#saying all that history is garbage and it’s better to throw it all away rather than clean it

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

Unova as a region supposedly has very little ties to Arceus’s creation myth and the creation of the world as a whole. While it has its own legendaries, those legendaries do not have any domain over an object or a concept greater than man itself. Or if they do, in the case of Reshiram and Zekrom, it’s lesso that they actually have control over it and protect it, and moreso they’re icons that simply represent the concept.

However, that does not mean Arceus did not have any influence over Unova as a whole.

Like the Sinnoh trio, Arceus grew to love and adore two people in particular. The Hero of Truth’s Warrior Bride, Genevieve Darby, and The Hero of Ideal’s Life Partner of a Troubadour, Pascal Simone. Both were the ones to carry on the story of the two heroes from their own perspectives.

Who, upon dying in battle by believers of ideals and being executed by believers of truths respectfully, reawakened as Victini and Meloetta as a blessing by Arceus.

It’s not just Meloetta and Victini though, as Kyurem is actually theorized to also be a part of the world’s creation, before it’s untimely shattering as a result of the heroes.

However, no records are available to confirm this. As after the two heroes “died” (fuse with parts of Kyurem to become Reshiram and Zekrom), and Kyurem began to eat every human in its path to become “whole” again, all records and books regarding Kyurem’s myth were burned in the very same square Pascal was executed in. This ultimately escalates to the full burning of the Royal Unovan Library including most historical records.

This series of burnings, starting with the execution of Genevieve and Pascal, would be referred to as “The 100 Day Fire” and is often blamed as the main cause of why so much of Unova’s actual history is blurry and all that simply remains is folklore that stems from the two heroes’ confidants word. And why Arceus itself seems very uninvolved when it actually is.

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

[mittensmorgul]

Dean died standing up, which on one hand seems symbolic for "dying on his feet not his knees", ie. it was his choice (i call BS). but it was also like Christ's crucifixion: killed for his love (for Cas/men) and faith that life can get better - it did when he "rose" again, but it was Heaven not Earth, ie. a fantasy. Who Dean Was wasn't the only thing that was killed, it was What He Believed In/Wanted as well: a better life, full of love.

How many times over the years has Dean just begun to see light at the end of the tunnel, only to have it ripped away in a horrific cosmic twist that refuses to let him have a win, only to get back up and keep fighting and putting away that dream until it starts to look like they might finally be on the horizon of an actual win again?

Let’s just think back over the history of “toes in the sand” dreaming, specifically, which is something that really became obvious in s10 when they seemed to be on the verge of finding a “cure” for the mark, that they were under the false belief all season was merely a curse that could be undone. He started dreaming of a vacation, of being able to let go of the need to stand between humanity and cosmic fuckery, and just... relax on a beach and enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while. But that was not to be, because the mark was much more than a curse, and unleashed a whole new round of cosmic garbage to clean up.

13.23 took this to new levels of personal punishment for Dean thinking he might deserve a peaceful retirement:

You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously.

HE WAS EXCITED ABOUT RETIREMENT and sharing this joy with his loved ones! But by the end of that episode he would have no other choice but to say yes to Michael to save Sam and Jack (and the rest of the world...), and the narrative snatched him up and used him again.

It’s what he’s been fighting for all season long in 15, too. First he had to come to grips with what was even real about his life, if anything was ever even his choice. This season pushed him to truly understand what was real-- that Cas was probably the realest thing he’s ever encountered, and the cosmic forces that had always torn that dream of retiring (or even getting a vacation) from his grasp had also actively been trying to take Cas from him, too. But despite all that, Cas kept coming back to him anyway, and isn’t that an actual miracle?

And when he finally does get the ultimate win against the cosmos in 15.19, it’s at the greatest possible cost. Cas is lost to him, but even still he tries to make that sacrifice worth something by living his life as best he can.

And then he lives like two days before being killed in the stupidest possible fashion. Like... 

wtf, on every level

“Oh but he’s got an eternity of happiness in heaven!”

NO. *smacks everyone responsible for this travesty with a rolled up newspaper*

“But that’s just how the Supernatural universe works!”

NO. *gets out the newspaper again*

That is not how *our* world works. For every person among us who has identified with Dean or with Cas, we don’t get to look forward to happy heaven forever. We have *one* life (as far as any of us know) and it’s irrevocably precious. DEAN felt his life was irrevocably precious, too, because Cas convinced him it was, that he was worthy of living and being loved for exactly who he was.

And they both died for it.

And in a world where a... how did I phrase this in another post recently... where a proto-fascist evangelical death cult that’s taken over large parts of the us government and would see all not-straight, not-white, not-wealthy, not-abled and not-them in every other way punished or erased simply for trying to exist in society, and who truly believes that life on earth ain’t shit and their real reward will come only once they reach heaven, this is a really awful end for a canon queer couple moments after that love was made textual in a confession.

Like... really bad.

There is no defense of this choice. Writing is ALWAYS a choice. And sometimes writing simply to serve the story (like showing us that Heaven is fixed and now a paradise) doesn’t serve the audience at all. And sometimes those choices are actively harmful to the audience. I don’t just mean the queer audience (or in Eileen’s case, the disabled audience). I mean THE ENTIRE audience, including people who enjoyed the finale. Because it reinforces that the disabled can simply be erased entirely, and that confessing to loving someone is fulfillment enough and merits instant death and subsequent erasure. Not just for Cas, who confessed, but for Dean who never had the chance to confess his own feelings. Never even had the chance to really live out beyond that confession. Never even addressed it in death, either. It was just a punishment for daring to want to live free of everything that had forced him back into the story over and over again at the whim of a cruel and capricious god.

(This isn’t even satisfying for Sam, who apparently ran away again to live out the half-life he’d tried to make for himself every time he’s run away from his life throughout the entire narrative. His wife was irrelevant, he lived for his son he named for his dead brother, and barely even seemed content in that life let alone fulfilled and happy. Dean’s year away from hunting with Lisa had a more positive and hopeful montage associated with it. It’s depressing as fuck that Sam finally found his way free of all of it, and it’s like he just kept clinging to life out of a sense of duty rather than of his own free will. And it’s entirely baffling in every way. Like none of the previous 15 years of growth and coming to understand the balance of his own life meant anything. What a waste.)

The finale says there is no reward in life for people like me, and that I should just be okay with that. And readers, I am not okay with that.

So... I’m happy to throw away the finale with both hands. It didn’t happen, because it’s just that horrific to me.

And if anyone reading this actually does think the finale was good, or satisfying, then I just invite you to understand why so many of us are horrified that you can. Why we might not feel like you’re trustworthy. Just a little explainer here, because for some of us, the story of Supernatural was in the hoping, and in the end the message felt way too much like don’t even try hoping, you will always lose in the end, and that’s just not okay.

Dean deserved his retirement, he deserved to be able to tell Cas he loved him too, and he deserved a long, happy life of his own free choice. He deserved to be able to follow his heart. And all of this, everything that happened instead, was a deliberate choice. Just not DEAN’S choice.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Anesthesia | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  Tom suffers a serious car accident and the reader is the nurse on duty in the ER. Tom and anesthesia don't mix and Tom acts very out of character. Can Tom regain his composure or will he continue to shamelessly flirt with the reader? And is Benedict going to work all of this to his advantage?

Warnings: Car Accidents, Hospitals, Anesthesia Makes people act crazy, Tom quoting Shakespeare

-

“Tom?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered, and he blinked several times, adjusting to the bright white light.

“Nurse! He is waking up!”

Nurse? Waking up? Tom reached out and cold metal hit his hands. Safety rails. The air was cool, dry, and sterile. As he attempted to sit up, he felt a cold air hit his bare back.

“Hey buddy, lie back down. You gave us quite a scare,” the familiar voice reassured him as he lowered himself back down to the bed.

Tom turned his head to the sound and once he saw Benedict’s face he smiled. Ben smiled back.

“Welcome back to Earth, Tom.”

“Thanks, what happened?”

The last thing Tom remembered was climbing into the stunt car to rehearse the big action shot. After that, it was just flashes of fire, screams and sirens.

“The brakes failed and the stunt coordinator doesn’t know what happened. But the important thing is you got out alive.”

Tom attempted to sit up again and felt winces of pain throughout his body.

“What was the damage?”

Benedict looked down.

“To you or the car?”

“The car… of course me! I feel as though a Mack truck hit me.”

“You are not far off. You broke your clavicle, wrist, and a few ribs. Um… lacerations everywhere and a… a ruptured spleen.”

Tom twisted to see his friend’s face better and felt the stitches and bandages strain. He winced at the sharp pain on his left side. Benedict hit the call button and in minutes, the nurse arrived.

She smiled as she approached the bed.

“Feeling pain?”

Tom nodded.

She looked at your chart before adding some pain meds to Tom’s IV.

“That should do. I would suggest lying down and the doctor should be in about twenty minutes.”

Tom thanked her and couldn’t help but notice her gazing over her shoulder as she left the room. Her smile barely contained her giggles. Tom’s eyes widened.

“Do they know who I am?”

Benedict averted his eyes and rose from the chair, feigning interest in the generic artwork on the wall. Tom narrowed his eyes at the clear avoidance of the question.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Oh boy, you don’t remember anything when you got here, do you?”

Tom shook his head.

“No, what happened?”

“You were in a lot of pain. Tell me have you ever been under anesthesia before?”

“Maybe, once or twice…” Tom questioned, but then he stared his friend down for answers.

“What did I say, Ben?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. Sit down and tell me, and I will decide if you live or die.”

Dejected, Ben returned to the chair and let a sigh out.

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

Four Hours Earlier

The gurney burst through the ER doors just fifteen minutes after you started your shift. Emergency room shifts are never boring but physically and emotionally draining. You put down your cup of coffee and headed in to assess the patient.

A man lied, groaning on the gurney. His face covered in scrapes and blood staining his ginger whiskers. His left wrist sat at an unnatural angle and his shirt cut away by the paramedics to administer help.

“Car accident,” the EMT relayed, “stunt gone wrong.”

A specific hazard unique to Los Angeles. They wheeled him to the examination room and put him onto the bed with care. He wore a C-collar, but the jostling stirred the man. His eyelids fluttered open and his blue eyes work to focus on his surroundings.

“Hey…” you looked down at his chart, “Tom. How are you doing?”

“Pain.”

“I know you are in pain, but where?”

Tom gestured to the left side of his abdomen.

“Okay.” You grabbed some morphine and added it to his IV. “Any allergies?”

He shook his head.

“Anyone come with you?”

As if on cue, Benedict pulled back the curtain.

“I did.”

You recognized the man standing before you. Benedict Cumberbatch was quite the movie star.

“Really?” You attempted to keep your cool. This was no time for fan girling.

Within minutes, Benedict could communicate the information about not only the accident but Tom’s medical history as well. It had all been on file with the production company.

The doctor came in and did a quick examination.

“We need to get a CT scan and X-rays. Looks like there may be internal injuries.”

You nodded as you prepared to wheel Tom down the hall.

“Ready to go for a ride?” you asked.

Tom nodded and gave a goofy smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, Y/N. That’s a beautiful name. My name is Tom Fucking Hiddleston.”

The drugs were doing their job.

“Nice to meet you, Tom. We will take you for some tests.”

“But I didn’t study!” he sounded dismayed.

You could not suppress your laugh.

“I think you will be fine.”

Tom grabbed your hand and looked up at you, tears in his eyes.

“Will you help me study?” he asked with a serious tone.

“Of course.”

Tom continued to babble on for the rest of the trip to imaging. He spoke about how nice you smelled and how pretty your eyes look. The full court press of flirting. As you reached the room, you and the other nurse lifted Tom onto the machine.

“Here you go.”

Tom grabbed your hand once again.

“Please don’t leave. I’m scared of the dark.”

While his words spoke of her fear, his eyes and smile said something else.

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hiddleston?”

His smile only grew.

“Is it working?”

You leaned in to his ear to whisper, “No, but the drugs are.”

Tom pouted.

“Not fair.”

“But you are cute.”

His face lit up once again.

“I came, saw and overcame.” Tom was being dramatic.

At that point, the other nurse started up the machine, and you walked away to let the rest of nurses to care for his needs. After his scans, you headed back to the waiting area. You found Benedict pacing the floor in anticipation. His long fingers alternating between steepling in front of his face and raking through his hair. As you approached, you cleared your throat.

“Yes?” his voice shared a tone of concern and hopefulness.

“A few broken bones but the big thing is that his spleen has ruptured. He needs surgery right away.”

Ben’s face fell.

“Will he be okay?”

You nodded.

“He will make a full recovery. Would you like to see him before they send him in to operating?”

You led Ben back to where they were prepping Tom for surgery. The anesthesiologist added drugs to the IV and Tom was now in a full hospital gown. His tattered rags of clothes in the garbage.

“No fair!” Tom bellowed as you entered with Ben throwing the thin sheet over his legs. The two of you shared a knowing look, “You have seen me naked but I have not had the chance to see you naked.”

You leaned into Benedict.

“It would seem that the medicine does not agree with your friend,” you smirked.

“Oh, I don’t know, I rather like him like this, so not proper. So not Tom Hiddleston.”

You smiled as you looked upon Tom who, in vain, tried to cover his body. Even loopy on drugs, he charmed and warmed your heart.

“I will leave you to it.”

As you turned to leave, Tom shouted at you.

“I love thee, Y/N. By which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, not withstanding the poor and untempering effect of visage. And therefore tell me, most fair Y/N, will you have me?”

You suppressed a small giggle.

“I will see you later,” you let them both know as you shut the door.

As soon as the door latched, Tom grabbed Benedict’s arm and pulled him down close.

“Ben! Ben! Have you met my wife?”

Benedict screwed his face up with confusion.

“The nurse? That is just the drugs talking, Tom. You barely know her.”

“Nonsense. She will be my wife and you shall be my best man.”

Benedict looked at Tom with an exasperated face but Tom’s only contained earnest. With a chuckle, Benedict conceded.

“Very well, Tom. I will be your best man.”

Tom slapped Benedict’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit. As my best man, I require you to acquire my future bride’s number.”

Benedict could not resist at this point to play along with his friend’s drug-addled fantasy.

“I will, on one condition.”

“Name your price.”

“Name your firstborn after me.”

“Consider it done.”

“Then consider the number yours.”

Tom’s face beamed and as if on cue, the nurses came to wheel Tom into surgery.

***

“Oh dear, God. I quoted Shakespeare.”

Tom hung his head and his face and neck turned a bright shade of red.

“Yep. The Henry the Fifth wooing speech too. Honestly, it was one of your better performances. Might I suggest doing all your roles drugged from now on.”

Tom shot Benedict a withering look.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I can’t show my face to her again.”

At that moment, the door opened, and you entered. The color drained from Tom’s face, while the smile grew on Benedict’s.

“Y/N!” Benedict cooed, “We were just talking about you. So nice of you to stop in.”

Your shift ended half an hour ago, but you wanted to check in on Tom before going home. Today was not the first time a patient hit on you, although they are usually not an award-winning actor with a penchant for quoting Shakespeare. But, you would remain ever the professional. You checked the chart before wishing the two men well.

As you turned to exit, Benedict walked you out.

“Thank you, Y/N for attending to Tom.”

“My pleasure. Even under the influence, he is quite charming.”

Benedict took this opportunity.

“Speaking about that…”

3 years later

“Tom!”

You yelled down the hall of your London home, beckoning your husband. At six months pregnant, getting up and down was no easy task. Tom rushed to your side. He gave you his arm and with a rocking start; you extracted yourself from the chair.

“Thanks, darling.”

“I am at your beck and call.”

You rubbed your swollen belly as you waddled your way down the hall. Tom followed you to the kitchen.

“Now about names for this little young man here.”

Tom grew ashen. He thought he could avoid this conversation, but it seems his luck had run out.

“Yeah, I have I mentioned today that I love you.”

Tom kissed your lips, and you looked at him with distrust.

“What have you done?”

Tom smiled and rubbed his neck, a nervous habit.

“I may have promised to name the child after Benedict.”

Tom flinched.

“You what? Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was for a good cause.”

“Which was?”

“Your phone number.”

With that, Tom took off down the hallway. You smiled as you walked with much effort behind him.

“We are NOT naming our child after breakfast food!”

You heard Tom’s laughter fill the house.

[love-sapphirerose]

Naruto: 10 Worst Things About Sasuke And Sakura's Relationship

By the time of Boruto, Sasuke and Sakura are a loving married couple, but their checkered history included some troubling low points.

BY HANNAH GRIMES

Sakura harbors a crush on Sasuke before the two of them even graduate from the Academy and end up on the same team. He's always at the forefront of her thoughts and actions, and the two of them do end up getting married and starting a family of their own in the end. On paper, their romance seems relatively dreamlike.

However, that's not the full story of the ups and downs of their relationship. Sasuke initially doesn't care enough to give Sakura the time of day, and there are even multiple instances where he seems indifferent to her life being in danger — or actively endangers it himself. Sakura's unhealthy obsession with Sasuke also stunts her growth in other ways.

10. Even After Starting A Family, Sasuke Is A Largely Absent Father Who Can't Connect With His Daughter

There's a long period of time between the original series and Shippuden where Sasuke is absent after he turned his back on the Leaf to instead seek revenge. He eventually does come back and start a life with Sakura, but even then he's absent most of the time.

While this is due to being sent out on missions and he doesn't have much of a choice, he fails to properly connect with his daughter Sarada when he does get to spend time with her. He's so bad on this front that he actually ends up getting scolded by his old squad leader, Kakashi.

9. Sakura Ignores Naruto And Treats Him Like Garbage Because Of Her Initial Infatuation

It's one thing to have a crush on someone and to value their opinion more than anyone else's. It's another thing when this infatuation causes someone to treat others around them poorly, especially when their crush doesn't even want to give them the time of day.

In the beginning, Naruto continually makes efforts to connect with Sakura and get to know her better. She not only brushes him off but straight-up calls him annoying and tells him to get lost, simply because he's not the object of her romantic affection, instead of making any attempt to bond with her teammate.

8. Sakura Appears Blind To Much Of Sasuke's Suffering, Instead Focusing On Her Own Feelings

Sakura values Sasuke above everything else in her life, and this remains true even after he defects from the Leaf. Despite this, though, it oftentimes feels as if she doesn't consider his feelings and struggles and is instead remains much more focused on her own.

In the beginning, she doesn't consider his feelings regarding his murdered family when talking down on Naruto, saying he's so undisciplined because he doesn't have parental guidance. She's also quick to say she'll help Sasuke with his path of revenge when he goes to leave the village despite this being an incredibly destructive and harmful path.

7. Sakura Throws Away Her Best Friend For Sasuke When He Doesn't Care At All About Her

Back when Sakura was much younger, she completely lacked self-confidence and was a consistent target of bullying from other girls. It's Ino who stepped in, got the bullies to back off, and showed Sakura that she shouldn't hide her insecurities and instead have more confidence in herself.

Sakura then decides to throw away their friendship simply because she hears that Ino also has a crush on Sasuke. She says it's for the sake of them becoming rivals, but they both would've been much stronger if they worked together rather than letting a guy split them apart, especially a guy who doesn't care for either of them.

6. For A Long Time, Sasuke Shows No Interest In Her While Both Naruto And Rock Lee Do

Sakura stays completely devoted to Sasuke even though he betrays no romantic interest in her whatsoever. This might make sense if there were no one else who cared for Sakura and wanted her to be happy, but both Naruto and Rock Lee care immensely for her.

Lee goes as far as to risk his own life for Sakura's sake in the Forest of Death, and the two of them bond when Sakura goes to Lee's hospital room nearly every day to spend time with him after the tournament. Naruto consistently offers to spend time with Sakura and gives her positive attention, and she instead chooses to yearn after Sasuke, who's totally caught up with his curse mark and revenge business.

5. Sakura States She Has No Interests Or Hobbies That Don't Involve Sasuke

During the initial introduction that Kakashi has everyone participate in, the members of the newly-formed Team 7 all go around stating a bit about themselves. Sasuke focuses on his future revenge, and though Naruto mostly talks about ramen, he at least also states his dream of becoming Hokage.

Sakura, on the other hand, states that all of her likes and hobbies have to do with Sasuke. Because of this, she also declares that the thing she hates is Naruto. This is incredibly immature, and it's not a good foundation for any relationship if one's entire world revolves around the person they like and they don't have anything else to bring them happiness.

4. They Don't Put Equal Effort Into Their Relationship After Getting Married

Sakura essentially gives up on her life as a shinobi in order to raise her and Sasuke's daughter while he's away. He's gone for so long on missions that Sakura admits that the main reason she keeps so many pictures of Sasuke is so she doesn't forget what he looks like, which is heartbreaking.

Sasuke, on the other hand, doesn't make any effort to stop by and see his family while he's away for years at a time. He could at least send letters to get updates on how their daughter is doing — something he should care deeply about — but he never does.

3. Sakura Plots To Steal A Kiss From Sasuke When He Has No Interest In Her

After graduation, on the day when the teams are made up, Sakura asks Sasuke if she can sit by him. He completely and utterly ignores her, but this doesn't stop her from sitting beside him regardless.

She states internally that she'll be "stealing his first kiss today," which comes off incredibly creepy when he hasn't expressed any interest in her or desire to kiss her. It doesn't make her look like someone who actually cares about him when she's willing to try to get a kiss from him without his consent.

2. Sakura's Self-Confidence Early On Is Completely Reliant On Sasuke

Before the Chunin Exams, Sakura asks Sasuke if he'd like to train with her. He coldly brushes her off and comments that, when it comes to trying to push her plans onto others who aren't interested, she's just as bad as Naruto.

This rejection completely crushes her self-confidence and she immediately agrees with him instead of standing up for herself. She stays in this funk until Sasuke later compliments her ability to see through genjutsu, after which her self-confidence is immediately restored. It's incredibly unhealthy for her sense of self to hinge on how Sasuke treats her.

1. Sasuke Almost Successfully Ended Sakura's Life

If there's one thing that should have made Sakura realize Sasuke didn't care about her the way she cared about him, above all else, it's the moment he tries to kill her.

Sakura goes after Sasuke declaring that she'll be the one to kill him herself after he becomes an international criminal, but she freezes in the moment. He then tries to kill her instead. He would have been successful in this endeavor, too, if Kakashi hadn't shown up just in time to deflect Sasuke's Chidori and save her. Her infatuation with him doesn't waver whatsoever after this, which feels incredibly off-putting after this vicious interaction.

[just-jordie-things]

Hi could I please get a 53 and 3 for Sokka?

prompt 3: drunk/sloppy kiss prompt 53: against a wall kiss ___

In hindsight, going to a local pub with only Aang as your designated Appa flyer and voice of reason wasn’t a good idea.  Mostly because Aang was pretty relaxed when it came to being the sober one of the group, which meant that the amount of drinking you, Katara, and Sokka were doing went unchecked.

And so five shots later, you were chittering away in Aang’s ear, most of your words slurred and incomprehensible, and the ones that the Avatar could make sense of, still didn’t make any sense.

“Toads.  That’s all” You said when Aang had thrown you a confused look, causing you to repeat whatever strange thing you’d just said that he didn’t understand.

“Right...” The boy mumbled, brows furrowing as he turned to the person on his other side, who was laughing at his own jokes that no one had heard.  “Hey Sokka?”

The laughing boy made a loud humming sound to show he was listening, his slightly hooded eyes meeting Aang’s the way Toph’s would.

Sokka was looking at the arrow tattoo on Aang’s forehead rather than his eyes.

“Is (y/n) always this much of a lightweight?” Aang asked, worriedly.  “She’s only had two shots” 

Sokka burst into boisterous laughter that echoed around the entire pub- probably annoying the other patrons but since he was with the Avatar no one was going to complain- while (y/n) giggled into her hands.

“Nice job!” Sokka declared, reaching over Aang to high five his best friend.

“What? What’s happening?” Aang asked, his confusion only increasing with everything Sokka did.

“I had- like- I dunno, Sokka how much did I have?” (y/n) asked.

“I dunno, five? Six?” The boy shrugged his shoulders.

“(y/n)!” Aang scolded.  “You’re supposed to be telling me when you’re drinking, I’m supposed to be keeping tabs on you!” 

“Sokka had like seven!” (y/n) argued, and Aang swiveled around to deliver the same scolding on the boy.

“Sokka!” 

“(y/n)!” Sokka whined.

With the Avatar’s back turned, (y/n) quickly flagged down the bartender and threw back a sixth shot of whiskey.  Aang would have never noticed, had Sokka not tattled.

“She just took another one!” 

Aang spun around once more, just in time to see (y/n) setting the tiny empty glass back on the bar.

“(y/n)!” Aang shrieked.

This got the attention of Katara, who had been at a music box trying to find a good song.  She wasn’t nearly as drunk as her brother and friend, but she was still pretty buzzed.  Enough to start laughing along with them while Aang freaked out.

“I’m fine, it’s fine!” (y/n) said, putting her hands up to show her innocence.  “I can handle it” 

“Hey (y/n),” Sokka called, getting the girl’s undivided and drunken attention.  “I saw a toad over there” He said, pointing down the bar.

“Really?” 

(y/n) leapt off her stool in a second, her features brightening and her voice raising a couple octaves from excitement.

It was adorable, and worth it, but Sokka couldn’t contain his laughter.

Aang rolled his eyes.  Both of his friends were beyond saving.

Katara appeared next to him then, her smile a little lopsided as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry so much,” She says.  “This is just how they get” 

“I’m going to get some fresh air!” You declared, louder than you needed to, before walking as normally as you could- which was stumbling- out of the bar.

“She’s probably just gonna-”

“Yeah, she’s looking for toads” Sokka confirmed before Aang could finish his sentence.

Before Aang could ask him, the Water Tribe boy had already gotten out of his seat and followed her outside.

“See?” Katara said, motioning to the door Sokka had just slipped out of.  “They’ll be fine.  They look out for each other.  They’re in love you know” 

“I know” Aang sighed, remembering all too well what it was like to be around the angsty pair of friends during their travels.

But since the war had ended, Sokka and (y/n) didn’t get together like everyone thought they would.  Sure, there was the complication that they were best friends, and they were both too shy to make the first move or ruin their friendship, but everyone had thought that they would be together by now.

The longer neither of them made a move, the more their feelings began to swallow them whole.

“You good?”

You spun around from where you were balancing on the curb of the sidewalk, grinning from ear to ear as you saw Sokka there.

With surprising grace, you skipped up to him, not once tripping on the curb.  Sokka was impressed, because he definitely couldn’t keep his balance simply standing on the curb.

“Sokka!” You called for him with nothing short of delight, and as you reached him, your hands grabbed ahold of his shoulders.

He couldn’t tell if it was so you could balance yourself, or if it was just because you were more affectionate when you drank.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I need your help!” You tell him, eyes blowing wide. “With what?”

“With finding the toads,” You told him in all seriousness.  “I know that there has to be some around here, I just can’t find ‘em” 

He chuckles at your antics, but nods his head before following you along the sidewalk as you kept your eyes out.

“I feel bad” You say after a few minutes of teas searching.

“Sick bad?” Sokka asked, ready to take you to the nearest garbage bin if you were going to throw up.

“No,” You answer.  “Just bad-bad” 

“What about?”

“For lying to Aang and drinking too much,” You tell him, your lips tugging into a frown.  “Because now he’s worried and I didn’t wanna worry him, just wanted ta’ mess with him a lil’ bit” 

Your eyes are round and sad, and if Sokka didn’t know any better he’d have thought you were going to cry.  But you didn’t usually get the kind of drunk where you poured your emotions out and burst into tears.

You got the kind of drunk where you held on to him and didn’t shy away from looking him in the eyes.  You got the kind of drunk where you’d take him on a little mini adventure, like toad catching, while your friends were busy.

He started to realize that he really liked drinking with you, because it was the only time where it felt the way things used to.  The unspoken thing between you lingered, and it almost felt like you were more than just friends.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about it” Sokka said, patting your head for emphasis.

A blush crept over your cheeks as you giggled, any negative emotion you felt before disappearing at Sokka’s comforting voice.

As you smiled up at him, you caught something move out of the corner of your eye, and the almost intimate mood between you was gone as you whirled around.

“Toad!” You screeched, kneeling down to the ground and catching the creature in your hands with great swiftness.

Sokka had forgotten you were such a good hunter when you were younger, of course you would use your skills as a trained warrior to catch an animal friend in your drunken haze.

“He’s so big!” You said with delight, lifting the animal cupped in your hands up to your face.  “Hello” You whispered.

To Sokka’s surprise, the animal croaked back at you.  You didn't seem as surprised, but you were very much delighted at it’s return of your greeting.

But when you leaned in closer to the animal, Sokka intervened.

“What are you doing!?” He shrieked, reaching to take the toad from your hands.

“I was gonna give him a tiny kiss!” You said, and Sokka held back a gag.

“(y/n), no” 

“(y/n) yes!” 

However before you could go through with it, the little amphibian jumped from your hands, and was scurrying back along the street.

You frowned as the toad ran away, and you waved goodbye.

Sokka laughed, and took your hands to help you back up to your feet.

“Come on sweetheart, we walked too far, we should go back to the bar”

You didn’t say anything, but followed by his side.

“Can you believe it’s been two years?” You asked, referencing the war.  “I can’t believe it still” 

“We’ve been busier than ever, it flies by fast” Sokka agrees.

You hum, and you take hold of his hand as you continue walking.  

Sokka tries to act casual about it while you intertwine your fingers and swing your hands back and forth to an off-beat rhythm, but his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.

He thinks he might be having a stroke, but he can’t be too sure.

As you near the bar, you slow your pace, and stop just outside the doors.

“I don’t really feel like going back in there” You admit, biting down on your lip as you look up at Sokka.

He seems taller right now, you think.

“I don’t think I’ve grown since the last time I saw you” Sokka says, and your face turns pink at the realization you’d just said that out loud, and not in your head.

He doesn't question your weird comment, probably because he’s had just as much- if not more- to drink as you.

“Do you want to go home?” Sokka asks, but you shake your head.

“No, I just don’t feel like being around a crowd of people right now,” You huff, and let go of his hand to wander closer to the bar.

He thinks you’re going to go inside anyways, but you stop at the brick wall, and lean back against it.

For a few seconds, you rest your eyes, and embrace the cool roughness of the bricks against your back.

“I just wanna hang out with you a lil’ longer” You say, softly.

His heart melts as he smiles back at you, and nods as he comes to stand by your side.

“Fine by me,” He answers, bringing a smile to your own lips.

He loves the way that you smile when you’re drunk, because it always reaches your eyes and makes them shine.  He knows you’re never faking it.

“You’re my favorite company” He says in a cheesy way, and you giggle, but do him one better.

“You’re my favorite person” You respond, sounding far more sincere than his joking tone, and Sokka blinks as he looks at you.

He knows you mean it, because you’re still smiling at him, and you didn’t duck your head and laugh it off after you said.  He also knows you mean it because history had proven it to be true.

You’d known each other for years, you became best friends within a day of your meeting, hell, you followed him around the world because you had more fun with him and the Avatar one a couple days than you had in your Earth Kingdom city all your life.

As you thought about it now- how you left home for a boy when it came down to it- you knew in your heart you made the right decision.  Had you not gone with him that day he and your friends had fled from the Fire Nation, you would have regretted it your whole life.

Maybe you were just a little too drunk and overthinking it all, but your life had gained purpose that day.

It had been quiet since you’d murmured the simple little statement, and with every passing second Sokka swore his heart beat louder.  Soon he knew you’d be able to hear it.

And then it just clicked.

Something in him told him that if he didn’t kiss you now, he might never have the courage or the right moment to again.  And right now, everything seemed to just fall into place.

It helped that when he leaned down towards you, you were quick to reciprocate, all but jumping to the tips of your toes to reach him.

Your lips slotted over his with ease, although it was rushed and a little sloppy, it couldn’t have been a more perfect first kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you pulled him in front of you as you kissed him fervently, trying to make up for the years you spent waiting for him to kiss you.

His hands were everywhere, he didn’t know where to hold you, he just wanted to touch you, to have you in his arms, just to say I took her and I kissed her.

The flew to your hair, tangling in the soft strands that had fallen from your ponytail, before sliding around to cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones and your jaw, tracing and mapping out your face until he was certain he had it committed to memory.  And then they reached down to your hips, grabbing roughly as he brought you impossibly closer to his chest.

He could fell your lips quirk into a smile as you were pressed back against the wall.  Your senses were absolutely flooded by him, and it was more intoxicating than all the liquor you’d both had.

Even after a few minutes of your uncoordinated impromptu drunken make out section, it was still too soon when you parted, breathless, enamored, and a little giggly.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, hands traveling from his neck to his jaw, just to be sure that he wouldn’t move so far that you couldn’t get a good look at him in all of his glowing glory.

“You’re so pretty,” You murmur, your shoulders lowering as you let out a sigh of adoration.  “I’m so in love with you” You add, as if it were as plain and simple as an after thought that ran across your mind. 

Sokka lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, and his arms circle around your waist.

“I think I’m supposed to say that” He says, making you giggle some more, before pulling him back down to you so you can place your lips back on his where they belong.

Not too long after, Aang and Katara come outside to check on you, and the sound of their jaws hitting the ground pulls you from each other, and reminds you that you aren’t in fact the only two people in the world. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[sunflowerdigs]

So, I did a little sarcastic-y review from the salt mines for RNM 3x09. Warnings for excessive sodium content, Maribel mourning, a desire to recycle cardboard, and, of course, Malex opinions. Without further ado:

- Every time Michael smiles I forget for like 5 whole seconds how much I hate that Malex keeps me shackled to this show. Too cute that he brought Alex lunch (and probably hoped he could sneak a glimpse of him) and they're going on their first date (omg omg omg).❤❤❤❤❤

- Kyle should yell at people more. Starting with his garbage friends who left him in a barn without proper triage or jello cups while he was in a coma (why didn't they just keep him at DS if he's having appointments there anyway? Nevermind... ). Alas, he's starting his understandable rage tour with Uncle Edgelord, who, naturally, makes a dramatic statement and tries to leave. I am so glad Kyle called him on that.

- Delmanes would be cute if Greg didn't have the personality of cardboard. They've created a character who is actually only here to remind us of how special and amazing Maria is. Turns out that's not super interesting. And it's so painfully obvious that it's a pair-your-spares situation. I really wish they'd just give her Kyle, he has the patience of a saint. Anyway, Isobel's pigtails are cute af (rip my Isobel/Maria/Kyle heart - I would have taken Isobel interrupting Delmanes and Heather's post with pigtails today as signs if not for genetics).

- Anatsa and Isobel's development seems to have taken place completely off-screen, like everything else gay on this show, so I'm guessing it's gonna stick. Honestly...I guess this is controversial but Isobel and Maria have really good chemistry and a history. I know their bond is supposed to read "sibling" but it doesn't for me. And rather than waste time watching them flirt with these one-note (ah, Greg chimes in right on time with a convenient line any rando could have delivered) LIs, I'd much rather see them get closer. The whole related thing has thrown a wrench into it for me. That said, it's nice to watch a woman be encouraged to go after another woman. 🎉

- Alex the sci-fi/fantasy nerd figuring out immediately that the hallucination is his own subconscious is 100% legit. Much like Kyle not letting his uncle pull a classic tall-dark-and-broody exit, I appreciate Alex's 4th-wall break moment.

- Not Max and Liz proving that discussions about s2 drama can occur on Roswell New Mexico?! What? Must be a straight thing. Lucky them.

- Isobel is actually acting a lot like Sherlock Holmes when he's on a case, from the wardrobe to the focus, and it's hot. Also, totally believable that Isobel would be able to pull up that pod from under the ice because we know she's been training even if it didn't happen onscreen. Because she told us. Just a suggestion.

- I love the idea of Jim Valenti as a double-agent, but I don't see how Eduardo thought he could keep Kyle safe by never knowing him. It feels like there's a lot more here Eduardo isn't saying.

- It wasn't a sister-fight that Maria and Isobel had, but whatever (no one got physically shoved or brought up a horrifying memory from 100000 years ago to shove in someone's face in public - doesn't count).

- Also, why would you waste a glass by throwing it into the fireplace? Wouldn't it just explode back in your face? Man, the show is trying so hard with Maria and Greg, I want to give them some kind of romance-novel award for effort (but not success).

- Not Liz and Max showing us that it's possible to move forward by discussing your past mistakes like adults instead of pretending they didn't happen!? What? Must be a straight thing. Lucky them.

- Draw a line on the bottle? No way, Valenti, he obviously wants you to chuck that whole thing straight into the fire in a fit of passion to prove that his words had an emotional impact.

- Also, Kyle wins the prize for this episode for that speech to Uncle Edgelord. Everyone go home. When do I get a Kyle and Alex spin-off where they travel the world, defying sci-fi tropes and seducing beautiful men and women?

- Not Liz and Max talking loudly about aliens while breaking and entering! This one is actually very believable, I take it back.

- It was idiotic of Liz to trust Heath. And Echo keep having this same fight because MAX IS RIGHT BUT THE SHOW WON'T LET HIM BE. Which is so obnoxious. I would forgive Liz for almost any sin (like, idk, getting a better romantic storyline because she's straight) because she's gorgeous and smart and tough and I wanna go live with her and her mad scientist energy on a deserted island somewhere. But she's being real dumb rn.

- I love the t-shirt and if Vlambase doesn't sell one I will. But he couldn't have held up a radio and blasted some Barry White? I feel like that would have cleared everyone but Alex put of the building real fast. Also, what is time on Roswell NM? Was Alex just setting the alarm every so often for kicks? Does Eduardo really not check in on staff who are working with dangerous technology for days on end? Also, why is this entire plot happening over a single goddamn episode instead of two or more so that we can really feel Alex wasting away under the machine's influence? The reason this twist is at all surprising is also the entire plot's undoing - Alex's demeanor wasn't exactly one of a man obsessed (or an addict, tbh) in his last scene.

- Anyway, back to Rizzoli and Isles. I definitely am always super excited to hear the details of my sister's sex life. All the time. That is totally a sister thing except where it's really not. Do any of these writers actually have a sister? I feel like they must because the Michael/Max/Isobel sibling chemistry is always bang on but Maribel is just...flirty lady city. Oh, and look, the beard just showed up with coffee to cockblock - it really is R&I!

- Back to Alex's plot line, which, much like Isobel's coffee, is Express To-Go. He's become haggard and worn in the time it's taken Michael's mom to find a cute sweater in the void. Seriously, we wasted like 3 whole episodes where Alex was presumably sitting in DS twiddling his thumbs and now he's being worn down by the machine in a single episode? Why didn't this plot start back in episode 3 or 4? Like...look, I don't come on here to be an asshole. But I just really hope they're taking note of what worked this season and what didn't because HOLY PACING FIASCO BATMAN. Just because you're giving us Malex doesn't mean everything else can just be hot garbage (not the acting, Taylor's doing his best to sell this). Also, when did Alex put his leg back on? I have so many questions but they aren't the good kind, so Michael better ride in soon and save this mess.

- Regarding what Nora is saying, it's fine, it makes sense but the zero build up makes it completely ineffective. Alex is afraid he doesn't love enough - it would have been nice to see that over several episodes instead of just being told in a burst of sudden exposition but, you know. Nice straight things we can't have, I guess.

- If Michael and Alex want their relationship to "purr" they could, idk, talk through their past misunderstandings like people in relationships do. Or the show could keep throwing exposition bombs at them, idek.

- Are those empty toilet paper rolls inside the machine? I knew the CW was budget but come on...

- And we finally get the Heath connection and it's to our brand new trope-y character, Wise Old Black Man Dallas. It's surprising but only because the 4th alien didn't exist before this episode. So, good job.

Overall, not the worst episode of RNM ever. I only wondered why I watch this show maybe 3 times this episode. And Michael's enthusiasm for Alex was adorable.

[psychemeanscure]

PART 20 {After two consecutive parts with full Jang Taeyoung, yeah I do need a Sung Eunyoung indeed. Enjoy y’all}

That was the last thing she can remember before she went blackout. Approached by a couple of men after a newly ended meeting. She tried. Tossing her leader bag sling from own shoulder, running after their chase over her, pulling out the only pepper spray weapon she had. Yet, none of that paid way other than her being smelled by a chloroform in handkerchief, then history happened. They successfully taken her.

Regaining consciousness, she learned that her head was actually cloth with garbage bag. Peeking a possible person, she can see but failed as the bag was pure black for her to take chances. Hands tied tightly from behind, both ankles wrapped by metal ropes. Much the duct tape plastered on her lips isn’t helping, useless screaming as only muffled sound is heard. She gave up, as only heavy breaths left.

Until someone finally take it off the bag on her. Meeting the eyes of the person she expected it to be. ‘Veeros Alcaziar.’ Her raging mention in mind. It innocently looks at her surprised as if no idea as well. “It was you?” its disbelieving words even.

‘Cut the act, old hag’ a retort from her mind once again. She may can’t blurt it out yet her blazing glare says it so. “I never thought you’ll be the co-partner of that industrial company director who wasted my money. You see señorita, I invested a sum from that Xi industry knowing that it could profit my business carefully. They promised, I trusted them, and they just flee. I had no choice but to look for the other proprietor hoping to bring back mine. If only I knew you were the other person, I could have just settle to you properly. I’m sorry.”      

Sensing another of her muffling sound, the latter takes away the duct tape without care for she need to whimper in no time. “F*ck you.” Her convicting reply as the old Alcaziar only awed in snigger, revealing its true colors. Sighing as if disappointed on its own action. “Is my acting really that bad to notice easily?” it even snaps his own forehead as if remembering where he slips a word. “Ah! Right. Flee. Tsk, how can I say that when you just met him with your last meeting? What a bad actor I am.”

“Shut the crap out, Señor Alcaziar.”

Her cold stone response, as its evil grimace slowly showed up. “So you knew.” Does, the retaliating laugh resonate the illuminating room. The only hanged fluorescent bulb swaying from the ceiling makes it more irritating. “I thought I have to work too much threat with you but damn my dear Amilia--- oh scratch that, my little Sung Eunyoung-ie… You wholeheartedly offer yourself instead. So proud of you. So like your mother, just as wise as her.”

And it stilled her. For she admits she starts to get nervous by his presence. Given the mere mention of her mother, she knew a glimpse of Pandora’s box will reopen. “W-what do you mean?” her urging eccentricity. Responded by the clicking of its shoes, arms crossed with ascendency, fully welcoming her awaiting answer. “Hm. Alright, let us put it this way.”  Removing its usual cowboy hat he’s wearing by a near table, lighting up own tobacco while pulling out something on its shirt pocket, she acknowledged it. Strands of hair tailed neatly as she can only think of one person. ‘Eomma.’

She never expected the extent of obsession the geezer has, until today. Possessing a part from a deceased is too much considering years had passed already. Inhaling like he has been familiar for such a long time, he reminisces. “God, your mom’s smell lingers my senses over the years still. Such my favorite scent.” Its interleaved remark before turning back at her with the original answer she needed.  

“Have you ever wonder of your mom’s death was actually?”

Blowing the smoke of its tobacco close to her while she remained unwavering, he continued. “Cancer?” his questioning stance after proceeding with another as he shakes his head and takes her chin, up to level his gape.

“She was killed.”

Firm and self-assertive statement before letting go of its hold, opposite to how she’s already clenching her fist tightly from behind. Observant stares from the latter but just a stern look she does. Hot fire ready to explode into her, a little more and she won’t be surprised if she blasts out any time soon.

With a tilting of its head, the old Alcaziar continues. “Brave.” A compliment she did not bother. “You being jeopardize and all, I must say you applaud me with your calmness.” Him, leaning its face closely to her, “Now listen, my sweet little pea…” he speaks. And just like that, she spits him while it’s also too fast for his countered slap.  

It was a hard one. Hard enough to leave a reddened mark on her face. It hurts her, yes but she holds it in. Letting herself satisfy with her work instead. Her contoured saliva which successfully spread all over the latter’s face gives her pride for she thought it was her chance to fight back just to shiver by his touch after fiercely wiping its own face, cupping her face tracing every part of it like his own. 

“You only had me realize a while ago that you resemble so much of your mother that I keep stopping myself on hitting you, but just looking by your behavior right now you left me with no choice. The next time you will then I, your father won’t let it slide anymore.”

“You aren’t one to begin with, geezer!”

Dodging her cheeks from his hold, she retorted. “Father! Call me father!” as his domineering affirmation came after an irate throwing of its own tobacco. Eyes of obsession starts to ponder, jaws clenching with delusion. “Your mother died…  Isn’t because of the unexplainable rapid of her cancer but rather she stopped it on purpose.”

A series of sham speech begins to create. “All of it. Each reason, is always because of that Sung Chanhyung! The f*cking coño stole the love of my life from me! You understand that?”

“You have no right!” she countered.

“I met your mother first! And that alone, gives me a right. That crazy s*cker killed her!”

“No, it’s not for you are the crazy one who killed them!!!”

She can’t attain anymore. That with the mere mention of his father being accused, she exploded. Finally, as it’s too fast for another heavy slap to earn a cut on her lips this time. Yet, none of it matters for she’s occupied with one thought and only. As her brows furrows, connecting its illusive stories to reality. Half-truths or not, she can only sum up the emotions her parents felt back then. 

Threatened, deceived, betrayed. Just three things but left a large impact for their blissful family to fall apart. “Is that how the bastardo taught you?! That puto! Why am I surprised, even? He had brainwashed my wife what more with you.”

“She had never been yours!”

“She loved me! And that you should put in mind. We were in love until he came she became unwise, giving her all as sacrifice from that foolish man!”

“Wake up with your f*cking illusion now Señor Alcaziar!”

He’s insane! A very factual word that best describes the man in front of her. That’s for sure. How can she believe him even when she herself was the witness of the unconditional love her parents had for each other? She, who begged for the both of them to share their love story during bedtimes. She, who always wonder about how lovesick they are just by staring gazes. She maybe still a little kid then but for a young age she had once known what true love is. Her parents, was undeniably each other’s first love.      

“Eh. You, stubborn child. You’re being hard to persuade still, huh?” Hair being clutched by the senseless old man, she yelps. By its menacing impatience, she’s cornered. “You better kill me instead, Señor Alcaziar. You will never hear anything from me. Besides, I’m all that you need anyway. What stopping you?”

Her spoken counter finally. But yet until a deafening laughing mockery from the latter. “Oh! No, no, no. You can’t always be exact my kid. I guess I did, at first. I had only asked for you alone, but learning about you further I got to think twice after. Then at second, I thought. Why not a little gratification, right?”        

Seconds later, the once darkened room she’s in, becomes brighter. It relieved her somehow, little not knowing that it would fade away too fast as her eyes begins to go round in shock. She was frightened.

The sight of her foster parents, seen from the monitors of the LCD TV, tied up on a chair unconscious. And to the person whom she never expected to get harmed. Being kneeled helplessly across her, appearance being tormented from its usual dominancy.  A bleeding cut from the eyes streaming on its face, swollen lips that had break its original luscious form, but most specially… the part which worried her too much.

Its wounded stomach. 

“No…”

“No, no, no.”

‘This can’t be real.’ Her disbelieving pushing of her own thoughts as she shakes her head hoping that is was all a dream. But it’s not. Her shuddered eyes never left the figure in front of her. Twisting herself trying to get away from her own situation even if it means failing. “There you are, Mi niña.”

Not even the voice of the crazy Spaniard bothered her for all she could think of is him.

And like a sinking lioness, she bawled.

Into what just the hell happened?!

“Jang Taeyoung!”

[365days365movies]

March 4, 2021: Spirited Away (2001) (Part One)

Having not seen this already is one of my great shames.

Yeah, I should’ve seen this by now, right? I mean, this is the only foreign language and 2D-animated film to win the Oscar for Best Animated Film, considered by most to be the greatest animated movie of all time, and it was the highest grossing film in Japanese box office history, until something else came along this year.

I should also watch Demon Slayer at some point, huh? Well, anyway, yeah, this movie has been on my list for years, but I’d never gotten around to it...until today! Now that I’ve watched Kiki’s, finally, I can get to the almost universally considered Miyazaki’s best. Will I like it as much, though? Well, we’ll see, huh?

And I probably should have some big preamble here, right? I mean, most of my other recaps start with a few paragraphs worth of content, dotted with pictures in order to break up the text monotony; that’s my typical formula. But, uh...I dunno. I got nothin’. Mostly because I don’t know anything about this movie going in.

So, yeah, fuckit. Let’s just get started here, I’m pumped! Been pumped for years. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Chihiro (Daveigh Chase) and her parents have just moved from their home to a new pace, and Chihiro’s not super happy about it. I get it, Chihiro, we moved a lot as a kid. On the way there, they get lost, and end up entering a forest with shrines at the entrance. Chihiro’s dad is a...reckless-as-FUCK driver.

They finally end up at a building with an open doorway. Chihiro’s a bit creeped out by the whole thing, especially as there are shrines all over the place that make her uncomfortable. Chihiro’s folks go through the archway and enter an old decrepit train station.

They exit through another door, and see a vast green field, dotted with shrines and broken down buildings. Chihiro’s father believes that it’s an abandoned theme park, which seems...wrong. Chihiro stays behind for a second and hears the building moaning. Chihiro’s parents continue to make their way through the park, as they smell food, and find themselves hungry. 

But the park is still completely abandoned, with not one person in sight. And yet, somebody’s making food, and it’s fresh. So, they do what anybody in their position would do: they eat the SHIT out of it. Chihiro doesn’t, but her parents go ham on it. Seriously, they pig out on this shit. Frustrated, Chihiro walks away and continues to explore the park.

A giant ornamented pagoda-style bathhouse stands tall above the rest, seemingly new and running. This is where she encounters both the train and a small boy, around her age. He warns her to leave, and get back across the river near the entrance.

Chihiro runs away, and goes to get her parents, who are still pigging out.

Ah. Well. Chihiro doesn’t realize that these pigs are her parents, and runs away in fear. She stops by a full river, and sees a vast glittering city in the distance. Meanwhile, spirits gather in the formerly decrepit park. Chihiro, believing this to be a dream, tries to wake herself up. In her chanting, she ends up becoming somewhat invisible.

Meanwhile, a riverboat comes closer, carrying spirits whose bodies materialize as the touch the shore and enter the park. Chihiro runs away, scared and disappearing. Soon, the boy from before catches up to her. This is Haku (Jason Marsden), and he brings Chihiro food from this world, which she must eat or risk disappearing. Very mythological, I like it.

By this point, Chihiro has realized that the pigs were her parents, and asks Haku if she can see them. He says that he will eventually, but they must run away quickly, as a mysterious bird with the face of an old woman is hovering above, potentially looking for Chihiro.

Haku takes Chihiro to the bathhouse, and instructs her not to breathe, as the creatures around them will see her is she even slightly breathes. They cross the bridge, and Chihiro is almost spotted. Haku takes her into hiding, as the word of a human’s presence breaks out. Haku instructs her to make her way to the boiler room to find Kamaji, the Boiler Man, and insist on getting a job or risk being turned into an animal by the owner of the bathhouse, Yubaba.

Haku wishes her good luck by name, which she questions. He says that he’s known her since she was very small. My girlfriend begins laughing maniacally, which probably means nothing. Chihiro, still quite afraid, makes her way to the boiler room.

There, we meet Kamaji (David Ogden Stiers), a multi-armed man that runs the boiler for the bathhouse, and commands dozens of spider-like soot spirits to do his bidding. This dude is a cross between Eggman and Doctor Octopus, and I love him. The soot ball spirits, too, while we’re at it. I recognize these guys from My Neighbor Totoro! Or their relatives, anyway. They’re cute, no matter what.

Chihiro saves one from being crushed, and is told to “finish what she’s started”. She carries the rock, which is seemingly super-fucking-heavy, and throws it into the boiler. Once she does this, all of the soot balls begin dropping the rocks onto themselves to get Chihiro to do it for them. I love them.

Kamaji tries to stop Chihiro from working, which is when his granddaughter, Lin (Susan Egan), shows up with lunch for Kamaji and the soot balls, and sees Chihiro. She notes that his is big trouble, but Kamaji tells her to take Chihiro to the owner, Yubaba, to properly inquire for a job with his recommendation. Reluctantly, she takes her to the top floor of the bathhouse via elevator.

We see the various spirits in the bathhouse, which is a great time to note the fact that this movie looks fucking FANTASTIC, and the art direction already gets a 10/10 from me, without any argument. This would be even better if I were fully beefed-up on my knowledge of the various Japanese spirits. 

On the way up, a Radish Spirit (Jack Angel) follows them to another elevator, and Chihiro ends up stuck with him in an elevator going up. He helps her get to the top floor, where Yubaba’s quarters are. And it’s here that we finally meet Yubaba (Suzanne Pleshette), a powerful spirit in her own right.

Yubaba is definitely not warmed to the presence of a human here, as humans have long abused the world that the spirits reside in. This includes her parents, who ate the food of the spirits like, well...pigs. She zips Chihiro’s mouth shut as she rants, but once she unzips it again, she repeatedly asks her for a job.

Yubaba isn’t pleased with this, and lemme say, she’s fucking TERRIFYING. As she goes after Chihiro more directly, the assault is interrupted by Yubaba’s baby waking up, and Yubaba hastily accepts her offer to work for her. Chihiro signs her name away, and Yubaba quite literally takes it, giving her the name “Sen” in exchange.

She summons Haku, who takes her away and pretends not to know her. He also tells her not to talk to him as they go down to find her a job. Nobody’s willing to work with a human, and Haku eventually assigns her to work as Lin’s assistant. Chihiro doesn’t feel very good, and that’s not helped by the fact that Haku was rather mean to her in the elevator.

The morning comes, and the spirits each retire to their domains, with Yubaba using her cloak to turn into a bird-like creature and fly away. Which I totally love, by the way. Chihiro, however, has not slept, and has in fact been crying and shaking with fear the entire night. Haku finds her like this, and tells her to meet him at the bridge, where he’ll take her to her parents.

With a new pink outfit in tow (and shoes protected by the soot spirits), she takes off to the bridge to meet Haku. But also lingering on the bridge is a mysterious spirit whom I already know as No-Face (Bob Bergen). He’s a pretty recognizable character from the film. When she crosses the bridge, No-Face disappears, and Haku is waiting on the other side.

Haku takes her to the pigsty, where her parents are. They no longer remember their identity as humans, and astonishingly, Chihiro refers to herself as “Sen,” the name that Yubaba gave her. Yeah, she doesn’t remember her own name, until Haku gives her back her old clothes to hide. In them is a goodbye card from one of her friends, with her name written in it. Yubaba controls people by taking their names, which is some old-school mythology shit, boy!

Chihiro thanks him, and he gives her food to help her regain her strength. This causes her to sob while stuffing rice into her face, which the girlfriend has referred to as a big mood. Chihiro goes back, and sees that Haku (not his real name, as Yubaba has taken it) is flying away, as a white dragon.

From there, she goes to work cleaning the bathhouse with Lin and the other workers in her department. In the process, she also lets No-Face into the building. He later repays the favor by helping her get a needed wash token from the human-hating foreman. Yubaba, meanwhile, senses that something is coming, slinking about in the rain. She refers to it as useless scum, and it is indeed a big pile of scum, and an intruder to the bathhouse.

The other attendants of the bathhouse seem to think that it’s a stink spirit, although Yubaba isn’t sure. She commands Chihiro to attend to it, and it is...gross as SHIT. It apparently smells EXTREMELY bad, and this entire sequence is...viscerally gross. Dude is DISGUSTING.

However, through all of that shit (literally), Chihiro manages not only to attend to the spirit, but also finds some kind of thorn in his side Yubaba then realizes that something is wrong, and gets everyone else to help. They tie a rope to the object, and they pull it out together, with Chihiro at the head.

They pull it out, only to reveal a MASSIVE pile of human garbage. Once it’s all out, the spirit reveals itself to be not a stink spirit, but a polluted River Spirit (Jim Ward), who thanks Chihiro for her assistance. He pays the place a HELL of a lot of money, and Yubaba congratulates Chihiro directly for her good work.

THAT is a good place to pause! See you in Round Two!

[knightsandjedis]

Let the pettiness commence

Let me be frank here when stating that if the quarantine weren’t happening I would probably remain the type of blogger to just re-blog posts without commenting or making my own posts. I enjoy looking at things more than commenting what can I say? I should say thanks and welcome to all the followers I’ve gained these past few years. You all are awesome and hope you all are staying safe during these troublesome times!

Alright, I’m going from civil to petty here and I should forewarn you if you’re a fan of Sarah J. Maas and her novels you’ll prefer to stay away then listen to my rant. Just being polite and giving a heads up.

Listen, there are periods where atrocious books become a major part of trending pop culture. Eventually, the hype dies down and people can take a deep inhale of relief. Around the 2010s time-period, the hype was focused on Twilight books. No matter where you went you felt suffocated by the hyper-fixation people had on this series. I’ll be honest I was an avid Twilight lover for a period until I wised up and had to recognize these books are horrendous and having a bad influence on teens during my era. Teens were getting Aids from drinking each other’s blood literally, they were drinking someone’s blood literally. While they’re still popular main society’s attention has begun to wane.

Pop culture has an new interest in Sarah J. Maas’s series: Throne of Glass (ToG) and A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR). At one time I was part of the fan-base obsessed with her books. During a bleak period where every book I purchased ending up a dud despite strong premises; Maas’s first books, in both series, were a breath of fresh air. They had characters you found hysterical and enjoyed the story-lines (even though the storytelling was meh at times) and you couldn’t help anticipating future novels to see where the novels took these characters. Both series died for me at the books: Queen of Shadows and A Court of Mist and Fury.

These novels were my wake-up call to Maas’ manipulative storytelling patterns and her inconsistent characterizations. She completely morphs characters depending on the scenario. A noble, decent character is turned heinous to either add unnecessary drama or to make readers turn their affections towards another character Maas’ manipulates into becoming “the hero”- typically a love interest. Usually, the first-or second in TOG- love interests are noble characters with a few flaws but nothing to make readers despise them other than the fact they’re not the prettiest men in the series. Literally, readers adore the male characters that are otherworldly attractive than an average looking male who is humane and unproblematic. Problematic much? The message I’m receiving is you should fall in love with a pretty face rather than explore the person’s entire being (this includes past history, personality, characterization, etc).

People will say I’m petty because I’m annoyed Chaol and Tamlin did not remain the love interests. This is absolutely untrue. I’m annoyed Maas had to pull absolute garbage reasoning out of her ass to make the characters despicable.

Let’s start with Throne of Glass. Celaena (I refuse to call her Aelin because the name visually repulses me, it sounds like something Maas stole out of better high fantasy novels) realizes she doesn’t find Dorian compatible and finds Chaol more of an equal. Chaol has flaws but his main one seems to be he’s good-looking but only average in comparison to Dorian and Rowan- whose sex on legs apparently. Maas realizes people will deny Rowan as a love interest (after he gets into a punching match with Celaena) so she has to make Celaena despise Chaol and interact towards him with hostility despite her recognition Chaol had his reasoning's for certain events in previous novels. Then, Maas takes Chaol’s character, who is known for being awkward around women and loyal to a fault, and make him have one night stands, cheating on women, and apparently the scapegoat for everything that goes wrong because Celaena can’t own up she made mistakes. Nehemia also died to give Celaena that necessary push to go against the king but it’s entirely Chaol’s fault for Nehemia’s death since Celaena can do no wrong. Horseshit I say.

Dorian is not a match, Chaol is the bane of Celaena’s existence so Rowan is her champion. Gag. I actually liked Rowan in Heir of Fire but I found it repulsive how Celaena keeps throwing herself at him in Queen of Shadows and growing dependent on him. When she put him in a bath and started throwing her favorite shampoos in I found it to be the most awkward scene. It’s a moment someone with limited knowledge of sexual encounters would conjure up. “Let me give my love interest a bubble bath!” I’ve read these type of bath scenes in other novels but they’re more maturely done. Although I have to remember these books are written for teens. Then, they become mates. A contradicting setup because he had a mate in the past. But, no one is compatible unless they’re mates in Maas’ world. So, mates are stuck together and seem to have a servant/master relationship in certain portions of the stories. Yuck, just yuck.

Readers if you have to state someone is someone else’s mate so you’re aware they’re a thing then it’s probably not a healthy relationship since you’re staying they own that person in Maas’ world-building.

I’m going to stop while I’m ahead when writing about Rowan and Caelena because they repulse me. Buuuttt not to the same extent as Feyre and Rhysand. I absolutely despise these characters with every fiber of my being. This is one of the most unhealthiest relationships I’ve ever read. Before I jump into why they’re disgusting let me just say I love how everybody hopped on the Feyre adoration bandwagon only when she got into a relationship with Rhysand. Nobody liked her until she got.into.a.relationship.with.Rhysand. Wow!

Listen, I understand why Feyre couldn’t stay with Tamlin after what he did (ahem what Maas decided he should do). However contradictory Tamlin’s characterization was the relationship had turned unhealthy. Yetttt, no one batted an eye with Rhysand was giving Feyre date rape drugs, forcing her to give him lap dances making her sick when she came out of the haze, and her being entirely repulsed when he made-out with her. Plus, I read Rhysand as a gay or bi character when he was introduced. I think he would be a better character as a gay male seeking a friendship than their disgusting love story. He goes from giving her roofies and at least seeming like a morally gray character to Feyre’s champion. Yeah, not buying the bullshit.

I pity Tamlin’s character truly- he was butchered beyond recognition. He goes from allowing Feyre to wander to her heart’s extent- as long as she wasn’t in dangerous areas- to locking her up because he thought it made sense. He’s suddenly possessive of her in the most disgusting ways (but Rhysand isn’t possessive in the slightest even when he calls Feyre his “mate!”). All these details were added to make Rhys’ character more heroic. Rhys goes from being a somewhat tolerable character in his actions to a fucking messiah. Rhysand goes from roofie expert to whisking Feyre away for her own safety. Rhysand assists Feyre under the mountain unlike Tamlin! (Because the queen didn’t give a shit about Rhysand and he wasn’t under her radar to the extent as Tamlin). He loves reading stories with Feyre unlike Tamlin. (Hmm, Tamlin offers to teach Feyre to read which she stubbornly refuses because she’s independent but Rhysand forces her to learn and he’s romantic!). And gasp, Tamlin ended up being the one who murdered Rhysand’s family hence their animosity (hahahaha how desperate are you Maas, I mean seriously how pathetic). Feyre, just like Caelena, was forced into this relationship with another abuser painted as a hero in storytelling. Rhysand and Rowan are constructed into heroes to make their disgusting actions justifiable in comparison to Chaol and Tamlin’s ruined characters.

I’m mostly focused on the main relationships since that’s all I keep hearing about. Changing subjects briefly, Maas’ does not acknowledge PoC or LGBTQIA unless readers are pointing out lack of representation. If they’re introduced you’re guaranteed either they die to promote the white lead’s agenda or forced to become a villain. What kind of statement does that make, Maas???? Also, her world-building is beyond odd. Random characters get introduced in weird scenarios that she has to force into the story-line just for sprucing purposes (Manon and the 12 and the 12 princesses from Earth or whatever). Really, what were the purposes of these characters???? And these kingdoms are written so bad. One realm has everyone wearing Renaissance era clothing while the next realm has people dressing hipster I mean wtf?

The reason for my rant is that I needed to get it out of my system. Lately, I cannot get away from these garbage novels. I’m on my Kindle the books are recommended. I’m on Goodreads her books are recommended and keep winning Book of the Year despite better novels being on the same list. I go on Facebook someone mentions deciding to give the series a spin under quarantine. I’m on tumblr (if you’re a fan then that’s fine, enjoy what you love) and artwork keeps popping up. I love it’s typically Feyre giving Rhysand lap-dances in the earlier part of the series where she’s desolate and sicken by these moments. People are quite forgetful when they want to ignore something in order to make Rhysand babe. I wish I knew how to block anything Sarah J Maas on here because I’m trying to escape. I want to read other authors’ novels and not have Maas’ smug face pop up on my recommendation lists. (Her books are on every list on Goodreads- every freaking list!) Hopefully, when quarantine ends the hype will quiet again but I’m getting ticked off here.

Just had to get it off my chest. I’ll probably go back to quietly ignoring the recommendations and artwork but I’m having a moment here.

[cyberwolfwrites-fanfiction]

a family's bond - chapter two

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/29878746/chapters/73715106#workskin)

words: 3717

summary:

"I hate it here," Peter whispered.

"I know," said Harley tiredly. They were curled up on the top bunk of their bunk bed together. They craved genuine physical affection after too many months of being touch-starved or physically hurt—there was no in-between—and being on the top bunk meant that they were harder to reach.

Dan was in his bedroom down the hall snoring off the alcohol. He'd gotten rejected for the promotion he'd been working towards for the past year and he'd drowned his sorrows in a bar somewhere before coming home to take out his frustration on them. He'd been too drunk and uncoordinated to cause any lasting harm—or harm that should have obviously still been there a day later—but the encounter had shaken them, Peter especially.

He'd come from a loving home, but in the matter of minutes both of his remaining family members had bled out in front of him and he'd been tossed in the system. He wasn't used to the harsh cruelties of the world—though he'd gotten a taste of it when he was four and eight, respectively—and it had left him reeling.

"I wish we could just... leave," Peter mumbled.

"Me, too."

"Ugh, disgustoso! I'm gonna puke," Harley gagged, recoiling away from the dumpster and making the lid fall with a clang. Peter chuckled to himself and sent an amused glance at his foster brother, glad that he was upwind from the dumpster. He could still smell it from clear across the alleyway—not only had his sense of smell become enhanced with the spider bite, but everything was smelling so fresh due to the snowfall earlier today—and he was glad that he didn't get the brunt of the smell like Harley.

"Stop laughing!" Harley hissed, shoving his tattered scarf against his nose. "Penso letteralmente che qualcosa sia morto lì dentro." Peter grimaced at the imagery. With their luck, something probably did die in there at some point.

"Tell me about it," he muttered as he nudged a suspicious-looking box. "I fell in there last night."

Harley winced. It had been Peter's turn to patrol last night and he had literally come home smelling like a dumpster; now he knew why. They'd ended up having to throw away his suit—a pair of old sweats and a stained hoodie—because the smell of garbage had also been paired with a six-inch gash along the side and a rip in the pantlegs. Until they completed the suits they were working on (hand-sewing was not a fast process and they were rather rubbish at it, so that lead to a lot of start-overs), Peter would have to share Harley's. It was that or use his old dancing clothes, and he was too attached to them to risk them being burnt, ripped, or blood-stained.

Harley wasn't too happy with that as that meant that they would have to clean his suit twice as often and risk Dan finding out, but it wasn't like Peter could just throw on a random pair of joggers. Their suits had to look the same because they had agreed that there would only be one Spider-Man, and they intended to keep it that way unless there was a big fight that required more than one person to show up. So far there hadn't been any big fights that they couldn't handle on their own (though Harley argued that Peter should have told him about Toomes), and it also meant that if one of them happened to get kidnapped, the other would (hopefully) be able to find them without getting the police involved.

Last night, Peter had ended up getting tossed in the dumpster during a fight and he had spotted some junk electronics that had been thrown up. He hadn't anticipated it snowing while they were at school so now they had to dig around to find the boxes he'd seen and he wasn't even sure if anything was salvageable. He hoped that since it hadn't rained and that everything was more or less frozen that nothing had gotten water damage.

While Harley rifled through some boxes next to the dumpster, muttering Italian swears under his breath that Peter had taught him, Peter toed at a box flap and nudged the box away when all it held were old newspapers. He wasn't sure where the boxes full of electronics he'd spotted last night were since he'd only gotten a glimpse and things had been tossed around during the fight.

Peter and Harley made some light conversation in Italian, though Peter had to correct some of Harley's pronunciations and fill in the blanks when Harley didn't know a word. While Harley was decent at the language, he wasn't fluent since he still struggled to translate sometimes and it wasn't automatic like Peter, and they hadn't taken much time recently to converse in it to make sure the language stuck, so Harley was a bit rusty. They mostly stuck to easy subjects like school; they had a History test in a week that they had neglected to study for—it's not that they were bad at history, it was just boring sometimes, and who had time to study when you could be catching bad guys?—and they talked some about their shared English project—they might be able to easily read complex algorithms or equations, but they still struggled with reading Shakespeare—and the conversation eventually tapered off as they tried to find the electronics so they could get back to the apartment.

It was freezing out, and ever since the spider bite, Peter and Harley had struggled to keep warm. Even through two pairs of gloves and multiple layers of clothing, Peter's teeth were beginning to chatter and his fingers were starting to get numb . From the corner of his eye, he spotted Harley shivering and he was just about to say that they should come back later—it was supposed to get warmer tomorrow—when Harley hauled up a box with a successful cry.

"L'ho trovato!" he crowed. "It was buried under a few other boxes."

Peter stumbled over and looked in the box Harley was holding effortlessly. It was full of what looked to be DVD players and radios and some other things, some of which looked like someone had taken a hammer to them. He reached in and pulled out a circuit board with some frayed wires attached to it.

"Could be useful," he muttered, dropping it back into the box. "Let's go, sto congelando!"

Harley shivered, no doubt agreeing with his statement.

They got back to the apartment in record time and swiftly changed out of their damp clothes, which they promptly shoved into the washer. They had only hung around the alley for a total of twenty-to-thirty minutes before leaving, but the stink of the garbage managed to saturate their clothing. Peter was pretty sure that their stuff stank so bad that even someone without enhanced senses could smell it. While Harley hopped in the bathroom for a quick shower, Peter got the washing machine running and began looking through the box of stuff they managed to procure.

As he'd seen earlier, there were a few old DVD players and some radios, but there were also some circuit boards and some random electronic parts like what looked to be a fan motor, as well as some remote-controlled cars, too. He sorted the items into different categories; parts, repair, useful, not useful, and trash. Some of the DVD players or radios could be fixed to sell for some extra cash, but some of them were too old or were too broken that could be taken apart for parts. The same could be said for the circuit boards and random electronic parts; some could be salvaged for future use while others were trash. The remote-control cars were staying, even the broken ones. The motors and controls could be used for webshooters or just be something to tinker with.

It didn't take long, only about ten minutes, until Peter heard the shower shut off. He pushed some of the stuff away so that Harley could have some space to manoeuvre and he grabbed his own shower things and clothes.

"I tried to be quick but hot water seems to be broken," Harley announced as he walked into the room, towelling his hair.

Peter mentally groaned, hoping that the water would at least be lukewarm. "I'll see if I can fix it after I shower, if not Dan's gonna be pissed," he sighed before pointing at a pile. "In the meantime, you strip those for parts and double-check the trash pile."

Harley looked at the assortment of items on the ground, taking in the various piles Peter had made. "Will do," he muttered, tossing his towel into the hamper.

By the time Peter finished showering and checking the water heater—one of the valves got stuck and the relief valve was loose—Harley was already a good two-thirds of the way through tearing apart the "parts" pile. The trash pile was gone, having been thrown in a grocery bag or two and tossed down the floor's trash chute, no doubt.

Peter finished drying his curly hair—it was long enough to cover his ears as he hadn't gotten it cut in a year, though Harley's wavy hair was longer, long enough to pull up into a small bun—and quietly joined Harley in pulling apart the rest of the DVD players and radios. Neither of them bothered to speak and Peter allowed his senses to fade out slightly, somewhat thankful that they were beginning to dull the longer either of them went without proper nutrition.

It was slightly worrying, the way that his senses were fading. They were still much better than a regular human's, but they definitely weren't up to par with how good they'd been when they had first gotten bit and had been somewhat healthy. Harley didn't know and Peter didn't intend to tell him because he didn't want his foster brother to worry. While he feared that his strength and agility and the other enhancements he'd gotten that made him Spider-Man would fade, too, he enjoyed the slight reprieve on his senses which had been dialled to eleven since the spider bite. (The slight blurring of his vision on bad days was a disappointment, though, he would probably need glasses soon, which meant that Harley would find out.)

The reprieve meant that he could easily ignore the cars down below or the neighbours talking, and he instead enjoyed the quiet atmosphere that was only unsettled by the sound of the DVD players or radios being taken apart and moved around. Eventually, they finished taking everything apart and moved onto completing their homework. While Peter knew that they should probably discuss their project for the Stark Industries Internship Competition—it was only a few days after they'd gotten their forms, but they only had a month to make a working prototype—he didn't want to ruin the peaceful silence and it didn't seem like Harley wanted to, either.

That calm feeling faded quickly.

The next week was full of Peter and Harley studying frantically for their history test, scrambling to finish their English essay, as well as studying for almost all of their subjects as they were all seemed to be finishing units at the same time. There was also patrolling and working on their internship project; they were staying up later and later, and instead of working together, they had to split up the project into different parts.

The only thing that stopped Peter from going crazy was the fact that Dan was on a two-week-long work trip, and he was willing to bet that Harley was feeling the same. They didn't have to worry about staying quiet in the evenings, they could take longer showers, and they also didn't have to commune to the old, no doubt freezing office building where their makeshift workshop was. Instead, they could work in the comfort of the living room and they could even stay after school to get the coding done without worrying about time. So long as they kept everything clean and made sure to put away their tools before Dan got back, then they were golden.

The second week into Dan's absence was much more successful than the first week, though no less stressful. Now that their tests were completed and their essays were turned in, they could focus completely on their project. The coding turned out to be more complex than either of them had been anticipating and Peter ended up having to order some chemicals online that he needed. He sent them to a P.O. box—because there was no way in hell was he risking Dan finding out that he was buying stuff—but couldn't afford the express shipping, which meant that he drove himself crazy coming up with various chemical formulas and ways to make the "fabric."

They ended up having to take multiple breaks via Spider-Manning and focused on the actual construction of their project to get rid of the stress. The tablet that would display the injuries was an easy fix as it just needed a new battery and screen, which were bought at a cheap parts store, and they managed to figure out how the pressure thing was actually going to work. Usually, someone just stretched the cloth while it was attached to a multimeter (amongst other things, but that was the simplest explanations), but they planned to have something that was worn and got stretched often. They also planned to monitor vitals, as well, which would be difficult if they were using a multimeter.

They did, however, use a multimeter on their first attempt. Peter basically attached a crap ton of wires to an old t-shirt and pressed on it to make sure it worked. (Spoiler alert; it did.)

By the time the first prototype was complete and some of the complex coding was done, Dan had returned and Peter had received his chemicals and had begun making the cloth in their makeshift workshop. The original idea was to make strands like his webbing and weave them together, but then he realized that the didn't have an industrial loom to weave the webbing, and so he decided to make something that was latex-like by pouring it like you would with resin. The first few test batches weren't particularly successful (one came out sticky, another was stringy like cheese, and the other turned rock solid instead of the stretchy rubbery substance Peter wanted) but he ended up with something he figured was decent enough. It wasn't his best work, and if he'd had access to SI's labs or even a loom it would've done better as a cloth, but he figured it was decent enough for a prototype.

Coding and programming everything and then testing it for bugs was as difficult as Peter and Harley expected. They had to more or less create numerous algorithms for injury identification, and they also had to find out what types of pressures and vital signs equalled what type of injury. They stuck with blunt force trauma as it was the easiest to test. It, unsurprisingly, took a lot of pressure or trauma to break a bone (while Dan had barely managed to fracture or bruise some ribs in his harshes blows, they'd been beaten on pretty badly in their starting out days as Spider-Man, even with their spider-sense to aid them (though Harley's spider-sense was less fine-tuned, for some reason)). As they would have had to do a lot of extra programming and research to know how much force broke a certain body type along with what vitals would look like at that part in time, Peter and Harley only had their pressure ensure catalogue injuries for a grown man's forearm.

By the time they managed to complete the project and make (and practise) a presentation, it was the day of the competition.

***

"Calmati," Harley muttered, nudging Peter's bouncing knee with his own. "We've gone over the presentation a dozen times since last night. Non preoccuparti."

Peter had stopped jiggling his knee at the nudge and instead began to fidget at his dress shirt cuff. Harley self-consciously smoothed down his own dress shirt. Both of them had been thrifted for pretty cheap but they hadn't fit properly, so they'd gotten the old lady down the hall to do it for them in return for them fixing her broken water heater. It was a common, if new, arrangement they had with the woman; if Peter and Harley helped her with whatever housework she needed to be done, she gave them some amateur sewing lessons in return. She'd also allowed them to use a plastic sewing machine she'd originally bought for her granddaughter, but hadn't allowed them to take it from the apartment, which meant that the old lady gave them some odd looks for making what looked like leotards.

Because Peter used to dance, he'd managed to convince the woman that they were making costumes, but that was only after he showed her a (rather sloppy) saut de chat. He used some ballet moves during Spider-Manning (mostly split leaps) but he hadn't been able to properly stretch or even dance in so long. Harley, after learning that he could dance, had managed to convince him to teach him a few moves, but they hadn't taken the time to do anything more in-depth since they were so busy with homework and Spider-Man.

Of course, even after the display, the old woman still looked like she didn't believe them for a single minute. But Peter was pretty confident she didn't know that they'd taken her lessons and had used them to make themselves super suits and to sitch up their own wounds if they ended up getting shanked. (Which happened more often than either of them cared to admit.)

Still, she'd been kind enough to tailor their shirts for them. They still didn't fit properly—they were too baggy around the middle and somewhat tight around their shoulders and chest—but they looked better on them than they originally had. They hadn't been able to buy any dress pants in their size that were cheap enough, so they currently wore their best pair of jeans. Both were black and Peter thought they matched pretty well. Well enough that they might even be mistaken as brothers, though that was wishful thinking.

Peter had always wanted a sibling when he was younger and Harley was the closest he had to one. However, they were only foster brothers and one misstep from either of them could get them separated, and the thought filled Peter with anxiety. He'd latched onto Harley as the first kind person he'd seen since his aunt and uncle died and he knew that Harley had latched on just as tight.

The doors opening caught Peter and Harley's attention and Peter looked up from his shirt sleeves to see who entered. The room they were in was packed full of people from the surrounding tech schools so it wasn't a surprise that he'd been unable to hear any approaching footsteps, and there was also the fact that he'd been so nervous that he hadn't been focusing on his senses too much.

Peter let out a surprised noise and stood respectfully as the CEO of Stark Industries, better known as Pepper Potts, entered. He hadn't known that the woman would show up and it made him tug on his clothes self-consciously. He noticed Harley doing the same.

"Good morning, everyone, and welcome to Stark Industries," Ms Potts said, causing everyone to quiet immediately. Peter was a little awed at how swiftly she managed to get the room to quiet, though he supposed that was due to being the CEO of SI and an extremely powerful businesswoman in her own right. "As I'm sure you all know, you've been invited here as a part of the Stark Industries Internship Competition, where only a select few of you who meet our specialists' criteria will be chosen for an internship here at SI.

"If you've read the permission forms you were given, and I truly hope you have, then you will know that any future interns will be given the chance to refine their project under the watchful and helpful eyes of your superiors, who will advise you in the inner workings of a tech company."

Peter glanced around the room. A good half of the projects he could see appeared to be robots—albeit cool ones—but that didn't look like they properly represented what SI worked towards, which was medical equipment, prostheses, clean energy, and equipment for the country's top authorities; mainly the military, police, and fire departments. The other half appeared to have gone for some type of prostheses or drones, though they didn't look nearly as advanced as the recent prostheses SI had shown to the public. Still, for high school kids that went to the city's top tech schools, the prostheses were pretty advanced. The only real competition Peter saw was the kids who had gone for something challenging like they had, most looking to be medical related.

Peter glanced at his and Harley's project, which suddenly looked so small and mediocre compared to all of the big robots around them. While he knew that making robots wasn't too difficult (he'd made plenty when he'd lived with May and Ben, and he'd competed in robot-building competitions with Ned and Harley before the two of them had to quit robotics club), all they had to show was a piece of cloth and a second-hand tablet. He hoped that the programming they'd come up with and their idea was enough to earn them some points.

"If you would please turn your attention over to here," said Ms Potts, gaining his attention again. She gestured to a group of several men and women, most of whom were dressed in lab coats or office-wear. "These are our heads and specialists in our Research and Development departments. They will be in charge of grading your projects and proposals. As we only have a limited number of specialists compared to how many of you there are, please be aware that not everyone will be able to present right away."

Peter counted just under twenty men and women, and compared to the number of kids he'd counting, that meant that there was something like a three-to-one ratio here. The number seemed daunting. Only a few people would get selected for an internship out of around fifty to sixty students.

"I know it may get tedious to present more than once, but all interns at SI are well acquainted with this, so please be patient," Ms Potts continued explaining. "If you need to leave for any reason, please tell our head of security Mr Hogan. He will write down your name so we can get in contact about presenting at another time."

She gestured to a man who Peter had noticed earlier. He stood silently and stared them all down, brown eyes flickering over all of them with distaste and like he was assessing them. It made him nervous to have such calculating eyes on him, but Peter knew that they'd be dealing with plenty of eyes on him once they began presenting, so he tried his best to shake it off.

"Thank you all for coming here today."

And with that, Ms Potts checked something off on her StarkPad and left, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

[malgal7777]

Hiking with Tracy 2021:  Put it on the board...YES!

I did it!!!!   Woo-Hoo!  I walked 100 miles - almost in the whole month of April.  Since the last weekend of April was a bit of a snow bust, I had to finish my 100 miles this past weekend 5/1-5/2!  And what a way to finish...

I was feeling defeated last week when I wasn’t able to complete the 100 miles up in Tahoe.  I ended up being 17 miles short!  Can you believe that?  17 miles!! And I have a friend, let’s just call him “Barry” who was going to give me the whole $1000 if I was able to do it.  So I really felt down knowing I had blown it.  Blown all that training and blown it for the Ride4Reason fundraiser.  But “Barry” said hey, finish it up this weekend and you’re still in the running.  So I went back to the drawing board to find another route that would push me over the finish line.  But it was Bob who suggested I hike San Francisco.  AND, if I hiked SF, he would be encouraged to join me.  Bob’s a city slicker.  If he goes too far from being able to purchase a newspaper out of a metal box, he gets hives.  So, we mapped out a 10-12 mile route (I had to go easy on the guy) starting from the Ferry Building and walking the circumference of the SF peninsula to Ocean Beach.  It was FAN-TAS-TIC!  WOW.  Just WOW. 

We started at Justin Herman Plaza and since it was May Day we were hoping to find a rally or march happening.  And in perfect SF fashion, we were not disappointed!  Sure enough a large rally was gearing up to head down Market.  I’m going to assume the march was for workers rights, but it was actually unclear to us what their message was.  Not a good sign for a march/rally!

This first stretch of The Embarcadero was a bit sad.  Covid and the lockdowns have definitely taken their toll.  I know it was early and a weekend, but a lot of these businesses are still shuttered and closed.  And there’s a couple of homeless encampments taking over the street car kiosks.  The homeless.  Sooner or later I have to go there.  I can spout my love for California all I want, but it’s California’s biggest shame.  It’s no longer a skeleton in the closet, it’s all out in the open for all to see.  And I have no answer for it.  It’s always been here, since I’ve been here.  And it definitely has gotten A LOT worse within the past 10 years.  And it’s not just one issue, it’s the perfect storm of multiple issues coming together:  not enough affordable housing;  not enough livable wages; mental instability; drug addiction; nomad living lifestyle - yes that’s a thing.  I don’t think California is doing nothing.  There’s just too many people.  And you can’t just throw them in jail or put them onto a bus to make someone else’s problem - like other regional areas have done, there has to be some compassion and humanity.  But these encampments are not humane.  They are breeding grounds for disease and despair.  What does that say about you as you walk on by?  Trying to ignore the garbage and filth these people are living amongst.  But I have no answer.  I don’t even know where to begin to help these people.  So for the time being, I’m going to continue to stick my head in the sand and hope that California will rise to the challenge and find some solution, sooner rather than later. 

The Embarcadero curves around and leads you to the touristy part of the city...Fisherman’s Wharf.  I personally hate this part of town.  It’s just too much:  too many people; too many lame chain restaurants;  too many cheesy chotchkie stores.  My parents on the other hand love it.  When they come to town all they want to do is come to Pier 39 and Alcatraz.  My dad would live on Alcatraz if he could.  One of these days I just may lock him in one of the cells.  Today though, things were different.  I loved seeing that Alcatraz tours are once again up & running.  AND not a lot of people yet...wink wink wink...for those of you who've tried to go but weren’t able to get a reservation.  It was early, so the area was just coming alive. The street vendors setting up their wares or street performers getting into character. Then there’s the abundance of colors of all the flashy stores and restaurants.  The sounds of the sea lions barking at the tourists watching them.  The marina with the famous “Rocket Boat!”  I was digging it.  Fisherman’s Wharf also has some great views of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge.  It wasn’t so horrible.  Bob showed me Scoma’s restaurant, a tiny seafood restaurant that’s been here for years and is supposed to be pretty darn good.  There’s even a chapel for the local fishermen.  Then of course there’s Musee Mecanique.  A museum of antique slot machines, animations, coin operated pianos and the like.  It’s pretty cool and I believe most of the games are still functioning, so you can play.  Unfortunately it is also closed because of the pandemic.  You can donate to help keep it open though.  Just go to https://museemecanique.com.  

Then we hit Aquatic Park. An interesting cove at the West end of Fisherman’s Wharf.  This is where crazy people swim in the freezing waters of the bay, most without wet suits.  On this cold, windy morning we found a group of children being taught how to acclimate their bodies to the water so they can grow up to be crazy people.  Horrible way to spend a Saturday if you ask me!  

We continued to go around Aquatic Park and up and around to Fort Mason. There’s a great trail that we’ve never taken that gives you an even better view of the GG bridge and Fort Mason below.  And once you get on the other side, you’re in local land of OZ!  Where the curtain is pulled back and the locals are enjoying the real SF.  Now for those tourists who spend their whole time at Fisherman’s Wharf and The Embarcadero, more power to you.  Just don’t say you’ve been to San Francisco.  Because you haven’t.  Once you get over the hump, one of my favorite scenes of SF...the buildings.  Squat, square homes of multiple pastel colors rolling like waves along the hills of San Francisco.  In other areas of the city, the hills are rolling with colorful victorians.  The colors are what I love best about San Francisco.  

It was here that I realized I was hiking with Cher.  We had to make yet another stop so Bob could make a wardrobe change.  It’s also kind of a production with him narrating what he’s doing.  I got to hear all about the ins and outs of why he rolls his flannel rather than fold.  Why he’ll wait to take off the thermal leggings.   Where to put his first UO sticker. Yada, Yada, Yada.  Good thing he’s pretty cute.  As he was changing, we noticed a statue of an older man in a suit but no plaque telling visitors who he is.  I thought he looked like Rodney Dangerfield.  But why would anyone put up a statue of Rodney Dangerfield in SF?  That would be the ultimate “no respect” though, a statue but no plaque.  Ends up it’s a guy named Phil Burton.  He was a US Congressman from California who is responsible for 87,000 acres of the SF Bay Area being designated as a National Park. I was basically ending my hike in a National Park thanks to this man.  He deserves a plaque god damnit!

So once you pass Fort Mason, you are now in the Marina district.  It’s where Cal Berkeley students go after they graduate. They mutate here on the hollowed grounds of Crissy Field.  Like yuppy gremlins. Working out or drinking Philz Coffee.  The homes along Crissy Field are gorgeous. Huge picture windows with a front row seat to the Golden Gate Bridge.  Each one is architecturally different and once again, the colors!  Beautiful. The only downside was the wind.  It was pretty darn windy along this stretch.  But Bob had his windbreaker and I had my knit cap.  I can endure the wind if I have my ears covered. 

It’s a long stretch from Crissy Field to the Presidio.  The old barracks of the Presidio on one side and the entrance of the Bay on the other.  The GG Bridge is the main attraction here.  It’s majestic. Great time to get over there.  Parking was plenty and not a bad way to have a picnic. There’s a climbing gym, a trampoline park and under the bridge is Fort Point.  I have been here before, took my parents.  I was able to slyly divert their attention from the bells and whistles of Fisherman’s Wharf with the chance to view history!  They are suckers for historical buildings.  And Fort Point is a National Historical Site.  It was built during the Civil War in 1861.  It’s been awhile so I don’t remember too many of the details, but definitely worth a visit.  

Now we began our assent to the Jewel of this hike...The Golden Gate Bridge.  It’s a National Icon and San Francisco’s mascot.  As you climb the hill and get closer to the bridge there are a bunch of tunnels and “hide outs” along the way.  Remnants of the military presence that once dominated San Francisco.  But the absolutely coolest thing about this hike was I had NO IDEA you can actually walk underneath the bridge itself...like right below the huge steel red frame!!  It’s literally a wind tunnel, so hold onto your hat!  But super duper cool!!  If you have any engineers or construction people in your circle, this would be a great spot to bring them.  

As you continue around the bend, you come to Baker’s Beach.  Not sure if it’s still a nude beach, but it used to be.  The unfortunate thing about nude beaches is the people who SHOULDN’T be nude are the first ones to get into their birthday suit. But that’s my problem, not theirs!  Some nice trails along this stretch, but nothing too exciting to report.

We soon came upon the neighborhood Sea Cliff.  Now this is where the really rich people live.  Like Robin Williams had a home here;  Nancy Pelosi I think lives here.  Mansions with a view of the Pacific.  Bob & I had to walk through right?  I am happy to report the other half live very well.  I stopped to smell the roses (literally) but I noticed that all the gardens actually smelled horrible.  The fertilizer was strong here.  Bob & I laughed that that was how they kept the riff-raff away, by surrounding their homes with a shit moat.  Worked for us!  We high tailed it out of there.  

Now we came to our last stretch...Land’s End.  A labyrinth of trails along the coastal edge.  We needed to stop for another wardrobe change.  This time his leggings were going back on.  Which meant he needed to get down to his underwear.  Let’s just say a whole group of people got a little more than they were expecting that day!

Finally we made it to Sutro Baths and the Cliff House!  Fantastic!  Unfortunately the Cliff House closed due to the pandemic and is not reopening.  I cannot imagine this space will be closed for long.  Fingers crossed.  We decided to head down to Ocean Beach and end our hike by having lunch at the Park Chalet.  We were both famished and Bob was getting cranky.  Needed to feed him STAT.  I have more to report here but Bob might get mad at me, so if you see him again, just ask him about our new friend Franklin!  

BTW, Sunday I did my final 4-5 miles back at my MacArthur Trail.  I brought Stella this time and she loved it.  It was as fabulous as ever!

I’m still going to hike y’all and write about it.  So check in to see where I go next.  I enjoyed writing my thoughts and feelings down.  Even if nobody reads it, it’s my journal to this wonderful life I’ve been blessed with.  Why not tell the world!

Thank You to all who have donated to the Ride4Reason fundraiser and have endured reading these ramblings.  But, That’s All Folks!  (for now).  xoxox

[somedayonbroadway]

*spits out coffee* first of all, wow the avengers thing and the car chase thing were a m a z i n g, second, i’m intrigued by tony stark jack and spider-man race uwu

Thank you so much! I am really excited about this one! I hope you all like it!

TW Suicidal thoughts, violence, murder, child abuse, and much angst!

Read more below!

OKAY SO

In this AU, Tyler James Higgins, or Race, as he’s more affectionately known by some of his social workers, is Spiderman. When he was born, his parents gave him up for adoption. He grew up in the system, running away from several homes, eventually being taken in by a Mr. Kloppman when he was about thirteen. Kloppman introduces Race to pop culture, old movies and shows that Race loves so much. Kloppman takes a liking to him and tells Race he is going to adopt him. A couple weeks before the paperwork can be finalized, Kloppman is shot and killed in a home invasion. Race is in the house when it happens. He gets locked in a closet by the man who saved his life, only to break out and hold his foster father in his arms as he dies.

Race is placed in another home. A home with a man named Wiesel. Obadiah Wiesel.

Suffice to say that Race spends as little time in the house as he can when he’s fourteen. Weasel was never kind to him. Not from day one when he didn’t so much as give Race dinner.

There are two other boys who live there. Oscar and Morris. Brothers who take what they can get and tear down whoever gets in their way. Race included. They are both older than him and bigger than him.

Race sleeps in the streets sometimes. He often finds odd ways to roam around the city with his only friend, Albert DaSilva who he meets at school the first day he goes after moving in with Weasel.

One night he’s out alone. And he’s just done. Weasel had done it all again. He’d made Race feel inferior, like he was nothing.

Like Kloppman’s death was his fault.

The kid has nothing but a can of spray paint on him as he’s walking through alleys towards the Brooklyn Bridge.

The boy is smart. Very smart. Kloppman had called him a genius when he’d been alive. Race loves science, math and history. He loves to learn new things and he has an unhealthy obsession with science fiction and anything related to it.

He loves the superheroes he grew up hearing stories about. Especially the famous Iron Man. A hero that surfaced when Race was only twelve. Jack Kelly. A prodigy, genius, billionaire kid who was named Iron Man when he was only twenty two.

On this particular night, Race is just walking, intending on spraying some kind of note on the side of a building. A note of what, he isn’t sure. Maybe someone will find it someday. Someone will care.

He goes stops at an alleyway. It looks like it’s near a lab of some kind. And he freezes. He has nothing to say.

Maybe it’ll be better if he just disappears. He goes to walk away, never to be heard from again when he feels a pinch on his back.

He reaches back to figure out what it was, coming back with a spider crawling on his finger. He gasps and throws it to the ground, stepping on it and killing it immediately.

But he feels a little different.

He thinks maybe the spider is poisonous. Then, as he continues walking, he finds he’s not dying. His senses are heightened, his reflexes are ridiculously fast and he sticks to surfaces without trying to.

He initially tries to figure out what happened to him but then comes to embrace it, thinking about helping people like Mr. Kloppman who didn’t deserve what happened to him.

The man who killed Kloppman was never caught. Race wants to make it ultimate goal to kill the man, at first. But as he embraces his new self, he tries to change his mind, determined to help people rather than focus his energy on hurting the bad guys.

Anyways, he makes his own suit, his own web shooters.

Oscar and Morris know something’s up. Race always manages to get out of beatings, to get food, to not drop things like he used to all the time. But they can never prove anything.

CIVIL WAR

One day, when Race has to actually go home after school, per Weasel’s orders, he finds a really fancy looking car outside the apartment building. He never expected to find the one and only Jack Kelly sitting on Weasel’s couch with a cup of crappy coffee in his hands that he was absolutely not enjoying. Weasel was trying to be friendly to him, making small talk and even trying to discreetly clean up around the filthy apartment.

Race freezes. He has no idea what to do. But Jack’s fake smile turns into a grin when he sees the kid there. And Race almost runs away before Weasel asks him very pointedly why Race didn’t tell him he applied to be an intern at Kelly Industries. And Race doesn’t have an answer. So, Jack asks if he can talk to Race in private. Race takes Jack back into one of the only two bedrooms in the apartment. Oscar and Morris pretend to be friendly to Race on their way out.

Jack can see him flinching the whole time.

Race tries to explain to Jack that there must be some kind of mistake, but Jack brings his arm up. He’s wearing a piece of his suit. He shows Race a video. A video Race is in.

Spiderman.

Jack asks him if it’s him. Race tries to deny it. He says no. Spiderman has to be at least twenty five. Jack says he’s probably right and then reaches up towards the vent in the ceiling, pulling it down and revealing Race’s homemade suit that Race immediately grabs and tries to hide.

Jack laughs and asks him again. And Race says yes. He sees Race’s small collection of computers and asks where he got them. Race admits he and his best friend found them in the garbage and were fixing them up. Jack approves. He asks who else knows that he’s the Spiderman and Race says no one. Jack asks him if he has a passport and Race gets a little nervous.

He insists that he can’t just leave. He has school and tests and--

Jack stops him right there.

“Ya got a foster dad who puts on a show for rich visitors, two foster brothers who don’t give a damn whether ya come or go, teachers who don’t notice the bruises or the way you’re practically begging for a real meal everyday when you go to school. But now? Now ya got a gift. Ya got a big brain in that head a’ yours n’ ya got an opportunity ta help out someone who happens ta have a lot of money n’ a lot of computers to play with.”

Race can’t argue with that. And Jack takes Race to Berlin.

Jack takes a liking to Race. The kid is nervous around him. Jack gets him on a private jet and Race is almost terrified to move around him, however with his right hand man, Specs, Race seems to be completely comfortable. He’s still an energetic kid, which Jack learns he hides from Weasel because if he talks too much, Weasel hits him. But with Jack and Specs, Race opens up quick.

In Berlin, Race learns he is needed to help Jack talk some sense into Captain America, a man Jack calls “Davey.” Jack makes Race a new suit. Race almost cries when he sees it. He doesn’t get many gifts.

Jack walks him through what will happen, tells him to keep his distance and lay low.

Race goes into battle against Davey. He steals the famous shield and Davey goes easy on him, his intentions good. He stops Race as gently as he could, for a kid with super strength.

Jack sees Race continuing to put up a fight, eventually being thrown far and getting the wind knocked out of him. The only way he can stop Race from getting back up to fight is by threatening to tell Weasel who he was.

He apologizes for it so much later. Race won’t admit it. He won’t admit that he’s Weasel’s favorite punching bag.

After this whole ordeal, Jack takes Race back to Harlem, where he lives with Weasel. He offers to let Race stay in his guest house. But Race turns him down, telling Jack that he’s still available whenever Jack needs him.

HOMECOMING

Only a couple weeks later, Race is back into his rhythm, going to school and then being the friendly neighborhood spiderman afterwards. He loves helping people with any problem they might have. He eventually accidentally outs himself to Albert who does become his “guy in the chair.”

Race constantly calls up Specs, wanting to work with Jack again only for Specs to constantly ghost him. One day, Race stops a bank robbery where he discovers that these criminals have very powerful, very alien looking weapons and he barely makes it out.

Jack calls him, telling him not to engage again.

Race can’t listen. He’s getting bullied at school by his foster brothers, he avoids going home because Weasel has been getting more and more irritable lately. He doesn’t know what else to do with himself.

He follows these guys again, getting fought by a man with a winged suit. He almost drowns. Jack saves him. Well, Jack’s suit. Jack scolds Race from the other side of the world while also trying his best to convey his worry for the kid.

Race still doesn’t stop. He doesn’t know how.

Eventually, Race tracks down a weapons sale that happens to be happening on a boat. Long story short, the boat is eventually cut in half by one of the dangerous weapons. Jack, who had called Race before and heard him in trouble, showed up to help. He saves the ship and Race and takes Race back to his tower and Race accuses Jack of not caring because if he actually cared, he’d be there instead of sending a machine in his place.

That’s when Jack steps out of his suit.

He tells Race he needs the suit back and Race breaks. He begs Jack not to take it away from him, claiming that he’s nothing without the suit.

Jack says if he’s nothing without the suit, then he shouldn’t have it.

Jack buys Race some ridiculous clothes to wear and tries to take Race to Albert’s house. But Race doesn’t want to have to talk to Albert, so Jack takes him to Weasel’s.

Jack knows Weasel is going to hit him. And he very discreetly threatens him.

Weasel doesn’t hit Race that night. But that doesn’t make anyone feel better.

Race eventually figures out that the dealer of all these weapons is actually Weasel himself and ends up facing Weasel in his old, homemade suit.

Weasel nearly kills him.

Albert does what he can to help Race and ends up calling Specs who hangs up on him.

Race gets himself out of it all and gets Weasel arrested.

Jack tries to make him an avenger, but Race declines, telling him that he’s still just a kid and he’s still learning how to do all of this. And then he tells Jack that’s he’s being placed in another boy's home in Queens.

Jack intercepts this.

He and Katherine (his girlfriend) takes Race in.

Months go by. Race and Jack are as close as ever, even if Jack isn’t truly raising Race, his hired nanny is. Miss Medda. She is the one really taking care of him while Jack does his Iron Man thing.

(Someone breaks into Jack’s tower at some point and tries to take Race hostage. Someone remind me to write this)

Anyways,

Infinity War happens.

INFINITY WAR

Race is on a bus, on a field trip when it happens. He sees aliens attacking and he sneaks away to help Jack, meeting a Spot Conlon and a Myron along the way.

Jack tells him to go back, to get away when things get out of hand.

Race gets beamed up to the spaceship, Jack saves him when he starts to lose oxygen and gives him a new suit he’d been working on for him. He tells Race to go home to Katherine and Medda.

Race finds a way back on that ship.

Jack is angry when he finds out that Race did the exact opposite of what he was told. Race jokingly blames him. Jack argues with him, but eventually lets him help.

Jack and Race save Myron and Myron gets angry at them, telling them that if they’re going to take their fight straight to the bad guy, then he needs them to know that he would let both of them die to save the time stone that he had.

This upsets Jack. Race is just a kid.

But he makes Race an avenger.

The ship they’re on crashes. Race, who loves old movies, is quoting and making references to movies the whole time just before they are attacked by the guardians of the galaxy. Race is held at gunpoint by the leader of them, a man named Kenny. Jack flips and threatens to shoot one of the other men they were attacked by, only to find out they’re all on the same side.

This mini team forms a plan to defeat Snyder (yes, it’s still Snyder) and Jack reluctantly lets Race help, telling him to keep his distance. Snyder gets a hold on Race at some point, choking him, almost killing him.

They almost stopped him. Kenny messes it up. Snyder killed his own daughter. The love of Kenny’s life.

Eventually, by threatening Jack’s life, Snyder gets Myron to give up the time stone.

Snyder snaps his fingers, destroying half of the universe. A random half of the universe.

Jack watches almost everyone around him turn to dust. He looks around for Race only to feel the kid crash into him, shaking and hardly breathing.

And his heart drops.

Race begins to cry. He’d say he didn’t wanna go. That he didn’t feel good and he didn’t want to go. Jack would grip onto him, just as Race is clinging to him, promising that everything would be alright, that he was going to be just fine.

Race calls Jack “Dad” as he fades to dust.

Jack screams.

ENDGAME

Jack is lost in space for some time with only Graves there with him, a created daughter of Snyder. Eventually they are rescued and brought home.

Jack expresses how he wishes he’d just died up there with him and Davey calls it survivor's guilt.

Jack doesn’t want to hear it.

Jack tries to move on. He really does. He and Katherine have a kid. A little girl.

But that doesn’t make anything else go away. It doesn’t make the pain go away.

The team reaches out to him when they find a possible solution.

It’s been five years. And Jack still thinks about Race everyday. He has nightmares every night for a year, reliving Race disappearing in his arms.

When they reach out to him, Jack is reluctant. But he agrees.

He agrees because of Racer.

Spoiler alert, Race comes back, along with the other half of the universe. All in the middle of an epic battle. And the second Jack sees him, beat up and all, he runs to him. There’s chaos around them. But Jack just hugs him. And he holds him for a long time.

Until they have to fight again.

The battle is long and Jack makes it his mission to protect Race the whole time.

Up till the very end, when Jack has to snap his fingers.

Race is watching it all happen. And he screams when Jack falls to the ground. He runs to him and falls to his knees in front of him and cries, begging him to stay with him. He lets Jack cradle his face and run a hand through his hair and kiss his head while he sits there dying. And Katherine comes over to tell Jack that they’re gonna be okay. That he can rest.

Jack dies that day, knowing he saved Race and protected his family. And he’s okay with that.

Race however is completely heartbroken.

He wants to build a time machine.

But that’s a story for another time.

Anyways, I love this RP so much. Let me know if there’s any scenes you guys wanna see or any questions you guys have! Thank you so much!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralistic: 20 Mar 2020 (Who Has Your Face?, Monkey law firm vs covid, Blurred Lines sharpened, Consumer Reports on covid, Right to Repair during pandemics, secret GOP senate panic trading, Trump is outbidding state agencies for medical supplies, Coronavirus Sean of the Dead, Ifixit medical device guides, crowdsourced open source ventilator, Dafoe's plague diary)

Today's links

Patent trolls spin their shakedown of covide testing tech: Monkey law firm hired by Softbank patent-trolls to use Theranos patents to attack covid testing engages in spin.

Who Has Your Face? A short and sobering quiz from EFF.

Judge overturns terrible copyright decision against Katy Perry: Sharpening up the "Blurred Lines" principle.

Consumer Reports' covid-19 guide: Consistently the most reliable source of unbiased product info.

Right to Repair during pandemics: Hospitals are the new farms: isolated, with systems that need to be fixed NOW.

Republican senators told us everything was fine as they secretly panic-sold their stocks: But they made sure to clue in the donor class.

Trump is outbidding state agencies for medical supplies: He says federal coordination would turn him into "a shipping clerk."

Simon Pegg's coronavirus Sean of the Dead remake: "What's the plan?"

Ifixit's new database of med-tech repair guides: They need your help.

Open source hardware ventilator enters testing: From zero to prototype in 7 days.

Dafoe's plague diaries: Party like it's 1665.

This day in history: 2005, 2010, 2015, 2019

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

Patent trolls spin their shakedown of covide testing tech (permalink)

Remember the garbage-matrioshke of a story in which a Softbank-funded patent troll was using bogus patents bought from the wreckage of Theranos to shut down covid testing, through a firm that once claimed to represent a monkey for copyright purposes?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/17/pluralistic-17-mar-2020/#fortress-investment-group

It gets worse!

Irell and Manella, the monkey lawfirm, has been claiming it's all a nonstory because their Softbank-backed patent-troll client offered a "royalty free license" to their garbage Theranos patent.

But this is worthless. Labrador (patent troll who make nothing but lawsuits) has offered a royalty-free license to only some of things that Biofire (biotech company that makes covid tests) needs, while banning the rest.

https://www.patentprogress.org/2020/03/18/patents-in-the-time-of-coronavirus/

They're "offering to allow a royalty-free license for the COVID-19 test… [but] they're still trying to block the technology that's needed to run the COVID-19 test."

What's more, that license doesn't extend to other companies working on covid tests.

Even by the low standards of deceptive spin from predatory lawfirms, this is garbage behavior. Not as bad as hastening the extinction of the human race by blocking covid testing, but worse than anything you or I are likely to do in our lifetimes.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20200318/16113044127/why-softbank-patent-trolls-promise-royalty-free-license-theranos-patents-covid-19-is-bullshit.shtml

Who Has Your Face? (permalink)

Who Has Your Face? is a new interactive from EFF that tells you where the biometrics you had to give up – for a driver's license, say – have proliferated. We are in "perpetual lineups," our faces being continuously assessed by algorithmic guilt systems.

https://whohasyourface.eff.org/

The project announcement delves into this in depth:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/announcing-who-has-your-face

There is a stunning lack of transparency on biometric sharing. And the pandemic is making it worse – even as grifty beltway bandits are promising to use mass surveillance to prevent the spread of the disease…for a price.

It's time for a national ban of government use of facial recognition tech!

https://www.eff.org/aboutface

Judge overturns terrible copyright decision against Katy Perry (permalink)

Here's some rare good copyright news! A judge has overturned a copyright claim against Katy Perry that would have had her paying $2.3m because she recorded a song in which eight notes were similar to many other songs, including an obscure piece of Christian hiphop.

The ruling does not overturn the jury's finding of fact – that Perry's song had similarities to this other, obscure song – but rather, it overturns the legal principle that this similarity constitutes a copyright infringement.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20200319/00094444129/surprise-judge-throws-out-jurys-awful-copyright-infringement-decision-over-katy-perry-song.shtml

And although the copyright trolls who came after Perry might appeal, this decision chips away at an even worse copyright precedent, the "Blurred Lines" argument that a pop song is illegal if it reminds the listener of Martin Gaye, even if it was not copied from a Gaye song.

One of the best things about this decision is that it cites the plaintiffs' expert witness's own testimony – the musicologist the copyright trolls hired basically admitted that this was not a copyright infringement.

This case is a victory for fairness and Fair Use, though Warner Chappell, Perry's publisher, has not covered itself in glory during this affair. Most notably, they attacked a prominent supporter of their cause with a fraudulent copyright claim.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud/#warnerchappell

(Image: slgckgc, CC BY)

Consumer Reports' covid-19 guide (permalink)

The most consistently reliable US source of unbiased product reviews and information is Consumer Reports, and now they've published a covid-19 guide.

https://www.consumerreports.org/issue/coronavirus-covid-19

Included: products believed to be effective at destroying the virus on skin and surfaces, guides to sanitizing your devices, how to work from home, what kinds of novel scams have popped up, and what to do if you feel unwell.

Right to Repair during pandemics (permalink)

Farmers lead in Right to Repair is because when you're isolated and need to get the crops in, you can't wait for a distant part or service tech to come to your site – that's why farms have workshops (even forges!).

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/right-repair-times-pandemic

Pandemic puts us all in situations like those farmers, with important things to do that can't wait for the authorized tech or official parts.

But especially, it puts hospitals in this situation.

That's why Right to Repair is so urgent at this moment.

The right person to decide whether a field repair should be attempted, and whether the repair is solid enough to rely upon are medical professionals, not the shareholders of med-tech companies or the lawyers who write their terms of service and patent applications.

Republican senators told us everything was fine as they secretly panic-sold their stocks (permalink)

The Senate and Congress have incredibly lax insider trading rules. They let elected politicians use the private information they glean from closed-door hearings and legislative planning sessions to take market positions that enrich themselves when the rest of us are clued in. That's how GOP lawmakers cleaned up in 2017, buying up health insurance stocks before announcing the full-court press to kill Obamacare, which sent the insurers' stocks skyrocketing.

https://theintercept.com/2017/07/06/republican-lawmakers-buy-health-insurance-stocks-as-repeal-effort-moves-forward/

But it's not just Congress and the Senate! Lawmakers have a long tradition of laundering their insider information for politically connected types: rich donors, lobbyists, party bosses.

https://legaltimes.typepad.com/blt/2013/04/government-report-examines-political-intelligence-but-questions-remain.html

It's no surprise that Senate Intelligence Chair Richard Burr [R-NC] secretly sold off $1.7m of his stocks after being briefed on coronavirus, even as he was publicly reassuring people that Trump was right, it was no biggie, and everything would be fine.

https://www.propublica.org/article/senator-dumped-up-to-1-6-million-of-stock-after-reassuring-public-about-coronavirus-preparedness

Not just Burr, either. Even as he was publicly claiming that coronavirus would fizzle, he was briefing North Carolina's elite $10,000/person members that they, too, should be panic-selling before us plebs got wind of the real scale of the crisis. The secret recording of that meeting has Burr saying "There's one thing that I can tell you about this: It is much more aggressive in its transmission than anything that we have seen in recent history … It is probably more akin to the 1918 pandemic."

That's what he told plutes. Here's what he was saying for public consumption: "he United States today is better prepared than ever before to face emerging public health threats, like the coronavirus."

https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/coronavirus-prevention-steps-the-u-s-government-is-taking-to-protect-you-sen-alexander-and-sen-burr

It wasn't just Burr, either. Other GOP senators who panic-sold while telling us that Trump had it all under control and nothing bad would happen include Kelly Loeffler [R-GA], Ron Johnson [R-WI], and Jim Inhofe [R-OK].

<a href="https://www.reviewjournal.com/news/politics-and-government/4-senators-sold-stock-before-steep-market-losses-from-virus-1986546/">https://www.reviewjournal.com/news/politics-and-government/4-senators-sold-stock-before-steep-market-losses-from-virus-1986546/

This insider trading is so egregious that it might have actually breached the Senate" s="" farcically="" loose="" rules.="" aoc="" is="" calling="" for="" burr="" to="" resign.<="" p="">

https://twitter.com/aoc/status/1240759241847308293

Trump is outbidding state agencies for medical supplies (permalink)

Trump has refused to coordinate federal procurements of emergency supplies for states, saying the fed is not "a shipping clerk" for state governments.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-03-19/trump-told-governors-to-buy-own-virus-supplies-then-outbid-them

Now, state agencies are routinely getting outbid by FEMA when they try to buy things like masks.

Trump brought Mass Gov Charlie Baker onto a FEMA videoconference to boast about his performance, only to be told that Baker's officials had been outbid by FEMA. Three times.

Baker (to Trump: "I've got a feeling that if someone has the chance to sell to you and to sell to me, I am going to lose on every one of those."

Trump: "Prices are always a component of that also. And maybe that's why you lost to the feds, OK, that's probably why."

Simon Pegg's coronavirus Sean of the Dead remake (permalink)

Gorbless Simon Pegg and Nick Frost for this delightful coronavirus-themed reenactment of "the plan" call from Shaun of the Dead.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XO6FW1aJkTw

Ifixit's new database of med-tech repair guides (permalink)

The latest Ifixit project is a database of indepedent repair manuals for medical devices:

https://www.ifixit.com/Device/Medical_Device

They need your help to improve it. If you have photos, manuals, etc related to medical device repair, please submit them:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/36354/help-us-crowdsource-repair-information-for-hospital-equipment

They're carrying on the work of Frank's Hospital Workshop, an amazing, one-person site based in Tanzania:

http://www.frankshospitalworkshop.com/

Ifixit turns crowdsourced photos, tips and guides into easy-to-read, consistently formatted, tested manuals that are aimed at both laypeople and skilled technicians.

https://www.theverge.com/2020/3/20/21187981/ifixit-medical-device-repair-database-guides-ventilators-coronavirus-covid-19

As supply chains break and parts and technicians become scarce, hospitals need to carry on their long tradition of effecting field repairs on their own – but these repairs may need to be longer-lived and serve more urgent needs than ever before.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/right-repair-times-pandemic

Open source hardware ventilator enters testing (permalink)

7 days ago, a group of open source hardware enthusiasts put out an open call for help in designing OSHW ventilators. After contributions from 300+ engineers, med techs and researchers, they have a prototype ready for testing.

https://techcrunch.com/2020/03/19/open-source-project-spins-up-3d-printed-ventilator-validation-prototype-in-just-one-week/

Ireland's Health Services Executive, which regulates medical devices, is evaluating the prototype.

The group has since changed its name to "the Open Source COVID19 Medical Supplies community" and has broadened its focus to "masks, sanitizer and protective face guards."

Dafoe's plague diaries (permalink)

I spent 13 years in London, off Pitfield Street (named for the plague pits that still line it), near Bunhill Cemetary (a "hill of bones" made from the plague dead). Bunhill has some incredible inmates, including Thomas Bayes, but also Daniel "Robinson Crusoe" Dafoe.

Dafoe was five in 1665, when the bubonic plague came to London. It made an impression on him. 57 years later, he published "A Journal of the Plague Year," featuring his recollections of the time.

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/376/376-h/376-h.htm

This excerpt, dealing with the economic terrors of the city shutdown – and the ways these exacerbated the health crisis – bears reading now.

https://www.wired.com/beyond-the-beyond/2020/03/plague-economics-1660s/

The economy froze up: sailors couldn't sail, so shipwrights couldn't build, so tavern keepers couldn't pour, so brewers couldn't brew. Centuries later, it's pretty familiar stuff.

But this longer excerpt is even more fascinating and relevant. As the plague loomed, people hallucinated angels and devils, sought out prophecies, blamed it on foreigners, and sought out scapegoats.

https://www.wired.com/beyond-the-beyond/2020/03/fears-people-young/

They were terrified that they would die, that they would be cast out, that they would be denied care, that they would be left to die. They panicked, and it spread.

Also eerily familiar sounding.

Dafoe says out that the only reason London survived is that it had a crude safety net, which kept absolute chaos at bay.

People lost their jobs, or panicked thinking they would, and left the city, carrying plague through the land.

This day in history (permalink)

#15yrsago Yahoo! bought Flickr! https://blog.flickr.net/en/2005/03/20/yahoo-actually-does-acquire-flickr/

#10yrsago Peter Watts may serve two years for failing to promptly obey a customs officer https://www.rifters.com/crawl/?p=1186

#5yrsago Suspicious people, American Airlines edition https://secure.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/16690196059/

#1yrago Sponsor of the "Discouraging Frivolous Lawsuits Act" sues Twitter cow-account for $250 million https://lawandcrime.com/crazy/devin-nunes-sues-twitter-and-devin-nunes-mom-for-a-whopping-250-million/

#1yrago More Than 130 European Businesses Tell the European Parliament: Reject the #CopyrightDirective https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/03/more-130-european-businesses-tell-european-parliament-reject-copyrightdirective

#1yrago California's Right to Repair Bill, killed by Big Ag and Apple, has been reintroduced https://appleinsider.com/articles/19/03/18/california-reintroduces-right-to-repair-bill-after-previous-effort-failed

#1yrago Health industry lobbyists are posing as "ordinary citizens who don't want Medicare for All" https://splinternews.com/look-at-these-absolutely-ordinary-americans-who-hate-me-1833380461

#1yrago IBM supplied surveillance gear to Davao while Duterte was mayor and cheering on the city's police-linked death-squads https://theintercept.com/2019/03/20/rodrigo-duterte-ibm-surveillance/

Colophon (permalink)

Today's top sources: Naked Capitalism (nakedcapitalism.com/), Slashdot (https://slashdot.org), Geekologie (https://geekologie.com), Geoffrey MacDougall (https://twitter.com/taliesan).

Currently writing: I've just finished rewrites on a short story, "The Canadian Miracle," for MIT Tech Review. It's a story set in the world of my next novel, "The Lost Cause," a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I've also just completed "Baby Twitter," a piece of design fiction also set in The Lost Cause's prehistory, for a British think-tank. I'm getting geared up to start work on the novel next.

Currently reading: Just started Lauren Beukes's forthcoming Afterland: it's Y the Last Man plus plus, and two chapters in, it's amazeballs. Last month, I finished Andrea Bernstein's "American Oligarchs"; it's a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I'm getting really into Anna Weiner's memoir about tech, "Uncanny Valley." I just loaded Matt Stoller's "Goliath" onto my underwater MP3 player and I'm listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: The Masque of the Red Death and Punch Brothers Punch https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/03/16/the-masque-of-the-red-death-and-punch-brothers-punch/

Upcoming books: "Poesy the Monster Slayer" (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we're having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

"Attack Surface": The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020. https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531

"Little Brother/Homeland": A reissue omnibus edition with a new introduction by Edward Snowden: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250774583

[unikornu]

11, 18, 34, 37, 55, 77 for Lucy?

Thankz! I will include Harrison too in this one too from the other ask:

11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be?

I suck at history, like completely, i swear i was better at math, so i can’t think of any actual real events right now but thinking about pre-war life, becoming the woman judge in national court, revealing the truth about their actions and kicking all the corrupted folks out, like totally wiping the current system and ending the conflict between government police/law and the criminal underground, no longer trying to hunt ex-criminals just to push more money into their pockets. That would be like a small success in history of the town. Sounds like a happy ending if she wouldn’t choose the other path. 

18. What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages?

Aside from English, she picked up some Polish and Russian words because Rosey parent’s were initially immigrants from Central Europe, Poland, looking back then for better economic situation and living conditions. They still learned her some basics from both of these languages, before they died when she was a teenager. Right after that Harrison stumbled upon her and when offering her a job also kept providing her with language books as it was useful to be able to communicate with immigrants in club as well. Lucy heard her sneaking some of other words from these languages or sentences, mostly when swearing or complaining about clients but eventually got curious about it. Lucy will mostly just swear in some broken Polish/Russian words mixed with English. A street language mess.

34. How easily do they trust others with their secrets? With their lives?

Not at all. Unless she has like no choice or is already in the middle of more serious friendship or partnership. Most of her secrets are rather embarrassing to her, showing weakness or just totally crazy alien weird like with her boss. It also depends on the person she has that relationship with. If they are rather kind, calm and sensitive she might be easier to open up but she will need a slight pull by her braids to do so. With her life that might be a bigger no. She would rather not put her life anymore on any kind of line after finding her little raider paradise. 

 37. How easy is it for them to say “I love you”? Do they say it without meaning it?

Not easy at all, its like Porter Gage level unless she if freaking drunk and in a really good mood. Because of her pre-war relationship it became harder to her. She loved Ian, she was telling him that but hiding like a garbage bag of dirty secrets behind the back at all times so meaning of these words could be questionable and because she felt like shit about it after the bombs she prefers to bite her tongue before saying these words even if she means it. Unless someone says it first and she feels the same she will respond. And if Lucy says she loves someone she really freaking means it, she will no longer lie about it and looking how she isn’t the good angel of the wasteland you can be sure she will protect that person like a wicked high drugged killer beast. 

55. What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? How bad are their hangovers?

Fairly high due to Sapphire Club experience. You need to be able to stand on your legs and still communicate with others if you worked in a place like that. You ain’t a good agent to anyone if you stumble like a drunk whore in dem high heels. But at some point if she knows she can drink and no longer think about a job at Fizztop, knowing she can let herself go a little oh boy, you gonna get a mumbling gal, knocking glass from the bar top dancing like a typical drunk person with just a little more kick, many more kicks. She would try to jump on tall people to ride on their shoulders and pull smaller folks like her by their hands and spin them around. She isn’t that much more talkative after the booze but a bit too active with all that swinging and jumping around at some point. And she will just superglue herself to the chest of her partner. Poor Gage. Because she forgets to drink water in between or eat decently she will get a bad hangovers and with all that spinning oh man, its a miracle she doesn’t vomit. 

 77. What is their most prized possession?

Gage...lol joking. I can’t think of one item so i would say anything that is shiny and resembling a pre-war jewelry good enough, hair brushes, hair clips, etc. so everything that hangs and sits on her dressing table. Extra points would go to a golden hair clip, long and spiky with engraved ornaments and delicate small roses attached to it as it would be the one her mother used to wear every time her personality would be back to a loving and caring mother and she would always have her hair pulled up by this kind of clip. She would probably sharpen it and use as a surprise extra weapon tho. Yum, dem fancy girly gadgets.  

Now for Harrison:

25. What is their biggest flaw?

Being overly protective and thinking it will re-pay him for the past of sort. Lucy and Gage have been taking care of Nuka World for a long time and she was left alone after the bombs to herself so she no longer needs THAT much care as to accompany her even to the market trip. He knows its annoying but he just can’t help it. Also he has hard time to trust people even if Lucy trust them cus of above.

26. Are they aware of their flaws?

Yup. But he is stubborn as donkey.

27. What is their biggest strength?

Staying focused and calm no matter how messy and brutal the situation is, hell he might even still throw a piece of advice or even a joke while at it. From a car accident he ended up in a lab tube having his soul literally detached and contained and still aware and fully conscious so its hard to...surprise him, let’s say, man became literally immortal. And he is also aware of his powers so feels pretty powerful as a fighting unit of sort.

28. Are they aware of their strengths?     

Yes, he is. He knows what he is, what he can do and learns more and more day by day to bend the powers of his soul to his will, he can’t just command himself to use it to extremes as it would only respond when he gets really emotional or certain desire is strong inside him. Although he can easily lift small objects just like that and hit someone’s head with it. *tin can in Porter’s head*  He doesn’t pushes away what he became, he is the type of man who deals with the facts here and now and as to his personality, well...its a grumpy old man, ofc he is aware of everything about him, even if its annoying others. 

71. How are they with children? Do they have any? Do they want any?

He is so much better at it than Lucy. He was a father of a disabled boy before the war so has quite an experience. He didn’t give his best tho...looking that his son was taken by the car explosion due to his lack of care with repairs. And he was a bit let down that his wife didn’t deliver the fully healthy child, it challenged him mentally of sort. On a one side he couldn’t blame anyone for it, he just wished he could play with his son like any other father, doing sport and running around and so on. Instead he was busy riding with him to hospitals, pushing the small wheelchair and just tryin to communicate at the base level with him. Its a hard topic. Sometimes parents feel really taken down seeing their child might never be fully healthy or capable of living by themselves in future and they tend to lose it, get tired or even angry but in the end he still loved his son. As for current event Lucy is the closest “child” to him and turns his focus on that for now. He doesn’t pushes the idea of having a new relationship after the bombs but he is scared to start any due to what he is and is scared to fail at protecting these who he cares about again. So he will rather say no another round of family life, not wanting to drag anyone into his bullshit unless there would be a woman brave enough, not scared of him and fully aware, accepting him for who he is.

[sapphosclown]

Treat You Better - Tyrus AU

pt. III; It’s Nothing, I swear

Cyrus attends Buffy’s basketball game and is surprised at who else is there. Dylan finds out about Cyrus’s history project partner and it’s not pleased.

people are liking this!!! it makes me so happy thank you for your support <3 who knew Andi Mack would be the push i needed to start writing again lol

although i have to say this before i keep going:

i’m not trying to romanticize toxic relationships. i’ve never been in a toxic relationship and i’m just going off of what i’ve heard from people i know who have and also just like... common sense ig?? but if you are in a relationship that makes you feel unsafe or unhappy, GET OUT OF THERE!!! don’t let yourself get treated like garbage because you’re not. you deserve to feel secure and happy in a relationship and in yourself.

with that said, here’s part three. sorry it’s kind of long and probably messy, i wrote most of it half asleep lmao.

tw: toxic relationship

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Cyrus loves Buffy’s basketball games. He doesn’t know anything about the sport, other than you throw the ball and hope that it lands in the hoop. Sometimes he’ll try to keep track of the score but either zone out or get bored and end up just looking at the score board anyways. But none of that mattered. He loved making signs to support his best friend, he loved cheering her on with Andi. But most of all, he loved the games because Dylan wasn’t there. He didn’t care much for basketball, at least, girls basketball. He didn’t like Andi or Buffy all that much and would always come up with an excuse not to go to the games, but Cyrus knew that he just didn’t want to go. Some part of Cyrus subconsciously gets excited by the prospect of not having to see Dylan, but he quickly pushes that excitement to the back of his mind; he doesn't want to think about it.

Cyrus walked into the gym and he swore it got bigger every time he walked inside. There were people filling the bleachers on either side of the floor, one side cheering for Grant and the other side cheering for the away team. As he walked further inside, the squeaking of tennis shoes and the pounding of the ball hitting the ground grew louder. He spotted Buffy with her team doing warm ups and he couldn’t help but smile. She’d never admit it, but he knew she was nervous for this game. They’re playing against the Raptors and Cyrus didn’t know much but he knew they were good. But, he also knew that Buffy was better.

He looked away from the court and begun to scan the Grant crowd for Andi. He saw her sitting with Jonah a few rows away from him. They had quite a few open seats around them, which was confusing because the gym was relatively packed and they were only waiting for Cyrus so why’d they need that many seats?

Regardless, Cyrus made his way over to them and sat down next to Andi who greeted him excitedly. He smiled at her and quickly nodded at Jonah as well.

Cyrus and Jonah hadn’t hung out much since he and Dylan started dating. He had considered Jonah his best friend (after Andi and Buffy of course) for a while, but Dylan didn’t like that. He said that he should be Cyrus’s best friend and he didn’t want Cyrus to hangout with Jonah anymore. Cyrus convinced him that wasn’t totally realistic, because Andi and Buffy would still hangout with them both in groups, but he still didn’t like them talking. So, Cyrus tried to avoid contact with him as much as possible. It made him feel icky, but what else was he supposed to do?

“Why are there so many open seats over here?” Cyrus asked.

“Because we’re waiting for some people.” Andi responded quickly, looking around the room.

“People? What people? All our people are here?” Cyrus tried to piece together what was happening but then Andi and Jonah were waving dramatically to something across the gym. Cyrus turned to wear they were looking.

It was Marty. He and Buffy had become friends recently so it made sense that he’d be there. It was the next person he saw that drained the blood from his face. TJ. He and Buffy had also become friends recently, and he was friends with Jonah and Marty. Perfect.

While Cyrus was trying to get his brain to work again the two boys made their way over to them. He locked eyes with TJ who had the audacity to smirk at him. Honestly, who gave him the right to do that? He strolled up and sat down right next to Cyrus. There were like, 12 seats by Jonah he could’ve chosen but no, he chose the only empty seat by Cyrus. Of course he did.

Cyrus gawked at him.

“I hope you don’t mind.” TJ said slyly, still wearing that stupid grin.

Cyrus did mind. He very much minded the fact that TJ’s knee was forced to touch his because of the overcrowded seating. He minded way TJ’s hair was flopping ever so slightly because he was (probably) running out of hair gel. And most of all, he minded that despite the neon jerseys both teams wore, TJ’s eyes continued to be the most captivating thing in the room.

“Nope. Not at all.” Cyrus said dumbly. TJ gave him a large smile and then the whistle blew.

Right. The game. Buffy’s game. He’ll focus on that... Hopefully.

By the grace of God or whoever was clearly trying to ruin Cyrus’s life, he made it through the game and was able to maintain a decent idea of what was going on. Grant won, obviously. Buffy made the winning shot and the crowd errupted in cheers of joy. TJ instinctively threw his arm around Cyrus’s shoulders and gave him a side hug as he continued to celebrate. But Cyrus barely noticed it because he didn’t care about TJ. His heart was racing because Buffy had just won and he was excited. Yeah. Totally not because the minuscule physical contact with TJ was bringing him more joy than the past 6 months with Dylan had. Nope. Not that at all.

The crowds began to disperse and the players made their way to their families. Andi, Jonah and Marty had all gone down to congratulate Buffy. Cyrus went to join them when TJ grabbed his shoulder.

“What?” Cyrus huffed. “I want to go talk to Buffy.” It came out more aggressively than he intended but TJ must have picked up on his annoyance because he quickly removed his hand from Cyrus’s shoulder.

“Meet me outside afterwards?” He asked.

Cyrus’s face contorted. “Why?”

“Please?”

Cyrus looked at TJ and then quickly at Buffy. Maybe it was just the fact that Cyrus would really rather be on the court and congratulating his best friend, or maybe it was the genuine tone of TJ’s voice. Whatever it was, Cyrus found himself nodding at TJ’s request. The blonde broke out into a large smile.

“Cool.” He said, no, whispered to himself. Why did Cyrus find that so endearing?

“I’m going to talk to Buffy now.” Cyrus turned and started to walk of.

“Tell Buffy I said congrats!” TJ called after him. Cyrus looked back, gave a quick nod, and continued onto the court.

***

It was cool autumn evening as winter was soon approaching. It wasn’t cold enough to require a hat and gloves just yet, but not quite warm enough that a sweatshirt would cut it. That didn’t seem to stop TJ though.

“How are you not cold?” Cyrus asked as he walked up to the other boy, who was currently leaning against the brick exterior of the school and scrolling through his phone.

TJ looked up and his eyes sparkled when they met Cyrus’s. “I dunno. I guess I don’t get cold easily.” He shrugged casually. Cyrus couldn’t help but smile.

“Right. So why did you want me to meet you here?”

“So I could walk you home.” TJ responded with an innocent smile.

Cyrus blinked at him. “What?”

“I asked you to meet me out here so I could walk you home.” TJ repeated.

“Why?”

“I figure we could talk about our project on the way.”

“You want to walk me home... So that we can talk about our project? You know we have class time all week to do that?”

“It can’t hurt to get a head start.”

They stood there and started at each other for a moment. TJ looked exactly the same as Cyrus remembered. His green eyes still mezmorizing, his faint smile still earning Cyrus’s trust, the way he was so calmly leaned against the school. Cyrus eventually caved.

“Fine. But only to talk about the project.” He warned.

TJ smiled fully. “Lead the way Goodman.”

Cyrus didn’t live too far away from the school, in such a small town like Shadyside everything was within walking distance. TJ, much to Cyrus’s suprise, stayed on topic for the entirety of the walk. More than that, he actually came up with some pretty good ideas. They were walking down Cyrus’s street and he began to relax a bit. He made it home with no issues. But, because with Cyrus’s luck, his bliss didn’t last long.

“So, I noticed you haven’t broken up with your boyfriend.” TJ said suddenly.

Cyrus stopped in his tracks. “You said you’d only talk about the project!” He scolded.

“I said no such thing.” TJ smirked back. Cyrus rolled his eyes and started fast-walking towards his house.

“Cyrus,” TJ was following him now but he just kept walking, ignoring the continuous sound of his name being called.

“Cyrus!” TJ grabbed his wrist, causing him to spin around. They stood on the sidewalk, only a few houses until Cyrus’s.

“Can I ask one question?”

Cyrus glared at him.

“It’s about the project.” Cyrus relaxed ever so slightly, his eyes shifting down to where TJ was still holding onto his wrist. He pulled his arm away and looked back at TJ.

“When are you free to work on the project?” Cyrus furrowed his eyebrows. “I have work after school on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday mornings but I don’t think—”

“What do you mean, can’t we just work on it in class?” Cyrus cut him off, a vague sense of panic beginning to bubble in his stomach.

“Well, we only have the next couple of days to brainstorm but most of the work has to be done outside of school.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so what days work best for you?”

“I, I- um, I don’t know I’ll have to check my, my calendar.” Cyrus breathed as his brain had officially checked out.

“Ok, well, let me know.” TJ smiled kindly, which was actually very rude because the nicer TJ was to him the harder it was for Cyrus to dislike him. “Did you say your house was on this street?”

“Oh, yeah.” The question had snapped Cyrus out of whatever daze he had entered. “Yeah my house is right- there.” He gestured vaguely towards his driveway.

“Cool. Well, I should probably go. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Cyrus said, voice just barely audible. He turned and walked the rest of the way to his house. He got to the porch and just before he opened the door he looked back at TJ, who was walking in the opposite direction of him. He stared after him for a moment, not completely sure why. It wasn’t until TJ turned and looked at him as well that he quickly looked back to his door and went inside.

***

See, Cyrus knew the project would require a lot of outside of school time but he had been denying it. Because if he accepted it that meant he was actually partners with TJ, and they would actually have to spend a lot of time together, and he would actually have to tell Dylan. Cyrus really didn’t want to tell Dylan.

“How was the party?” Cyrus asked gently before sipping his milkshake.

“Fine.” Dylan replied shortly, not looking up from his phone.

“Did you have fun?” Cyrus tried again.

“Yep.”

Cyrus nodded meekly. “Buffy’s game went really well,” he said eventually. “She made the winning shot and—”

“Cool.” Dylan cut him off. Cyrus’s heart sunk and the smile he had been trying to keep on fell. It’s fine. He’s probably just doing something important Cyrus told himself. He sat up straight for a moment and peered over to see his boyfriends phone screen. He was on instagram. Right.

“Hey,” Cyrus grabbed Dylan’s hand, hoping to break him out of his social media trance. It worked but Cyrus almost wished it hadn’t. Dylan looked up at him looking incredibly annoyed. His face looked tired, almost sunken. He looked paler than usual, but the worst was his eyes. His icey blue irises pierced through Cyrus like a spear, his stare cold and lifeless. It was honestly kind of scary.

“What?” Dylan hissed.

“I just, I just want to talk to my boyfriend.” Cyrus attempted to hide the pain in his chest with a soft smile and gave Dylan’s hand a squeeze.

Dylan sighed and rolled his eyes not-so-subtly. He tore his hand away from Cyrus’s as he put his phone in his pocket.

“What’s up.” He sounded like he was trying, but it came out insincere. The bored look on his face made Cyrus hesitate.

“I was, um, I was just talking about, uh, Buffy’s game, last night...” At that moment Cyrus’s phone vibrated on the table. Cyrus peeked at it and grew confused when he saw a number he didn’t recognize. This had also caught the attention of Dylan who was now staring curiously at Cyrus’s phone.

“Who is that?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” Cyrus answered honestly. “Probably just a wrong number. As I was saying—”

It vibrated again.

Dylan raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll just put it away,” Cyrus grabbed his phone and as he moved to put it in his pocket he caught a glance at the text.

Hey Cyrus, it’s TJ

I realized we had no way to contact each other so I asked Buffy for your number, I hope that’s ok :)

“What? Who is it?” Dylan demanded. Before Cyrus could think of an answer, Dylan grabbed his phone out of his hands and looked at the messages. He scanned them for a minute and then looked back up at Cyrus.

“Who’s TJ?” He held Cyrus’s phone up accusingly.

It’s fine, remain calm. It’s nothing, make him believe it’s nothing. “Oh, just some kid I got partnered with in history. I was meaning to tell you but I completely forgot about it. You know me!” Cyrus joked awkwardly.

Dylan didn’t seem to believe him.

“Is this the guy you were talking to at school the other day?”

“Um,”

“I told you I don’t want you talking to him!”

“I- I really didn’t have any say in it we got partnered randomly!” Cyrus didn’t want to fight. Desperation filled his voice and he couldn’t do anything about it. “I promise it’s nothing I swear—”

“I want you to switch partners.” Dylan cut him off abruptly.

“I can’t, it’s already too far in the project” This wasn’t a total lie. Sure, if he really wanted to he could probably switch partners but everyone had already come up with ideas and it would just be too much of a hassle.

Dylan crossed his arms and scoffed.

“Dylan,” Cyrus reached across the table and carefully placed his hand on his boyfriends arm. “Trust me.”

Dylan’s face remained the same. “Fine.” He said bitterly. Cyrus smiled weakly despite every muscle in his body remaining tense. Dylan started at him, expression still hard.

“I have to go.” He said suddenly, yanking his arm out of Cyrus’s hand.

“Dylan,”

“It’s fine. I just have things to do today.”

And with that he left the Spoon. Cyrus watched him walk past the window. Some part of him thought maybe he’d look at him through the glass as he walked past, he didn’t. He walked all the way down the street and didn’t turn towards Cyrus once.

Once he was out of sight, Cyrus looked at the empty seat across from him. He let out a heavy sigh then payed for both of their food and went home.

So, did you get a chance to check your schedule?

...Typing...

yeah. i’m free.

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