of time back in, Finland had a female president AND a  female Prime Minister. 

Sadly that arrangement came to an abrupt end when the Prime Minister was forced to resign over a scandal involving some sort of Iraq documents which I´m still, a decade later, completely baffled by.

31. As those who come on this blog surely know by now, Yours Truly is a passionate berry picker - and being a berry nut in Finland is easy indeed since a) we have one of the cleanest natures in the world and b) all living things you find in nature, you can keep - within reason, of course.

Usually a good principle is to keep about 100 meters distance from the nearest house. Other than that, you´re good to go!

32. People in in Northern Finland aka Lapland area have a very specific unit of measurement called the “poronkusema” which could be loosely translated to “Reindeer´s piss”. Roughly it means the distance a reindeer can walk before needing to urinate. It´s quite a long distance...

33. Our current President Sauli Niinistö is a survivor of the tragic tsunami which took place in South-East Asia on Dec 26, 2004. Over 200 000 people (including almost 200 Finnish tourists) died in one of the worst natural disasters of our time - Mr. Niinistö and his sons saved their own lives by climbing up a telephone pole and staying there for several hours.

34. In Finland October 13th is National Failure Day which aims to encourage people to share their failures and learn from them rather than hide their heads in shame and pretend all is well.

35. The REAL Santa Claus lives up in Rovaniemi and you can visit his village all year long.

36. Sheldon gave us a good laugh and an ego boost.

37. We like eating Rudolf with lingonberries and mash.

38. On some years we get A LOT of snow, but on others we get practically none. Back in 1997, in Lapland the snow reached up to 190 cm.

Incidentally I am 155 cm.

39. In the Finnish language there is an alphabet called Å which isn´t actually a part of a single Finnish word in the entire Finnish language - it is simply a remnant from our many centuries spent under Swedish rule.

40. Unesco has reported that Finland´s tap water is the cleanest in the world.

41. A handy Finnish saying: “Early bird catches the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese”.

42. For some God forsaken reason, Finland and Estonia have the same national anthem.

43. Sadly accurate these days.

44. Sadly accurate these days.

45. Rosina Heikel (1842 - 1929) was Finland´s and in fact the Nordic countries 1st female doctor.

46. When something is a failure/a dud, the common term in the English language is “a lemon”. Over here, it´s “susi”. Susi also means wolf.

47. And susi should not be confused with sisu! 

48. In Lapland you can spend your vacation in an igloo.

49. Fines for speeding are determined by the offender´s income. Basically if you earn more, you have to pay more. The highest fines have been over 100 000 €. Stay poor, kids!

50. Pamela Anderson´s grandparents were from Finland.

51. Yes we like getting our drinks on, and most of us go abroad to Tallinn to get our drinks on for a lot less €s.

52. In Lapland, the Sun never rises from November to January.

53. In reverse, the Sun never sets from June to July. We call it “The Nightless night”.

54. Finland has exactly 1 Eurovision victory under its belt.

55. In 2018 Saara Aalto will be repping us.

Please vote for us. Please?

56. Nokia became famous for their mobile phones, but originally they manufactured rubber boots.

57. We don´t dub movies or TV shows.

58. We do however sometimes give them ridiculous and extremely SPOILER ALERT-y names. For example, “The Shawshank Redemption” was translated to “Rita Hayworth - Key to escape”.

I mean... C´MOOOOON!

59. Sometimes that´s all you can do.

60. Simo Häyhä aka “White Death” was one of the deadliest snipers of all time. During a 3 month stretch of the Winter War, he shot roughly 200 Russian soldiers before getting shot in the face himself. He survived and lived to be 96.

61. We don´t use the 1 and 2 cent coins. You CAN try paying with them as they of course are legal currency, but there are no guarantees you´ll get very far.

62. Feb 14th may be a day for lovers for the rest of the world, but we know it as “Friend´s Day”.

63. Tipping is not (thankfully) a part of the Finnish culture.

64. The guy longing for Sven in Titanic (the coat dude) was portrayed as a Swede, but was actually a Finn called Jari Kinnunen.

65. Karelian pies with egg butter are the best thing ever.

66. Märket island which is situated between Finland and Sweden had to have the border lines twisted a bit because the Finns who built that lighthouse, accidentally built it on the wrong side...

67. While often named as one of the 5 Scandinavian countries, Finland isn´t technically even a part of Scandinavia: we ARE however a part of the Nordic countries.

68. If you are invited to a Finnish sauna, you are expected to go nude.

69. Finnish armed forces are mandatory for men but voluntary for women.

70. Moomin mugs are peculiarly popular especially among Asian tourists. They can sometimes pay even thousands for rare ones.

71. We never had vikings, but there is one viking tale about a princess called Skjalv, daughter of the Finnish King Froste (those aren´t even Finnish names...), who was stolen as war loot to Sweden but ended up strangling her captor with a gold chain. 

72. Our 4th president was Kyösti Kallio, who was forced to resign from office after the Winter War on December 19th 1940. On that same day he was about to step onto a train to take him back home for retirement, when during his final official ceremony at Helsinki Railway Station, in front of his soldiers and while the orchestra played, he suffered a fatal heart attack and died right there in front of everyone. Legend says he collapsed into the arms of our greatest war hero and later president himself, Marshall C.G.E. Mannerheim (seen in the white hat next to President Kallio).

73. Marshall Mannerheim is the only person in Finnish history who has been rewarded that particular military honor. In fact, he is and forever will remain the only person who has the title “Finland´s Marshall”, an honor bestowed upon him for his services to his home country during Finland´s tumultuous early years of independence.

A few years ago he was voted by the Finns themselves as the most important Finnish person of all time.

74. In June 1942, Adolf Hitler came to Finland to pay his respects to Marshall Mannerheim on his 75th birthday. As a little “souvenir” for future generations, the sneaky Finns recorded a snippet of his and Mannerheim´s private conversation.

It is the only known recording of Hitler speaking with a calm, normal voice, as he was very particular about only being filmed while screaming and ranting his ideologies.

75. Roughly 3 million tourists visit Finland each year and I think at least 2 500 000 of them are always going exactly where I´m going too.

76. We like to make things hard for foreigners.

77. We don´t have any mountains.

78. But we have lakes. We have a shit ton of lakes. 187 888 lakes to be precise.

79. FYI

80. All our days end with -tai (Monday = maanantai, Tuesday = tiistai etc.), except for Wednesday. Wednesday is called keskiviikko.

81. We have a lot of free time.

82. J. R. R. Tolkien used the Finnish national epoch the Kalevala as inspiration for the languages in the Lord of the Rings saga.

83. The St. Louis Arch was designed by a Finn called Eero Saarinen.

84. Every summer we arrange what is called Kaljakellunta aka “Beer float” which pretty much just consists of taking a floatie and a case of beer and... well, that´s about it.

85. If you want to enhance your sauna experience, you can use a birch whisk.

86. The bubble chair was designed by a Finnish man called Eero Aarnio.

87. Thursdays are the “official” pea soup and pancakes day all over Finland.

88. Finns love queuing.

89. Life expectancy for men is 78 years and for women 84 years.

90. In Tornio you can play golf in two countries:

http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/155901150914/finland-chronicles-part-15

91. Finns invented the so-called Molotov´s cocktail.

92. All people in Finland must pay a TV tax even if they do not they own a TV.

93.  We celebrate Christmas on the 24th of December.

94. Finns love salmiakki aka salty licorice.

I don´t, btw.

95. Finland is one of the few countries in Europe which has not banned sex with animals - and some actually take advantage of that loophole...

http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/156161829244/finland-chronicles-part-21

http://kmp78.tumblr.com/post/156257574544/finland-chronicles-part-23

96. Armi Kuusela won the 1st ever Miss Universe pageant in 1952.

97. In 2006, Conan O´Brian did a sketch about looking like our then-president Tarja Halonen and it ballooned into a huge movement.

98. Weeeeell...

99. On every Independence day, the current president hosts a party at his residence for about 2 000 dignitaries, celebs, politicians etc. We riff raffers sit at home in our sweatpants and watch it on TV with some nachos and snarky comments.

100. MONTY PYTHON KNOWS. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SUOMI, AND THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING. 

Despite you reeeeally getting on my nerves SO MUCH and SO OFTEN, I still love you. 💙 💙 💙

[bythebigcoolingtower]

I Wrote a Simpsons Script...

Over the last couple of months, when I’ve had time, I’ve tried to write something that was not only better than what’s currently being produced but could also find a place lower down the seasons. I don’t think I’ve been successful but I thought I’d share my endeavors for an important reason: It made me realize how hard coming up with an idea, writing and editing a script for a cartoon was. For some background, I write scripts for films part time and try to sell them, so far (obviously, because I wouldn't shut up about it if I had) I’ve not been able too (partly because it’s tough to sell scripts in England and partly because I don’t have the money/time/resources to make them independently) but I do have some experience in shaping a narrative, the structure of scripts and other techniques, so I’ve not walked into this blind. Whether it’s good or not is your opinion, seriously, feel free to criticize it, if you think it’s bad, tell me, I’m a grown man, I can take criticism. If you like it, that’s allowed too, but the main question is this: What season do you think it’d fit into?

Be warned, it’s 30 pages on Word so it’s a long read, it’s your choice, you don’t have to. For reference: Italics are description, bold is who’s talking, normal is dialogue, (Beside name is ‘Off Screen’, under name is the way the line is delivered).

(Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own the rights to the Simpsons, this is a non-profit idea and simply a writing exercise to keep me amused, so I believe it falls within fair use, please don’t sue! If you want me to take it down, I will.)  

OPENING CREDITS

COUCH GAG: The family sit on the couch, Maggie is a baby’s bottle, Lisa a plastic cup, Bart a glass, Marge a wine glass and Homer a beer mug. They are then filled with drink, Maggie with milk, Lisa with orange juice, Bart with Buzz cola, Marge with Wine and Homer with Duff.

EXT. CHARITY FUN FAIR – DAY

We move down from a clear blue sky past a sign, ‘CHARITY FUN FAIR: WHERE ONLY THE CHAIRTY IS OBLIGATORY’, down into the park which has been taken over by various things.

There’s a puppet show, some games and a stage. It all looks very cost effective, as if they wanted to bare minimum to maximize profits.

Walking around are the Simpson’s, looking a bit bored, except Marge who’s seems disappointed. Lisa holds a brochure about the fair.

MARGE

Fifteen dollars for cotton candy, what charity would charge such high prices?

Lisa consults the brochure.

LISA

‘Quimby retirement homes’.

(she reads more)

He wants a place in Tobago.

BART

I thought he already embezzled funds for that?

LISA

No that was for his golf club membership in Bermuda.

HOMER

(wistful)

I wish I could retire.

BART

What’s stopping you?

HOMER

Burns had us sign contracts in perpetuity in exchange for a second ice machine.

STAGE, CHARITY FUN FAIR – LATER

Quimby is on stage, along with a few others, and has a big smile on his face. Something sits under a sheet on a table beside him. He approaches the microphone to address the crowd, which includes the Simpsons.

QUIMBY

Thank you ladies and gentleman for your tremendous charity. I’m one step closer to getting a holiday home in Trinidad.

There’s scattered applause, murmurs. Quimby doesn’t care, carries on as an assistant walks over with a bucket.

QUIMBY

To show my appreciation I will now draw a winner from this bucket of parking tickets, that’s worth more than the prize in question, this-

Quimby unveils the prize, a toaster oven, has to be told by his assistant what it is.

QUIMBY

Toaster oven, I didn’t want as a gift.

No applause this time, just coughs and confused looks. Quimby draws a ticket.

QUIMBY

Marge Simpson.

The family react with little enthusiasm. Scattershot applause as they move up onto the stage.

QUIMBY

(to Lisa)

Congratulations, Marge.

He shakes Lisa’s hand, she can’t be bothered to tell him, it’s over quickly enough.

QUIMBY

(to his Assistant)

Bundle the cash, my flight leaves in an hour.

Quimby and his assistant leave, the stage is vacated by all but the Simpsons and a reporter, TOM, 20′s, The crowd disperses.

TOM

This is headline stuff, can I get a quote?

LISA

This is your headline? I thought you reported on real news, like your stories on the upcoming winter.

TOM

That was a Game of Thrones review.

LISA

Oh.

TOM

We haven’t printed a real news story since the town got high speed broadband. No one reads the paper anymore.

MARGE

Well, it would be nice to be named in the paper in a context other than: “we apologize for erroneously reporting the death of Homer Simpson”.

TOM

(to Homer)

Oh hey, I thought you looked familiar.

HOMER

Can you print a different picture of me this time? That old one makes me look fat, I’m portly.

TOM

Sure, we’ll send our new guy round later.

LISA

I thought Fred was your photographer?

TOM

He was until 7/11 poached him. They offered him something we couldn’t.

BART

Job satisfaction?

TOM

A wage.

(pause)

Oh and that.

INT. DINING ROOM, SIMPSON HOUSE – NIGHT

The family are sat around the table eating.

HOMER

This is great pasta honey.

MARGE

It’s Shepard’s pie.

HOMER

Do you want the compliment or not?

Moe enters, camera in hand.

MOE

Hey everyone.

HOMER

Hey Moe-

(sees camera)

Are you the Shoppers new photographer?

Moe looks around, stutters.

MOE

Uh... yeah... I sure am.

LISA

How did you get in?

Moe panics slightly.

MOE

Gather round, picture time.

There’s a knock on the door.

MARGE

I should get that.

Marge walks past Moe, who stands awkwardly at the top of the room, to the front door.

DOOR

Marge opens the door to CLIVE BREWER,  38, average looking, gentle.

CLIVE

I’m Clive Brewer, from the Shopper.

MARGE

If your-

Marge turns right to find Moe has gone, then left to see an open window at the back of the living room.

MARGE

Never mind. Please, come in.

DINING ROOM

Marge shuts the front door and walks Clive into the room, then sits back down.

CLIVE

Hi, it’s nice to meet you all. I thought it’d be good to have the toaster oven in the picture.

HOMER

The what?

CLIVE

The prize you won.

Nothing, the family don’t remember it.

CLIVE

Earlier today.

Nope.

CLIVE

It’s the reason I’m here.

HOMER

You should probably just take the picture.

CLIVE

Alright, big smiles.

The family bunch up, Clive takes the picture.

THE SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER

HEADLINE: LOCAL FAMILY FILLS PICTURE SPACE

SUB STORY: FRED PROMOTED TO ASSISTANT MANAGER

INT. GROCERY STORE – THE NEXT DAY (MORNING)

The family are out shopping, Marge reads the newspaper, very proud that they’re on the front.

MARGE

What a great picture, we’ll have to ask Clive for a copy, he’s so talented and nice.

HOMER

Pfft, he’s no nicer than me, Carl, Lenny or Moe.

MARGE

Last week you told me Moe throw a mug at you.

HOMER

(laughs)

Oh, honey, that was only because I hit Lenny in the head with a pool cue to stop him biting Carl after he’d bruised Lenny’s arm in Moe’s annual pain Olympics.

Marge stares at him, doesn’t like any of that.

EXT. SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER – LATER ON

The shopper is housed in a wide, one storey building, Marge’s station wagon is parked outside.

INT. FOYER, SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER – SAME TIME

Marge carries Maggie with her as she stands at the reception desk, a woman, FELICITY, walks over to her.

FELICITY

Hi, can I help?

MARGE

I was looking for Clive Brewer, the photographer?

FELICITY

He should be at his desk. We can look after your baby while you talk to him. We’re running a day care to add a little extra cash until our readership picks up.

MARGE

You are? I didn’t know that?

FELICITY

You didn’t? We advertise it all the time-

(pause)

Oh.

OFFICE – MOMENTS LATER

Marge enters what should be a loud bustling office, full of journalists and writers, but instead finds around twenty very unenthusiastic employees, mainly students, not doing much at all.

Clive stands out like a sore thumb, not least because he’s stationed by a window with the sun is beaming through it.

Marge walks over, Clive sees her, smiles.

CLIVE

Marge, hi, I assume you’re here because we referred to Homer as a “buffoon” in the article.

MARGE

Well, he is really more of an oaf but I was actually hoping I could get a copy of the picture you took. It’d be nice to have one were Homer isn’t giving the kids rabbit ears.

She takes out her phone, opens up the picture folder and shows Clive several photo’s as she’s described. The shadow on the wall behind the kids makes them look like characters from ‘Life in Hell’.

MARGE

I just don’t get why people find it funny.

Clive laughs. Stops when he really hears what Marge said.

CLIVE

Sure, I’ll print you off a copy.

Tom, walking past at the time, overhears the conversation.

TOM

The printer here doesn’t work.

CLIVE

It doesn’t?

TOM

No, wasn’t this explained when you were given the tour?

CLIVE

I was supposed to have had a tour?

Tom looks around.

TOM

(covering)

No.

He walks off. Clive sighs.

CLIVE

I guess I can’t print you off a copy.

Marge can see his disappointment, smiles trying to perk him up.

MARGE

Don’t worry, we have a printer a home, you can bring the picture there.

CLIVE

(trying)

Sounds like a plan.

EXT. PARK – THE SAME TIME

Bart, Lisa and an annoyed looking Homer walk around the park, it’s barely been cleaned since yesterday, or the days before that.

HOMER

How many days do I have to do this for?

LISA

Dr. Hibbert said you need to walk for at least an hour a day for the next three months.

HOMER

Three months! What’s the point?

LISA

(concerned)

Dad, he said in your condition you could die at any moment.

HOMER

(grumbling)

That can’t come soon enough.

Lisa gives him an off look, concerned but confused as to whether Homer actually understands.

BART

Why am I here?

LISA

You were supposed to be walking Santa’s Little Helper.

BART

Oh, yeah.

(pause)

I’m sure he’s getting plenty of fresh air.

CUT TO: The basement of the Simpson house, pitch black, SLH barking incessantly.

BACK TO: Homer and the kids walking, Lisa now concerned by the amount of rubbish about.

LISA

Did they even bother cleaning up from yesterday?

They pass a crumpled sign: 2017 CHARITY DRIVE. QUIMBY WANTS A PORSCHE.

LISA

Or last year?

HOMER

Lisa, fly tipping is a part of nature, ever since the caveman.

LISA

It’s destroying the natural environment of the animals.

BART

Looks like there adapting to it.

We pan across the rubbish, which the animals are using, including a family of raccoons operating the toaster oven.

LISA

Well, it’s not right, animals deserve to live with the same rights as us, nature deserves to flourish and not be cluttered by plastics that should be being recycled. I’m going to start a group to clean this place up.

Homer gets down to Lisa’s level, puts his hand on her shoulder to calm her.

HOMER

Lisa, is this the type of thing were you ask me to join and I keep saying no and you just keep asking and interrupting while I’m trying to drink beer and watch TV, until I eventually cave?

LISA

(shyly)

Yes.

HOMER

Then consider me in.

INT. KITCHEN, SIMPSON HOUSE – A LITTLE LATER

Marge carries Maggie into the kitchen, leading Clive through with her.

She puts Maggie in the high chair.

MARGE

Take a seat, I think the printer’s in the basement.

Clive takes a seat at the table, takes his bag off as he sits, from that he takes out his laptop and opens it on the table.

Marge walks to the basement door, opens it, SLH rushes out.

MARGE

Hmmm.

She disappears downstairs. Clive begins clicking through his laptop, trying to find the image.

He goes through various folders, opens one that he hadn’t meant too, it’s full of beautiful shots, landscapes of parks, woods and forests.

Clive opens one, a melancholic look upon his face. Maggie begins laughing.

Turning, Clive sees that it’s the picture Maggie is amused by.

CLIVE

You like it huh?

(pause)

Yeah, it’s alright.

Marge can be heard coming back up.

CLIVE

Let’s just keep it between us.

He backs out of the folder, Maggie stops laughing.

Marge re-enters, carrying a really old looking printer.

MARGE

Here we go. We only use it when Lisa wants to print out protest leaflets. Luckily she’s boycotting paper right now.

CLIVE

I’m sure it’ll work fine.

Marge puts it on the top, plugs it in, it comes on immediately. She hands Maggie the bottle she’s reaching for.

CLIVE

It’s connected. Here-

From his bag Clive takes a ream of paper, hands it to Marge.

MARGE

Do you always carry so much paper?

CLIVE

Oh, I took it from the office.

(pause)

I mean, there not actually paying me.

Marge shrugs, puts the paper in. Clive clicks on the picture, selects print, the process begins immediately.

He backs out of the folder, leaving him on the page with all the folders on.

Quickly the picture prints, Marge is very pleased with it.

MARGE

What a great shot. You really do have a talent.

Clive is non committal, modest.

CLIVE

Maybe.

MARGE

I’ve got the perfect frame for it too, hold there.

Marge leaves Clive sat with Maggie again, she sees the situation, ‘accidentally’ drops her bottle on the laptop, the printer starts up again.

Clive turns, looks panicked once he sees that it’s printing the pictures from earlier.

CLIVE

What are the odds?

One after another they print, Clive tries to grab them as quickly as he can, to hide them but can’t. Maggie laughs.

MARGE (O.S)

It fits perfectly.

Marge enters to see Clive stuffing a couple of the printed pictures into the toaster, she looks suspiciously at him, wondering what he’s up to.

At that moment the printer jams. The final fully printed picture flies out, lands at Marge’s feet.

Putting down the family portrait, she picks up the printed picture, a glorious shot of the early evening.

MARGE

Clive, did you take this.

Clive looks embarrassed, by both his actions and Marge seeing his work.

CLIVE

(nervous)

Yeah.

MARGE

It’s so expressive-

She moves around, fishes another from the oven.

MARGE

They all are. Why would you hide them?

CLIVE

I guess because they remind me of what I had, lost.

MARGE

Please, sit down, tell me.

Clive takes one of the pictures from the toaster, gives it to Maggie, then sits down.

INT. GYM, SCHOOL – 30 YEARS EARLIER

An eight year old Clive sits on a stall.

CLIVE (O.S)

My passion for photography came from my dad.

A photographer stands behind an old camera, readies the shot, beside him is Clive’s dad, DANIEL BREWER, 36, taking multiple pictures.

CLIVE (O.S)

He was always taking pictures of me, the whole family.

MONTAGE - OVER THE FOLLOWING YEARS

Daniel takes pictures of Clive in the bathroom, sleeping, at school, playing sports, as he has his first kiss, first date and even through the window of his first ‘adult sleep over’.

CLIVE (O.S)

I just started doing the same.

Clive takes pictures of Daniel in the bathroom, sleeping, at work, watching sports on TV, watching Clive play sports whilst Clive plays and while Daniel is taking pictures of Clive.

MARGE (O.S)

Are you two still close?

CLIVE (O.S)

We haven’t been close for a while.

EXT. TRAIN TRACKS – DAY, 20 YEARS AGO

Daniel stands in the middle of the tracks, camera ready.

CLIVE (O.S)

He was trying to take a picture of the front of a train.

A train can be heard approaching, Daniel takes his stance.

The train approaches from behind Daniel.

EXT. FUNERAL, CEMETERY – A COUPLE WEEKS LATER

Daniel’s headstone is a camera, his picture is a picture of him taking a picture of the picture taker, presumably Clive.

The family weeps in sadness, as does a now eighteen year old Clive. Still, he continues to take pictures.

CLIVE (O.S)

After that I vowed to take my time in my work and for a while that went well.

INT. HIGH END MAGAZINE COMPANY – TEN YEARS LATER

A happy Clive, now twenty eight, shows off the negatives of his work to his boss, MR. HARTFORD, 44.

He gets the thumbs up, which he takes a picture of.

CLIVE (O.S)

But it didn’t last, with smart phones, people wanted shots quicker and I just didn’t work fast enough.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE – TIME LAPSE, OVER 12 HOURS

Clive arrives in the empty town square to take a picture of a new sculpture, he takes his stance and waits.

Over the course of the next twelve hours, hundreds of photographers, selfie taking tourists and interested locals take pictures.

There’s also a protest about the statue, people with banners and plaques turn up, then the police arrive to stop them, there’s a conversation and then the police join in with the protesters.

Lastly a work crew turns up and removes the statue, Clive is alone again, finally takes the picture.

INT. KITCHEN, SIMPSON HOUSE – THIRTY MINUTES LATER

Marge has sat and listened, she and Clive have also drunk coffee in the interim. Maggie is asleep, holding the picture Clive gave her.

CLIVE

Eventually the work began to dry up, now I’m wherever here is, taking pictures for nothing.

MARGE

Clive, I’m so sorry.

He sits upset, but he’s been like this for a while so it’s almost normal to him.

CLIVE

It’s not the work or money I miss, it’s the feeling. That passion I used to have when I was an eight year old, like there was nothing more important.

(sigh)

I wish I could capture that again.

HALLWAY – AT THAT MOMENT

The door bursts open, an impassioned Lisa enters as SLH bolts out the house.

LISA

(loud, excitable)

Mom, get the printer, were making flyers!

EXT. PARK – TWO DAYS LATER (MORNING)

Lisa has organized an impressive line-up, along with the family, her and Bart’s school classes, Skinner, Willie and Grampa, Jasper and the old Jewish man. Each has a rubbish picker, bag and hi-vis jacket.

Skinner looks annoyed and anxious, walks over to Lisa, who’s reading through her to-do list.

SKINNER

Exactly how many more favors does the school owe you? I feel this is bordering on absurd, especially since you already hijacked the band to play for sick children at the hospital.

LISA

Your right, maybe I have been abusing my power.

Skinner relaxes, but Lisa isn’t done.

LISA

Although I’m quite sure the building shouldn’t be held together with driftwood and crazy glue.

All Skinner’s good thoughts have gone, he groans.

SKINNER

Young lady, I’d like to see you run a school on two hundred and seventy five dollars a month without resorting to crazy glue and criminality.

LATER ON THAT DAY

Everyone is picking rubbish up, rather un-enthusiastically, but slowly the park is looking a little better.

Sat under a tree, watching, is Clive he eats a toasted sandwich. Marge walks over to him.

MARGE

Clive-

(sees the sandwich)

Where’d you get that?

CLIVE

A raccoon gave it too me.

MARGE

Oh.

(pause)

Is any of this inspiring you?

CLIVE

It’s great to watch your daughter care so much about nature and boss around her principal but it feels like something’s missing, I can’t put my finger on it.

Lisa, seeing Marge and Clive talking, has come over.

LISA

Mr. Brewer, maybe joining in will inspire you, being involved with the experience.

Clive stands up, sandwich in hand.

CLIVE

Your right, it’d certainly be more helpful than me just sitting around. Hand me a stick.

In comes a stick, held by Homer, his bag and jacket in the other hand.

HOMER

Have mine.

Clive takes it, Homer runs off, drops the rest of his stuff.

LISA

Dad!

He walks back to Lisa.

HOMER

Lisa, honey, I wouldn’t leave unless it was very important.

LISA

But-

Homer snatches Clive’s sandwich-

HOMER

Yoink!

Then runs off.

CUT TO: Close up, Homer, moments later. He laughs to himself.

HOMER

Got away clean.

He looks around, finds he’s back in the park, gear on. He stares at his legs, accusingly.

HOMER

(to his legs)

I said go to Moe!

Homer looks back up, finds Moe stood there, in full gear.

HOMER

Moe!

(confused)

What are you doing here?

Moe laughs, looks away, remembering.

MOE

Well, you remember the other day, when I was in your house?

He looks back to Homer, who’s gone, his stuff on the floor.

Moe sighs, looks away, finds Homer stood the other side of him, chastising his legs, he looks up.

HOMER

Moe!

(confused)

What are you doing here?

TIME LAPSE – OVER THE NEXT FEW HOURS

Lisa, Clive and the rest pick up what rubbish they can, but it’s a losing battle.

First the other kids leave at three o’clock with the school day over, then the old folks at four being called back for bedtime, then Skinner and Willie leave.

Now with only Clive and the family they face other residents openly fly tipping as they clean up. For everything cleaned three more things are dropped.

It hits early evening, everyone bar Lisa is exhausted.

7:10PM

Maggie is asleep on Marge’s shoulder, even she is yawning.

MARGE

Lisa, I think we should stop for today, we need food and rest. We’ll come back tomorrow.

Lisa puts another can in the bag, knows that Marge is right but has a hard time accepting it.

LISA

(sadly)

But we aren’t even close to half way done and Clive-

She looks across the park, to the tree Clive was sat under earlier, where he is now, grabbing his stuff.

MARGE

It’ll be better tomorrow.

Lisa well’s up.

LISA

But if we don’t do the work today, there won’t be a tomorrow.

In goes another can, her bag splits, the rubbish falls out and she bursts into tears.

The family stand, as sad as Lisa but unable to help her.

From the tree Clive can hear Lisa, he turns and sees her, his eyes ache over her pain, he can feel his own, the rejection, the loss of his father, in the pit of his stomach.

Grabbing his camera, Clive steels up, he aims and takes a picture.

INT. OFFICE, SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER – LATER THAT NIGHT

ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN: The picture of Lisa crying, rubbish at her feet, family beside her. The headline reads: TOWN MUST CLEAN UP ACT.

Alone, Clive writes the story himself.

PRINTING ROOM – LATER

The paper runs through the machines, Clive snaps the process.

At the end of the process, the papers are bundled, Clive snaps it.

INT. BACK OF VAN – EARLY MORNING

Paperboys throw bundles of the paper onto the street for waiting sellers, Clive is in the van handing the papers to them and, of course, taking pictures as he does.

EXT. STREET – MORNING

A young paperboy rides his bike quickly, throwing papers to the doors.

Behind him Clive runs, struggling to keep up and take pictures at the same time.

INT. BEDROOM, CLIVE’S APARTMENT – A LITTLE LATER

Clive sleeps, exhausted, his finger on the resting on the button of his camera which faces him.

INT. LISA’S ROOM, SIMPSON HOUSE – 7:30AM

Marge is waking Lisa up, but Lisa is reluctant.

LISA

(sleepy)

Do I have to get up?

MARGE

No, honey but at least read the paper first.

This intrigues Lisa, she gets up fully and is handed the paper by Marge.

Her eyes light up seeing the headline and picture she reads the story below. The sub headline is: FRED FIRED. PAGES 3-12.

LISA

Do you think it made a difference?

MARGE

I wouldn’t have woke you up if it hadn’t.

EXT. PARK – 9AM

The whole town, inspired by the picture or perhaps feeling really guilty for making an eight year old cry, are out picking up rubbish.

Lisa watches over them, helping herself.

Clive enters the park, having just got back up, Lisa spots him immediately.

LISA

Oh Clive, thank you!

She gives Clive a hug, he half smiles, a little embarrassed.

CLIVE

Wow, I didn’t think it would have so much of an impact.

LISA

Then why did you do it?

CLIVE

Because I didn’t want you to give up, I wanted you to keep that passion, that fight that I lost.

LISA

Do you think you’ll rediscover yours?

CLIVE

Maybe in time, but right now I want to take pictures to show what can be achieved with a passionate spirit.

PICTURE MONTAGE – OVER THE REST OF THE DAY

We start with a picture of Lisa stood in front of a large group of helpers. Lisa working within that group.

Moe, Homer and the other barflies picking up cans and bottle’s of beer.

Skinner picking up bricks. Skinner putting the bricks in his car.

Homer picking up the toaster oven. The raccoons fighting Homer for the toaster oven. Marge, Bart and Maggie helping Homer take the toaster oven. The raccoons crying.

Jimbo, Kearney and Dolph putting together a bin. Then putting Milhouse in the bin.

Shots of people cleaning, the park changing and eventually being clean.

Finally the whole town together in a photograph, in the background is a plane.

5PM

The town talks as it begins to disperse, rolling past the park is a black car, Quimby’s. The window rolls down.

INT. BACK, QUIMBY’S CAR – CONTINUOUS

Quimby, very well tanned, takes off his sunglasses to look at the scene in the park.

QUIMBY

Someone find out what’s happening.

One of his bodyguards exits the car.

Through the window we watch the bodyguard, who is dressed top half in a suit and bottom half in shorts and sandals from the holiday, walk over to Carl and talk to him. He walks back to the car, leans in at the window.

BODYGUARD

Apparently the town came together to clean the park and Lenny’s having an ice cream party, can we go?

QUIMBY

No you moron, but this park thing, that we can exploit.

(thinks)

How much money do we have left from the holiday?

BODYGUARD

Around three hundred dollars sir.

QUIMBY

Perfect.

EXT. SPRINGFIELD MUSEUM OF ART – THE NEXT NIGHT

Lit up and looking good the museum has a stream of patrons entering it.

ENTRANCE – SAME TIME

A doorman stands selling tickets, beside him there’s a sign:

TONIGHT – CLIVE BREWER EXHIBITION (ADULTS: $30, KIDS $20)

TOMORROW – PICTURES FROM YESTERDAYS EXHIBIT.

INT. MAIN, SPRINGFIELD MUSEUM OF ART – SAME TIME

Everyone in town is about, looking at the various pictures on the wall, a photographer, FRED, takes pictures of them.

Lisa stands looking at one of the pictures holding a program from the evening, Clive walks over to her.

CLIVE

What do you think?

LISA

They’re so good, I’m really impressed.

CLIVE

I’m glad you like them. Honestly I’ve never had a crowd this big for my work before, where’s the money going to?

Lisa consults the program.

LISA

It’s going to pay off Mayor Quimby’s tax bill.

CLIVE

Well, I would complain and say something like “if only you could clean up the corruption in the mayors office like you did the park”, but he did pay me two hundred dollars for tonight.

MAN (O.S)

How would you like to make twice that a year?

Clive turns. His old boss Mr. Hartford is stood there.

CLIVE

Mr. Hartford? What are you doing here?

MR. HARTFORD (MAN)

We were in town to do a story on small town mayoral corruption, until Mayor Quimby paid me fifty dollars not too. Then we saw the sign, figured we’d see your work.

CLIVE

And?

MR. HARTFORD

It’s impressive, so how about coming back on staff?

CLIVE

Last time we spoke you said as long your daughter had a smart phone you wouldn’t need me?

MR. HARTFORD

(laughing)

Yes, what a four years it’s been.

(serious)

Unfortunately Stephanie has gone from a cute twelve year old to a sullen sixteen year old.

Across the room STEPHANIE, 16, is sat on the floor, headphones on, in her own world.

MR. HARTFORD

The only pictures she takes now are of herself looking unhappy. I need a true photographer, I need you Clive.

CLIVE

Okay, but not for four hundred pound a year.

MR. HARTFORD

How about four hundred pounds a day?

CLIVE

Deal.

He almost snaps Mr. Hartford’s hand off shake on it, which Hartford doesn’t quite understand.

MR. HARTFORD

(thinking)

Did I say a day or a month?

LISA

A day.

MR. HARTFORD

Darn it.

(sighs)

Nevermind, I probably fire you in a couple weeks anyway, I fire everyone eventually.

Mr. Hartford walks off.

MR. HARTFORD (O.S)

Stephanie, you’re fired!

LISA

I guess this means you’re leaving?

CLIVE

If it’s any consolation I probably would have left anyway, the paper hired Fred back.

Fred walks over at the same time.

LISA

Are the rumours true, Fred?

FRED

(staunch)

No comment.

He takes a picture of Lisa and Clive, then leaves.

CLIVE

Thank you, Lisa. You’ve given me a taste of the passion I had for photography and a chance to have another go at making it into a career.

LISA

Well, thank you for helping me clean the park.

CLIVE

I have something to give you.

From his pocket Clive takes a picture, an image of train tracks, hands it to Lisa.

CLIVE

This is the last picture my dad ever took. I want you to have it.

LISA

Clive, I can’t take this.

CLIVE

Why not? It’s just a copy.

LISA

Oh.

QUIMBY (O.S)

Yes, alright now.

Lisa, Clive, and the rest of the patrons turn to see Quimby at a hastily set up mic stand.

QUIMBY

I’d like to welcome everyone, from art lovers to lovers of free food-

Cut to Homer holding two bowls of food that was supposed to be for everyone.

QUIMBY (CONT’D)

To this celebration of our town and it’s ‘do it anyway’ spirit. And now, welcome the man who took the pictures you see here tonight, without permission, Clive Brewer.

Clive looks surprised, walks over to the mic, applauded.

CLIVE

Wow, what a reception, but your applause should be for Lisa, she’s the one who inspired all of this.

He waves Lisa over, drops the mic stand to her size and moves away from it. She gets even greater applause.

LISA

I believe strongly that this town can be truly great if we all work together and to better ourselves each and every day.

She looks across to where Clive was, he’s gone, she looks back at the crowd, all of whom are fully engaged by her words.

Taking a deep breathe she continues on.

EXT. SPRINGFIELD MUSEUM OF ART – SAME TIME

Clive watches Lisa through the window, smiles, takes a picture of her, then moves on.

CREDITS

We see Clive’s journey back to his job, then his work on the job.

We end on three pictures. The first of the front of a train. The second the back end of that same train and the third a picture taken of Clive by a nurse as he lays in a full body cast in a hospital. Big smile on his face.

END

[yuniesan]

Girl Meets Season 5 - Episode 14 - Girl Meets Childhood Memories

Synopsis: What can you expect when you’re finishing high school? For Riley her entire world will turn upside down and picking up the pieces will bring her and her friends closer together.

[Previous Episodes]

Episode 14 - Girl Meets Childhood Memories

It was the night before they left for their vacation and everyone was sleeping over at the Matthews house. The guys were all going to sleep in the living room, while the girls slept in Riley’s room. They were going to spend New Year’s at a ski resort, although not the same one from freshman year, because her mother told them no to that.

“So what should we do until we all fall asleep, because it’s still early right now,” Maya said as she sat down on the bay window. Josh sitting next to her while Riley sat on the other side with Lucas at her feet, his head on her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Oh I know,” Zay said standing up. “What about we each say what was our most embarrassing childhood memory, or better yet have someone else pick it for us.”

“Zay how would that work if the only person you’ve known from childhood is me,” Lucas said before he smiled. “Wait I take it back I want to tell you about Zay’s most embarrassing childhood moment.”

“Why did I have to open my big mouth,” Zay said before face planting onto Riley’s bed making her laugh.

“Okay so when Zay was six, his grandmother baked a batch of cookies for the annual fair that happens in town. She was going to sell them,” Lucas started.

“Oh is this why he only gets one cookie,” Riley said smiling down at Lucas.

“It’s a part of the reason,” Zay said interrupting them.

“No, it’s one hundred percent the reason, you see Zay over here loves his grandmother’s cookies so much that he gorged himself on them, and when I say gorged he dipped them in milk and ate fifty out of one of the boxes, and then promptly began to throw up on all of the other batches of cookies. His grandmother was livid and they had to take him to the hospital because he accidentally poured an entire bottle of vanilla extract into his milk but he had thought that the cookies were the reason for all of the flavor and kept eating them. They had to pump his stomach because he had eaten so much.”

“I thought I would hate the cookies after that but grandma made me another batch a few weeks later and started the one cookie tradition soon after that,” Zay said smiling. “I love my grandmother very very much.”

“We know, and we’re glad you have her in your life,” Riley said smiling. “Oh can I be next?”

“Go ahead, but who are you going to talk about?” Josh said but the smile on Riley’s face made him want to get up and leave.

“I actually have a story about the first time Maya and Josh met,” she said bouncing up and down.

“No,” Maya said looking at her.

“Yes,” Riley said before looking at everyone else. “The reason they both hate this story is because they had wanted to forget, but I remember it like it was yesterday, because Josh had been visiting while my grandparents went on a second honeymoon. Maya had been curious about what it meant, only to force Josh to marry her right then and there and reenact the honeymoon. Josh was ten at the time and Maya had just turned eight.”

“I remember this,” Farkle said from across the room. “I was in the park when the two of them were walking around hand in hand.”

“Yeah, except when we got home she had made him carry her over the threshold and Josh tripped making Maya fly into the cake my mom had just finished making.”

“Okay that’s enough,” Maya said trying to stop her from going on.

“And when Maya got up she asked Josh if he wanted to share some of the cake, and he said yes thinking she was going to hand him the plate, and she rubbed her face on him instead.”

“End of story,” Maya said looking at her with a death glare.

“Fine you party pooper,” Riley said pouting.

“You want to play it like that,” Maya said looking at Riley. “Fine, let me tell you guys about the first time Riley got her period.”

“Maya,” Riley yelled. “That’s private.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s about the most embarrassing memory,” she said looking at Riley and daring her to say anything else about the day Maya and Josh had played a married couple.

“I want to know,” Smackle said interested in what was happening.

“Of course Smackle wants to know,” Riley said throwing her hands in the air.

“I’ll tell you,” Maya said a smile on her face telling Riley that the story was going to happen regardless of what she said.

“Fine Maya but remember, I’ll get you,” Riley said as attempted to threaten as best she could.

“I’ll be waiting,” Maya said before turning to the rest of the group. “So it was a month before the end of sixth grade, and Riley is at home hiding in the closet, she didn’t know what was happening and so she kept changing her clothes in an attempt to hide it because she hoped it would go away… she thought it was a cut.”

“Please Maya stop,” Riley said but Maya continued.

“Her mother comes into the room as I climb in through the bay window, asking why Riley has so much laundry in the basket when her clothes had just been washed and when her mother notices what’s going on she has to pull Riley out of the closet to explain it all… but the most embarrassing part isn’t hers but her father’s, you see once Matthews found out he tripped going down the stairs just to get her those tween pads they sell at the store and had to get like four stitches on his forehead because he freaked out that she was becoming a woman, but he also wanted to make sure that she was taken care of.”

“He had a concussion from that fall,” Riley said remembering it like it had just happened. “I got chocolate and ice cream after I freaked out from him falling, but he had to stay in the hospital that night and I had been so scared that I had killed him that I stayed with him.”

“That man is not cut out to have children,” Farkle said hiding a laugh. “At least not girls because he’s not this bad with Auggie.”

“That’s because once they have a second child families tend to be more centered,” Smackle says.

“Anyone else want to share something embarrassing?” Riley said looking at her friends.

“I have one, but it’s not embarrassing as it is about me saying thank you,” Zay said looking at his friends. “Thank you all for being my friends.”

“Aww,” Maya and Riley say at the same time.

“Wait I want to hear about Lucas as a kid,” Farkle said looking at them. “He’s too perfect I want something that will change that.”

“Farkle I’m not perfect and you know it,” Lucas said while Riley ran her fingers through his scalp.

“Yeah, don’t lie to us,” Smackle said looking him in the eye.

“Fine, okay the first time I rode a horse, it jumped and I landed in a pile of horse poop,” Lucas said trying to deflect.

“Oh I remember that, it was the day your Pappy Joe wanted to take us out for ice cream, except you landed in the poop, and broke your leg,” Zay said looking at him. “It was funny to me, but Pappy Joe was talking about something that day.”

“Yeah he was telling me about how important it was that I learn to control my temper,” Lucas said with a sad look on his face. “It didn’t stick very well now did it.”

“No,” Zay said looking sad. “We kind of let him down after that.”

“Maybe we can go for a visit,” Riley said smiling.

“I don’t know Riley the last time we went down to Texas,” Farkle started but Riley put her hand up to stop him.

“Texas can’t be a bad memory anymore, we have to make it a good memory too,” she said looking at her friends.

They all nodded, even Smackle, Cassie and Josh who didn’t really know everything that Texas stood for when it came to Riley and Lucas. She wanted to change those memories for them all, and make some new ones as well.

Later that night when everyone was asleep Riley snuck into the kitchen so get some water only to wake Lucas. He walked over to her smiling and gave her a hug.

“You don’t have to go to Texas if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said to her.

“It’s not… well it’s not uncomfortable anymore, and I want to see Pappy Joe again, maybe get to know him a little better,” she said to him giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Maybe some happy memories with our friends is all we need.”

“Well let’s make some happy memories this weekend as well,” he said smiling.

“Walking in the snow together drinking hot cider,” she said smiling. “Making a snow man, and sledding down a hill.”

“All I need is you there,” he said smiling.

“That’s perfect.”

[deadlykittenkaywriting]

Cupcakes

written for @thebunkerofletters​ inktober challenge

PROMPT: Children RATING: Teen and up PAIRING/SHIP: Dean/Castiel - Destiel WARNINGS: Teacher Dean, Baker Castiel, Fluff, implied a/b/o dynamics, Omega Dean, Alpha Cas, mentions of miscarriages WORD COUNT: 1,366 SUMMARY:  A tradition that two friends started to engage the third graders of Dean's class turns into a new sort of tradition for them. Link:  Read below or Also on Ao3

November 2007

“Mr. Cas! Mr. Cas!” The children all chant excitedly as Castiel enters the third-grade class, arms full of nondescript white boxes. Behind him, Sam Winchester pushes a cart full of bags and tiny milk cartons.

“Alright gang, settle down!” Dean calls over the excited voices of his eight-year-old charges.  “Seats, please!”

As the children hurry to their assigned seats, he begins to set up the craft tables as Castiel places the boxes onto Dean's desk.

Castiel moves to help Dean cover the table with a protective cloth and smiles shyly when their hands touch. Once the table is ready, Dean and Cas work together as Sam tells a story to the children, keeping them occupied for the moment.

“Thanks for doing this, Cas,” Dean says softly as they each place a box on the table and begin to empty its contents.

Castiel shrugs. “It's not a problem, Dean. In fact, this is a tradition I rather like.”

“You'd make a great dad someday,” Dean says out of the blue, feeling his own face burn up.

Castiel freezes his motion of lifting the lid of the box and looks over at Dean before laughing. “We've had this discussion, Dean. For that to happen I would need to mate with someone and I'm not interested in anyone in that way.” It's a bold face lie, but one he will maintain until the day he dies.

Dean tries to swallow down the disappointment at Castiel's words and begins to unbox the fluffy cupcakes. The smell reminiscent of apple pie, but he knows that's not possible as they're made from a dense cake. Castiel had clearly outdone himself this year as each box could comfortably hold twenty-four of the confectionery treats and Castiel had brought three boxes.

“The third box if for you,” Castiel says simply when Dean points this out.

Dean moves away from the table, rescuing his brother from the onslaught of questions and allowing the younger man to help Castiel finish setting up.

“Alright gang,” Dean starts getting everyone's attention. “Today is our harvest party and with you guys leaving for the Thanksgiving holiday, I wanted to do something special for our art time.”

The kids chatter excitedly about this announcement and dart their attention from Dean to where Castiel and Sam now stand.

“Today for art, with the help of Heavenly Confections, we are going to decorate our own Harvest cupcakes.”

The kids cheer and Dean can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm. He can see the sad face of Hannah Wilson and he knows why. He looked over at Castiel who nods and makes his way to Hannah.

Dean deters the stares of her classmates by having them stand around the table to get their cupcake and choose their frosting, all the while watching Castiel.

Castiel makes his way to where little Hannah sits, frowning at her desk as her big blue eyes fill with tears. Dean had warned him that there was a child in his class this year who had a gluten allergy and her parents, Anna and Michael Wilson, had offered to keep her out today so that she wouldn't feel left out.

“Hi, Hannah,” Castiel say gently, squatting down to her level.

“Hi, Mister Cas,” she says sullenly, not looking at him.

“So Mister Dean told me that you need to have a special cupcake or you'll get sick. Is that right?” Dean hears Castiel ask and tries not to snort at Castiel's blunt nature with the child.

Hannah nods. “But no one ever remembers so I can never have one.”

Castiel reaches over and gently wipes away the tear that falls from her eye. “What if I let you in on a secret?”

Hannah looks at him expectantly, her eyes wider and wet.  

“Mister Dean has a food allergy too. One that many people would even think he had.”

“He does?” she tries to whisper back to Castiel, who nods.

“You know how when you eat gluten you get sick?” She nods again. “Mister Dean gets sick when he drinks milk.”

Hannah scrunches up her nose. “But I've seen him drink coffee. Momma always puts milk in Daddy's coffee.”

Castiel nods. “That's very possible but when you are lactose intolerant like Mister Dean, you use nondairy creamer. Otherwise, he would be sick.”

Hannah looks over at Dean watching him as he laughs with his brother and helps a student get their desired frosting on their own cupcake. “Oh,” she breathes out as if she just realized something. “That's why he never drinks milk with us!”

Castiel nods again. “Exactly. And those apple spice cupcakes,” he points to the table and waits for the expected reaction from the little girl who looked at him in wonder. “They are all gluten free which means you can have more than one.”

Dean looked over to see the wide smile on little Hannah's face before she launches herself onto Castiel. His heart swells when the man holds her to him and stands up, carrying the child to the table that her classmates are standing at.

Hannah gives him a kiss on the cheek as Castiel sets her down and let's go. “Thank you, Mister Cas.”

Castiel smiles warmly at her and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “My pleasure.”

Dean takes that moment to take a peek into the box that Castiel said was for him to find two pies and note. He smiles fondly at the pies, knowing that Castiel made those with him in mind if the Chevy cross cutout was any indication. He takes the note and reads the words written in Castiel elegant script.

His eyes dart over to Cas whose laughing as a student gets frosting on his beautiful face. Dean looks back at the note. Simple words, thanking him in the spirit of Thanksgiving for being his friend, the best friend he has and asking him if he'd be willing to see if there was more to them.

November 2017

“Mister Cas!” the students greet, all excited to see him, knowing that in the box holds the long anticipated and annual decorate your own cupcakes. Dean was so happy that he let Castiel and his cousin Gabe talk him into doing this every year. This year would be the first year that they not only did it for Autumn, but they would do it for Winter (Christmas), Spring (Easter) and Summer.

Castiel and Dean start the routine of setting up the tables while Sam reads to the kids to keep them busy. Now when they smooth out the protective cover and their hands brush, Dean's hand lingers over that of his husband's. Shy smiles are still given to each other, even after nine years of marriage.

Castiel goes to step away but stops when skinny little arms wrap around his waist. He looks down to see golden blonde curls. He smooths a hand over them, making the owner looks up at him with blue eyes like his own.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says softly.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says in a voice just as quiet as his.

“Did Mr. Kevin let you come visit?” Castiel asks, looking over at Dean who nods.

“Yeah. I have to bring him a cupcake though,” she says.

Castiel laughs and picks her up, placing the seven-year-old on his hip. “I think we can manage that.”

Dean comes close, waving the others over to grab their own cupcake to start decorating and Castiel can feel the warmth of Dean's hand on his lower back. He watches as Dean places a kiss on their daughter's head before returning his attention.

Castiel places a kiss onto his daughter's forehead and smiles. They went through hell to have Claire. Many times Dean thought he had failed his Alpha because of the miscarriages. And when Claire came early, it took every ounce of strength Castiel didn't know he had to take care of his Omega and his pup. But here they were, seven years later, laughing and decorating cupcakes as per their tradition.

And all because the elementary teacher walked into the bakery complaining that he needed a new way to engage his kids...

[readbookywooks]

14. I remain at the window long after the woods have swallowed up the last glimpse of my home. This time I don't have even the slightest hope of return. Before my first Games, I promised Prim I would do everything I could to win, and now I've sworn to myself to do all I can to keep Peeta alive. I will never reverse this journey again. I'd actually figured out what I wanted my last words to my loved ones to be. How best to close and lock the doors and leave them sad but safely behind. And now the Capitol has stolen that as well. "We'll write letters, Katniss," says Peeta from behind me. "It will be better, anyway. Give them a piece of us to hold on to. Haymitch will deliver them for us if ... they need to be delivered." I nod and go straight to my room. I sit on the bed, knowing I will never write those letters. They will be like the speech I tried to write to honor Rue and Thresh in District 11. Things seemed clear in my head and even when I talked before the crowd, but the words never came out of the pen right. Besides, they were meant to go with embraces and kisses and a stroke of Prim's hair, a caress of Gale's face, a squeeze of Madge's hand. They cannot be delivered with a wooden box containing my cold, stiff body. Too heartsick to cry, all I want is to curl up on the bed and sleep until we arrive in the Capitol tomorrow morning. But I have a mission. No, it's more than a mission. It's my dying wish. Keep Peeta alive. And as unlikely as it seems that I can achieve it in the face of the Capitol's anger, it's important that I be at the top of my game. This won't happen if I'm mourning for everyone I love back home. Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return. By the time Effie knocks on my door to call me to dinner, I'm empty. But the lightness isn't entirely unwelcome. The meal's subdued. So subdued, in fact, that there are long periods of silence relieved only by the removal of old dishes and presentation of new ones. A cold soup of pureed vegetables. Fish cakes with creamy lime paste. Those little birds filled with orange sauce, with wild rice and watercress. Chocolate custard dotted with cherries. Peeta and Effie make occasional attempts at conversation that quickly die out. "I love your new hair, Effie," Peeta says. "Thank you. I had it especially done to match Katniss's pin. I was thinking we might get you a golden ankle band and maybe find Haymitch a gold bracelet or something so we could all look like a team," says Effie. Evidently, Effie doesn't know that my mockingjay pin is now a symbol used by the rebels. At least in District 8. In the Capitol, the mockingjay is still a fun reminder of an especially exciting Hunger Games. What else could it be? Real rebels don't put a secret symbol on something as durable as jewelry. They put it on a wafer of bread that can be eaten in a second if necessary. "I think that's a great idea," says Peeta. "How about it, Haymitch?" "Yeah, whatever," says Haymitch. He's not drinking but I can tell he'd like to be. Effie had them take her own wine away when she saw the effort he was making, but he's in a miserable state. If he were the tribute, he would have owed Peeta nothing and could be as drunk as he liked. Now it's going to take all he's got to keep Peeta alive in an arena full of his old friends, and he'll probably fail. "Maybe we could get you a wig, too," I say in an attempt at lightness. He just shoots me a look that says to leave him alone, and we all eat our custard in silence. "Shall we watch the recap of the reapings?" says Effie, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a white linen napkin. Peeta goes off to retrieve his notebook on the remaining living victors, and we gather in the compartment with the television to see who our competition will be in the arena. We are all in place as the anthem begins to play and the annual recap of the reaping ceremonies in the twelve districts begins. In the history of the Games, there have been seventy-five victors. Fifty-nine are still alive. I recognize many of their faces, either from seeing them as tributes or mentors at previous Games or from our recent viewing of the victors' tapes. Some are so old or wasted by illness, drugs, or drink that I can't place them. As one would expect, the pools of Career tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4 are the largest. But every district has managed to scrape up at least one female and one male victor. The reapings go by quickly. Peeta studiously puts stars by the names of the chosen tributes in his notebook. Haymitch watches, his face devoid of emotion, as friends of his step up to take the stage. Effie makes hushed, distressed comments like "Oh, not Cecelia" or "Well, Chaff never could stay out of a fight," and sighs frequently. For my part, I try to make some mental record of the other tributes, but like last year, only a few really stick in my head. There's the classically beautiful brother and sister from District 1 who were victors in consecutive years when I was little. Brutus, a volunteer from District 2, who must be at least forty and apparently can't wait to get back in the arena. Finnick, the handsome bronze-haired guy from District 4 who was crowned ten years ago at the age of fourteen. A hysterical young woman with flowing brown hair is also called from 4, but she's quickly replaced by a volunteer, an eighty-year-old woman who needs a cane to walk to the stage. Then there's Johanna Mason, the only living female victor from 7, who won a few years back by pretending she was a weakling. The woman from 8 who Effie calls Cecelia, who looks about thirty, has to detach herself from the three kids who run up to cling to her. Chaff, a man from 11 who I know to be one of Haymitch's particular friends, is also in. I'm called. Then Haymitch. And Peeta volunteers. One of the announcers actually gets teary because it seems the odds will never be in our favor, we star-crossed lovers of District 12. Then she pulls herself together to say she bets that "these will be the best Games ever!" Haymitch leaves the compartment without a word, and Effie, after making a few unconnected comments about this tribute or that, bids us good night. I just sit there watching Peeta rip out the pages of the victors who were not picked. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he says. Because I can't handle the nightmares. Not without you, I think. They are sure to be dreadful tonight. But I can hardly ask Peeta to come sleep with me. We've barely touched since that night Gale was whipped. "What are you going to do?" I ask. "Just review my notes awhile. Get a clear picture of what we're up against. But I'll go over it with you in the morning. Go to bed, Katniss," he says. So I go to bed and, sure enough, within a few hours I awake from a nightmare where that old woman from District 4 transforms into a large rodent and gnaws on my face. I know I was screaming, but no one comes. Not Peeta, not even one of the Capitol attendants. I pull on a robe to try to calm the gooseflesh crawling over my body. Staying in my compartment is impossible, so I decide to go find someone to make me tea or hot chocolate or anything. Maybe Haymitch is still up. Surely he isn't asleep. I order warm milk, the most calming thing I can think of, from an attendant. Hearing voices from the television room, I go in and find Peeta. Beside him on the couch is the box Effie sent of tapes of the old Hunger Games. I recognize the episode in which Brutus became victor. Peeta rises and flips off the tape when he sees me. "Couldn't sleep?" "Not for long," I say. I pull the robe more securely around me as I remember the old woman transforming into the rodent. "Want to talk about it?" he asks. Sometimes that can help, but I just shake my head, feeling weak that people I haven't even fought yet already haunt me. When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It's the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he's offered me any sort of affection. He's been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go. And why should I? I have said good-bye to Gale. I'll never see him again, that's for certain. Nothing I do now can hurt him. He won't see it or he'll think I am acting for the cameras. That, at least, is one weight off my shoulders. The arrival of the Capitol attendant with the warm milk is what breaks us apart. He sets a tray with a steaming ceramic jug and two mugs on a table. "I brought an extra cup," he says. "Thanks," I say. "And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice," he adds. He looks at us like he wants to say more, then gives his head a slight shake and backs out of the room. "What's with him?" I say. "I think he feels bad for us," says Peeta. "Right," I say, pouring the milk. "I mean it. I don't think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in," says Peeta. "Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions." "I'm guessing they'll get over it once the blood starts flowing," I say flatly. Really, if there's one thing I don't have time for, it's worrying about how the Quarter Quell will affect the mood in the Capitol. "So, you're watching all the tapes again?" "Not really. Just sort of skipping around to see people's different fighting techniques," says Peeta. "Who's next?" I ask. "You pick," says Peeta, holding out the box. The tapes are marked with the year of the Games and the name of the victor. I dig around and suddenly find one in my hand that we have not watched. The year of the Games is fifty. That would make it the second Quarter Quell. And the name of the victor is Haymitch Abernathy. "We never watched this one," I say. Peeta shakes his head. "No. I knew Haymitch didn't want to. The same way we didn't want to relive our own Games. And since we're all on the same team, I didn't think it mattered much." "Is the person who won in twenty-five in here?" I ask. "I don't think so. Whoever it was must be dead by now, and Effie only sent me victors we might have to face." Peeta weighs Haymitch's tape in his hand. "Why? You think we ought to watch it?" "It's the only Quell we have. We might pick up something valuable about how they work," I say. But I feel weird. It seems like some major invasion of Haymitch's privacy. I don't know why it should, since the whole thing was public. But it does. I have to admit I'm also extremely curious. "We don't have to tell Haymitch we saw it." "Okay," Peeta agrees. He puts in the tape and I curl up next to him on the couch with my milk, which is really delicious with the honey and spices, and lose myself in the Fiftieth Hunger Games. After the anthem, they show President Snow drawing the envelope for the second Quarter Quell. He looks younger but just as repellent. He reads from the square of paper in the same onerous voice he used for ours, informing Panem that in honor of the Quarter Quell, there will be twice the number of tributes. The editors smash cut right into the reapings, where name after name after name is called. By the time we get to District 12, I'm completely overwhelmed by the sheer number of kids going to certain death. There's a woman, not Effie, calling the names in 12, but she still begins with "Ladies first!" She calls out the name of a girl who's from the Seam, you can tell by the look of her, and then I hear the name "Maysilee Donner." "Oh!" I say. "She was my mother's friend." The camera finds her in the crowd, clinging to two other girls. All blond. All definitely merchants' kids. "I think that's your mother hugging her," says Peeta quietly. And he's right. As Maysilee Donner bravely disengages herself and heads for the stage, I catch a glimpse of my mother at my age, and no one has exaggerated her beauty. Holding her hand and weeping is another girl who looks just like Maysilee. But a lot like someone else I know, too. "Madge," I say. "That's her mother. She and Maysilee were twins or something," Peeta says. "My dad mentioned it once." I think of Madge's mother. Mayor Undersee's wife. Who spends half her life in bed immobilized with terrible pain, shutting out the world. I think of how I never realized that she and my mother shared this connection. Of Madge showing up in that snowstorm to bring the painkiller for Gale. Of my mockingjay pin and how it means something completely different now that I know that its former owner was Madge's aunt, Maysilee Donner, a tribute who was murdered in the arena. Haymitch's name is called last of all. It's more of a shock to see him than my mother. Young. Strong. Hard to admit, but he was something of a looker. His hair dark and curly, those gray Seam eyes bright and, even then, dangerous. "Oh. Peeta, you don't think he killed Maysilee, do you?" I burst out. I don't know why, but I can't stand the thought. "With forty-eight players? I'd say the odds are against it," says Peeta. The chariot rides - in which the District 12 kids are dressed in awful coal miners' outfits - and the interviews flash by. There's little time to focus on anyone. But since Haymitch is going to be the victor, we get to see one full exchange between him and Caesar Flickerman, who looks exactly as he always does in his twinkling midnight blue suit. Only his dark green hair, eyelids, and lips are different. "So, Haymitch, what do you think of the Games having one hundred percent more competitors than usual?" asks Caesar. Haymitch shrugs. "I don't see that it makes much difference. They'll still be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same." The audience bursts out laughing and Haymitch gives them a half smile. Snarky. Arrogant. Indifferent. "He didn't have to reach far for that, did he?" I say. Now it's the morning the Games begin. We watch from the point of view of one of the tributes as she rises up through the tube from the Launch Room and into the arena. I can't help but give a slight gasp. Disbelief is reflected on the faces of the players. Even Haymitch's eyebrows lift in pleasure, although they almost immediately knit themselves back into a scowl. It's the most breathtaking place imaginable. The golden Cornucopia sits in the middle of a green meadow with patches of gorgeous flowers. The sky is azure blue with puffy white clouds. Bright songbirds flutter overhead. By the way some of the tributes are sniffing, it must smell fantastic. An aerial shot shows that the meadow stretches for miles. Far in the distance, in one direction, there seems to be a woods, in the other, a snowcapped mountain. The beauty disorients many of the players, because when the gong sounds, most of them seem like they're trying to wake from a dream. Not Haymitch, though. He's at the Cornucopia, armed with weapons and a backpack of choice supplies. He heads for the woods before most of the others have stepped off their plates. Eighteen tributes are killed in the bloodbath that first day. Others begin to die off and it becomes clear that almost everything in this pretty place - the luscious fruit dangling from the bushes, the water in the crystalline streams, even the scent of the flowers when inhaled too directly - is deadly poisonous. Only the rainwater and the food provided at the Cornucopia are safe to consume. There's also a large, well-stocked Career pack of ten tributes scouring the mountain area for victims. Haymitch has his own troubles over in the woods, where the fluffy golden squirrels turn out to be carnivorous and attack in packs, and the butterfly stings bring agony if not death. But he persists in moving forward, always keeping the distant mountain at his back. Maysilee Donner turns out to be pretty resourceful herself, for a girl who leaves the Cornucopia with only a small backpack. Inside she finds a bowl, some dried beef, and a blowgun with two dozen darts. Making use of the readily available poisons, she soon turns the blowgun into a deadly weapon by dipping the darts in lethal substances and directing them into her opponents' flesh. Four days in, the picturesque mountain erupts in a volcano that wipes out another dozen players, including all but five of the Career pack. With the mountain spewing liquid fire, and the meadow offering no means of concealment, the remaining thirteen tributes - including Haymitch and Maysilee - have no choice but to confine themselves to the woods. Haymitch seems bent on continuing in the same direction, away from the now volcanic mountain, but a maze of tightly woven hedges forces him to circle back into the center of the woods, where he encounters three of the Careers and pulls his knife. They may be much bigger and stronger, but Haymitch has remarkable speed and has killed two when the third disarms him. That Career is about to slit his throat when a dart drops him to the ground. Maysilee Donner steps out of the woods. "We'd live longer with two of us." "Guess you just proved that," says Haymitch, rubbing his neck. "Allies?" Maysilee nods. And there they are, instantly drawn into one of those pacts you'd be hard-pressed to break if you ever expect to go home and face your district. Just like Peeta and me, they do better together. Get more rest, work out a system to salvage more rainwater, fight as a team, and share the food from the dead tributes' packs. But Haymitch is still determined to keep moving on. "Why?" Maysilee keeps asking, and he ignores her until she refuses to move any farther without an answer. "Because it has to end somewhere, right?" says Haymitch. "The arena can't go on forever." "What do you expect to find?" Maysilee asks. "I don't know. But maybe there's something we can use," he says. When they finally do make it through that impossible hedge, using a blowtorch from one of the dead Careers' packs, they find themselves on flat, dry earth that leads to a cliff. Far below, you can see jagged rocks. "That's all there is, Haymitch. Let's go back," says Maysilee. "No, I'm staying here," he says. "All right. There's only five of us left. May as well say good-bye now, anyway," she says. "I don't want it to come down to you and me." "Okay," he agrees. That's all. He doesn't offer to shake her hand or even look at her. And she walks away. Haymitch skirts along the edge of the cliff as if trying to figure something out. His foot dislodges a pebble and it falls into the abyss, apparently gone forever. But a minute later, as he sits to rest, the pebble shoots back up beside him. Haymitch stares at it, puzzled, and then his face takes on a strange intensity. He lobs a rock the size of his fist over the cliff and waits. When it flies back out and right into his hand, he starts laughing. That's when we hear Maysilee begin to scream. The alliance is over and she broke it off, so no one could blame him for ignoring her. But Haymitch runs for her, anyway. He arrives only in time to watch the last of a flock of candy pink birds, equipped with long, thin beaks, skewer her through the neck. He holds her hand while she dies, and all I can think of is Rue and how I was too late to save her, too. Later that day, another tribute is killed in combat and a third gets eaten by a pack of those fluffy squirrels, leaving Haymitch and a girl from District 1 to vie for the crown. She's bigger than he is and just as fast, and when the inevitable fight comes, it's bloody and awful and both have received what could well be fatal wounds, when Haymitch is finally disarmed. He staggers through the beautiful woods, holding his intestines in, while she stumbles after him, carrying the ax that should deliver his deathblow. Haymitch makes a beeline for his cliff and has just reached the edge when she throws the ax. He collapses on the ground and it flies into the abyss. Now weaponless as well, the girl just stands there, trying to staunch the flow of blood pouring from her empty eye socket. She's thinking perhaps that she can outlast Haymitch, who's starting to convulse on the ground. But what she doesn't know, and what he does, is that the ax will return. And when it flies back over the ledge, it buries itself in her head. The cannon sounds, her body is removed, and the trumpets blow to announce Haymitch's victory. Peeta clicks off the tape and we sit there in silence for a while. Finally Peeta says, "That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Center. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon." "Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too," I say. "You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!" I can't help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Peeta just shakes his head like I've lost my mind - and maybe I have, a little. "Almost, but not quite," says Haymitch from behind us. I whip around, afraid he's going to be angry over us watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes a swig from a bottle of wine. So much for sobriety. I guess I should be upset he's drinking again, but I'm preoccupied with another feeling. I've spent all these weeks getting to know who my competitors are, without even thinking about who my teammates are. Now a new kind of confidence is lighting up inside of me, because I think I finally know who Haymitch is. And I'm beginning to know who I am. And surely, two people who have caused the Capitol so much trouble can think of a way to get Peeta home alive.