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roosterforme · 4 months

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The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.

When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.

"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest.

"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled.

"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.

"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."

"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.

"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."

You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."

"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."

"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"

"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."

"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid.

You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him.

"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."

He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.

"I love you too, Daddy."

You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better.

"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut.

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"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"

"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"

But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!"

Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.

"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."

He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home.

As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."

You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.

Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body.

As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."

He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.

When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."

He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands.

"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."

You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."

Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."

"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"

"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.

His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."

"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips.

"I want you with me for the rest of my life."

"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.

"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."

After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.

"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."

"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."

You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."

His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look.

"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.

"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser.

He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later.

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."

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On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go.

"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."

"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."

You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."

One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."

"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."

"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."

"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner.

Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."

As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"

He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."

Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.

On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.

"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."

You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.

"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."

You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"

"I'd be happy to."

But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."

You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"

He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."

You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him.

As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.

"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.

"On the dresser, Bradley."

"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."

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Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun.

"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms.

Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him.

"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all.

You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.

"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."

Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs.

Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."

Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."

Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."

Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?"

Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.

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Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 46

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scaras-silly-girl · 6 months

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okay wait I was onto smth!! maybe!!!

Halloween/Fall Hcs with genshin men!🕸

written w fem reader in mind, established relationships, modern au, light sex joke, ft scara, ajax, lyney

scara

if you're going to want to be out and about on halloween, this is not the guy for you. 100% wants to stay in the whole time

will watch scary movies/play horror games with you, he will any day honestly but- he gets such an ego boost if you hide yourself in his shirt during gorey or freaky parts of movies. he gets so happy that he feels like he can protect you

he will not, under any circumstances, hand out candy to trick or treaters. he will slam the door in a 6 year olds face lmao he thinks it's stupid and will be honest about it. if you have a young sibling, he'll come with you to take them trick or treating (and complain a lot)

he doesn't care for anything sweet, probably opting for sour candies like sweettarts or those weird hard ball things. but maybe if he's feeling generous, he'll buy you some of your favorite treats. even if he hates the sticky sweet gummies and pixie stix you adore, you can bet everything he'll stand in line for hours the day before halloween.

he thinks dressing up is stupid, but you could talk him into a basic couples costume. maybe ghostface and casey (tbh ive never watched scream movies so im going off google) he would probably do that pumpkin head trend with you, he'll feel stupid the whole time but it's worth it to make you happy.

he'd want to carve pumpkins, and he will, but carving them gets difficult for him. it takes a lot of strength to do that, but he will do his best and attempt to help you. maybe it's best to skip this and just paint pumpkins...

you can take him to starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte all you want, but he'll insist on paying and get the worst tasting black coffee every time!! it's even worse because he genuinely likes bitter coffee

overall 10/10 fall boyfie, he doesn't like all the chaos and celebrations, but does enjoy quality time with you<3

ajax

he was literally made for this. he adores autumn and winter. considering he's from shneznaya, he could wear a t-shirt any time in fall and be fine, no matter where you live.

he'll take you to all his friends parties, if your up for it. and you have to have matching costumes, any couple you can think of is a valid costume option. he will be ken. he will wear the fucking roller skating costume. a little off topic but he saw the barbie movie and loved it.

spends halloween hitting up parties and showing off your costumes and takes teucer out to trick or treat at the end of the night. it's literally so cute to see him walking with teucer, eventually carrying him home when it gets too late.

he's so sweet to kids while giving out candy. i think he's the type to have candy bars and other allergy safe options, lollipops and goldfish maybe. the neighborhood kids love his house because of how rich he is, king sized chocolate bars for all. he's such a family man and adores kids so he's made for this.

he goes mad when decorating for halloween, pushing the line between too scary for kids and too cute. somehow it always works out. I feel like he'd be good at decorations because he takes side jobs at haunted houses. he'd be really good at playing a slasher i think.

you'll go to the haunted house he's working at with a group of friends, and he'll end up sneaking up on you from behind, pressing his fake knife to your throat and whispering "boo" it nearly gives you a heart attack but it's mad funny. he definitely gets in trouble for kissing one of the customers, but it's worth it.

if you prefer a calmer way to celebrate, he'll skip most of the parties and have a nice night with you after teucer gets tired out from a sugar rush. you'll snuggle up on the couch together watch whatever scary movies you'd like, he definitely puts up a bunch of candles for the fun atmosphere.

he'll buy you literally anything halloween or fall related. you want a cute new reath for autumn? only the best one on the market for you. want some overpriced seasonal drink? you're having a large and he'll get one too! it's honestly just an excuse to spoil you at this point

he's a 9/10 in this department. would be a 10 if he didn't make jokes about skeletons and boners...

lyney

the halloween boyfriend of the century. he has so much fun with holiday stuff and dressing up makes it even better

he's a performer, he's extra, so he has to win any costume contests! lynette is sick of this nonsense by now but it warms her heart to see you having so much fun helping lyney with his autumnal nonsense.

he's not necessarily one for big halloween celebrations, opting to spend his time hanging out with you and his siblings, possibly telling scary stories. lynette is rather unphased but poor freminet is always freaked out afterwards. there's definitely more than enough marshmallows for all the smores you intend to eat while this goes on.

he'll let you snuggle up next to him around the fire pit if you get a little freaked out. he gets to entertain and be with his lover, two of his favorite things. he'll even roast a few marshmallows for you! but it's expected that you return the gesture.

he'll definitely buy all kinds of dumb halloween decorations from the closest dollar store. don't be suprised when you find plastic spiders placed around the house. he loves to decorate outside of the house, it's slightly obnoxious but you're used to it at this point.

he'll happily take you out for whatever over the top seasonal drink you want, he does this for lynette every year as well. unsurprisingly, she typically becomes the third wheel to these drink based outings. but it's worth it to see lyney fawning over you like a puppy.

as previously mentioned, he dresses up and goes hard on halloween costumes. he'll be the one begging you to match for halloween. he seriously goes hard, the time and dedication of a seasoned cosplayer goes into his costumes.

he's the type to take you to fall festivals and engage in the classic fair games, throwing darts, bobbing for apples, even silly haunted houses. you might end up dragging him into a haunted house, lyney won't get too scared... or at least that's what he says, but he holds your hand the whole time.

a solid 9/10 fall boyfriend, definitely gets into all aspects of october and fall as a whole. he gets a little too carried away and might forget about your scary movie date... but it's okay because now you, him, and both of his siblings all have matching costumes!!

shit i sorta lost motivation with lyneys uhhh it's fineee i just wanted this out for halloween lol

#cherry ☆ writes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader fluff #childe x reader fluff #lyney x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #lyney x reader

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a-random-fan4444 · 11 months

Text

Hockey Stick brainrot is real. Have some ramblings! :D

(Also thank you so much to every single person whose rebloged, liked, or commented on my Hockey Stick stuff!!! 💕💕💕)

Part 1 | Part 2

Quick summary on “Hockey Stick”: Casey jr gets an emotional support animal, but the emotional support animal is Brother Kraang in disguise. Junior names his pet Hockey Stick.

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Casey Jr on the pet forums. His posting history is along the lines of:

“Is it normal for my pet to try to kill anyone who visits my apartment?”

“Is it normal for my pet to screech at midnight?”

“Do animals have a sense of morality?”

And respondes of:

“Yes, my own dog and cat have been acting similarly skittish since the alien invasion. Your pet just wants to protect you. I’d advice slowly introducing new friends to your pets, like through scent! Hope this helps.”

“Yes, all animals do this. I had a little mouse who was silent as well, a mouse, during the day but at night screeched like a banshee. The only insistence where this would be considering not normal is if your pet was a fish.”

“No, people may try and fool you into thinking it’s just cats that lack morality, BUT THEY’RE WRONG!!! My brother’s fish was planning to drown me, I don’t have proof BUT I KNOW I’M RIGHT!!!”

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Hockey Stick being scared of the vacuum, Hockey Stick being afraid of the vacuum, Hockey Stick being afraid of the-NO WAIT! Both Casey Jr and HockeyStick being scared of the vacuum!!!

The sound the vacuum makes reminds them both too much of the sound the portal to the Prison Dimension made when it closed.

April has on more than one occupation vacuumed Casey Jr apartment while he and HockeyStick (hidden in Casey Jr’s hoodie as to not be spotted) hissed at her from the top of the fridge. Both have ear muffs on (HockeyStick’s mini earmuffs were provided by Mikey).

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Both are discovering what it means to be “normal” by human standards.

Casey Jr adjusting to being in a world where he isn’t constantly on survival mode. Where his normal actions are now “paranoid activity”

Brother Kraang not existing in a dimension that’s nothing but vast emptiness and rubble. Pretending to be a normal part of a world that has a lot of biodiversity in comparison to the prison dimension.

Both are experiencing the beauty of planet Earth for the first time, and the joy of just being able to simply enjoy existing for the first time. (•,n,•) I’m making myself emotional.

AND both feel alone because their families are just out of reach!

Casey Jr’s family doesn’t exist anymore, the present version of them will never become the versions of the family who raised him.

Meanwhile Brother Kraang knows his siblings are alive and where they are, but he can’t do anything to free them.

———————————————————

Other Random Detail:

Casey Jr lives in the same apartment complex as Draxum and April.

The name “Hockey Stick” was a suggestion from Casey, she had a goldfish in her childhood named Hockey Puck.

Hockey Stick when first taken in by Junior was the size of a stuffed bear, but is slowly getting back to his regular size.

Brother Kraang despises all animals, they have very good intuition so they attack him on sight.

———————————————————

Little Plot Bunnies, Specifically the Kraang & EPS:

Prime Kraang and Sister Kraang know each other to be alive. They don’t know if Brother Kraang is alive.

Sister Kraang spends her time imprisoned thinking about how she’s gonna torture the turtles. Specifically how she’ll torture them in front of each other, making them give up any information of where her brother is. She misses her psychotic little brother.

Speaking of, the EPF (Earth Protection Force), is looking for “The Infector” (Kraang Brother). They have “The Destroyer” (Kraang Sister), and know that Kraang Prime has somehow been exiled from Earth.

Yes, the EPF can get Kraang Prime’s name right but not the other two. Sister Kraang doesn’t plan on correcting them anything soon.

Honestly I could do a whole spin off on Kraang Sister’s side of the story. While “HockeyStick” is getting belly rubs and napping, Sister Kraang is setting new records for how long a security guard can last before pleading with their superiors for a transfer.

———————————————————

And Finally, Art Time:

Casey Jr with HockeyStick (What are they looking at? 👀)

Brother Kraang shifting into his animal form for the first time.

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richincolor · 9 months

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Group Discussion: The Shadow Sister

Lily Meade’s debut novel was highly anticipated novel about sisters, missing girls, and some sort of curse. The perfect summer read and a perfect discussion book for us!

Publisher’s Summary: Sutton going missing is the worst thing to happen to Casey, to their family. She’s trying to help find her sister, but Casey is furious. And she can’t tell anyone about their argument before Sutton disappeared. Everyone paints a picture of Sutton’s perfection: the popular cheerleader with an entourage of friends, a doting boyfriend, and a limitless future. But Sutton manipulated everyone around her, even stole an heirloom bracelet from Casey. People don’t look for missing Black girls--or half-Black girls--without believing there is an angel to be saved.

When Sutton reappears, Casey knows she should be relieved. Except Sutton isn’t the same. She remembers nothing about while she was gone—or anything from her old life, including how she made Casey miserable. There’s something unsettling about the way she wants to spend time with Casey, the way she hums and watches her goldfish swim for hours.

What happened to Sutton? The more Casey starts uncovering her sister’s secrets, the more questions she has. Did she really know her sister? Why is no one talking about the other girls who have gone missing in their area? And what will it take to uncover the truth?

Warning! Spoilers ahead!

What did you think of the book overall?

K. Imani: I’m really not trying to spoil anything but when I reached the end of the novel I was confused because it just…ended. I was like “where is the rest of it?” I was thrown because I was really enjoying the novel, the relationships between Casey and Sutton, the mystery, etc and wasn’t ready to leave their world. I felt that there were so many layers to this story, so much more that could be explored, that this could have been a very powerful novel.

Crystal: I too was left shaking my head a bit at the end. It resolved all of a sudden, but we didn’t get to see a lot of the relationship development, healing, or growth that I was hoping for after the trauma. There was a lot more we could have seen and it left me wondering if it was meant to have a sequel. Overall though, I enjoyed it and really appreciated the relationships.

Audrey: I liked it quite a bit! It’s rather difficult to talk about the ending without giving major spoilers, so what I’ll say is that I calibrated my genre expectations away from the true crime/mystery end of the genre spectrum fairly early on in the novel. (In other words, I started suspecting we’d have an open, ambiguous, or even downer ending.) With that framework in mind, I feel like the ending worked for the genres in play, and while I might have enjoyed a longer denouement, it wasn’t necessary. THE SHADOW SISTER was the kind of book that needed to end on a striking set piece after all the previous build up, and I think it was a solid way to finish.

Jessica: Not to echo everyone, but I totally feel that and agree with you all! The story was so compelling that it definitely left me wanting more at the end. At the same time, I can completely see what Audrey is saying about calibrating genre expectations and how the build-up led necessarily to that particular ending. It certainly made me excited to read more from Meade!

I know we all have sisters and the overarching theme of this novel was Casey’s and Sutton’s relationship. In what way or ways did the portrayal of their relationship sit with you?

K. Imani: My sister and I are close in age much like Casey and Sutton and it reminded me of our teenage years where we did most of our fighting. As friendships became more important we drifted a bit and that was the source of our tension and I saw much of that reflected in Casey and Sutton’s relationship. I feel it was further added by the way their mother showed her preference for Sutton because she was lighter than Casey (but that is a whole other conversation). For me though, despite their antagonizing relationship, there was still love there. Casey was very gentle with her strange sister and worried about her recovery. I like that Meade included some chapters from Sutton’s POV because it gave us a more complete version of their relationship and showed that there was a chance that if they just communicated better they could become close again.

Crystal: Family relationships can be incredibly complex in spite of sharing genes, surroundings, events, and so much. It has always boggled my mind a bit how even in the same home, my sister and I have such different world views and ways of interacting with others. With Casey and Sutton we see this play out. Sometimes it takes distance to see someone more clearly. Here they have had a trauma, but also some space and time to give them some perspective. Casey definitely believes that she knows Sutton, but it is fascinating to watch Casey begin to understand her sister in a different way. I appreciated this, but especially at the end I wished for a little more from Sutton’s perspective.

Audrey: One of the things that struck me was how quickly and angrily I was on Casey’s side at the start of the novel—and then how that anger slowly drained away as we got more Sutton POV chapters and went further back into the past to see what was happening on the other side of their sisterly relationship and how it had changed. It was—eerie, unnerving, how Sutton returned basically a stranger, and how much Casey didn’t know how to deal with that. Watching their new relationship form in the shadow of their previous animosity was really interesting to me.

Jessica: Sutton’s POV chapters were so important! It was honestly incredible to feel my own perception of the situation shift as I kept reading and the story unfolded. I’m quite close with my sister and we haven’t ever had an antagonistic relationship, so this was actually quite a change of pace for me. But the complex ties of family certainly resonated with me – and agree – there was love there.

Casey is sometimes very unlikeable and is an unreliable narrator. How did her version of events between her and Sutton affect your reading?

K. Imani: Having Casey be both at times unlikeable and also unreliable is what drew me to her. Her feelings towards her sister greatly clouded her reaction to when her sister returned and why she was so suspicious in the first place. Her parents and others didn’t see it, but this version of Sutton that Casey had in her head is what drove the story forward. The conflict that Casey carried by being both moved and repulsed by her sister really showed the complexities of their relationship and ultimately led to the truth being revealed.

Crystal: Perhaps this speaks to the often rocky childhood relationship I had with my younger sister, but I found Casey to be believable and related with her quite a bit. My sister and I were very antagonistic in our younger years and only as adults began to see each other without so much blocking our vision of each other. I was surprised to see the word unlikeable in the question so maybe I connected to her a little too much.

Audrey: With Casey as the narrator, it was really easy to be on her side because she had such a flat view of Sutton at the start. On a meta level, I kept circling back to the idea that Casey only started to question her own perception of her sister once Sutton was—well, very obviously not herself anymore from everyone’s POV, including hers. Her own uncertainty about what she knew about Sutton was complicated by the fact that she had seen other sides to Sutton that no one else had or would admit to (the fighting, the cruelty). And even though I loved the Sutton POV chapters for how they revealed things, I’m not sure that Sutton was any more of a reliable narrator than Casey when it came to their relationship. I really liked that ambiguity and uncertainty in the story—it drove a lot of tension and suspenseful moments.

Jessica: I loved the nuance and complexity layered into the characterization of the sisters! I have a soft spot for characters who are unreliable narrators and imperfect people (aren’t we all?). It was so fascinating to see how Casey and Sutton evolved throughout the story. And I love drilling in on the whole idea of, well, the idea of someone. That the perception of who someone is that we build up in our head may not be accurate. So relevant and haunting!

The theme of family is strong in this novel, especially with Casey’s father being a historian and researching their family’s history. What part of Casey’s family story stuck with you the most?

K. Imani: I absolutely loved how Casey’s grandmother, Ma Remy, went about getting her family artifacts from the museum. I was so angry for her that the museum initially denied access to her own family documents that she had to go to extremes to getting it back. The way she snuck in to the reenactment and no one noticed…I laughed. Typical of people who say they mean well, but are just as racist. I thought her plan was genius and the fact that Casey’s father was embarrassed by it unnerved me. I got a sense of the force of the woman that Casey’s grandmother was from that one story alone and loved her for it.

Crystal: That sense of history and being connected through the years stuck with me. And yes, I loved Ma Remy and how she reclaimed their property. Also, she was so great at managing to make both Sutton and Casey feel special. They both had a strong bond with her that lasted beyond life. Her deep love for family and connection is passed down through the generations. It was also a hoot to see that her diary included a bit about her love life.

Jessica: I loved Casey’s grandmother! She really made such an impactful impression from that one story. Not to jump on board with you all, but she really stuck with me. Co-sign!

Audrey: Agreed, with all of you, plus I liked how the family history theme connected to the climax of the story and made that particular ending possible. Being able to learn about and claim your family history had power, and it was a delight to watch how that played out. It also gave hope to the idea that Casey and Sutton could reconcile someday, which was important to me as a reader.

Casey and Sutton’s mom was adamant about creating a perfect vision of Sutton so the police and the community would look for her because she is biracial. The story also contrasts this with mentioning the other two missing Black Girls.

K. Imani: I’m so glad this theme was prevalent in the story. Initially I was irritated that Casey and Sutton’s mom felt like they had to pretend Sutton was the perfect child, but I appreciated that the story focused on this theme because when Black girls go missing, it seems that society will only help out those whom they deem “perfect”. Showing the traumatic toll this takes on a family and highlighting how police treat missing Black girls really showed the injustice in our society.

Crystal: This was an important point that I too am glad was in the story. It shouldn’t be an angle that families need to focus on when they are trying to find their loved one, but that’s still where we are and the author acknowledges it openly.

Jessica: So glad you bring this up. Seeing the pain and the injustice in the book, and what Casey and Sutton’s mom felt like she had to do, really hit home. And as Crystal points out, this has been an ongoing issue in current events – and of course, past events. It’s so important that there are books like The Shadow Sister to highlight this terrible discrepancy to readers who might not be aware of it, and to acknowledge readers who are.

Audrey: Honestly, that plot line hurt, but I’m glad it was tackled upfront. The scene where Casey tried to look up information online about the other missing girls was heartbreaking, especially how she had to keep refining her search terms and still found barely anything. I couldn’t help but think at the end that so many other Black girls could have gone missing if Sutton hadn’t been taken when she did—she was lucky her family was in such a position that they could get that media coverage. But even after the media coverage for Sutton, that didn’t change the narrative for any of the other missing girls, which was awful to see.

Stories about sibling relationships (found siblings count!) are major themes in many YA novels. What are some of your favorite books and what book about siblings are you looking forward to?

K. Imani: I just finished reading My Week with Him by Joya Goffney which has a sweet sibling relationship (look for my review next week!). Brandy Colbert also writes siblings really well and I’m so looking forward to reading her newest book, The Blackwoods, which comes out in October.

Crystal: Warrior Girl Unearthed by Angeline Boulley, So Many Beginnings: A Little Women Remix by Bethany C. Morrow and Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi are some of the more recent books I’ve read that feature sister relationships. I think the sibling book I’m most looking forward to is Her Radiant Curse by Elizabeth Lim.

Jessica: Everyone Wants to Know by Kelly Loy Gilbert is a book centered around a family that I read recently and loved! I need to read My Week with Him and Her Radiant Curse – so those are on my TBR.

Audrey: Good question! I loved the sisters in She is a Haunting by Trang Thanh Tran and the sworn sisters in Strike the Zither by Joan He.

That’s our discussion. Have you read The Shadow Sister yet? What did you think? Share your thoughts in the comments.

#weneeddiversebooks #group discussion #young adult books #ya lit

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itscomplicatedx · 3 years

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Loki: ::points to Casey:: I think I made a friend!

Mobius: Made a friend?! You ruined a perfectly good bureaucratic employee is what you did! Look at him-he’s got anxiety! And he won’t stop asking what a fish is…

#done to death I know but I couldn’t help myself #Loki #Loki series #Loki show humor #crack #poor Casey #stop tormenting him Loki #mobius m mobius #casey #give Casey a goldfish #Loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki series disney plus #the loki show #Tom Hiddleston #owen wilson #eugene cordero #let casey run the tva #TVA

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lazy-cat-corner · 3 years

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Loki: [hands goldfish] Hey Casey, here’s that fish I was talking about.

Casey: 🥺 OMG he’s so cute I love him I’m gonna name him Loki and he’ll be my best friend! I’ll feed him and take him on walks and teach him how to play fet-

Loki: So since I gave you a present, it’s only fair you give me one too, right? Like a “welcome to the office” paperweight or idk stones something like that.

Casey: [opens drawer] What’s your favorite color?

#i believe in 🐍loki x 🐟casey supremacy!#loki tricking casey into giving him the power to wipe out thanos from every existence #and by trick i mean he asks him nicely #loki #loki series spoilers #loki series #marvel #avengers #mcu #incorrect loki quotes #loki headcanon #tva #time variance authority

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lowkeyorloki · 3 years

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Goldfish

Pairing: Loki x Mobius

Rating: Teen and up, but nothing more than a couple kisses

A/N: Hiiii sorry I’m never on here anymore I’m a bit busy and I don’t have time to post consistently on tumblr if I want to keep updating my multichapter! I know this isn’t my usual content but I’m posting it on my ao3 so I figured I’d drop it here as well ^.^ it’s funny, I don’t even ship lokius but I saw some fanart on twitter of them hugging and it just... inspired me. If this is your thing, I hope you enjoy <3

It’s just that… Loki knows it will have to be him.

He can’t read Mobius, not like he can every other human he comes across. Or being, even. Mobius has seen every moment of Loki’s life, some of which Loki himself will now never live out or understand. Mobius has watched Loki in his most private moments.

It makes the TVA agent inescapable. He knows Loki, truly knows him, whether Loki likes it or not.

And so Loki can’t tell with Mobius. The small exhaled laughs or the allowance of Loki to fix his tie. Loki doesn’t know if Mobius does these things because he wants to, or because Loki would like to think the other man wants him to.

And Mobius is loyal to the TVA, anyway. Even if he were to look past all of Loki’s faults, even if Mobius were to see Loki as anything more than a pain in the ass of a friend, he wouldn’t do anything. It was controversial enough to bring in Loki at all.

Loki should be thankful he has Mobius in any capacity at all.

And so Loki knows he would have to make the first move. And he can’t do that, because Mobius is possibly the only person who could destroy Loki with a simple rejection.

Loki keeps quiet, and lives for when his shoulder brushes Mobius’s in the elevator.

Trying to find the variant is exhausting. Mobius is on his seventh cup of coffee, and his head is starting to buzz. Not the good, productive type of buzz either. The type that makes someone need to lay down.

Apparently, Loki has already had that idea. Mobius glances at him, asleep across the table and surrounded by books and loose papers. As he drains the last of what’s in his cup, Mobius realizes he hasn’t seen Loki eat or drink a single thing since he got here. If he had to, Mobius would bet money the god hasn’t been sleeping either.

Mobius stands up, his back cracking when he does. He groans - Mobius is getting old, something he’s noticed more and more lately. He walks around the table until he’s right next to Loki, ready to wake him up. Loki’s breaths are even, hitting the ends of a few pieces of paper. Mobius has never really seen him like this - calm, subdued. He almost looks peaceful. Mobius leans over Loki, hands on his hips as he examines the other man.

Mobius would never tell Loki, but it is obvious that the dark-haired man is a god. There are just things about his looks that clue Mobius in.

Loki’s skin, even as it’s gotten dull with his time in the TVA, is technically flawless. He glows, even in his embarrassing or rude moments. His cheekbones are impossibly sharp, and his lips are the reddest Mobius has seen. He would guess they’re soft.

Loki’s hair was the most dead giveaway. It always looked perfect, loose curls that seemed to suck in any light. It was the opposite of Mobius’s graying blond hair. He’s shiny. Everything about Loki is shiny.

Loki stirs, and Mobius straightens up, not wanting Loki to see him watching. He was upset enough that Mobius has watched his entire life over.

Mobius ponders how to wake Loki up when a lock of his black hair falls into his face. Without thinking, Mobius reaches forward and tucks it behind the man’s ear.

Reckless. Loki really does start to wake up then, and Mobius swats him with the corner of the folders in his hand.

“Come on,” Mobius says. “We’re not even close to done.”

The two of them are so close to making strides. Loki is smart, just like Mobius knew - just like he keeps convincing Ravonna - but he’s being held back. It’s like a single wrong look could make Loki wither away, be absent for the rest of the day. Mobius has no clue how someone who thought so highly of himself could be so affected by the glare of a random agent. Maybe Mobius didn’t know Loki as well as he thought. Only in small ways, though.

And Mobius still hasn’t seen him eat or drink a damn thing.

He stands up abruptly, surprising Loki. His head shoots up, perfect curls becoming loose and falling in his face in the process. Mobius almost considers brushing them away.

“Come on,” he says, gesturing towards the exit. Loki narrows his eyes.

“We haven’t even been here four hours,” he says, which is generous, because they both know they’ve only been there for two. Mobius lets out a harsh sigh.

“Am I the supervisor or are you? Let’s go, Loki.” Loki seems to know Mobius is doing him a favor, and stands up as well. Loki follows him down a new set of hallways, stands next to him in an elevator he hasn’t been on yet.

“Am I to take it we’re breaking the rules, or…?” Loki trails off in a way that is anything but unsure.

“It’s for the sake of the cause,” Mobius says. “We don’t need to address it directly.”

Mobius does look over his shoulder when he gets to the door, and locks it as soon as they’re both inside. He flicks on the lights, and Loki looks bored. Mobius lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you. Sit down,” he gestures towards the couch.

“Agent Mobius, are you allowing me in your home?” Loki’s eyes glint. Despite himself, Mobius finds himself relieved to hear Loki making quips again. He already might have more energy.

“Hey, if we don’t talk about it, my job security looks a lot better,” Mobius sets a bowl down in front of Loki. “Will you please eat something? God or not, I don’t know how you’re still alive after a month.” Loki presses his lips into a thin line.

“Mobius, I appreciate the gesture, but you don’t need to -” Mobius is already prepared, and tosses a piece of food directly into Loki’s mouth as he speaks. He makes a gagging noise, and looks at Mobius furiously, but the other man is already laughing.

“What… what are these?” He asks after swallowing, seemingly admitting defeat. Mobius laughs again.

“Goldfish. They’re from Earth you know,” Mobius eats a few, and quietly celebrates when Loki does as well.

“Goldfish. I know of an employee you have that might benefit from these,” Loki tells him.

“I’m flattered you think I’m anyone’s, especially Casey’s, superior. But really, the only person I’m in charge of is you,” Mobius says. Loki glares.

“I’m always ten steps ahead of you all. Surely you know that,” he says, but it’s non-committal. Mobius can tell.

“Yep. You’ve said before, handsome. This is all part of your plan.” Mobius looks to Loki for his next retort, but Loki doesn’t say anything. He stares at Mobius with an unreadable look on his face, and Mobius realizes his slip up. Handsome.

“Hey, don’t let my crackers go to waste. They’re hard to get a hold of around here, you know,” Mobius says, and Loki seems to move.

They stay like that for awhile, Loki sitting as Mobius watches over him. Mobius is just getting comfortable again when Loki gets up.

“It’s been great, but we probably should be heading back now,” he says, walking towards the door. “Wouldn’t want the timekeepers finding out about this, would we?”

Mobius stops him, carefully telling him to wait. Loki does, back facing him.

“I can tell you’re tired, Loki. I get it. You got here just after a war,” Loki tenses, just barely, at the mention of New York. Mobius talks faster to smooth it over. “I think you can take a day off. Better for me anyway. I don’t want to be sticking my neck out for someone who isn’t even helping all that much.” Mobius puts his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

He’s always shocked by the amount of muscle he can feel through the material of Loki’s shirt. Loki seems so lean, but whenever Mobius touches him, he can feel how solid the other man is. He likes it. It’s soothing.

Loki turns around, looking suspicious. Mobius doesn’t blame Loki, but he does almost feel guilty.

Almost.

“You can sleep here. Not just today. I’m sure the cot they have you sleeping in hardly compares to whatever you had on Asgard,” Mobius steps away, letting Loki go and waving his hand. “My couch doesn’t either, but it’s an upgrade for sure. Living room is all yours, buddy.”

“Where are you going?” Loki asks. Mobius looks at him.

“To my room. I’m tired too,” he says. Loki blinks.

“Won’t someone notice I’m not where I’m supposed to be?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Mobius says dismissively, even though he has no idea how he’s going to pull this off.

He’s practically made Loki a promise at this point. He’ll figure out how to make it all okay somehow.

It’s driving Loki insane.

Before, he could keep it all in because he was scared that Mobius wouldn’t want it. Wouldn’t want him. But now, there are moments that Loki doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Mobius might push him away, give him that disapproving look if it meant Loki could just…

Kiss him.

Loki scoffs at himself. He didn’t even get this caught up in the thought of a kiss as a boy. It was pathetic to feel like this in adulthood.

What’s even worse is the thought that maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. He can recall watching Thor on Earth as he followed around Jane Foster, losing every bit of charm that kept him so popular on Asgard. At the time, Loki didn’t understand it.

But now he does.

Everything is so high stakes for him - Loki is doomed if he doesn’t do as the TVA wants, and he would have been doomed had he just stayed on Earth like he was supposed to. But he barely even pays attention to those things.

Every waking moment is about Mobius. How he looks in the morning before he showers, hair tousled as he digs around in the fridge. The way his face lights up when he and Loki almost find the variant, and then the inevitable disappointment when they don’t. How every night, without fail, he tells Loki goodnight as the god falls asleep on his couch.

Loki is starting to think there is something here. Because he’s paranoid, but not stupid. Mobius wouldn’t be letting Loki get this close if he thought the same way as when they first met.

They enjoy each other. Mobius likes to lead, to rebel in the way he’s been given permission to. And Loki is realizing he doesn’t mind following a man like Mobius.

Of course, the TVA isn’t so bad either.

The organization itself, Loki hates. He’s never met the timekeepers, but they sound like kings. That was a group Loki never got along with.

But the buildings, the center, was growing on him. Even if he wasn’t allowed access to most of the materials, Loki likes the library. He enjoys staying deep in the bookshelves, and bringing a stack out to drop right on the book Mobius is reading. Loki likes the elevators, which seemed to be the few minutes he could simply stand in silence and rest. He likes Casey too, though he tends to leave the poor, sad man alone now.

Most of all, Loki likes the long hallways that rarely had anyone but him and Mobius. They feel private without being stifling. Sometimes, when the two go back to Mobius’s apartment too early, Loki feels sick. Like it physically hurts to be so close to having what he wants.

“That brown suit is hideous, you know.” Loki tells Mobius as they’re both getting ready. Mobius scowls at Loki.

“It’s uniform. You know, if everything works out, you might get one just like it,” Mobius retorts. Loki scoffs. “Alright then, mr. prince. What would you have me in?”

Loki stops, his eyes trailing over Mobius as he thinks about the question. Loki smirks, turning around as he grabs his belt.

“Anything else. You always look so uptight. No one here knows how to let loose a bit.”

“I’m uptight. That’s a good one,” Mobius says. He’s standing by the door, wanting to leave. “Could you hurry up and put your pants on? We’re late.”

All Loki is doing is tucking his shirt in, but he thinks he can feel Mobius looking. It’s in a way that doesn’t seem strictly observational.

The nightmares, of course, are an issue.

Loki hasn’t shared a room since he and Thor were children, so no one knows about the night terrors he gets. Maybe Mobius does, having had a glance at a few as he watched Loki’s life play out on the screen. But Loki doesn’t think so, because Mobius has never said anything.

But of course, Loki has to ruin that. He wakes up with a shout that echoes off the walls. He slaps a hand over his mouth, then pulls it away, sticky with sweat. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose when Mobius bursts into the living room, slamming his hand over the light switch to turn it on.

“I’m sorry,” Loki says immediately, squinting at the brightness. “I didn’t mean to be so loud. I know you would get in trouble if someone were to find me here.”

“You.. I’d…” Mobius blinks, still half asleep and trying to figure out what’s happening. “Loki, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Go back to bed, Mobius.” Loki leans more into his palm, cursing himself for letting this happen. If Mobius knows Loki like he claims to, he should just go.

Mobius stays in the doorway, and Loki can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Mobius sighs.

“Look, I’m not gonna ask you what it was, but… why don’t you sleep in here for tonight?” He gestures behind him, presumably towards his bed. Loki raises his head, looking at the other man.

Mobius looks sincere - painfully so. It seems like he doesn’t know what’s going on or what he should do, but he also looks like he just wants Loki to listen.

Loki gets up, folding the blanket on the couch before he follows Mobius. Loki crawls into the bed after the other man, staying as far away as possible. He expects Mobius to say something else, but he doesn’t. Mobius just sighs and yanks the blanket towards him.

Loki wakes up feeling amazing.

He feels rested, warm and heavy as he stirs. The room smells like sleep, and Loki can’t help but raise his arms above his head and stretch. That’s when he feels something on his chest. Loki opens his eyes, peering down. Mobius’s arm is slung over him, the other man still asleep.

Loki doesn’t move, trying to figure out how asleep Mobius still is. He wonders if they can stay like this for a few more minutes.

He doesn’t take the chance. Loki gets up, quietly leaving so he can take a shower in the bathroom where his toothbrush sits next to Mobius’s.

Mobius doesn’t like this shift in his feelings.

He liked thinking Loki was all bravado with no depth. It was easy to separate everything that way. What was work, and what wasn’t. What mattered and didn’t.

What was ethical or not.

Being around Loki so much was making Mobius like him. Even worse, care. He started to dread rewatching certain scenes from his life to look for clues that might tell him where other Lokis are, because Mobius can see the effects of it all now. They’re playing out in front of him, sleeping on his living room couch.

When Loki wakes up from whatever he was dreaming about, Mobius feels sick. He doesn’t even think about the fact Loki’s cry is loud enough to get caught - literally does not even occur to him. His only thought is, what now? What could possibly catch up to you here?

After Loki lays down in his bed (which was easier to get him to do than Mobius thought), Mobius listens for his breathing to even out. Then he reaches over, resting his arm on Loki’s chest. Mobius falls asleep making sure Loki is still breathing.

Mobius notices the way Loki looks at him. The realization makes Mobius think about the two of them. What it would mean.

It hasn’t even occurred to him to look at Loki like that, not seriously. Loki is an asset, so Mobius built up a ton of walls for the sake of professionalism. You know, for his job. Mobius is aware of Loki’s attractiveness because he has to be. It’s part of the reason all these Lokis get away with so much.

But after that night Mobius begins to look at Loki because he can. And then he realizes he’s been doing that all along.

“You know,” Mobius tells Loki the next afternoon. They’re in the cafeteria, and Loki is eating everything in his salad but the cherry tomatoes. “It might be better if you stay with me again tonight. Like you said, we wouldn’t want any of my neighbors to pick up on anything.” Loki raises an eyebrow, carefully setting his fork down. Mobius clears his throat.

“No need to be embarrassed, partner. I’m told I have a soothing presence.”

“I absolutely would not say that,” Loki says. “But… if you insist. After all,” Loki’s eyes glint. “You’re in charge.”

Mobius doesn’t know what to say to that, and drinks a cup of water in just one gulp.

And they settle into it. Loki doesn’t sneak out of Mobius’s arms, in fact, he actively seeks them out. Only once everything is quiet and the lights are out, but still. Loki tucks his head under Mobius’s chin, Mobius wraps his arms around Loki’s torso, and they both like it. A lot.

They don’t mention it ever, but it doesn’t seem like something they aren’t allowed to talk about. It’s just part of the routine. Shower, study, search, eat, get in bed. It’s nice.

At some point, Loki realizes this is the longest he’s stayed in one place for a very long time.

Just like Loki thought, he’s the first to do it.

They’re in the elevator, and it’s taking a particularly long time, and Mobius decided to stand closer than he needed to and Loki just… kisses him.

The best part is, Mobius doesn’t even seem surprised. He opens his mouth when Loki bites down on his lip, and he holds on to the lapels of Loki’s jacket and Loki cradles his face. Everything is so familiar, so natural, and Loki can’t help but smile against Mobius’s stupid mustache.

And then Loki pulls away. Mobius doesn’t say anything, but he gives Loki a sad smile. Loki feels his blood run cold.

“What?” He asks, and suddenly, he feels like a child. Like Mobius knows something he doesn’t, and now Loki is going to be chastised.

“Nothing,” Mobius says, but that’s obviously not true. He sighs. “It’s just… that can't happen again.”

Loki stares at Mobius. “Why?” He demands. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Mobius says. His hands are resting on Loki’s waist, but he slides one over Loki's stomach. Mobius’s fingers find their way through the holes that the buttons of Loki’s shirt leave. The feeling of Mobius’s fingers on Loki’s bare skin make Loki dizzy, and confused.

“Then why can’t we do it again?” He asks, wanting to rip Mobius’s hand off of him, but unable to bring himself to. Mobius grimaces.

“Loki... Isn’t what we got goin’ enough?” Loki is cool under Mobius’s fingers. No more than anyone else though, even with his frost giant heritage. “C’mon, Loki,” when Mobius glances at Loki, then immediately looks away. The sight of Loki’s disorientated face, combined with his mouth slightly ajar… it’s too much. “You know if it goes any further one of us will screw up. I’ll even say it’ll be me. But someone would notice. It’d be impossible for them not to.”

“But… you’re the one who started this,” Loki protests, and he’s right, because Mobius is the one who brought him into this whole mess. The TVA, his apartment, his bedroom. It’s all been Mobius. Loki never asked for any of that.

“I know,” Mobius says, and he sounds like he’s sorry. “Listen, I know. I’m sorry. We can’t have it all, but if we keep going the way we have, we can still have some.”

Loki steps away, and Mobius’s face falls. He looks more angry than sad.

“I think I’d like to go back to my cell now.” Loki says.

Loki doesn’t actually go back to his cell. But he does sleep on the couch again, and refuses to touch the Goldfish Mobius leaves out.

Mobius feels like a dick, but he’s also sort of pissed. He’s not happy about this either, and if Loki wasn’t always so selfish, he would see that Mobius also isn’t prancing around in happiness.

“I’m not like you,” Mobius tells Loki the next morning. “Look, I can’t just… rebel. It’s not a luxury I’ve been afforded.”

“I’m glad that after seeing my entire life and death, you’ve settled on the word ‘luxury’ to describe it,” Loki responds angrily, and Mobius just backs off. He knows he won’t get anywhere with Loki, not like this.

Watching Loki close himself off is… exactly what Mobius would have thought it would be.

It’s exactly the same as when Loki arrived at the TVA, he’s just less defensive. Loki is just as mad at everyone else, but with Mobius, Loki doesn’t even give him a reaction. He does exactly what’s asked of him, no more and no less.

Mobius misses him.

Loki is just across the table, but Mobius misses their rapport. He wants to tease the god again, hassle him as they make their way to the cafeteria. Mobius wants to listen to Loki talk about Asgard, tell him all the little details that can’t be picked up on a screen. He wants his friend back.

And now Mobius isn’t sleeping, either. He grew used to Loki’s head resting on his chest, the feeling of his hip in his hand. Mobius thinks about the skin of Loki’s stomach, how everything in the elevator felt.

It was like Mobius lit up. He felt alive again, with free will and all.

But of course, Mobius doesn’t have free will. If he did, he’d pull Loki into the elevator himself, and show Loki just how much wanted this too.

It hurts because Loki knows Mobius wants this.

It’s almost worse than if he didn’t - because Mobius liking, wanting, and maybe even needing Loki back, it makes him like everything else in Loki’s life. Loki is so close, he can reach it, even hold it in the palm of his hand. A life with Mobius, at least for the time being, would be exactly as it was before the argument, except more so. Just a bit more.

Loki can’t take it. He feels like he’s going to vomit every second of the day, because his life is a vicious cycle and coming so far just to be thrown away. He takes long showers now, the stream of water being the only thing that can drown out his thoughts. Loki almost doesn’t see Mobius as he steps out of the bathroom, drying his hair.

“Loki,” the other man says, and his tone is so grave that Loki stops.

“Mobius,” he responds. “Do you need something?”

“I… I wanted to apologize,” Mobius takes a step forward. “For what I said.”

Loki tilts his head. “For which part? I recall quite a few things.” A look of exasperation passes over Mobius’s face. Loki hates to admit it, but the look is relieving. It makes everything seem less serious than it is.

“What I said about not being like you,” Mobius explains. “Look, I know you’ve felt alone your whole life. And the way I said that, I don’t feel good about it. I’m sorry.”

Loki blinks, then throws his towel in the hamper.

“It’s fine,” he says. Mobius shakes his head, stepping even closer, and Loki raises his eyes.

“No, Loki, it’s not,” Mobius reaches up, running his fingers through Loki’s damp hair. “I lied,” he murmurs. “I lied to the God of Lies. I am like you, Loki. I’m your kind. I know Lokis, so I know who you would have been. But this you?” Mobius places his hands over Loki’s hips and pushes, pressing Loki’s back against the wall. “I’m still getting to know who you are now. And I like you, Loki. I really do.” Mobius stares at Loki expectantly. Loki swallows, resting his hands on Mobius’s shoulders. Mobius is softer than Loki is, and it makes Loki’s mouth water. From here, Loki can see every wrinkle and gray hair that Mobius has. He’s painfully human. Loki closes his eyes, leaning forward to press his lips against Mobius’s temple.

“Do you mean it?” He asks. “Will it stick? Are you going to call it all off?” At this angle, Mobius can reach Loki’s neck, and he begins to suck on the delicate skin there. Loki lets out a moan.

“I can’t promise we’re gonna get married and be together forever,” Mobius teases Loki lightly. He runs his tongue over Loki’s Adam’s Apple. “But I’m not gonna stop just because of the TVA. You.. you’re worth more than that.” Mobius slides his palms under Loki’s shirt and up his back, and Loki melts into him. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Loki says, because that’s all there is to say. He trusts Mobius, Loki realizes. He wholeheartedly does.

“Loki,” Mobius says, exhaling. “Can I touch you? Do you want me to touch you?”

Loki straightens, catching Mobius’s eye.

“Yes.”

#also as you all know i hated the show so if some details are off. good <3 #lmao i called casey randall bc i thought that was his name #anyway #loki #loki laufeyson #mobius #mobius m. mobius #mobius m mobius #lokius #loki x mobius #loki laufeyson x mobius #loki laufeyson x mobius m. mobius #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #loki 2021 #loki (2021)#loki series

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thedragonemperess · 3 years

Text

I really hope this series ends with Loki and Mobius committing arson together

Just

PLEASE

LET THEM BURN DOWN THE TVA

AND NOW THEY HAVE A LEGITIMATE REASON TO START WITH MOBIUS' DESK

HE'S A VARIANT

HIS MEMORY WAS WIPED

HE'S NO LONGER A WILLING MEMBER OF THE TVA

STARTING WITH HIS DESK WOULD BE LIKE COMPLETELY LETTING GO OF THE LIE HE'S BEEN LIVING FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG

IT WOULD BE SO FREAKING PERFECT

(Also, get Sylvie a bag of potato chips and give Casey a pet goldfish, thaaaaaaaanks)

#marie speaks because why not #marvel stuff #loki spoilers #loki series #caps tw #lokius #kind of

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Curse of the Clan part 53! @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid

“How do we track Krang?” Leonardo asked when the story concluded.

“You don’t.” Was Knight’s answer, “If Krang is free, he will be seeking revenge on the ones who trapped him; it may not have been you in this life, but Krang will not see the difference. All you can do is wait and trust your instincts. You wouldn’t have been reincarnated if you couldn’t complete this task. He will come to you, and after he does and you defeat him, the council will be there to clean up the mess…

~~~

Back at the lair, Leonardo was stewing in his own thoughts. He, for one, was never good at waiting. If something had to get done, it had to get done right that moment, as soon as possible. No delays, no time for second guessing. Sitting there on the couch, surrounded by his family, doing nothing was the worst kind of torment! He just wanted Krang to find them and fast so they could handle the conflict and return to their normal lives. All this waiting was driving him crazy and he just felt so helpless—

“I feel the same way, Leonardo.” Splinter’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade and made everyone look toward him.

“What?” Michelangelo asked, the fastest one to break out of the silence that had plagued them.

“I feel helpless too.” Splinter said with a slow nod, closing his eyes in solidarity.

“Too?” Raphael asked slowly.

“Yes.” Splinter said; now he too was confused as he opened his eyes and looked around at the faces staring back at him. “Like… like Blue said.”

Silence, followed by Leonardo saying, “No I didn't…”

“No?” Splinter’s ears pressed back. He looked from Leonardo to the rest, who all shook their heads. “Oh…”

Draxum hummed, unamused. “I guess we found Yoshi’s power.”

More silence. The faint trickling of water was a constant this low in the sewer. The rumble of Donatello’s machines across the lair, the hum of the fridge, the low drone of the television that even Splinter wasn’t paying attention to. Eventually, the steady tapping of Leonardo’s fingers joined the melody of background noise.

“I want a kitten.” Michelangelo stated.

“What?” Raphael, and all others, turned to Michelangelo.

“After this whole Krang thing is done, I want a kitten.” Michelangelo stated again, closing his eyes and nodding matter-a-factly, “A fluffy orange kitten and I’m gonna name him Klunk. And I’m gonna buy him the most expensive cat trees to ignore, and give him wet food every day, and buy him lots of feather toys to play with. And he’ll sleep with me every day.”

There were a few moments of the clan looking around at each other, Michelangelo’s hopeful statements ringing in their minds.

“After we defeat Krang…” Leonardo was the next to talk, mind set on breaking the awkward silence, “You know what we’re gonna do? We’re finally gonna finish that Hip Hop Christmas Album.”

His words were met with groans from his father and siblings and confused murmurs from his friends.

“You’re still on that?” April groaned, shaking her head and laughing.

Leonardo threw his arms into the air in surrender. “It’s a good idea! Just because you’re all lame doesn’t mean a hip hop teenage ninja turtle mutant album isn’t a good idea! Have you heard my voice?”

“More than I would care to have.” Donatello commented, rolling his eyes.

“You’re welcome!” Leonardo said, flopping over to rest against Donatello and pull the softshell close, “Love you brother! And Let me guess; you want uranium when this is all said and done.”

“No.” Donatello said with a scoff, then immediately added, “Well— yeah. But I also wanna rebuild Shelldon…” Donatello carefully removed his necklace so he could hold Shelldon’s memory chip in his hand. He stared at it for a long, drawn out moment before Leonardo carefully brought his hand against Donatello’s so they were holding Shelldon together. Donatello finally smiled. “It… it’ll be my next big project… I really miss him…”

Leonardo smiled and rubbed Donatello’s shoulder, which in turn made Donatello rest his full weight into Leonardo and lay his head on his twin's shoulder. Leonardo welcomed the affection gladly and wrapped an arm around the softshell.

April took a deep breath through her nose. “I… would kinda like to start sending in college applications.” She brushed her hair out of the way of her face, “Thinking about going into journalism…”

That was met with an uproar of applause from all but Draxum, who didn't quite seem to know what college was. April was swarmed by hugs and affectionate touches from her friends as they praised her.

“You know we’ll support you every step of the way, Apes!” Raphael declared.

“Yeah! Just way the word and we’ll get you into any school you want!” Leonardo prodded April’s chest. “Within reason, of course.”

“Okay, we need role models, teachers, sources—we’re missing the references, people!” Donatello immediately pulled out his phone and started on seeking out potential references.

“Guys!” April laughed as she shoved the turtles off of her, “All I saw was I was considering it! Still gotta finish up school first.”

“It never hurts to be prepared.” Donatello said.

“Well… I’m not so sure what I wanna do yet.” Sunita said, laughing weakly as she twiddled her hair, “Maybe just get out in the workforce, try some things out…? Maybe something with children?”

“There’s no rush.” Draxum reassured, “I was well into my adult years before I realized I wanted to be an evil, warring warrior scientist!”

“And ignoring that note…” Splinter said slowly, then cleared his throat, “I want to adopt another goldfish. Since Piebald was flushed and mutated, I’ve been feeling a little bit lonely.”

“We can get you another one, Splints.” April smiled as she patted the old rats back affectionately.

“Pathetic!” Draxum growled, jumping from his seat and onto the table so he could make his announcement loud and proud, “While you waste your time adopting a normal, puny goldfish, I shall adopt a shark! And name him Sharky and train him to fight for our cause.”

“It’s not a competition…” Splinter grumbled, slightly jealous that he hadn't thought of it first.

“What do you want to do Cassandra?” Michelangelo asked innocently.

Cassandra considered. Then, taking a page out of Draxum’s book, she kicked over the chair she was sitting in so she could stand on it like a sailor on the bow of his ship tasting the salty winds.

“I want to rip our enemies to shreds, dance on their graves, then dig them back up and—“

“CJ, CJ, CJ.” Leonardo had to repeat the name a few times before he got Cassandra’s attention, standing up to address her while she stared down at him, “We’ve all been talking about, you know, getting pets and jobs and stuff. Killing and then dancing on the graves of our enemies is just a liiiiiiiittle much. So bring the bar just just a little bit. Just a little. Think smaller.”

Cassandra took a while to answer, struggling to think of just one, small thing she really wanted to do. She flipped her chair back over so she could sit backward in it and rest her head on the backrest. Her eyes lit up all at once and she finally knew what she wanted to do.

“I… kinda really want to rebuild my parents old bakery. It was burned down when I was just a kid and… and it was never rebuilt. It’s their legacy and I want to restore it if I can…”

“Aw, that’s sweet Casey…” April wrapped an arm around Cassandra and gave her a gentle squeeze, “If anyone can do that, it’s the great Cassandra Jones!”

“Thanks, Apes…”

“Raph?” Leonardo said with a gentle urgence, “You’re the last one. What do you want to do when we win?”

“I… it’s kinda stupid…” Raphael rubbed the back of his neck.

“We’ll be the judge of that.” Leonardo said, “Lay it on us!”

“I… kinda wanna do a secret santa gift exchange.” Raphael admitted, “One where we all make the presents and don’t just buy the first cheap thing we see. You know… something more special…”

Leonardo smiled widely. “That’s not stupid at all, hermano. In fact? I think that’s the best one yet!”

#wishes #the calm before the storm #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #curse of the clan!

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 4 years

Text

Stardust and Starfish ~ Chris Beck x Reader

A/N: Hi my lovelies! I hope you’re all doing well in these crazy times. I hope you are staying safe and healthy.I apologize for the radio silence. I’ve had a lot going on, and I haven’t been able to really write anything. But I’m trying to chug along, and I’m focusing on finishing out my WIPs, so hopefully I’ll have more to share with you soon.

Without any further ado, this is a fic for my Whippersnapper Daughter @captainscanadian ‘s CBC 1K Writing Challenge, which I was supposed to complete a million years ago, but I didn’t quite manage it. So here you are love, I hope you enjoy. This is my first time writing Chris Beck. I’ve never seen the Martian. I literally only know that he’s a fluffy space nerd (at least based on fics), so hopefully this is okay.

Enjoy!

Prompt: “Hey we kissed once in kindergarten but I haven’t seen you since and I couldn’t remember why you were so familiar.”

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, I think that’s it.

Word Count: 3251

Ahh graduation. A time of endings. A time of beginnings. A time for throwing caution out the window and kissing boy you’ve had a crush on all year.

You were clutching your diploma as you dodged around the other graduates looking for one classmate in particular. You finally spotted him munching on a handful of goldfish by the refreshment table.

“Hi, Rocket!”

“Hi, Bubbles!”

“Oh there you kids are. Come on. Get close. We need a picture.”

“Smile, Chris!” his dad coaxed before shuffling the two of you together.

“Big smiles!”

You each threw an arm around the other grinning wildly.

“Say, I’m ready for first grade.”

“I’m ready for first grade!” you both chorused.

“Well, we should get going. We’ll go get your stuff. Say goodbye to Chris, sweetie.”

“Okay, Mom!”

You hugged him tight.

“I just wanted to say that I really like you and I really like your book of stars.”

“Thanks! I really like your book about the ocean!” He grinned, blue eyes lighting up.

Before you could chicken out you leaned forward and pecked him on the lips like you’d seen your mom do with your dad whenever she said goodbye.

Chris squeaked in surprise and went rigid and red as a tomato. Before either of you could say anything your mom returned with your backpack.

“Y/n, honey, time to go.”

“Okay. Bye, Chris! Have fun at camp! See you next year.”

“See you,” he waved absent-mindedly, still wide-eyed.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” your best friend whined as she waited for you to finish feeding your starfish.

“We’ll be fine. The talk doesn’t start until five.”

“It’s four-fifty.”

“Seriously? Shit okay. This is the last tank.”

You tossed in the mix of their food, scrubbed your hands before following AJ out of the lab.

You raced to the auditorium halfway across the campus, grateful for the reserved seats Casey had promised you. You looked around for the postdoc in question once you’d settled in, and you spotted her at the edge of the stage chatting with the distinguished speaker, Dr. Chris Beck.

“You’re staring,” AJ whispered. “Are you crushing on the guest speaker too?”

”He just seems really familiar,” you muttered back, squinting.

“I mean he has been all over the news for the past few years.”

“No, it’s like I’ve met him before.”

“Maybe you saw him during your sting at Yale?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

You weren’t totally convinced but it made the most sense, even though you were pretty sure that your times didn’t overlap.

Before you could think too much more about it, the dean of the medical school started introducing him. Not that he needed it.

You, and nearly everyone else, were completely captivated by Dr. Beck. When it was announced at the end of the talk that Dr. Beck would be taking the equivalent of a sabbatical at the university and teaching a short seminar series starting in the Spring the excitement was palpable.

“I can’t believe astro-hottie is joining the faculty,” AJ giggled.

“I know right. That’s going to be fun.”

The crowd was slow to exit the auditorium, and you were surrounded by excited chatter.

“So do you want food first or should we try to score an intro?”

“Food. I’m sure he’ll be swarmed for a while. Besides, Casey is his host, I’m sure she’ll get us a chance to talk to him.”

“Perks of being friends with astrophysics postdocs.”

“True.”

After the formal dinner with the grad students and postdocs, Chris was enjoying himself so much that some of them continued the evening at a pub just down the road from the campus. He had been happily listening his company discuss some of his more interesting results when he happened to notice you walk in. You had changed into a short black dressed and donned a deep blue leather jacket against the cold.

Casey noticed his distraction and silently cheered. Clearly the newest faculty member was interested in her friend, and judging by your reaction to him at the reception you were interested as well, so she excused herself to join you at the bar.

“Hey, Case. How’s it going?” You greeted her.

“Good. Didn’t expect to see you two here tonight.”

“We were supposed to go to the new restaurant down the street, but they lost our reservation,” AJ explained.

“So, we decided to keep it low key,” you continued.

“Gotcha. Well, do you want to join us?”

“Who’s us?”

“A few of the ones who went to dinner and Chris.”

She glanced over her shoulder and you and AJ followed her line of attention.

“Oh, so it’s Chris now?” you smirked, though it faltered when he caught your eye and smiled.

“He told us to. He’s really chill actually. You should come hang out,” she pressed.

“We’d love to,” AJ answered for you.

“Great. Grab your drinks and come over.”

She happily flounced back to the table, rejoining the conversation.

“AJ,” you hissed.

“What? Are you gonna tell me you don’t want to hang out with hunky space doctor you made goo goo eyes at all afternoon?”

“I did not make goo goo eyes at him.”

Your best friend rolled her eyes.

“Yes you did. Y/n, come on. Live a little. It’s just a few beers with a bunch of grad students.”

You looked at them, listening intently as he spoke. It looked more like a study group than anything which put you at ease.

“They’ve been talking for like five hours. I’m sure it will break up soon and then we can just hang out with Casey.”

“Okay. That sounds good.”

“Good,” she grinned before leaning on the bar to order your drinks.

You discretely checked out your hair in the mirror behind the bar and swiped on a bit of lip gloss.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” AJ smirked as she handed you your gin and tonic.

“Shush.”

You bumped your hip against hers as you made your way to the table.

There was a pause in the conversation as you approached.

“There you are. Come sit.”

AJ had already taken the one open seat next to James, the med student she had been crushing on, which left you to join Dr. Beck on the bench seat. He scooted over to give you more room when you sat down.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiled shyly.

You momentarily got lost in his eyes.

“Did you three meet earlier?” Casey asked, breaking you out of the moment.

Heat clawed up your neck in embarrassment. Though you were relieved to see Dr. Beck seemed equally flustered. He cleared his throat twice as he bobbed his head in the affirmative.

“Yes, Y/n and AJ right?”

“Yes. So, Dr. Beck, what were you all discussing?”

“First of all, please call me Chris. And second, we were discussing my research on the effect of zero gravity on muscle development.”

“Fascinating.”

You were easily caught up in the conversation as he explained his results and discussed data sets. His passion for research seemed to pour out of him. The discussion was lively, although you found yourself dominating the conversation. It contrasted nicely with your own research on technology for deep sea research. You were so invested that you didn’t notice the others leaving. At least not until they rang the bell for final call and you actually paid attention to your surroundings.

“Umm, when did everyone leave?”

Chris looked as confused as you were.

“I have no idea. I guess I am boring. I hope they don’t do that when I start lecturing next semester,” he chuckled.

“I’m sure they won’t. You’re an excellent presenter. Probably they got tired of me monopolizing you. Sorry about that,” you sighed as you played with a straw wrapper.

“Please don’t apologize. I was actually hoping to get a chance to talk to you.”

“Really?”

You wanted to smack yourself for the hopeful tone.

“Yes. I was disappointed when you left the reception early.”

“Oh, well, one of the octopuses next door escaped and that’s no good for anyone in the department.”

“I can imagine.” He smiled crookedly as the few patrons remaining started to pay their tabs.

“I guess we should go,” you pointed out reluctantly.

“Yeah. We should,” he agreed.

You both closed out and exited the bar.

“So, do you want to split an Uber?” he offered.

“I don’t live far. I was actually going to walk it.”

Chris looked appalled.

“It’s three in the morning.”

“I’ve done it before,” you argued.

He appraised you closely, trying to determine how stubborn you were. The conclusion… very.

“Can I at least walk you back then?”

“You don’t have to,” you assured him.

“I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t know you made it home safely. Please?”

He pouted at you. Who could resist those blue eyes?

“You really don’t…”

“I want to,” he admitted. “I uhh I’m not quite ready for the night to be over.”

Your answering smile was wide.

“In that case, I could use the company.”

“Excellent. Lead the way,” he offers you his elbow.

You looped your arm through his and started walking back towards your apartment.

You made the five minute walk in companionable silence. The feeling of familiarity had deepened over the course of the evening and you felt like you were walking with an old friend.

“Well, this is me,” you sighed, not ready to say good night.

“It was really nice getting to spend time with you, Y/n.”

“You too.”

“I know it’s late, and I’m sure that you want to get to bed, but would you mind terribly if I waited inside for my uber. I’m not sure how long it will be to get someone willing to go all the way to Hartford.”

“They have you staying in Hartford while you’re here?”

“They offered me a hotel room in New Haven, but I opted to stay with my folks. Wasn’t planning on closing down a bar after my talk,” he smirked.

You debated for a moment.

“I have a guest room. You are welcome to stay if you like. I have to go to Hartford tomorrow, so I could drive you back if you want.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not. I promise. You’re never going to get an uber that far this late.”

“If you really don’t mind. That would be great.”

“Come on in.”

You unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, leaning on the edge of the couch to take off your boots.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?”

Before he could respond, your stomach growled for an embarrassingly long time. He bit back laughter.

“Well apparently I am.”

You looked at your stomach as if it were a traitor.

“I could eat.”

“Alright, let’s see what I have. It’s been a while since I went food shopping.”

Chris smiled as he took in the warm surroundings, and he found himself drawn to the art on the walls next to your desk. He could hear you rummaging around in your refrigerator while he tried to figure out why he recognized the image.

“So I threw in a frozen pizza and I’ve got Oreos.”

You shook the pack at him as you planted yourself on the couch.

“Excellent.” He grinned, joining you on the couch and taking a cookie. “That print is amazing. Where did you get it?”

“It’s figure 3A in my Nature paper. I had it blown up when it made the cover.”

“That’s why I recognize it. That was an excellent paper.”

“Thank you. It certainly has been a highlight of my career so far.”

“So what drew you to marine biology?”

“I was obsessed with the ocean as a kid. And adventure books. I wanted so desperately to explore the part of our world that’s so vast and unknown. I wanted to work on a submarine or at least at sea.”

“So how did you end up in a lab on land?”

“I did a semester at sea which was amazing but permanent spots on research ships and subs are few and far between. But I am also working with the engineering department on deep sea equipment.”

“Hence your expertise in muscle mass in high pressure.”

“Precisely.”

You chewed on an Oreo thoughtfully as you regarded him.

“So, why did you become a space doctor? It’s not the most traditional job in the world,” you mused.

“I suppose it isn’t. Well I wanted to be astronaut first. Like you, I was obsessed with space from really early on. But as I got older I grew to love physiology and anatomy over engineering for example. For a little while, I thought I’d have to give up my dream. And then I realized they had flight surgeons.” He smiled at the memory. “So I worked my butt off and ended up actually going into space.”

Chris shifted leaning his head back and looking up as if he could see the stars through your ceiling. You propped your head in your hand as you leaned on the back of the couch.

“Is it surreal being back on earth?”

“That’s a good word for it.” He let his head loll to the side to look at you. “I’m glad to be home, but it’s so strange. Sometimes I spend all day in my room because I forget I can leave. And noises of the city – that’s trippy after months in space.”

“I bet.”

Your conversation flowed easily as you scarfed down the pizza. The sun came up and you were still talking.

You’re not sure how or when, but you must have fallen asleep talking, because you woke up tucked under a blanket on your couch to the smell of pancakes.

“Good morning,” Chris called, when he saw your head pop up.

“Morning. What time is it?” you asked, rubbing at your eyes.

“A little after eleven.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Since around eight.”

You stopped mid-stretch to stare at him.

“We didn’t fall asleep until like 5.”

“I’m still used to really short sleeping shifts. I hope you don’t mind. I made breakfast.”

“I do not mind at all.”

After washing up and changing into some fresh clothes, you enjoyed breakfast together.

“So what do you have to do in Hartford?” he asked, taking the clean plate from your hands to dry it.

“Going to visit my sister and my favorite baby nephew.”

“Aww. How old is he?”

“Four. So not actually a baby, but…”

“I get it. What time do you need to leave?”

“Around one.” You shrugged. “We’ve got time.”

“Thank you for letting me stay. Last night was wonderful,” he added, quietly.

“Yes, it was.”

“This might sound strange, but I feel like I’ve met you before.”

You froze, water spilling off the plate.

“Sorry, that was weird,” he mumbled quickly avoiding eye contact.

“No. No, it’s not that.” You dropped the plate into the sink and turned off the water. “I thought the same thing when I saw you.”

“Oh thank god.”

“AJ was convinced it was just because I’d seen you on the news. But if you feel it too…”

“But where we would have crossed paths?”

He crossed his arms as he considered it.

You spent the next twenty minutes trying and failing to find a single place you might have run into each other.

“Junior Leadership Conference?”

“In D.C. in 2014?”

“Yeah.”

You racked your brain.

“It must be that, right?”

“I can’t think of anywhere else.”

“Huh.”

You both watched each other, not quite believing it, but also unable to come up with a better answer. You let it stand as you got ready to drive to Hartford.

“Do you mind grabbing the books off the front table?” You grabbed your keys and your bag. “I don’t want to forget them.”

“Sure thing.”

He shuffled through the pile of children’s books, smiling when he came across the National Geographic First Big Book of the Ocean as you walked to your car.

“Oh these books were awesome.”

“Which one?”

“Big book of the ocean.” He held it up for you to see. ”I had all of them, but the space one was my favorite when I was a kid.”

“I’m shocked,” you deadpanned as you started the car.

He mock glared at you.

“No but seriously, I took the space one with me everywhere. I was obsessed. In kindergarten, the other kids started calling me-“

“Rocket,” you murmured.

“Good guess.”

“Not a guess. I know how we know each other,” You announced, desperate to look at him, but keeping your eyes straight ahead. “You went to Aldrin Elementary for Kindergarten didn’t you.”

“Yeah. Wait,” He looked at the book in his hands before opening to the back cover.

“Rocket and Bubbles,” he hummed, running his fingers over the crayon scrawl. “I can’t believe it. It’s you.”

You glanced at him at a stoplight. He had a fond look in his eyes.

“I knew you were familiar. But I don’t remember your name being Chris. Even before we started calling you Rocket.”

He bit his lip rocking slightly in embarrassment.

“I convinced my mom to let me go by my middle name Richard, which I made into Ricky, because there were four other Chris’ in our class.”

“Oh my god. That’s right. You were Ricky the Rocket. We thought we were so funny.”

Neither of you could contain your smiles.

“What happened? Why did you leave?”

“My dad had to move to Boston for his job. We didn’t find out until like a week before school.”

“I thought about you for the longest time. I was so bummed when you didn’t come back.”

“I was too. I cried all the way to Boston.”

“And now, all these years later.”

“Together again.”

You reached over and took his hand, and he twined your fingers.

You were both quiet for the rest of the ride, lost in thought. You only spoke to ask directions to his parent’s place, which you remembered quite well.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?”

“I would love that. Tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be there with bells on.”

You bit your lip as you both hesitated, before you leaned across the armrest and kissed him. His eyes went wide and his cheeks turned pink, and you suddenly didn’t know how you ever failed to recognize him.

“You looked the same way the first time I kissed you,” you giggled.

“Not my fault you keep surprising me.”

“You’re cute when you’re mmf.”

You were cut off by his lips on yours. The kiss was passionate and you felt yourself melting into it as his hand cradled the back of your head.

“You were saying…” he smirked at you when you both pulled back panting.

You started to respond when you looked over his shoulder.

“That your mom totally just saw us making out in my car.”

He glanced over his shoulder before letting his head drop in embarrassment when his shocked mother turned on her heel and hurried into the house with her groceries.

“On that note. Six o’clock tomorrow?”

“You’re on, Rocket.”

“See you, Bubbles.”

He pecked you once more on the lips before getting out of the car, whistling his way up the walk.

You smiled to yourself as he waved from the porch and you drove off.

This was going to be an adventure. Your biggest yet.

A/N: Yeah, so this ended up very differenlty from how I planned, but I hope you all enjoyed! I had fun writing Chris Beck. Congrats again on the milestone that was like 3 milestones ago lol. Love you @captainscanadian

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#cbc1kwc #CBC 1K Writing Challenge #Chris Beck x Reader #Chris Beck Oneshot #Chris Beck x Reader Oneshot

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pinktatertots99 · 3 years

Photo

similar to the last fankids i made a batch for my uh...universes i’ve been making. these kiddos are from an alternate. i’ll make the post in a bit but lets intriduce these kiddos first, including a returning face.

________________

your name is lellek vantis. your the child of three of the founders of your world. your described as a crybaby and not good at making friends except for your moirail canope. your like watching ghilbi movies, sewing with your ‘auntie’ jade (not really sewing you just take a leftover felt and pierce the needle through it but it’s a nice destresser) or listening to lo-fi tunes with ‘uncle’ dave.

-------------------

your name is july (jewel-ee) crocker. your the future president...of the crocker company. you have a facination in making sweets just like your mama and dad-uh-you mean ‘uncle’ gam gam, least that’s what they want you to call him...for now. when your not in your first grade class’s poking your sarcastic fun at misume your either dressing up with your cousin dandy and casey, at your mama’s bakery or seromoning gam gam’s church events whilst eating goldfish crackers and 7up...don’t tell gam gam he uses it for his converting events.

=======================

your name is misume serket and you wish to become an adventurer! your lussus gave you a couple stories of the famous mindfang, along with your auntsus (aunt lussus) when she’s back from her space adventurers to encourage your determination to get out by her own stories! you can’t now, but you hope to find her in your dream bubbles, cause hey dead people are there so that means she has to be too! meanwhile your busy doing boring first grade class’s and messing with july and your weird ass friendgroup that you only know cause of meetups.

+++++++++++++++++++

your name is canope. you have a facination for the magics thanks to your auntie rox and mumsie reading your auntie’s books to you. your also a fan of all the wizard of oz movies, your not sure how some fear the second movie it seems fine to you. your the moirail of lellek and do your best as the older moirail to get her into nice situations to have some fun in!

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your name is eonape leijon. you love to fly, which is funny cause your olive bloods aren’t known for flying unless their falling, but falling you do not want you feel the urge to fly! so your busy learning to become a mechanic with your unsus (uncle lussus) equius to help you out while your lussus is out and about on her job. your flying love goes all the way back to the troll show jayjay the jet and movie plane’s 2 which you’ll still watch from time to time. your the moirail of hosani and rather energetic in her antics.

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your name is hosani nitram. your the school bully of earcth’s elementary and like to torment good ol lellek just to get a reaction...unless her creepy af moirail or she screams happens but thankfully she’s too dumb to remember to use it. sides your trying to show a message that you won’t give a fuck who mess’s with you, no god’s child no highbloods, you got shit to pay to those higher ups despite your pops and uncle telling you not to. but in your meantime your busy hanging with your bud playing fiduspawn in your treehouse for the coolest of low trolls and checking in on your neighborhood critters, mostly the squeakrrles.

/////////////////////

your name is dandy egbert and your one fashionable dude. your well known in your class for coming in with different outfits everyday. somedays your a cowboy, others your sporting the sombrero, or feeling spicy you put in your trollsona’s cosplay. your a fan of many genre’s but you like the specific times they were shot like the 70′s and 80′s now THOSE had some sweet cinematography. your considered an ‘old timer’ despite almost being 10 but your pop’s kinda likes it, he says it’s a better hobby then clown figurine collecting...sounds familiar. your sister also gets in on it too dressing in attire related to the theme, she’s the true MVP as kids call it these days.

==> be the male seadweller. your name is eiseel english ampora and no before you ask their not together you just have a very weird family tree where mister ampora considers himself your ‘legal lussus’ but you spend most your time with mister jake and your matesprit’s ‘legal lussus’ aradia in the outdoors traveling and getting many injuries that makes ampora’s reactions humorous. you like the outdoor’s but your more of a tech guy if anything, carrying around a small electric line so you can chat with your bud’s and play match 3 puzzle rpg games. you wish you could live with your matesprit and his totally cool other guardian sol. you also have a weird facination for neon green, but ampora through a fit once so your sticking with an almost jade green, maybe mister jake’s fashion sense was getting to ya.

==> be the female seadweller. your name is reefay peixes. your a selectively mute girl who does fanfiction commissions...least for your moirail eiseel of his gold-blood self insert falling for his matesprit’s DnD sea mage character. you hope to become an author someday as your art skills aren’t up to snuff yet. your a fan of romcom’s and magical girl series bout friendship and subtle but obvious gayness, or maybe your glass’s count as shipping goggles who knows.

‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘

your name is anneck captor megaido and no your lussus’s aren’t together either...least you think? it’s simple but complicated just like mister captor who, despite being your caretaker your busy making sure he take his medication and help himself health wise as the pressing leader of earcth’s electrical unit of the whole world. thankfully not the universe otherwise you’d have bigger issues. despite some raising a brow at how you live in a humid basement full of electric units and one king bee (hehe) sized mattress you don’t mind really. your not one to go out for long which is why your not in the outdoors 24/7 with your actual lussus guardian, despite your matesprit wishing you would but most likely so you can bandage his reckless behind up.

<------------------------->

your name is haileq strider. your usually on a husktop in your dad’s workshop when he’s busy constructing the new mechanical machinery he and miss harley work on. you don’t have a hobby other then scrolling social media’s boredly with your inability to make a friend without being awkward bout it, even worse try to confess your flushed feelings for yal-...wait she shouldn’t say it oh fuck don’t send-

`````````````

your name is yale H attahock. your from an adopted carapacious family with two doting mom’s who have a habit of scratching your ears. your the ‘mom friend’ of your semi-blood family’s group of kids but it doesn’t help they keep running around town getting into mischief while the others watch from the sky, someone has to be eyes on the ground! otherwise you like to play soccorfoot in your school’s team the ‘hot dogs’ (funny your the leader but they made that decision to name it that.) or playing joystick games with your...’cousin’ who loves to banter in your playful family-esque relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your name is jaspjoir also called JJ or ‘jasper jr’ on accident in some papers. your also from a carapacious family of your silly sweet pops’. your one for fashion thanks to your old mans and love for a good firework display and a hint of magic performances. you also like to have a good ol time teasing your cous with how lone of a wolf he is after certain events but you do have a soft spot for the kiddos he watches, especially lil ol july. you hope to play a game soon with your dear ol cousin and some of his lil friends sometime, sooner then later you hope ;3.

#homestuck #HS #home stuck #fan kids #fan kid #fan child #fan children #fan character #fan characters #fan character's #au #my art #my ocs #my oc #ocs #oc #bittersweet vers au #i made this

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slasherscream · 5 years

Note

May I request just fluffy Stu Macher Headcanons thanks bb

you know… EXACTLY what i’m into thank you

stu macher x reader ft. // cotton candy fluff

You really lucked out on the sweet slasher boyfriend jackpot because despite having dumb frat boy energy Stu is super sweet.

Baby all he wants to dooooo is take care of yoooou. Never-mind that he’s barely taking care of himself and he’s probably killed like every pet he’s ever had (All goldfish because….look at him…his parents know what he’s about).

He’s genuinely a good boyfriend I’m not kidding though.

He cares about what you care about. Your interests? Memorized. All your favorite things? Memorized. When you talk? He’s actually listening (Most of the time. His attention span can be shitty sometimes but he tries). Fuck the preconceived notions you may have coming into this relationship baby he's obsessed (literally)!

Also he’s got gasp emotional intelligence. Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s oblivious. Far from it actually. He notices a lot. He's a people person.

Probably revealed that he knew something personal about you without you ever communicating that thing to him within your first couple of meetings/real true hang outs. Didn’t mean to do that. Oops.

You were just finally paying attention to him and he may have gotten caught up in the easy-going, relaxed energy you had blossoming between you two. Sue him!

Luckily it was something he could play off as just being really into you and not being a stalker. But just so we’re clear? He is, unfortunately, both.

There’s no better feeling than seeing him after a long day because he’s such a puppy about it. You could be gone for five minutes and he’d react as if you'd been gone for weeks if he was feeling particularly needy. Swept up into a big bear hug and swung around for a solid five minutes. He just wants to hold you.

Everyone knows he’s whipped and he wouldn’t have it any other way. If someone feels the need to comment his whole tongue will roll out his mouth and he’ll just go, “Yeah Jealous?”

He knows your relationship is absolute #Goals and everyone should be very jealous.

There’s a lot more quiet moments between you two in private than anyone might think. This is Stu so it’s not much but it’s more than anyone, you included, would have guessed there’d be.

He’ll flop himself down onto your lap and lay there quietly while you run your hands through his hair and it’s peaceful. For an entire ten minutes you’re both blissed-out on each other’s presences, no words exchanged. Then he opens his mouth and the calm mood is obliterated.

He likes that you’re so close to one another. Anytime he learns something new about you or you share some secret facet of your personality he could explode.

He’s your open book, baby! You’ll know everything about him within like … three dates tops because his business is your business. So of course he wants to know everything about you please tell him everything about you.

His failed relationship with Casey (that he was surprisingly invested in) and Tatum (not quite as invested in) have taught him one thing and it’s that if you’re not best friends with your partner there’s no point. Takes great pride in knowing you better than anyone.

He’s gonna start beef with your best friend over some stupid shit. “Their favorite color is actually (ridiculously specific micro shade of a color because he’s just being annoying).” He’s half joking and half not.

He loves that you take him seriously but also loves that he can be his usual goofy self with you. As long as you know there's more to him than big grins and bad jokes he could give a damn about anyone else.

A more protective boyfriend? Doesn't exist. Especially wonderful because he knows the difference between what's tolerable and what isn't when it comes to this trait. There's not a bone of "within reason" in his body, don't get it twisted. But he was born to be wild and he'd hate to stifle you or make you feel trapped. While he may dream of stringing people he doesn't like around you up by the neck? If you're happy he's happy. For the most part, that is.

You absolute hype-man for absolutely everything. Nailed a test? Of course you did, babe! You're a genius! Look especially good today? He's chasing you down the hall while obnoxiously whistling and panting in a way that has somehow become endearing.

A man that wants, nay needs, to show you off at all times. He will always eventually do or say something to make you the center of attention because he thinks you deserve it. "You're like...a fucking shining star babe. Babe where are you going? Come back I was just telling everyone about that time you-"

Matching outfits because he's a fashion icon. The man knows your size by heart so if he sees something while he's out that he thinks you'll like he can buy it and present it to you like a cat presents dead things to its owner. Look at this! He's providing! Do you like it?

Would you like dead things instead? Things that once made up parts of living things? Would you like the eyes of that asshole who had the nerve to roll them at you while you were talking yesterday? No? Hmm... well.....awkward because... never-mind... In the trash they go.

Says I love you early on into the relationship but if you knew just how long he'd been holding it back you'd congratulate him for his self control. Doesn't mind you not saying it back immediately because (it's not like you're going anywhere) he's just that sweet. Besides! You won't be able to resist him long. He's pulling out all the stops to make sure you can't.

If your type is clingy boys with zero (0) impulse control who just want all your attention all the time? And would kill to get it? This is heaven.

#stu macher x reader #stu macher imagine #stu macher #slasher imagine #slashers #horror imagine #stumacherstan #LOVE ME THIS DUMB BLONDE HEART THROB

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your-dietician · 3 years

Text

Giving Birth During the Pandemic, Calif. Wildfire Evacuation

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/giving-birth-during-the-pandemic-calif-wildfire-evacuation/

Giving Birth During the Pandemic, Calif. Wildfire Evacuation

Illustration: by Lucy Jones

Smoke plumes over the parched hillside as we load up our two cars for our first wildfire evacuation: passports and a few bags, one neurotic pit bull and six very disgruntled barn cats. At the last minute, we toss in some baby essentials (car seat, co-sleeper) — but surely, surely we’ll be back home before we need them. Nearby, two wild turkeys peck at the new fire break, unperturbed by the human frenzy, the gathering of domestic animals, the churning of fields.

It’s August 2020. And I am 36 weeks pregnant.

A week earlier, we’d been counting our blessings — the sort of feel-good California nonsense that ran contrary to every fiber of my jaded New Yorker soul. But on that deceptively bright afternoon, I’d indulged. First on the list was our home: my husband’s family ranch in the Santa Cruz mountains where we’d moved from Brooklyn three years before.

Like so many “classic” journeys West, ours had begun in a quixotic vein. On paper, it was a job offer for my then-boyfriend, now-husband, but the impulse ran deeper than that. We were both fed up with New York for the reasons 30-something artists often are: a growing disillusionment with our respective industries; the churn of yuppification driving our friends from the neighborhoods they themselves had gentrified not long ago; the pervasive sense that there’s always someone younger than you dying to do the same thing for less. And so, we wanted to embark on a new adventure together, something utterly different — and what could be more different than trading cramped city living for bucolic rolling hills? The ranch itself held an almost mythic status for my husband. It was the childhood kingdom where he once visited his uncle and grandmother and played out his Tolkien fantasies; the steady rock of home after his parents got divorced.

But, it turns out, we’d come to California in the end times. The apocalypse grew starker the farther west we drove. When we passed through Montana, the big sky clogged with smoke as fields burned alongside the highway. As we wound down the Oregon coast, the heat sizzled. We reached the ranch on the hottest day in San Francisco history. We drove down to the beach to escape the heat—only to find a small brush fire blocking our path. The Bay Area of my husband’s childhood was in its death throes. Destroyed by tech bros and venture capitalists and, most irrevocably, by climate change. Since our arrival, the Golden State has seen its population decline for the first time on record.

Living out in all that damn nature — a 25-minute drive from just about anything — felt claustrophobic. I missed home. I yearned to hop on the subway. Trade gossip with the self-proclaimed mayor of my block. Stumble home and stop, shame-faced, at the corner bodega for a bag of expired Goldfish crackers. Engage with that pulsing, beating, bleating hum of humanity that is New York City.

But there’s nothing like a global pandemic to make you see the value of wide-open spaces. To find the beauty in sunburnt grasses. To see the hills dotted with live oaks not as yellow but as gold. To watch the fog unfurl like dragon smoke and think — this, perhaps this can be enough.

The second blessing we’d been fool enough to name was my “easy” pregnancy. I’d been 15 weeks pregnant when COVID-19 shut down the state. My in-person appointments migrated to video. I purchased a scale and a blood-pressure cuff; I dutifully reported the results every month. By and large, I felt pretty good. Healthy. But this fiction, too, was about to go up in flames. The temperatures soared, the barn cats’ fur crackled, my feet ballooned.

The morning of our evacuation, I have my first in-person OB/GYN appointment in months. By this point, I’m accustomed to the realities of a pandemic pregnancy. The strange disconnect when I talk to anyone who gave birth before COVID-19, who never worried if their partner would be allowed into the delivery room, or Googled “will the hospital separate me from my newborn if I test positive for COVID?” In the empty waiting room, the “don’t sit here” printouts have vanished along with the chairs that accompanied them. The pandemic has dragged on for five months, and the furniture has adjusted itself accordingly.

The doctor gives me bad news — the baby is in breech. The hard, round protrusion jutting beneath my rib cage is, indeed, the baby’s head, not his rump as I’ve been trying to convince myself for weeks. We schedule a version— a procedure where a doctor tries to turn the baby right-side down — for the following Friday.

Who was I to think that my body wouldn’t betray me?

There’s something else, too. My blood pressure clocks in at 151 over 97. The chatty nurse grows quiet. She looks at me, then back at the reading. She asks if I was rushing to get here. If I suffer from white-coat syndrome. With the cocky self-assurance of a person young enough and lucky enough to believe that their body won’t betray them, I tell the nurse I’m stressed. We’re under evacuation warning. By the time she straps the cuff back on after the appointment, my blood pressure has returned to normal.

Preeclampsia, the dangerous and maddeningly enigmatic condition that my high blood pressure augurs, has plagued (wo)mankind since the dawn of history. Back in the fifth century B.C.E., Hippocrates blamed it, along with so many other lady ailments, on the wandering womb. In the intervening two and a half millennia, doctors haven’t figured out the cause. The prevailing theory is that the problem starts in the placenta, the organ that nurtures the fetus in the womb: In women with preeclampsia, the blood vessels that form to deliver oxygen to the placenta are too narrow. In its efforts to feed the growing baby, the body kicks into overdrive. Your blood pressure skyrockets; your kidneys falter; your liver might fail. In the worst cases, the “pre” vanishes and you “progress” to eclampsia — seizures which can be deadly to both mom and baby.

Preeclampsia is characterized by a list of associations that often border on patient-shaming: risk factors include poor diet, obesity, diabetes, and chronic hypertension. For complex reasons that likely involve structural racism, unconscious bias, and biological weathering, Black women in America develop and die from preeclampsia at significantly higher rates than white women do.

Returning, then, to my certainty that I am perfectly well, high blood pressure or no, thankyouverymuch. We could call it denial. We could also call it a particular cocktail of white, able-bodied, and socioeconomic privilege. After all, none of those risk factors applied to me.

Days later, as another nurse lines my hospital bed with bumper pads to protect me in case of seizure, I’ll wonder at my arrogance. Just two years earlier, my older sister dropped dead at 35. Who was I to think that my body wouldn’t betray me?

Almost exactly nine months after we first arrived in California, my sister Julia died, both suddenly and predictably. She was 35 and, by most outward metrics, in good health. But, as hard as she fought, she’d been gripped by both depression and alcoholism for over a decade.

In the months after Julia dies, wildfires flame up and down the state. Eight-five people perish as Paradise is razed to the ground. I try to work on my new novel, a cli-fi dystopia that offers little escape. I spend a lot of time sitting in a large wooden crate, socializing a litter of barn kittens. Sometimes, I meet Julia’s college roommate, Casey, in San Francisco. We go to coffee shops that are both like and unlike the ones I missed in Brooklyn. Places where using the bathroom requires an app and a QR code. The world is literally on fire, and this is what Silicon Valley innovation has to offer: the monetization of what should be public goods. Over burritos and tears, Casey tells me stories about her toddler son. Funny words that he’d string together, and how when she says they can’t go outside, he knows to respond: “Too smoky?”

The decision to have children has always struck me as an essentially selfish one: You choose, out of a desire for fulfillment or self-betterment or curiosity or boredom or baby-mania or peer pressure, to bring a new human into this world. And it has never seemed more selfish than today. From a global perspective, having a child in a developed nation is among the most environmentally unsound decisions you can make — a baby born in the United States adds another 58.6 tons of carbon to the atmosphere per year. (That wipes out the net positives of my 25 years of vegetarianism in roughly three months). On the individual level, as fires rage and hurricanes form, as water grows scarce and fields lie fallow, it’s hard not to wonder: What kind of future can we offer a child?

And yet. On some level we still believe that a baby, our baby, will bring the world, our world, so much more than his carbon footprint. On another, we believe, like so many before us, that a baby can be the only balm after a loss. That it will transform me from a bereaved sister to something new and alien: a mother.

The day we evacuate, in that now-annual tradition among Western states, Gavin Newsom declares a state of emergency. The fire that we’re fleeing is the smaller of two mammoth blazes threatening the state. A CalFire spokeswoman on TV advises that all citizens should be “ready to go” in case of wildfires. “Residents have to have their bags packed up with your nose facing out your driveway so you can leave quickly.”

We joke about how absurd it is that every single Californian should be living in a perpetual state of emergency preparedness. It isn’t funny.

The truth is that we’re the lucky ones. We won’t be sleeping in our cars outside Half Moon Bay High School, hoping that the Red Cross can find us a hotel room. We have a safe place to go that will accept us and our veritable menagerie in the middle of a pandemic. My in-laws live an hour’s drive away. And for once we’re grateful they’re on the far side of Santa Cruz.

On the individual level, as fires rage and hurricanes form, as water grows scarce and fields lie fallow, it’s hard not to wonder: What kind of future can we offer a child?

So we settle into our cushy evacuation digs. I check Twitter for updates on the fire lines. I lie upside down on a propped-up ironing board to encourage the baby to flip. I dutifully record my blood pressure twice a day. When I go into a local lab on Monday, I pass a woman around my age. Her hair mussed; her clothes rumpled. I overhear her tell the security guard that she is evacuated from Boulder Creek. Her house has already burned down.

The call comes late that afternoon. We’ve gone for a walk on the beach to distract ourselves. A brisk ocean breeze keeps the smoke at bay.

The OB tells me that I need to go to the hospital in two days and that I should be prepared to deliver. Depending on whether they can flip the baby, they will either induce labor or perform a C-section.

I press my hand against my stomach, cupping what I now know is my son’s head. I dig my heels into the sand. I know with every fiber of my being that this child is not ready to be born. He has literally put his foot down. Wildfire evacuations? Smoke-clogged skies over the Bay? A global pandemic? Nah, thanks, Ma. I’ll stay inside.

Something primal stirs. A desperate need to protect this child — from the world, from the climate, from the overreach of litigation-fearing American doctors. This baby, I am convinced, does not want to come out. He needs a few more weeks inside. My lab work hasn’t even come back yet. Two high blood pressure readings? From a person evacuated from wildfires during a pandemic? And I feel fine.

So, for the first time in my life, I argue with a doctor, first patiently, then furiously. I tell her that I cannot possibly give birth in two days. That we’re evacuated. That we might not have a home to return to. That, as freelancers, we both lost a lot of work during the pandemic. That my husband, whose industry has been completely upended, has an enormous gig with a new client. That I can’t imagine waiting until Friday can make any difference. The doctor takes out the cudgel: “You need to stop worrying about money and start worrying about your baby.”

It is the first time anyone has pulled the “bad mother” card on me, though I’m sure it won’t be the last. I sputter. I am livid. I tell her we’ll be there.

Things at the hospital go well until they don’t. The baby flips; the cheerful dry-erase board is decorated with a beaming sun, the names of the on-duty nurse and physician, and the words “Preeclampsia: Mild.” The next morning, my blood pressure soars, and “mild” is replaced with “severe.” The blood-pressure cuff is now accompanied by a catheter and an IV that pumps me up with magnesium to reduce the risk of seizure. The bumper pads are up now, too.

The hospital, the beeping machines monitoring my vital signs, the proliferating IVs, it all reminds me too much of Julia. The three days I sat at her hospital bed — holding her hand, reading Redwall to her, so sure that she could hear me, that the stories we shared in childhood might somehow draw her back. So sure that she would pull out of her coma, that one day we would make macabre jokes about her hospital stay. That she wouldn’t die. That our story couldn’t end that way.

But here, in this hospital, the wool has lifted from my eyes. I now know how these stories end. And I am sure that one of us isn’t going to survive. It takes the last bit of my resolve not to tell my husband, in a fit of melodrama, to save the baby if the doctors have to choose. (In later, clearer moments, I realize that medicine doesn’t work that way. But in the throes of magnesium-laced labor, the brain latches to the cinematic.)

So much of what could go wrong does: The baby crowns but every time I push his heart rate drops. We try three more times with a suction cup fused to his head, the pediatrician’s eyes glued to the heart monitor, periodically shouting for me to stop pushing so a nurse can press the baby back inside and massage his heart rate up again. At some point, a switch is flipped, alarms blare: an emergency C-section. I’m rushed down the corridors amid flashing lights to the operating table. My husband abandoned in a delivery room awash in blood. Someone shouts back, “We’ll come back for you if we can.”

My son is wrenched from my seizing uterus — weak from the magnesium and letting out only the smallest cry. He is rushed to the NICU for oxygen and observation. But he lives. We live. And, in the end, we get to go home.

The night that Jude is born, our evacuation order is lifted. The fires that burn parts of Bonny Doon and Boulder Creek never reach the ranch. We are so very lucky. Even though I doubt that luck can last.

Although that future still terrifies me and part of me wants to disengage, to say “Let it burn” and “Fuck you” to all that, I can’t. I don’t have that luxury.

After the dust has settled, my father — my somehow still optimistic, boomer father — keeps talking about how crazy it will be for Jude to learn about the day he was born, in a pandemic while evacuated for wildfires. And all I can think is how much I wish Jude might grow up in a world where the summer of 2020 sounds aberrational. I suspect he won’t. As I write this, fires descend on Lake Tahoe, defying all efforts of containment, and Hurricane Ida has devastated the Gulf Coast. Headlines blare about “extreme” weather, and I wonder when the newspapers will lose the word “extreme.”

I know that the world in which Jude grows up will be plagued by more and more environmental disasters. That cataclysmic changes to the climate will exacerbate the other inequities we face as a nation and a planet. That we are living in a real way on borrowed time, under the shadow of carbon that’s already been released as more fossil fuel continues to burn and burn and burn.

Although that future still terrifies me and part of me wants to disengage, to say “Let it burn” and “Fuck you” to all that, I can’t. I don’t have that luxury. I have no choice but to believe that the future — troubled as it will be, stripped as it will be of my biting, brilliant sister — is still worth living in and fighting for. To believe not just in destruction, not just in accruing loss after loss after loss, but in counting blessings. Finding those small moments of joy. The smile on Jude’s face as he bashes his mouth into my cheek. “Boop,” I say as I tap his nose. The same sound Julia used to make when I tapped hers.

This isn’t the ending that I’m looking for. And it isn’t just an ending either. It’s a beginning, too. An often frightening one. And, for now, that has to be good enough.

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