#who expected that

[barlowstreet]

For the prompt: Kisses 1 (goodnight kisses)

Anon, you get almost 2000 words because uh. I dunno I guess I'm working through some stuff XD

(Reminder, I'm not currently taking more prompts at the moment, but here is the list if you would like to do some yourself.)

“Hey, Joel. What do you call the ghost of a chicken? ” Ellie asks.

Joel sighs.

“A poultry-geist!”

“Alright,” he says and turns off the room lights, leaving just the small light over her head. “I think that’s enough puns for the night.”

“No such thing,” Ellie says, but she hands him the pun book to put away.

He’s careful with it as he tucks it into her backpack. It’s worn already, the cover bent, but it’s one of the very few things she owned before he met her and he knows it’s precious to her. He’s only recently been trusted to touch it.

“Time to settle down for the night,” he says. “C’mon.”

Ellie shifts carefully on the mattress. “Will you braid my hair?”

“Of course.”

He braided it the first time after Silver Lake, after he had to wash blood and bone and brain matter out of it, when she was still practically catatonic. He was half on auto-pilot, just desperate for anything to make her feel even slightly better, and he knew the hair being on her neck would be driving her crazy, but her head hurt too much for a ponytail.

She doesn’t ask for it very often, and he’s not sure how often to offer, but he’s trying to offer more, now that she’s spending more time in bed and the ponytail gets uncomfortable.

It takes a bit to get her situated comfortably so he can braid her hair, but they manage. She showered right before dinner, so her hair is still a little damp. He’s always surprised by how long it takes to dry, probably because of how thick it is. She doesn’t really like sleeping on wet hair, so he’s not surprised she asked.

When it’s done, he helps her get settled again. “Sweater on or off?”

“On,” Ellie says.

He gives her a look. He always asks, but she rarely sleeps in one of the big sweatshirts she wears over her pajamas during the day. She doesn’t like sleeping in a lot of layers unless it’s in a sleeping bag.

She picks up her cup and looks in it. “I’m out of water.”

Joel has given her his own water when she ran out before him. He’s made her birch bark tea and pine needle tea and found an old Thermos so she could have warm drinks while they walked. He has held cups of water to her mouth when her hands shook too much to hold them herself.

Why the child acts like he’s liable to let her dehydrate all night, he’ll never know.

He gets her a fresh cup with plenty of ice — a novelty for her that she’s quickly come to enjoy — and sets it on the table next to her bed where she can reach it.

“If you could eat anything in the world right now, what would it be?” Ellie asks.

“Why don’t you ask me that tomorrow.”

“I would have tacos,” she says, ignoring him. “I’ve never had them but I’ve seen pictures and I think I’d like them.”

He bets she would, too. But he also recognizes a stalling tactic for what it is. “Ellie. It’s late. You need to sleep.”

She looks away. “I don’t… I don’t think I can.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“My hip hurts too much.”

He holds back a sigh. She’s so damned stubborn. It’s been three days since a bone marrow extract and he knew she was still hurting, but she wouldn’t admit it.

“I’ll go grab a nurse and get you some painkillers.”

Ellie grabs his arm. “No, don’t.”

“Ellie…”

“They make me feel weird.”

“I know.” He runs a palm over her head and leaves it to rest on her back for a moment. She leans into the touch, seemingly without noticing. “How about we make a deal, you and me?”

She perks up slightly. “What?”

“You tell me every single thing that is bothering you besides the hip and I’ll see what I can do about it. And if after all that, you’re still too uncomfortable to sleep, then we do some pain meds.”

She thinks about it for a moment, and he gives her time. She has so little control in all this shit. He tries to give her as many choices as he can, while making sure the Fireflies are very aware she’s an almost-fifteen-year-old and they should remember to treat her as one.

“Okay,” she agrees.

Apparently there’s a lot she’s been sitting on. First, something he didn’t expect, is that she’s hungry. Her appetite has been horrible from the meds and the stress. Every meal for weeks has been frustrating for them both. He immediately makes a mental note to see about offering her a snack at this time every day.

Her sheets are bothering her, so he helps her move over to the recliner and gets her half a sandwich to eat while he changes them. That also means she gets to make fun of his sad attempt at military corners, something she knows how to do with an ease that he pretends doesn’t disturb him.

Then it’s back to the bathroom to brush her teeth because she says she absolutely won’t be able to sleep with tuna breath. Fair enough, he supposes. Personally, if he never ate another can of FEDRA processed tuna at all, he’d be happy, but fish is easier for her than other meats.

And apparently she doesn’t actually like the pajama top she’s wearing — there’s a seam on the side that bothers her, she says. The ones she likes best are dirty, so he lets her steal one of his long-sleeved t-shirts to change into instead. There’s a couple she really likes, ones he’s had for months that have been worn into softness. They’re more hers than his these days.

Eventually, she’s back in bed in clean sheets. He gets the extra pillows out of the closet and tucks them around her to keep her from rolling onto her sore hip in her sleep.

“What else now?” he asks as he pulls the covers over her.

She hugs an extra pillow to her chest. “Mm. It’s loud and quiet.”

That shouldn’t make sense, but it does. Ellie doesn’t talk much about FEDRA school, but he knows she’s grown up in dorms, with roommates. He could tell it was an adjustment being out of Boston away from the constant noise. Now, she’s gotten more used to the quiet of the woods, especially over the last couple months of winter. The hospital is supposed to be quiet after a certain time, seeing as Ellie’s their only damn patient, but there’s still activity. Shift changes, people walking around and talking, preparations for the next day.

“I know,” he says. He folds an extra blanket over her feet. “Remember when you had that MRI?”

Ellie nods. “Fucking boring.”

He can’t hold back a smile at that. He worried she would be claustrophobic, but she wasn’t bothered, not even by the noise. It took over an hour, though, so he left her with the only nurse he trusts and went to explore some of the other rooms looking for things Ellie might want. He found some old magazines, a few books, and a puzzle they’ve been working on when she has enough energy to sit at the table by the window.

He also found something else, something he thinks she’ll like, that he’s been keeping for a surprise.

“Check this out,” he says, setting the case on the bed next to her.

Ellie opens it, frowning slightly. “Is it… a computer?”

“Better for us.” He shows her how to open it. “It’s a DVD player. Movies.”

“Holy shit. Are there movies?”

He hands her the binder of discs.

“Holy fuck!” She unzips it and flips slowly through the sleeves as he gets the DVD player set up on her bedside table. “There’s so many.”

“There are. You can pick out any of them you want.”

Her flipping slows. “You’re really gonna do this all night, aren’t you?”

“Do what?”

“Trying to… make me feel better.” Ellie sighs. “Okay. Go get the painkillers.”

“Alright,” he says and tries not to make a thing out of it. He spends a few minutes talking to the nurse, talking through Ellie’s options for painkillers. She’s allergic to a lot of them, something that was absolutely terrifying to discover, and sensitive to others. They’ve had a few times where the compromise was Ellie feeling crappy in some other way to take away the pain.

The nurse brings good news when she comes into Ellie’s room — the Fireflies have gotten their hands on more of two of the painkillers Ellie actually tolerates well.

“So, you’ve got three choices,” she says to Ellie. It’s the nurse Joel somewhat trusts, the one Ellie likes because she talks to Ellie like she’s actually a person. “Lowest level, ibuprofen, acetaminophen, ice pack. Medium level, the one we had a couple weeks ago that made you a little queasy and anti-nausea medicine. Highest level, that one that knocks you the fuck out. What are we thinking tonight?”

“Medium. And also the ice pack.” When he nudges her, Ellie adds, “Please.”

By the time the nurse comes back with the meds and ice pack, Ellie’s picked out a movie and they’re a couple minutes into it.

“Oh,” she says, sounding surprised.

Ellie pauses the movie. “What’s wrong?”

The nurse shakes herself. “Nothing. No, nothing. Just… that was my daughter’s favourite movie. I haven’t seen it in years.” She clears her throat. “Now, Miss Ellie, when you take these, I want you to drink a good long drink of water, too.”

When she leaves, Joel turns off the light, leaving just the bathroom light on and the door mostly closed. She doesn’t like sleeping in the dark here. He settles onto the recliner and Ellie gets the movie going.

“Have you seen this one?” she asks.

“I think I saw the first ten minutes before falling asleep,” he admits.

“Well, don’t fall asleep this time,” Ellie instructs.

“You don’t fall asleep.”

The little yellow things are fucking annoying, and he can see why he fell asleep ten minutes in back then — sheer self-defense — but they take Ellie’s mind off the pain until the painkillers kick in. As for him… well, he’s trying not to think too much about the story. An undeniably bad man taking in three little girls for his own personal gain and then growing to love them as his own… well, that might hit a little too close to home for him right now.

It’s too damn late for an existential crisis.

The meds make her sleepy, and as the pain eases, he can see her fighting more and more to stay awake as the movie stretches past the halfway mark.

“Do people really do that?” she asks towards the end. Half her face is buried in the pillow, so all he sees is one big green eye looking at him.

“Do what?”

“Goodnight kisses.” She frowns at him. “That’s just a movie thing, right?”

And, well… that’s no way for a kid to live, thinking that.

As a reformed supervillain gives forehead kisses to a dozen little yellow packing peanuts, Joel leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Ellie’s head.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” he murmurs.

[vulpinesaint]

quiz enjoyers! i am now inviting you to come create something in my workshop❕

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Must be a Sugondese joke.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

guy who's stuck in a timeloop for so long he stops wanting to leave it. guy who started out trying to escape but slowly grew used to and became comforted by the familiarity of the repeating day. guy who is no longer who he was before the timeloop. guy who is offered a way out and violently refuses it because he can't leave, doesn't want to leave. guy who escapes the timeloop by chance or force or accident and doesn't know how to live anymore. guy who keeps going through motions that don't match the situation and keeps having conversations that aren't actually occurring. guy who panics every time he realizes he can't predict the next instant. guy who left the timeloop but still lives with it.

[janederscore]

see the problem with having a fully vibes-based "do what you want forever" politic is that it sorta gives you blanket permission to be deeply incurious about the world and how it functions. every argument can be boiled down to "who's bringing the mood down? just chill out man" and you never have to examine anything for coherency or power dynamics. those girls are just being so meanies for no reason

[bioethicists]

every time a new SA allegation of a favored celeb arises, i'm reminded of the absolutely soul-crushing experience of the depp/heard trial in which i learned that dozens of ppl i loved + respected + trusted were also willing to engage in the basest form of misogyny if the woman Seemed Crazy Enough. there was a horrifying 2ish weeks on this website + much longer irl where i genuinely felt unsafe voicing my discomfort as i relived something eerily reminiscent of the aftermath of my own assaults playing out on screen, commented on by true crime youtubers like it was a red sox game.

it happens time + time again with every new allegation + it's truly the most agonizing + exhausting part of being a survivor. i am begging you all to consider that survivors are watching you engage with this stuff like theater + it erodes our trust in all of you + compounds our grief.

[smileyobrien]

I really don't care where we end up as long as we're together.

[spitblaze]

I guess Chilchuck has brought us right back to 'adults who are short are child-coded and if you like them you're a pedophile' discourse huh

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[lotus-pear]

charm stat at debonair ‼️‼️

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The squad of all time has arrived on scene.

[grasslandgirl]

i'll never get over how fascinating eliot's characterization as a hitter. obviously he's trained- military, hand to hand, weaponry, martial arts- that's to be expected. but so often I think in media about like. the Best Hitters in this genre and etc they're characterized by like? not getting hit. they're sooo good that the avoid every punch and catch every kick in mid air and dodge bullets and etc and that's not Eliot at all. he lets himself get punched in the face. he gets kicked and bowled over and uses that shift in momentum to his advantage. he gets knocked to the ground and the guys he's fighting think he's down for the count for only one moment before Eliot Spencer gets back up. because he always gets back up- but that character trait is Only compelling IF he gets knocked down enough for it to MATTER. and he DOES! and his fighting skills- they're not innate, they're not a natural inclination to fighting, its training and knowledge- he can talk about details and styles at length, he can (and does!) teach the others how to take and throw a punch, which speaks even more to his skill and knowledge and ability. he's the hitter because he's been doing it so long. because he fights to survive and he isn't afraid to get hit and lose the fight to win the battle. god. Eliot Spencer. character of all time

[starcurtain]

Please someone redraw this with Dr. Ratio and Aventurine because this is the exact vibe they have in my head post-Penacony.

[chloesimaginationthings]

I want you to know that because of your art, I now ship Harley Sawyer x Springtrap

Suffer the consequences of your actions

I’m shocked how many of y’all were into these two

[thelvadams]

DOCTOR WHO The Robot Revolution