#sorry this took forever I took a nap and then watched football for four hours

[doodleduck]

doodle req 4 michael? :3

A boy with his birds

[corvus--rex]

Another one that's been put down for a nap. I actually have the four planned chapters outlined, it just takes a particular head space to write. It's a 90's au, which means that there is period-typical homophobia involved. Our boys are musicians still in the town they grew up in. Note: they both smoke (I'm sorry), and there's a brief mention of underage sex (both are high school seniors).

@jilli-bean, this is more of the au my paragraph came from. I remembered you asked if I would tag you when I wrote more of it. Here it is so far!

~*~*~*~

~~*~~ present day – June, 1997 ~~*~~

“So, like, I guess he’s gay or whatever. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just, like, y’know?”

The voice belonged to a girl in a sundress talking to her two friends while walking by. Keith stayed where he was leaning against the side of the building and flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke in a sigh. Saying “there’s nothing wrong with that” was just the same as saying “no offense” and then being offensive. He’d lost patience for that phrase a long time ago. But even as done with it as he was, it was still better than getting kicked out of his last foster home three weeks before his eighteenth birthday after being outed by the family’s biological son.

The boys were the same age, and Keith’s foster brother Wyatt was upset at the time for Keith having better grades and, more importantly, attracting the attention of the girl Wyatt had a crush on. The ensuing fight over the girl led to Keith confessing his sexuality, and petty jealousy led to Wyatt telling his parents. His social worker was a godsend, and after a conversation with his best friend’s parents, Keith found himself moving in with them that night. The guest room became his permanently after that. He’d moved out into his own apartment with his best friend Lance McClain-Sandoval when he started college, but the McClain-Sandovals were one of the closest things to a real family he’d ever known. That first night felt like coming home for a second time, and the midnight conversation they had while lying on Lance’s bedroom floor would be forever burned into memory.

~~*~~ October, 1991 ~~*~~

They were supposed to be in bed already. The next day was a school day and both boys knew that Mariana would have their asses if she knew they were still up, but they didn’t care. Lance knew how bad Keith’s foster family was and had nearly crushed his mother in a hug when she got off the phone with Keith’s social worker. He had been the one to pick Keith up from his social worker’s office. And he’d been the one to drive to the Jacksons’ house with him to retrieve everything Keith had left behind. They found it all boxed up on the front step with a note reminding him that they just couldn’t have “someone like him” in their home and around their children. Keith, and Lance, took great pleasure in watching that note go up in flames in the fire pit in Lance’s backyard.

Keith had been fostered in the same large town of Arus for the last three years, and he and Lance had been friends since the first day Keith transferred to Arus High School only two months after the beginning of their freshman year. They had come out to each other in the summer after sophomore year, both relieved that they wouldn’t lose their best friend. They were even more relieved when Lance’s parents Mariana and Diego told the boys that they would love them both no matter what, and that it was no one’s business who they loved. Now it was only one month into their senior year and life was changing again.

“Tomorrow’s gonna suck,” Keith sighed.

“Yeah, it probably will. Wyatt’s an asshole and he’ll tell everyone. Probably starting with what’s-her-tits and blowing any chance he has with her,” Lance agreed.

Keith couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Michelle? Yeah, little fucker never had a chance with her to begin with. She’s been banging Chris Proctor all summer. Won’t shut the fuck up about it, even when she’s hitting on me.”

That made Lance roll to face his best friend. “Wait, seriously? I thought she hated him. Something about basketball players not being as good as football players.”

Keith rolled onto his side. “Yeah, that’s what I’d heard, but I guess she doesn’t hate his dick.”

Lance snorted, but when he saw how the strings of fairy lights lit Keith’s face and the sparkle of laughter in his deep violet eyes, his breath caught. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was a bad idea. It had been only hours since Keith was kicked out of the Jackson house, and this wasn’t some summer sleepover spent fantasizing about the future. The crush he’d been nursing for his best friend burst into full bloom, and he couldn’t stop himself.

Noticing the change, Keith’s brows furrowed. “Lance? What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head, “You’re beautiful, y’know that? I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.”

Keith’s expression softened. Lance confessing to feeling something more than just being best friends made a warmth settle into his bones. He’d thought his own crush would go unrequited forever and had begun to adjust into the idea that they would remain best friends and nothing more. Lance had just given him hope, and he wasn’t going to let the moment pass.

“Yeah? So are you. I thought I wouldn’t ever get to say it. But if we’re confessing…”

Impulse overrode higher thought, and Lance found himself inches away Keith’s face before he realized what happened. “Can I?” he asked in a soft whisper.

“Whenever you want,” Keith answered just as quietly.

Their first kiss was soft, gentle. It carried the relief of finally knowing how the other felt, and the promise of exploring those feelings. It was hesitant, nervous. It felt as though they were both worried that it was nothing more than a dream and that they’d wake up sore from falling asleep on Lance’s bedroom floor. But the very physical sensation of touch – Lance’s fingers threaded through soft black hair, the light touch of his thumb across high cheekbones, Keith’s hand sliding up soft t-shirt fabric, gripping the lean, compact muscle – it reminded them that they were very much awake, and that their kiss was very much real. When they separated, Lance pulled them back down, Keith nuzzling into his neck.

“I never thought kissing my best friend was something I’d ever do,” Lance said, basking in the afterglow of their kiss and the feeling of Keith in his arms.

“Mm, maybe not, but what about a boyfriend?” Keith asked, delicate fingertips tracing patterns into the t-shirt he had been holding so desperately only moments before.

“Yeah, I could get used to that.”

~~*~~ present day – June, 1997 ~~*~~

Keith was so lost in the memory of his first kiss with Lance he didn’t notice he was no longer alone until there was an arm on his shoulder and the cigarette was gone from his hand. He startled, then realized it was Lance. Keith was well aware how much Lance loved his leather jacket rocker look. It went well with the core of his music taste – a little punk, a little grunge, a splash of metal, a healthy dose of rock. He didn’t look it, but Lance’s tastes ran pretty much the same; it was one of the things they became friends over. But as much as Lance loved Keith’s daily wardrobe, Keith loved Lance’s more casual outfits, almost always topped off with the denim jacket whose back panel he had painted with a dragon and phoenix before gifting it to his boyfriend for his 18th birthday.

“Fucking hell, don’t do that!” he hissed. “Also, excuse you, that was mine.”

Lance just laughed through the smoke. “What, you worried about germs? We do a lot more than just swap spit, babe.”

Keith heaved a sigh, shaking his head at his boyfriend. “Yeah. I know that, and you know that, but I don’t think all of Arus needs to know that.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ve figured it out by now. I’m not exactly subtle, and almost the whole town knows about you after senior year of high school.”

“Fuck I still hate that asswipe. Ok, I’m done talking about him. You, me, Mario Kart, and the six-pack in the fridge.”

Lance crushed the cigarette butt under his sneaker. “Ooh, Mario Kart and pizza night. I still need to beat your ass at Rainbow Road.”

“Not gonna happen,” Keith threw over his shoulder as he walked away. He took off running when Lance gave chase, barely beating him to the truck.

As much as Keith’s true passions lay in art and music, he was also a skilled mechanic thanks to his foster father Carlos. He’d been with the Villalobos family for two years before a family emergency meant that they had to leave California for their parents’ native Mexico. If there was any other family that had felt like home, it was theirs. Carlos and Pilar treated him like one of their own children, and Keith got along with Daniela and Alejandro (Alex to his friends) like real siblings. They were back in California now, and he’d been able to reconnect with them and fill them in on what had happened with the Jacksons and how it had ended well despite them. After hearing about what had happened after they left, Carlos and Pilar had immediately called Lance’s parents, and now the two couples were good friends, the Villalobos slipping seamlessly back into Keith's life.

Keith had worked his way through college, and kept him working currently, thanks to the skills Carlos taught him. It was also those skills that got him his second most prized possession, the first being his his guitars. Keith had been working when the truck’s first and only owner brought it in on the back of a tow truck. He had bought it new, but the transmission on the ’94 Toyota Pickup blew out, and it wasn’t worth fixing. Keith said that it was a total waste of an otherwise solid pickup, and the owner told him that he could keep it if he promised to fully repair it. Six months of working on it in his spare time, and Keith had a rebuilt transmission and a fully working Garnet Red Pearl, extended cab Toyota Pickup.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: Man’s Best Friend

Intro: The Rogers bid a sad goodbye to a member of their family…

Warnings: Pet death- sorry, I know!!

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was a one shot I started writing a while back when I had to say goodbye to my horse, Cap, and I forgot about it until I was sifting through my files today. It as therapeutic for me to write, and I promise it has a happy end. Hope you all enjoy still reading about my favourite duo as much as I still enjoy writing for them.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

  It’s a well held opinion that dogs don’t live as long as people because they don’t need to. People need to learn how to be good and kind as life moves on. Dogs are simply born that way…

November 2028

“Steve?” Bucky asked, watching Rori as she lay on the rug in the living room, her legs bent in the air behind her, crossed at the ankle as they swung to and fro. “Why does Rori have odd socks on? Thought it set your teeth on edge?”

“It does.” Steve rolled his eyes from where he sat on the sofa, eyes glued to the Giants game that was on the screen. “But you try getting her to change them.” “She’ll do anything for her Uncle Buck.” Bucky smirked and Steve turned to look at him, grinning.

“Go on then.” He watched, smirk on his face as he knew full well where this was gonna go.

“Hey, Rori.” Bucky spoke. The four year old turned her head to look at him with a questioning glance.

“How ‘bout you go change your socks, find two yellow ones.” “How ‘bout no?” She replied, turning back to her activity book.

“Rori.” Steve spoke sternly at her cheeky reply and her eyes turned to her father. She looked at him, completely unabashed, shrugging with an air that was so goddamned like her mother before she continued what she was doing, clearly no shits given whatsoever.

Steve looked at Bucky, an I-told-you-so smirk sliding on his face as he turned back to the game, beer bottle held in his hand. At that point Jamie came into the room, flopping down on his bean bag which was next to the sofa.

“Who’s winning?” he asked, glancing at the large TV.

“The Pats.” Steve wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Gross.” Jamie agreed.” What are we getting for dinner?” “Jay, you ate like a whole pizza for lunch an hour ago.” Steve turned his eyes on him. “You can’t possibly be hungry.” Jamie shrugged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ve no idea. If you’re that bad go grab a snack or something.” Jamie pushed himself off the sofa and Rori jumped up toddling after him. “Wait for me!” She called.

Bucky watched them go and turned to Steve with a grin. “Gotta hand it to you pal, you got this father thing down to a tee.” Steve looked at him, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You being sarcastic?”

“Not at all.” Bucky shook his head. “I mean they leave you in peace to watch football, get their own snacks…” At that point there came a piercing scream through the baby monitor signalling that Harry had awoken from his nap.

“You hadda curse it didn’t ya?” Steve sighed, looking at Bucky. Bucky simply smirked as Steve pushed himself up off the sofa and took the stairs two at a time, stepping over Lucky who was sprawled on the larger corner step as the staircase doglegged to the right. He entered his youngest son’s bedroom, to see the tot clutching the bars of his crib, tears pouring down his face.

“Hey, Pal.” He said softly, and Harry’s face split into a watery grin at the sight of his dad. “What’s all the cryin’ for, huh?”

“Dadadadadada” He babbled, holding his hands up and Steve smiled as he lifted him out of the crib.

“Yeah, all those tears are really not necessary.” He pressed a kiss to Harry’s head as he leaned over for his pacifier which was discarded by his blanket. Handing it to him, Harry shoved it in his mouth and wound his little hands into his Dad’s T-shirt, pressing his teary face into Steve’s neck. Steve smoothed his hair back and grabbed his precious stuffed giraffe, a gift from Clint who had sent it when the tot had been born, before making his way out of the room, all tears now done, his son silent in his arms.

It would take Harry a while to come round, Steve knew that. Jamie and Rori had been the same at this age, clingy through disorientation when they woke up, but Harry even more so than his siblings. He had a feeling it was because Katie babied him a lot more than she had with Jamie and Rori, for no other reason than they knew he was their last, and she wanted to cling onto him being that cuddly little boy for as long as she could. She’d been heartbroken when Jamie had no longer cried for her anymore at night and had started refusing her cuddles and stopped sitting on her knee. Thankfully, Rori was still at the stage where she was happy to do that but again, give it a few years and she wouldn’t be.

He headed back down the stairs, stepping over Lucky once more who hadn’t moved a muscle all day it seemed. Steve gave him a glance and said his name, the dog lazily thumping his tail against the floor but beyond that he showed no signs of life. He’d noticed the dog slowing down dramatically over the last year or so. His walks had become shorter and shorter, now they literally consisted of a potter to the top of the street so he could pee against the lamppost and then back again, most of his time was spent in the back garden or the step he was on now, simply sleeping, or at night on Jamie’s bed. His eyesight was going too, but on their last trip to the vets a few months ago, they had been told that for his age there was nothing wrong. He was simply old. And Steve could sympathise. At almost seventeen Jamie had relayed the message that meant Lucky was ninety in dog years, so as far as he and Katie were concerned, the dog had earned his right to be lazy.

When they walked back into the living room, Harry looked up and gave Bucky the once over. Bucky waggled his metal fingers at him, and the tot moved the hand that was tangling in Steve’s t-shirt to mimic the action, making the former assassin chuckle slightly as Steve sat back down, his son getting comfortably on his lap. As his blue eyes looked around the room, Bucky watched the tot with a little amusement. Whilst Jamie was a carbon copy of his father both in looks and personality bar the distinctly Stark-like nose he had, Aurora was the double of her mother in the same way but had inherited her father’s cheekbones, yet Harry was almost a perfect blend of the two of them. He had the light brown hair, freckles and nose from his mother yet the blue eyes, cheekbones, ears and jawline from Steve.  He seemed to be a lot more placid that his elder brother, but then again there was time yet. He was stubborn, which Steve insisted he got from his mother, but both Bucky and Katie reminded him regularly that he was just as obstinate as she was, if not more so on some occasions.

Jamie and Rori returned and they sat and watched the game, both men and eight year old fully invested in it, getting annoyed as the Giants made mistake after mistake. At one point, Jamie let out an angry snort and rolled his eyes turning to his father asking why they were playing like garbage. Steve had no response, other than to shrug and comment that it must simply be a bad day at the office…and then, no sooner had he said it, they broke and made a run for the line.

Both Steve and Bucky jumped up, Harry in Steve’s arms now fully awake, and when they hit the touchdown Steve let out a loud cheer, and Harry mimicked him, grinning and clapping. Jamie did some kind of running man dance that Sam had taught him and then dabbed, just like Bruce had shown him how to do years ago. Harry watched before he moved his arms and did the same. Steve laughed.

“Jamie, do that again.”

Jamie turned and repeated the notion, Harry following again, causing Jamie and Steve to crack into identical grins.

“I leave you alone for a few hours.” A voice quipped and Steve spun round to see Katie stood in the doorway, back from the salon with her hair perfectly styled, arms folded, grin on her face. At the sight of his momma, Harry shrieked and wriggled in Steve’s arms. Steve set him down on the floor and he toddled towards her. Smiling she met him halfway and swung him up, peppering kisses all over his face, causing the tot to giggle.

“Your hair looks nice, Doll Face.” Bucky commented and Steve shot him a look, fuming that his friend had beaten him to compliment his girl.

“Kiss ass.”

Katie laughed as Bucky grinned innocently. “Thanks Buck.” She glanced around the room. “No Sam?”

“Gone to see his sister.” Steve dropped a kiss to her cheek as she moved to sit down on the couch. “Your hair does look good.”

She smiled at him, Harry winding his hands into the soft curls, the ends slightly lighter than the rest. “Won’t do for long if he keeps playing with it.” She looked around the room and frowned “Where’s Lucky?”

“On his step” Steve flopped down besides her. “Hasn’t moved since you left. I’ll take him up the road when the game’s finished”

“I’ll do it.”  Katie shook her head. “I’ll take Harry, give him a chance to toddle outside for a bit. Fancy it, baby? Wanna take Lucky for a walk?”

Harry clapped his hands “Uck uck!”

“You wanna come, Jamie?” She asked. He shook his head from where he was lounging on a bean bag, eyes glued to the game. “Rori?”

Rori took a bit longer to consider before she also shook her head.

“Suit yourselves.” Katie stood up. She took Harry into the hallway and retrieved his coat, scarf and hat from the pegs before bundling him up and slipping on his boots. Once he was ready she wrapped herself up and then called Lucky down, jangling his leash. The dog padded down the stairs and sat obediently whilst she clipped it on and they headed outside.

It was a slow walk, Harry still unsteady on his feet but he chattered away, his speech was taking shape much faster than his siblings had, the three of them stopping every so often so Lucky could sniff at something. As they reached his preferred lamppost, at the end of their road, Lucky went to cock his leg but to Katie’s horror he wobbled and collapsed onto his side.

“Shit.” She muttered. Dropping gently to her knees she stroked the dog’s head and looked him over, noticing his breathing had become a little shallow.

“Ucky ‘leepy.” Harry nodded where he stood by his momma.

“Yeah, sleepy.” Katie took a deep breath and pulled out her phone to call Steve.

“Hey?” His confused voice answered “You ok?”

“Lucky’s collapsed.” She swallowed, fighting back her tears. “At the end of the road.” “Okay, wait there…” Steve cut the call and less than a minute later Katie looked up at the sound of feet slapping on the damp sidewalk to see him sprinting towards them, not even having bothered to put a jacket on.

He dropped down beside her and took a second to look at their dog before he glanced at Katie, the pair of them sharing worried and sad expressions.

“Let’s get him to the Vet.” Steve said, as Katie wiped the tears off her face. He gently and easily scooped the retriever into his arms as Katie picked up Harry and they quickly made their way home.

**** They left the two youngest with Bucky, Jamie insisting on coming with them. At eight years old he was clever enough to understand what was going on, and as Katie pointed out to Steve, it was only fair he came with them for what the adults both knew deep down was going to be Lucky’s last trip.

Jamie sat on the back seat, Lucky’s head in his lap, softly talking to the dog as Steve drove through streets to the local vet surgery. He glanced in the mirror at his son, then over to Katie who was biting her thumbnail, her knee jerking nervously. He took her left hand in his and gently pressed a kiss to her knuckles and she kept hold of his fingers until he had to gently untangle his hand from hers as he pulled the car into a space.

Katie went into the surgery whilst Steve stayed with Jamie, the young boy eventually breaking the silence.

“Is he gonna die, Dad?”

Steve felt his chest tighten as he debated how to answer. He never lied to his kids as much as could be helped so with a sigh he turned to face Jamie who was sat in the back, his eye full of fear.

“Jay, he’s an old dog. I think he might be ready to go, yeah.” Jamie bowed his head, sniffing a little, and at that point the passenger side door opened and Katie popped her head in.

“They can see us now.”

Steve nodded and climbed out, before he lifted Lucky into his arms. Jamie slipped his hand into Katie’s as they walked into the surgery and were ushered into a quiet examination room at the back.

The Vet, a short, grey haired man called John Mason smiled at them as he walked in, his round spectacles perched on his nose. He greeted them kindly as Katie explained what had happened and he gently gave the dog an examination, and Katie had to stifle the sob as even then Lucky was feebly wagging his tail.

“I’m so sorry.” The Vet looked at Katie and Steve sympathetically as he sighed. “As I told you the other month, Lucky is a very old dog. I could try some pain killers and maybe a vitamin supplement but you’re just going to be delaying the inevitable.” Katie pinched her nose and bowed her head, tears filling her eyes. “We won’t want him to be in any pain.” Steve slid his arm round her as Jamie’s hand tightened around her fingers as he squeezed, sniffing loudly.

“Mom, I don’t want him to die.” She looked down to see her eldest son crying and she crouched down so she was level with him suddenly struck with the fact that in another few years she probably wouldn’t need to do that.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” She sniffed, her tears trickling down her face. “If I could fix him I could, but there’s nothing we can do. I think we need to let him go to sleep.” She glanced up at Steve, her soldier’s eyes were also filled with tears as he too crouched down to look Jamie in the eye. “Your mom’s right, buddy. He’s a very old dog. And we don’t want to see him in any more pain do we?”

Jamie shook his head, wiping his face with his hands. “But he’s my dog. My best friend.” “I know.” Katie sniffed, her lip trembling “But you’ll always have memories, and we can bring him home and bury him by his tree.” “The pee tree?” Jamie sniffed, and Steve gave a little chuckle.

“The pee tree.” He nodded.

Jamie looked up at the vet as his parents stood up at either side of him, Steve’s hand resting on the top of his head. “Will it hurt him?”

“No.” The Vet shook his head. “I’ll give him an injection first that will put him to sleep and then the second one will stop his heart. It will be very fast, he won’t feel a thing.” Katie glanced down and could see Jamie was contemplating something before he looked at her “Can we stay with him? He’ll be scared if we don’t.” “Of course we can.” Katie nodded.

The Vet glanced at her then to Steve who gave him a small nod of permission and Mason straightened up. “I’ll give you a few minutes with him whilst I go and get everything prepped.” The door clicked shut behind him and Jamie tugged on Steve’s arm. “Can you lift me up?”

Steve nodded and gently swung Jamie up onto the bench where he shuffled and gently lifted Lucky’s head into his lap. The dog’s tail began to thump again and that was when Katie turned away, her sobs silent. Steve gently reached out to her and she pressed her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking.

Steve was devastated too. That dog had seen so much with them since he had found him at Clint’s after the snap. He’d seen Emmy come and live with them, grow up, she’d wiped her tears into his fur the first time Peter had finished with her, then the second time. He’d seen the birth of all three of the younger kids, and had been curious at the small, noisy human that had been Jamie when they had brought him home, fast becoming the boy’s self-appointed guardian, taking up sentinel position outside his room whilst he had been young, and then moved himself into the room once he had been older. He’d put up with Rori covering him in pink glitter, been an expert at stealing toast off plates if you weren’t looking and both he and Katie had enjoyed his company later at night when he used to sidle up next to them on the couch or outside on the decking as they spent their evenings together. Up until about two years ago he’d been Steve’s running companion, one that he had missed a lot when he pounded the streets of Brooklyn and he knew that Katie talked to the dog as well when she was cooking and he was hovering, waiting for scraps. Steve had also sketched the dog, more times than he cared to remember, one of the best drawings he had done of him sat with Jamie on the kitchen step adorned Jamie’s wall in a frame above his bed and another one of him and all of the kids in the garden was displayed on the sideboard in the Den.

There was no doubt about it, losing him was going to leave a huge, Lucky shaped hole in their lives.

Steve looked at Jamie and tuned in to hear his son assuring the dog that he would be ok, and that he wouldn’t hurt, but it was when he told him to say hi to his Uncle Nee and Auntie Nat-Nat that he felt Katie give a choked sob and he wrapped his arms further around his wife, his own tear falling into her hair.

The Vet returned a little while later and Jamie made to move but he stopped him.

“You can stay there.” He said kindly. “Lucky seems nice and calm.” Jamie nodded, watching as the Vet gently prepared Lucky’s leg to find a vein and inserted the first needle, explaining what was going on.

“He’s going to fall asleep now.” He said, removing the needle and Katie moved from Steve’s hold to press face into the dog’s fur behind his neck, just as Steve had seen her do so many times before when she’d either been upset or just in the mood for a cuddle.

“Sweet dreams, puppy.” She said softly, standing up, and smoothing his fur down as Steve reached out and scratched the dogs’ ears.

“Miss you, buddy.” He sniffed slightly as the Vet injected the next drug. Jamie began to cry softly as he bent his head, Lucky’s breathing eventually stopping.

“Do you want to take his collar?” The vet asked gently as Jamie continued to stroke his beloved dog’s head and Katie looked at him.

“Jamie?”

He sniffed and nodded, and Steve moved forward, gently undoing the blue leather collar that was studded with metal bones from around his neck, Lucky’s name tag glinting in the light.

*****

December 2028

Steve opened the trunk to the car as Jamie walked round to join him, grabbing the dog basket that contained the freshly washed blankets.

“You got it?” Steve looked at him as Jamie easily lifted the item, another trait he had inherited from his dad, strength.

“Yeah.” Jamie assured him as Steve lifted the two large bags of dog food they had swung by the store for onto his shoulder and shut the trunk. Together they trudged through the light dusting of snow into the animal shelter and Steve pushed the door open. The receptionist looked up and smiled at them.

“We have some donations.” Steve smiled at her, dropping the bags onto the floor.

“And there’s this too.” Jamie offered, “Our dog died last month and he would want other dogs to have these.”

The receptionist came out from the desk and glanced at the basket, blankets and various toys which didn’t contain the rope tug chew that Lucky had been so attached to. That had stayed home and was going to be nailed to the tree they’d buried his ashes under.

“Sorry to hear about your dog.”  She gave a soft smile. “Was he old?”

“Seventeen.” Jamie nodded, sniffing slightly. “He was my best friend.”

Steve dropped a hand to his son’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze as Jamie wiped his face. He knew his eldest son was still grieving. All of them were. Emmy had been distraught when they had called her at University to break the news and Clint had also been a little upset when Katie had spoken to him, the archer thanking them for giving him such a good home for the past ten years. Their faithful dog’s collar now rest next to a photo of him in the hallway and a few times over the last four weeks Steve had silently observed Jamie simply holding it, for a few moments, before he would place it back down and Steve had hastily made his retreat so his son never knew his dad had been intruding on his moments of grief and remembrance.

They’d left all the decisions about what to do with the rest of his things to Jamie, who had announced the previous day that he was ready to give Lucky’s basket and toys away and both he and Katie had been so upset but so proud of their boy when he said he wanted to take it to the local shelter along with some food in Lucky’s memory.

“We’ll make good use of them.” The receptionist assured him. Jamie nodded and looked up at Steve.

“Can we go now?”

“Sure buddy, come one.” Steve gave the receptionist another smile before he steered the boy towards the door. As they walked, Jamie casually glanced up at the board on the wall which contained photos of the animals ready for adoption and stopped dead.

“Dad,” he said, pointing, “look!”

Steve followed his hand and scanned the board. “Jamie, what…”

“The one in the middle,” he urged gently, “look at his name.”

Steve scanned the adverts when he spotted the one Jamie was talking about.  It was a white and tan dog with a huge bushy tail and pointy ears. The dog’s large brown eyes wore an expression that was worried and scared, which wasn’t surprising considering he was in a rescue, and as he looked at the details learning the dog was approximately five years old and had been picked up as a stray, he read the name and his eyes widened.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He gave a low chuckle.

Jamie looked at him. “Can we see him?”

“Jamie…”

“I just want to see him,” his son said desperately, “that name!”

Steve glanced down at Jamie again who was wearing a look of hope on his face and he signed. “Fine, okay, we can see him. But just looking, okay?”

Famous last words.

It was a well-worn joke in the Rogers house hold that whilst Dad was the one that dished out the worst telling’s off when mum told him they’d been misbehaving and weren’t listening to her, he was also the pushover, the one who the kids went to first if they wanted something. So now, it was no surprise that Jamie turned all of his best pleading and reasoning on his father as he looked up at him from where he was crouched petting the dog, whose tail was wagging furiously as he licked the young boy’s face.

“Please dad!”  Jamie looked at him. “Lucky sent him to us, he has to have done…”

“We can’t just take another dog home, not without asking your mom.” Steve shook his head

“Why not? She does stuff all the time that you tell her not to.”

Okay so that was true. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t talked about getting another dog, they’d agreed they’d wait until after Christmas though, and then come to the rescue as a family. But, as Steve looked at the dog, although he didn’t believe in fate, he had to admit the name was one hell of a coincidence. And when the volunteer who had taken them to see the dog had explained just why the dog was called that, well, he was struggling really to argue with Jamie about it being a sign.

Even though fate was a load of bullshit.

Steve took another look at his son. His young face was radiating utter joy, something that had been absent from his life since he’d lost his faithful companion. With a low groan, Steve turned to the volunteer.

“Hypothetically speaking, if we wanted to adopt him…”

“You need to fill out a form and we do a quick background check but, well, seeing as it’s his last day today there won’t  be a home check or anything so…” “His last day?” Jamie’s head snapped up.

“Yeah he’s been here four weeks. We don’t keep them longer than that.”

“What?” Jamie’s mouth dropped open “You mean you’ll kill him?”

“Jamie.” Steve sighed, and the woman took a deep breath.

“Yeah, we err, we don’t have the space or…”

Jamie turned his blue eyes on his father, as the death row inmate in question licked his rosy cheeks, his tail wagging furiously.

“Damned it.” Steve grumbled as he turned back to the woman. “Better show me the form then.” ***** “Honey?” Steve called as he, Jamie and mutt entered the hallway. “Don’t go mad.” “Mad?” Her voice called back, “What would I be…”

Katie stopped dead as the dog pattered into the kitchen, bushy tail raised as he looked around sniffing, Jamie still holding his leash. Harry gave a shriek of excitement from his chair.

Steve held his hands up, palms out “This was not my idea.” “It was his last day, mom.” Jamie looked up as Katie crouched to pet the dog, her mouth still hanging open. “They were gonna kill him and we saw his photo and then his name and…” “His name?” Katie asked, looking up, almost falling back as the dog jumped up, two paws on her chest as he licked her face, his tail wagging furiously. “Why, what’s his name?” Steve, picking Harry up out of his chair, glanced at Jamie who grinned and looked at his mom as he spoke “Stark.”

“What?” She whispered softly, looking at Jamie then to Steve. Steve nodded to confirm what his son was saying was true. “He’s called Stark?”

Steve nodded, setting Harry down on the floor watching as the tot headed over to the dog, Katie showing him how to pet him softly.  “The Wardens picked him up by that huge memorial-slash-murial of Tony near the park.” He informed her, softly. “Hence his name.” He watched as his wife’s eyes filled with tears and she stood up, hastily wiping her face. Steve reached out and rubbed her arm as she turned and moved back to where she had been chopping vegetables for dinner. Jamie stood up a little tentatively, looking at his dad before he glanced at his mother.

After a moments pause she spoke. “Suppose you best go show him your sister if he’s staying. She’s in the den.”

Jamie’s face split into a huge grin and he dropped the dogs leash and rushed over to his mom. “Thank you.” She turned to give him a hug, gently ruffling his hair before he took the dogs leash again and headed out of the room, Stark eagerly trotting by his side. Harry followed and Steve turned to Katie.

“You’re an asshole.��� She narrowed her eyes at him before she turned back to the vegetables and he laughed as he crossed the room, wrapping his arm around her from behind as he kissed her neck.

“I’m sorry but, well come on, tell me you would have left him there.”

She took a deep breath, but her silence told Steve all he needed to know.

“So now we have a son and a dog named after Tony and a daughter who shares his birthday.” she snorted. “He’ll be laughing his head off up there.” Steve chuckled and they both turned as their kids walked back into the room, followed by their new dog who was now sporting a pink and blue bandana round his neck.

“I don’t like the collar from the rescue.” Jamie shrugged, as Rori giggled.

“Stark looks pretty.”

“Why don’t you let him outside?” Steve asked. “So he can see the garden.”

Jamie nodded and opened the door, the dog hesitating slightly before he stepped out and down the patio, before letting out a huge bark and running onto the snow covered grass. He dropped and rolled onto his back, happily before he jumped up and walked over to Lucky’s Tree. He sniffed, and then as they watched he cocked his leg and peed straight up the side of the trunk.

With a huff Jamie grinned, his arms folded as he leaned against the door frame, his father doing the same slightly higher up. “Still the pee tree, Dad.” “Still the Pee tree.” Steve nodded, agreeing. Katie snorted at the ridiculous similarity between the two and shook her head slightly as she held Harry on her hip. “What do you think, pal?”

Harry laughed and clapped his hands. “Pee!”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and her attention turned to Steve who gave her a wink. “You’re still an asshole.”

“Language.” He shot back, as he moved over to where she was stood and whispered into her ear. “Make it up to you later pretty girl.”

There was something about the way he said that phrase that always sent shivers down her spine. He kissed the side of her neck again, before he headed out of the kitchen and Katie watched him go before she turned to look at Jamie and Rori who both shared a hi-five as Jamie whistled. Stark’s ears picked up and as he shouted to the dog he came bounding back over and into the kitchen, his tail wagging furiously before he dropped onto his back for a belly rub.

“I love him already!” Rori giggled and Jamie looked up at his mum, his eyes so like his fathers locked onto hers and he smiled.

“Love you, Momma.”

And if Steve hadn’t already won her over with his loaded promise a few moments ago, that would have done it there and then.

There was a lot of excitement over the new addition to the Rogers household, but eventually later that night they managed to get the three kids into bed, Jamie leaving his bedroom door open so that Stark could find where he felt more comfortable to sleep.

Later that night, Katie took a shower in the en-suite, and as she turned the water off she could hear Steve talking to someone or something. Assuming he was on the phone to Emmy, which wasn’t uncommon last thing at night, she opened the door and stopped dead. Stark was nestled next to Steve on the bed, his nose tucked under Steve’s as the super-soldier gently held the pup like he was one of their kids, softly cooing at him.

Katie gave a cough and he looked up at her sheepishly, shrugging.

“What can I say? I have a thing for Starks…”

N.B. Yes, the dog I had in my mind was Dodger, and I’m doing this shamelessly so that I can use photos of him and Chris because I’m a thirsty ho…

 ***Original Posting***

[thunderbirdcarebear]

Photo Shoot - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Visit to England

"Scott, are you done in that bathroom yet?" Alan said, hopping around outside. "You've been doing your hair in there for about half an hour now!"

"Alan, there are other bathrooms on this island, use one of them!" Scott shouted through the closed door.

"Yeah, but the others are all in use too!"

"Well, go dance outside someone else's!"

Alan left, grumbling.

Virgil sat in the kitchen with Tin-Tin with his sleeve rolled up. "How did you manage to cut your arm so deep just chasing Alan?"

"He knocked one of the pictures off the side and I tried to catch it, but ended up landing on a piece of glass instead."

"Oh." She continued to dab at his arm with a cotton bud. He winced a couple of times, as she pressed too hard. "Sorry. Why were you chasing him?"

"He stole one of my CD's and I wanted it back," he replied as she put a dressing over it.

"Right. Go on, go get yourself sorted, we're leaving soon."

He rolled his sleeve back down and smiled at her. "Thanks, Tin-Tin."

"Anytime, but not too often, I don't want to be forever patching you guys up."

John sat in his room reading an astronomy book when Jeff put his head round the door, knocking on the frame as he spoke. "Knock, knock! Can I come in please?"

John looked up and smiled. "Sure. What's up?"

"Are you nearly ready to go? We'll be leaving in ten minutes."

"I was ready ages ago. I've been waiting for someone to tell me what to do for most of that time."

"Oh, well, uh, good. Take your bag down to the plane then, son."

"Bag?"

"Yes. One of those things you pack when you're staying somewhere over night."

"Oh." He looked a little embarrassed.

"Don't tell me you haven't packed one."

"No one told me we were going over night! Gordon only said we were going to visit Penny."

Jeff shook his head, chuckling. "Typical Gordon. I told him specifically we were going over night and to tell you the same thing. Ok, you pack a bag then. You've got about 5 minutes now."

John pulled a face that displayed his embarrassment and his annoyance with Gordon and pulled the suitcase from under his bed.

Finally, they were all ready to go. Their suitcases had been loaded into the plane; the plane itself had been fuelled and had the maintenance checks performed.

On the runway beside the cockpit ladder, Scott and Virgil were arguing.

"Scott, I'm flying!" Virgil said, grinning with his hands on his hips.

"No, Virgil, I am!" Scott answered, in a similar pose. They were both leaned forwards, heads meeting in the middle.

"Scott, it's my turn!"

"No, it's not! It's mine! You missed your turn!"

"I didn't, Alan took my turn!"

While the two brothers playfully argued, Jeff wandered behind them and climbed into the pilot's seat. The boys stopped their arguing and turned as one to glare at their father. Jeff smiled down at them. They narrowed their eyes.

"Dad, it's my turn!" they said in unison then turned to face each other again. "No, it's not, it's mine!" They grinned. "Stop that!"

Jeff watched them from the pilot's seat, amused at their impeccable timing. "Just get in; we don't have time to argue."

They arrived in English airspace and the five boys leaned towards the window to look out and looked at the countryside of Foxleyheath, very close to where Penny lived. Jeff spotted her massive mansion and circled the plane round to land it in a field near the house.

Penny was outside waiting for them with her butler, Parker.

Jeff landed the plane and jumped from the cockpit. The five boys climbed down and stood together in front of the house. They'd been to many places, but never a British stately home.

"Wow!" Alan whispered. He stood looking up at the building, his head tilted back and his mouth open. Gordon looked about amazed, too. The three eldest glanced at each other and smiled discreetly. They snuck up behind the two youngest and pulled on their shoulders, making them topple over. They fell to the floor and lay there stunned, looking up at the others.

"What was that for?" Gordon asked, sitting up and rubbing his head.

"Because you didn't give me the full message and I nearly got left behind!" John responded.

"No, you didn't! They wouldn't have left you!" Gordon said.

"And why did you knock me down?" Alan asked.

"Dunno, didn't want you to feel we'd left you out!" Scott said and Virgil chuckled.

"Thanks!" Alan said, sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Virgil said. "Isn't he polite?" Scott, John and Virgil all laughed and wandered off.

Jeff looked up in time to see Alan and Gordon tumble to the floor. "Oh dear, I hope they behave themselves!" Jeff said, watching them nervously.

"I'm sure they will, Jeff. They just need a change of scenery. Maybe you should stay here for a little while after the photo has been taken. The island is all very well for hiding a secret organisation…"

Jeff looked at her, wide-eyed and threw a glance at Parker who was emptying the bags from the plane.

"It's alright; Parker is in this with me. He knows everything."

"But, Penny, he was a criminal!" Jeff said, the shock registering clearly in his voice.

"Jeff, please don't be so judgemental. I've found him to be very trustworthy."

Jeff seemed clearly uncomfortable about this new revelation, but shut his mouth and let her finish.

"As I was saying, Jeff, the island is all very well for hiding a secret organisation, but there's very little for the boys to do and explore there. They're restless, they need something to do."

Neither of them had noticed that Virgil had snuck over to the plane and had climbed on nor that he had started rummaged through the bags. He found what he was looking for, a clean, white football and jumped back out.

Jeff noticed him at this point and watched him curiously. Curiously, that was, until he saw them start a game of football between them. He smiled and turned back to Penny. She had seen them too. "How often do they play football on your island?"

"Not very, they keep kicking the ball into the sea and only Gordon's ever willing to go get it back so they stopped."

"Precisely my point. This change of scenery is already doing them-"

A loud crash made them both jump. Behind them, the ball had gone through one of the downstairs windows, shattering it.

Jeff stared at them opened mouthed, while they stood there, looking as surprised at their action as their father. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Penny. I'll pay for it to be mended."

Penny smiled. "Boys will be boys. No worries, Jeff. At least it wasn't stained-glass."

They left the scene of the accident and went inside. Out of her many rooms, Penny had put one aside for each of them and Parker was taking them on a tour round the house, stopping at the various rooms to put down their luggage and inform the relevant person that this would be their room for the next day or so.

Leading the way, Parker was at the head of the group with as many bags as he could possibly carry on and under his arms and in his hands. He stopped outside a door and Scott stepped forwards and opened it for him.

"Thank you, sir," Parker replied. "H'if you'll follow me, h'I'll show you your room."

Scott looked at Virgil who glanced back. They dropped behind the group.

"You know, some of these English accents and dialects are so hard to understand!"

Virgil tutted and shook his head.

"What?"

"You never change, do you, Scott?"

"What d'you mean by that?"

"I mean that you said a similar thing about Brains when he first arrived. You complained that you didn't fully understand his stuttering."

Scott opened his mouth to reply but no noise came out. He closed it again.

"You know, they probably think the same thing about us, so don't worry about it, just stop going on about it."

Scott grinned at his brother and was about to say something to respond when someone jumped in.

"Come on, you two, don't wanna get left behind or you'll be sleeping on the couch! Sightseeing later!" Gordon shouted.

Scott and Virgil exchanged glances then, after rolling their eyes, ran to catch up.

They had each been shown to a room now, all on one corridor as well. There were four rooms on either side of the corridor with stairs leading to the kitchen at one end. Down one side of the corridor were the rooms occupied by Scott, Virgil, John and Gordon and down the other side were the rooms occupied by Jeff, Brains, Tin-Tin and Alan.

Penny's room was on another corridor, quite a distance from her guests' rooms. 'Presumably,' Jeff thought, 'because she knows what this lot are like.'

He settled down on his bed, looking up at the ceiling then glancing round at the luxurious décor. He had a four poster bed with curtains running between each post, various portraits dotted round the room, and many, many expensive looking ornaments. He worried about this. With all the extra energy the boys had, he could see something else getting damaged.

He sighed then settled down for a nap, which he'd just realised he desperately needed after such a long flight with them in the plane!

Alan was in his room, exploring all the cupboards, drawers and anywhere else he could have possibly poked his nose into. He also took time to look at the impressive collection in his room. His curiosity was getting the better of him as he wandered round and he picked up a small model of a very old car and looked it over carefully.

"What are you looking at, Alan?" came Tin-Tin's voice from the doorway. He hadn't heard her come in and jumped, dropping the model on the floor. He cringed as pieces of it fell off on impact. He looked up at Tin-Tin who smiled. "What were you looking at, Alan?"

He smiled back. "A model of a car."

"Ah, no surprises there then." She looked at the pieces on the floor and walked over. She crouched down on the floor, picking up a piece or two and looking at them. She looked up at him and held out her hand. He looked at her, momentarily confused as to what she wanted. Then it dawned on him and he handed her the model. She turned it this way and that. "Shouldn't be too hard to fix. Come on, it's nearly dinner time."

She got up, putting the remnants of the model and the loose pieces back on the mantelpiece.

Alan grinned at her then linked his arm through hers and led her out.

Scott was in his room, dozing soundly on his bed. Soundly, that is, until Virgil wandered in. He opened the door silently and peered in. Scott was lying on his side, snoring. Virgil grinned then crossed the room. Kneeling down silently beside him, he leaned close then pulled something out of his pocket. He grinned again then put it in his mouth and blew hard, making the streamer attached straighten out.

A loud noise ensued making Scott wake with a start. He sat bolt upright staring straight ahead then turned and saw Virgil smirking at him with a curled up party blower in his mouth.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"It's nearly dinner time, come on, we gotta go downstairs."

Scott rolled his eyes. "And you couldn't have woken me by conventional means? Where'd you get that thing from anyway?"

"I kept it from Alan's last birthday. You know what he's like."

Scott knew all too well. The thought that the blower had something to do with Alan had crossed his mind due to the fact that Alan had once played a trick on him using a very similar item. He didn't like to think about that.

"Ok, ok, I'm coming. Just let me sort myself out."

"F.A.B." Virgil grinned widely. The phrase was new to them but they'd just got to grips with using it. Using it too often as Jeff had noticed. They seemed to say it whenever they would say all right, yes or ok. "I like that phrase."

"Mmm, I've noticed. You use it more than any of us and we haven't even started operations yet."

Virgil looked at him. "Hmm, I'll leave you now. You know you were right about having to sort yourself out first. Does someone drag you through a hedge while you're asleep?"

Scott looked up at him glaring, but Virgil had already left.

[junker-town]

NFL Dad, Week 6: Sorry, Aaron Rodgers. Have some birthday cake

Can one overwhelmed dad pull off a toddler birthday party in the morning and still watch six and a half hours of RedZone? That depends: Do naps count as watching football?

My daughter turns three this week, so we hosted her birthday party before the games kicked off. It was a confetti-themed party. There was confetti inside the balloons, over-sized beach balls with colorful spots, sprinkles on the cake, and more sprinkles at the cookie-decorating station.

Not that a theme matters to my daughter. She wants two things out of a birthday party: pizza and cake. Everything else is window dressing.

ME: Look sweetie, all of your best friends in the world are right here just to be with you!

HER: [shrug]

ME: Should I go pick up the pizza?

HER: PIZZA! PIZZA! PIZZA!

That said, the cookie decoration station was a big hit, and it bought the adults a long stretch of time where the kids are stationary and mostly quiet. This was a REVELATION. Ever since my wife gave birth twice in 19 months, I haven’t spoken to another adult at a kid’s birthday party for longer than 45 seconds.

But with the kids entertaining themselves? I had no fewer than five pleasant conversations with other parents that ended like normal human interactions, and not with me sprinting toward a crying child. I know every parent says, “It goes so fast!” and “I miss those days!” but I’m more than happy to floor it past the first two years of birthday parties.

We can stop time now, at age three, while Aaron Rodgers has two intact collarbones.

EARLY GAMES, FIRST HALF

— My picks this week for Team OddsShark in the SuperContest are as follows:

Lions +5 at Saints

Packers -3 at Vikings

Cardinals +2.5 versus Bucs

Chiefs -4.5 versus Steelers

Raiders -3.5 versus Chargers

At one point a few weeks ago, I said I was going to include my picks every week, but that was before I learned I could write a column with a word count to rival Peter King’s. So when my picks have been bad, they’ve been edited out (or never written at all). And they’ve been REALLY bad: I’m sitting at 12 points (out of a maximum 25) through five weeks. Woof.

UPDATE: 1-4 on the day! This section is hereby retired forever.

— The birthday party ends at 12:30 Eastern, but it takes a while to clean up, pack up, walk home, and start putting the kids down for their naps. By the time I turn the TV, the Jets lead the Patriots 7-0, and Aaron Rodgers has left the game with an injury to his throwing shoulder. Yeesh, Friday the 13th is really making a full weekend of it, huh?

— I’m counting on Lions-Saints to be a fantasy bonanza. I have what feels like every wide receiver from these teams in one league or another, and the conditions are ideal (bad defenses, Superdome) for a million points. Golden Tate’s opening touchdown HAS to be a harbinger of what’s to come.

I've seen better tackling in a Pee Wee game LOL Saints http://pic.twitter.com/YHTtBpFt9I

— Isaac (@WorldofIsaac) October 15, 2017

The one wide receiver on these teams I DON’T have is Tedd Ginn, who immediately scores a touchdown on what appears to be a crossing route (if I’m wrong, it’s because I’m watching my kids, not All-22). I refuse to let Ted Ginn be redeemed in the Saints’ offense. I don’t care how open he gets behind the defense, the only people he’s burned with any consistency is fantasy owners.

The only people Ted Ginn burns with any consistency are fantasy owners.

— After the Vikings intercept Brett Hundley, Jerick McKinnon scores on a screen pass to give Minnesota a 7-0 lead. I have zero faith that a greenhorn backup can rally the Packers on the road against one of the best defenses in the league. This one’s over.

— Josh McCown is now 11-of-15 passing with two touchdowns. The Jets lead 14-0. Twitter reacts wildly, as if they expect the Patriots to NOT come back and win this game comfortably. Yes, this is a bad Pats defense, but also — and more importantly — this is the Jets. New England’s gonna win this one.

— My son has been teething non-stop for the last six weeks or so, just rows and rows of new teeth like a shark. Before I had kids, I heard enough from parents to know, “Oh, teething is bad,” but I never knew just WHY it was bad. “Their mouth hurts, bummer” is what I’d think, then I’d go back to thinking about movies or sex or eating at a restaurant.

But no! The mouth pain is just one small aspect of the teething experience. When teeth are tearing through little toddler gums, the child doesn’t eat as well. He doesn’t sleep as well. But that’s fine, eating and sleeping are only THE TWO MOST IMPORTANT PARTS of keeping a child happy.

On top of that, although there’s no medical evidence for causation, teething is often accompanied by fever, a runny nose, and diarrhea. Runny noses can lead to ear infections, and frequent diarrhea can lead to diaper rash. So, instead of your usual happy child, you’ve got a tired, hungry monster whose various holes are in constant pain.

And the worst part is that you don’t even know he’s teething. You just spend several days being frustrated at your kid: “Why won’t this little jerk eat? Why’s he so grumpy?” And then three days later you see a new tooth poking through, and it’s like, “Ohhhhhhhh, NOW I get it.” Teething blows.

— Tarik Cohen throws a touchdown to Zach Miller on a halfback toss! There is now a viable argument that Cohen is the fourth-best quarterback in Bears history.

Running Back Tossing TD Alert! @_Twenty8_ to @ZMiller86 for SIX! #DaBears http://pic.twitter.com/MlyxkpaUr9

— NFL (@NFL) October 15, 2017

This is my all-time favorite play in Madden (NOTE: This is also why I was very bad at Madden).

— Like Golden Tate before him, Braxton Miller flips into end zone.

.@BraxtonMiller5 is flipping his way into the end zone! #Texans http://pic.twitter.com/huhWiO3YuZ

— NFL (@NFL) October 15, 2017

I’m happy for Braxton. It has to be hard to make it in the NFL with a lacrosse name.

— KIRK COUSINS FREE AGENCY SUPER-CONTRACT WATCH: Cousins, playing his future suitors from Santa Clara, throws an interception, which is overturned on replay. He then throws ANOTHER pick by air-mailing a deep ball into double coverage.

There are 49ers fans who are actually excited about the prospect of signing Cousins. To these people I can only say: Have you considered a sanitarium? Fresh air, no wi-fi, comfy robes. We can help, but you need to want to get better.

— Stephen Gostkowski misses a 47-yarder, and it looks like the Pats will go into halftime down 14-7 or worse ... until Josh McCown throws an INT. A quick bomb to Brandin Cooks sets the Pats up inside the Jets’ 5-yard line, and a Rob Gronkowski touchdown ties the game before the half.

Well, at least the Jets had that first quarter.

EARLY GAMES, SECOND HALF

— Besides the excitement of the party, my wife and I balanced parenting with three and a half hours of party prep (squatting at picnic tables, a trip to Party City); schlepped a a full party’s worth of food, drink, and decorations to the park; and weathered my daughter’s first bee sting. GOOD NEWS: She’s not allergic to bee stings! Helluva day to find out, though.

All of this is to say: You’re goddamn right I took a nap when the games went to halftime.

— When I wake up, the Pats lead 24-14. Order has been restored to the world.

— But the Falcons are … losing? At home? To the DOLPHINS?!!? But they were up 17-0 at the half! What in God’s name is going on here? And why are the Falcons rushing to get plays off? WHOA THERE’S ONLY A MINUTE LEFT! That was a good nap!

I know Falcons fans must be stressed the hell out about this two-minute drill, but this moment made me chuckle:

LOL http://pic.twitter.com/wPBYFHUWAC

— Steve Noah (@Steve_OS) October 15, 2017

Taylor Gabriel is just a speedy little football doll!

Then, with the Falcons in range of a game-tying field goal, Reshad Jones picks off Matt Ryan. The throw hit Austin Hooper in the hands, but his bobble provided Jones with all the opportunity he needed to end the game.

Wow. The Falcons were 11.5-point favorites at home, and they lost to Jay Cutler. Gonna have to fumigate the whole stadium after that one.

— We can tell my daughter has woken up from her nap when we hear a full-voiced “Happy birthday to youuuuu” coming from her room.

— The Ravens trail 24-13 at home, and they’re kicking a 50-yard field goal with three minutes left. What a limp way to run up the white flag.

A few minutes later, RedZone cuts back to the Ravens, who have gotten a spectacular punt return for a touchdown!

This is CLUTCH! #RavensFlock http://pic.twitter.com/1v9j6L9kdY

— NFL (@NFL) October 15, 2017

ALL PART OF JOHN HARBAUGH’S PLAN. You have to get the ball out of Joe Flacco’s hands and let the defense and special teams take over (The only other Ravens touchdown today came from a kickoff return).

The Ravens convert the two-point attempt to tie the game, and the Bears have 1:30 to take the lead back. With the game on the line, Mitchell Trubisky leads ... a three-and-out. Once again, we get an extra period of ham-fisted ding-dongs flailing at each other instead of sending them home with the tie they deserve. BAN OVERTIME.

— As the Packers lose in Minnesota, the news gets even worse: Aaron Rodgers has broken his right collarbone, just like my daughter earlier this season. She healed completely in four weeks, but Rodgers, being a slightly lesser athlete, may be done for the season. We go now to race for the NFC North division title:

PANDEMONIUM

— Every week I struggle to demarcate the endings of early games with the beginnings of late ones, so they get their own section this week. We’re gonna let this football estuary do its thing, trusting that time will separate the saltwater from the fresh.

— As my son wakes up from his nap, a Lions punt return for a touchdown cuts the Saints’ lead to 45-31. There are still 11 minutes left; this could be a game.

— In the span of about a minute, RedZone shows the following: The Rams returning the opening kickoff for a touchdown; Adrian Peterson’s first touchdown for the Cardinals; Leonard Fournette responding to the Rams’ score with a 75-yarder to the house; and the 49ers getting a late touchdown to put some heat on Washington. Scott Hanson is losing his mind.

— A’Shawn Robinson intercepts Drew Brees at goal line and walks it in for an easy touchdown. It’s now 45-38 with more than six minutes to play. I am desperate for the Lions to cover.

The girl can freehand a circle that rivals Giotto’s but still hasn’t learned to jump properly.

— My wife leaves with to walk our dog, taking our son in the stroller with her. My daughter stays at her kid-sized IKEA table, focused on drawing. She would draw or paint for five hours every day if we didn’t force her get up and attempt to develop gross motor skills. The girl can freehand a circle that rivals Giotto’s but still hasn’t learned to jump properly. We have some work to do.

— The Bears win! It was a field goal or something, I was putting some frozen chicken nuggets into the oven. There are two kind of frozen nuggs: pre-cooked, which take about 15 minutes to bake, and uncooked, which take 25-30 minutes. The uncooked ones (which is what we’re making today) ultimately taste better, but 25-30 minutes is a LONG time for kids. You really need to be ahead of the hunger curve to make these.

— In Jacksonville, it’s Jags 14, Rams 10 barely 8 minutes into the game. I’m gonna need this game to come down off PCP.

— The Lions have a disastrous muffed punt that nearly goes for a safety. Instead, they start a drive at their own one-yard line, and Matt Stafford promptly gets picked by Cam Robinson for the insta-six. It looks nearly identical to the play that brought them within a score. Now it’s 52-38, and while the score isn’t THAT surprising, these teams combining for FOUR defensive touchdowns certainly is.

In consecutive games, the Saints defense has produced a shutout and scored three touchdowns. I blame this on global warming.

LATE GAMES, FIRST HALF

— With the early games finally done, I’d like to celebrate the rarest of RedZone occasions: A good slate of late games! Chargers-Raiders is a great rivalry game despite the two teams’ records, Steelers-Chiefs is a battle of AFC heavyweights, and Rams-Jaguars is high on bath salts and running loose through the swamp. The lone clunker looks to be Bucs-Cardinals, where the Cardinals are already up 21-0. Larry Fitzgerald is doing that thing where he’s one of the greatest receivers who ever lived.

— My daughter runs into the room wearing a pink cape. She eats a tortilla chip that my son discarded on the couch. “I’m a superhero!” she says.

“What’s your superhero name?” I ask.

“HMMMMM.” She has obviously not done the groundwork on her origin story.

“Are you the Pink Crusader?”

“Yeah!” She runs out of the room, then runs back in. “I’m a superhero!”

“What’s your superhero name?” I ask again.

She yells, “The Pink Crusader!” Again, she runs out of the room.

She runs back in and stops in front of me. She casually leans an arm on the couch and says, “I’m the Pink Crusader.”

— After a Steelers safety and a Chiefs field goal make a baseball score, the Steelers score the first TD of the game by giving Kanas City an overwhelming dose of Peak Le’Veon Bell. The entire drive was Bell gently picking his way through traffic with his trademark hesitation-acceleration.

Now that I think about it, the late slate is bursting with my favorite running backs to watch — not just Bell, but Melvin Gordon, Marshawn Lynch, Leonard Fournette, and Todd Gurley. And while every news report from the last three years suggests that Adrian Peterson is an unrepentant egomaniacal shithead, his resurgence for the Cardinals adds to the overall effect (I’d still prefer a healthy David Johnson, though).

Ryan Fitzpatrick isn’t even the best Fitz in this game.

— Jameis Winston is doubtful to return with a shoulder injury. RYAN FITZPATRICK CLAIMS ANOTHER SCALP. Fitzmagic takes his first snap down 24-0 on the road in a game where he’s not even the best Fitz. My expectations are sufficiently tempered.

Soon enough, Fitzpatrick leads the Bucs on a respectable drive. On second-and-goal, he does one of his trademark moves: giving up on a play too early, running for it, and diving headfirst into defenders. On third-and-goal, well, let’s just call this unorthodox and leave it at that.

I got you Bill http://pic.twitter.com/yTkI0rtkQQ

— Cameron DaSilva (@camdasilva) October 15, 2017

And on fourth down, Patrick Peterson fights through a pick to break up a slant to Mike Evans. Still no score for the Bucs.

— I’m starving. I head to the kitchen to grab a slice of leftover pizza, then absentmindedly head back to the TV. Rookie mistake. My kids are in the middle of their non-pizza dinner, and they’ve witnessed the superior option.

“I want pizza! I want pizza!” my daughter says, and my poor wife has to explain that she already had pizza at her party today, and will have pizza again on her actual birthday this week. “You’re right, Mommy. That’s enough pizza for one week,” is not what my daughter says. It is the last thing any child would ever say.

— The Rams score on a blocked punt, their second special teams touchdown of the half, to head into the locker room up 24-14. Jags DC Todd Walsh DEFINITELY hates the other coordinators, right?

LATE GAMES, SECOND HALF

— Fitzpatrick’s first throw of the second half is an interception, and the Cardinals respond with a 4-play touchdown drive. Carson Palmer’s touchdown pass to John Brown is so hilariously underthrown that it fakes the defender out. The cornerback foolishly ran into the end zone as Brown tracked back to catch the ball floating down at the two-yard line.

— Bath time. My wife puts both kids in the bath, but when my son is done I leave the TV to help with my daughter. She says, “I’m the Little Mermaid!” (shakes fist) DISNEEEEYYYY!

“Well, the Little Mermaid has beautiful hair because she washes it all the time. We should probably shampoo your hair so it’s like hers,” I say, and she assents faster than she ever has to a hair-washing. Although now that I think about it, mermaid hair would have to be distinctly different from human hair to not be completely damaged by constant submersion in saltwater. The lies we tell our children.

When I finish washing her hair, she lays back in the tub to rinse, and I hold the back of her head to massage the shampoo out. Ringed by remnants of bubbles, her face has the beatific look of the precogs from Minority Report, and she makes up a song about a bear, singing it under her breath, so lightly I can’t follow whatever plot there is. It is a peaceful, unscripted moment that is filled with the kind of awe and love usually reserved for cathedrals. Best part of my day.

— After I dry her off and put her in pajamas, I come back to a virtually unchanged landscape of football: The Jaguars, Steelers, and Raiders are still holding on to single-digit leads, and the Bucs are still getting pantsed, though they ARE finally on the board.

— The Chiefs offense, humbled by the Pittsburgh defense most of the day, pieces together a drive by throwing to Kareem Hunt. But on 4th and 2 inside the Steelers’ five-yard line, Andy Reid, trailing 12-3, chooses to go for it instead of kicking the field goal. The pass is nearly picked off, and the Steelers get the ball.

Now, I am Mr. Go-For-It, a believer in advanced analytics and a member of the Cult of Barnwell. I would love to celebrate Reid’s boldness (process over outcome!), but I’m just not sure the risk was worth it.

— Here now is the Bortlest pair of plays possible: On second down, Blake Bortles is sacked and fumbles, but Jags are able to recover the ball. Then, on 3rd and 14, Bortles sails a pass over a wide receiver (who is well short of the sticks); the ball bounces off the receivers’ outstretched fingertips and into the hands of a defensive back for an interception. It’s all there in two plays: poor pocket awareness, bad decision-making, and costly inaccuracy.

I know the “They could have Colin Kaepernick on their team!” refrain is growing old, but for me it’s growing old because it’s EXHAUSTING to think about the success that mediocre teams could enjoy if they cared more about winning than not signing a guy whose activism offends the NFL’s ruling class.

— My wife is shrieking with laughter as my son blows raspberries on her legs. He’s been a relentless pain in the butt in the final hour before bed during this teething epoch, so I’m really only writing this so there’s some historical record of him being a sweet, funny kid.

— One of the Chiefs’s speedy playmakers finally steps up. Alex Smith scrambles and finds De’Anthony Thomas open on the left sideline, and the former Duck makes tacklers miss in space before flipping into the end zone. That’s the third one today!

Alex Smith extends the play... And @DATBLACKMOMBA13 takes care of business. 57-yard @Chiefs TOUCHDOWN! #ChiefsKingdom http://pic.twitter.com/lVmaGuCdJe

— NFL (@NFL) October 15, 2017

MANDATORY NOTE: This touchdown would have given the Chiefs the lead if they’d just kicked the dang field goal.

— Holy bananapants, this Antonio Brown touchdown on third-and-two:

Already the catch of the year from Antonio Brown @btsteelcurtain http://pic.twitter.com/tXDNfVrr06

— Clay Wendler (@ClayWendler) October 15, 2017

Your move, De’Anthony Thomas and/or Tyreek Hill. No? No equally jaw-dropping game-breaker? Very well, then: Steelers win.

— I put my kids to bed. Their hair smells like dreams.

— The Bucs are scoring a bunch of points, but it’s too little, far too late. I’m not going to legitimize this alleged comeback with details.

— The Raiders run a hook-and-lateral in their own territory on third-and-12 up two points. It doesn’t go horrifically, but it DOES fall short of the first down. The Raiders punt, back the Chargers up, then allow a game-winning field goal drive.

— As the games wrap up, my wife asks, “Why are we watching the NFL if Aaron Rodgers, J.J. Watt, and Odell Beckham aren’t in it?” It’s a great point, but also: WATCH IT, LADY. THIS COLUMN FEEDS OUR FAMILY.