#so most likely it's getting joe to go to taco night

[cementcornfield]

Off the field, man, [Joe]'s a cool guy, laidback, he don't really do much, you know, I be trying to get him out the house as much as I can, for real...

[merumis]

your son is watching tv upstairs. something bright and slow that he’s been into recently; you caught one episode a few days ago, watched as the alphabet painted its way across the screen in satisfying reds and blues. it reminds you a lot of the things you watched as a kid—soft music and sweet-voiced narrators.

the sound of a xylophone leaking from television speakers floats its way down your staircase, just loud enough that you can hear it.

you’re sitting at the kitchen counter—scrawling a grocery list underneath the one your husband has already started. fruit snacks, gallon bags, paper towels—not the trader joe’s ones. just above yours, two items of iwaizumi’s catch your eye: dark chocolate, silken tofu. he’s making mousse—the protein kind, obviously, but the one that melts on your tongue and then bites the back of it in that sweetly bitter sort of way.

there’s sets of drawn-on papers to your left. you’ve been waiting to put a couple on the fridge. your son is particularly proud of one, put it right on the top and smiled at you all wide while he did it. a woman in red crayon labeled mom, a man in blue labeled dad, and then a proud, smiling boy in orange between them, labeled me! in all big letters and exclamations.

you run a thumb over the top of it, feel the waxy residue collect on your skin, and then slide the corner of the paper between your fingers. you stand from the stool you were using and, with the drawing, make your way over to the fridge—pinning it with a red postcard magnet that iwaizumi’s mother got you from her most recent vacation.

there’s a jingle of keys at the front door. you turn at the sound, catching the soft swing of the door and the little routine iwaizumi’s made for himself at the end of the work day; key’s hung on their ring, wallet and work badge in the bowl by the door, shoes kicked off onto their shelf. his eyes catch yours and he smiles, softly—more like a greeting than anything else.

“didn’t know if you’d be home yet,” he says, and makes his way over to the kitchen. he slides into the stool you’d been using previously, stretching out his neck and back as he settles in. you lean back against the fridge.

“yeah,” you reply, “got out early, so i picked up the monster.” you gesture upstairs with a pointed finger. “figured he’d rather be at home than daycare.”

he nods, and then taps his fingers out against the counter. there’s this weird beat as he settles, the tap tap of his fingers filling out bits of silence. “either of you eaten yet?” he asks.

“no,” you say, “figured we’d wait for you.”

it’s then that your son comes tumbling downstairs playfully begging for dinner. he says something about hearing dad’s car, and then that he heard his keys, and he runs over and wraps himself around iwaizumi’s leg.

iwaizumi gets this big smile on his face—grabbing your son and pulling him up onto his lap. they exchange something that you don’t pay much attention to. you’re turned already, opening the fridge and scanning what’s in it.

“we could do tacos…” you start, “stir fry, vodka sauce-“

“why don’t we go out?” iwaizumi asks, and you can hear your son’s excitement at the idea, a little symphony—or cacophony, perhaps—of different restaurants he wants to go to filling the air of the kitchen.

“yeah,” you say, “that sounds good—let’s do that.”

iwaizumi lifts your son off his lap, telling him to go clean up himself and his room before you can leave, and he rushes up the staircase again, taking them two at a time.

the two of you have been doing this dance now for a while, you know. you’re pretty sure you both know. pieces of half-conversations spliced between interruptions and affection towards your son; quarter-baked commitments and yes’s that always sound more like maybe’s.

last night, he fell asleep first and you watched the rise and fall of his chest. you traced your fingertips along his shoulders and chest, wrinkling the cotton of his t-shirt between your skin and his.

you could’ve been twenty-one again—your bedroom soaked in the stench of rum and tequila and neither of you caring. him half-asleep, answering questions with closed eyes and mumbled sentences, his laughter warm as it brushed against your cheeks.

instead, you stilled your breath against him. you worried about waking him up, about what he would say if he knew you were up like this—if he would even say anything at all.

you still watch him now. a beat of anxiety hitting as you lean against the fridge. he’s playing with his hands, working his fingers against his palm up to his wrists.

“we need to-” you start, and you aren’t sure you can bring yourself to say the rest of it.

“talk,” iwaizumi says. he sighs. “i know.”

you walk over to the other end of the counter. when you rest your elbows on it, your knuckles brush up against his. you both inch towards each other until your fingers are flush against his.

“i love you.” you say, and you feel your throat start to tighten.

“i know,” iwaizumi replies. it’s quiet, not quite mumbled but just barely more than it.

“but i don’t think we-“ you begin, and you hang your head. you take your hands away from iwaizumi’s, propping yourself up on them, rubbing at your forehead, your temples, your eyes. “i don’t know.” you sigh. “i don’t know if we’re good for-" another breath, you catch iwaizumi's gaze for a second. for the first time in a while, you see the way he's aged in the past few years; sprinkled in grey hairs, the beginning of crow's feet. "i don't know."

you had an argument last week—as you do almost every Friday now, when you work from home and he makes his way back early. you couldn't name the topic of this fight, or really any of them, if you tried. you know you made a snarky comment, and he made one back, and that devolved into both of you yelling across the couch.

you got into an argument last night, too. prior to the late night gazing���because even with the fights, you always insisted on sleeping together. even now. but last night, you were arguing about work, his work and then yours, and maybe the groceries and where your son was going to school next year. you can't remember all the details—you don't particularly want to, either—and the day after it all becomes an abomination of anger anyway.

you're still looking at each other. you keep biting your lip between both sets of teeth, and you can see the way he's clenching his jaw.

"i know," he says for the third time tonight. he sounds so young when he says it, like you're in college and in love and you've just told him you're taking an internship across the country for the summer.

you hear your son upstairs, moving something around his room to clean up for dinner. he's not the best at keeping things clean, but when he does it, he's meticulous about it. you think he gets it from his father.

"i want it to be different," you say. "i don't want this." he shakes his head, gives you that tight-lipped smile.

"i know you don't," he replies, "i don't either, but-"

"but," you repeat.

your eyes flick to the stairs. you can still hear him cleaning up there, but you can't help but worry. when you settle your gaze on iwaizumi again, he's reaching a hand towards you. his fingers wrap around yours, his thumb pressing against the base of your knuckles.

"i won't grow to hate you," he says, "i won't do it. And if we stay married, i don't know how much longer that'll last."

you feel your face heat up, your throat tighten, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. you nod, silently, gripping his hand a little tighter.

"i know." you swallow something down, though you're not sure you could put a name to whatever it was. it feels like a jumble of everything inside of you. "me too."

you push yourself up and off the counter. neither of you say anything as you cross the threshold towards him. you wrap your arms around him, press your lips against his hairline. he raises an arm in front of you, reaching up to pull you closer by your shoulder.

"so this is it?" your voice is thick—hoarse—and still mumbled into his hair.

"yeah," your husband replies. you hear the crack in his voice. "yeah this is it."

your son yells from upstairs. he's ready to go, he says, and he's decided that you're going to his favorite mexican place. despite it all, you laugh into iwaizumi, and when your son comes tumbling down the stairs, you both compose yourselves.

you pull your son into you by the top of his head, ruffling his hair in the process. you can feel iwaizumi's arm around your waist—delicate and cautious and barely there in the first place.

and somewhere, in your chest or in your ribcage itself, you're not sure, you feel something that seems an awful lot like relief. even if it's small.

[badnewswhatsleft]

scanned the little patrick interview from kerrang winter 2023<3

transcript under cut:

Patrick Stump’s mum is a methodical accountant who likes to plan ahead and think things through. She would bestow this organisational wisdom upon her son when he was growing up. When his band Fall Out Boy got signed, however, thereby kick-starting one of the most exciting trajectories of the past 20 years, Mrs Stump quickly realised there were limits to what she could assist him with.

“She said to me, ‘I can’t help you anymore - you’re beyond my area of expertise,’” Patrick recalls with a laugh.

In the years since, there has been no end of through-the-looking-glass moments for Fall Out Boy, a litany of incredible achievements highlighted by the ever-growing shows the Chicago four-piece - completed by bassist Pete Wentz, guitarist Joe Trohman and drummer Andy Hurley - have played. It’s an upscaling Patrick admits he still can’t fully process.

“I’m probably never going to get used to it, and I think I’m at peace with that,” he admits, taking time out backstage at Hamburg’s Barclays Arena on the band’s epic So Much For (Tour) Dust jaunt, which recently visited the UK.

Thankfully, Fall Out Boy will be back on these shores next summer, having been announced as headliners for Download Festival 2024, alongside Queens Of The Stone Age and Avenged Sevenfold. The news has given Patrick cause to reflect upon the pivotal shows and tours that have made FOB the band they are today, with a self-deprecating appraisal of the good times and the bad, the tiny gigs and the Hella Mega ones.

“A lot of my life makes sense to me, where I understand the various points of what happened and why, but there are moments with the shows we’ve played that make no sense at all,” Patrick reflects. “You go to arenas and they have pictures in the hallway of all the big artists that have played there, then they’ll have pictures of us, which sticks out to me!”

THE BAND’S FIRST-EVER SHOW AT DEPAUL UNIVERSITY CAFETERIA, 2001 “We were playing with some pretty cool math-rock and emo bands. When we got out there, we were horrible - I mean really terrible - and there were about three or four people there. I can’t remember what our band name was at the time - it wasn’t Fall Out Boy, and we were tossing some names around. I remember suggesting one of the names we had in mind to the drummer in one of the other bands and him telling me it sucked. We had a guitar player who I’d only met the week before and I’ve never seen since. I hope he’s doing good things. I heard he became a bike messenger. I cannot imagine a humbler beginning for a first show!”

FALL OUT BOY’S FIRST GIG WITH ANDY HURLEY, 2003 “I think it was with Andy’s other band, The Kill Pill. Andy played in both bands that night. It was a bigger show for us, opening for [Florida melodic hardcore band] As Friends Rust, and we didn’t have a guitar player, so I was playing guitar. It was weird because we were playing some newer songs, which stood out, so it felt like we’d started to actualise the band. I’m a drummer originally, so I was picky about drummers. But when we played with Andy, it was the first time that it felt right. I remember saying to a friend of mine who was there at the time that we were still a bad band then, and she said, ‘You guys couldn’t see it, but even then, it felt like the beginning of something.’”

THE FIRST UK TOUR, 2004 “One thing I remember was going to a Mexican restaurant, ordering tacos, and being unable to describe the things that arrived at the table - and not in a good way. That first UK tour was with Mest, and it was surreal. I think that might have been the first time I’d ever left the States, so going to another country felt like a big deal. When I got there, I realised the UK is similar in a lot of ways - particularly thanks to our shared musical history. One difference was that the venues all felt so much more punk rock than those in the States, with an unhinged basement vibe, which surprised me but was also thrilling.”

HEADLINING DECAYDANCE FEST AT THE HAMMERSMITH APOLLO, 2007 “I look back on some moments and realise they were bigger than I noticed at the time. The other bands on that bill - Panic! At The Disco, Gym Class Heroes, The Academy Is…, Cobra Starship - were all bands we’d played with a lot before that and were friends with, so at the time I thought, ‘Every show we do is Decaydance Fest!�� Then that moment in time was gone and I soon realised that it was crazy that we were able to get all those people together to do that show. You don’t necessarily realise you’re part of a thing when you’re part of a thing, so when I think back now, I’m amazed.”

THE LAST GIG BEFORE GOING ON HIATUS AT MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, 2009 “It was such a strange show. I had checked out at the time, and was busy thinking about solo stuff, but really I just wanted to make lots of music. One of the things that was crippling was making a record and then going on the road for two years to promote the record. For me, making records is what’s important, so the grind of having to make them so slowly was killing me. I was therefore in a bad space with the band. I think we were out with +44, and I remember Mark [Hoppus] shaving Pete’s head onstage. Pete had the famous haircut and that was the end of it. It was kind of a joke to do that, but it ended up proving to be fairly symbolic, as it really was the end to that whole moment.”

FALL OUT BOY’S FIRST GIG BACK AT SUBTERRANEAN, CHICAGO, 2013 “The whole thing happened so fast and so suddenly! We had a meeting in New York. The four of us met at our manager’s apartment and we talked about maybe getting together and seeing what happened. It was tense, actually, as we hadn’t talked to each other in a long time and there were all these old grievances - but there was also this sense that we were older and wiser. We put together some songs, and one of them was My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up). On the morning of the show, we appeared on a radio show and the whole station felt excited about the song. It felt like the beginning of a rollercoaster. That night, when we played Light Em Up, a song people could only have heard hours ago, the room exploded!”

CO-HEADLINING THE MONUMENTOUR WITH PARAMORE, 2014 “That was one of my favourite tours! Andy and I would do a drum-off, so we got to play together, which was a full-circle thing for me, as I had never got to play drums in front of people with the band before then - so that was fun! I remember thinking on that tour that we were really getting somewhere as a band. Our first show, we were a pretty bad band. For a while in the early days, we wrote better than we played, and we thought better than we wrote. But as time passed things really came together. That tour was a point where we felt that we were really getting somewhere. Plus, the audiences were great on that tour - incredibly excited and giving.”

HEADLINING WRIGLEY FIELD BASEBALL STADIUM IN CHICAGO, 2018 “When I was a kid, the height of my ambition was to play the [1,100-capacity] Metro in Chicago. I never thought in a million years that we’d get to play Wrigley Field - I didn’t even know that bands played there. It’s not a venue, it’s where the Cubs play. I’m still in disbelief that we’ve now played it three times! That doesn’t make any sense to me. The first time we did it was terrifying, but also familiar. We used to have an apartment in Roscoe Village, which is walking distance from Wrigley Field. I remember Pete and I writing [2003 single] Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy together, then we went jogging around Wrigley, and a group of drunk Cubs fans shouted ‘Fucking losers!’ at us. Being inside that structure years later, singing that song, was therefore so surreal.”

HAVING A FREDDIE MERCURY EXPERIENCE HEADLINING READING & LEEDS FESTIVAL, 2018 “I think about that regularly. I’m not a natural performer. I used to act, so I could act as a character, but I couldn’t really be me and sing onstage - that never used to be comfortable for me. I have this very specific memory of This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race. There was this part where I sling my guitar to the stage and I’m just singing and having the crowd sing with me. The way they responded at that point made me suddenly think, ‘Oh, I can do this!’ I remember running towards the audience with the microphone and the life that came back at me just blew me away. When you have an audience like that, you’re Freddie fucking Mercury! I think about that on an almost daily basis when we’re on tour. That song has a whole different life now because of my experiences at Reading & Leeds.”

PLAYING THE HELLA MEGA TOUR WITH GREEN DAY AND WEEZER, 2022 “I couldn’t have been more obsessed with a band than I was with Weezer in 1998-’99, when I was in high school. Then, years later, they’re your buddies and you’re playing with them and they’re playing some of your favourite songs ever. That is so strange. One of my musical origin stories was in fifth grade, when this kid in the middle of class beckoned me over. We snuck under a table, and he puts headphones on me and he plays Dookie. I was like, ‘What is this?!’ On that tour, Billie Joe Armstrong said I was a really good singer. I’m still recovering from that.”

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

Daddy Matthew Gray Gubler.

Fluff 

after 9 months you and Matthew finely meet you’re little girl.

being pregnant was definitely a new experience, and Matthew went through all of the up's and down's right along with you, the late nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so uncomfortable, being hungry all the time, crying over everything, thinking that you looked bad and fat but to Matthew you were still the most beautiful women in the world, the late night pizza, tacos and ice cream, he bought and read all of the books on babies he was there for all of it.

making sure he was at all doctors appoints and when the time came for your little girl to be born, there he was riding in the back of the ambulance right by your side, and the delivery room was no different cheering you on, telling you how much he loves you, how strong you are, how proud he is of you moving your hair from your face, doing the breathing along with you, and the first time he saw your little girl he couldn't believe it, she was so tiny just 8lbs she cried till she saw her daddy looking down at her, he started crying looking at his little girl, she was perfect in every way, he counted her little toes and fingers.

"she has ten little toes and ten little fingers" he sobbed happy tears of course he carries the baby over to you and shows her to you.

"isn't she beautiful?" he asked.

"she looks like you, so yes she is beautiful" you pant still worn out, after all it's only been about 10 minutes since you gave birth.

"i can't believe we made this little person it's amazing isn't it?" he asks still crying.

"yes, it is" you tell him laying your head back.

"we are going to take you to a room now Mrs. Gubler" a nurse tells you.

"ok, thank you for delivering my baby safely" you said.

"you're welcome" the nurse tells you.

"you are so loved Madison, and so many people can't wait to meet you" he tells the little one before kissing her head gently.

the little girl coos.

"she is already a daddy's girl" you said whit a weak smile.

"do you think so?" he asked with a huge smile on his face.

"yes i do, i mean what newborn stops crying when her dad holds her? a daddy's girl"

"we need to clean her Mr. Gubler" a nurse tells him giggling.  

"ok, the nice lady is going to get you all cleaned up, and you are going to be even more beautiful" he tells the baby in baby talk.

little Madison starts crying as soon as her daddy lets her go.

 "see daddy's girl" you giggled.

"i am going to tell everyone she is born" he tells you before kissing your forehead.

you sigh happily but very tired.

Matthew almost runs to the waiting room and opens the door, the room is filled with friends and family, all looking at the door as it opens and there is Matthew still wearing his green scrubs.

"she is born!" he smiles.

"YAY!!!!" they yell, since they are the only ones in here it's ok, it must have been a slow day for babies being born.

Matthew's mom, brother, sister, your mom,  Shemar, Thomas, joe, Kirsten, Aj and pagent are all so happy for both of you.

"what's her name? can we see her? how is the baby? how is y/n?" Kirsten askes sounding a bit like Garcia.

"Madison Grace Gubler, yes you can she is getting cleaned off then you can see her, Madison is doing great, and y/n is tired, but she is doing well" Matthew answered.

"Well childbirth is hart believe me" Aj tell him.

"i know i read all the book on it so i could be there for her and help out anyway i could" he told her.

"well i am happy to welcome you to the parent club, so now it's Aj, Joe you and I" Thomas told him.

"it's a great club to be in" he panted still so happy to be a dad.

"well look at my pretty boy, ow a dad, how did this happen?" Shemar askes hugging him.

"well when i man and a women love each other they want to express that love" Matthew laughs.

"i know how it happened Matthew" he laughs.

"i still can't believe it really, i mean she is so small, i know i have the nephews and i have held them as newborns but it's just so much different when it's your own baby, she just looks and feels so fragile" he tears up thinking of his little girl.

"she will feel that way for a little bit then you will get used to her and be more comfortable with her" Aj tells him.

"Mr. Gubler, your wife is in Room 222 when you want to see her, and your baby is in there with her" a doctor tells him.

"thank you"

"i checked out little Madison and everything is good, you can take her home tomorrow"

"and y/n?"

"yes she can go home too" the doctor smiles.

"thank you, thank you so much for everything" Matthew says hugging the doctor.

"you're very welcome Mr. Gubler"

"can we see her now?" Kirsten askes.

"of course, let go see them" Matthew answers.

they all go to room 222 and there you are holding your little girl, she is a bit fussy but that stops as soon as Matthew talks.

"is that you making all that noise?" he asks in baby talk.

"yes it is" you tell him trying to sit up a bit.

"oh my gosh she is beautiful!" Kirsten says.

everyone takes a turn looking at her and saying how cute she is.

"was it as bad as you thought it was going to be?" Aj asks about the delivery.

"yes but it was worth it" you sigh.

after everyone looked at Madison held her and told you how happy they are for you everyone left, all but Matthew he stayed all night and when it was time for your new family to go home he was ready.

he put the little one in her seat, and mad sure she was safe.

when you got home Matthew took care of everything as you recovered.

meals, bathing the baby in the kitchen sink, feeding her, changing her, he did it all and loved every minute of it, being a dad was one of the best things in the world to him, that and being you husband.

he came in the room holding little Madison, or Maddie as she is now known as, Matthew doesn't like him name shorted, but he doesn't mind it with his little girl.

he lays down next to you, placing little Maddie on his bare chest, he loves being close to her.

"i am so happy y/n, i have it all now, a wife, a baby, a wonderful job, wonderful friends and co-workers."

"we do have it all don't we?" you ask cuddling to his side.

"yes we do and i couldn't be happier" he tells you before kissing the top of your head.

as all three of you lay there happy in your new little world.

[nancypullen]

I Lost My Mind

Sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth for a bit. I have been in a holiday frenzy. I mentioned that I'll be flying down to visit my mom in Florida for a few days. What I did not consider is that taking a chunk out of the middle of December would send me into hyper-holiday prep. I felt like I needed to have EVERYTHING done before departing on the 12th. Ev-er-y-thing. So I put my head down and trimmed the tree, decorated the house, shopped, wrapped, wrote and addressed cards, wrapped some more, baked and baked, and finally checked the last task (packing and mailing a box) off my list. When I return home on the 17th my biggest worry will be preparing for the Christmas meal. I'll have a handful of days to panic. We may have tacos for Christmas dinner if I drop the ball.

The mister had mentioned making the hour long drive up to Christiana Mall in Delaware earlier this week. I told him that if I could get everything done on my list, I could go on Thursday. I worked like a mad woman so I could go to that damn mall. I used to take malls for granted, then I moved to Dogpatch. So I met my self-imposed deadline (the last cookie was packaged at 7pm on Wednesday night) and went to bed with a heating pad and visions of shopping dancing in my head. I was not disappointed. It turned into the best day! The most wonderful part? It snowed on us! All the way to Newark we were treated to this:

I can't even tell you how happy it made me. After our snowy trip we walked into the mall and right into a giant Barnes and Noble. Man, have I missed browsing in a brick and mortar bookstore. I made a wish list a mile long. *sigh*

Mickey and I split up and I visited Lush and bought a couple of sparkly bath bombs for my favorite 5 year old, walked a couple of stores down and picked up a little something for my sister's upcoming birthday, browsed in Pottery Barn and Williams Sonoma (swoon!), and put some mileage on my shoes poking around in numerous other shops. It was such fun, I felt like an Amish girl on rumspringa. We met for a quick lunch and then headed off to the local Trader Joe's for a few things. We didn't have snow on the way home, but at least the car smelled good from that sack of bath bombs. Tomorrow I'm volunteering at the Friends of the Library booth at Winterfest. I think I'm running the Pin the Nose on the Snowman game. I doubt it will compete with all of the bouncy houses and big stuff, but hopefully some little bookworms will find us. After the festival I'll once again become a crazy lady, cleaning this house top to bottom and getting packed for the trip. I want to come home on the night of the 17th to a house that doesn't need a thing, because we'll be hurtling right into Christmas. Note to self: never again travel in December. I know I'll have a ball in Florida. I wanted to see my mom before I start the library job and lose the freedom to travel whenever I want (I've forgotten what it's like to ask for time off!). My sister is going to join us and we'll be able to celebrate her birthday on the 15th. It'll be good for all of us, some girl time. And that, my friends, explains my absence. I'm a one-woman holiday crew. The house is pretty, the tree is sparkling, gifts are purchased, wrapped, and tagged, cookies are baked, cards are mailed, and this elf is done. Well, I say one-woman, but I am never alone. Someone is always there, watching.

See her in there, just behind the white and gold bow? I can't keep her out of there. At least she doesn't climb it. I'll try to write a bit more tomorrow, I think I'll actually have a little time. I may tromp around in the woods and look for some greenery to cut. I want to make a festive swag to hang over those ugly blinds.

Hmmm. Maybe not. Looks a little too busy. Maybe some light garland. Whatever, it's not like we're on the Christmas home tour. Until tomorrow (I hope), I hope that you're enjoying every bright and shiny bit of this season. Turn on some holiday tunes and boogie your way through your chores. That's what keeps me going.

Stay safe, stay well, stay jolly! XOXO, Nancy

[unluckyhorseshoecrab]

okay so like in march you reblogged a post about HMLaG showing stuff about the band’s history in very pointed ways and i was wondering if you could elaborate on that? i’m fairly new lol. i take it the stealing painkillers thing is something pete has done lol

Ahaha this is a deep cut (March??? when was March??? Decades ago i'm pretty sure)-- I assume this was about the video bc of the stealing painkillers part, so here's a short list of Pointed FOB References in the HMLaG video (forgive me for not citing my sources here, it's a work night; if you want links lmk and i'll take some more time to dig some up):

the whole video kicks off at the end of the "this ain't a scene it's an arms race" video, which in turn was a sequel to the "Dance Dance" video

"When will fall out boy return to the stage?" article references the hiatus

pete being all over newspapers and articles was Very Much A Thing in the mid oughts

pete did live with his mom for a long time as an adult, mainly before FOB really took off

pete has been very open about his abuse of prescription medication but to my knowledge has never admitted to stealing any, though people in active addiction sometimes do steal drugs (feels weird and invasive to speculate further so i won't)

pete's whole arc of Being A Superhero and then retiring resonates with how he at a certain point decided to Be Less Famous than he had been (which was helped along by the waning of drama around him in the wake of the divorce et cetera)

pete also very vocally was posting about the hiatus being A Real Breakup and how FOB was Never Coming Back, which resonates with his arc in the video ("superhero vows to never run again" / "i haven't run that fast in years" and then he does it anyway)

patrick didn't wear a hat during his solo work but a) started wearing one originally because of pete (or so the legend goes), and started wearing one again when fob came back posthiatus

pete didn't not metaphorically 'break glass in case of emergency to get patrick back' during the hiatus, which ended up with the band getting back together

patrick took acting classes and has had multiple tv appearances, and complained that he kept getting typecast as like, nerds, and he wanted to play a villain, so he designed his wrestling character around that

patrick has likened being famous to having a wrestling character

patrick tried to karate kick pete in the parking lot of a taco cabana (not perhaps explicitly referenced in the video but a) this is a personal favorite piece of lore b) fighty patrick)

(extra fun fact: patrick did a whole voice for his wrestler character that got cut from the video but features heavily in the behind-the-scenes stuff they released on various platforms including youtube, which by now you very well may have seen already ahaha)

joe has worked in tv, including on the show mondo thrasho which you can watch in full on the fob youtube channel (though he hasn't specifically worked in motion capture to my knowledge)

andy has a reputation for being chill and unflappable and going with the flow (unless he's kicking someone's entire ass for You Hurt My Friend reasons) and is an anarchist and straightedge vegan, so all of that meshes together into the druid character

joe was initially the most resistant to rejoining fob posthiatus, but then patrick was on Exactly The Same Page about what needed to change in the band and led the conversation with that, and obviously he came back

patrick owned the 'i <3 bingo' hat for reportedly a week but it will live on in the fandom's collective heart forever

the stage/hall at the end is a reprise of the "this ain't a scene..." video set

pete's said that his conversation with his mom at the end is basically about how the band has fans who've had the attitude of "fob has been bad since--" since their first ever ep

[annieintheaair]

Nothing makes sense the more you think about it, and I know I wanna do something with my time, even if it's all for nothing.

I've been meaning to write for days and just haven't gotten around to it but sometimes, when I'm feeling all of the feelings, there's nothing else I can do but write.

I should be in bed but instead, I'm awake, it's 11pm, and I'm drinking wine on my couch. During a quick Facebook scroll, I saw on the JWU Alumni page that one of my favorite professors passed away on Friday. I froze when I saw it. It felt like the world stopped for a minute. Just recently, we had been messaging on LinkedIn. He has cheered me on since I graduated and always said he hoped that someday he'd be on one of my flights. I'm sad that it never happened and absolutely devastated that he died. I guess one of the hardest things about getting older is that more people you know die.

On the same day that my professor died, I paid off my student loans. I was already on track to have them paid off by June but we finally got our profit sharing and while I'm putting aside most of that right now, I decided to close out my college chapter officially and pay the last $1200 that was owed. It feels so good to be done with that huge burden but it's also ironic that it happened on the same day that my professor died.

The last two weeks since I wrote have felt like such a blur. I worked some, and last weekend spent Saturday at a brewery with Matt where they had a margarita festival. Sunday, I finally got around to putting together some shelves in my garage to get organized, and then, since Todd's birthday was on Saturday, I surprised him by taking him to a roller skating rink. He told me so many times how much he loved roller skating and we never went the whole time we dated. After roller skating, we checked out a distillery and then saw the movie Here with Tom Hanks. The movie was kind of disappointing. Afterwards, we went back to my house and watched a movie, and tried some of the new beers I found at Trader Joe's.

My flights on Monday night into Tuesday morning canceled so I spent the night at home and ended up taking a trip to Maryland to visit my younger sister early Tuesday morning. Non-revving is such a pain and 9 times out of 10 I end up on the jumpseat, but it was worth it to spend a few days with my sister and her family.

I got home on Thursday night and stayed in, being lazy with my dogs. Friday I went to yoga and by the time the class was over, I already had an alert that my flight that night had been canceled. In a way, I didn't really mind.

I worked Saturday, Sunday, and Monday nights and initially wanted to pickup a trip on Tuesday or Wednesday but nothing came up on Tuesday so I decided to enjoy the day off. I went to yoga in the morning and then celebrated Taco Tuesday at MiCocina with my favorite brisket tacos and a skinny smash margarita. I stopped for a coffee on my way home and then had to buckle down for the afternoon with work and a meeting.

Last night, Matt and I went to our favorite bar for music bingo. It ended up being a lot of fun but I was so tired and ready to crash by the time I got home.

Today, I was up early to go to the doctor. I was sick last month, went to the doctor, and got meds, which helped for the most part, but I've had a lingering cough. The cough has since turned into a sore throat and ear pain. My doctor did a strep test and it's not strep but ran some other tests that I'm waiting to hear back on. She started me on more meds and if I don't get better, she said I'll have to come back for blood work because I might have mono. I honestly don't think I've even been tested for mono since college when that was standard practice every time you go to the doctor.

I ran some errands today to get craft supplies, my prescriptions, and $5 sushi at Sprouts. At checkout, they asked if I wanted to pay $10 to donate a bag of food and I say no literally all of the time for these things but something in me today said to say yes. I don't know why but I felt like being extra nice. They were so excited and rang the bell and it was like paying it forward.

I worked on sweatshirts all day for my church group and finished most of them except for the embroidery on some since I decided I wanted to personalize them with everyone's names. They were all so excited when I brought the finished ones to church tonight.

Anyway, I have a glass of wine to finish, I'm tired, and I feel like it's time to relax.

xoxo

Annie

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 160

Achilles Castle part 62

Lemonade and lies PART 5

Ayanna: pov I wonder what they are screaming at/about all of a sudden it becomes very clear it's a roach and it's not alone it has a few friends with it. Ew I hate bugs, it feels like hours of watching this camera feed when in reality it has been only an hour.

Kate: pov a woman appears with a baby and walks up to the tattooed guy and slaps him across the face saying that's for not paying child support. Esposito walks in the room asking if I want him to pick up dinner. I'm starting to feel even worse. I say yes that's fine.

Liv: pov Ayanna gets up to talk to Elliot. I ask Kate if she is okay because she doesn't look like she feels good, she says it's probably a cold it will pass. I tell her she should be careful because of her heart. Kate says her cardiologist already knows she doesn't feel good. Kate is coughing. Let's. Hope her cough doesn't get any worse.

Fin: pov Esposito arrives back with the food, he got Kate a special soup. Kate and Liv take their food back to the conference room Ayanna agrees to join them Muncy is also invited. Us Boys are eating in the breakroom chatting about work and life.

Ryan: pov I help clean up the mess from dinner who new tacos Could be so messy. Lanie chose to eat with the girls. I think she wants to check in on Kate more than anything.

Lanie: pov I follow Kate into the woman's bathroom to talk privately, Kate you have to be honest with me how are you really feeling. You have a headache, did you take some tylenol, yes okay. Are you starting to cough, yet? Yes you have a cough can you take a few minutes and come downstairs to the morgue so I can check you out better.

Kate: pov I will be back in a minute Lanie needs me for a few minutes in the morgue she says it's important. Lanie has me sit down on a chair since her morgue table just had a body on it. She takes my temperature, listens to my heart and lungs and says it is a cold. She is concerned about my cough, so far no fever which is great. As soon as I noticed my cough I started taking my cough meds. Alexis dropped them off earlier, since she had the day off from school as was on the way to hang out with Dave.

Muncy: pov back upstairs Kate heads back to her office to keep watching the video feed with Liv and Ayanna. I'm working with Joe checking on people's alibis for the night of the murder. It's starting to get late. Everyone decides to go home and come back very early in the morning.

Castle: pov Kate is Finally home Lanie brought her home since she is sick. Lanie says she can spend the night, just to make sure Kate is okay. Her cough is pretty bad, but thankfully she doesn't have a fever. Lanie grabs the sore throat lollipops Kate can have and an ice pop to help. I turn the TV on so the 3 of us can watch something for a bit. Alexis is still out with Dave and mother should be back soon.

Martha: pov me and my friend had the most amazing time. How is your case going Katherine, oh that's good to hear you have extra help. You look like you don't feel well Katherine. Is everything okay Lanie. Well I hope her cold goes away soon, I'm off to bed. Oh and Alexis texted me she is heading back to Dave's instead of home.

Elliot:pov I head back to my lonely apartment and call the kids to check up on them. Eli is spending the week with Kathleen since she has the week off that way they can do a whole bunch of fun stuff.

Cassidy: pov it's late when Liv gets home, how was your day? I bet it was long. I already fed Noah and helped him with his homework and let him play a little bit of video games before he showered and went to bed. How about some ice cream before bed.

Lanie: pov I was up most of the night with Kate. Her cough is pretty bad. Breakfast is going to be a banana for her and a cup of decaf coffee. The Brand of decaf coffee she drinks has zero caffeine in it. She takes her meds then the cough medicine. I'm a little concerned about Kate so far she hasn't said her chest hurts which is a good thing.

Jenny: pov Ryan is up early getting ready for work, he has his hand resting on my belly where you can feel the baby kicking hard.

Fin: pov everyone shows up at the station early, Esposito has brought donuts and coffee and for everyone and for the people who don't drink coffee he brought hot chocolate and tea. Kate already ate at her house. Liv says Cassidy is dropping Noah off at school and picking him up for her since he has the day off.

Ayanna: pov after taking some time to plan our entry to the warehouse we head out the ride to the warehouse is short, the rest of the officers/detectives are in a van with the name Pam's cleaning on the side. Lanie won't take no for an answer so she is coming with us. She will be in the van with Jet.

Joe: pov Captain Benson and Captain Beckett had agreed to show up, the group arrives at the warehouse with additional officers. All of us are waiting in the cars or van, Muncy and Ayanna are going in with Liv and Kate as two of the girls. Once they give the signal the rest of us and ESU will bust in. Jet hacked into the camera's, lucky there is one in this room. To be continued. ……..

[thedaveandkimmershow]

There's no question I've lost track of time.

Why?

Because it feels like more time has passed since The Little Lies Music at the Marina show in Everett, Thursday July 20.

Like, waaaaaay more time.

It wasn't only a show, of course. We spent time hanging out with Linzy before and after. We spent time hanging out with friends during and after.

We worked, of course, that Thursday as well as the following day, Friday. Then Saturday was The Little Lies at the Bite of Seattle and Sunday was Midnight High at the Bite of Seattle, both days involving a fair bit of travel logistics and walking.

They were all shows and social events during which we got to hang out with fellow fans with whom we normally don't get to spend time. So there was a lot more experience in these experiences.

Then Monday we're back at work. Then Tuesday we're working from home. Then Tuesday evening and night Kimmer's packing our bags and coordinating with our cat-sitter while I'm at the premiere of a short film I cut for a team that competed in the 48 Hour Film Project a coupla weekends before.

By the time I'm home, it's pretty close to 12:30AM, Wednesday the 26th. By the time we're ready to sleep, we're edging passed 1:30AM 'cause we just shoehorned an episode of Madam Secretary in there. 😊

Later the same morning, my alarm goes off at 4:50AM 'cause a more serious alarm'll go off at 5AM and just the threat of that alarm wakes me up to make sure it never happens. The early alarm's because we've gotta be outta the house between 615 and 630, I've got a little tech packing to do, coffee and tea to make, Kimmer to wake up, then Kimmer to actually wake up, then showers all around, getting dressed, gathering up our travel gear, checking the house is good to go (everything locked, appliances off), summoning a ride share, exiting the house, locking the door, watering some plants with the garden hose (believe it or not—that was Kimmer), until our ride arrives.

640AM, by the way, is the moment we're officially on our way. Fifteen minutes later we're at the airport. Four hours later we're in Orange County.

Interestingly, the experience feels more like commuting rather than straight up air travel. The difference I think is that I associate SeaTac with big trips, huge adventures. Even just getting to SeaTac and being at SeaTac is its own adventure. Not so with Paine Field which is more, well, as I said...

A commute. 🤔

And then even from SNA we're only fifteen minutes from family. So being at home during a sunny-ish week then being in Irvine during a very sunny week is a fairly seamless experience. In a way, it's like we're putting less travel and effort into getting from here to there and, because of that, there's a time or two when I have to remind myself that we're not in Kansas anymore.

And this.

Aside from the seamlessness of the traveling, our lifestyle isn't massively different in Irvine with family than it is at home with ourselves. For example, landing in Orange County, our first stop's picking up groceries at Trader Joe's, a very home thing to do. And then once we're settled in, Kimmer's doing her online mental health gig with clients for a few hours. Once she's done, it's dinner out with family (Happy Hour!) at Brü Grill & Market then hanging out with family again until lights out.

Thursday we're on our way, along with Kimmer's nephew, to visit her aunt Jacquie in the courtyard of Jacquie's memory care community while Kimmer's cousin works on Jacquie's home. Afterward, a stop at the local internet service provider for a hardware swap on top of a galling forty-five minutes wait. After that... some work at Jacquie's house continuing our efforts to thin it out. And then, finally, we head off to that fantastic restaurant at the Soboba Casino Resort for tacos and beer (and one Coka Cola 😉).

After leaving the restaurant, one or more of us (excluding the driver) immediately falls asleep for the 90 minute drive back to Irvine after having spent most of the day in temperatures averaging 103 degrees. The high being 105. The low being 100. 🤯

Once home, we flatline for an hour or so before deciding dinner at the Wood Ranch Restaurant at the Irvine Spectrum Center is our best play.

Because meat, you know?

Lots 'n lots 'n lots 'n lots...

Of meat.

Holy Mother of God all that meat. 🥹

It's all superbly delicious whether as a brisket, bbq chicken, tri-tip steak or literally anything else on the menu.

Interestingly, later on, due to a promise Kimmer makes to her nephew, we hit Target (at the other end of the mall) for a box of brownie mix that I subsequently turn into actual brownies we get to eat before bed.

Okay.

So then Friday's a work day for Kimmer. Back online for client appointments and then after hours of that...

Charting.

Always with the charting.

Six-thirty in the evening, Kimmer's cousin gracefully offers us the use of his Miata. You break it, you buy it I think were his exact words. So we refamiliarize ourselves with driving a stick by driving around the nearby neighborhoods then, after that, driving the parking lots surrounding eight warehouses about a mile away after which we head off in random directions until we see a sign that reads Laguna so we turn toward the coast as the sun's on its way down. 😎

Now, the way our improvised route works out is that we eventually hit the Pacific Coast Highway by Dana Point. From there we headed north along the highway into the town of Laguna Beach where we slip off the PCH, heading inland along Laguna Canyon Road during full-blown nighttime. Once we're back, we indulge a coupla episodes of Madame Secretary on the couch... followed by a rare early-to-bed of ten-thirty.

We go right to sleep.

It's hard to imagine, by the way, but this was our third day in Orange County because our first two days felt like four. In the best way possible but still.

It's like we just experienced four days. At least.

Also, the bit of work Kimmer was doing, charting especially, felt like part of our home routine. Making our visit a light variation of home life... only with hotter temps, more sun, the desert, and the Pacific Ocean. 🌞

And then finally...

Today. Our last day... although it feels like any other day. Beginning with charting in the morning followed by jumping into the Miata around 130 to hit up the local GoodWill and the super glitzy GoodWill next door to that followed by Sprouts across the street all of which, as I pointed out before, are variations on our home routine.

Except the Miata, of course. 😕

Now, remember how I told you I made brownies Thursday night? Well, Kimmer's nephew was taking off for the weekend Friday morning and forgot to take the leftover brownies Kimmer set aside for him in the freezer.

So we ate them ourselves. 🤨

Kimmer got to thinking this morning, though, that we ought to make a new batch to leave behind for him which is how we ended up at Sprouts after which we drove over to Woodbury Town Center where we scored ice cream sandwiches we enjoyed out on the patio. Then we scored a coffee, an iced chai tea latte, and a cup of ice cubes from Starbucks across the parking lot and then set ourselves up in an impromptu outdoors office for the next hour-and-a-half.

It really was a lovely experience even if Kimmer was using that time to chart.

When we were done at Woodbury, we headed back, put the Miata back in its home garage and immediately indulged cold showers because we each finished the afternoon a bit hot and sticky. And not in a good way. 😉

Kimmer's already done most of the packing earlier in the day so there's not much to do but hang out in the living room for a bit of writing, charting, and indulging the smoothies Kimmer whipped up for us.

7PM we're out the door with our travel gear.

730 we're checking in at John Wayne and TSAing.

745 we're at Vino Volo continuing a tradition that's no two times old. ☺️

815 we just grabbed seats at the gate when our name's called and we think we're in trouble.

817 we're informed we've been upgraded to First Class.

Dang that was a most excellent plot twist. 🤯

And by 9 we're off the ground, winging our way home, experiencing the surprise of all the goodies that come with having seats in First Class. It shouldn't be a surprise... but it is. It really really is.

😁😁😁

Right now, it's six after eleven and we're descending through the Pacific Northwest night sky to Paine Field. We're sitting in seats 1C and 1D, literally the front of the class.

We'll be out the door soon. Grab our checked bag on the way to the transit center to catch our ride. Probably home again around quarter to midnight.

And when we get home?

We'll put some of our stuff away. One of us will feed the cat. And then we'll catch an episode of Madame Secretary.

Maybe two.

😉

So yeah. Along the way... I lost track of time. I lost track of time as all these events from Music at the Marina through our commute home from Orange County spread out over 9 days and blurred together. 😳

Ultimately, my future brain won't accept the fact that these events went back to back to back as we experienced them. My future brain will probably place these events in their own weeks, perhaps even separated by at least a week. Maybe it'll even "remember" these four days as straddling the end of July, beginning of August, with Linzy's gigs closer to the beginning of July. After all, these experiences couldn't possibly have fit into a touch over one week, could they???

Well... they just did.

☺️

[cementcornfield]

as soon as the deal was announced i was worried about there possibly being resentment towards joe especially amongst the receivers because his deal likely means they will now be separated or will have to take major pay cuts. Ugh i hope that’s not it but with how badly the whole team was yesterday 😬😬😬 joe was out most of preseason but they’ve been playing together for 3 years so for them not to make even ONE touchdown is weird.

yeah, it is slightly worrying! i do think a little resentment is going to be natural in these cases, as it’s always going to be when friendship and business cross like this. in the end though, they’re all really good friends who want what’s best for each other and who, most importantly, want to win championships together. maybe it was all a bit fresh this game, but they can compartmentalize and get that focus back. probably we just need a few more taco nights and ufc viewings and everything will be good :) 

[scorpionyx9621]

Tim Drake Headcanons because it's what? Tim Time Baby (Plus I'm trying to kill time and anxiety is killing me so I'm taking a mental health day but calling out of work is causing me even more stress.)

This man does not have a spleen. This man also fanonically/sometimes canonically has a coffee/caffeine addiction. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn't at any point one or two steps away from mad sprinting it to the bathroom.

Does Tim care regardless? No. Tim knows he shouldn't add extra hot sauce to those tacos, he doesn't care. He knows exactly how much he's going to hate his life sitting on the toilet after that greasy cheeseburger. 👏🏻HE👏🏻DOES👏🏻NOT👏🏻CARE👏🏻. Tim isn't locked inside the limitations of his body, his body is locked in there with the lack of regard Tim has for his gastrointestinal health.

Tim is a bit of a walking trainwreck that somehow manages to hold it together with duct tape, spit, and dreams, so when you can finally convince him to unwind, you have a man who just melts like putty.

To me Tim is the guy who will take a 40 minute shower all because he's the guy who can finally unwind and tune out the world when he's in the shower/swimming/in a jacuzzi. That or when he's skateboarding/fingerboarding.

Tim's ideal fictional setting/universe for a story? Medieval adventure. Tim is a huge Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, The Witcher fan. I headcanon his favorite book growing up was The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis.

Tim also is a big Stephen King fan, especially of the extended universe. His favorite books of his are Salem's Lot and The Green Mile. Tim likes King's vampire books the most so easily his favorite monsters are Kurt Barlow, Rose the Hat, and his favorite Stephen King/Joe Hill monster is Charlie Manx from NOS4ATU

Tim also just finds the actual process of computers and technology to be interesting and fun. Tim would probably sleep through a WWII documentary, but if you ask him to spend 3k and build a dream PC he'd have a hard time putting his mind to rest he's so excited to see how the final build will turn out.

Don't tell Dick, but Tim is the best kisser in the family. He has the best amount of weight, the right amount of pressure, and isn't overly forceful but is lovingly tender. Plus it seems like he always naturally knows when to escalate to something more romantic.

Tim is also shockingly good at making up BS small talk. It helps him level out a person to see if they're nervous, if they're happy, it's how he gauges emotional situations. He's naturally very good at reading the room.

That being said you have to literally beat him upside the head to get him to slow down and pay attention to you in private and intimate settings sonetimes. It's not that he doesn't care or being selfish. He has the brain zoomies and once you sink him into a hyperfixation you have to physically pull him out sometimes to remind him that he is a human and does need to eat/sleep/exercise.

Also if anyone in this damned vigilante family tokes it's him. And he's an indica guy. He likes to turn into a houseplant because it actually can mentally make him slow down for a little bit.

Looks are deceiving. Just because Tim is the leanest/skinniest of his brothers does not mean that he's weak. His build tends to fluctuate more than Dick's or Jason's but Tim is very well built and is very skilled in physical combat. He's not the best fighter but he is the best at using his environment to assist in a fight.

Tim canonically has said donuts are one of his favorite foods. So instead of a birthday cake on his birthday he gets a donut cake. They can be shockingly nice!

You ever hear the story about how the IT/Network guy who only has a printer in his house and keeps a loaded gun on hand in case it starts making noises? Tim is that man. Tim WILL bug the hell out of you if you aren't changing your passwords regularly. He doesn't mean to be annoying but this is him showing he cares.

Tim's go-to for fast food that isn't American? Vietnamese. There's a hole-in-the-wall late-night Vietnamese spot in The Bowery that was owned by the parents of one of Tim's high school classmates. Tim went over to the restaurant to do a group project and the classmate's dad brought out his fried tofu with a heavenly fish sauce glaze and Tim's life was changed forever and for the better that day. At least once a week he'd bring home such wonderful dishes like their cá kho or a banh mi. To the point that in late nights after patrol the Quach family will be visited by at least 2-5 bats on cold nights for their legendary pho.

Tim has some of the naturally best skin in the bat family and everyone hates him for it! Tim doesn't even do all that much. All he does is wash his face once when he wakes up and once before bed with Cetaphil and uses sunscreen liberally. Tim has had 2 pimples during his career as Robin. Stephanie and Cass both want to strangle him for this.

Fun fact: at a Gala Bruce lended Tim one of his golden Rolex watches. Tim felt uncomfortable wearing the watch but didn't want to potentially upset Bruce. It wasn't until Bruce saw how red and marked Tim's wrist was that he pulled the watch off and saw how splotchy his left harm had become. Low and behold, Tim's allergic to gold. How ironic the bat family member who grew up in the same tax bracket as Bruce is allergic to gold.

Tim may not be thick with 69 C's like Jason or look like he's photoshopped like Dick. What Tim does have is some of the most attentive and loving cuddles and touches in the bat family. Tim gives hugs that make you want to cry or just fall asleep in his arms.

Again, Tim may be the weakest fighter of the batboys. That does not mean he is any less capable of making sure you're at the receiving end of a painful ass-kicking. Tim may also have the longest fuse in the family. However once you reach that fuse he won't kill you, but he has no qualms about ensuring your ability to walk or do basic functions is incapacitated. And once a he's done beating you till you're black and blue he'll happy drop you in front of Gotham PD from a safe enough height to not kill or paralyze you, but more than enough to prolong the physical suffering.

Tim is the designated water boy. Tim is the one in the squad who makes sure everyone has enough water/has drank enough water.

When Tim is in a bad mood he gets very quiet and very short with people. Not physically but he gets very snippy and will start shouting. It takes a lot to get Tim this mad so it doesn't happen often that he's like this.

Even though Jason has made several attempts on Tim's life. Tim is arguably the biggest reason why Jason stays with the family. Mostly because Tim is the only person in the family who is willing to go out with and spend time with Jason. The two frequently go out and try new restaurants

Tim is debatabley the worst cook in the Bat Family. He has taken lessons and Alfred and Dick have taught him a few things. But Tim still has a ways to go in the kitchen. He's scorched his fair share of pans and has burned foods on a few occasions.

Tim is shockingly tender when he wants to be. Most people think he's aloof and somewhat distant because of his knack for being the brains of the bat family but you'd be amazed how many details he can remember. He always has your birthday, the day you two first met, and at least 5-10 minor details about you memorized by heart by the time you two meet for a second/third time.

Tim sunburns so easily it's not funny. Our boy goes through at least 2-3 bottles of aloe vera a summer. So he naturally is the most pale of the family outside of maybe Jason. But once he does burn he goes full lobster for like a week, once his skin heals he becomes nice and tan.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 136

This chapter was a chance to explore some more science-based tropes that I absolutely love in stories.  The truth is, when I’m working at my day job, I love listening to documentaries on Curiosity and YouTube channels like Answers with Joe or Kurzgesagt. My love of science fiction actually comes from my love of space and astronomy, not the other way around.

In no way, shape, or form, does this chapter cover any of the concepts in question in full. It’s just a quick convo between Sophia and a good friend ;)

My thanks, as always, go to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname. Plus all of YOU!

Even as my mind wandered, I couldn’t help but grin a bit as I took my weekly stroll through the corridors of the Ark with Miys in tow.  For several years now, we had a standing appointment on my calendar that both Alistair and Tyche treated as sacrosanct - just some time for me to spend with our host, my friend, and learn more about each other.  When I had originally arrived on the Ark, any time I was seen walking with them, other humans would give me odd looks, but never approach.  Now, people would recognize me, smile, and wave, but still never interrupted the strolls.

It was nice. Like my weekly family dinners, it was a routine, pleasant part of my life. Especially days like today, when we were entering the dawn-cycle and each day became a little brighter. It made me wonder about other civilizations, ones that would have evolved in conditions like the ones we were adapting ourselves for. How did it affect them? How would it affect us as generations passed? Future generations were certainly going to be shorter, due to the high gravity. Would it change our technological advances as well - 

“Wisdom, why are you thinking so hard about Gestrcht Clusters?” Miys interrupted my thoughts.

“Hm?” I asked absently. “What’s a Jestrick Cluster?”

“Gestrcht,” they corrected mildly. “Gestrcht clusters are a type of civilization that has adapted to live in artificial platforms surrounding their sun, in order to better harness the solar energy, radiation, or heat needed.”

“You mean a Dyson swarm?” I tried to clarify, confused.

“All of the galaxy calls them Gestrcht clusters, therefore I think that is what you mean.”

“Alright, alright,” I laughed, holding my hands up in defeat. “The reason I was thinking about Gestruck clusters - “

“Gestrcht”

“I will work on it. The reason I was thinking about those is… I was wondering how living on Von will change our priorities. In our history, those constructions were something that fascinated both imagination and science - something several people thought was our launching pad to a Kardashev Type II civilization, or the singularity point. Maybe both.”

“Kardashev…” they hummed for a moment, thinking. “Only humanity would create goals of technological advancement that required destruction on a multi-planetary scale.”

I desperately wanted to object, but strongly suspected they were right. “So we were wrong, again? There are no civilizations out there that would fit what we imagined for a Kardashev I or II race?”

“I will concede to the existence of species that you would consider both. However, it is not how you believe it to be - humanity would never have been able to accomplish it without greater sacrifice than they have ever known.”

Oh boy. “Tell me? I want to understand why other species could do it, but we could not.” My curiosity needed to know.

They held up one of their liw, rocking it back and forth in imitation of a human head tilt. “Species that have managed to harness all of the energy produced by their planet, and not destroy their environments, have historically been those who had very little power to harness to begin with. These civilizations come from either very harsh, or very gentle worlds - never anything in between. Abundant wind energy scouring a planetary desert can greatly benefit a species who can harness that wind to temper it and create a paradise. A planet with no atmosphere, but incredible amounts of geothermal energy runs little risk in being able to direct all of that volcanic activity to its benefit. But Earth?”

“Is a deathworld,” I pointed out. “You said so yourself.”

“This is true, but it is not a deathworld in the way So’Kn is, for example. Preeyar and So’kn are planets that are lethal for very singular reasons: So’Kn is a frozen waste of permanent night and eternal wind. It is so harsh that only So’Knor can truly survive there with without significant technological assistance. Preeyar only has atmosphere in its valleys, and that is thinner than most species can survive, much less the fact that there are no liquids on Preeyar. None. The air pressure is too low to allow it for any chemicals that are naturally occurring, and the atmosphere violently reacts with any elements that could exist in liquid form. It is, in fact, believed that the rift valleys were caused by simply an icy meteor impacting the planet.”

“Ho-lee shit,” I whispered.

“I doubt many cultures would find it holy at all,” they joked drily. “Whereas Earth… There is no one singular quality about Earth that classifies it as a deathworld. Instead, there are several, each stemming from the abundant forms of energy offered by your home world.”

“Seriously!?”

“Indeed. And the combinations thereof. The length of natural disasters that are possible, alone, is unique to Earth. Tornadoes and earthquakes. Flooding and wildfires. Volcanoes and hurricanes. Methane just rising from your lakes to kill large swathes of people. Lakes below your oceans, Wisdom! Volcanoes below your oceans! It is insanity to the entirety of the Galaxy, and yet humans consider that just a normal aspect of existence.”

“And… what exactly does that have to do with being able to harness all the energy of our planet, exactly?” To say I was confused was an understatement.

To their credit, Miys only reached with one vomu to make a ‘nose pinching’ gesture against its head. “Earth, somehow, is only habitable and so abundant in life because everything exists in a precarious balance. Surely, the last two centuries of your own history demonstrated that. Attempting to harness all of the admittedly prodigious energy of your planet would have ended up destroying that balance beyond compare.”

I tried to comprehend it. I really did. Focusing on what little I knew, I thought about dams. Those were familiar to me - I had grown up in an area that dammed every river and creek possible for everything from grain mills and fruit presses, to artificial fish ponds, to electricity. “Starting there…” it was faster not to explain out loud when I knew Miys was following along with the home game, “Damming a river creates a lake. That floods an area that already has a habitat, and dries out another area that already has an aquatic habitat.”

“And prevents floods that fertilize fields and redistribute minerals from erosion, yes.”

“Right. Times every river, creek, and faint trickle on Earth…” I stopped myself. Every river. The Amazon. The Nile. “And we just washed out what’s left of the largest rainforest on Earth.”

“Leaving more carbon in the air…” they encouraged.

“And increasing the greenhouse effect, increasing heat on the surface, melting more ice, which - hey, more wind, amirite? - but changing planetary albedo, more water, wetter Sahara, no dust to fertilize… South America? Dammit, are we back to killing the Amazon again?”

“That is just one form of energy, Wisdom. But I feel you are understanding the issue.”

“Yeahhhh…” I trailed off. “Okay, so. Kardashev I is no bueno tacos for Earth. What if we skipped straight to Kardashev II slash singularity?” I made a point to focus on the concept of technological singularity very hard, so there would be less need for research on their part. You know, spare myself half a minute or so. “The Gestrkt clusters.”

“Closer,” they admitted, although I was suspicious they meant my pronunciation and not the idea that humanity would ever get there. “Humanity is not… suited, for Gestrcht clusters.”

“Wait, what?”

“Humanity is too curious, too social, and too exploratory. Your fiction abounds with every variation of different worlds and strange universes you could possibly conceive of. And it constantly expanded - your oldest texts involve travelling to your moon, and when you actually reached it, you looked further out - other systems, other galaxies, other dimensions. Gestrcht clusters require such substantial resources and maintenance, there is little left over for exploration.”

“There are humans who would be perfectly content living in such a structure,” I argued, although my heart wasn’t in it. I wouldn’t have been, knowing that other worlds were out there.

“Not enough to sustain it, unfortunately. Not even in what you call the Before.” Lightly resting one vomu on my shoulder, they squeezed gently. “Wisdom, humanity has always wanted to see other worlds. Gestrcht clusters are all or nothing.”

“And singularity?” I asked, barely managing a hoarse whisper.

“It is true that there have been some singleton species that have achieved what you term singularity with technology. Fewer have been successful.” When I glanced at them, all six upper appendages were held up in defense. “Hive minds are uniquely suited to it, and even some of us,” they waved those same six appendages at their torso, “would never accept it. I could never imagine not having the chance to travel the galaxy, to be with other races as they experience it. Add to that, humanity is somehow both individual and social. Removing that line, that choice? I doubt your kind would thrive. Postulate this: Derek, in a hive mind.”

“Absolutely not,” came my unhesitating response, disgust and violence trembling in every limb before I calmed myself. “And I see your point. Integrating technology in our lives, into how we function…” I tapped my head for emphasis, “that’s one thing. It makes our lives better, by making sure that Derek, and others, can have their personal space protected.” The more I thought about it… I never considered the idea in reference to ‘now’, only ‘eventually’. What if we did it now, and I was one of the people - suddenly never alone, always connected to every thought of strangers via technology. What if Tyche was? Or Maverick? Hell, Charly? “I think I need a shower, now,” I admitted, skin crawling.

“Humanity could achieve both,” Miys confirmed, although it didn’t feel as reassuring as I had hoped it would at the beginning of our conversation. “But I don’t think humanity would truly want to live in Gestrcht clusters or singularity, given any other choice but extinction.”

Laughing, I wiped a tear from one eye.  It was a bitter truth, but still true. “I think you’re right.”

“I may be wrong,” they countered. “As I said, there are singleton species who have made those transitions and the entire galaxy is better for it.”

“Some hope that we weren’t entirely wrong would be nice right about now,” I mumbled as I scuffed my shoe at the floor. There wasn’t anything to kick except Else-puffs, and that was just mean as fuck.

“Most species that made a transition to Gestrcht clusters early in their development are belligerent, insular species. The fact that they must focus all their efforts and resources on maintaining their platforms prevents them from becoming actively warlike. As far as ‘singularity’... singleton species who thrive in that transition are often species who cannot thrive on a galactic scale otherwise.”

Huh? I craned my neck to try to look up at them in the perpetual-dawn light. “What do you mean?”

Miys flicked a datapad open - one I know they only wore for our sakes, seeing as they could not actually see anything on the purely-optical screen, I had learned. They could only navigate it if interacting with a human, so they could ‘see’ what they needed to tap out.

Needless to say, Charly and Grey had been working for years on one that responded to sonic commands.

Eventually, a seven-fingered flick caused my own databand to chirp. I flicked it open to see the file. “They… Noah, this looks like sentient pollen… or feathers…” Realistically, any description I tried to create fell devastatingly short. The being on my datapad moved as though it was floating on wind, with tens of thousands of filament-fine tendrils swaying and navigating. The sound it created reminded me of the sound of snowfall, if snowflakes could sing opera. “They’re beautiful,” I sniffed, driving back tears at knowing something so breathtaking existed.

“They also cannot survive off their planet, unfortunately. Even the transition out of their atmosphere is lethal to them.”

My heart shattered into a million pieces. “What is their name?”

“No one knows for certain. But they have achieved a sort of singularity - once they have matured and reproduced, they upload themselves at the end of their very brief lifecycles. In the Galactic Community, they are known as Odvub.”

“Odvub…” I whispered, holding out my fingers like I could actually touch the screen.

“Outside of a Hujylsogox rescue ship, it is nearly impossible to avoid encountering Odvub. Most believe they are some sort of galactic artificial intelligence, and they prefer to allow that belief.”

“Why are you telling me this, then?”

“They have permitted it, when these sort of questions are asked. To show what desperation is required for a singleton species to thrive in singularity.”

I sniffed, desperately trying not to cry at their situation. “Do they know about humans?”

“They may be the only species who could not avoid knowing about it. But Odvub believes your people are hearty, and adaptable, and should never suffer their fate. They advised, in the event that your people ever ask about singularity, to do this…” Miys gently cupped my cheek in one liw and patted it, “and tell you that you will never need to resort to what they had to do, and that they look forward to meeting your people one day.”

“Obviously not face to face,” I admitted quietly. “I have allergens that are more substantial than they are.”

“It is considered a great honor in the Galactic Community for this icon to display when  you interact with Odvub.” Miys gestured at the vicinity of the image on my datapad. “Only those who know why, know why it is an honor.”

“We’ll take it,” I laughed, tears streaming down my cheeks. “All of humanity may never know why, but we’ll take it. If I may tell Arthur, we probably will know why.” He would see to it. Loudly, angrily, derisive of anyone who mocked it. “Regardless, we’ll take it, all the same.”

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[adultswim2021]

Robot Chicken #2: “Junk in the Trunk” | February 20, 2005 – 11:30PM | S01E01

Well, this might be the moment I was dreading most of all. There’s a handful of shows on Adult Swim that I outright hate, but most of them are a flash-in-the-pan. Robot Chicken is the one show that I hate that inexplicably has enough staying power that it’s still fucking on.

I have another thing to contend with here; as I’ve been doing this project I’ve been attempting to rank every episode of every show on a huge list. I don’t know how I’m gonna rank Robot Chicken. My guess is that I’m going to have to include a little note to myself describing the episode-defining sketch and use that as a guide. I’m guessing my Robot Chicken rankings will be basically nonsense. We’ll see.

This episode starts with a sketch with George W. Bush declaring “tacos rule”, Bush is depicted in his “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED” flight fatigues, which was a joke lifted from Will Ferrell who mentioned that he wanted to portray the president on Saturday Night Live as having never taken said fatigues off. The concept was rejected and found a home here. It’s maybe the best joke Robot Chicken ever did, and it’s not even theirs. Furthermore, “tacos rule” is more or less a Beavis and Butt-head joke.

There are several iconic Robot Chicken bits in this. I don’t recall ever actually watching this episode before, but I recognized lots of imagery from promos and stuff. Rachel Leigh Cook does a parody of her own PSA where she trashed a kitchen with a frying pan (itself a sequel to the original 80s “this is your brain on drugs” ad). There’s the one-sided fist-fights sketch, which has some bits that I almost smiled at, including a Max Weinberg-looking business man punching a baby (in a baby carriage) over and over after having stolen some candy from it. Funny enough sight gag.

A favorite target of Robot Chicken is Transformers, so there’s a longish sketch in this about Optimus Prime getting prostate cancer. This has the one gag that I made me let out an audible chuckle; when he passes away (surrounded by loved ones on his death bed) he transforms into a coffin. That’s a joke that’s so good that it shone through whatever it is I hate about this show.

I guess what bothers me the most about Robot Chicken is the same thing that bothers me about bad episodes of Sealab and Harvey Birdman; a lot of unmotivated zaniness. This is a rapid-fire sketch show, so one should sorta give it a little leeway in that regard, and I’d like to think that I do. But there’s other things.

Robot Chicken draws from a particular kiddie pool of references. It’s mostly preoccupied with making fun of boyish childhood totems like Transformers, G.I. Joe, et. al OR very recent popular culture, like mocking MTV programs that were on the air at the time, or making jokes about young celebrities that Seth Green was probably friendly with (and often voiced themselves). The show operated at a deficit with me because while I was roughly the right age to be into Transformers or G.I. Joe... I kinda just wasn’t. I remember having some of those toys, but those shows mostly bored me. I think I figured out I liked comedy primarily over everything else pretty early on. My most cherished childhood program after Sesame Street were reruns of original cast Saturday Night Live. The enthusiasm the Robot Chicken crew showed for He-Man was something I couldn’t relate to, even though I watched plenty of He-Man in my youth... I just didn’t really care for it much. It’s like, I get all these references but I just don’t give a shit.

The flagship sketch at the end is a blooper show, which is just a framework for more Robot Chicken-esque short sketches showing crazy stop-motion sight-gags. There’s a corky reference, which seems really out of left field. I sorta braced myself for a good old fashioned problematic chuckle, but the gag here was just a retarded guy saying he went doodoo in his pants. I’m of an age where my classmates in school would make Corky references, and this seemed like they just cribbed that joke from my 2nd grade recess. It was simultaneously too tasteless and not tasteless enough. A prime example of Robot Chicken’s stunning mediocrity.

The show ends with the blooper presenter hanging himself for no apparent reason. I immediately pictured a similar gag happening on The Eric Andre Show, and how I’d probably laugh at something like that if he did it. Robot Chicken just comes off as boyish and simplistic to me. It also seems so satisfied with itself all the time. Every joke is told in this smarmy way, which sucks when almost every sketch is “TV SHOW YOU REMEMBER, BUT THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT SHOULD HAPPEN HAPPENS!” Is it a children’s program? some demons show up and start beheading people. Is it is a scary horror movie with monsters in it? Well, they’re having a tea party! Hell, here we see C-Span infused with MTV’S Total Request Live, and that’s not a bad concept, really, and I guess it didn’t outstay it’s welcome or anything, but I didn’t laugh.

Lucky for me, there’s more episodes of this show per season than any other show on the block. Ugh.

CONTACTING GHOST PLANET

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #1: “Spanish Translation” | April 15, 1994 | S01E01

Alright, I figured that reviewing Robot Chicken would be such a chore that I decided to start tackling Space Ghost along with it as a special treat. I may consciously keep these kinda shorter in the future, but this is the first Space Ghost episode and you know that is special.

The first episode of Space Ghost I ever saw was the short on The Mask VHS tape. I had a cousin who lived on the outskirts of town and had a different cable system that had Cartoon Network, so staying over on the weekends was my only shot at ever watching Space Ghost on TV. By the time Cartoon Network was added to our family’s cable package it was during it’s final Cartoon Network season, and before Adult Swim was announced it didn’t seem like it was ever coming back for new episodes. I taped as many of them as I could, fearing for the worst.

The early episodes of Space Ghost I tend to soft sell to people looking into getting into the show. They typically carry a warning of not being “as good”, usually followed up with an explanation that the show started out as crude filler and didn’t really become GREAT or fully-formed until a few years later. In fact, this is one of the rare shows that I think gets incrementally funnier as it goes along. The biggest single thing to point out in that regard is the performances. In these early episodes the cast is just mimicking the voice actors they inherited the roles from. It wasn’t until later that George Lowe adopted a more relaxed, “basically just doing his own voice” approach to Space Ghost, a huge breakthrough in the show’s comedic style.

Incredibly enough, there’s a lot of elements already in place in this installment that would be present in some of the better episodes of the show. There’s awkward comedy (the first joke of the show is basically Space Ghost realizing he’s standing on the wronger marker and apologizing to the crew; it’s so brief you might even miss it), there’s the use awkward interview footage where the subject has their guard down (here we’re treated to a few seconds of Susan Powter finishing a salad before her interview), odd, subtle editing (there’s a bit here where Susan Powter is complementing Space Ghost’s power bands and the editors have punctuated her slightly odd blinking with little cartoon sound effects; a gag I missed until this most recent watch). There’s also an absurdist concept running through the show; every few minutes the show pauses so it can translate certain phrases into Spanish as though this episode were intended to be an educational tool. It is not explained why.

Here some things that stuck out on the opposite side of the spectrum: Brak and Sisto appear here as a parody of Beavis and Butt-head. This is coming off a barrage of Gen-X style references. I feel like Space Ghost usually had a lot of references of a certain age baked into it, but here it’s just blatant. There’s also a little gag in a fake commercial for Zorak and Moltar singing lullabies on compact disc; the final song is called “If you see kay, tell her I called” which is a sly adult-style reference to future-rapist-thug Louis C.K.

MAIL BAG

In one of the youtube videos you linked I see adult swim advertised a sneak peek of the movie Elektra. I trust you will be covering this.

No way. NASTY! They should’ve gotten a woman with a nicer butt

[annieintheaair]

Go pretend you hate me, treat me like the crazy one. Yeah, you keep doing you and I'll do better.

Cinco de Mayo was pretty exceptional. I made it to yoga and then decided to head over to MiCocina. I had every intention of sitting at the bar but it was full so I ended up at a table for two by myself. I looked around the restaurant and there were couples everywhere, most of them not even paying attention to each other but sitting at the tables together and on their phones. I realized that maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought I was by sitting by myself.

I didn't need a menu-- I knew I wanted a Skinny Smash Margarita and brisket tacos. The waiter laughed a little when I told him I didn't need the menu. I wish I could be as confident about other decisions in my life as I am about ordering brisket tacos and a margarita. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted those things. I wish love was like that, too. I wish, instead of needing to swipe on a huge selection of people on a dating app, we could just know, without a doubt, that there was one person we wanted to be with.

I enjoyed my two margaritas and tacos and was going to go to Trader Joe's but instead decided that it was getting late and I actually wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

As my only night off from work, I took advantage and slept late. I've been extra tired lately and although my job wears me down, I think it's also the issues I've been having with my ears lately. I've had multiple sinus infections in the last year and my primary care doctor explained that it was most likely caused by whatever allergies I'm experiencing due to where I'm currently living.

I think it's a combination of ongoing sinusitis and eustachian tube dysfunction. If I turn my head upside down, I get this horrible feeling in my throat and nose. It feels like I went underwater and breathed in the water. I'll drink lots of water to try to clear it but it's incredibly painful. My ears keep getting stuck popped, too, and work has just made it worse with the pressurization. I've had bad headaches and constantly feel a weird congestion in the back of my nose. I called my ENT yesterday and they can't even get me in for an appointment until the 22nd. I wish there was a better solution.

Despite being tired, I was super productive in many ways yesterday. I got up early to take my dogs for their annual shots, which was something on my to-do list that I had really been dreading. I treated myself to a horchata chai latte from the local coffee shop and then headed home to get work done. I finished three whole projects for my second job and felt so accomplished that I rewarded myself with a poké bowl for lunch/dinner.

I was supposed to fly last night to Tulsa but of course, our flight first got delayed and eventually, our pilots went illegal so the flight was delayed until 5am. I had an awkward argument on the jetbridge with an agent supervisor who wanted to board the plane before the pilots even arrived and could brief us about the weather. When the captain finally arrived, he agreed that we could not board and had the passengers go back to the terminal.

There was a commuting pilot who tried to back me up when arguing with the agent and later he told my pilots how proud he was of me for standing up to the agent the way that I did. My whole crew was so supportive and I felt like I did something right for once, even though it was hard. A passenger said something mean to me as we walked off the plane and I just ignored him. I can't control the weather, especially not the tornados in Oklahoma.

I was home by 1:30am and got into bed with my dogs and allowed myself to sleep until about 9am. It was a struggle to get myself out of bed but somehow I managed. I had to cancel my Volvo service appointment today, which was super annoying and a pain to reschedule.

I don't know why but May always seems to be a crazy month for me. Of course, both cars are due for service, my dogs needed their annual shots, and I'm due for multiple appointments like my ENT appointment, audiologist appointment, and even a hair appointment. Y'all, it's going to be a busy month!

Despite being crazy busy and working extra, I decided, while at dinner on Sunday night, that I'd like to do weekly date nights. I have a list of restaurants that I've wanted to try in Fort Worth and since I'm sticking around for a little longer, I have time to explore the places I've wanted to go that I never got to go with Todd. I've never had issues with going to restaurants alone while on layovers for work and honestly, going alone in Fort Worth is no different. Since this place isn't permanent, I feel so much more accepting and brave of going to restaurants alone.

I'm flying to Houston tonight and hopefully, that goes smoothly because I really can't handle another messed-up trip right now. I know I'm supposed to be a palm tree but sometimes, I just feel like I can't keep swaying without breaking.

xoxo

Annie

[star-sky-earth]

untitled

bellamy/clarke | PG | 2200 words

warnings: brief reference to past underage (bellamy/clarke), references to pregnancy, references to breastfeeding, mild violence

for the anon who wanted protective!bellamy getting into a bar fight over clarke. i hope you like it!

this is kind of set in my sleep series verse, but this will make sense even if you haven’t read that fic.

<<Just got back with Joe. Have a good night.>>

Bellamy smiles and shuts off his phone, looking up just as Clarke starts to descend the stairs. She moves slowly, clumsy in heels after so long, and when she gets to the bottom of the staircase she pauses, taking a quick breath for courage before she looks up at him. Her hands pluck anxiously at the fabric of her dress, smoothing it self-consciously over her hips, the little swell of her tummy.

“How do I look?” she says, clearly nervous, unsure of herself in a way that she hasn’t been in years, not since they first got together, not since she was fifteen and undressing in front of him for the first time. “Okay?”

He swallows hard at the wave of tenderness that washes over him, heart thudding in his chest, the bloom of desire in his belly shot through with a sharp, protective edge. He should be ashamed of himself. He loves Clarke’s confidence, the attitude she’s gained since being at college, the easy assurance that adulthood has given her, but he can’t deny that something about her like this, the way that she looks up at him with those big, blue, nervous eyes, gets him weak.

After all these years, there’s still nothing he wants more than to take care of his girl.

Bellamy slides his phone into his pocket, reaching out for her, squeezing her hand gently when she interlaces her slender fingers through his. He runs a thumb over her bracelet, the slim silver bangle he gave her when she turned sixteen, then lifts her hand to his lips, dropping a kiss into her palm.

“Beautiful, princess,” he says, mouth against her hammering pulse, letting some of the desire he’s feeling bleed into his voice, a husky edge that gets her blushing, looking away with a half-pleased, half-embarrassed expression. “Always beautiful, baby.”

It hasn’t been an easy few months, for either of them. Amazing, overwhelming, terrifying, exhausting, yes. Sleepless nights crashing into bleary-eyed days and back again, brief glimpses of pure, euphoric bliss interspersed with dark moments of self-doubt, taken from the highest highs to the lowest lows, emotions Bellamy still doesn’t have names for. Joe was born four months ago, fighting his way into the world after a long, difficult labour and an emergency c-section, Bellamy blinking away tears above a surgical mask as he clung tight to Clarke’s hand and they finally watched their son, bloody and screaming, laid on her chest. The first few weeks at home were a blur, both Clarke and Joe doing little more than sleeping and eating, Bellamy hovering protectively over his tiny family, simultaneously proud and absolutely terrified. He’s never seen anything like Clarke during labour, still feels his heart catch in his chest when he lets himself think about it, how strong she’d been and yet so weak at the end, barely able to hold her head up yet still pushing long past the point of exhaustion.

To look at her now, you’d never know. Moving easy again, carrying Joe around on her hip like she was born to be a mother, the angry red scar slung along the bottom of her belly finally faded to a light pink line. Every inch of her miraculous body slowly putting itself back together before his eyes, just a little softer than before, a little more sensitive, her hips a little rounder in his hands, and her breasts…

God. Bellamy gets hard just thinking about her breasts, swollen from breastfeeding and exquisitely sensitive, skin so pale it’s almost translucent, like the finest, softest silk. He’s never been so eager, and yet so terrified, to touch her, and the contrast drives him insane. They haven’t had sex since Joe was born, and it’s got to the point where it’s all he thinks about, angling himself away at night so she can’t feel how hard he is for her, how desperate he is, ready to die rather than feel like he’s pressuring her. Added to all his first-time father worries, his love for Joe like a faucet he doesn’t know how to turn off, he feels like his heart has expanded ten times over and split open clean down the middle, emotion spilling out everywhere, on edge and almost vibrating with a nervous energy he doesn’t know what to do with.

God, and he’d thought he was crazy in love with her before.

They take it slow, their first night out, neither of them able to go more than ten minutes without checking their phones. He’s booked a table at their favourite mexican restaurant, and they both eat an embarrassing amount, practically inhaling tacos after weeks of living off Uber eats, grilled cheeses and the downright suspicious casseroles that Octavia drops off at irregular intervals. Clarke even has a glass of wine, giggly and pink after a year without alcohol, and Bellamy doesn’t know how he keeps his hands off her, so cute and adorable and insanely, distressingly sexy. Even when she was away at college, he’s not sure that they’ve ever gone this long without having sex before, and he’d happily wait another four months if she wanted to, but fuck, he hopes that she doesn’t want to.

After they eat, they wander along the riverfront, stopping to gaze out across the water, watch the light of the moon dappling across the waves. Clarke shivers, her jacket too thin for the crisp spring air, and Bellamy draws her in close, takes a chance and kisses her, slowly winding his arms around her waist. She’s sweet in his arms, and he feels like he’s falling in love with her all over again, a whole new level of love he never knew existed, like living your whole life in one dark room and suddenly opening the window, the warmth of the sun hitting your skin for the first time.

Eventually they end up at a bar, some tiny, half-empty place tucked in between two closed shopfronts, just one disinterested bartender that doesn’t even look up when they walk in. Clarke finds a booth in the back corner while Bellamy gets the drinks, glancing over his shoulder to catch her checking her reflection in her phone, running her thumb over her freshly-kissed lips.

“There you go,” he says, sitting down next to her in the booth, sliding her wine glass over. He puts his arm around her shoulders, leaning in to nuzzle against her neck until she giggles, squirming in his hold. Undeterred, he slides his mouth up to just under her ear, that sensitive spot that makes her swallow down a gasp, her whole body relaxing against him. He swears she smells different than she used to - richer, sweeter, milkier - and he just about stops himself from groaning as he inhales, feeling his cock harden under the table.

A loud peal of laughter echoes across the room, and Bellamy stops when he feels Clarke stiffen, raising his head to see a couple of men at the bar staring right at them, beers in hand. One of them - middle-aged, patchy beard, tribal tattoo winding its way around her rangy arm - lets his eyes drop to Clarke’s chest, and she sits up straight, pulling her jacket tightly around her. The guy leers even more, unabashed, unashamed, even when Bellamy stares him down.

“It’s okay,” Clarke says, putting her hand on Bellamy’s arm. “Leave it.”

Bellamy nods, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He hates it - hates the way that some guys treat Clarke just because she’s a pretty girl, hates the fear that bubbles in his chest when he thinks about what might happen if he wasn’t here, hates the intrusion into their perfect evening, how quickly their joy is dampened, like a pair of scissors snipping neatly through a thread. But most of all he hates this - the way that the light dims in Clarke’s eyes, the way her lower lip trembles as she presses her mouth tightly together, how her shoulders slump to disguise her shape, like there could ever be anything about her beautiful body to be ashamed of.

“Hey,” he says quietly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “You wanna go?”

She shakes her head no, managing a smile, and he takes her lead, doing his best to distract her with conversation, to make her laugh, get her feeling comfortable again. Their luck holds, the men at the bar thankfully staying silent, and soon Clarke is glowing again, staring up at him with adoring liquid eyes, wine glass empty, Bellamy unable to tear his eyes away from her smile, her soft pink mouth.

“You want another drink?” he asks, praying she says ‘no’. ‘No’ now, and ‘yes’ later, when they’re alone and she’s finally in his arms, naked and soft and his. Clarke’s tracing patterns across his hand where it lies on the table, even that delicate touch agonising for how it stokes the flames of desire in his body, threatening to reduce him to ash.

“No,” Clarke says lightly, looking up at Bellamy from under lowered lashes. She bites her lip, reaching up to trail her fingers over his forearm, running her nails over his skin to make him shiver. “Take me home, Bellamy.”

Bellamy’s not proud of how quickly he stands up from the booth, holding his hand out to steady Clarke as she follows, swaying slightly on her heels. He pauses, considering. A year without drinking means that her tolerance is at rock-bottom, and she’ll be miserable tomorrow if she’s hungover when they go to pick up Joe.

“Let’s grab a bottle of water for you, okay?”

He eyes the men at the bar as they approach, letting go of Clarke’s hand so that she can stand a little way away, by the exit but still in his eyeline. One guy has the good sense to avoid his eye, tearing at the label on his beer bottle, but the older man with the tattoo stands his ground, sidling closer to Bellamy as he pays for the water.

“Where do I get a girl like that?” he asks, slurring. His breath is sour with booze and tobacco, but Bellamy doesn’t let himself react, keeping his face carefully blank as he pockets his wallet.

“You mean my wife?” he says evenly, setting his hand down on the bar so that the light glints off the thick silver band of his wedding ring.

The guy snorts, shrugging his shoulders, taking another swig from his beer.

“Lucky man,” he says with a snigger, already laughing at his own joke. “Bet you never go hungry, not with that waiting for you at home.”

And then he grins. He fucking grins, and Bellamy doesn’t know how he stops himself from tearing the guy apart with his bare hands. Because not only is this man talking like this about Clarke. Not only is he talking like this about Bellamy’s wife, his best friend, the mother of his child, the centre of his entire fucking world.

He actually thinks Bellamy will laugh too.

Instead Bellamy smiles back, tight lipped and quick, and reaches for the guy’s hand. There’s just enough time to see the look of surprise on the older man’s face before Bellamy’s moving, twisting the guy’s arm up behind his shoulder, pushing him face down on the bar. The other man struggles, but Bellamy’s prepared, increases the pressure just so on the man’s thumb, causing him to cry out, freezing in place.

“Say it again,” Bellamy says, leaning down close, close enough that he can see each individual drop of sweat gathering on the other man’s brow, hear his laboured pants as he tries to breathe through the pain. Bellamy presses again on his thumb, just because he can, the bone threatening to snap, watching as all the blood drains from the guy’s face. “Say it again, I dare you.”

The guy’s friend, Bellamy notes dispassionately, doesn’t make a move to defend his friend, just stands there dumb and dumbfounded, still holding his beer.

“That’s what I thought,” Bellamy says when his opponent stays silent. He lets go, and the man slumps against the bar, breathing hard. Slowly he pushes himself up, rubbing his injured hand and staring at Bellamy resentfully.

Bellamy grabs the bottle of the water from the bar and heads for the exit, putting his arm around Clarke as he swiftly guides her through the door and out onto the street.

“Are you okay?” he says as soon as they get outside. Concerned, he reaches under Clarke’s chin to tip her face up towards him, heart racing as he searches her expression to see if she’s upset. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want me to make a big deal of it, but - ”

He’s cut off by Clarke’s mouth against his, her arms winding around his neck as she leans up, pressing her body against him. Stunned, it takes him a moment to react, to kiss her back, but then desire roars through him, the adrenalin of the almost-fight still racing through his veins, heartbeat pounding in his ears, and suddenly it’s like he can’t kiss her deep enough, can’t feel enough of her, can’t get her close enough.

When Clarke finally pulls back, her mouth is swollen, her eyes sparkling and wild. She’s breathing hard - they both are, each breath visible in the cold night air - and she smiles as she teases her mouth against his, Bellamy helplessly following each movement, just as gone for her now as he’s ever been.

“Take me home, Bellamy.”

[awkward-radar-tech]

Kylo Ren, The Rising Star

Summary: You are Kylo Ren’s personal assistant. The rising star doesn’t know how to cope with his sudden popularity. You let him take sanctuary in your apartment, and help him return to who he was before, Ben Solo.

A/N: I’m stating this now, no romantic relationship blooms in this. But, the seeds are planted. And I will write more where the relationship does grow, if requested.

Prompt, from an anon:  But I got an idea, how about worn out actor Kylo Ren aka Ben Solo has been doing to much lately he doesn't even know what time zone he's in sometimes. Reader is average Joe lucky enough to be his PA in his new film. With the stress of everything and fans following him everywhere Ben hides out at your house, were he sleeps all day in your bed and you feed him lots of food, cos you like to cook?

Chapter 2

🌟🌟🌟

You didn’t know what you were getting into when you applied to be an assistant for a local movie shoot. But being the new personal assistant to the biggest rising star was not it at all. And you weren’t always local like you expected. Being Kylo Ren’s PA meant you had to go with him on his other press tours during breaks in shooting. Caffeinated anything had become your friend, and today was one where you were dependant. You had jumped across every American time zone in a day and a half, and now you had crossed the Atlantic, only to turn around in twelve hours and fly home.

You checked your watch and went to knock on Kylo’s dressing room door, “Twenty minutes until you’re on, sir. Do you need anything else?”

He opened the door, still in the t shirt and jeans he wore on the plane, “I just have one question, where are we?” 

You looked at him, concerned, “We are in London, sir. You’re doing an interview for ‘the rom-com’ right now. Your suit should be hanging up for you.”

He yawned, “I told you to call me Kylo, not sir. And it is there. Could you step in real quick?”

You nodded and waited for him to step aside, following him inside, “Sorry, Kylo. So used to using sir. Now, what do you need?” 

He closed the door and sat on the couch, “First, no need to apologize. Second, can I have a caffeine pill?”

You pulled out a packet from your bag and handed it to him, “You can hold onto these. But, uhh, Kylo, you didn’t need to ask me in here for that. Nobody cares how you stay awake.”

He hummed, “Thank you, (y/n),” he quickly took a pill, “and that isn’t why I asked you in here. I have an unconventional request, that nobody can know about.”

“Yes?”

“This movie, people are going crazy over it. They have surrounded my building at home, waiting for my return apparently. It is exhausting having to go through all these people, some have even found ways inside my building and to my door. I need a break. Could I stay at your place? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Kylo, sir, I live in a run down apartment. You wouldn’t want to stay there. And my couch is only a bit longer than this one, you wouldn't sleep very well."

"I'd much rather stay there than possibly anger fans. Please, think about it."

You gave him a pointed look and checked your watch, “Fifteen minutes, Kylo. Now get changed.”

You left the room, closing the door. Kylo was, but also wasn’t, your boss, and he was asking to stay at your place? He had bodyguards, couldn’t they tell the fans to leave? No, he cared too much about his fans’ feelings to have them told to leave. Maybe you would let him stay. Once back he was off for a week, so he wouldn’t have to leave. It would be fun to hang out with somebody for once, even if it was the person you worked for.

The interview went well, and before long you were being taken to a hotel for the night. 

You followed Kylo outside to the car and he looked at you once inside, “Woah… It is already night?”

You nodded, “Yeah, it is almost eight. I think we are here for like ten hours then we head home to rest for a week.”

As you pulled up at the hotel, there were clearly a bunch of fans waiting for him, and you heard a muttered “shit.”

You looked at him, “When we get home, you can stay at my place, okay?”

He smiled wide for once in his life, “Thank you, so much, (y/n). I’ll give you a bonus.”

You shook your head, “We’ll talk about it later. I don’t want any extra money. Think of it as a kind gesture from a friend.”

The door was opened and Kylo was escorted into the building. You stayed in until the car parked before grabbing your own stuff and going up to your room; there were shrieks from girls, obviously he decided to stop and talk. You went up to your room and got ready for a bit of sleep. 

As you washed your face you heard your phone ringing in the other room. When you went out to check it, you read it was Kylo calling, so quickly answered it.

“How can I help you, Kylo?”

“What time do I have to be ready by? Need to set my alarm.”

“Six. Hopefully the crazies won’t be awake then.”

He groaned, “Hopefully. Thank you. Goodnight, (y/n).”

“Goodnight, Kylo. Text me in the morning so I know you’re awake please.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and hung up. 

In the morning he clearly hadn’t slept much, or well, he was a living zombie in a somehow oversized sweatshirt, clutching to a cup of coffee.

He looked at you in the hallway, “Oh, I forgot to ask if you wanted a cup. Security brought it up to me. They said everybody left at like 2 am, so the coast is clear.”

You gave him a warm smile, “It is alright, Kylo. I’m fine. Let’s head down to the car then.”

You thankfully got to the airport and onto the plane without incident, people have better things to do between 6 and 7 am on a Tuesday apparently. Landing back in Los Angeles was a different story, people don’t care that it is noon on a Tuesday. 

Kylo still looked exhausted, and you hoped nobody followed you. As the car pulled up to the studio you knew you would be safe. You showed Kylo to your car and got in to drive to your apartment.

He looked at you as you pulled out of your spot, “Hey, thank you so much. I appreciate it, more than you might think.”

You nodded, “You’re welcome, Kylo. Do you want to listen to some music?”

“Sure. Listen to what you normally do.”

You turned on your radio, the bluetooth connecting and automatically playing your playlist. You tapped along to the songs on your steering wheel as you drove. After twenty minutes you pulled up to your run down building and parked in your spot.

You turned to Kylo, “No crazy fans it seems. That is good.”

He hummed, “Yeah. But there are still people around that could recognize me.”

“If they ask if you’re Kylo Ren just tell them no and give a fake name. I don’t talk with my neighbors so they don’t know what I do. And none of my friends know who I work for.”

He nodded and prepared himself to step out. He messed up his hair so it wasn’t as perfect as his normal style, put on the hood of his sweatshirt and stepped out, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

You stepped out and got your bag from your trunk. You looked over at him awkwardly looming next to the car, “Let’s go, sir.”

He followed you like a lost puppy, and then you heard the voice of your annoying neighbor from the floor below yours, “Hey, 32! Is that Kylo Ren?”

You turned to her voice, “No. This is my friend.”

She acted like you were lying, “You sure?”

He stepped in, “Uh, yeah. I’m Ben. But I get that a lot. It is a bit tiresome.”

You tried to pull him away and walk inside, but she wouldn’t relent, why did she have to be out? And why did she care? She has always been vocal about despising everything about Hollywood, especially celebrities.

“Do you have ID to prove it?”

Kylo stopped and you turned, “Ben, don’t pay her any mind, let’s go get some lunch.”

He didn’t move when you pulled, “No, she wants proof I’m not stupid Kylo Ren, I’ll prove it,” he pulled out his ID and showed it to her, “See? Benjamin Solo. Now, can me and my friend go have some lunch? I’m rather hungry and I have a short fuse when I haven’t eaten.”

She just walked away after reading his ID. He looked to you and you just walked in, taking the elevator up and getting him in your apartment.

You threw down your bag as soon as you closed your door, “I’m so damn sorry Kylo. She is so annoying, and thinks she can know anything she wants. She isn’t even on this floor, she is in 21. But, uhh? You aren’t really Kylo Ren?”

He sat on your couch, “Well, I am now. I legally changed my name last year when people started recognizing me, but I still have my old ID, which I had just renewed a few months before I changed my name.”

You nodded, not wanting to pry further, "Alright then. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Can I get some water please?"

You went and dropped your stuff in your room then got him a glass of water.

You sat on the floor after you gave him the cup, "TV? Food?"

"Watch whatever you want, (y/n)."

You turned on Netflix and turned on the show you were currently binging, then your belly grumbled, “I’m going to go fix some lunch, any requests?”

He looked at you hopefully, “Tacos?”

You thought for a moment and nodded, “Yes, I have everything to make tacos.”

You left the show on, you could rewatch the episode later, and went in to cook. You cooked some carne asada you had prepared for this week, some rice and beans, then prepared all the toppings you needed. Assembling Kylo's tacos were easy, he liked his tacos almost plain, just meat on the tortilla with some fresh pico de gallo. When everything was finished you fixed each of you a plate of your preferred tacos with some rice and beans then brought the plates to the living room. 

"Here you go, Kylo. Just as you like it."

He took the offered plate and began to eat, "Did you make all of this right now? This is amazing."

You nodded, "I did most of it. I had the carne asada marinating to fix this week, and the salsa I just made. The beans and rice are pre-packaged, but I try to make them myself too, when I have the time. And the tortillas I buy fresh from a neighbor."

He hummed, "Well this is all delicious. Thank you so much."

You smiled and ate your meal. When you finished you took your plate into wash along with all the items you cooked with once you stored the leftover food.

After a moment Kylo sheepishly walked in with his plate, "Excuse me, (y/n)? Is there anymore?"

You turned to look at him, "Yeah! I just put it away in the fridge. Help yourself."

Kylo took out the containers and fixed himself more tacos, then stood at the counter to eat them while talking with you. "Where did you learn to cook like that?"

"Mostly self taught. I had to learn how to stretch my food budget when I moved out. Cooking from bulk purchases helps. So I had to learn how to use the same ingredients in as many ways as possible so I wouldn't get bored."

He handed you his now empty plate, "Can you be my personal chef and my PA?"

You laughed, "You don't want to see me 24/7 Kylo."

He walked out of the kitchen, "Maybe I do."

You just shook your head and finished washing everything. When you walked back into your living room, Kylo was passed out on your couch. He looked so uncomfortable, he was almost bigger than the old thing. You went to your room, changed all your bedding, then hid all the embarrassing things you had out. 

You gently woke up Kylo once you finished, "Hey, go sleep in my bed. It is a lot more comfortable than this small thing."

He groaned and stretched, voice heavy with sleep, "No. That is your bed. You sleep in it. I'm fine here."

You crossed your arms, "No. Kylo. You are sleeping in my bed. I don't need to sleep right now anyways. You do. You've been working so hard recently. Go sleep in a damn bed."

He stood up and pat your head, clearly still mostly asleep, "Whatever you say, my dear. Goodnight."

Your cheeks burned and you just shook your head as you watched him shuffle into your room and unceremoniously flop face first onto your bed, snoring within moments. You went and shut the door most of the way, but first you placed his bags in plain sight in case he woke up and wanted to change out of his jeans. 

You worked around your apartment, not letting the fact you had an unplanned guest keep you from your planned chores. You swept and dusted, set your bedding on to wash, the one nice thing about this apartment, you had a washer and dryer in your unit. While the wash was on you sat down and restarted your show and went through your social media. One of your friends shared a tabloid article theorizing that Kylo Ren is in a secret relationship since he has yet to return home after landing earlier today and has spent a lot less time interacting with fans these past few months. 

You mumbled to yourself, “He’s staying away from you pricks. You’ve exhausted the poor man.”

You continued perusing, finding nothing else of interest, then paused your show before moving everything to the dryer. You continued watching until it was time to make dinner, pasta is what you had planned for tonight, so you doubled everything to have enough for Kylo.

As you were cooking you heard Kylo enter the kitchen, “Good evening, sleeping beauty. Are you hungry?”

Kylo was still a bit groggy, but rapidly waking up, “Yeah. The smells woke me up. What are you making?”

He sat at your kitchen table and you brought him a glass of orange juice, his favorite, “Pasta. Specifically homemade cheese tortellini with meat sauce. And garlic bread.”

He took a sip and hummed, “You make pasta?”

You nodded, “Only filled pasta, it is cheaper that way. And I made the sauce and garlic bread. Including the bread. But I freeze a lot of stuff so I didn’t actually make any of it tonight.”

He held up his glass, “And this juice?”

You laughed, “That is store bought. I can’t make it as well.”

“You’re lying. I’m sure you can.”

You hummed, “Yeah. I can. But only when oranges are in season.”

You turned back and began to stir the sauce and added the pasta to the now boiling water. You pulled out the garlic bread and shut off the flame for the sauce. After a few minutes you drained the pasta and added a bit of the water to the sauce, then added most of the sauce to the drained pasta.

"Alright, food is ready Kylo. Come help yourself."

"It smells amazing."

You handed him a plate and he served himself then sat back at the table. You followed suit and served yourself, then sat across from him. 

You shared pleasant conversation, taking turns asking about the other's life. While you worked for him, and were around him more often than not, neither of you knew much about the other, but this time together would change that. 

When he finished he looked up and smiled at you, "Now for a more personal question, if you want to answer it. Are you dating anyone?"

You smiled back and chuckled, "So asking about my parents and childhood isn't personal, but asking if I'm dating is?" You paused to take a sip, "No, Kylo. I'm not. Haven't dated in awhile. What about you then? There is a tabloid article out there theorizing you're in a secret relationship since you haven't come home yet and aren't interacting as much with fans."

He groaned and covered his face, "No. I'm not. Same as you, haven't in awhile." He rubbed his face and looked at you again, "And you know that tabloid is wrong. I'm here with you."

"But what about the fan interactions? Just the burn out?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I've really just wanted to go to bed recently, or get into work. They're great and all, but I don't want to be on at 7 am or 9 pm, especially if I just came from a different timezone."

"I can't even imagine. But you don't have to be on at all this week. Stay here for as much of that time as you want. Be Benjamin Solo again, if only for me."

His eyes lit up, "Yes. Call me Ben. Please. Only my mom and dad call me that anymore. I need to be Ben for a week. I'll order some plain clothes online to be delivered here too. I’m going to be Ben Solo again."

You nodded, "Okay, Ben. Let me clean up, and you can work on ordering everything you need. Then tell me when you're checking out and I'll fill out my address."

He stood up and grabbed both plates, "Let me help you please."

"Alright. You can help me Ben."

He grinned and had a tiny celebration, "Yes! Thank you."

He set to work filling up the sink with water, placing the plates and utensils in the sink, then turning to you, "Uhh, the leftovers need to be put away. Where are your containers?"

You moved to the right cabinet, "This one, Ben. But I'll put it away. You focus on washing."

He nodded, "Okay, (y/n)."

You put away the food and Ben grabbed each empty piece and cleaned it. Once the food was put away you sat up on your counter.

You looked to Ben, who was meticulously scrubbing the saucepan, "I had no problem cleaning up, Ky… I mean Ben. I do it all the time."

He turned to you, "I'm your unplanned guest. I want to do has much as possible to help and not throw off your schedule and routine. I'm sure you have one here too."

You looked away, feeling your cheeks warm a bit, "Well I do. But I'm fine doing it all myself."

He pointed a stern finger at you, but his face held a small smile, "No. I'm washing the dishes. Go relax. Put on a movie. Pour yourself some wine if you want, and have any. I'll be out in a bit."

You just nodded and listened, going to turn on some super cheesy rom-com your friend told you to watch. After a while you heard the sink draining and footsteps coming back out. 

Ben plopped down on the couch right next to you and outstretched his arms across the back, then groaned, "Really, (y/n)? You like rom-coms too?"

You paused it, "Shit, sorry. Wasn't thinking. I just think that they are funny, especially the real cheesy ones. And one can dream about randomly falling in love with a stranger. But I'll change it to something else."

Ben shook his head, "No, you can keep watching. I'll order those clothes."

You started playing the movie again and he pulled out his phone and wallet to find clothes with rush shipping. After twenty minutes he silently passed his phone to you and you typed in the address information then handed it back. Once the order was placed he put his phone away and again stretched his arms out. You didn't know if he was actually watching or just zoning out, but you were happy he didn't mind. 

As the credits rolled, you let out a yawn, “Alright, time for bed for me,” you tapped his thigh, “That means it is time for you to move, Mr. Solo. You’re on my bed.”

He turned to you, “No. I’ll sleep here.”

You grabbed his arm and stood up, “Nope, this is not an option. You are sleeping in my bed,” you began to pull on his arm, “Now come on you big oaf. You are going to sleep in my bed, just like you did earlier.”

He stayed planted in his spot, chuckling, “You’re gonna have to pull harder than that. I’m almost all muscles.”

You pulled harder and then tried to pull both his hands, starting to laugh, “Come on Ben. Go sleep in my damn bed.”

He stood up suddenly and caught you before you fell back, “Fine. Just this once.”

You crossed your arms, “This will be the second time, Ben. You slept before dinner.”

He smirked and walked away, into your room, “That was Kylo Ren, thank you very much. Now, do you need anything from in here before I close the door?”

You ran in, “Yes!”

He chuckled and just sat on your bed, pulling out his pajamas from his duffle bag. You grabbed everything you needed and went out.

You paused in the doorway, turning to Ben before closing the door, “Goodnight, Ben. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, (y/n). Thank you again.”

You nodded and closed the door then went to change and grab your bedding from the dryer. After setting everything up you crawled into your cocoon of blankets and pillows on the couch and fell asleep.

You were awoken a couple hours later by the sound of whining and screams, coming from your room. You quickly got up and knocked on the door, “Ben? You okay in there, sir?”

He didn’t respond, just more whimpers, so you opened up the door and walked in to find him asleep but thrashing.

Carefully, you approached him, reaching out to rub his arm, “Ben. Kylo. Wake up, sir. You’re having a nightmare.”

He woke up and clung to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He was panting, repeating your name, “I’m so sorry. So sorry. For waking you up. Sorry.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, “Ben. It is okay, Ben. I promise.”

He nodded and slowly calmed down, “Okay. Okay. Thank you. Thanks for waking me up. I normally have to fight for much longer to wake up.”

You softly scratched his scalp, “Lay back down. I’ll stay until you’re asleep again.”

He hummed, “Can you keep doing that, and playing with my hair?”

You chuckled, “Sure.”

He moved back to laying normally and you moved to keep petting his head. It didn’t take long for him to get drowsy again, and he began mumbling to you.

His voice was barely audible and clearly full of sleep, “I like this. I like you. Don’t tell though.”

You felt your cheeks warm and continued until his murmurs turned to snores. You got up again and softly kissed his forehead, “Goodnight, Ben Solo. Sweet dreams.”