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oldpunkfromda90s-blog · 2 years

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Lineages of Protest: A Brief Review Of, Reflection On, and Postscript to Season 1 of the podcast Mother Country Radicals By Chris White

Lineages of Protest:

A Brief Review Of, Reflection On, and Postscript to Season 1 of the podcast Mother Country Radicals

By Chris White

The first season of Zayd Dohrn’s podcast, Mother Country Radicals, is exceptional. First, in an era where everyone releases recordings of tired conversations into the world for 15 minutes of fame, it is well written, well produced, and well paced. My friend who told me about it said something to the effect of, “Have you heard that Serial podcast about the Weather Underground?” Zayd has such a unique intimate connection to the material and an access to people about a part of their lives that is closely guarded. And also, he discovers things in the reporting that he did not know or realize before. But also, I like it especially because it fills in a lot of context of both my family’s life and my own journey.

Zayd Dohrn is the oldest son of Bernadine Dohrn and William Ayers who were part of an underground, sometimes violent, direct action movement against U.S. Imperialism and racism beginning in the 60s.. He was born while his parents were still in hiding and grew up as they emerged from it.

William Ayers, once served on a foundation board with Barack Obama, and was therefore a central figure in the opposition research about Obama the candidate. My favorite tv moment during the 2008 election was the Saturday Night Live skit in which they portray William Ayers and Jeremiah Wright performing the Gnarls Barkley song Crazy.

One of the episodes, the fourth one I believe, describes the death of Diana Oughton in a Greenwich Village townhouse due to a bomb that exploded during manufacture. I first heard about Diana Oughton when I was in high school. I lived in my mother’s basement where one of her bookshelves was. There was a sensational biography of Diana Oughton next to an anthology of underground newspapers. My mom told me about almost getting kicked out of high school for distributing the newspaper and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for protests that Oughton was a part of.

Someone in the podcast says something to the effect of, “Those who do don’t tell and those who tell can’t do.” I assume that if Mother Country Radicals was a movie, my parents and some of my other relatives would be composite characters and extras. I imagine them in the closing credits with role names like Hippy Making Sandwiches #2 and Woman Living In Commune. But what do I know? None of them would want to have burdened me with any information nor would they have shared specifics about themselves or their friends.

When I was growing up in the 80s I remember the feeling that my parents were from the 60s. My mom has so many stories, but the accuracy of them is unclear. My dad mostly just says that it was a very difficult time and that it’s hard for him to think about.

In the 80s, there were a lot of cultural tropes about the 60s. There were reruns of Laugh In and The Monkees. I went through a period of being obsessed with The Beatles.

During my childhood, there were many pop culture references to groups like the Weather Underground and also to the Symbionese Liberation Army or SLA who were known for allegedly kidnapping and possibly recruiting the heiress Patty Hearst. The one I remember most vividly was a two part Laverne & Shirley episode. I saw the films Flashback and Rude Awakening in the theater which were both screwball comedies about radicals emerging from the underground into a world they struggle to understand. I wonder if the Dohrn Ayers family has ever seen either of these films, because I can almost hear their eyes rolling.

My parents met at a concert in Gallup Park in Ann Arbor organized by the 60s activist John Sinclair. It was the MC5 opening for Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen. Do you remember the end of Back To The Future where Michael J Fox has to play Johnny B Goode so his parents will kiss or else he will cease to exist? That’s how I feel about these two bands.

In particular, the stoner country stylings of Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen are particularly bizarre cultural artifacts. I have a live album in which they do an epic cover of the long form narrative country classic “Hot Rod Lincoln.” In this version, the singer has to convince the police officer that pulls him over that he is not some “long haired hippie S-L-A commie weirdo.” “I had to show him my house.”.

My parents have such very hippy wedding photos.They were two hippies that loved to cook and planned to get married and open a little hippy restaurant. And then they have the most awkward photo of my dad with a haircut and a shirt and tie with my mom in a sprawling apartment complex . At this point my dad has stopped being counter cultural and is being mentored in food service management by a man named Michael from whom I got my middle name. By the time I was born, my dad was an assistant manager at the Stouffer’s Restaurant at 666 Fifth Avenue in New York City.

In between, there are stories. There is the honeymoon where they attempt to hitchhike to California. My mom says that the Bay Area was exhausting, because my dad was constantly wandering off and she had to rescue him from being taken by cults. She says he would come up to her and say something like, “These guys in the van have these really good free burritos and they just want us to go with them so they can show us this really cool place.”

And after I was born, we eventually moved back to the Midwest, and my mom’s stories continue. They are of a different era. My dad took a job in Flint, Michigan, as the assistant food service manager of Hurley Hospital where part of his brand was that he went along to get along with his employees’ union. While the Fair Housing Act passed in 1969, our historically white Flint neighborhood was only just beginning to integrate in the 80s. And for my mom, what we would say in today’s anti-racist parlance is that she was recruited by black leaders to do the organizing and emotional labor with the parents who supported integration.

I did get taken to protests growing up. I remember seeing Jesse Jackson get in a heated exchange with police in Washington D.C at an Anti-Apartheid protest. during a family road trip. But more often, I was at community meetings and canvasses. Slow careful populist organizing was what I witnessed, not the frantic disruption of “Days of Rage.”

Meanwhile, the generation between us, perhaps the youngest siblings or older niblings of the Weather Underground, were supporting Latin American uprisings like the Sandinistas and attempting to infiltrate factories. One epicenter of this was the factories around me in Southeastern Michigan, and another was the textile factories in Greensboro, North Carolina.

Also, in Flint, you could see the traces of the old left. Every year, my cub scout troop would march in a parade with the surviving sitdown strikers who in 1936 occupied Chevy In The Hole, over by my house, and won recognition for the UAW.

About first grade, I had a friend Juanita, a white kid with a Latin name, who started coming over after school so her hippy mom could stay at work. And then in return, I would sometimes go over there or join them on camping trips. I only met her dad a couple times, but he was one of those leftists who had long hair, worked in the factory, and sold radical newspapers on street corners. Juanita and I got enrolled in a weekly Alvin Ailey style dance class at the arts center on the historically African-American side of Flint. We were the only white kids and I was the only boy in the class. I felt insecure about having to wear tights. I remember my Republican grandparents coming from Ann Arbor for the recital.

But the initial attempts to build left wing factions inside the UAW and in nonunion factories sputtered due partly to a lack of rank and file interest in leftist theory and also the intense wave of deindustrialization.The big auto companies slashed the Michigan workforce through automation, outsourcing parts and processes to nonunion suppliers, and also exporting jobs to Texas and Mexico I remember when the Detroit Tigers played a Texas Rangers home game and half the stadium was wearing Tiger hats. Michael Moore’s Roger & Me came out when I was in middle school and talked about how this process led to Flint falling apart and having more rats than people. These days, people who hear my wife and I spent part of our childhoods in Flint ask us about the water crisis, but that happened long after we had lived there. And also, the block I grew up on was devastated by disinvestment and abandonment years before the water crisis.

The water crisis in Flint is better understood when you look at what happened years earlier when Coleman Young was Mayor of Detroit. So many white families refused to live in a city with black leadership that Southeastern Michigan became a ring of suburbs who used and extracted resources from Detroit but fought viciously against any resources going into Detroit. It was a similar pattern of racism and neglect that lead to the takeover and mismanagement of Flint’s government and failed to continue the water treatment that had previously prevented lead from leaching into the taps.

There were some activists who got their coworkers involved in a stronger more authentic space in the labor movement, but it was from talking about occupational health and safety more than Marx and Lenin. There was also an organizing wave of “pink collar” office jobs that was informed by feminism and lead by the organization “9 to 5” which inspired Jane Fonda to help make the film 9 to 5 that I saw in the theaters.

Also, in 1979, a group of Greensboro counter protesters were shot and killed at a Klan rally, and the movement there scattered. Many of them would eventually be in the staff and/or leadership of unions and nonprofits I would later work with.

My parents split up, my mom got sick, and the late 80s found me in high school and living with her in affordable housing on the edge of the increasingly fluent Ann Arbor. My mom bought me an army surplus jacket like she used to wear as an SDS militant and I covered it in art and buttons. I started going to punk shows in a basement on Hill Street where bands like Green Day played a couple years before they became big names playing stadiums.

The first Gulf War led to a resurgence of radical youth organizing. A group of students at my high school threatened a walk out and then negotiated with the principal to have a “teach in” forum about the war instead. A member of the Bush Sr. cabinet flew in to speak in between our parents’ generation of anti war activists. The war, along with the collapse of Soviet Communism, led to a revival of interest in Anarchism.

But also, the collapse of the leftist movement in the factories devolved into what felt like fifty mostly white middle class students in sixty different partisan leftist organizations that constantly fought over a shrinking amount of attention. If you’ve ever seen the heated argument between the Judean People’s Front and the People’s Front of Judea in the Monty Python movie LIfe of Brian, then you know exactly what it was to sit in a cafe near the University of Michigan in the 80s and 90s watching stacks of rival leftist newspapers fall over each other while people argue about interpretations of Marxism while drinking expensive coffees..

Some of my friends went to the selective enrollment Community High School, Commie High, as it was affectionately called, was where there was an open campus, rampant alternative chic, students calling teachers by their first names, and other values and practices that seemed to come out of the 60s cultural space. However, most kids did not get into Community. There were so few spots and so much demand that at one point parents were literally camping out to be in line for enrollment. The kids in my mostly POC neighborhood disproportionately ended up in the mainstream high school which felt less pressure to reform because families with resources who wanted something different should just go to the alternative school. While Community High students could leave campus for any reason without penalty, an Ann Arbor police officer at my high school would literally hide in the bushes to bust you for doing the same.

That was a strange part of my upbringing. The values of intervention and attention to the disparities in the world that the Weather Underground wanted to address in solidarity with the Black Panthers and Black Liberation Army turned into a lot of spaces that were supposed to create a container for those values but became exclusive spaces for people who were mostly wealthy and white. One of the reasons that I got into punk was that between Grateful Dead tickets, organic cotton clothing, and high grade marijuana, I couldn’t really afford to be a hippy. Parents in Ann Arbor were very interested to read about neighborhoods like mine, but lost their freaking minds if the African American kid next door to me got in one little fight at their kid’s school. Being a white articulate poor person helped me get a lot of financial aid that allowed me to attend a small, high tuition “progressive” liberal arts college. We boycotted Pepsi over their involvement in Burma and took classes about Saul Alinsky, but we had very few African American students if any.

Meanwhile after the end of the Vietnam War, another wave of anti war activists calling themselves Movement For A New Society or MNS moved en masse to a working class neighborhood in West Philadelphia. The ones with means would buy some of the large houses that were dropping in price so that people could have an inexpensive room and the free time to be part of organizing. Many found jobs and leadership positions in the American Friends Service Committee, the social justice ministry of the Quaker Church. MNS and allied activists created a training institute, a book publisher, a food coop, a land trust, and other social and economic infrastructure that supported an activist lifestyle.

Meanwhile or a little later, a number of activists began taking over and squatting large tenement buildings on the Lower East Side of New York that had either been abandoned or kept vacant by speculators. Many were part of the punk rock or new wave art scenes. Some that left New York bought or squatted in Philadelphia and enjoyed the immense infrastructure that Movement For a New Society had built. One house I lived in off and on for 8 years, was a former squat that the residents had managed to purchase at a tax sale.

The new wave of anarchists that came out of opposition to the first gulf war during my high school years turned into, during my college years, what I jokingly refer back to as the golden age of anarchist franchise organizing. On weekends, I would hitch hike from my isolated college campus into town and end up sleeping on the floor of an activist household. This group of people had met at protests and conferences and moved there together. They bottomlined the regional or local chapters of Earth First, Food Not Bombs, Anti Racist Action, Radical Cheerleaders, radical library, 60’s poltical prisoner support group, books to prisoners project, etc. I started showing up and eventually traveled and visited projects across the country, especially in California’s Bay Area.

On New Years Day 1994, the Zapatista Army of National Liberation or EZLN rose up in arms to seize the land from the handful of wealthy families that owned most of the state of Chiapas in Mexico It was the first post Soviet revolution. This indigenous army, many of which had survived Reagan’s bloody intervention in the political tumult in neighboring Guatemala, immediately declared a ceasefire and attempted negotiations. People from across Mexico and the world organized support caravans and delegations of human rights observers. I would eventually spend time there in the late 90s. While the Mexican Government has mostly failed to honor its promises and conducted a low intensity war, the EZLN has mostly held on to the land and created a development model on its own terms lead by its own people.

After graduation and before and after my trips to Chapas, I ended up in West Philly. A Zagat review of my favorite neighborhood Eritrean restaurant described it as being in the “Anarchist Section of Philadelphia.” I was enticed to get the “West Philly Deal” which was the idea that if you moved to West Philly and joined the activist community you would get a cheap room, six romantic dates (or dried figs), a bicycle made out of spare parts, and a role in a band. Also, West Philly was where the Food Not Bombs (a movement of radical food distribution collectives) and ACT-UP chapters were becoming more diverse and having more traction with and ownership by affected communities of color, though progress was slow and not without problems. .

During my second trip to Chiapas, I missed the 1999 World Trade Organization Protest in Seattle. I had been traveling around the country going to different protests with what felt like the same 200 people and therefore had planned to go to Mexico instead. But then just about every other activist in North America was there as well as the activists who were about to take over SEIU, HERE, and the AFL-CIO. It was the zenith of the movements that had started organizing in reaction to the first Gulf War. I was then part of a number of follow up mega-protests though they seemed to dwindle in size and effectiveness.

The September 11th attacks seemed to change the political space in which movements operated. Also, the legal fallout from the protests at the 2000 Republican National Convention had taken years to clear up.

About that time, I’d heard that the janitors union needed someone bilingual in English and Spanish to help. I showed up and was shocked to learn that I was getting paid for a 9 week internship normally reserved for members. I had been surviving off of odd jobs and medical studies for five years and never been paid to be part of a movement (although protest movements had allowed me access to a lot of resources.) I stayed at the union for six years and then followed the man who hired me back into community organizing. Now twenty years have passed and I have bounced between paid labor organizing, community organizing, and fair housing enforcement ever since .

And now my stepkids think I’m a strange old guy from the 90s. They think of me in a foggy photo of a sea of black denim of filthy white kids screaming along at a Los Crudos show in a Losaida Squat.(not that this happened all at once as far as I can remember). There’s a goofy clip of me on the news in Eugene Oregon in 1996 and a picture of me in a boxcar a few days later wearing a shirt with a Propagandhi patch.These look so retro now, but to me that was almost yesterday.

I’m hoping there will be more seasons of Mother Country Radicals. I would love for Season 2 to cover the era when middle class, mostly white, leftists coming of age in the 80s who supported left wing uprisings in Latin America tried to become factory workers. Maybe there could be prequel seasons about Alinsky and the Civil Rights Movement and the characters in Reds. Maybe I would be a background character in the season about the 90s.

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rustbeltadventure · 2 years

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Lineages of Protest: A Brief Review Of, Reflection On, and Postscript to Season 1 of the podcast Mother Country Radicals By Chris White

Lineages of Protest

A Brief Review Of, Reflection On, and Postscript to Season 1 of the podcast Mother Country Radicals

By Chris White

In the 80s, there were a lot of cultural tropes about the 60s. There were reruns of Laugh In and The Monkees. I went through a period of being obsessed with The Beatles.

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Surprise

Everyone was so nice about my first Dean fic, here’s a Sam one! Again, thanks in advance for any critiques or advice!!

Title: Surprise

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4904

Summary: Mostly fluffy, a little smut, some angst when the reader realizes she’s late.

Warnings: One smutty bit--separated by spacing, some light swearing, oblique mention of abortion, pregnancy

gif by study-of-supernatural

Dean tossed his phone onto the car seat next to him. “That thing in Cleveland sounds like vamps for sure. So we’ll just drop you off at the bunker on the way.”

You looked quizzically at him in the rearview mirror. “Drop me off? No, I want to come.”

Dean flicked his eyes up to the mirror to make eye contact. “Well you obviously can’t go hunt vampires right now, so, sorry.” He turned the key in the ignition and threw the Impala in reverse. Before he could back out of the parking lot, Sam stopped him.

“Dude, what? She’s hunted vampires with us dozens of times.”

“I’m not taking you to a vampire nest when you’re, you know, parting the red seas,” Dean addressed his response to you in the rearview mirror rather than Sam. “Too dangerous.”

“Oh my god,” you said under your breath, stunned. “You did not just say that.”

Sam’s eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, his lips parted while he tried to find something to say. Dean looked over at him in an exaggerated “what?” grimace.

“Dean, it is so fucking weird for you to know that,” Sam insisted.

“No it’s not, she was talking about cramps when we were at Jody’s a few months ago, it’s not that hard to keep track of 4 week chunks,” Dean tried to justify.

“We are not talking about this, Jesus Christ!” you snapped, startling both brothers. They turned in their seats to look back at you. “And Dean, not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I am not on my period.”

“Wait, yeah you are,” he started, ignoring your glare and the awkward tension building in the car. “We were in Sioux Falls for fourth of July on a Wednesday, then that would mean 4 weeks later was the witch in Nebraska, and two days ago was Wednesday. So that’s another 4 weeks,”

“Dean!” Sam interrupted, his hands thrown up in frustration. “What the hell?!”

“Again, and I don’t know how much more I can emphasize this, it’s none of your concern at all, but I’m not on my period and I will be coming to Cleveland,” you responded, leaning back in your seat to indicate that you would not be discussing the matter further. Dean sat for a moment before rolling his eyes and backing up out of the parking lot, seemingly having given in.

After a few moments, the implications of Dean’s too-keen observation started to sink in. You had been on your period at Jody’s, because you remembered being thankful that you weren’t in a grown-up magical frat house and rather a normal home with some other women for it. Normally you loved living with Sam and Dean, but there was a certain kind of comfort and camaraderie that only other people with periods understood. And his math was right, that would’ve been 8 weeks two days ago. Had you been on your period during the witch hunt in Nebraska? Dammit, you couldn’t remember at all. As you often did when surprised with it during a job, you cursed the fact that you weren’t the kind of person who wrote something down on a calendar about your cycle.

You shifted in your seat, trying to calculate. Fuck. Why couldn’t you remember if you were on your period in Nebraska? 2 days late wasn’t that big of a deal, but if you were a month late… You watched Sam try to rub some tension out of his neck absentmindedly. Was he wondering the same thing you were?

This was not the time to be worried about it. You couldn’t figure out anything either way in the car—what were you going to do anyway, count the number of extra tampons you had in your bag?—and relatively soon you’d be in Cleveland. There would be opportunities to talk to Sam alone, to get to a drugstore, to figure this out. You took some deep, deliberate breaths. By your estimation, it would take about 7 hours to get to Cleveland. Curling up in the darkness of the backseat, you dozed fitfully until Dean woke you up to grab some food. Stressed but knowing that the boys would notice if you didn’t eat, you forced down the better part of a buffalo chicken sandwich and gratefully relinquished your fries to Dean. You couldn’t tell if Sam seemed nervous or just tired through dinner and knew better than to ask in front of Dean.

When you got back in the car, you offered Sam the backseat so he could stretch out and sleep. Singing along to Creedence Clearwater Revival with Dean helped take your mind off of the racing questions until finally the Impala pulled into a motel outside Cleveland. You grabbed a top sheet and pillow off of one bed to put on the couch as you usually did on the road with Sam and Dean, and were asleep by the time you slipped your boots off under the plasticized coffee table.

The next morning, you carefully slid Dean’s keys out of his jacket as it hung on a chair. Your hope was to be back before either of them woke up, and you knew you were pushing it. Sam and Dean had been asleep for a little under 4 hours, and you knew it would be miraculous if they stayed down for a 5 hour stretch. Gently catching the door behind you, you didn’t hear any movement on the other side and hoped for the best.

The first drugstore you found was a little mom-and-pop establishment with a very sweet looking woman in her mid 60’s behind the counter. She was eating what looked like a cruller and drinking coffee from a steaming ceramic mug while reading a magazine. You congratulated yourself silently for brushing your hair to look more presentable to her as you pushed three pregnancy tests across the counter. She brushed off her hands on a small white apron tied around her waist and smiled warmly as she rang up the tests.

“Sweetie, do you want a bag for these?” she asked.

“No, I, uh,” you stammered, realizing you were more nervous than you had convinced yourself you were on last night’s drive. She softly touched the back of your hand on the pregnancy tests and pointed down a little side hall next to the counter.

“Bathroom’s on the right,” she offered graciously. You nodded, taking the tests with you as you followed her directions. Unbuckling your jeans, you almost thought “I can’t remember the last time I took my pants off this fast,” chuckling aloud when you realized you absolutely could remember the last time your pants were taken off this fast. God, how stupid could you both have been? If your gut was right, that you had skipped your period in Nebraska, it meant your slipup with Sam at that bar in Montana was the likely culprit. Normally so careful both about making sure Dean wasn’t around to find out as well as protection, you were playing with fire that night. You had been stealing sultry glances at Sam for hours as Dean ripped through shots. Dean had found some bikers to play pool with, and you’d been brushing against Sam for longer than you needed to every time you snuck by the table for another round. The guys were fun and loud, and made the three of you feel at home. Dean was in the middle of being convinced to sing karaoke when you reapplied your lip gloss slowly with Sam’s eyes on you, and Dean was too caught up with the start of both another round of whiskey and a new game when you had told Sam you were headed to the powder room.

He had given you about a 2 minute head start before slamming open the door of the bathroom, crashing into you as a long arm cracked the lock into place. Sam, normally sweet and gentle Sam, had reacted to your teasing him all night exactly the way you wanted to, the heat and urgency and need searing through him as he tore at your belt buckle and you at his. He gathered a handful of hair at the base of your neck as he kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip. You groaned as he moved down your neck, his hot breath sending electrifying chills down your spine. Suddenly his other hand was under your thigh, and he pulled you up to sit atop the old porcelain sink. Your jeans held on to your right leg for dear life as you tried to yank free of them, ultimately getting only your left out before Sam’s impatience got the better of him and he left your mouth to drag his tongue, long and languid, across your clit. When you gasped, he pulled firmly on the handful of hair he still had, arching your back into the mirror behind you.

You hadn’t even thought for a split second of the consequences when you had pulled him into you on that sink. All that had mattered for those fervent salty minutes was the rhythm of Sam pounding you into the bathroom wall, hearing the creak of the sink ache underneath you, feeling the throbbing of yourself around him, the shiver you felt in his arms when you licked at his neck and earlobes. When he finished, sticky and hot on your stomach and inner thigh, you had cleaned up as fast as you could before getting your clothes back on, checking both of yourselves in the mirror for evidence before leaving one at a time to rejoin Dean and your new friends. You remembered the way you had ached so good in the days following, the way Sam blushed the next day when you winked at him over pancakes.

In a way it felt poetic, to be once again in a strange bathroom. You lined up the tests next to the sink as you washed your hands, begging for time to move more quickly. One by one their results developed in cloudy blue words.

Pregnant

Fuck.

By the grace of God, Sam and Dean appeared to still be asleep by the time you got back to the motel room. You slipped Dean’s keys back into his jacket pocket and took off your boots, lying back down on the couch to pantomime sleep as you tried to figure out your next move. Sam roused first, and you jumped on the opportunity to talk before he got to the shower, startling him as he walked by the couch to get to the bathroom.

“Sam, can I talk to you?” you whispered.

He jolted before closing his eyes hard. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, you scared me,” he responded, his voice rough with sleep. “Two seconds, ok?”

“Yeah sure. I’ll be outside,” you said, shoving your feet into your boots and heading for the small cast iron bench outside the motel room. Sam came out a few minutes later, smelling of toothpaste and looking like he had raked his fingers through the worst of his bedhead tangles. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

“What’s going on?” He looked concerned, and you realized you probably weren’t keeping the worry off of your face as well as you would’ve hoped.

You took another deep breath, trying to keep your voice level as you responded. “So, Dean being a creep yesterday got me nervous, because I think he might be right,” you started. Sam’s earnest eyes encouraged you to keep going. “In that I’m supposed to be on my period right now. And I should’ve been on my period in Nebraska. But I’m not now, and I wasn’t—” Sam finally made the realization you were leading him to, his eyes widening as he held your gaze. “—in Nebraska, so I took a test, really three tests, and I think I’m pregnant,” you finished, the words tumbling out of your mouth like an avalanche furtively mumbled outside the Ohio hotel room. “And I, uh, you’re obviously the only person I’ve been with, so I thought you should know.”

Your voice cracked on the last words, and you bit your lip to hold back the involuntary tears. Sam took your shoulders in each hand and looked into your eyes. “Hey. Hey, okay, look at me. Everything’s okay.” He pulled you into a firm hug, his ropey muscles around your shoulders and back feeling like an anchor in a storm. You stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to breathe smoothly around the lump in your throat threatening to burst while Sam gripped you tightly. When you shifted your weight, he let go and left a stabilizing hand on your lower back for a moment. You and Sam sat on the bench side by side staring out at the half-full parking lot in the morning dew.

Sam cleared his throat. “What do you want to do?” he asked softly. You were worried if you looked at him you’d start crying, so you kept your eyes locked on the asphalt.

“I don’t know, I guess. Hadn’t really thought that far,” you said honestly. “I mean, how many pregnant hunters do you know?” You finally looked over at Sam when he didn’t respond. His brows were knitted together as he looked at his hands in his lap.

“Not very many, I guess,” he mumbled, barely audible. He straightened his spine and set his jaw. “If that’s what you want to do, I totally get it. I’m here no matter what you decide.”

“Well, what would you do?”

“It’s not my call.”

“Sam, I’m asking because I want to know. What would you decide?”

“I’d give it a shot,” he said, firmly but quietly. “I think we could do it.”

You let his answer hang in the air for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Sam chuckled, looking back down at his hands before meeting your eyes. “Pretty sure.” He smiled, a small and self-conscious smile that made him look more unsure of himself than you’d ever seen him. When you smiled back at him, a tear slipped past your eyelashes. You wiped it away furtively as you began to laugh. Then Sam was laughing with you, his own eyes wet and bright. For the first time since you were in the car yesterday, you didn’t feel like you were racing and clawing to stay afloat. It felt like maybe things would be okay.

You heard a creak and saw Dean’s head poking out of the motel door. His hair was unkempt and the neck of his t-shirt was stretched out; he’d clearly just woken up. He squinted a puffy eye at you both. “What’re you guys doing out here?”

You gasped for breath in between your hysterical giggling. “I’m pregnant,” you managed to squeak out.

Dean’s head kicked back into his neck as he opened his eyes wide. “This feels like a conversation I should have pants on for.”

“So you’ve got a bun in the oven,” Dean said, pouring syrup over a short stack at a nearby diner. “Is this a moment for congratulations?” He squinted at you, carefully trying to keep his expression neutral.

“Um, yeah, I think so,” you said shyly. Eggs had seemed like a good idea when the waitress came over, but now the idea of putting them in your mouth was too much. Dean seemed to read your mind, rolling his eyes and forking a pancake onto your plate.

“Who’s the baby daddy? Should I be calling Springer?” Dean smiled slyly. Sam was notably quiet, looking down at his omelet like it had all the secrets of the Rosetta Stone.

“Shut up,” you said, grimacing at him. “Between the two of us, I think you know who should be more scared about a random baby coming into the picture.”

“Fair enough, I yield,” Dean chuckled. “Seriously though, who’s big papa?” Dean took a comically large bite of sausage, and you waited a beat to make sure he wasn’t about to choke.

“Sam.”

Dean coughed and sputtered around the bite of sausage, snatching his coffee to help him swallow. He bared his teeth when he realized how hot it was and pounded a closed fist on his chest. “Good one, jackass. Seriously, who is it? Maybe that detective from Sioux Falls who’s always getting you coffee cake when we’re there?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You shot a look over to Sam, who clenched and unclenched his jaw before looking up at Dean. As was often true, they were communicating with their eyes in a way you couldn’t understand. Sam raised his eyebrows slightly, and Dean closed his eyes very deliberately before putting his fork down and steepling his fingers on the table. “You guys have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered under his breath. He opened his eyes after a long moment and sucked on his teeth. “Start talking,” he growled.

“We’ve been, you know, uh, spending a lot of time together—” Sam started before Dean waved a dismissive hand in the air.

“How long?” Dean asked, still steely.

Sam gulped hard and pursed his lips. “Like 7, 8 months?” He looked to you for confirmation and you nodded slightly.

Dean’s nostrils flared and he bit his bottom lip. “Eight goddamn months, Sam? Are you kidding me?” You tried to meet Sam’s eyes but he was avoiding Dean by looking out the diner window. “Sam!” Dean barked. You watched an older woman a few tables away look over at your table and threw a weak wave her way to apologize for the noise.

Sam finally turned to look at Dean. “Dean, I don’t know what you want me to say. Yes, eight months. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, it just didn’t seem like the right time and then a lot of time had passed, and—”

“—it didn’t change anything so there wasn’t really any point to talking about it,” you finished. Sam gave you a tight smile to indicate his thanks.

Dean looked from you to Sam and back before picking his fork back up and stabbing another piece of sausage a little harder than necessary. The fork scraped against the plate unpleasantly. He raised it to his mouth before reconsidering, letting it clatter to the plate. “Sam, I asked you like five times if there was something going on and you said no every single time. What the hell, man?”

You leaned back in the booth and watched as Sam chewed his lip nervously. On some level, you were glad it seemed like Dean wasn’t as mad at you as Sam, but you felt guilty both for not having told Dean and that Sam was incurring his wrath alone. Sam let his head loll back on his neck.

“Well?” Dean repeated. You could sense now the note of sadness in his voice peeking out between the waves of anger. Sam still didn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“I, uh, I don’t know,” he finally answered softly.

After a long stare, Dean finally went back to eating. You and Sam followed, and the three of you ate silently for a few minutes.

“You’re keeping it, then?” Dean asked, his voice low and raspy as he kept eating.

You finished your bite and took a sip of orange juice before answering, hoping this meant Dean had processed some of his anger. “I think so. I just found out this morning so it’s all happening kind of fast. Sam said he wants to try.” A smile crept onto your face involuntarily as you looked over at him.

“You cannot just try with a fucking kid, did you two get dropped on your heads? You’re going to what, put a play pen in the dungeon of the bunker we live in? Do you hear yourselves?”

You winced. “Dean, I don’t know, okay? You’re right. I don’t know. I don’t think Sam does either. I’m just trying really hard not to freak the fuck out right now, and I gotta be honest: you’re not helping.” You reached out to squeeze his hand. Dean allowed it but didn’t squeeze back. “Please. I don’t know what to do.”

Dean’s face fell and he rubbed a quick circle in the back of your hand before pulling away to stroke his face. He looked so tired suddenly. “Are you guys leaving now then?”

Your eyebrows and Sam’s communicated your confusion. “No one’s leaving. There’s still a job here, regardless of whatever soap opera bullshit we have going on,” you said.

“Get real, like either of us is going to be able to focus on a hunt if we know you’re cracking necks pregnant.” Dean scoffed.

“Okay, then she can stay in the motel and we can talk about this more back at the bunker,” Sam offered, ever the peacemaker. You glared at him but he specifically avoided meeting your gaze, knowing you’d be frustrated at this plan.

“I��m done talking about this right now,” Dean said abruptly, yanking his wallet out of his pocket and throwing far more money on the table than the bill would’ve cost. He started toward the door, leaving you and Sam to run after him or risk being left.

The car ride was silent and tense. When you got back to the motel, Sam and Dean stayed in the car as you got out alone.

“We’ll probably only be a couple hours, just to the morgue and back. See you soon?” Sam asked.

“Not really a ton of places I could go with no car,” you responded.

“I’m sure you could figure something out,” Sam chuckled. You saw Dean’s hand tighten on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white.

“Dean, is your suit in the trunk or do you want me to grab it?” you asked, trying to offer an olive branch.

“Trunk,” he said curtly. Sam made an apologetic face and waved as they pulled away.

With the motel in the rearview mirror, Dean’s fist shot out to dead-arm Sam. “Are you fucking stupid? You’re so fucking stupid!” he grunted in between punches.

Sam tried his best to block Dean, very aware of the road in front of them. “Dean. DEAN! Stop hitting me, alright? Jesus Christ, I get it!” Dean finally stopped and Sam rubbed his sore arm. “God, Dean, I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve been more careful and I should’ve told you.”

“God, Sam, what were you thinking?” Dean slammed a palm into the steering wheel. “I mean, this has got to be your last job then,” he said, resolute.

“What? No! I can still be a hunter if she’s pregnant. Plenty of hunters have kids,” Sam snapped.

“Yeah, like Dad? Jo’s dad? How’d that work out for them? Wake up, Sam. At best you leave her alone raising a kid with no dad, and at worst they both get killed from some crap you get caught up in. If you go straight, get a day job, some house somewhere, maybe you have a shot at keeping everyone alive.”

“She’s a hunter too, she knows how hard it’s going to be, okay? We’re going to figure it out,” Sam answered.

“Yeah, you both keep saying that, don’t you? So start figuring it out then, dumbass. Tell me your groundbreaking plan to keep a target on your ass ganking demons and monsters with a baby Björn on.” He looked at Sam condescendingly. “I’m listening, Sammy. Turn on that genius brain of yours and lay it on me.”

“Enough.” Sam said firmly. “What do you want me to do then, Dean? I can’t exactly take it back, and it’s not like I could force her to do anything even if I wanted to, so tell me what you think I should do!” Sam’s voice rose, the fear coming to the surface.

The tension hung in the air like a curtain for a long minute.

Finally, Dean slammed the steering wheel again. “Son of a bitch,” he said emphatically. “Okay. You’re right. We’ve got to figure out what you’re going to do.” He took a deep breath and pushed it out forcefully.

Sam’s shoulders relaxed noticeably at Dean’s change in tone. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice.

“Man, eight months? I must be pretty stupid,” Dean laughed, still somewhat angrily.

Sam realized Dean was trying to lighten the mood and decided to let him have it, despite his bruised feelings. “There were a few times when I thought for sure you knew, to be honest.”

“Oh yeah? Like when?”

“Remember when, ah, you came home early from that Die Hard thing?”

“Drive in double feature that got rained out, hell yeah. I was pissed.”

“And when you got back to the bunker the kitchen was a mess and she said she was making like, cupcakes or something?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Dude, the kitchen? You’re a dog.” He smiled slyly at Sam, who laughed. The mood in the car was lifting like a low cloud after a bit of afternoon sun, and both of them relaxed into themselves for a few minutes of road.

Dean cleared his throat. “Do you love her?”

Sam turned to Dean, locking him in his gaze. “I do, yeah,” he said, softly and earnestly.

Dean thumped a big hand on Sam’s back. “Then congrats, baby bro. Look at you, all grown up. If I’m being honest, I thought I was going to be the one who finally got the girl.”

“Wait, Dean, if you have feelings for h—” Sam started.

“No, nah, not now. It’s been years, she’s like a sister to me. Yesterday I would’ve said she’s like a sister to us,” Dean chuckled. “But she’s obviously a gorgeous girl, tough, smart like that? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it when she first started staying with us.” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “She’s going to be a good mom, Sammy.”

“I think so too.”

In the motel room, you tried hard to focus on whatever Alaskan logging show was on but failed. Dean was right, this whole situation was overwhelming. The moments of hope you had sitting on that bench with Sam seemed lightyears away.

A few hours later the boys finally walked through the motel door in their suits. Their expressions were unreadable, and Dean had a paper bag presumably of evidence in his hand that he set down on the small kitchenette table. Sam walked over to a bed, loosening his tie and taking off his jacket as he went. Dean mirrored the motion as he sat down at the table. It was always obvious they were brothers, but these small moments of such strong resemblance tickled you, even despite the circumstances.

“How’d it go?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light as to not reveal the time you’d spent pacing and panicking while they were gone.

“Seems pretty open and shut, we’re going to hit them tomorrow morning. Apparently they usually close down the tiki bar and then crash for a few hours before hitting the third shifter joints,” Sam said calmly, patting the bed next to him for you to sit down. You complied.

“You deserve an apology,” Dean began. You tried to keep the surprise off your face so as not to discourage him from continuing. “I wouldn’t have lied about it for the better part of a damn year, but if you guys are happy and everything, I can hardly judge about a slip up. Mistakes happen.” He let out a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. “So, I’m sorry. And I know normally you’d like a nice peaty Irish whiskey, but I figured under the circumstances this was more appropriate,” Dean reached into the paper bag on the table and pulled out a fluffy white cake with big pink, blue, and yellow frosting roses. In graceful, elegant script along the top, it said,

“Sorry Sam didn’t pull out!”

You blushed and laughed out loud, reaching over to lightly slap Dean’s arm. “How much did you have to pay them to put that on it?”

“Oh, they do the writing for free,” he grinned devilishly. “Want a slice?”

“Sure,” you said, thinking a piece of cake at 10 am couldn’t be any weirder than this day already was. Dean got up to look through the cabinets for the cheap silverware and Corelle plates that seemed standard issue for motels like this.

You turned to Sam. “What’re we going to do? I mean, it’s not like we can take a baby with us on the road, no offense, and to be honest I don’t know that I want to stop living this life. And I definitely don’t want to leave Dean, or the bunker, or—” Sam stopped you by lacing his fingers through yours.

“We’ve figured out way more complicated problems than this. We’re going to make it work. If that means babyproofing the bunker or living in a duplex with Dean or driving around the country in a big RV, then that’s what we’ll do. Believe me, I’m scared as hell too. But there is no one I would rather bring someone into this world with. I love you.”

“Thanks, Bridget Jones’ Diary,” Dean said, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes while you rubbed the beginnings of tears out of yours. “Sam, how big do you want your piece?”

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester #spn fanfiction #spn oneshot #spn fluff #spn fic #sam winchester one shot #spn reader insert #sam fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #reader insert

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oooooocheshirecuntoooooo · 3 years

Text

In the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere ..... Oh the adventures we had with a hooker. All. Night. Long. 😂

It involves me, my husband, our 18 & 3 year old daughters, a cop and the hooker ... oh and a store clerk and her son. And for real. All night from like 12:30am to 7 am. And now I am home, but without the van and three of the kids didn’t make it home with us.

The following story is absolutely, 100% true. Although it’s not the kind of exciting you’re used to hearing from me, it’s still pretty bizarre. 😂

Just to give a little back story to help paint a clear picture .... So, we always go to my in laws for Christmas but we usually only stay maybe 3-6 days or so depending on how things fall together. This year we decided to stay through New Years because of some drama back at our home. My mother lives on our property and is mentally ill, and we’re pretty sure dementia is setting in. She’s never been an easy person to be around and we have always fought constantly but I have tried to take care of her anyway because she’s the only mom I’ve got, ya know? The last couple years though she’s gotten a lot more aggressive. In July she assaulted her doctor over the mask requirement and even had to go to court over it. Then in august she assaulted me, tried to choke me to death in my own home and in front of my kids. Of course I over powered her and forcefully pushed her out of my house, so yes she sustained bruises and such from that but that’s the extent of it. (She told all of Facebook in a public post that I beat her up every day and that kind of thing. She posts almost every day that she’s being abused, etc. Shes called the police at least 4times in three months. She tried to accuse me of elder abuse and even said I neglect and abuse my kids. Four times they have come out and investigated and not only said they see no signs of child or elder abuse, or anything to backup her claims. They talked to the kids and quickly agreed they were all fine too.

So fast forward to Christmas Eve. We were trying to load up the van to leave for our trip. We couldn’t hardly get it done because she was hounding us so much. When we were done I sent the kids to the car while hubby and I grabbed the last few bags. I blinked and she was charging toward the kids and yelling things at them like “you’re going to be a whore like your mom when you grow up. You wanna suck dick for a living?” And “I hope you die slowly and are alone and afraid for hours before you die.” The oldest child there that day was 12. And no, I’ve never worked in prostitution before. She began to charge toward me when I yelled at her to get away from the kids. Hubby told her to go back in her house and she wouldn’t. Kept coming toward us. So he pulled out his pistol, didn’t cock it or anything, and said again to go back in her house. So she called the police again .... 🙄

So we stayed longer trying to talk to the family lawyer and get a game plan. We’re following through with pressing assault charges so I can get a restraining order, and we’re filing for eviction. So we got all packed and ready to go and noticed liquid under the van. The power steering pump went out and the line busted all over everything. So that set us back another couple of days but we got the line and the pump replaced and tested everything and it looked good. It was late but we decided to set out anyway. We knew we’d get in late but the advantage to that was my crazy mother would be asleep and we could at least get in and unload the van in peace.

About 12:30 the battery light came on and we weren’t near ANYTHING. Somehow we made it another 20 miles or so until we got to a small town we’ve never stopped in before. We stopped at a gas station and barely got in the lot when it died. Hubby tinkered with some things and it looks like the alternator. Apparently some power steering fluid got in it when it busted but we couldn’t see that at the time, including the mechanic neighbor friend helping with it.

So we’re an hour and a half from home and totally stranded in the middle of the night with, thankfully, only two of our kids - the 18 & 3 year old. We make the calls for roadside assistance and I begin calling everyone I know that might can come help us. It’s freezing and none of us packed coats because it’s not usually this cold down here this early in winter. Hubby was wearing shorts even. So we take turns going in the store and sitting in the van with our things - there’s a large fully loaded cargo bag on the roof and a bike rack with two bikes on the back. Figured if we left it alone for a long time those things at least would disappear, essentially given the atmosphere of the place.

In all the moving around and the cashier asking questions and getting to know us and the situation we were in, this big eyed, buck toothed, scraggly little older, black lady who looked like she hasn’t bathed in years starts talking to hubby about what’s wrong with the van. He goes back to tinker with it often hoping he’s wrong about the alternator or that he missed a loose connection - anything that might help us get out of here l, if not home. I am watching cars like a hawk because you wouldn’t believe how many would pull in, loop the parking lot while staring at us and leave again. It started feeling like sharks circling and a feeding frenzy building up. So I’m on edge and I make sure the pistol is within reach at all times. So this little trashy lady keeps talking to him about the mechanics and trying to troubleshoot it. Lemme pain a more accurate picture: this spun out little crack whore was chasing the dragon, looking for it inside the oil reserve, the transmission fluid ..... she keeps pulling out the dipsticks, shaking them like a Polaroid picture and slinging fluids everywhere and then says “I think it’s your starter.”

No doubt she’s trying to hustle some cash and once even asked for some gas money when’s we see the car she rode in pull away and leave her there. She said it was her brother. After awhile, hubby has had enough. He’s usually pretty patient with people who are too fucked up to reach reality but this isn’t the time for all that. Not only is she a hindrance, she keeps snatching his tools and once even his phone out of his hands. I was in the car and I heard him yell “carry your ass already!” If he’s talking to even an annoying stranger like that, I know shit is hitting the fan. Me? I’m Irish. I would’ve done popped off at her which is why I was avoiding her completely. So I got out and joined him and started yelling at her to fuck off. She will take a few steps away and come back but she does finally go all the way back in the store, both of us cussing her the whole way. I blink and she back in his face again. She keeps saying random shit like “anything you can do I can do better” and “I helped you and you just turn me away. That’s not what the Bible says” and “God got me. I don’t need you. I pray for you”

I’m beyond pissed. I’m cold —- and I loath being cold — and I’m tired, it’s now like 2:30 or 3, I’m feeling vulnerable just by being broke down and especially with the toddler who can’t do anything to protect herself or understand what’s going on and who is extremely sensitive to any type of anger or tension (she cries hysterically when her siblings tickle fight or pillow fight and are laughing) and with all I’ve been dealing with with my mom lately I just have no give a shit left in me. So I jump out and say loudly “should I get the gun for you?” He said “it’s starting to look like it.” And I handed it to him and he put it in his pocket - more just wanting to communicate and it wanting to draw on her because that could invite charges for him potentially and we already have enough legal drama waiting at home. She slowly starts walking backward and keeps running her mouth. I forget what she said but she flipped my bitch switch again and I found myself screaming “Don’t make me cut a bitch!”

She said “what did you say?” And I pulled out my pretty pink and Pearl, large and extremely sharp pocket knife and extended the blade, “I said if you don’t carry your ass I WILL cut a bitch!” She nodded that smug kind of nod and kept going, “aaaiiignt”

The car that brought her there and left came back. She got in it and it left, stopped about 20 feet from the parking lot and she appeared to be forcefully shoved out from the way she rolled in the grass. But she goes walking the other direction so we figured she was gone. Meanwhile though in that amount of time I already dialed 911. The operator connected me to the local station and I spoke to dispatch. I kid you not, less than 60 seconds later an officer was there. We later learned he parks in a dark spot across the street of this divided highway. He even saw some of the commotion but couldn’t tell from the angle that it was heated. He tells us all about her, how she’s the local “hooker” / crack whore, along with her sister and mother. When I said we could tell she was drunk or inebriated or something he said, “more like high as a kite in with a jet pack!” I have seen a lot of people high in my years but I’ve never seen anyone act like she was so I asked, “On what?” He just shrugged “likely a combination of things. She’s a non discernment, equal opportunity junkie.”

Would you believe she showed up again while he’s talking to us? She tried to act like they were friends “hey! I know you. You’re married to my kin ...” He kinda yells at her and smirks “you a damn lie and you know it. I’m not even married.” Tim and I both glanced at his hands, his wedding band plainly visible. I got back in the van because my teeth are chattering so bad I can’t speak anyway. He puts her in the back of his car and talks to my husband again. He tells him he’s use to her and is going to take her to a relatives house where she goes when she needs to sleep it off for a day or two. He leaves and about 20 minutes later he’s back. Apparently he almost ran out of gas and he wanted to check in on us again. The jokes flew about how awkward that would look if he ran out of gas and was on the side of the road with the town hooker and all. He was a really nice guy and stayed with us most of the rest of the night. He said he got off at 7 and if we still didn’t have any help to give him a call, giving us his cell number.

So, at the same time I’m trying to get something done about the tow truck that needs to come get the van and find someone to come get us. The first wrecker — BROKE DOWN ON THE WAY TO PICK US UP! I was starting to feel cursed! The second wasn’t informed this would be a “long haul” tow and he only does local. Third times the charm right? Apparently so this time. He was a nice guy as well and took extra steps to keep the bikes and things secure on the trip.

We even had talked to hubby’s parents when we very first broke down. They were asleep but I was able to text my kids that stayed behind to spend another day or two with them, and they were coming up anyway to do some work on the property up here and file the eviction. So the boy, who will be 11 tomorrow, and the 12yo girl woke them up and told them we broke down. Apparently the 8 year old had already gone to sleep. His parents got up and talked to us and they were like, we’ll work on it and let me know what you find out. What the insurance company will do. So when the tow truck showed up, at 4:30, we asked if one of them could come get us because all the insurance company said was “MAYBE a supervisor could make an allowance for a Lyft or something like that but it didn’t seem a highly probable option. I realize we were 3 hours from his parents but they got up and stayed up from the first time we called and father in law could’ve gotten us and most of our stuff in the van and gotten us home, and him back to his house, before lunch and then slept or done whatever work he felt was more important than our safety. I’m kinda ticked about that. So we get what things we can’t live without immediately and head into the store to wait for a solution to arise, or friends to wake up! I was the last one going in and I was shivering so bad I dropped the things in my hands. I bent down to pick them up when two large shoes stepped in to my view, directly in front of me.

I stand up and then continue looking up to find the eyes looking back at me - a huge ‘cornfed’ red neck man who almost is convincing at appearing to be tough as nails, but I see the gentle kindness in him immediately. However, when he named the itty bitty, no red light havin’ isolated little farm town we live in I was flabbergasted. I actually stuttered and just made noise instead of words when I tried to respond. He even chuckled and playfully’ mocked’ me but was even kind about it. It was more like he got a kick out of how taken off guard I was. He said “Do y’all need a ride to (hometown)?” in that extremely slow, drawn out way the redneck Southerns do. In a minute I nodded and said “How do you know that?” I continued walking in the store as I spoke and of course he followed and opened the door for me. Hubby had run back and flagged down the tow truck before it left, remembering the car seat was left in it and that would be essential to getting us home. He had already talked to the man but j didn’t know that. In fact, in all the in and out that night hubby and my older daughter had told the cashier bits and pieces of the situation and it hit a point where she realized help wasn’t coming very fast and didn’t want to see any more trouble fall on us like with the oh so classy hooker we had already met. So she called her son, knowing this was the kind of thing he was always looking to do. He kept telling us that he just really liked to drive and it was no big deal and that he had time to get us there and back home before work even. After debating over it for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes hubby and I decided it was probably the smartest option. He usually has a pretty keen sense of a persons character pretty quickly and so does my 18 year old - although it still needs to be fine tuned a bit but that will come with time, maturity, and unfortunately, heartbreak. We felt like we had a read on the kind, older lady cashier too and she even said “It’s ok. He’s my son. He’s not gonna hurt you or anybody that doesn’t try to hurt him first.”, laughing the last few words out and the glances between them revealing some inside joke / event. So we went ahead and got in his little car - which was more like a jumbo Geo Tracker and I honestly wondered how he ever fit inside. It wasn’t the best looking thing, kinda shabby and needing a lot of TLC, but for us it may as well have been luxury. It was a diamond in the rough, symbolic of the man who offered to drive us an hour and a half to get us home, and then back, before he went to work that day. By the time we got him we knew his life story - 33 and already a survivor of the heart attack they call ‘the widow maker’. We instantly fell in and we’re good friends. By the time we got home - at 7am - we hated to see him go. Of course we had a little Christmas gift cash on us and gave him a little something for his trouble, especially since he wouldn’t come in and let me make him something for breakfast. As I hugged him bye I told him “I will forever call you ‘My Angel Michael’. He said, “Well thank you ma’am. It was my pleasure.” and with that, he drove away.

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withabackpackandcamera · 3 years

Photo

July 4th, 2021 Day 9: Ending Our Last Full Day With A VERY Full Day Indeed

We arrived at the streetside parking lot for Geldingadalsgos (based on what I found out from Jeroen, the vent that I was taking photos of isn’t the volcano volcano, but more so a vent of a bigger volcano system; therefore, the vent itself doesn’t have a name, the eruption is called Geldingadalsgos, and the volcanic system is Fagradalsfjall Volcanic System. So, 60 Minutes named it wrong… lol) around 12:15am or so, at which time there were probably somewhere between 20-30 other cars parked. Yup, we didn’t even start hiking until after midnight. Indeed, we were a bit crazy and so was everyone else out there at an ungodly hour. Anyhow, because I got a little bit of rest in the car thanks to Minh’s driving, I was ready to go and see this volcano again.

Unlike the first trip to the volcano on our first day here in Iceland a week ago, this trip was much nicer despite the time of day we hiked. Instead of clear skies with heavy midday sunlight, we arrived as the sun was setting in the colorful orange and pink sky. The skies were darker than expected but the night itself teased us but never actually came in full force. The wind today was calm and collected compared to the violent winds the guys in the group endured last week. And the hike up the mountain was much smoother and easier than the first time up, likely because the authorities had done some fixing up, de-graveling, and repaving of different routes to make it safer for hikers. With conditions being great for hiking (and because I had emptied my camera bag of nonessentials), I made it up the mountainside in about 50 minutes or so, which was much faster than the first time. Cynthia and Minh slowly made their way up behind me since I was rushing to get to the top and they weren’t really into rushing.

Once at the top, I scurried across the ridge and to the same area that I had already hiked to last week, hoping for a good vantage point for some volcano photography. Most of the conditions were great for photography on this early, early morning. The skies were beautifully colored. The weather wasn’t too cold or windy. And the volcano was a little more active today compared to last Saturday. But the conditions weren’t perfect because we were still far from the volcano, the volcano wasn’t spewing out enough lava to make lava rivers that we could see from where we were, and the darkness of the lava field and volcano made it hard to take great landscape photos without the contrasting colors of lava rivers. But I guess that when you’re traveling on a tight schedule and you’re looking to photograph natural phenomena like erupting volcanoes and vents, you just have to make do with the photography conditions you’re presented with and live with the result.

So I just took out my camera and started taking photo after photo after photo of the vent spewing lava. I attempted to take portraits and action shots of the volcano and its activity as well as landscape shots of the volcano in relation to its beautiful surroundings and the gorgeously colorful sky above. I moved to a couple of different spots to try and find different perspectives from which to shoot from but ended up spending most of my time at one location where Cynthia had found a spot to sit and chill.

Throughout our time there, I tried my best to look for Jeroen, the photographer I was communicating with on Instagram. When I had contacted him earlier in the evening to help assess the volcano situation for the evening, he told me that he too was headed to the volcano and that if we spot each other, we should definitely say hi. But unfortunately, I never did catch him there. I later found out that he had hiked way past the point where I had stopped and had made his way over the mountain ridge and to the backside of the valley and lava field, where he discovered lava in action. He found a place to see lava (relatively) close up! So jealous! And that’s the problem with attempting landscape photography on a short schedule… You just don’t have enough time or energy to roam around and scope out areas after a packed trip full of sleep-deprived days. How I wish we could’ve had another whole week in Iceland just to hang out in Reykjavik and follow the volcano live stream until we found the opportunity to leisurely make our way over to photograph the volcano when its activity increases.

We stayed at Geldingadalsgos for quite some time and didn’t actually start heading back to the car until close to 4:00am. Minh and Cynthia went on ahead as I took some time for my last few shots. Once I finished, I ended up basically running down the mountainside and arriving at the split in the hiking route at around 4:15am, at which time I could see the heavy clouds and fog rolling in over the mountains, creating a beautiful, early morning scene. I caught up with Cynthia and Minh shortly after that and by the time we actually turned on the car to leave, it was around 5:00am or so. Yeah, really late and really early… I drove home as everyone crashed in the car and got us all home safely around 5:30-6:00am, at which time we all just crashed, knowing that there was little sleep to be had this morning. Because we had an appointment at 9:00am to get our COVID swabs completed for our flight back home, we slept for a measly 2.75 hours until 8:45am, at which time we had to wake up and jump into the car to drive to our testing site. Luckily, the line and swabs were quick and we were in and out in about 15-20 minutes.

We went home after the swab. The three of us who were out until early this morning were pretty exhausted and groggy. But because it was our last full day in Iceland, Cynthia was determined to make the most of it despite severe sleep deprivation. So instead of taking a nap like Minh did, Cynthia and I joined my parents on a morning walk to explore downtown Reykjavik. We started from our AirBnB located near Klambartun Park and slowly made our way toward Laugavegur, the main street lined with shops and stores that ran through downtown Reykjavik. As we strolled down the quiet street, we spotted a long line in front of a store and decided to take a closer look at what people were waiting for. And it was pastries and baked goods at Sandholt Reykjavik! So we joined the line (though mistakenly, since we waited in the dine-in line before realizing there was a faster, shorter line just for take-out from the bakery) and bought our delicious morning pastries to enjoy outside at a table nearby. And the pastries were delicious! Especially the almond croissant Cynthia bought! SO SO GOOD!

The family sat and enjoyed our pastries and coffee before continuing on our lovely morning stroll through town. We walked around downtown and checked out some stores here and there before turning around to head back toward Hallgrimskirkja to meet up with a rejuvenated Minh. Along the way, I took the family on a detour so that they could see my old flat on Bergstaðastræti. We briefly got lost along the way since I couldn’t remember exactly where it was but we eventually found it after some backtracking.

We met up with Minh at Hallgrimskirkja and took a brief look inside the church before splitting up from mom and dad to meet up with Thorsteinn and his girlfriend Thordis Erla on the other side of downtown at a cute brunch place called The CooCoo’s Nest near the Old Harbour. Along the way there, we stopped by to look in a couple of stores and even ran into an old Stanford buddy, Bryce Kam, and his wife walking around Laugavegur. What a coincidence! We chatted in the streets for a few minutes before we had to bid them farewell so that we could make it to brunch on time.

After a relatively short walk through town to get to the Old Harbour side, we finally arrived at The CooCoo’s Nest and found Thor and Thordis already there waiting for us and for a table to open up. After officially meeting Thordis, we sat outside and started catching up over all sorts of things until it was time to be seated at our table inside. We continued on with our great conversations inside as we ate our delicious brunch (Cynthia and I ordered their Breakfast Burrito and Eggs Florentine, both which were yummy). We had a wonderful two-hour long late brunch with the two of them and shared a ton of great stories and talked about all sorts of topics, from Thor’s and Thordis’ life updates (including buying a house together, Thor getting a new job managing assets and portfolios, Thordis going back to school to study industrial finance after briefly working, Thordis’s previous work life working for Icelandair as a flight attendant) to stories about our trip and our lives in the States during a pandemic. So much fun to catch up after almost five years!

Once we had taken our photos and said farewell to each other, Cynthia and I slowly walked through downtown and made a couple of stops along the way as we headed back to the house while Minh went off on his own to look for Icelandic sweaters to buy. By the time we arrived back at the apartment, there was only 1.5 hours left until our next social gathering with Sveinn Magnússon and Kristin Bragadottir at their house for dinner. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I was so full and so tired by the time we got home that I couldn’t even think about more talking and more eating. We helped do some laundry before Cynthia and I went to lie down and take a quick power nap. Unfortunately, we were woken up soon after we went to bed and rushed out of the house so that we could make it to dinner on time at Sveinn’s. We drove over there, and when we arrived, we were warmly greeted by Sveinn and Kristin before Minh and dad finally showed up after their souvenir-buying stroll. It was such a pleasure to see Sveinn and Kristin again after these busy last 4.5 years!

Sveinn and Kristin welcomed us with open arms into their warm home, one that I have visited every trip I’ve made to Iceland. While waiting for dinner to be prepared, I introduced Sveinn and Kristin to my parents and Cynthia, who they had never met, and we shared stories in the living room while sipping on white wine. It was great to finally introduce everyone to each other after they had all heard stories about each other over the years. We caught up for a while before we were seated at the dining table for a fabulous and delicious dinner spread that included an appetizer of shrimp and cheese salad, mains and sides of baked salmon with a puff pastry top, half-mashed potatoes, and salad, and rhubarb oatmeal pie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. What a yummy treat! Over dinner, we learned so much more about Iceland, past and present, from Sveinn and also learned about Kristin’s journey to her PhD in history and her authorship of several historical books as a result. Always so great to hear about the amazing things they are doing and the amazing knowledge they are always willing to share with us!

After dinner, we continued to sip on more wine while chatting more and looking through family photo books that Sveinn had collected over the years. I learned more specifics about Sveinn Magnusson as a physician. For example, before working at the ministry, he was a general practitioner in Sweden and Iceland and was boarded in Internal Medicine and Family Medicine. He then transitioned to working for the Icelandic government where he served primarily as director general, the second highest ranking civil, nonpolitical official in Iceland who reports directly to the prime minister. And while working at the ministry for 21 years, he served a total number of 16 prime ministers. These days, while not doing government work, Sveinn is primarily on call to do death exams on folks in the community. Every now and then, he is tasked with doing a little more than that. In one instance a few years ago, he was the physician who did the baseline intake physical exams for the group of Greenland boat guys who were involved in the murder of a young Icelandic woman. Crazy! After hearing all sorts of cool and crazy stuff and before we even knew it, it was 9:30pm and time for our exhausted family to bid Sveinn and Kristin farewell and a big thank you for hosting us at their lovely house on our short trip through Iceland.

Before driving home, we briefly stopped by the water so that everyone could check out Sun Voyager Sculpture and the Harpa Concert Hall. After some photos, we were pooped and drained, so we finally drove back home and started the task of packing and tidying up for our trip home. Minh’s energy tank was still holding some gas by this point (probably because of his effective power nap), so he decided to walk around downtown and check things out before hitting the sack. Cynthia decided to go with him to maximize her only full day in Reykjavik but because I was so tired, I stayed in to rest. I helped with laundry and hung out around the house until a bit past midnight, at which time I went to bed shortly before Cynthia and Minh returned home. What a ridiculously packed and exhausting last full day in Iceland! If only I had more time to just chill and do everything over a few days instead of over 36 hours… But at least there is one more half day left to enjoy tomorrow…

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. Today, tourism is the number one industry supporting the infrastructure and economy of Iceland, surpassing Iceland’s fishing industry. Therefore, when the pandemic hit and set the world on fire, tourism took a huge hit in Iceland and resulted in the crippling of Iceland’s economy. There were huge drops in revenue due to travel restrictions and mandates. But for some Icelanders, it was actually quite nice to have their country all to themselves once again after a decade-long boom in tourism. Local Icelanders got the chance to, once again, experience and enjoy Iceland’s beautiful nature the same way they used to enjoy it before tourists flocked to Iceland. It was now quieter and less crowded and locals could now go to tourist hotspots that they previously avoided due to tourist crowds (like the attractions along the South Ring Road). Icelanders got to travel locally with their families again and spent much of the pandemic just reconnecting with their families and friends. With tourism essentially on pause, it also gave nature time to rest and recover, something that was much needed in Iceland. Funny enough, though, despite everything I wrote above, when the country was open to tourists again, a lot of Icelanders, who are a social breed of people, actually appreciated and welcomed the tourists again. Not only did tourists bring money that was desperately needed into the country’s economy, but they also brought with them interesting conversation topics and new perspectives that helped break up the monotony of Icelanders keeping conversations afloat with people they’ve known their whole lives. During the pandemic, Icelanders actually missed seeing and talking to us tourists! Funny!

2. Thordis informed me that Icelandic weddings typically don’t have wedding parties to accompany the bride and groom to the altar but just have the bride and groom’s fathers present at the altar for their ceremony.

3. Supposedly, until 1974, the many rivers running through Iceland played a major role in travel and exploration in the country. Rivers were one of the major reasons that limited domestic traveling because, at the time, the country lacked a way to cross those rivers. However, around 1974, Iceland was gifted single-laned bridges to bridge them to broader horizons and to expand their previously-limited area for exploration.

4. When the latter half of the year arrives with its darkness, snow, and cold, windy weather, non-city-dwelling people in Iceland sometimes have to take up a secondary job or change the nature of their primary jobs because their work may be limited due to the challenging and harsh weather conditions. For example, if the farmers are growing crops, they can’t really do any of that in the winter. So they, along with other people from the countryside in need of something to do, sometimes volunteer to help in town. Sometimes they volunteer in civil roles and things like firefighting and teaching. Others will just take the down time to fix up their homes and do repairs they didn’t time to get to over the year. If you’re a farmer who raises animals or has animals to deal with, those farmers can continue working but maybe in a different way. Dairy farmers will continue their work with their cows. Sheep farmers will work to feed and breed their sheep after the sheep have been collected from the previously-green-but-now-yellow-and-brown fields where they roamed all summer. They can also start collecting the wool they shave off the sheep to get that side of the business going.

5. It isn’t that farmers don’t grow crops in Iceland because of the poor soil. Rather, they can’t grow successful crop fields because of the variation in the amount of sunlight and relative lack of sunlight during certain parts of the year. However, some manage to grow potatoes or other crops in very environmentally-controlled set-ups like greenhouses.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Aquaria Goes To Kindergarten (Shalaska, Sharon-Aquaria) - Joanne

A/N: Please be kind, this is my first ever fic. So, basically, I’m total shalaska trash, and I needed more mom!Sharon and decided to take matters into my own hands. Pure fluff, obviously.

Summary: Somehow, Aquaria, Sharon’s tiny baby daughter, was ready for her first day of kindergarten. But was Sharon ready? Tune in to find out.

Well, It had finally happened. The day had finally come when Aquaria was to start kindergarten. Sharon had thought for certain that Aquaria was going to wake up at the crack of dawn, or maybe even earlier, out of excitement for her big day, and that Sharon would have to force herself out of bed to get ready to take her.

Instead, Sharon had woken up around four a.m., after tossing and turning most of the night with anxiety. She was wrapped in her old worn-out fleece robe with little black bats on it, bags under her eyes, drinking her third cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, staring into space, thinking a mile a minute.

What if she’s too mature to fit in with the other kids? What if they don’t understand her? What if I forgot to teach her something important that she should know? What if they ask about her daddy, and she won’t know what to say?

Sharon couldn’t stop her thoughts from spiraling. She couldn’t believe that her beautiful blonde baby was already five, ready to go to school. How has the time gone by so fast?

Having Aquaria had by no means been in Sharon’s “5 year plan” when she was a 20-year-old college student. Sharon was a pretty quiet, albeit kind of goth, philosophy major when she got pregnant after a relatively uneventful one-night-stand with a boy from her class. When she found out she was pregnant, her parents disowned her. She ended up dropping out of school, and went to working full time at her coffee shop gig, lonely and afraid.

She never told the boy, the father of her child, Aquaria’s biological father. She never particularly liked him anyway, and she could not foresee herself sharing the baby growing inside her with some boring kid she wasn’t in love with.

And so it had been just the two of them. Sharon bounced from one aimless job to the next, and Aquaria spent her days waiting for her beloved mommy to pick her up from daycare. Sharon tried her hardest to provide for and occasionally spoil her daughter, even if that meant Sharon had to sometimes go to work without breakfast, or put off getting the oil changed in her beat up old car.

At the end of the day, however, Sharon and Aquaria were happy. Sharon didn’t know she could love someone like she loved her daughter, and Aquaria thought that her mom hung the moon. They were both perfectly content with each other and the little life they shared.

And so when the day came for Aquaria to sign up for kindergarten, Sharon was a wreck. It hadn’t quite dawned on her that her baby daughter was going to grow up, especially so fast. She cried in her car, parked in the Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot, for what felt like an hour after signing her daughter away. Sharon wasn’t ready.

Sharon, still lost in her thoughts, was awoken by the alarm on her phone on the counter. Shit. 7am. Time to get ready for school.

She tiptoed down the hall to Aquaria’s room, turning on the pink ballerina lamp when she entered. Sharon gently sat on the side of Aquaria’s little twin bed and looked down at her sleeping daughter. Aquaria’s long eyelashes, pink cheeks, and wispy blonde hair made her look like a little doll. She really was still Sharon’s baby, as much as either of them pretended otherwise.

Sharon softly ran her fingers through Aquaria’s fine hair, and her eyelashes began to flutter open.

“Guess what day it is, my pretty,” Sharon sing-songily whispered in her daughter’s ear. She slowly opened her eyes, looking groggy.

“Mama, I’m still sleepy.”

Aquaria was starting to get lulled back to sleep by Sharon’s comforting hand in her hair. Sharon got closer to her little ear, and whispered, “Aquaria, today’s the day! It’s the first day of school.”

Aquaria’s eyes shot open wide and she sat straight up. “Ah! Mama, I forgot! It’s time for kindergarten! Kindergarten, kindergarten!” She squealed and jumped around the dimly lit room in her pajamas, going 0 to 60. Sharon smiled at her, but inside, the butterflies in her stomach did somersaults.

On the car ride there, Aquaria’s display of excitement had vanished. She looked the part, with her hair in curled pigtails and wearing her new polka dot dress, but she stared silently in front of her, brows furrowed.

“Aquaria, baby, are you excited?” Sharon tried. She could tell Aquaria was nervous, but she herself wasn’t in much better shape. She stopped at a stoplight and looked at Aquaria in the backseat.

In the tiniest voice imaginable, Aquaria managed a forced “umhmm” and a little nod, eyes wide. Sharon’s heart sank. She wanted to turn the car around and go home and watch cartoons with her baby in her arms on the couch. Neither of them were ready, and yet they were almost there.

When Sharon parked in that same Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot where she had cried before, she turned to look at Aquaria. “Listen, baby, I know you’re nervous, but there really isn’t anything to be nervous about. You’re gonna make so many new friends, and learn so much, and have so much fun.”

Aquaria stared into Sharon’s eyes, and a single giant tear fell from one of her eyes, and she began to pout. Sharon jumped out of the car and into the back seat, scooping Aquaria out of her car seat and into her lap.

“Oh, baby. I know you’re scared. But you’re gonna do so good.”

Aquaria cried some more tears onto her mother’s shoulder, trying to catch her breath from her sobbing. Sharon held her at arms’ reach and looked into her eyes. Aquaria sniffled a few times, trying to silence herself.

“I know you can do it. You’re such a big girl now. And I am gonna be right there when the day is over, and then we can even go get ice cream.”

By now, the tears had stopped, and little Aquaria seemed to have calmed down some. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she still looked a little worried, but there was a new sense of determination on her little face. Sharon led her out of the car and helped her grab her backpack and lunch kit. As they walked towards the school, hand in hand, Sharon gave Aquaria’s hand a little squeeze of reassurance, something she learned from her own mother long ago. Sharon wonders what her family would think of her life now; of Aquaria in her little polka dot dress.

Sharon walked Aquaria into the school, and they were lead down the kindergarten hallway. On the wall was a list of the classroom each student was in, and Aquaria’s name was under the one listed Ms. Thunder- Room 102. They found the right room, and walked in to find lots of other new kindergarteners and their parents running around the room chaotically, finding the right monogrammed pencil boxes or places to put their backpacks. Sharon and Aquaria were equally overwhelmed as they looked at each other, and Sharon quickly forced a smile of reassurance.

They made their way to a place at a little table marked with Aquaria’s name, and Sharon knelt next to her daughter who sat in her new seat. “What do you think, baby? Don’t some of these kids look like they’ll make good friends?”

Aquaria didn’t respond, her eyes darting all around her with so much to look at. Moms, dads, little siblings, students who occasionally looked as nervous as Aquaria herself. Sharon too found it hard to not watch the bustle of people, the fancy women talking to each other with their doting husbands behind them. She felt out of place in her black jeans and combat boots, and without another parent to accompany her.

As they looked around them at all of the chattering people, a long, slender hand with pale pink nails reached across the table, accompanied with a chipper “And you must be miss Aquaria Needles! How are you doing this exciting morning?”

Aquaria shook her hand hesitantly as she and Sharon looked up. It was the most angelic yet alien looking woman Sharon had ever seen. She had long straight blonde hair half up, and a long flowy floral dress on. She smiled down at them sweetly.

“I’m your new teacher, Ms. Thunder! It’s so nice to meet you, Aquaria. We’re going to have a great year. Are you excited to be a kindergartener?” Aquaria forced a quiet smile at the tall woman in front of her.

Sharon stood up from Aquaria’s table and shook Ms. Thunder’s hand. “Hi. I’m Sharon Needles, Aquaria’s mom.” Ms. Thunder smiled at Sharon, her eyes sparkling. “So nice to meet you,” she said softly.

Quietly, so as to not let her daughter sitting below them hear, Sharon said, “Aquaria’s pretty nervous about school starting. There were a few tears shed on the way here this morning.”

Alaska’s brows furrowed a little as she looked back down at Aquaria, and then back up to Sharon. “That’s pretty normal for new kindergarten students. It is a big stepping stone into big kid-hood. I’ll keep an extra eye on her these first couple of days, but I’m sure she’ll have a fantastic time.”

Sharon immediately was put at ease with Alaska’s words. “Thank you so much, that makes me feel a lot better.”

Alaska smiled again at her. “Of course. And in case you have any more concerns, let me give you my cellphone number if you need to contact me for anything. Don’t hesitate.”

Alaska grabbed a red crayon from a bin on the table, and tore off a small piece of construction paper from a nearby shelf of supplies. She knelt down across from Aquaria, quickly writing down her name and number. She stood up and handed the piece of paper to Sharon.

“It was so nice to meet you,” she said, a slight hint of flirtation in her soft voice. Sharon soon found herself standing dumbfounded with the slip of paper in her hands as Ms. Thunder was whisked away to help another student find his seat.

After finally saying goodbye to an anxious Aquaria, Sharon soon once again found herself in her car in the Orchid Grove Elementary visitor parking lot. She stared ahead past the steering wheel and let out a long exhale. My baby is a kindergartener.

As she went to put her car in reverse, she remembered the slip of paper poking out of her purse. She unfolded it to find “Alaska Thunder- (412) 555-0168” written in crayon. Sharon chuckled to herself at how on brand it was for a kindergarten teacher. Construction paper and crayon.

Alaska, Sharon thought. Ms. Alaska Thunder.

Around noon, Sharon was starting to get antsy at work, wondering about how Aquaria’s day was going. Her mind was off track, and she kept delivering food to the wrong tables and having to have customers repeat their orders for her. As her shift lagged on, her performance was getting worse and worse.

When it finally got to her break at 12:30, she found herself holding her phone and the little piece of construction paper with Alaska’s number on it. She thought about not bothering her, but then she also remembered how upset Aquaria was that morning. She had never been away from Sharon for quite that long, and she was worried she was having separation anxiety.

Sharon weighed the odds, and finally decided to text Alaska. She did say to not hesitate, after all. She put in her contact, and started typing her message.

Sharon: Hi, Ms. Thunder. Sorry to bother you. It’s Aquaria Needles’ mom, Sharon. I just wanted to see how the day was going and if Aquaria was still nervous or upset.

Sharon opened the diet coke she had brought with her outside for her break, and tried to relax as she waited for a response. Almost immediately after she put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzed.

Alaska: Hey Sharon! The day has gone swimmingly so far. Aquaria has settled in wonderfully, and she doesn’t seem anxious at all anymore. It’s after-lunch nap time right now, and she is sound asleep on her nap mat next to her new friend Brianna.

Sharon smiled at the news that Aquaria had made a friend. Thank God, she thought.

Sharon: That’s great! Thank you so much for the update. I’ve been worried about her all day.

Sharon took another sip of diet coke, and a new message came through.

Alaska: I’m so glad I was able to make you feel better. See you this afternoon for dismissal!

Sharon put her phone away, pleased, and headed back to work.

It very quickly became time for her to go pick up Aquaria, and as she excitedly drove to the school, her phone started ringing. Her caller ID said it was Alaska.

“Hi, Ms. Thunder. Dismissal is at 3, correct? I’m not late am I? I’m on my way to the school righ-”

Alaska interrupted her hesitantly. “Hi, Sharon… you aren’t late yet. I… umm… I’m afraid there’s been an accident here on the playground at school. Aquaria has fallen off the monkey bars and hurt her arm pretty badly.”

Sharon’s heart sank. “Oh my God, is she okay?!”

“She’s fine, but she should probably get it checked out. She’s in the nurse’s office, so you should go straight there.”

“I will, okay, thank you so much for calling, Alask- Ms. Thunder.”

“Of course. Keep me updated if you will. I’m so sorry.”

Sharon sped into that all too familiar parking lot, and made a beeline into the front of the school.

“Where’s the nurse’s office? My baby is hurt,” Sharon bluntly greeted the receptionist.

“Are you Aquaria’s mom? Poor little thing. She’s in the nurse’s office. Right this way.”

The receptionist led a nerve-wracked Sharon down a slender corridor and into a little makeshift nurse’s office. On the medical bed sat a quietly crying Aquaria nestled in Alaska’s arms, across from an older lady who was presumably the nurse.

Sharon knelt in front of her daughter and cupped her cheeks in her hands. She looked at Alaska worriedly. “Aquaria! Baby! What happened? Are you okay? Tell me everything!”

Aquaria sat up a little, seemingly already less upset now that Sharon had made it there. “I was doing the monkey bars for the very first time with my friend Brianna and then I slipped and fell on my arm and it hurts really, really, really bad.” She tried to gesture with her arms the magnitude of how really, really bad it hurt, and winced when she moved her hurt arm.

“Oh, baby…” Sharon carefully picked up her daughter out of Ms. Thunder’s arms, being extra careful with her hurt arm. As she did so, she looked over Aquaria’s shoulder and mouthed a sincere “thank you so much” to a sweetly smiling Alaska.

Alaska chimed in, “Aquaria was such a big girl climbing on the monkey bars, and then she was so brave after she got hurt, you should be really proud.”

Sharon looked at Aquaria. “You have had a big day, haven’t you Aquaria? And now we should probably go get your arm checked out at the doctor, so it’s not over yet.”

After a couple minutes, Alaska stood up from the bed and lovingly touched Aquaria’s shoulder.

“Alright, ladies, I better get back to my class. Principal Monsoon probably has more important work to do than watch my class watch Magic School Bus. Aquaria, I hope you feel better super soon, sweetie. I can’t wait to have you back at school!”

Aquaria hugged Alaska around the waist with her not-hurt arm. Looking up at her, she quietly proclaimed, “Thank you for taking care of me, Ms. Thunder. I’m so glad you’re my teacher.”

Alaska smiled down at her and responded with an equally quiet, “I’m so glad too.”

Aquaria suddenly winced again, and turning to Sharon, said, “Ok, mama, I think it’s time to go to the doctor now.”

After a painful and emotional car ride to the hospital, Sharon and Aquaria were sat in a semi-crowded waiting room at the emergency room. Aquaria was flipping through an issue of Vogue, looking at the pictures, and Sharon mostly stared at her.

“I’m so sorry your first day went so wrongly, babydoll. I never would have guessed we’d end up here today.”

Aquaria didn’t look up from her magazine. “It’s ok, mama. I should have been more careful. Just because I am a big kid who goes to kindergarten doesn’t mean I don’t need to be careful anymore.”

Sharon smiled at her. “That’s a great point, my pretty.”

Just as she finished speaking, her phone buzzed.

Alaska: Have you gotten any results or anything back yet? Is it broken? Does she need to have a cast? How is she feeling?

Sharon: We’re still in the waiting room, unfortunately. She’s in pretty good spirits, though.

Alaska: Sorry for my overbearing questions. I’m just worried about her. That was a pretty bad fall, and I know those monkey bars are no joke from personal experience.

Sharon: Thank you so much for your concern. And… personal experience?

Alaska: Oh… uhm… I was testing them out? For the kids?

Sharon: Ha, sure, ok.

Sharon chuckles to herself. Aquaria, still not looking up, says, “what’re you laughing at, mama?”

“Oh, nothing, ladybug. Ms. Thunder just said something funny.” Aquaria looks up at Sharon now.

“I like Ms. Thunder,” Aquaria says matter-of-factly, “she’s funny and nice, and when I hurt my arm, she carried me all the way to the nurse’s office and held me the whole entire time, just like you do when I don’t feel good.”

“That’s great, baby,” Sharon smiled, “I like her too.”

Just as they fell into another comfortable silence, Aquaria’s name was called to see the doctor.

The doctor said that she did indeed break her forearm, and that she needed a cast. Aquaria’s main concern, however, was picking the perfect shade for her cast to be.

“I think I am going to pick this beautiful light pink, mama.”

“That is beautiful! But isn’t your favorite color green? Do you want it to be a green cast?”

Aquaria stared at the pink swatch in front of her.

“No, I like this color the best. It is the same one as Ms. Thunder’s nails, and they’re super pretty.”

Sharon laughed lightly. “Okay, babydoll. Whichever you want!”

On the drive home, Aquaria finally told her mom about all the fun things that went on in kindergarten before the dreadful monkey bar incident. She explained how Ms. Thunder taught them songs about nature and counting, about how her friend Brianna sat by her at lunch, and about how there was a mean girl named Eureka that made Brianna cry.

When they finally got home, Sharon finally sat down and got a chance to update Alaska. She told her all about the diagnosis, about how she chose the color of her cast, and Aquaria’s emotional state. Alaska then asked if they needed anything.

Sharon: Oh, no no no. You’ve helped so much already, you don’t even know.

Alaska: Well thank you, but I’m just doing my job! Do you guys at least have something to eat for dinner?

Dinner? Sharon looked at the time. It was already 7pm. Ugh. Shit.

Sharon: Woah, I thought it was like 4. I’m sure I can scrounge up something that will suffice. Thank you again, though

Alaska: You both have had such a crazy day. Let me bring something over, please. It is no problem at all, seriously.

Sharon: No way, that’s way too much trouble!

Alaska: Please, I insist! Just give me your address and I’ll be over asap

Sharon felt a twang of giddiness wash over her. She looked over at Aquaria playing with her barbies on the living room floor (one handed), and smiled. What a crazy day it was turning out to be.

About 20 minutes later, the doorbell rang. Sharon opened it up to Alaska holding four giant bags of food.

“Hi! Thank you for letting me bring dinner! I hope you guys like Chinese food. Also, I hope there’s room in your freezer.” She opened up one of the bags to reveal a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream.

“Oh my god, did Aquaria tell you we had planned to get ice cream after school? I had totally forgotten with everything else going on. Thank you so much!”

Sharon, Aquaria, and Alaska ate and laughed around Sharon’s tiny breakfast table, until there was no Chinese food left and only a little bit of ice cream. They discussed the events of the school day, what happened at the emergency room, the color of Aquaria’s cast, about Alaska’s cat, Poundcake, and her antics. Eventually, Sharon put on a movie for Aquaria, and went back to the table to chat with Alaska.

“So, I’m assuming that not every teacher Aquaria is gonna have is going to bring dinner after the first day of school.”

Alaska laughed. “Probably not, unfortunately.”

“Thank you so much, again. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Getting Chinese takeout is my first day of school tradition, and I’m happy to share it with someone.”

Sharon smiled at her gratefully, then glanced across to see that Aquaria had fallen asleep on the couch.

“We’re happy to have you as well. Even if you don’t bring dinner and ice cream.”

Eventually, it was time for Alaska to head home. Sharon led her to the door, where they both stopped in the doorframe.

“Thank you so much, Alaska. We both had fun, we should do it again.”

“Absolutely! I hope Aquaria feels better soon. She’s had a big day.”

They pause, looking at each other intently. Alaska speaks first.

“Well, I’ll see you both bright and early for day 2 of kindergarten. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Alaska.”

Alaska turns and walks down the first couple steps up Sharon’s front porch. Suddenly she turns, as if having forgotten something. As she opens her mouth to speak, Sharon leaves the threshold and runs towards Alaska, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. They both have frenzied butterflies in their stomachs.

They break apart, again staring intently at each other. This time Sharon breaks the silence.

“See you in the morning, Ms. Thunder.”

Alaska smiles a hazy, blushed grin, and slowly turns to walk to her car, as Sharon watches from the doorframe. Maybe kindergarten wasn’t going to be so frightening after all.

#rpdr fanfiction #shalaska #aquaria & sharon #sharon needles #aquaria #alaska thunderfuck #mom!sharon #fluff #joanne #mother/daughter #parenting au

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pancakesfor2 · 5 years

Text

i think it’s time (for me to rest) - b.b

Pairing: none this just 2.5k of Bucky

Word count: 2.5k ish

Summary: after a battle, Bucky finds something that’ll change the course of his whole life.

A/N: started this literally months ago, finished it within the past two days and it’s literally my favorite thing that I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

The battle had finally ended and all Bucky Barnes wanted to do was get back to the tower. He’d just started an episode of Stranger Things when they’d gotten the call to assemble and he wanted to get back and finish it. He’d ended up all the way across town from the Tower, so he was about to text Tony to send him a ride when he heard what sounded like a baby crying. He’d thought that he was the only person on the street, with everyone else having fled at the sight of the latest monster, so hearing another person, especially a baby was pretty weird.

The crying was so faint that he’d never have been able to pick it before the serum. Luckily, his enhanced hearing lead him straight to a car that’d been flipped upside down during the fight. At first, he couldn’t see the source of the sound, just the car and a woman who was almost definitely dead. The closer he got to the two, the louder crying got. So the only place the kid could he was under the car.

Bucky crouched down to try and get a closer look and just as he thought, the baby was trapped underneath the car. Luckily it didn’t seem to be hurt, just stuck, so he lifted up the car using his metal arm and pulled the baby out from underneath with the other. Getting back up, he cradled the child against his chest and took another look at the woman on the floor. She must’ve been the kid’s mom, but it wasn’t like he could bring her back to life to give her back her kid.

The baby was wearing a little blue dress, and had a bow in their hair, so Bucky assumed that it was a girl. Her sobs had lulled to just whimpers as he stroked her head and murmured, “it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, shh…”

He didn’t really know what to do with the girl, but he couldn’t exactly leave her alone, so he decided to take her back to the tower with him and see if he could find another one of her relatives. The woman had her purse on the ground next to her, so before leaving, Bucky went through it and found her wallet. He figured that having her ID would help Tony to find the rest of the girls’ family.

Satisfied that the rest of the area was clear, he called Tony to send them a ride. He didn’t want to drop the baby, so he balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Barnes?” came Tony’s voice through the phone, “Where are you? Fight’s been over for like half an hour, you lose your phone or something?”

“I didn’t lose my phone—I found a baby—her mom is dead, so I’m bringing her back with me,” he explained, “gonna need a car though, can’t really walk the streets with a little girl.”

“I got you Barnes, there’s a car waiting for you just around the block, I’ll see you when you get here.”

At this point, the baby had stopped crying completely and seemed to be fascinated by his metal arm, poking at it and giggling.

One of Bucky’s favorite things about the future was the technology. He was excited by everything from the microwave to the latest tech that Tony cooked up in his lab. Like the driverless car that he’d sent to pick them up.

He didn’t know where it came from, but somehow he knew exactly how to hold the little girl. When he’d just been defrosted, Steve had told him that he’d had sisters back in the 40’s, but he didn’t remember much about them. There wasn’t a car seat, and she couldn’t sit up by herself so he couldn’t exactly strap a seatbelt across her chest, so he held the baby close to him, instinctively rubbing small circles into her back to soothe her. By the time they’d gotten to the garage in the tower basement, she’d fallen asleep, probably tired out from all the crying.

Getting out of the car, he saw Steve waiting for him by the elevators. “Hey Buck!” called Steve from the other side of the room, “Is that the kid?”

“Yeah, quiet down a bit though, she’s sleeping” he said smiling down at the baby in his arms. The two men walked into the elevator, which took them up to the Avenger’s floors of the tower.

As they walked into the living room Steve turned to him, “You wanna drop her off in your room?” he asked, gesturing at the baby as they walked towards the debriefing room.

“Good idea, it can get pretty loud, and poor thing’s already been through enough today. She doesn’t need to face the team on top of it.”

The two parted ways, with Steve going into the meeting room and Bucky continuing on towards his bedroom. He set the little girl down in the middle of his bed, and made a cocoon out of some of his extra blankets. He had to dig out some of the extra soft ones that Tony bought him when he’d first moved into the tower. Satisfied that she wouldn’t roll over and fall out of the bed, he asked Friday let him know if she woke up while he was gone.

He couldn’t figure out what it was, but the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to protect her. For someone who’d spent so long as a murder machine, it was nice to know that he still had the ability to feel protective of another person. Sure he loved Steve, but that was brotherly love, and he definitely didn’t need his protection anymore.

He walked into the meeting room and sat down in his usual seat, between Sam and Tony. Steve was standing at the front of the room and once the last person filed in he started to speak, “Okay! Does anyone want to start us off?”

“It was pretty much a regular battle, nothing special really,” said Sam.

“I don’t know if Barnes would agree with you there,” interjected Tony, being one of the two other Avengers who knew about the baby.

“Uh yeah,” he began, “I found a kid stuck under a car.”

“A kid?” asked Natasha.

“Well—more like a baby really—I heard her crying on my way back here, her mom was dead so I brought her back here,” he explained, looking to see how the rest of the team would react.

“You brought a baby to the tower?” asked Bruce, “You know how dangerous it is here? She could be in serious danger.”

“She’s asleep in my room, how much danger could she possibly be in? Plus it’s safer here than under a car,” replied Bucky. “Anyways, I picked up the mother’s wallet so we can use the ID to find her family.”

The others pitched in with their opinions on Bucky’s decision to bring the baby back to the tower, but before the conversation could get too heated, Steve interjected, “I think we’re done here,” he announced. “Sam was right, nothing special happened—other than the baby of course—but nothing the whole team needs to concern themselves with, everyone but Bucky and Tony is dismissed.”

Once everyone was gone, Tony began to speak, “If you give me the ID I can have Friday run it. I’ll also have her order some clothes and other baby shit.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Steve.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “While you do that, I’m gonna go back to my room to stay with the baby.” He didn’t like leaving her alone for too long, even if she was asleep and under Friday’s watch.

In his bedroom, the baby was still sound asleep, looking as if she hadn’t even moved. Bucky had nothing he really needed to do, well other than his mission report, but that could be done some other time. He was pretty tired, so he decided to take a nap.

While changing into more comfortable clothes, he figured that the kid would probably feel better if she was wearing something cleaner, so he took out his smallest t-shirt. Being careful not to wake her up, he unbuttoned the little dress and slipped it off her, putting his shirt on instead.

Satisfied, he climbed into bed, instinctively pulling the little girl close to his chest. He must’ve been more tired than he thought, because he quickly fell asleep, his last thoughts being that he hoped Tony could find out the baby’s name, because he was getting a little tired of referring to her as “the kid” in his head.

He woke up to the sound of crying. It was only a couple of hours later, and the kid was awake. Luckily, Bucky was a pretty light sleeper, so he was awake right away. He was going to ask Friday what to do about the baby, but as soon as he picked her up she quieted down, wrapping one of her tiny fingers around his larger one. His heart began to race and it was then that he knew he was so gone for her already, and he didn’t even know her name yet.

He was running his fingers through the dark wisps of her hair when he heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” he called, not bothering to get out of bed.

Tony walked into his room and announced, “Thanks to Friday, I know everything about this little one, from her birthday to her social security number!”

“That’s great man, does she have any family?” Bucky didn’t know what he wanted the answer to his question to be. Logically he knew she’d be better off with people actually related to her, but there was a part of him that never wanted to let her go.

“Unfortunately, it was just Rebecca and her mom, meaning now she’s all alone—”

“Wait a second. Did you say Rebecca?” A million years ago he had a sister named Rebecca.

“—yeah that’s her name. So as I was saying, she’ll probably go into the system; she’s young though, so she’ll probably be adopted quickly.

Something about that didn’t sit right with Bucky. He knew orphanages were nothing like the way they were when he was younger, but he didn’t feel right even thinking about the possibility of a little girl with his sister’s name getting lost in the system. “What if—what if I kept her?”

Tony paused, taking in what Bucky had just suggested, “You know you can’t take care of a baby and be an Avenger at the same time,” he said slowly

“What if I don’t want to be an Avenger anymore?” And he didn’t anymore, he hadn’t for a while now really. Over 60 years of fighting was enough, he just wanted to rest.

Tony did a double take, “I’m sorry what?”

“I’ve just—uh—I’ve been fighting for so long you know? And I don’t know if that’s really what I want to do with the rest of my life. I haven’t talked about this to anyone but Steve, but finding this little girl who just happens to share a name with my sister has to be some kind of sign.” He felt like it was the universe giving him a way out, not that he really needed one. If he really wanted to retire, he knew he’d have the support of everyone that mattered behind him.

“Hey man, if you’re serious about this, I’ll do whatever I can to help you out,” said Tony, basically voicing Bucky’s thoughts. “I know the rest of the Avengers will too.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m gonna think it all through tonight, and I’ll tell the team at breakfast tomorrow I guess.”

“Whatever you want Bucky, we’re behind you,” he reiterated, getting up to leave the room. “I think the clothes I ordered are here, I’ll have one of the bots bring them up here, along with some food.”

“Thanks Tony, I really appreciate it.” He was talking about more than the clothes and food, and he knew that Tony what he meant.

-----

The next morning he puts Rebecca in a dress with little Captain America shields on it and brings her down to breakfast with him. The rest of the team are already there, which was great because then he’d only have to make his announcement once.

They were preoccupied with their own conversations, but when he stood at the top of the table and cleared his throat, their attention went to him. “I have an announcement to make. I’ve really enjoyed my time as a part of this team, and I’ll always be grateful to you guys for accepting me the way you did after Steve brought me back, but I think it’s time for me to move on.”

“Is this because of the kid?” interrupted Sam.

“It’s not. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, she was just the final push to really make a decision. I’m tired of fighting,” he smiled down at the baby in his arms, “I think it’s time for me to rest.”

“That’s great Buck,” said Steve, with the others piping up to agree with him.

As Bucky took his seat at the table, Rebecca took ahold of his finger once again and began to giggle. The love that swelled up in his heart was confirmation enough that he’d definitely made the right decision.

fin.

permanant tags (open) : @supernatural-girl97 @viarogers @stuckyandsciencebros @animeflower26 @mood-pancakes @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @magicalmess @momobaby227 also tagging @mypassionsarenysins bc ily

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #single dad bucky #dad!bucky #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #mywriting

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peter-parkner · 4 years

Note

happy spooky season! for the prompts: 60. "If you say Halloween one more time-” “You’ll kiss me.” // you’re a doll and i adore you

Happy Halloween 🎃💖 What’s All Hallows’ Eve without a supernatural Parkner AU?

The ‘H’ Word

Peter Parker hadn’t meant to make a binding oath with his best friend over the ‘h’ word, but it just sort of…happened. It was a crisp, autumn day in New York City and exactly two weeks until Halloween. Peter, MJ, Ned and Harley were gathered around their usual table in the Student Union for lunch in between work and classes:

“Keener, I swear to God if you say Halloween one more time –”

“You’ll kiss me,” Harley stated matter of fact.

“What? Noooo,” Peter’s voice pitched an octave higher as his face scrunched up in confusion.

“No, I’m serious I had a vision. The next time I say ‘Halloween’ you, Peter Parker, are going to kiss me.”

“No.”

Harley was a little taken aback by the man’s response. “No like, no, you don’t want to kiss me?”

“No, as in, I don’t believe in visions dictating my future.” Peter was a little flustered by the straightforwardness of Harley’s question, but masked it by crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He was resolute in his position on the matter. “I mean, how legit can it be anyway? What if you said ‘Halloween’ right now? No offense, Harls, but I definitely don’t have an urge to kiss you.”

MJ butt into their conversation, “Parker, when has he been wrong before?’

Peter frowned. He believed Harley’s visions, hell, they all did. They’d gotten the quartet out of some seriously sticky situations before. Peter just…didn’t like being told what to do – and that applied to visions of the future as well. His future, specifically.

“Yeah Parker, when have I been wrong before.” Harley’s smile was all teeth as he parroted MJ. It looked almost lupine. “Besides, if you’re so sure that I’m wrong, why don’t I just say it right now?”

“No!” Peter involuntarily held up a hand before Harley could continue. He almost surprised himself at the ferocity of his objection.

Harley didn’t speak, but the look he gave Peter spoke volumes: You do believe me. The two men held a mini staring contest from across the table before Harley finally yielded, breaking their eye contact.

“Fine, I won’t say Hal – the ‘h’ word unless you want me to.”

“Unless I…want…you to.” Peter’s ears started turning red as a steady flush made its way across his pale skin. He looked like his brain hadn’t quite caught up to Harley’s words.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not gonna swear off saying the ‘h’ word my entire life just for you.” Harley arched an eyebrow at Peter. A statement and a challenge.

“Shake on it?”

“Sure,” Harley chuckled while he extended an arm across the table toward Peter.

“No, I mean shake on it.”

Peter stood up abruptly from the table, pushing his chair back in the process. The metal shrieked across the floor. As he looked down at Harley, Peter’s expression was dead serious. All traces of previous teasing were gone.

“Wha – Peter, you want to make a binding oath over one word?” Harley was flabbergasted at the request and stood up as well. He wouldn’t lie, he was a little offended too.

Peter jutted out his chin, face still flushed. “Yeah, and?”

“Oh, this is gonna be great.” MJ could barely suppress her laughter. Pearly white fangs glistened under the overhead lights when she grinned. Ned continued eating his sandwich beside her, wide-eyed as he stared at the two men squaring off with each other.

Harley rolled his eyes, but finally obliged. He pushed back the sleeves of his maroon sweater and extended his right arm once again. “Fine, but you have to do it.”

So Peter did. He met Harley’s handshake and uttered a few words. Their interlocked hands glowed a faint silver before going back to normal.

“I can’t believe you…” Harley trailed off as he gathered the remnants of his lunch and hefted his rucksack over one shoulder. The irritation was almost rolling off of him in waves; everyone else at the table could feel it too. With a turn of his heel, Harley stormed out of the Union. He dumped his trash along the way and never looked back at the trio.

–

The days immediately following Peter and Harley’s arrangement were like walking on eggshells. The two still hung out together, made stupid jokes and maintained their usual banter – but something in the air had shifted. Ned and MJ were right: when Harley saw something it always happened. The events leading up to the vision might change, but end result was inevitable.

Peter’s death sentence was as good as signed thanks to his own damn stubbornness.

“Harley, did you finish problem five?” Peter had attempted the question several times over and still couldn’t figure out the solution.

“Yeah, do you need help?” Harley pushed his textbook to the side in an effort to make more room on the crowded kitchen table.

The two were sitting across from each other in Peter’s apartment doing physics homework. It was the only class they had together this semester. Normally, they’d get together the night before the problem set was due to confer.

“All of my ideas are just wrong.” Peter’s paper was tainted grey from continuously writing and erasing. “Hey, with your visions do you ever just see the right answer? Like for a test or something?”

Harley snorted and put down his pencil, “You know it doesn’t work like that. They’re mostly linked to big events in my life – something that would…shift the usual flow of energy.”

“But like, what if the midterm was literally make-or-break for your grade? Is that life-changing enough?”

Harley snatched Peter’s paper from the table in response and started writing down the correct formulas to guide him. “Don’t you have a dead physicist relative you can contact?” He shot back.

“Touché, touché.”

After twenty more minutes of working in silence, Harley spoke again, “Are you going to Betty’s party this weekend?”

“What, her Halloween bash to celebrate the two-hundred-year anniversary of the Others’ liberation?” Peter scoffed, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Don’t be rude now, Peter.” The ghost Mary Parker chided him from the empty chair beside him. Peter rolled his eyes and she fondly patted him on the shoulder. His mother had been sitting in the kitchen with Harley and Peter for quite a while now.

After the first time, Harley got used to Mary joining in on some of their quieter evenings together. Clairvoyance was a trait passed down to Harley through his mother’s side of the family. It meant that he could sense when spirits were around, but he couldn’t see and talk to them like Peter could.

“Sorry mom,” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“Why don’t you ask Harley to go with you as your date?” Mary winked at Peter as she knocked their shoulders together.

‘Too late for that now,’ Peter wrote down on the corner of his paper for her to see. This wasn’t a conversation he was having out loud in front of Harley with the ghost of his dead mother. Besides, she already knew why he couldn’t ask that of Harley.

“Honey, I tell you all the time that you need to start working on putting your pride aside. He’s a lovely boy.” Mary stood and floated through the table to Harley’s side. She put both of her hands on his shoulders in a comforting way. Harley smiled in return, feeling her there.

Peter abruptly stood from his chair. Metal legs scraped against wooden floorboards. Harley looked up in surprise. “Sorry mom, but you need to leave.” With the wave of his hand Peter blocked his connection to the other side.

Hurriedly, Peter started shoving papers and books into his backpack. “I need to leave too. Sorry, Harley.”

“No worries. We basically finished the rest of the problem set anyway. See you in class tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Class.” Peter gave Harley a smile and a nod before leaving the other man’s apartment.

–

The bass was so heavy that the floorboards shook no matter what part of the house Peter found himself in. Betty had put soundproofing charms on the apartment, but he wasn’t sure how she’d counter the fact that the unit was literally shaking. Peter sighed and made his way closer to the alcohol.

Betty’s spiked punch bowl was enchanted to self-serve the drinker and beer bottles floated about the apartment. The shot glasses were enchanted as well to refill on command so no one had to keep going back and forth from the kitchen. Peter picked himself up a floating beer and ducked back into the hallway. He pointedly ignored the living room, which had all of its furniture pushed back to act as a makeshift dance floor. Definitely not Peter’s scene.

“Having a good time?” Peter sidled up to MJ. They had an unspoken agreement at social functions. They would find each other, loiter in the quietest place they could find and wait until the rest of their group was ready to leave.

“I’ve been to worse.” MJ sipped from her blood bag through a curly straw. She was casually leaning against the wall while staring contemplatively into the living room.

Peter joined her and surveyed the scene before them. Looking past the multitude of sweaty, drunk teens and twenty-somethings, he laid eyes on Ned and Betty dancing near the mock-DJ stand. Cute. Peter’s eyes continued roving the room and found Flash trying to chat up some poor underclassman. He rolled his eyes; Peter had hoped Flash’s change would coincide with Betty’s party – but no such luck.

Slowly, his gaze landed on Harley. He was leaning in a little too close in a corner a little too dark to talk to some girl. Peter stiffened and bitterly looked down at his beer, wishing he had the luxury of becoming rip roaring drunk. His senses needed to be relatively unhindered though, lest his control over his abilities would slip.

“Technically, this is your fault,” MJ’s voice startled Peter out of his thoughts.

“Wh – what do you mean?”

“That could be you with Harley in a dark corner if you weren’t so stubborn,” MJ’s voice was monotone as she continued sipping from her blood bag.

Peter shifted uncomfortably and pushed off of the wall, suddenly desperate to escape MJ’s suffocating stare. So much for their antisocial camaraderie. Like a gravitational pull, Peter found himself slowly making his way closer and closer to where Harley was on the makeshift dance floor. The beating of his heart echoed the thump-thumping of the bass.

Harley saw him coming from across the room and excused himself from his current conversation. “Enjoying the party so far?” He asked Peter when they met in the middle.

“I’ve been to worse.” His phrasing mimicked MJ’s from earlier. Peter was sweating and he couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or the cloying heat trapped in Betty’s apartment.

The two stood in silence as the party raged on around them. The bass was felt down to their bones, sweaty bodies bumped into them left and right and the glare of overhead party lights flickered into their eyes on occasion. This probably wasn’t the right time for the conversation that Peter and Harley desperately needed to have, but if Peter didn’t say something soon he was certain that he’d burst.

“I’m sorry I went and made things weird,” the words felt foreign coming out of Peter’s mouth and he had to awkwardly shout to be heard over the music.

“No, it’s definitely my fault for springing it on you. I just…forget sometimes that, just because something is bound to happen, it doesn’t mean that everyone in my visions want it to.”

Peter was tiring of having to yell. He grabbed Harley by the arm and dragged him through the kitchen and into the adjoining hallway. Thankfully, MJ had wandered off at one point. Only a few other stragglers and couples inhabited the hall now.

“Well, that’s just the thing. I kind of want you to say it.”

“What?” The surprise of being manhandled into another part of the apartment had worn off. Now, Harley’s confusion was purely from Peter’s admission.

Peter started shifting uncomfortably and sighed, exasperated. “You know what, Harley.”

“Do I though?” Harley knew exactly what Peter meant, but it was more fun for him to play dumb.

“Yes! I want you to say the…the ‘h’ word.” Peter’s cheeks had taken on a nice rosy blush in the dim hallway lighting.

Harley arched an eyebrow. “Which ‘h’ word? Hello, help, hamburger, history, hollow –”

Peter abruptly cut Harley off before he could continue rattling off his mental list. “Halloween. I want you to say ‘Halloween.’”

“I thought you’d never ask.” A sly grin made its way onto Harley’s face as he gently pushed Peter back and against the adjacent wall. He leaned down until he was level with Peter’s ear and whispered into it, “Happy Halloween, Peter.”

Peter grinned as Harley made his way back to face him. He slipped a hand through Peter’s expertly gelled hair and gently cupped the back of his head. Using the hold as leverage, Harley tilted Peter’s head up so their lips could meet in a kiss.

#parkner #parley #harleypeter #harley x peter #spiderlad #potatowebs #parkner halloween week 2019 #parkner halloween week #halloween fic #halloween request #prompt request #halloween prompt #writeraj #fic #ao3 #fic request #happy halloween #supernatural au

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spaceskam · 5 years

Text

I’m Not Afraid of Anything

Summary: 6 times Alex is strong and 1 time Michael has to be strong for him

warnings: violence, anxiety, homophobic language

ao3

.1.

Michael couldn’t help but smile as Alex moaned into his mouth.

He wasn’t used to this just yet, it still felt surreal. One day Alex was asking him to tutor him in biology, the next he was being kissed senseless against the wall in the shed behind his house. He’d never even kissed a human before Alex. Now he couldn’t get enough.

“What time did you tell your mom you’d be home?” Alex asked softly, his nose bumping Michael’s before he kissed his cheek and moved to his jaw.

“Um,” Michael whispered, his eyes fluttering closed to the feeling of Alex’s lips on his skin, “F-five, I think. Could probably, uh, um, push it to five-thirty.”

“Mmm, good,” Alex said, a lazy smirk on his face as he flipped them over so Michael was on top. Heat rose to his cheeks. Alex usually took the lead, usually stayed on top. But, when Alex’s hands pressed against his ass and pulled his hips impossibly close, he got the memo.

It was so weird. His entire life he’d been told to be careful with humans. When the Antarians had fled their wartorn planet in the 40s, they’d landed on Earth to a different kind of chaos. Michael didn’t know too much about how it got to a safe-ish integration, but he’d seen enough 50s and 60s propaganda films on ‘How to Treat Our Antar Friends’. It was enough to know it wasn’t an entirely positive transition.

While there was no longer forced segregation, it still seemed to happen on its own. Michael’s neighborhood didn’t have a single human‒Alex’s didn’t have a single Antarian. Workplaces were hell. Antarians got paid less, they got passed on promotions, they had to fight their way to the top. Michael’s mother, as high as her position was being deputy city manager, had warned him of that. In the schools, most classes conveniently didn’t mix if they didn’t have to and most of the time they didn’t even communicate with their species. Well, unless it was to be rude. Michael understood that better than anyone.

It was virtually impossible to keep what species you were a secret. It was displayed on every legal document, including your license. Antarian children in elementary and middle school had “special time” where they would be taken for two hours a day and given what could only be described as group therapy. No matter how their powers manifested, no matter if they had never been violent a day in their life, they were still given group lectures about why they shouldn’t hurt people and how they should treat humans. Once they were in high school, that transformed into a required four years of Ability Training instead of normal electives in high school.

Michael was lucky. His mother started training him the minute his powers started to manifest as a baby. After she bitched at the school for unfair treatment, he was able to test out after freshman year, leaving him able to take actual electives like music.

Which is how he met Alex.

“Alex?” Michael whispered, melting into the feather-light kisses fluttering across his jaw and his neck and his shoulder. Alex’s hand mindlessly slipped between them and unbuttoned Michael’s jeans.

“Yeah, baby?” Alex asked, his hand dipping into Michael’s boxers. It may or may not have completely destroyed his train of thought, his head bowing against Alex’s collarbone.

Eventually, he got his thoughts back, though it took much more effort than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure you don’t mind that I’m an alien?” he breathed out and Alex froze beneath him. He very quickly pulled his head back to see Alex staring at him with nothing short of amusement.

“Michael.” His tone was so sweet and so soft that Michael almost missed how condescending it was. “My hand literally down your pants right now. Do you think it would be there if I had a problem?”

Michael felt his cheeks flush and he shifted a little bit which was genuinely a horrible idea due to the fact that Alex’s hand was still wrapped around him.

“I just don’t want you to get trouble,” he whispered. While it wasn’t illegal for aliens and humans to be together, it was relatively frowned upon and it also wasn’t exactly fun to be openly queer either. They’d have double targets on their backs. Alex didn’t deserve that.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Alex said, completely ignoring his words as he went to kiss his neck. Michael reluctantly pulled away.

“But what about your dad?” Michael asked. He knew Alex’s dad was the worst. He was an outspoken advocate for Antarians not being allowed in the same school as humans or even on TV. He didn’t want his children to be exposed to them. Yet, Alex didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

Alex pulled away, looking at him with those penetrating eyes that made his stomach swoop and tie in a million knots. They were eyes that could kill, but eyes that made him feel more welcome and adored than anything else in the world.

“You’re worth the risk,” Alex said like it was easy. Michael let out a slow breath of air, taking in his words. His sweet, adoring words. You’re worth the risk.

Michael tried to move in for a kiss, but Alex’s hand grabbed his jaw and stopped him.

“Am I?” Alex demanded, his voice deep and hushed and making Michael’s head spin. The grip on his jaw got a little gentler, his calloused thumb rubbing across his cheek.

“Yes.”

He couldn’t say no if he wanted to.

.2.

“Is there a reason you’re hitting someone who is too nice to hit back?”

Michael had never been more thankful to see Alex than he was at that moment. Wyatt Long had him pinned to the locker, his forearm wedged beneath his chin. His lip was already split after the rude welcoming of a fist to the face the moment he, Max, and Isobel went their separate ways.

“What? And you are?” Wyatt asked, pulling away and letting Michael crumple to the ground. He watched up with a new kind of fear as Wyatt neared Alex. Though this happened relatively regularly and Alex had swooped in to save not only him but a handful of other Antarians from human assholes, it always made Michael nervous. He knew Alex didn’t care, but he had enough scars and bruises that doused his skin. He didn’t like seeing more.

“Oh, c’mon, you know I am. How many times do I have to send you to the nurse before you learn your lesson? It’s honestly pretty sad,” Alex said, smirking as his shoulders squared. Michael wanted to get to his feet, to stand up for himself, but he didn’t have it in him. Alex was brave and he wasn’t. The end.

“Are you gay or somethin’?” Wyatt accused. Alex licked his bottom lip as he took a step closer.

“Why, you interested?”

Michael watched in horror as Wyatt shoved Alex away and Alex responded by decking him in the face. He scrambled to his feet and out of the way just in time for Alex to slam Wyatt into the lockers, a carbon copy of how Wyatt had just had him.

“Learn your fuckin’ place, Long,” Alex said in a sweet tone, shaking his head before he offered one last push and stepped away. Wyatt kept glaring but never tried anything as Alex picked up Michael’s bag off the ground and led the way.

“Alex, he could’ve hurt you,” Michael grumbled as he followed him to the music room. A few people gave them glances, but none stayed too long. The moment Alex glared their way, they’d look away. Michael had a lot of feelings about that.

“I’d like to see him try. I grew up with three brothers who regularly beat the shit out of me. I’m not gonna stop ‘til I win, especially when it’s that asshole. You should’ve heard what he said to Maria the other day. Like, he’s, like, a next-level racist and homophobe and xenophobe. Let me hit him a couple of times,” Alex insisted, closing the door to the music room after him.

“I just… I don’t want you doing that stuff because of me,” Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest. Alex smiled, nearing him and gently touching the cut on Michael’s lip.

“I know you don’t like it, but I don’t like seeing you hurt. I know you, I know you just take what he gives. And that’s so fucking strong of you to do, it’s ballsy, but… he deserves to get hit. You don’t,” Alex explained, moving to give him a kiss that stung a little but still felt nice. Alex’s kisses were always nice. “But, hey, look, if you want me to stop, then I will. Seriously. As much as I hate it, I will.”

“No, you don’t have to completely stop helping me. Just… just don’t instigate him more, please?” Michael asked, letting his hands rest against Alex’s chest. They’d be alone in the room for at least 5 more minutes, he could touch for just a second.

“Done,” Alex agreed, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling him into a hug. Michael melted into his grasp. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“You’re telekinetic. I’ve seen you in action. You could literally crush him. Why don’t you do anything?” Alex asked, twirling a curl around his finger. Michael breathed slowly, hugging him a little tighter.

“And give them a reason to hate me even more? No thanks,” he grumbled. Alex laughed and squeezed him.

In some ways, Alex felt a little like his idol. He was so strong and didn’t care about what anyone said. He didn’t have many friends, but Michael knew all the Antarians in the school liked him. He took everything in stride. He was amazing. He was a hero.

And somehow he wanted Michael.

.3.

“What’s wrong with you?” Isobel asked, swatting Michael’s hand away from his mouth so he’d stop chewing on his nails. He barely even looked at her.

Instead, his eyes were trained on Alex’s locker which had the words ‘alien fag’ written across it in bright red paint.

Alex hadn’t gotten to school yet, but Michael was dreading it. He couldn’t predict how he would react to it. Maybe he would laugh or maybe he’d be pissed. It was just something that a little too close to home. No one was supposed to know about them, but this…

“Oh, yeah, his locker. It’s so stupid how people think being nice is some big crime,” she scoffed, shaking her head. Michael curled into himself even more.

“But… but what if‒” Michael cut himself off, groaning as his head tilted back against the lockers. Isobel slammed hers closed, turning to him with a smirk.

“Why? You think that’s about you?” she laughed. Michael felt his cheeks flush and he was instantly reminded of the night before when Alex had snuck in through his window after his parents had gone to sleep. It was definitely about him even if they didn’t know it was about him. He didn’t know how he was supposed to continue keeping it a secret when everyone would be giving him glances. “No offense, Michael, but Alex wouldn’t go after someone like you. He’s, like, a badass. He would only go after badasses and, I love you, but you’re a baby.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. Definitely. He-he definitely would never, ever hook up with me. Ever. Absolutely. And, and I would never even want to. I mean, he’s so, like, not my type?” Michael fumbled out, his cheeks burning hotter with each word. Isobel’s eyebrows pulled together, but then her lips parted slowly as her eyes widened.

”No,” she gasped, swatting at his arm all over again, “Oh my God! Michael!”

“He’s here,” Michael said once he spotted Alex, hoping to drop the conversation. Maybe she’d forget it. He hoped so.

Alex walked down the hall with Liz and Maria, the trio laughing until they weren’t. It died down when the locker came into view. Michael tried his best to become one with the lockers when Alex took a step closer, touching the paint. He couldn’t see his face and he was slightly more than terrified to see it. Especially when his friends looked at each other with nervous eyes.

“Michael, come on, what the fuck have you been hiding?” Isobel urged, pulling on his sleeve like a toddler. His eyes were on Alex.

Alex who opened the locker and got his books like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Alex, are you okay?” Maria asked him, reaching out to touch his arm. He turned around with an amused smile on his face.

“I’m fine. They have no creativity, it’s honestly sad,” he said simply, linking arms with them and proudly making his way down the hall. He gave Michael a wink when he passed. Jesus Christ.

“Michael,” Isobel whined.

“I-I gotta go to class,” he said, slipping away from her. He couldn’t understand why Alex took it that easy. Shouldn’t he have been insulted? Or at least scared? What would happen if someone found out about them because of this? He seemed to not be taking it seriously.

Michael pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text his way.

M: are you actually okay? What if someone finds out?

A: I'm fine dont worry no ones gonna know. See you after school? ;) xx

.4.

Michael knew Alex well. They spent most of their time together and Michael had learned just how ballsy he could be. Alex was bold and unapologetically himself. He existed somewhere between “I don’t care what you think of me” and “well if you’re going to talk, I might as well give you something to talk about”. He was an instigator at his core. So Michael really shouldn’t have been surprised when, after a weekend of barely hearing from him, Alex strolled into school sporting t-shirt with alien fag written across it in the colors of the rainbow.

“Holy shit,” Isobel gasped and Michael instantly used her as a shield as the halls parted like the Red Sea to make way for Alex Manes. For the first time since Alex approached him the first time, Michael was scared of him.

Alex didn’t deserve the ostracization that came with being with him, but Michael didn’t deserve to be forced into it either. It was one thing if it was a mutual decision or if it was an accident. This was neither. This was Alex parading proudly what people already suspected when people knew how many times he’d come to Michael’s rescue. This was too close.

Panic built in his chest.

“Izzy, Izzy, get me out of here,” he begged, squeezing her shoulder desperately. She barely had to give him a second glance before she gripped his hand and swept him away.

It seemed to get harder and harder to breathe, even when they exited the building and fast-walked to make it to the back of the gym before he got too bad. The moment they made it there, he sat on the ground and put his hands on his head. Isobel sat in front of him, holding his knees as they breathed in and out in time together.

“I take it he did not consult you before doing that?” she asked quietly once he regulated his breathing again. Michael shook his head.

“No. I don’t know why he does stuff like that. I-I get that he doesn’t care and that’s cool and all, I like that about him, but that… that affects me. I’m not ready to tell anyone yet,” he murmured, pulling his knees close.

“So you admit that you’re banging Alex Manes?” Isobel teased. Michael glared her way. “Sorry, sorry. Maybe you should talk to him about it.”

“And say what? ‘Hey, you’re really confident and, while that makes me want to fuck you, when you’re overconfident about me, it makes me want to die in a hole’?” Michael scoffed, but from her lack of reaction, she expected him to say just that. “I can’t say that!”

“Why not? It’s honest.”

“Honesty is just gonna get me dumped,” he grumbled. Isobel gave him a sad little smile, squeezing his knee gently.

They were only able to get a few extra seconds of silence before Alex rounded the corner, smiling easily when he caught Michael’s eyes. He spared Isobel a hesitant look before nearing them with that confident swagger that was making Michael feel nauseous.

“There you are,” he grinned, sitting beside him. Michael closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Everything okay?”

“I’m gonna leave you two to talk,” Isobel said, patting his leg and kissing the top of his head before she stood and left. He stupidly wished she hadn’t.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Alex asked softly once Isobel was gone, wrapping his arm around Michael’s shoulders. What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t Alex, he wasn’t confident. How was he supposed to tell him that he wanted him to stop being so much of himself? “You… you don’t like the shirt, right? I’m sorry, I’ll change.”

How did he say that’s not all?

“Okay, thank you,” Michael whispered instead, still not lifting his head.

Alex waited a minute before grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at him. It made it that much harder. Alex was beautiful and had a demanding presence. How was he supposed to hurt his feelings when he looked like that?

“Alright, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, so we’re lying now? I thought we were all about honesty,” Alex scoffed, narrowing his eyes at him. Michael gulped, familiar tears welling up in his eyes. He was such a baby. Alex was so cool and he was… “Michael, talk to me, seriously.”

“I don’t like when you do stuff like that without talking to me. I-It’s gonna make people start finding out about us and I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for people to know. At least not people who are going to make it their goal to hate me more. You-you scare me sometimes, when you do stuff like that. I like when you’re confident. I just… don’t like it when it puts me in a bad situation,” Michael grumbled, looking everywhere except for his face. Alex’s grip loosened before it dropped.

Michael hesitantly looked at him to see him looking almost confused. Go figure the one time he actually admits when something bothers him, it goes bad. It’ll always go bad, that’s how life works. Everything goes bad.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” Alex said softly, mirroring Michael’s position against the wall. Again, his breathing started to pick up and his bottom lip quivered involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just-”

“No, no, hey, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you more before I do shit. That’s what a relationship is, right? Talking it out, talking before we do things. And I know that we aren’t public and we don’t plan to be widely open until, like, way later, so I shouldn’t have done this. It just pisses me off when people think it’s wrong to be anything other than what they are. I mean, I love you, Michael. You’re not an insult. I wanted to throw it in their face,” Alex explained.

Michael sniffled, “You love me?” Alex rolled his eyes, but gave a sweet smile.

“You’re getting off-topic. We’re gonna talk more, right?”

“Right,” Michael agreed, nodding and feeling a little bit lighter than he had when the day started. The two stared at each other for a moment before meeting halfway in a hug.

Alex gave great hugs and it was easy to melt into it. He considered asking to skip class for the day, but decided it against it. His mom would never let him live that down if she found out he skipped. So, instead, Michael hugged him tighter and then let him go so he could take his shirt off and replace it with the jacket tucked in his bag.

“I love you too, by the way,” Michael said as they stood up. Alex grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

“I’m glad.”

.5.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

Michael looked over to Alex’s innocent little smile. He had his feet in Michael’s lap which usually wouldn’t be a problem, but he was doing a lot more than just innocently using him as a footrest.

“I have a biology test tomorrow and you are distracting me,” Michael said, watching Alex furrow his eyebrows in confusion even as he pressed his foot harder between Michael’s thighs. He worked hard to keep silent, dropping his book to move his hands to Alex’s foot. “Also, my parents are downstairs.”

“Sounds like a whole flight of stairs between them and us,” Alex said, moving his foot to pull the chair towards his place on the bed.

“Alex,” he breathed slowly, finding it harder and harder to resist. Why did he have to be so hot? “Seriously, I have a test. And so do you. We… you came over to study.” Michael tried, he really did, but the closer Alex came, the more his excuses seemed shitty in comparison to him.

“I mean,” Alex breathed, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, “I can leave. I just wanted to spend some… special time with my boyfriend.”

“Alex,” Michael whined, helplessly gravitating from the chair and to the bed. Alex wasted no time, pulling him into the little twin-sized bed and moving him so he was trapped between the wall and Alex’s body. He couldn’t say he could complain.

Alex’s kisses had quickly become some of Michael’s favorites. He’d had a few kisses here and there, one of them being with Isobel which was actually revolting, but he had never had anything like Alex. All of his were deep and slow and used tongue which was fun. Alex was the first person he’d ever really wanted to touch and be touched by‒and it always felt like a blessing when it actually happened. He couldn’t think of a nicer, gentler, or prettier person to lose his virginity to.

“Did you lock the door?” Alex whispered, his leg hooking over Michael’s hip and his fingers sliding lower.

“Um, no,” Michael breathed, his whole body heating up as he chose to be confident for once and slid his hand down Alex’s jeans first. He immediately checked to make sure it was okay and saw Alex smirking, so he grabbed him.

“You should probably lock the door if you’re gonna do that, baby,” he said hotly, a shaky breath following immediately after. He was making a whole lot of eye contact and it was making Michael’s head spin.

“You want me to get up?”

“I was thinking my telekinetic boyfriend could, uh, lock the door with his mind,” Alex suggested. Michael smiled, giving him a slow kiss as he tilted his head to secure the lock.

Except it didn’t budge.

He tried it a couple more times and when it still seemed to be fighting him, he pulled away from Alex to look over at it. He used the hand that wasn’t in Alex’s jeans to give it a little more concentration to flip the lock and it did. But immediately unlocked again.

“What the‒”

“Here’s your clean clothes, Michael, and I told you to keep the door unlocked.”

Michael nearly pushed Alex off the bed when his mother, Mara, let herself into the room. She stood in the doorway, a far too motherly look on her face and her hand firmly on her hip. Michael sat up, trying to make himself look presentable while Alex mainly focused on catching his breath even though he was clearly about two seconds away from laughing. Michael thought about actually pushing him off the bed this time.

“Looks like a lot of studying going on here,” she said, gesturing between the two of them before the books that were on the floor floated neatly to his dresser.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Guerin,” Alex said, lifting himself off the bed and walking over to her with his hand outstretched. Michael’s head hit the wall and he considered jumping out the window. “I’m Alex, Alex Manes.”

Mara blinked a few times before sharply turning her gaze to Michael. “Manes? As in Jesse Manes?” Michael sunk back to the bed with a groan.

“Uh, yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re dating my son? An Antarian?”

“Mom!” Michael begged, looking to her in desperation. Still, Alex was all smiles.

“Yes, ma’am. But, you know, I can assure you I don’t exactly subscribe to my father’s politics. Not even just with the ‘no alien’ rule, but, you know, the ‘no queer’ rule. He’s actually kind of the worst, so,” he laughed, turning his stupidly beautiful smile on Michael.

“Well, Alex, would you like to stay for dinner? That is, if my son can understand what an unlocked door means,” Mara said, giving him a tight smile. Alex had the audacity to laugh.

“I would love to stay for dinner, thank you. And we’ll even leave the door open instead, if you’d like,” he said and it took a lot not to pelt him with pillows. She smiled.

“I like you. I like this one, Michael,” Mara said, opening the door wide before walking out and leaving the boys alone. Michael immediately shoved his face into the pillow, groaning loudly. Not only did she ruin a really great moment, but Alex was just way too okay with it.

“Why are you freaking out? It’s not like we were naked. And I think we covered up what was happening pretty elegantly,” Alex teased, not-so-sweetly swatting him on the stomach. Michael moved the pillow to glare at him. “What?”

“Remember when I said sometimes your ballsy-ness is annoying? This is one of those times,” Michael grumbled, letting Alex laugh and pull his head into his lap.

“Michael, baby, have you looked at me?” Alex asked and he nodded slowly, “Your mother just came in on you not only making out with a guy, but one who has piercings and makeup and a lot of black. On top of the fact that I’m human. And I’m my father’s son. So it was either that or let your mother hate me for the rest of our relationship.”

“Why do you have to be right all the damn time?”

.6.

“Tell your mom thanks for lunch because holy shit.”

Michael watched with a smile as Alex shoveled his mother’s leftovers into his mouth as they sat behind the gym. He was a little too aware of Alex’s food situation. His father would get so much and it was first come first serve with five grown-ass men in the house. He’d gotten into a habit of food hoarding, but even then, sometimes he didn’t get enough. Ever since dinner where Michael had to begrudgingly explain to his parents that he was bisexual, he’d been asking his mother to make lunch for two.

“She will probably say you’re welcome.”

After the whole coming out scene, they told him that he didn’t have to, that they put it together which made it even more embarrassing. He was endlessly reassured that no one cared about that, but that they did care about his safety. Michael’s parents gave them both a long talk about being careful because they were dealing with a couple of different layers of stupidity. It was over an hour of discussing how they planned to handle it if people found out and, if the time came, how they planned to make it public. There was even a lot of reassuring that they cared about not only Michael’s safety but Alex’s as well. It was long and weird, but oddly cathartic and while Michael came out of it feeling a little flustered, Alex was very visibly in one of the best moods he’d ever seen. He had at least 30 texts of Alex gushing over how much he loved his parents. He came over nearly every day now.

“Did I tell you I got an interview?” Alex said, smiling even with a mouthful of food. “Get this, it’s at the UFO Emporium.” Michael snorted.

“Alex, that place is such bullshit. They’ve tried to get it shut down like seven times,” he chuckled. The place opened the year after the crash and started out as a place for humans to learn about Antar. However, it really wasn’t accurate and it became the subject of controversy from the moment Antarians started becoming a permanent fixture on Earth. That being said, it still hadn’t closed. Michael went there with Isobel and Max a few times purely for the laughs. “Why do you want to work there?”

“It’ll get my dad off my dick about getting a job. Might as well get a job at a place that literally has, like, no customers,” Alex shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows at Michael, “You can hang out all the time.”

“Alex!”

Both boys whipped their heads around to see Liz Ortecho headed their way with a smile. Michael could feel the panic in him rising at the sight of her. He knew she was nice and that Max had the world’s biggest crush on her, but he didn’t know what she knew about him and Alex. He still wasn’t ready for everyone in the world to know, but it would be fair for one of Alex’s friends to know since Isobel knew. It was a mess. He was a mess.

“Hey, Liz,” Alex said. She plopped down in front of them in a weirdly graceful way. Michael remembered Max mentioning she was a dancer. “You stalking me or something?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “No, but Maria isn’t here today and I didn’t want to eat lunch alone and I know you come back here to eat for some reason, so I came to find you,” Liz paused, eyeing Michael with intrigue, “Well, now I know the reason, but can I still stay?”

Alex turned to Michael and asked him silently if she could as if Michael could ever be rude enough to say no. Even if he wanted to say no, he wouldn’t have been able to.

“I don’t mind,” Michael said. She grinned so bright that it became exceptionally clear why Max was so infatuated with her.

“Yay! Hi, I’m Liz,” she introduced, holding her hand out to him. Michael hesitantly shook it. Alex snorted.

“Michael.”

“I know, Alex talks about you,” she said. Michael felt his face flush and turned to Alex who didn’t look embarrassed at all. Did he ever get embarrassed? Did he ever get scared?

“Nothing to worry about,” Alex chuckled, reaching out to wipe a crumb off the corner of Michael’s lips. Michael’s eyes widened. “Relax.”

When Michael looked back towards Liz, she was still smiling as she ate her food. She didn’t seem to think any of this was weird, but she didn’t seem to be curious either. She took it as if this was just a thing that happened.

“Max talks about you too,” Michael said softly. Her eyebrows raised at that and her cheeks got a little red.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t anything to be scared of.

.+1.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Michael’s giggle rippled through the air as Alex smothered him in kisses. While Alex usually came over to his house now, it was basically impossible to do anything other than the most G-rated kisses because of his mother always being around. They wanted something more than that and their options had been either driving out to the desert or coming to the shed. They’d chosen the shed because they didn’t want to suffer the 30-minute drive.

Alex let his hand slide down the front of Michael’s bare chest, breathing heavily with the biggest smile against Michael’s neck. It was heavenly. Even when he pulled away and they had to get dressed so Michael wouldn’t miss curfew, they couldn’t stop smiling. They hadn’t properly hooked up in a few weeks and, fuck, it felt good to just feel Alex again. He was so ready for a lifetime of that.

Or maybe that wouldn’t happen.

The door flew open right after Michael buttoned up his jeans. He was still standing shirtless as Jesse Manes stood in the doorway. When he looked at Alex, he was frozen. There was fear in his eyes and all over his face. It was something Michael had never seen before and, honestly, it was the most terrifying thing in the world. Alex was always strong and calm. Alex wasn’t ever scared.

Except Alex was scared now and Michael didn’t know how to help him.

“I can’t believe this,” Mr. Manes said, taking a step into the shed, “Under my roof.”

Michael kept looking between Mr. Manes and Alex. He was waiting for Alex to say something, to argue, to fight back like he always did. Alex didn’t budge.

It happened fast. Mr. Manes had Alex pinned to the wall by his throat. Alex was crying and shaking his head and begging him to stop. Michael was overwhelmed with hearing Alex so upset, hearing Alex cry a ’Dad, please’ with no sign of it actually working. None of this made sense.

But Michael had a decision to make. He could either be the coward he always was and just let this happen, or he could finally be confident and strong. He’d seen Alex do it a million times when he needed him and now Alex needed him. Alex needed him to be strong.

So he would be.

“Don’t touch him!” Michael shouted, moving forward and pushing Mr. Manes off of Alex. Except, what could that do, really?

He grabbed Michael by the arm and, in one fell swoop, grabbed a hammer and swung it back. The claw end buried into Michael’s bones, pinning him to the table he was leaning against. His scream mixed with the sound of Alex’s, blurring into nothingness. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, he just hurt.

“I don’t want to see this in my house again, do you understand me?” Mr. Manes said. Alex was sobbing.

“Yes, sir.”

Michael was trying to breathe, trying not to focus on the fact his entire left arm was going numb from pain. He needed acetone. No, he needed his mom.

“Oh my God,” Alex choked when he got closer. Michael was taking in shallow breaths as he lifted his head enough to get a look at his hand. The claw was buried in his hand, hooking just enough to the table beneath it. Holy fuck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Michael, oh my God.”

“Can you call my mom?” Michael whispered out, unable to take his eyes off his hand. How is that possible? How can one man have enough strength to break through all his bones and muscles? How could someone do that?

“I-I need to get you out of here first, your mom can’t come onto my dad’s property,” Alex sniffled, still crying so hard that it was hard to understand him. Michael wanted to be annoyed that he was the one keeping calm when he was pinned to a table, but he kept reminding himself that Alex had done it for him a ton of times. He could do it for Alex.

He could be strong for Alex.

“Okay,” Michael whispered out, closing his eyes and thought hard about his mom. He called to her, telling her that he needed her. It would take her 15 minutes to get to him, he just needed to get to the curb.

“Michael, I’m so sorry,” Alex cried. He wasn’t touching him, he was staying away. Michael tried to look at him.

“I’m okay,” he said and Alex let out a whine, covering his face. This was hard. How did Alex stay so strong all the time? Michael gulped, taking another heavy breath before he looked at his hand again.

Slowly, he worked the tip of the claw out of the table. It hurt like a bitch and he wanted to scream, but he figured that would just scare Alex and he didn’t want that. Once he got it out, he stood up with the hammer still buried in his hand. He brought it to his chest, hoping to minimize the blood and the pain.

“Alex,” he said calmly. It had to be the adrenaline. “Alex, c’mon, let’s go.”

When Alex moved his hands, his face was dotted with Michael’s blood. He focused on his breath and grabbed the back of Alex’s neck, pressing his forehead to his. Alex choked out another sob.

“C’mon. It’s gonna be okay. My mom’s coming.”

They went to the curb and waited. Michael managed to keep up his confidence for Alex until his mom arrived and the full force of the pain really hit. It suddenly made a little more sense of how Alex was able to keep his cool all the other times he’d seen him do it. He could handle anything that wasn’t his father.

So that just meant that Michael could handle that part for him.

#malex #malex fic #malex au #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #my fic #verse: on earth

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isrustandstardust · 3 years

Text

1: Full name: Selena.

2: Zodiac sign: Scorpio.

3: 3 Fears: Abandonment. Not being good enough. Being lied to.

4: 3 things I love: Bones. Corpses. Books.

5: 4 turns on: Intelligence. Perversions. Sarcasm. Violence.

6: 4 turns off: Stupidity. Ignorance. Lack of hygiene. High pitched voices.

7: My best friend: Is the best bitch ever.

8: Sexual orientation: Bisex.

9: My best first date: A dinner and a walk by the lake.

10: How tall am I: 165 cm.

11: What do I miss: Woland, sometimes.

12: What time were I born: 3.45 a.m.

13: Favourite color: Teal.

14: Do I have a crush: Yup.

15: Favourite quote: So it goes.

16: Favourite place: Como.

17: Favourite food: Red meat, raw.

18: Do I use sarcasm: Way too much.

19: What am I listening to right now: I’m watching ‘my 600lb life’ on tv.

20: First thing I notice in new person: If he looks me in the eyes or not.

21: Shoe size: 38/39.

22: Eye color: Reddish brown.

23: Hair color: Chocolate.

24: Favourite style of clothing: Urban/edgy/grunge.

25: Ever done a prank call? When I was little.

26: What colour of underwear I'm wearing now? Black.

27: Meaning behind my URL: It’s a Nabokov’s quote.

28: Favourite movies: The Fountain, In the mood for love, Bin Jip, The pillow book, Only lovers left alive, Stoker.

29: Favourite song: Too hard to say.

30: Favourite band: Same. Maybe Tool.

31: How I feel right now: Relaxed.

32: Someone I love: My hubby.

33: My current relationship status: Happily married.

34: My relationship with my parents: No relationship with my mother, a distant one with my father.

35: Favourite holiday: Christmas.

36: Tattoos and piercing I have: 15 tattoos, no piercings atm.

37: Tattoos and piercing I want: I want to do some surfaces again and I want to ink both my arms. Full sleeves.

38: The reason I joined Tumblr: I wanted a safe space to write.

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? No, we just have no relationship whatsoever.

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? When my husband is on tour.

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? Yup.

42: When did I last hold hands? A few hours ago.

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? 20 minutes.

44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days? Nope, I don’t need it.

45: Where am I right now? On the couch.

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? My husband, my friends.

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? Way too loud!

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? No. I live by myself since I was 18.

49: Am I excited for anything? In a few days I’ll begin renovating my home!

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? Sure.

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? Daily.

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? Today.

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? That could be a problem.

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? No, I’m very careful when it comes to trust people.

55: What is something I disliked about today? My stomach aching like crazy.

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? I’d love to have a chat with Jodorowsky.

57: What do I think about most? Work, work, work.

58: What’s my strangest talent? I can fit my whole fist in my mouth.

59: Do I have any strange phobias? Deep water, strange fishes.

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind, I’m a director, not an actress.

61: What was the last lie I told? I’m not hungry.

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Texting.

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I believe in aliens, I’m fairly sure that something similar to ghost actually exist.

64: Do I believe in magic? Kinda.

65: Do I believe in luck? Yup.

66: What's the weather like right now? Fucking cold.

67: What was the last book I've read? A criminology book.

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? A lot.

69: Do I have any nicknames? MissFortune, Sally.

70: What was the worst injury I've ever had? Never had one.

71: Do I spend money or save it? Save it. I know what it means to have nothing. At all. I don’t want to find myself in that situation ever again.

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? Nope.

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? Nope. I don’t like pink very much.

74: Favourite animal? Snakes, moths.

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Still working.

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? I know his name is Woland.

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? Do you realize - the flaming lips.

78: How can you win my heart? Be kind, be honest.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? I don’t want a tombstone, I want to be cremated.

80: What is my favorite word? Weltschmerz.

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr. No idea tbh.

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? Read a book, study something, stop being stupid.

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? Nope.

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? Mind control.

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? When was the last time you ate?

86: What is my current desktop picture? Mass Effect’s reapers attacking earth.

87: Had sex? Two days ago.

88: Bought condoms? A few years ago.

89: Gotten pregnant? Never.

90: Failed a class? Never.

91: Kissed a boy? A man. A few minutes ago.

92: Kissed a girl? Cannot recall.

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Yup.

94: Had job? Of course.

95: Left the house without my wallet? Maybe.

96: Bullied someone on the internet? Nope, been bullied tho.

97: Had sex in public? Yep.

98: Played on a sports team? Nope.

99: Smoked weed? Yes.

100: Did drugs? Three times.

101: Smoked cigarettes? Yup.

102: Drank alcohol? Of course.

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? Nope, been vegan for a year but my health went to hell.

104: Been overweight? I was a little chubby when I was little.

105: Been underweight? Almost all my adult life.

106: Been to a wedding? Sure.

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Daily.

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yup. I love binge watching things.

109: Been outside my home country? Sure.

110: Gotten my heart broken? Once.

111: Been to a professional sports game? No.

112: Broken a bone? Never.

113: Cut myself? I self harmed for years. Been clean for the past four and a half.

114: Been to prom? No.

115: Been in airplane? Yup.

116: Fly by helicopter? No, but I’d love to.

117: What concerts have I been to? Slayeeeeeeer! This is the first that comes to mind.

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? Of course.

119: Learned another language? Yup.

120: Wore make up? Daily.

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? Nope.

122: Had oral sex? Sure.

123: Dyed my hair? The last time I went blonde for my wedding, almost three years ago.

124: Voted in a presidential election? I voted, here in Italy, for every election.

125: Rode in an ambulance? Sadly, yes.

126: Had a surgery? Nope.

127: Met someone famous? More or less.

128: Stalked someone on a social network? A few times.

129: Peed outside? Yup.

130: Been fishing? I actually enjoy it a lot.

131: Helped with charity? Not that I recall.

132: Been rejected by a crush? Not in a while.

133: Broken a mirror? Nope.

134: What do I want for birthday? Being spoiled.

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? One. Nero if he’s a boy, Alya if she’s a girl.

136: Was I named after anyone? After a book character.

137: Do I like my handwriting? It’s not bad.

138: What was my favourite toy as a child? I didn’t have one. Maybe my art supplies.

139: Favourite Tv Show? Atm: Supersized vs Superskinny.

140: Where do I want to live when older? Iceland.

141: Play any musical instrument? I’m learning to play drums.

142: One of my scars, how did I get it? Almost all my scars are from self harming.

143: Favourite pizza toping? Cheeeeeeeeeese!

144: Am I afraid of the dark? Nope. I feel at home in it.

145: Am I afraid of heights? A lot.

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Doing something bad, surely.

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Sometimes.

148: What I'm really bad at: Bowling.

149: What my greatest achievments are: I earn my own living since I was 18.

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: That I should never been born, I guess.

151: What I'd do if I won in a lottery: Sell my house and go live abroad.

152: What do I like about myself: My willpower.

153: My closest Tumblr friend: I don’t have one.

154: Something I fantasise about: My future.

155: Any question I’d like: I have no preferences, ask away.

#survey #about me #meet the artist

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xx-autmnlvr-xx · 4 years

Note

you've experienced spirits?! that's so cool!! can you share some stories? i wanna hear everything you have to say about spirits!

Yeah I can tell ya! Thanks for asking!

To start off let me point out that my parents played with a Ouija board while she was pregnant with me and they were stupid enough to ask it about me, essentially inviting the demon to haunt my ass. LOL

So when I was 1 all the way to age 6 I was haunted. No one could cut out lights around me. I was terrified of what was in the dark. I remember that when I was 4 I saw what terrorizes me. Three green faces, alongated like tikis, would get closer to me if the lights were out. Gnawing their retched teeth and terrifying me. Then when I was 6 I decided enough was enough and saw a movie where a kid told something that they weren't real and they disappeared. one night I cut out all the lights in my room and say on my bed.

The faces started coming up to me and I looked them in their face and said "I'm not scared of you! You aren't real!" And when they were a foot away from me I closed my eyes and opened them. They were gone and I never saw them again.

Skip a few years and I turned 13. My grandmother convinced me that ghosts weren't real and what I experienced was my imagination.

My cousin and friend asked me to go ghost hunting with them and I scoffed 'ghosts aren't real. Don't play the devil's games' but because I didn't want to leave my cousin to possibly get hurt I went with them.

It was a park on a calm summer night. No wind at all and no one has been there for a few hours. We talked to the night, trying to get a reaction. I cut on my flip phone's recorder and they asked questions. That's when we heard a screech of metal against metal. We looked at the swing set and one of the swings were moving! Back and forth slowly. It creeped us out! I desperately checked the tops of the trees and wet my finger, trying to find the source of the 'wind' to explain it off. To no avail.

After we finished we returned to the house and replayed the recording. We heard a kid younger than us giggling in the audio.

After the experience I believed in ghosts and started researching everything I could. But you know what they say about teenage hormones and spirits....

I had a ton of dark and demonic spirits surrounding me from the ages of 14-16 because I was in my dark phase and my hormones were through the roof.

But one experience I will never forget came when my family lived in Montgomery.

My mom, aunt, cousin, sister, and me lived in a two bedroom house that was owned by a man that lived there. One weekend his two kids came for their visitation.

My mom slept in the room with the man, my aunt slept in the other bedroom, and my cousin,sister,me, and his two kids were trying to find a sleeping position in the living room. There was no room for all of us so being the eldest of them all I decided to find another place to sleep.

I went to the kitchen with a piece of cardboard and laid it on the floor of the dining room. For reference on the far right (above my head) there was the kitchen, and to the far left (under my feet) was the door to the laundry room.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but I felt like I was being watched. I thought it was one of the kids so I opened my eyes and came face to face with three spirits

A young girl no older than 9 with long hair and a white sundress on her knees looking at me with curiosity

A young boy about 5 with overalls and a T-shirt on his knees beside the girl, obviously they were siblings.

And a tall man behind them in front of the laundry room door. He had on an old-fashioned suit and he wasn't looking at me, but the ground. He had the most evil aura on him. Almost like he was angry at the world.

The kids seemed curious over me but scared .

I didn't dare blink because I knew that if I did they would disappear. I stared back at them, examining them. It occured to me that they were from the 60's or 50's. I didn't understand why the man was so angry. They never moved. I heard my cousin call out to me and I blinked. When I blinked they were gone. I went to the living room and didn't tell anyone what I saw.

The next day it was just me and my cousin. I was in the living room writing fanfiction in my notebook when she called out to me.

"did someone come back?"

"no? Why?"

She came to the living room

"I just saw a man in one of the bedrooms with a suit but before I could get a closer look he was gone!"

I turned pale when I realized why he was angry.

One thing I didn't tell you is that my cousin is biracial. Half black half white. This is Montgomery, AL where all that segregation stuff happened. It was obvious that she was the reason he appeared. He was fed up with how "his" city became. I told her about what I saw the other night and we made a plan to try to find out more about Montgomery. So for the rest of our stay there (about 3 more months) we broke into abandoned houses and investigated them. We didn't find much but a few spirits that recently died. But it was an experience I wouldn't soon forget!

Since then I've seen some animal spirits and deceased relatives but that is about it.

That is all my experiences I remember in my life. There could have been more that I didn't see or remember, but these are what I remember most.

Thanks for asking, @colonel--sarge !!

#ghost and spirits #long post #experience #spirits #paranormal #paranormal experiences

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silverfootstepswrites · 5 years

Text

Lullaby [80%]

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Read Equinox here and come back!

Sakura went into labor in the middle of a debate about mac and cheese. Kiba argued that yellow cheeses were the only acceptable inclusions in the mix, while Itachi argued that mixing gouda and cheddar with parmesan was the only way to make a good mac and cheese.

As the argument moved on to acceptable pasta shapes, Sakura debated whether or not to interrupt. She let them bicker over whether to bake the dish covered in foil or uncovered before she finally decided to speak up.

“So....” she began. Both of them looked up at her.

“Yeah, babe?” Kiba replied, still a little distracted. His eyes stayed on his phone screen as he looked up mac and cheese recipes online.

“I’m having contractions. For real, this time,” Sakura announced.

Itachi dropped his phone. Kiba dropped his jaw.

“Uh. Holy shit. Um...” Kiba fumbled. "Is the bag all packed? Should we call the doctor first? Or do we just call the hospital?” As he fretted, Itachi got out of his seat to go look for the hospital bag. Which wasn’t much of a challenge given that it had sat in the mudroom for the better part of a month.

“Are you calling the hospital?” Kiba then asked when Itachi wandered back into the room with his phone held to his ear. He placed the packed bag on the kitchen table.

“No. The Sheriff,” Itachi replied. The call connected. He held his pointer finger up.

“Hey, Kakashi..... Yeah, uh. Everything’s.... good... Just.... Sakura might be going into labor. But everything is fine. Just wanted to.... hello? Hello?” Itachi lowered the phone. Kiba smacked his palm to his forehead as they heard the wail of police sirens over the phone.

_________

The hospital they’d chosen was just outside of Old Pines. It was an older building, but it was the one place Kakashi could manage to visit as it sat sort of on the edge of town. The added bonus was that it served Old Pines, along with the other magical communities scattered around the area. None of these other communities were the size of Old Pines, but it was a sizable enough population that the hospital was necessary. Of course, there were humans who visited the hospital, too. The reception area was busy with human buzzing about when they walked in.

Tobirama strode up the reception desk, lowering his black sunglasses. The pretty, young receptionist looked up from her phone call. Her mouth hung open in the middle of her greeting. The voice on the other end of the line continued jabbering away as she stared at Tobirama.

“Move it, Sexy Eyes. We don’t have time for this,” grumbled Kiba, nudging past Tobirama.

“Hey how are you. Pregnant lady giving birth,” Kiba announced in one breath, jabbing his thumb at Sakura standing behind him. Sakura gave a casual nod.

The receptionist continued to stare at Tobirama, who hadn’t even said anything yet. When he turned to look back at them, Sakura just sighed. Itachi flapped a hand, telling him to get out of the way. But the receptionist’s wistful gaze followed him.

Sakura rolled her eyes as she craned her neck. She spotted a nurse jotting down notes on a clipboard on the other end of the reception desk. She was definitely a human. Further back, she spotted another nurse looking through folders, thumb running along the colored tabs. As the nurse looked up, her eyes flickered gold. Just for an instant. Sakura smiled at her.

“Hi. Help, please,” Sakura called, glancing at the stupefied receptionist. The nurse smiled back.

“Sure,” the nurse replied, stepping forward. And over the receptionist’s shoulder, she mouthed ‘humans’. Laughing a little.

It was a smooth process checking in. Sakura’s name and information was already stored on the database. She had come to this hospital for her ultrasounds and checkups throughout her pregnancy. The nurses stopped in regularly to monitor Sakura’s vitals. The doctor poked her head in once during the afternoon to say hello. She was a fairy and was therefore unaffected by their charm.

Labor. Delivery. It all seemed to move relatively quickly. And while everyone did their best to smile and keep things light, Sakura could see the nervousness in their eyes. The tight shoulders. The wondering gazes that flickered back and forth between them.

When the first high-pitched cries rang out in the delivery room, everyone seemed to hold their breath. The nurses wiped away the blood, holding the child up for everyone to see. Sakura squinted to see through the sweat that dripped into her eyes.

It was a wrinkly, ugly-looking thing. And the cries that left its mouth rang with a strange after-sound. Something warbling in each echo. Sakura could feel the lapis lazuli on her chest hum slightly under her hospital gown. Or maybe that was the thrumming of her chest as she beheld the squished face she had only even seen on an ultrasound.

“It’s a girl!”

“Not a pup,” she vaguely heard Kiba sigh. When she turned her head toward him, she saw Itachi reach out to clap him on the shoulder.

Sakura held her arms out. The nurses laid the baby on her chest. Sakura wondered at how light she felt. Almost like nothing. And the baby’s whines faded as Sakura hummed. Toneless and soft under her breath.

The song took the form of a golden thread. Wrapping around the child. Swaddling it in the familiar voice that it had spent listening to for all those months.

Kakashi knelt beside the bed. Staring up at the baby, eyes wide with wonder. His face split into a wide smile as he watched the baby wrinkle her face up, as if preparing to cry.

“Who gets to cut the cord?” one of the nurses whispered, eyes flickering between each of the four men in the room.

Without a moment of hesitation, Tobirama, Itachi, and Kiba all pointed at Kakashi.

“Him.”

Kakashi blinked. He twisted around to look at them. He didn’t know when they’d made this decision. But when he opened his mouth to argue, Tobirama just scowled at him. Kakashi closed his mouth.

When he looked over at Sakura, she smiled.

“Go ahead, Papa,” she urged.

Itachi caught the moment on his phone as Kakashi cut the cord. As he snickered at how Kakashi was crying, he looked up and realized that there were tears in his own eyes too.

_________

“She’s cute,” Tenten whispered.

“She looks like you,” Hana added.

“She does. Like, a lot,” Ino agreed.

The baby squirmed a little in her crib. The hair on top of her head was wispy, but it was light. Almost pinkish. And in the brief flashes when she opened her eyes, they looked green.

“Oh, that’s normal. That’ll change in a couple months. Probably,” Sakura told them.

“Probably?” all three of them repeated.

“Who knows? She’s at least....uh- 3/8 Siren, so... maybe? We’re kind of figuring it out as we go,” Sakura answered. And then she thought a little longer. “Or not. She might just look like this forever. Which is fine with me.”

“Can I hold her?” Hana then asked.

“Yeah. Of course,” Sakura replied as she reached into the crib to lift her child into her arms. She carefully deposited the baby in Hana’s waiting arms. She wasn’t nervous, though. Hana was a mom herself. And if Sakura hadn’t known this, could tell just from the easy way she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

Tsume leaned over Hana’s shoulder, nose wrinkling. She sniffed a little at the baby before she touched a cautious finger to her cheek.

“She’s really hairless,” Tsume murmured.

"That’s normal, Ma. This is a baby, not a pup,” Hana reminded her.

“Makes no difference. This is Kiba’s kid with his mate. That’s good enough for me,” Tsume declared. And then she moved around Hana to put her arm around Sakura’s shoulders.

“And you!” she went on.

“Uh... yes?”

“Stop callin’ me by my name. Call me ‘Ma’, just like the rest of my brats do,” Tsume demanded.

"Sounds good, Ma,” Sakura laughed.

_________

Over the next several weeks, there was no shortage of visitors to Sakura’s house. There was always someone at the door with a casserole or baked goods. The ones who had children of their own brought hand-me-downs in giant reusable shopping bags. Enough that Sakura could’ve opened her own clothing store if she wanted.

“It’s good to raise a baby in a loud environment,” Tobirama’s mother assured her.

“Really?”

Sakura turned to face the computer screen. Swaying back and forth as she held her child in her arms. She wasn’t a very fussy baby, but she did enjoy being held. Which Sakura guessed was probably because she had no shortage of people in the house fighting to hug her.

“It’s what I did for all four of my boys. I think it was good for them,” the older woman confirmed.

“So we think it’s great you always have guests over. Although I’m guessing living with that many people in one nest can’t be that quiet either,” Tobirama’s dad chimed in.

“It’s pretty calm most of the time, actually,” Sakura told them.

The back door crashed open.

“Guys! Babe! You’ll never believe it! I took down a moose in the forest!” Kiba shouted.

“A moose? What do you even season a moose with?” Itachi demanded from the living room. And then there was the sound of furious typing and clicking.

“For the millionth time, Kiba, you need a hunting permit for native species,” Kakashi sighed from the other end of the house.

“Put him in jail, Sheriff. Maybe he’ll stop eating all my granola,” Tobirama suggested from the sofa on the loft. His head lolled back against one arm of the sofa. His feet were up on the other.

“Most of the time,” Sakura said again with a sheepish grin.

#equinox #multisaku #polysaku #writing #itasaku #kakasaku #tobisaku #kibasaku #it's BABY time

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deafeningnightcollection-things · 4 years

Text

Worlds Collide ~ TEEN WOLF

Chapter 2: My best friend is definitely a werewolf (S1 E1)

Cassie was anxious to get to school the next morning and make sure Scott was alright. She dressed quickly and ran downstairs, hopeful to avoid awkward questions. But parents seem to have a sixth sense for when their kids are trying to sneak out and her dad was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and he didn't look very happy.

He did his best to keep his voice at a whisper, hoping that her mom wouldn't hear them. "You're lucky that your mother is a deep sleeper, and didn't hear you climbing out your window in the middle of the night. What the heck where you thinking? They found a body last night. If this town lights up like it did with the Hale fire, we're going to have to move, again."

"I know, I know. He's after us, but we're stronger than we've ever been. Would it really be so bad if he found us now?" I'm tired of running. "We can't run forever, dad."

Her father sighed. They'd had this same fight for years. "You don't know him like we do, we can a lot of things others can't, but he can do more. More than anyone should be able to." He paused, clearly not wanting to escalate the argument further. "I'm going to be home late tonight, Dr. Draile is out sick today and they asked me to cover his night shift. Your mom is going on a trip for a few days, thankfully she's not too freaked out cause she hasn't heard about the body in the woods yet. If you need anything call Melissa, she's off tonight."

"Ok." She smiled tiredly, "I know that you're trying, it's just frustrating because I know that we could be doing so much more. I'm tired of being afraid."

"I know." He embraced her gently, "now lets get out of here before your mom comes downstairs and yells at us both."

Cassie laughed, a little more subdued than usual, but still a laugh and it felt good. "Ok"

The drive to the high school seemed to go by in a flash. She was worried about Scott, she'd spent nearly an hour debating with herself whether or not to go back out and look for Scott, eventually she'd decided that it must've been a normal wolf, it had to be. Still, she couldn't completely banish her worries, even though they were social pariahs at the best of times, Scott and Stiles still managed to attract more danger than anyone she'd ever met.

"Bye, dad." She waved as she jumped out of the car quickly and made her way towards Scott and Stiles.

"Dude, let me see." Stiles was motioning impatiently at Scott's shirt.

"Unless Scott's has a stripper career that I don't know about, I'm gonna need more context than that." Cassie said, inserting herself between the two. She was only mildly bewildered by what she'd heard, it was no where near the oddest thing she'd heard Stiles say.

Stiles answered impatiently, clearly anxious to see whatever was under Scott's shirt. "Little Scotty here, claims to have a huge freaking bite in his stomach. But I say pics or—"

"What!" Cassie exclaimed looking to Scott anxiously, it couldn't be. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." His eyes met hers quickly, trying to alleviate her panic. "Stiles is exaggerating."

"Let me see." She stated emphatically, holding his gaze.

Scott lifted his shirt reluctantly, "I told you it's not that bad."

No. No. NO. It has to be a coincidence, normal wolf bites look the same as werewolf bites, right?

"Cassie, you ok? You seem a little spacey." Scott was looking at her curiously.

Don't be weird. "Yeah, fine... Just didn't get much sleep last night." She sent a halfhearted glare at Stiles, curse him and his stupid ideas. If she was right this stupid idea was going to have much bigger consequences than a couple weeks grounding or a detention.

"Seriously though, this is awesome." Stiles barreled on, oblivious as usual to his friends' unease. "First a body, now this, at least something interesting it finally happening in this town."

"What do you think bit you?" Cassie tried to ignore the dread growing in the pit of her stomach.

"It was dark but I think," don't say it, "it was a wolf." Scott...

Don't freak out. "That's weird. I thought there hadn't been wolves in California for a long time."

"Yeah." Stiles agreed vehemently, "it's been like 60 years since there was a wolf sighting."

"Well, if you two don't believe I saw a wolf than you won't believe I found the other half of the body." Scott said with a hint of a smile.

"Dude. Really?! That's amazing." Stiles might as well have been jumping up and down. This boy was way too excited by a murder. "The only thing better than that is Lydia Martin." Stiles attempted to say suavely as a certain redhead passed by, "h-hey, Lydia."

As usual she walked by without sparing in glance in his direction. Stiles brushed it off, but she knew it had to hurt. She clapped him on the shoulder gently, "better luck next time, buddy."

He glanced at her gratefully, a small smile tugging at his cheeks. "Thanks," he said softly, before turning to Scott. "This is your fault, both of you." He pointed an accusatory finger at her and Scott, "I'm a nerd by association."

Cassie laughed, and for a moment everything felt normal. Just for a moment she wasn't worried about her entire life in Beacon Hills being uprooted because of some stupid midnight adventure in the woods. She threw an arm around each boy, "well then, nerds. We'd better get inside, don't want to be late on the first day. Scott's enough of a problem child as it is."

"Hey," Scott was quick to defend himself. "Every time I've gotten in trouble has been entirely Stiles' fault."

"Hey!" Stiles replied indignantly. They all laughed.

Their first class passed uneventfully, and it was easy to pretend there wasn't a weight on her shoulders. The second class made it harder to ignore. Their teacher was droning on incessantly about the syllabus and talking about a body in the woods like it was nothing. Teachers really don't feel anything. Scott glanced out the window, something evidently having caught his attention. Sure enough there was a cute girl sitting on a bench in front of the school. Cassie nearly rolled her eyes. Boys, she thought exasperatedly.

The girl's voice drifted towards Cassie's sensitive ears. "Mom, three calls for my first day is a little over-doing it..." She said into her cellphone, exasperation clear in her tone as she rummaged through her bag. "Everything execpt a pen, oh my god did I actually forgot a pen!" She closed her bag with a sigh as the vice principal walked up to her. "Okay okay, I gotta go, love you..."

Cassie glanced back at Scott who had been watching the girl intently. This time she did roll her eyes, but a nagging doubt tugged at her. He seemed like he could hear what the girl had been saying. She tried to ignore her doubts, Scott was just staring at the pretty girl. For some reason that didn't alleviate her doubts.

Not two minutes later the girl walked into their class. Oh great, now Scott can spend the entire period staring at a girl. She shared a half-exasperated half-amused glance with Stiles. "Class, this is Allison Argent." The V.P. introduced her. Argent? Could she be? No. There has to be more than one family named Argent, but in Beacon Hills? Can it really be a coincidence? Cassie shook her thoughts away, today was going to be normal through sheer force of will. If she let things spiral out of control the next step would be her parents packing bags and flying out to the furthest reaches of Canada.

Allison walked forward, taking the seat behind Scott, and next to Cassie. Scott turned towards her, a faint blush on his cheeks, and handed her a pen.

Why did you have to drag us into the woods Stiles? ——— The rest of the day passed by rather uneventfully, the most interesting thing that happened was Scott doing some light stalking/eavesdropping on the new girl. She managed to stem her oncoming panic by promising herself that she'd get answers after school. The last bell seemed to ring out of nowhere. Cassie walked down to the lacrosse field by herself. Scott and Stiles had to go to the locker room first. Normally, she'd wait for them, but today she needed a moment to clear her head.

The bleachers were relatively full, back to school hype always pulled a decent crowd. She waved to a few kids as she sat down, including Danny who had just emerged from the locker room. She was so lost in thought that she didn't noticed Lydia and Allison sitting behind her until Allison tapped her on the shoulder.

"You're Cassie, right?"

"Yeah." Cassie answered cautiously, she wasn't sure how much the Argents knew of her family, but she still wanted to keep off their radar.

"You're in my English class." Cassie resisted the urge to sigh.

"Yeah. That's me..." She chuckled slightly, hoping to diffuse an awkward situation. It didn't work. She tried a different tactic. "So, how do you like Beacon High so far?"

"It's ok." Allison shrugged, "we probably won't be here very long, anyway." Cassie almost smiled at that, good. Less hunters in town the better. Cassie nodded noncommittally, before turning back to the field.

Scott and Stiles were on the bench as usual, but as she watched Coach Finstock walked over to the bench. He pressed a helmet to Scott's chest, "McCall, you're in goal."

Scott replied awkwardly, a little flustered, "but I've never played goal before."

Coach clapped him on the shoulder. "Exactly. It'll give the boys a confidence boost on their first day back."

"What about me?" Scott shifted uncomfortably.

"A few bruises won't kill you, McCall." Coach clapped him on the shoulder one last time.

Scott paled a little, but never the less walked towards the goal with determination. Stiles just shook his head, she could practically hear the thoughts going through his head. You're going to die. She leaned forward in her seat anxiously, hopefully there wouldn't be any rampaging werewolves on this field today. Especially with an Argent in the stands.

The boys lined up one by one to take their shots on goal. Various people in the stands cheering as their respective friends took a shot, but Scott blocked every one. Stiles leapt to his feet shouting, "that's my friend. That's my friend!"

Cassie smiled widely, knowing how important it was to Scott to do well this season. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "go, Scott. Yeah. Whoo, whoo." Underneath the helmet, Scott's eyes found hers and he smiled. More boys took shots on goal, and Scott blocked more and more shots. It seemed as though no one could get a ball passed him. Finally, it was Jackson's turn. Oh boy, she thought to herself. If something goes wrong it's going to be here.

The tension was palpable in the air. Jackson squared his shoulders and ran at Scott, attempting to bowl him over. But Scott stood his ground, appearing to catch Jackson's ball effortlessly. The people in the bleachers cheered, it really was a good save. Too good. Her gaze flicked between Scott and Stiles, how do you boys always manage to stumble into the worst situations?

Why now? Beacon Hills had been quiet since the Hale fire, six years of nothing, and now this. She couldn't think of any other wolf in town. What are you up to, Derek? She was tempted to leave before practice was over, but Scott and Stiles would notice, and that would lead to questions that she wasn't ready to answer. How do you tell your best friend that he's a werewolf?

The rest of the practice went by very quickly, Scott didn't miss a single shot. Cassie met them on the field as soon as practice ended. "That was amazing, Scott."

"Thanks, Cas." He answered, pride shimmering in his eyes at what he'd done. She smiled.

"You did good too, Stiles." She added turning to her other best friend. "It takes skills to warm a bench that well."

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles swatted her away with a roll of his eyes. "You were good out there, Scotty boy. First line may not be a pipe dream after all."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Are you ever going to stop calling me that?"

"Nope." Stiles puffed out his chest proudly. "I've already come up with five ways to work it into my best man speech."

"Of course you have." Scott cringed half playfully.

The conversation ended abruptly as they reached the locker room. "See you in five." Cassie nodded. She walked around to the front of the school slowly, arriving at Stiles' blue Jeep only a few moments after the boys.

"So where are we headed?" Cassie glanced between Scott and Stiles.

Scott glanced at Stiles before answering, "back to the Preserve."

Why do I let you drag me into these things? ——— Beacon Hills' preserve was chilly. Leaves crunched with every step, and branches fluttered in bursts of wind. The whole scenario felt so similar and yet so different from the previous night. Stiles walked a little ahead of Scott and Cassie, leading the way forward like usual, but so much had changed in a night. Scott had changed.

Unsure how to broach the topic, she tried the first tactic that came to mind. "Scott, you seem different today." Still the truth, just not all of it. "How're you feeling?"

Scott shook his head. "I don't know. Something's off, I can feel it. It's like my senses are on overdrive. I can see things, hear things, smell things. Things that I shouldn't be able to."

Stiles, ever the curious one, couldn't resist a conundrum. "Things like what?"

"Like..." Scott sniffed experimentally. "I can smell the mint gum in your pocket. I can hear Cassie's heart beating."

"I don't have any..." Stiles fished around in his jacket pocket, finding a piece of mint gum, neatly wrapped in foil. Glancing at it oddly, he tossed it back into his pocket. "Hmm... So this all started with the bite?"

Scott nodded. Cassie could practically see the pieces falling into place in Stiles' head, but this had to be too ludicrous, even for him and his wild imagination. "What if I'm dying? Like everything in my body is just fritzing. And then...blegh."

"You know what, I think I have heard of this." Stiles began, in that overeager way that almost always signified mischief. "It's super bad, like crazy bad, but only once a month."

"What?!" Scott was clearly freaking out, maybe on the verge of an existential crisis. "What happens once a month? Is it fatal?"

"No." Stiles eyes continued to glimmer with mischief. "They call it lycanthropy." Stiles spread his hands wide for emphasis.

"Is it serious?" Scott squeaked, growing paler.

"Only on the night of the full moon." Stiles howled.

Cassie smacked him on the back of the head. "This is serious, Stiles!" Her voice was louder than she'd intended, both Scott and Stiles looked at her a little oddly. She rarely raised her voice, but her panic was slipping through.

"Jeez, Cas. It was just a joke." He rubbed his head, wincing exaggeratedly. "You really pack a punch." He winced once more.

"Sorry." She glanced at Scott, and then Stiles, then back to Scott. "I'm just worried about Scott." Stiles nodded.

"I'm pretty sure I dropped my inhaler somewhere around here." And just like that the tension diffused. Scott walked forward to a patch of leaves. It had been dark last night and even with her advanced senses she couldn't tell one batch of decaying leaves from the next. Scott crouched down and began rifling through the leaves. Cassie moved to help him when the sound of leaves crunched under foot reached her ears, she saw Scott's head snap up.

"You're trespassing," an angry voice called out from behind them. "This is private property."

Derek. She tried to keep her face neutral, and not punch Derek. She saw his eyes widen a fraction as he looked at her, they hadn't talked since before Laura died. This whole problem had something to do with him, there were no other wolves in town. Well, there was Peter, but he was in a coma.

Stiles in his infinite bravery shrunk away meekly, "we didn't know, dude."

"Yeah, we were just looking for something... The preserve is big, we must've wandered here by mistake. Forget it, we'll just go now." Scott said stepping up next to Stiles.

As Scott turned to go, Derek tossed something to him. He caught it with lightning fast reflexes, and Derek quirked an eyebrow, his suspicions no doubt confirmed. Scott opened his hand, to reveal his inhaler.

"Uh thanks." Scott looked up, but Derek had vanished. "That was weird."

Stiles smacked Scott on the arm eagerly a few times. "Dude, do you know who that was?!" Scott shrugged. Cassie didn't answer, she had no reason to know Derek Hale. "That was Derek Hale, his whole family died in a fire like six years ago."

Cassie glanced back and she could see Derek, standing just out of normal human eyesight, watching them.

"Didn't he move away after that? What's he doing back here?" Scott wondered aloud, glancing back just as Cassie had.

Stiles shrugged. He knew something didn't add up, but he didn't have all the facts. She had more, but they still didn't add up.

"I gotta get to the clinic, Deaton's expecting me soon." ——— Stiles dropped Scott off in record time—breaking even more traffic laws than usual. Stiles turned to her as they sat in the parking lot, engine idling, "where to now, my padawan?"

Cassie raised an eyebrow, "one of these days you're going to stop referencing Star Wars."

"Never."

Cassie laughed, "well, master Jedi. Could you please take me home now?"

"I think I can arrange that." His eye twinkled as he deftly shifted into gear and backed out of the vet's office. The ride home was filled with amicable silence, that Cassie was thankful for. She was still trying to figure out how all the pieces fit into the wolf puzzle.

As she turned to leave the car, Stiles put a hand on her shoulder. "I know you normally talk to Scott about stuff, but I'm here too. I know somethings wrong, no pressure. Just... when you're ready, I'm here."

She squeezed his hand gently, "thank you." Stiles is a better friend than I give him credit for. Stiles nodded. She stood on the porch, until he was out of sight, then she broke into a run, heading for the preserve. It took her less than 10 minutes to reach the preserve on foot. She then followed the familiar trail, through the brush and leaves, to the charred house. She paused outside, listening, only hearing one set of footsteps in the house, and knowing that Derek would've heard her approach, she marched in.

"You've got some explaining to do, Hale!" She yelled at the quiet house.

"And you still know how to make an entrance, Cassaia." Derek appeared in front of her. It still felt so strange to hear her birth name, only a limited few knew it and even fewer ever said it. She shoved him harshly into the wall behind him.

"Why is it that you show up back in town the same day my friend is bitten?" She flung the accusation out hotly, her temper refusing to stay on its leash.

Derek sighed. "I didn't bite Scott, and I don't know who did. But I do know that whoever bit him, killed Laura."

"What?" She breathed out in a startled gasp. She released him, backing up a few steps.

Derek nodded bitterly, "there's an alpha running around the woods with my sister's power, and her blood on his hands." His eyes flashed their familiar icy blue. Tears welled up in her eyes and her blood boiled even hotter.

"The monster that killed Laura is just running around biting teenagers! Why?!" She threw the words at Derek like an accusation.

"I don't know, but I've been trying to find out." Derek answered calmly under her tirade, she nodded, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She reached out a hand before wrapping both arms around her friend, Derek's arms wrapped around her back firmly before releasing. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there enough when Laura died."

"I know." He met her gaze steadily.

"I'm going to help you find the alpha, and, I promise, we'll make him pay." She wasn't thinking about her parents, or keeping under the radar. At that moment, she was thinking of how kind Laura was, and how sweet Derek used to be and how their family didn't deserve any of this. He nodded. "Be careful. Ok? A beta alone can't defeat an alpha." Please don't be rash. I don't need to see another Hale tombstone. Derek was silent, she knew he wouldn't answer, he could be so stubborn and reckless.

She turned to go, "Cassie. You too." She didn't answer. So maybe we're both a bit reckless.

#teen wolf #scott mccall x oc #scott mccall #stiles #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #allison argent #derek hale #fanfic #fanfiction #aliens

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child-of-sunshine · 4 years

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Just gotta rant for a minute so this is going under a cut

I can’t stand the way tumblr in general talks about “rich people” (which they can’t define to save their fucking lives) and particularly when they mention “millionaires” as though it actually means something significant in terms of wealth.

First, no one seems to understand that by today’s inflated standards, a million dollars really isn’t that much. A quick google search will tell me that the average “middle-income” parent in America will spend over 250k to raise a child from birth to 18 years old. If a couple has 4 kids, they’re already spending over a million dollars on those kids. Yes, that’s over 18 years, but it’s still meaningful.

If a person makes 100k, which is supposedly the 85th percentile of income, it only takes them 10 years to make a million dollars. And yes, obviously they’re spending money too, and it’s not like their savings or their net worth are going to be a million in that time, but people don’t even seem to comprehend that their earnings over that time would literally be a million. Someone earning the average American income, let’s say 50k because I get conflicting information from various sources, would only take 20 years to earn a million dollars.

And calling “millionaires” (putting that in quotes because people (a) do NOT understand the difference between net worth and actual liquid assets or even income) rich, particularly in the context of the “eat the rich” rhetoric, is ridiculous. I know this site has a serious problem with black-and-white thinking, but for fuck’s sake.

Let’s take a look at my parents.

My dad grew up in a relatively low-income household. His mother’s grandparents came straight from Italy with a few dollars in their pockets and nothing else. Her family struggled to get food on the table at times. She worked very hard as a seamstress and married a man who had a good job at Ford back when that meant actual benefits including into retirement, and so they managed to raise two boys without having to worry too much about being able to afford food or housing. They saved like crazy and spent the minimum that they possibly could on themselves, so that when they reached retirement, they had a pretty decent amount of savings for the rest of their lives and could finally enjoy some luxury vacations and get a small but nice house in Florida.

My mom grew up in a truly low-income household. She was the youngest of five siblings living in a tiny, shitty town in Nowhere, Michigan, with two parents who smoked constantly, in a house that sat next to some kind of horrifying mystery waste pond (she and both of her sisters had cancer, my mom at just 36, and one of her brothers died from some kind of unknown neurological deterioration). Her father got TB and spent time in a sanitarium, after which he became a withdrawn alcoholic and then died relatively young. Her mother became depressed, stopped working, and died of cancer. My mom lost both of her parents in her early 20s, before she even met my father.

Both of my parents were gifted with the great privileges of great brains and being white. Even in their crappy hick town in the middle of nowhere, my mom managed to be in the top of her class (of 56 whole people) in high school and earned a scholarship to a state university, literally the only way she could have afforded to attend. My dad worked to pay for his college as far as I know (because back then you could actually do that). They both got bachelor’s degrees. My dad became an engineer, a good career, and quickly found a job with a relatively new, small local company. He worked extremely hard, long hours for years and moved up to being a manager, and the company has grown a lot over the 25+ years he’s now worked there, with the result that he now makes a low six-figure salary. My mom took a computer programming course after realizing her journalism degree wouldn’t get her much paid work, and has worked as a programmer for 25+ years now, switching jobs sometimes, usually making somewhere in the 60-70k range in the last decade or so.

My mother got pregnant with my sister around the time she and my dad got engaged. She was working a crappy programming job and he’d barely started as an engineer, making nowhere near six figures. They lived in a trailer park, in a trailer with a hole in the floor and steps that were a safety hazard. She’d spent some time living with her sister, who’s 13 years older than her and never had children (thus had a house and some savings). My dad’s mother, the seamstress, made my mom’s wedding dress for free as long as my mom bought the material for it, which was just about all they could afford. They had a nice, small wedding when my sister was about 2 (she was afraid of my mom’s dress lmao) and one of my cousins took the pictures.

Four years after my sister was born, my parents had saved up enough to put a down payment on our house, a moderate-sized family home in a suburban neighborhood that was just being built. The house was a little over 200k. She got pregnant with me and the house was finished just after I was born.

My mom got cancer when I was 2 years old. They haven’t talked to me much about it. Her sister spent a lot of money to buy her a really nice wig made of animal hair (which, unfortunately, she could rarely wear because it made her very itchy). She went through surgery, chemo, and radiation. She spent months sick as hell and miserable, while trying to raise two young daughters. Thankfully, they’d saved enough to be able to handle the medical bills, particularly with my dad’s good job that had good benefits and, by then, was paying him a pretty decent salary. My mom recovered, thankfully (over 20 years in remission now!).

In 2008, when the recession hit, my mom lost her job quickly. She tried finding new ones but couldn’t. No one was hiring programmers, they were getting rid of them. Her depression got a lot worse. I was in high school and depressed myself (in large part because of the situation at home, though my parents don’t know it, that became suicidal depression a while afterward), and they had to start paying for therapy for me. My sister was in college and had to try to pay for it herself because my parents’ college fund for her hadn’t gone as far as they’d hoped. My dad’s company supplies machines to auto manufacturers. They were worried. They laid off some people, thankfully not my dad, and others had to take pay cuts. My parents started sitting down and seriously going over finances. My mom and I had to completely quit figure skating, my only physical stress outlet (like I said, that contributed a LOT to the severe depression). We had to cut down the grocery bills and think about not buying gifts for family members’ birthdays and such. My grandparents, happily retired by then with good savings, paid off the rest of our mortgage and told my dad to pay them back without interest whenever he could, so that no matter what happened with the jobs, we at least wouldn’t have to worry about losing our house. I listened to my parents scream at each other over money and I cried myself to sleep a lot of nights.

Guess what? My dad is a millionaire. Definitely not in liquid assets, but in net worth he probably just barely hits 1 million. He now makes a low six-figure salary and when the economy is doing okay, he invests some of it in the stock market, mostly in low-risk stocks that are guaranteed to have payouts (I don’t know a lot about this, so that’s all I’ll say). He inherited/learned his dad’s extreme money-saving ways and saves as much as possible. He’s an engineer and very handy, so whenever possible he does home and car repairs himself to save a lot of money. I managed to get a scholarship that covered almost all of my undergrad tuition, I lived at home for half of undergrad and all of med school to save money, I worked in retail in undergrad and as an EMT in med school to pay for some of my own stuff, and they didn’t pay for any of my med school tuition, so that’s it for their educational expenses for me. My mom’s had a good, stable job for the last few years that pays in the low 80k range, I think. We live in a house worth ~250k that we now fully own thanks to my grandparents.

A few years ago, my dad’s brother bought a crappy, tiny, nearly-condemned cabin in the woods up north for about 20k (seriously, it was shit). He and my dad put in a few hundred dollars and a TON of time and manual labor to fix it up, and now we pay half the bills on it and both of our families use it for vacations. We have a small (19ft) boat that my dad bought as a gift for my mom when she had cancer--he got it extremely cheap from a guy who’d bought it, barely used it, and just wanted rid of it. It’s a 1994 and full of problems now, but we’ve managed to keep it going (barely, at times) and my dad has taken really good care of it over the years. A friend of my dad’s got him into snowmobiling about a decade ago and once his brother bought the cabin and they fixed it up, my dad got a cheap, crappy used snowmobile, which he used for a few years before reselling it and upgrading to an actually nice, new one, because yeah, he could afford it. He’s upgraded a couple times, good for him. When I actually have the time off, I go up with him in the winter and ride one of his old ones that he kept and fixed after it had an engine problem. It doesn’t cost much to renew the trail permits each year and I borrow my uncle’s gear for riding, so other than the initial cost of the sleds, it really costs us nothing to go riding (gas is extremely negligible in snowmobiles, they can go 120+ miles on a single 8 gallon tank, and we store them ourselves at the cabin so we don’t pay for that). We store the boat in our garage at home (like I said, it’s small) so other than the permit and gas for that when we take it out, again, really no continuous expense.

My parents pay all of their taxes without trying to do any bullshit work-arounds. They don’t have a lawyer or a tax accountant or a financial advisor, my dad does it all himself. He keeps track of all of our finances himself. We don’t pay a landscaping service or a cleaning service or any of that crap, we do it all ourselves like any other middle-class family. My mom donates regularly to charities for cancer, animal rescues, and injured veterans.

But to tumblr, incapable of seeing nuance, we’re “one-percenters (absolutely nowhere near true) who own a house and have a ‘vacation home’ and a boat and recreational vehicles” so we’re pretty much just as bad as Bezos, because anyone who isn’t actively struggling to put food on the table or in horrible medical debt because of our disaster of a system is apparently “rich” and there’s no such thing as shades of gray.

#sorry that was insanely long #no one will read it though so it doesn't matter #that's why I made the read more #just needed to write down thoughts and bitch #I hate the politics on this site #so many good ideas SO badly implemented #the splitting on here is completely fucking ridiculous #and I'm really sick of seeing things that imply me or my family are evil and inherently bad for existing comfortably #and going on occasional vacations #and being able to afford the medical bills when I got a tumor and needed surgery

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notsalony · 4 years

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So... last week my dad had a bad infection, was tearing apart the house and being out of his effing mind. He fought us for 3 hrs to get clothes on him but we finally get him to the er. They pronounce him dehydrated with pneumonia and septic, again. So they gave him antibiotics and told him they needed to admit him. Still out of his head he decided he wanted to go home. So mom signed him out and took him with her. She made him take his meds, watched him, and after one night said he was ready to come back home. Bare in mind I don't have running water because a wicked winter storm froze my pipes, then when it thawed, a tiny crack turned into a bunch of cracks with a little pipe left between them. So I've been living off of bottled water and filling hefty water jugs to do the rest of my water related business with. And am running low on food.

Sound like a bad plan, well it was. Monday dad started having tremors... and told us that he'd been lying about taking his meds. We got on him and started trying to monitor him as best as we can with him. At some point he took one too many pills, went out of his effing mind and tore the house apart, started screaming as best he could about people in the house when we were alone. He was paranoid about my shadow being someone trying to kill me. So I looked it up and he had all the symptoms of an overdose of his antibiotics. So I started trying to get him a ride to the er. All day fighting me, he almost set himself on fire, and was a danger to himself and us, my mom finally got someone to take him. So it took 2 hrs of dad fighting us to get dad dressed and in the car and out to the er. That was Wednesday of this last week.

Mom staid with him that night and he had a relatively calm night. Disoriented but he knew her so he staid calm. She went home to sleep, got a little sleep and 3 am Friday morning they called her, he's thrashing around, threatening to kill the nurses, being violent, and paranoid. Bare in mind, this is a 150 lbs 4 foot tall legless 60 year old.... anyways, she talked him down and went out to sit with him last night. And he thrashed and freaked out. And at some point demanded to be allowed to go home. She said no. He told her she was a bitch and to get her shit out of his house and to tell me and my brother to pack our shit and get out of his house. The house may or may not still be in his name... so -shrugs- Anywho... he was tied down to the bed and had a nurse and an alarm put on him so if he moved they knew about it. Mom told me tonight, that the doctor wasn't getting back to the nurses today, so every little bit they'd come in and go, here the doctor isn't getting back to us so we're going to go a head and give him this med and we'll put it on his chart if the doctors get back to us. Oh. Joy. So... my brother gets there after they gave dad a catheter because they're not giving him his legs and they're not letting him out of that bed when he's being violent and threatening everyone, but shortly after they put the catheter in, he calmed down and went to sleep. They took almost twice what the human bladder should be able to hold out of him and his sugar started going nuts. High, low, high , low, it wouldn't stabilize for jack shit today. Then you have the fact that he has congestive heart failure, and we're trying to get him a bed at his heart doctor's hospital to get him taken care of up there and with any luck his pace maker put back in. It was taken out in September 2019 because his LAST infection, a kidney infection, turned septic and then he got a staff infection along the leads of the pacemaker to his heart. So he's not been doing so great anyways. Then they gave him fluid and his heart started trying to shut off. So they started freaking out. Then he became non responsive. Can't be you pumped him full of sedatives all day and didn't report it, nope... So then his catheter stopped flowing, and they're like, we're giving him all this fluid... nothing's coming out, his kidneys are shutting down and he's not waking up... even when we're doing all these tests on him... you need to get here and start thinking end of life stuff. Fun right? We get to make the 10 pm wake up rounds to the whole family letting everyone know, and march out in a caravan to the hospital. We sat out there 10pm to 2am... the nurse starts pushing for comfort care. my aunts start pushing for comfort care. their cousin starts pushing for comfort care. What is comfort care? They stop giving him as much meds and put him on a morphine drip to make him rest till he either dies or gets better. Mom's against this because if he has something to say and gets lucid before he dies, she'd like the chance to talk to him, not just watch him die in his sleep. Well they're talking over her and my aunt on my mom's side goes, why don't we scan his kidneys and see what's up.

Guess what... his bladder's full again... nothing's coming out... so they insert the catheter in another 3 inches... the pain of which makes my dad bolt up right grab the guy's wrists and try to make him stop. He's out of his fucking mind but he's awake and in and out of lucidity. His bp's suddenly gone up to 103/68, his pulse is good, he's freaking the nurses out because they're convinced he should be dead right now. He's instead awake and trying to get out of the bed. My brother settled him down and he turns his head to the foot of the bed and goes back to sleep, but breathing easier, and goes back into rem sleep finally. This man hasn't slept properly in years, and he's not slept more than a couple minutes at a time in two weeks... he slept nearly 9 effing hours today.

So while he's sleeping we start talking and my aunt who's had a lot of difficulties in her life, and has lost some of her mind between losing her husband to a brain tumor and being on the wrong meds for 3 years when she was supposed to be on them for 3 months... is gone mentally... starts talking about stuff and mom's like, he can hear you, let's not send him into that panic again please. She gets hot, I'M DONE WITH THIS, I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS SHIT, I'M GOING HOME. She storms out. Leaves her coat, and I'm like... uh do you want your coat... you also rode out here with someone else... do you want your coat before you go home. My other aunt, her sister, gets up and goes to talk her down, and their cousin goes with them. We inform my mom's sister, the one being logical and helping here... about how this is just how that aunt is now. And we make sure dad's okay enough and go home to rest... while we're going out, we pass the waiting room and I wave at everyone and the aunt who's being a two year old, flips my mom off and has to have her hand restrained by her sister. I told my mom's sister and she's like I'd have flipped her off back. And tells me not to tell my mom because she's got too much on her plate as it is. I saw my mom home, and then came home to let everyone know my dad pulled through. The stubborn old battle tank survived. So I'm going to lay down and rest.

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me-mindfulexistence · 4 years

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100 Ridiculous “Get To Know Me Questions”....And What My Husband Guessed I Said.

Need something to do? Share some “get to know me questions” with your friends and family”.

I answered 100 “Get to know me questions” alone...and then later I asked my husband what he thought my answer would be. How many did we match?

1.Who is your hero? (me) No one in particular. Anyone who stands up for the underdog, (Fights for the weaker person, feels compassion and empathy for humans and animals....but actually does something about it besides running their mouth) Ron: No one CORRECT

2.If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Somewhere very very warm, with very few people and all of my children (Ron) Somewhere warm and sunny CORRECT

3.What is your biggest fear? Losing my husband or children. (Ron) something happening to my kids/family CORRECT

4.What was your favorite family vacation? N. Carolina, time on the beach with my family. (Ron) N. Carolina CORRECT

5.What would you change about yourself if you could? Rid myself of self-doubt and anxiety. I’d be unstoppable! (Ron) To be more extroverted and outgoing. CORRECT

6.What really makes you angry? Oodles of things. People acting like the boys we took into our family, aren’t “real” family, racial discrimination, animal abuse, bullying, gender stereotypes, and religion (Ron) “Oh jez! Incompetent people” WRONG

7.What motivates you to work hard? My family and their success. (Ron) To Help others WRONG.

8.What is your favorite thing about your career? Wanting my patients to feel better about themselves and giving them an improved quality of life. (Ron) Helping people CORRECT

9.Coke or Pepsi? Coke (Ron) coke CORRECT

10.What is your proudest accomplishment? Besides my having family, getting my BJJ black belt. (Ron) being a mother CORRECT

11.When did you meet for the first time? Was it a connection? Friends introduced us at his work, Moyer and Son. Nope, no connection!. (Ron) Moyer and son, I don’t think you spoke to me. no connection CORRECT

12.Favorite TV cartoon growing up as a kid? Scooby Doo. (Ron) I have no idea, I didn’t watch cartoons as a kid, Tom and Jerry? WRONG

13.Who makes you laugh the most? My husband. (Ron) me CORRECT

14.What would you be willing to do for a million dollars? Almost anything as long as my husband was okay with it and it didn’t hurt anything else. (Ron) eat red meat WRONG

15.What did you want to be when you were small? A teacher. (Ron) heavier WRONG

16.Do you want to be buried, Cremated, have your body donated to science or do some kind of eco-friendly burial when you die? The funeral market is a scam and it’s polluting the planet! Eco-friendly method on a green burial site. NO Coffin! (Ron) eco-friendly burial, or some shit like that. CORRECT

17.If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be? African Safari. (Ron) nothing WRONG

18.What is your favorite game or sport to watch and play? Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. (Ron) BJJ CORRECT

19.What household chore do you like the least? Cleaning the bathroom. (Ron) cleaning in general WRONG

20.What would you sing at Karaoke night? LOVE LOVE LOVE SINGING! Sinead O’Connor, Nothing Compares To You (and about 100 more songs). (Ron) Beastie Boys, fight for you right to party WRONG

21.What two radio stations do you listen to in the car the most? SiriusXM 100, 101. (Ron) The two Howard Stations CORRECT

22.Which would you rather do: wash dishes, mow the lawn, clean the bathroom, or vacuum the house? Mow the lawn (if it’s hot outside), otherwise vacuum. (Ron) mow CORRECT

23.Favorite color? Yellow. (Ron) black WRONG

24.If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? salad with lots of stuff in it. (Ron) lobster WRONG

25.How do you feel about adoption? Bring em’ on. Babies of any age! The more the merrier. (Ron) strongly CORRECT

26. Have you ever had a nickname? What is it? Sher (pronounced “Share”). (Ron) Dukers WRONG

27. Do you like or dislike surprises? Why or why not? Hate surprises. I wanna know. (Ron) no, don’t like being center of attention CORRECT

28. In the evening, would you rather play a game, visit a relative, watch a movie, or read? Ummm. Do nothing, so watch a movie I guess. (Ron) movie CORRECT

29. Would you rather vacation in Hawaii or Alaska, and why? Hawaii b/c it’s hot. (Ron) Hawaii b/c it’s warm and has beaches CORRECT

30. Would you rather win the lottery or work at the perfect job? And why? Lottery b/c then I could still work at the “perfect job” as much or little as I wanted. (Ron) work at perfect job, b/c you’d be happy and help people WRONG

31. Who would you want to be stranded with on a deserted island? My husband. (Ron) me CORRECT

32. If money was no object, what would you do all day? Create my utopia, an animal rescue. (Ron) Some kind of crap with animals CORRECT

33. If you could go back in time, what year would you travel to? 1995 (after college). (Ron) 1978 WRONG

34. How would your friends describe you? I’m not sure. Stubborn, strong willed? Sensitive. (Ron) passionate WRONG

35. What are your hobbies? Momming. Jiu-jitsu. Animal stuff. (Ron) teaching bjj and pets CORRECT

36. What is the best gift you have been given? My family. (and my jukebox that breaks all the time). (Ron) children CORRECT

37. What is the worst gift you have received? Anything that has to do with cleaning. (Ron) dryer vent CORRECT

38. Aside from necessities, what one thing could you not go a day without? My animals….esp my dog Mable! (Ron) exercise WRONG

39. List two pet peeves: My husband yelling about my animals, my kids not doing their chores. (Ron) me groping you, bad drivers WRONG

40. Where do you see yourself in five years? Wanting more kids (Ron) here WRONG

41. How many pairs of shoes do you own? idk10?, the same shoes I had 5 years ago (although I’ll replace my sneakers once or twice a year). (Ron) 10 CORRECT

42. If you were a super-hero, what powers would you have? I could be invisible. (Ron) strength WRONG

43. What would you do if you won the lottery? Quit my job and Open an animal sanctuary. (Ron) pay off all debt WRONG

44. Finish things as soon as possible or wait until the last minute? Wait until the last minute. (Ron) wait until the last minute CORRECT

45. What unconscious mannerism do you display if you are upset or uncomfortable in a situation? I become very quiet... (Ron) chew face WRONG

46. If you could go back in time to change one thing, what would it be? How I acted as a teenager. I could be pretty rotten. (Ron) not throwing poop out a window WRONG

47. If you could share a meal with any 4 individuals, living or dead, who would they be? Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hendrix, mommom, and God. (Ron) all your grandparents but especially your mommom Knipe WRONG

48. How do you feel about group vacations with other couples? That sounds awful. (Ron) not happening CORRECT

49. What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)? An entire day when I was young, partying all night. (Ron) 24hrs partying CORRECT

50. How Do you handle anger? I bottle it up for a while and get quiet. (Ron) not well, you get quiet CORRECT

51. Would you rather trade intelligence for looks or looks for intelligence? Interesting question! I’m already getting close to hitting the wall with looks….but I also can’t afford to lose any intelligence either. I’d have to trade looks for more intelligence. (Ron) intelligence for looks WRONG

52. How often do you buy clothes? Almost never. (Ron) not often CORRECT

53. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Probably (who hasn’t). It would be secret. (Ron) probably CORRECT

54. What's your favorite holiday? CHRISTMAS! (Ron) Christmas CORRECT

55. What do you drink when you go out for social occasions? Coke (not diet either). (Ron) water or coke CORRECT

56. What was the last thing you recorded on TV? True blood. (Ron) SNL WRONG

57. Do you prefer the live version or studio version of an album? Studio. (Ron) Studio CORRECT

58. What's your favorite type of foreign food? Mexican. (Ron) mexican CORRECT

59. Are you a clean or messy person? Pretty Messy. (Ron) messy CORRECT

60. Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life? Uma Thurman. (Ron) Uma Thurman CORRECT

61. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? 30mins (Ron) 1hr WRONG

62. What kitchen appliance do you use every day? Dishwasher. (Ron) microwave WRONG

63. What's your favorite fast food chain? Taco Bell. (Ron) taco bell CORRECT

64. What's your favorite family recipe or dish? mommoms apple pie. (Ron) Mommoms apple pie CORRECT

65. Do you love or hate rollercoasters? Love. (Ron) Love CORRECT

66. What's your favorite family tradition? Christmas Morning Breakfast at my moms. (Ron) Christmas Eve CORRECT

67. What is your favorite childhood memory? Having baby bunnies with my dad. (Ron) I have no idea WRONG

68. What's your favorite movie? Natural Born Killers (Ron) Pulp fiction WRONG

69. How old were you when you learned Santa wasn't real? How did you find out? Devastating. I wanted to believe forever. I was forced to “not believe” at about 12. My aunt said on Christmas day “You know Santas not real, right?”. Ugh. (Ron) 8, I think your friend Dorene probably told you. WRONG

70. Is your glass half full or half empty? Half empty….just waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Ron) Half empty CORRECT

71. What's the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of love? Dating my husband was risky. (Ron) got married WRONG

72. What is your favorite chip flavor? Salt and vinegar. (Ron) salt and vinegar CORRECT

73. What was your favorite subject in school? Science. (Ron) none WRONG

74. What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten? I’m not very daring. Seaweed. (Ron) I have no idea, you really don’t care for food WRONG

75. Do you collect anything? Unwanted animals. (Ron) records WRONG

76. Is there anything you wished would come back into fashion? Bell bottoms. (Ron) The 70s WRONG

77. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert. (Ron) Introvert CORRECT

78. Which of the five senses would you say is your strongest? touch. (Ron) You have a nose like a dog WRONG

79. Have you ever had a surprise party? (that was an actual surprise) Nope…and I don’t want one. (Ron) No CORRECT

80. Best quality and worst quality? Best-compassionate/empathetic, Worst-Too compassionate/empathetic to a fault. (Ron) best-caring, worst-caring too much CORRECT

81. What do you do to keep fit? Brazilian Jiu-jitsu but I also just exercise to not be a big lump of (Ron) BJJ and exercise CORRECT

82. Does your family have a “motto” – spoken or unspoken? I say “wrong is wrong, damn it”. (Ron) Never a wrong time to do the right thing never a right time to do the wrong thing WRONG

83. If you were ruler of your own country what would be the first law you would introduce? ALL KINDS OF RULES about limiting the use of animals for consumption. NO FACTORY FARMS! (Ron) NO killing of animals CORRECT

84. Are you a leader or follower? Leader (Ron) leader CORRECT

85. What three things do you think of the most each day? Work, family, how tired I am. (Ron) something happening to my kids, something happening to ron, or me WRONG

86. If you had a warning label, what would yours say? Proceed with caution. (Ron) warning fragile WRONG

87. What song would you say best sums you up? Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd. (Ron) someone left the cake out in the rain, AKA MacArthur Park by Donna Summer WRONG

88. What is your favorite drink? Vanilla Chai Latte. (Ron) water WRONG 89. Who was your first crush? Bo Duke (on Dukes of Hazzard). (Ron) Shaun Cassidy WRONG

90. What's the most interesting thing you can see out of your kitchen window? My chickens. (Ron) chickens CORRECT

91. On a scale of 1-10 how funny would you say you are? 6. (Ron) 8 WRONG

92. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Working like a dog and getting no where. (Ron) here WRONG

93. What was your first job? Working at an awful pizza shop. (Ron) pizza shop CORRECT

94. If you could join any past or current music group which would you want to join? The Doors. (Ron) The dead WRONG

95. Do you believe in an after life? Yes. (Ron) yes CORRECT

96. You’ll never understand people who do what.....? Fart in front of anyone intentionally. (Ron) hunt WRONG

97. Who would i hate to see naked? Any parental figures. (Ron) parents CORRECT

98. If you had to describe yourself as an animal, which one would it be? Probably a cat. I can be affectionate one minute but turn and walk away b/c you are boring me the next. I don’t like to be told what to do…and I’m not easy to control. “Obedient” isn’t my strong point. (Ron) cat, b/c you can be a loner and snobby (or some might perceive you to be that way). CORRECT

99. What is something that turns you off about another person? If they don’t like animals. (Ron) people who are loud WRONG

100. Who knows you the best? My husband. (Ron) Me CORRECT

The end

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