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pictureinme · 7 months

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kinktober xii. SEMI-PUBLIC - neil lewis

word count: ~900 tags: blow-jobs, car sex, somewhat subby neil as per usual, raisinet propaganda, also pushing my opinion of a film onto y'all masterlist | ao3

“Got the snacks ready?” Neil pulls into the parking space, trailers still playing on the gigantic drive-in screen.

You nod, grinning widely, “Yup, we got some Sno-Caps, Twizzlers, Milk Duds… and Raisinets!”

His face contorted to one of disgust, “Jesus, you actually like Raisinets? I thought that was just for like, old people, or whatever.”

“Man, come on, they’re really good!” You pout, and push one against his tightly closed lips, “Just try one, for me?”

Shaking his head quickly, Neil leans as far away as he can from you, still being in the seat next to you. He speaks through his closed lips to the best of his ability, “Get that shit away from me, heathen!”

You manage to sneak it in while he calls you a heathen, and he spits it out at your face, hitting your cheek, “Ew, ew, ew! Neil, you just fucking spat on me!”

He cocks an eyebrow, smirking, “You’ve had things a lot worse than that on your face, (Y/N).”

Rolling your eyes, you begin to retort, but the screen begins to dim, “This movie better be good, tickets were way too expensive for a dingy ass drive-in like this…”

Neil jokingly flicks your forehead, “Shush! Don’t insult this place of honor.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you kiss him on the cheek quickly, “Pass me the popcorn.”

The two of you snapped up the opportunity to watch the 1930s horror film Condemned To Live in a genuine restored drive-in theater. Restored was a strong word, the parking lot was full of barely trimmed weeds, and the quality of the food trucks surrounding it was subpar. The screen was falling apart, the whole shebang.

You prayed the movie would be the saving grace of your evening, but it turns out it was the cherry on top. It was dreary at best, suicide-inducing at its worst.

Neil looked as if he was enjoying it, but you mustered up something he might enjoy more. You sneak your hand onto his thigh, gently tracing shapes into it. He didn’t seem to notice your fingers moving their way up, or maybe he was playing along.

Biting your lip, you ghost your hand over Neil’s somewhat tightening jeans, and his hand stops you, “What do you think you’re playing at, babe?”

Smiling rather innocently, you whisper, “Oh, nothing in particular. Movie’s just a bit… dry, is all.”

“Well, I find it to be rather exciting, so you better keep quiet.”

He didn’t tell you to stop, so you take that as a good sign. Beginning to unbutton and unzip his slacks, you hear his breath catch. Your hand slips into his checkered briefs– how cartoonish– and you feel just how hard Neil is.

Teasing him for it would be so easy, but you don’t wanna interrupt his enjoyment of the movie. Leaning your head down, you kiss his tip gently. Neil’s thighs shuffle in the sudden discomfort of his car’s seat, but he doesn’t stop you or urge you on.

You bob your head down suddenly, take as much of his length into your mouth as you can, and your hand reaches what you can’t. His hand quickly comes down to hold your head, practically petting your hair.

“God, your mouth…”

“Keep watching the movie, big boy. Thought you liked it?”

Neil groans as you move up and down his length again, and you smile at the noise. He was so easy, and you ate it up. Your other hand that wasn’t gripping his dick like it was a lifeline moves down to cup him, and his hips thrust up.

You choke, but laugh at his desperation, “Easy, now.”

His eyes roll, but his impatience fades when you lean down to suck at his balls especially hard. Your tongue passed over them incessantly, and his little moans were almost loud enough to alert anyone else in the drive-in.

“Stay quiet for me, come on.”

Neil pulls your head back up by the hair, motioning you to suck him off again, “Please, (Y/N).”

You oblige, but not without giving him a quick squint. You want him to come in your mouth as soon as possible, the movie’s dialogue was making you feel murderous. Working hard, you flatten your tongue and suck at his tip, feeling his hips twitching at every tiny ministration.

“So close, come on, come on, please!”

It took everything not to mock Neil for being so eager, but you were a bit preoccupied with him beginning to fuck your mouth. Relaxing your jaw, and letting him use your mouth like a toy, he quickly stutters into your mouth, releasing down your throat.

In any other situation, you would’ve spat it out, but this time, you decided to show him you swallowing. Neil’s eyes widen, even in his lethargic state, and his mouth falls open in a whine, “God, you’re sexy, (Y/N).”

You kiss him harshly, the taste of his release still on your tongue. Unexpectedly, he starts to suck on your tongue, and you smile widely into the kiss.

“Did you even like the movie, Neil?”

“Fuck, no,” he bites at your bottom lip, “Was hoping you’d find a way to make it enjoyable, and you delivered.”

#neil lewis x reader #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy smut #kinktober 2023

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dearabby1990 · 22 days

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Chapter 5: Popcorn candy & Kisses

Walking up to the ticket booth you both decided on seeing the last showing of Monster Squad holding you’re hand in his walking to the concessions he playfully bumps his shoulder into yours giving you the most heart warming smile. “Okay beautiful what should we get besides the obvious popcorn I need to know what my girl’s favorite movie candy is” your cheeks flush as you blush at his statement his girl huh you loved the sound of that & how it made you feel like you’d just float away if it wasn’t for him holding your hand keeping you grounded. “Well depending on the mood I either get sno caps or goobers but we can get whatever you want as long as it isn’t licorice people who eat that crap are mentally unstable” you full heartedly laugh he places a kiss to your forehead “I knew I liked you tell ya what we’ll get both & share everything you nob in agreement & head off to find seats. It’s not very packed for a weekend night but you’re not complaining gives you both a chance to take your pick of the theater. Decided on a spot just in the center where the screen looked At perfect eye level the previews are over & the movie starts. Eddie glances over at you with the most incredible smile & he shoots you a wink that would’ve made you knees buckle if you weren’t sitting. Putting his arm across the back of your seat so you decide to lean into him putting your head against his shoulder sharing your snacks enjoying the movie & each other. You take a chance & take one of his hands placing a kiss to the back of his hand before resting it onto your lap caressing his hand with your thumb in small circles while you watch the movie. At the ending credits Eddie stands up stretching out all his muscles and you can’t help but stare he’s like something out of those Greek mythology books you read in high school. He offers you his hand and you both head out of the auditorium towards the doors laughing about the film. “Who would’ve known wolf man had nards” Eddie almost falls forward laughing “shit I don’t know if I would’ve even thought of that I probably would’ve shit my pants and ran” you both laugh as Eddie helps you into the van closing your door for you. He gets in and sits there for a moment & then turns to you. “Hey do you wanna come take a ride with me somewhere I wanna show you something… I mean if you want to you don’t have to.. you know what never…” you cut him off before he can finish “Eddie relax I’d love to take a ride with you” you lean forward making eye contact with him giving him a reassuring smile he does it in return starting the van and heading to the next destination while Ozzy Bark at the moon play’s through the stereo. You’ve been driving awhile & wherever you’re heading there sure are a lot of trees in this part of town. Enjoy the breeze against your face you put your arm across the open window and place your chin on your forearm and take in all natures beauty the smell of honeysuckle in the air & the sound of gravel & cicadas. Eddie takes your hand in his as he continues to drive taking in how breathtaking you look just enjoying the ride and nature as he thinks to himself how lucky his is to be with you right now. If only you knew how he truly felt about you the whole truth he didn’t want to rush things and scare you off so for now he holds that conversation for another time right now he’s just enjoying being in your presence & he’ll take any version of you he can get & love it just as much as he loves you. Yeah that’s right Edward Theodore Munson is in love with you he just doesn’t know how he’s gonna tell you or when but for now he’s going to have fun and enjoy every second with you & really make it count.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn

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jendoe · 1 year

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🧥🪹(empty nest)🍿🎪🖍️❤️‍🩹 for hero!

i haven't talked about her in a hot minute so let's fix that

What’s their style like? Do they put a lot of effort into what they wear?

She is very particular about what she wears! Lots of chunky mod jewelry. Expensive mini dresses and shoes that don't usually last very long in her closet because she doesn't care about blood stains. Almost everything she owns is some shade of pink, orange, or yellow. Pink lemonade or whatever...

When did they move out of their family home, if ever? What was the relationship with their family like?

She'd already tried to leave New Bordeaux once and was very much planning on not going back once she met Neil, but the death of her brothers put a wrench in that plan (not the Neil part because he followed her home like a damn dog???? smh). She doesn't manage to actually get out of there until 1968 and that's it. She never returns. She wasn't very close with Claudio or Alessio while they were alive, though that doesn't mean she didn't adore them— just hated how they babied her. Same thing with Dino. Her and Alicia... well. They can barely be in a room together without getting into some kind of argument, big or small. They're too similar in the worst of ways.

What’s their go-to food or candy at a movie theatre?

She is definitely a popcorn and sno-caps person.

Would they ever go to a music festival, a Renaissance fair, a holiday parade, or some other large communal event? Would they dress up to fit a theme? What would their favorite part of it be?

She would have to be convinced. Antisocial queen. That said, I do think she would go hard on any themed event because she loves dressing up, even if it's for something silly.

What was their favorite thing to do in school as a kid?

This loser... she loved math lessons! I'd also say any chance she got to just sit and read a book without anybody bothering her. Again, antisocial queen.

When they’re heartbroken or extremely upset, what makes them feel better?

Simply a drive around New Bordeaux. It's comforting for her to see all the familiar lights and buildings.

#oc: hero valentine #god. sorry this took so long #MY BRAIN took a long nap. but i can type again #me remembering neil and hero are a thing like oh shit. yeah.#he is just So Devoted to her stupid ass idk what he sees in her #also hero's Interest in math always makes me :) idk i just like it #thank you sososo much mwah!!

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sebastian-blakewood · 10 days

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CHARACTER INFORMATION:

full name: Sebastian Blakewood

nickname(s): Seb, Sebby

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

sexuality: heterosexual

age: thirty-two

relationship status: single

birth date: november 3, 1991

birth place: Charleston, South Carolina

time in town: since january 21, 2023

occupation: IT manager

parents: Troy Blakewood & Serena Hutchins (deceased)

siblings: Orion Blakewood

personality: overly independent, nervous, intelligent, fast paced

pet: none

APPEARANCE:

celebrity doppelgänger: oliver starke

height: 6'2"

hair color: light brown

eye color: blue

FAVORITES:

color: orange

food: french onion soup

non-alcoholic beverage: gatorade zero

alcoholic beverage: any IPA beer

season: summer

candle scent: midnight sky

book: last girl ghosted

video game: call of duty; modern warfare 2

tv show: the good doctor

animated tv show: big mouth

movie: for the love of the game

holiday movie: nightmare before christmas

disney movie: hercules

pixar movie: monster's inc

disney original movie: eddie's million dollar cookoff

candy: bottle caps

chocolate candy: sno caps

Fruit: apples

Vegetable: celery

cuisine to eat: anything italian

cuisine to make: anything microwaved

genre of music: country

artist: lil dicky

song: titanium by david guetta ft. sia

BIOGRAPHY:

tw; death Sebastian never grew up with many expectations because he knew that people were always going to let you down. It was probably because his father had always been the one letting people down since he had Sebastian. His mother was always there for him, but it always seemed that his father was coming and going. It always seemed like there was somewhere else more important to be to the point where it was just Sebastian and his mother. Eventually, there was one night where his father left and he never came back when Sebastian was a year and a half old. He didn't know where his father went but he never came back and worried that something happened to him, Sebastian's mother posted out a missing person's report but come to find out he had just moved states and decided to start again with someone else. This was heartbreaking to Sebastian's mom and it wasn't something that she ever wanted him to find out about. From a young age, it was clear that Sebastian was proficient in baseball. He loved the sport whether it was watching it or participating in it. It was something his mom and him bonded over because she was raised on it as well. Even though they rooted for apposing teams, they would always still have fun with one another. In high school, Sebastian continued to play baseball and was even offered a scholarship to his college of choice and he decided to go and play for them. While he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, he knew that Baseball was a big passion of his so that made sense. Especially since college was free. Not that money was ever something that Sebastian and his mom worried about. While in college, Sebastian had taken a computer class for his liberal arts degree and he loved the idea of learning more about computers so he decided to take a couple more classes that revolved around the use of computers and he was falling in love with coding and learning how different programs worked. He decided to switch his degree to IT Tech and that seemed to become a real passion of his. While he was in school for five years, it never bothered him because he changed his major too late to graduate on time, plus it gave him more time to play baseball. Graduation days was the best and worst day of his life for very different reasons. He was graduating at the top of his class and while his mom was driving to the ceremony, she was hit by a tractor trailer and she died on impact. Obviously, Sebastian didn't know this and he gave his speech where he thanked his mom for being his number one supporter. He found out after the ceremony about the incident and he was heartbroken. He felt into a deep despair where he didn't get out of bed for days and then he turned to drinking to help him cope with the loss of his best friend. At the end of the day though, he needed to get up and move on so he decided to sell their family home and he moved to Los Angeles where he started building a name for himself in the tech world. He worked his way up the ladder and he felt like he was missing something so he found out where his father was and he found out that his father had gone and gotten himself another family. This infuriated Sebastian and he needed to confront him so he went to New York where his father was and they spoke about things. After finding out that he had a half brother, Orion, he decided that he wanted to build a relationship because his mother was gone and his father was basically dead to him so he went to Kismet Harbor and accepted a job as an IT manager and was hoping to build a relationship with his brother.

#kismetharbor.intro

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snakegirllovehandles · 3 months

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I love NECCO Wafers and Sno Caps but for some reason nobody in or around the area I live sells them.

I can only find them when I drive out of town and it's maddening.

#actually blogging on your blog #yes I am an old person candy enjoyer #listen to me: spiced candies are delicious for the same reason that sour candies are delicious #strong contrasts and flavors

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insomniamamma · 3 years

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Late Bloomers: Ezra x F! Reader w/Cee

A/n: Set in the "Liminal" AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's legal guardian after a car accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Set sometime between "Ferris Wheels Are For Old People" and "Surf City Goodness." Reader is Ezra's neighbor. Established relationship (sort of, IDK how to tag what they are). For @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Kissing. Touching. A little spicier than I usually go, which isn't saying whole lot. A little language. Cee, as usual, needs her own warning. Set during the pandemic shut down. Mentions of covid. Also, I feel like 'The Apple' needs it's own warning. I'll link the trailer at the end.

"You sure you don't want to come with us, Birdie?" Cee sits at their scarred kitchen table, her laptop, textbooks and a pile of papers around her. She frowns. "I gotta study," she says, "Ms Stewart is really serious about this quiz. She's not grading on a curve this time." Ezra narrows his eyes. "You have never spent a Saturday night studying in your life," he says. Cee frowns up at him. "You've never been in Ms. Stewart's physics class," says Cee, "She's a hard ass. Anyway, I'm still pulling an 'A' in her class, but I don't want to fuck up my average." "Jesus, Cee," Ezra mutters, and you have to smile. She rolls her eyes. "I know, I know--" "Don't say 'fuck' at school," they say in unison. "They're doing double features all summer," says Cee, "I can miss one. I've seen all these movies anyway." She smirks, "I want to hear what you think of 'The Apple.'" Ezra rummages around for his keys and Cee drops you the most exaggerated wink you've ever seen in your life. "Have fun, guys," she says.

Covid has nuked most of the things you used to do for fun, restaurants and shows, hell, even the libraries are closed. The only business in town that's thriving is the Star-City Drive In. There haven't been any big studio releases in a while, so they've been doing Fright Night Fridays and Sci-Fi Saturdays. Tonight's double feature is Flash Gordon and The Apple. "They've got this weird way of operating the concession stand now," says Ezra, "Cause of the pandemic. You've gotta text them your order and I guess they bring it out to you--" Ezra's gotten pretty good at working his phone one-handed, but you can see the frustration clouding his face. "Let me," you say, loading the menu onto your phone, "Let's get a big popcorn and share it. You okay with the fake butter?" "Of course I'm okay with the fake butter, what kind of monster do you take me for?" "How about candy?" You ask, scrolling through, "It's the usual suspects." "Sno-caps," he says, "How about you?" "I'm thinking Milk Duds," you say. "Now that is an excellent way to lose a filling, Sunshine." "Popcorn and Milk Duds together? Worth the risk," you say and text your order off to the concession stand. It's not quite dark yet, a reel of movie trivia that no one cares about shines ghost pale on the screen. Ez has got the radio tuned to pick up the sound, but there's not much to listen to yet so it's turned down low, background noise with the cicadas and birdsong. The big screen backs up against a farmer's field run wild and a dark stand of trees. "Switch places with me," says Ezra, and gets out of the truck. He comes around to your side and opens the door for you. "Why?" "Indulge me," says Ezra, so you do as he asks and settle in to the driver's side. Ezra's truck has bench seats with vinyl that creaks and cushions that hiss slightly as you move around. There's a tap at the window and you hook your mask over your ears and crank it down, popcorn and candy and you already payed with your phone, but press some rumpled bills into their gloved hands. "Why'd you want to switch places?" You ask around a mouthful of popcorn. "Shhh," says Ezra, "The movie's starting."

Flash Gordon is just as fun as you remember it being, majestic in its absurdity, a big love letter to all the terrible pulp sci-fi movies that came before, the two of you watch and snark and laugh and sing "Aaa-ahhh" whenever someone says Flash's name. We owe it to Queen, you say, and Ezra smiles big the way he does when something's caught him off guard, the way that crinkles his eyes and reveals his dimples, indeed we do. We owe it to Freddie Mercury. At some point his arm finds it's way around your shoulders and you lean into him. "So this is why you wanted to switch spots," you murmur. He raises his prosthetic arm, flickering movie light shining on the double hook at the end. "Can't exactly get handsy with Mr. Claw, now can I?" He grins, "These hooks might be a little chilly." "And pokey," you say, demonstrating with a dig to his ribs. The end credits are rolling. "You ever seen this next movie?" "The Apple?" He says, "No. Some sort of cult-movie thing. Cee made me promise not to IMDB it. She said I should go in with an open mind." "Oh boy," you laugh. "Right? Cee's tastes are all over the place. I suspect this will be either amazing or terrible on a scale that recalibrates our internal gauge of what terrible is." "You know she set us up, right?" "Yeah," says Ezra, "Little Bird fancies herself quite the matchmaker." "She winked at me." Ezra dimples. "Did she now?" "She looked like a cartoon," you laugh, "About as subtle as a ton of bricks." Ezra brays laughter and leans against you, squeezes you closer to him at the same time. He is beautiful when he laughs, all dimples and teeth eyes screwed shut in mirth and you take this opportunity to press a kiss against that tender place on his jaw where his beard refuses to grow. Ezra freezes, you feel his body go rigid against yours, and your first thought is to apologize, to pull back, and then he reaches for you, his broad, calloused palm cradling your face, drawing you to him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, reverent kiss that he does not fully withdraw from, his hand now resting on the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to yours, somehow more intimate than a kiss, this closeness, breathing each others exhalations, leaning against each other. "Cee's not wrong," you say, "We're good together." "We are, aren't we?" He gives your nape a gentle squeeze, and lets you go. The opening titles of The Apple flicker on screen and the music starts up.

"Oh, Ezra, what the fuck did we just watch?" "I don't know if 'watch' is the right word, Sunshine, we did not 'watch' The Apple. The Apple happened to us." "I don't think I've ever understood Stockholm syndrome until now." "I have been assaulted," says Ezra, "My civil rights have been violated." "It's like..." You trail off, "It's like if someone took '1984', 'A Star Is Born' and 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' and put them in a blender. I'm pretty sure this movie violates the Geneva conventions." Ezra laughs and so do you, leaning in to each other, giggles that become kisses, soft at first, but increasingly hungry, laced with need, your arms twine around his shoulders, his hand lingers at your side, toying with the hem of your shirt. "S'okay, Ez," you say as he nips at your jaw and then your neck, gentle graze of teeth that makes you shiver, "You can touch me." He kisses you deep, his tongue fever-hot against yours, hand sliding up the soft slope of your belly, cupping your breast, and you arch into his touch-- Tap Tap Tap. And there's a bright light shining through the passenger's side window. "Oh shit," says Ezra. You frantically yank your shirt back down, heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks, your earlobes flaming. "Movie's over guys," says the shadowed figure behind the flashlight's glare, "Take it someplace else." You open the door to switch places back with Ezra, the overhead light shows him red faced and horrified. "I'm sorry, I just--" "Get us out of here, Ez."

You stare out into the dark past the window, half-moon shining over fields and trees like a lazy eye. You snort laughter. "What's so funny?" "We got caught," you say, "We got caught necking at the drive-in like a couple of teenagers." "You're laughing because we got caught?" "I'm laughing because I've never made out with anyone at a drive-in, even when I was a teenager, and I'm laughing cause we got caught. After watching that trash-fire of a movie. We got caught making out over the end credits of 'The Apple'. I feel like we deserve some kind of award." You rest your hand on Ezra's leg, can just pick his smile in the dim lights from the dash. Ezra chuckles. "I never made out with anyone at the drive in before tonight either," says Ezra. "Bullshit," you say, and give him a good-natured poke. "It's true," he says, "For one, I didn't have access to a car. I would've had to borrow Ma's car, and there was no way that was ever going to happen. Also, I was not what the girls back then referred to as 'dating material'. Skinny as a rake with a mouthful of braces and an obvious birthmark? I was like a puppy trying to grow into it's ears and feet, a late bloomer if you will." You move your hand higher up along his thigh and give him a squeeze. "Better late than never." "Indeed."

Flash Gordon Trailer

The Apple Trailer

#writer wednesday #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #ezra and cee

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hannahindie · 4 years

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Oooh, headcanons, yesss. What about Dean at a drive-in movie theater? What's that like?

Ooo, that’s a good one. Let’s see...

The lot was fairly empty, a few cars scattered across the graveled parking area, but it was still early. Dean had insisted they get their as soon as the gates opened in order to get the perfect spot. His strategy worked; he had been able to ease the Impala into a spot about three rows back dead center before anyone else had even arrived. The beat up green cooler they always took on hunts was stashed in the back floorboard, filled with ice and beer. He had insisted that they had to get food at the drive-in, but he conceded that a nice cold beer would be a nice addition.

Y/N watched as he sauntered back to the car, arms full of snacks, and she pushed the door open for him as she raised an eyebrow.

“Get enough?”

“For the first movie, sure!” He carefully deposited the food on the seat in between them before sliding in behind the wheel, closing the door after him. “This is a double feature, which means the good food will be gone by the time the second movie starts. You gotta get the essentials or you’re going to miss out. Second movie is more of a filler snack kind of deal.”

“It looks like everyone else is going to miss out, judging by how much you just brought back.”

He grabbed a hot dog and shrugged, then took a giant bite from the mustard laden wiener. “Snooze ya lose,” he mumbled around the mouthful of bun and meat, “Drive-in hot dogs are the best!” He pushed one towards her, ketchup only just like she liked them.

“Mmm, those are good!” She took a second bite, relishing the sharp tang of the ketchup against the buttery bun. “You’re right...we may need to go back.”

“I told you. I haven’t eaten all day to prepare for this.” He grabbed a giant foam cup and held it out to her, “Try this.”

“What is it?”

“Just try it.”

She cautiously sipped at the straw, surprised by how cold it was. “Mmm, blue raspberry! What is this?”

“It’s a Slush Puppy. Can’t find them most places, but they have all the flavors here.” He popped a fry in his mouth and leaned back into the seat, his arm draped over the back.

“You know an awful lot about drive-in movies,” she commented as she grabbed the box of Sno-Caps and popped them open.

“Ha, well, we spent a lot of time at them. Dad would drop us off if we couldn’t find a hotel to stay in or if we were running low on cash, and it only cost a few bucks to get in. He’d give me five bucks to get snacks, Sammy usually was passed out by the time the movie started, and he would leave us at the back of the lot most of the time. If he didn’t come back by the time the movie was over, I’d drive to the closest laundromat and we’d wait for him.” He shook his head with a chuckle, and grabbed a Red Vine. “I don’t know how I didn’t get caught, ten year old driving a boat of a car, but it somehow always worked out.”

“He just left you?”

Dean shrugged, “Yea, but honestly, it’s some of the best memories I have. And look at me! My pop culture knowledge is superior.” He winked, then rolled down his window and turned the volume up on the speaker. “The movie is getting ready to start, you should turn on your speaker.”

Y/N did as she was told, then turned back to look at Dean. A Red Vine was dangling between his lips as he slowly munched on it and texted who she assumed was Sam. Though the story had made her feel sad for the kind of childhood he was raised in, she smiled as she observed him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he finished typing.

“What?”

“Nothing, excited for the movie.”

“Good. Hey, look, it’s starting!” He turned his attention back to the screen, his phone forgotten, and handed Y/N a tub of popcorn. “You haven’t seen Jurassic Park until you’ve seen it in a drive-in.”

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keelywolfe · 5 years

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FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky (Ch. 2)

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: So, @cheapbourbon came up with an amazing AU and did some lovely art for it: please look at it and love it.

To quote straight from the source because I love this:

•Expedition leader/ survivalist guide Edge •Theoretical astronomer Rus •Location: Scott South Pole Station/South Pole Telescope •Guest stars: snow, cold, stars, & budding affections

I couldn’t resist, so here we are.

Warning: I am not a scientist, sadly, and while I did some research on the South Pole Station and Antarctica in general, I can only assume I’ve made mistakes here. I also took a lot of liberties and I know it. This is all in fun, so, forgive me for my errors and since this is already an AU, let’s pretend that it’s an Alternate Earth where these things are correct and I didn’t screw anything up.Here we go…

Chapter 2

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

His bones were barely dry from the gloriously hot shower by the time Edge was readying himself to go back outside. The provisions would have been dealt with by now but Red hadn’t come in from the vehicle shed. Not worrying, yet, but always better to double and triple check when in doubt, particularly this far from civilization.

He stepped outside into fading daylight, trudging through light layer of new snow. They were coming into the cycle of shorter days, much to Alphys’s delight. Her research involved alternate power sources and the only issue that arose during this time was her reluctance to sleep while she did her experiments.

Edge’s interest for her research ended at the point where it provided the station with plenty of power and hot showers, and lately where it helped his brother. Her skills would have given her a permanent place on the station whether or not her relationship with Undyne bloomed as it did. That it had, and that it gave Undyne someplace else to focus her relentless attention was a gift to them all.

The lights were on in the shed and a brief search found his brother’s legs, sticking out from beneath one of the Sno Cats.

“Is something wrong?” Edge asked loudly, waiting as his brother jerked and then cursed vigorously, squirming out from under the Cat. His knit cap was askew, and he straightened it, glaring at Edge.

“fuck, bro,” Red grumbled, “slam the door or somethin’, would ya? and nah, nothing wrong, just some maintenance. how is the group settlin’ in?”

“If you’d bothered to come inside when they got here, you’d know.”

Red only grinned unabashedly and shook his head. “that’s your job, boss. the only reason i keep ‘em alive is there’s too much paperwork if someone croaks.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” Edge said dryly. He gave the shed a glance, taking in neat line of snow-ready vehicles. “I expect some of them will need transport tomorrow, is everything ready?”

“ready freddy,” Red agreed. He picked up a dirty rag from the floor and wiped his greasy hands fruitlessly. “so, what’s with the monster in the group?”

“How did you know about that?” Edge sighed, rhetorical as the question was.

Red confirmed it with a sly grin. “undyne. said there was an actual skeleton monster.”

“There was.” Edge refused to expand on the subject despite his brother’s eagerness. Instead, he crooked a finger at Red in a ‘come hither’ motion. “Come here.”

Red scowled but he did, grudgingly stepping closer. His frown deepened as Edge pulled off his ski cap, carefully examining his skull. The spiderweb of cracks beneath it looked better than only days before, but the soft, healing glow normally concealed by his cap was fading.

“You need to see Alphys for another treatment,” Edge told him, handing back the knit cap.

“yeah, yeah.” Red wandered over to his work bench, tossing his cap on it and straightening tools that didn’t need attention. “she’s already on me. tells me a few more treatments and it’ll be fused. then i can stop playing the hipster and let my skull out for some air.”

“If you wouldn’t get your skull busted open, you wouldn’t have these problems,” Edge pointed out, but he walked over to rub gentle fingertips over his brother’s skull, careful to skirt the damaged areas.

Red knocked his hand away, but without any real force. “i’ll try harder next time, boss. now what about the other skellie?”

Edge only shook his head. “You can see him at dinner, if you bother to show up."

“uh huh. speaking of chow, might want to check in on bun-bun.”

Truly, his brother had a skill for irritating others that few could imitate. “When she kills you for calling her that, I’m not going to stop her.”

“eh, she’d have to catch me first,” Red gave him a wolfish grin, hopping up to sit on the workbench with his legs dangling. It put them closer to a height and he smirked into Edge’s face as he said, “anyway, got her the supplies but she’s about to shit a brick if you don’t give her a headcount.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?” Edge reached out to smack him, fully expecting his brother to dodge the way he did. “You could have checked the manifest.”

“coiulda, shoulda, didn’t.”

“Finish up with the vehicles,” Edge sighed, and put his goggles back into place, heading back out to face the station cook. Night had fallen completely while he was in the vehicle shed, the first swirls of the aurora twisting overhead. Edge barely glanced at it, headed for the main door to face a little wrath.

~~*~~

From the delicious aroma that was coming from the kitchen area, Bonnie was caramelizing onions for whatever was on tonight’s dinner menu. The hydroponic gardens provided enough vegetables for her to be reasonably generous with them and so long as the core generator functioned, none of his charges would be dying of a scurvy, at least.

Edge waited in the doorway, watching her expertly switch between stirring pots and scraping pans, until she looked up. Then he signed, Did you need any help?

He was a decent cook in his own right, but the kitchen was Bonnie’s domain and he did not like to impose. On occasion, she did let him play prep cook, and chopping vegetation could be mindlessly relaxing. But generally, she preferred to work alone, especially on a day like today with a new roster of Humans with new tastes and dietary needs. Anytime Edge wanted to cook on his own was scheduled in advanced.

She didn’t stop what she was doing but her pointed look was telling. He smirked a little and gave in.

Twelve new, he signed. Eleven humans, one Monster.

That caught her attention enough that she actually set her spoon aside to sign back, Monster? Never had Monster before.

He shrugged and she nodded slowly, then went back to her pots and pans. Past knowing how many she was cooking for and their needs, Bonnie had little interest in their charges.

Special needs? she asked

Two listed vegetarian, Edge signed, none listed allergies.

She nodded again, vaguely pleased. Easy group.

She would certainly know. Bonnie had been with them from the start.

As a member of the Bun clan, she was of medium height, her furry ears reaching up to Edge’s chin, and Edge didn’t know what had caused her badly scarred face, leaving her with one eye cloudy and sightless. Not any more than she knew where he’d gotten his scars. Edge also didn’t know what had driven her up this far away from her surely enormous family and the larger Monster community and didn’t ask. Bonnie had applied for the job and demonstrated her skill at it. Nothing more was required.

But she was one of them and tonight, she would find a flash drive on her side table with Red’s symbol on it, along with dozens of new specialty books for her kindle reader and in return, there would be fresh cranberry scones for breakfast this weekend, a special favorite of his brother’s.

Their friendship was a mixture of antagonism and silent affection and Edge left them to it. He was rather fond of the scones as well.

Besides, who was he to judge when he was friends with Undyne.

Bonnie’s attention was once again completely focused on her cooking and Edge left her to it to finish his checks. Dinner would be within the hour and he was resigned to the fact that it was going to be eventful, one way or another.

~~*~~

By the time Edge got to their version of a mess hall, most of the researchers were already there. The table had the capacity for about twenty people, even those like their scholars who had laptops and notepads in front of them, the barest murmur of conversation carrying through the room.

Their facility was a small one but one of the priciest to visit. The remote location kept them from being overrun with cruise ship tourists and their equipment was top of the line, the best Humans and Monsters had to offer.

All researchers and scientists paid top dollar to come here and it was Edge’s job to ensure that they had all the basic tools they needed to work, plus as much comfort as could be reasonably provided. Tomorrow Undyne would show them the recreation facilities with her version of firm encouragement to use them. Overworking helped no one, a lesson that Alphys had taught them well.

Red was sitting at the far end of the table, slouching half-asleep and still wearing his sunglasses. Not that they needed them, snow blindness was not an issue without actual eyes, but it was a good reminder to speak to everyone about wearing their goggles during the daylight hours.

Next to him was Undyne and when she saw Edge come in, she grudgingly took apart the tower of forks and knives she was building. The chair next to her was empty and when Edge glanced at it, Undyne shrugged.

“Alphys isn’t coming down today,” she said, low.

Edge only nodded. Their engineer’s tolerance for outsiders varied by the day and she often took her meals in her room for the first week or so a new group arrived.

The door opened, catching his attention and he turned in time to see Rus, the only person still missing. He glanced at a chair at the end of the long table, but chose instead to sit a little away from the others, closer to Edge and his team.

Edge couldn’t say he was surprised. Even Humans who claimed to be intellectuals could have their prejudices against Monsters and their time on the boat had surely given Rus an idea of how his companions would be treating him. Simply the differences in their wardrobes, the others in the crisp winter-wear and Rus in a baggy orange sweatshirt layered over thermals spoke volumes.

The door to the kitchen swung on its hinges and Bonnie emerged, carrying steaming serving dishes to the tables. To their credit, none of the Humans or Rus reacted strongly to her appearance. There was nothing more than murmur of thanks in a variety of languages and a few glances sent Edge’s way.

Good, they were learning.

He waved a hand at them, “Go ahead, we don’t stand much on ceremony here.”

A few more trips and soon the table was loaded with bowls. The food tended toward simpler, filling fare, generously seasoned, and all of it smelled tantalizing. If they could make one smug claim about the facility, it would be that no one had ever gone home and complained about the food.

Edge took a buttery roll from one of the plates, tearing it open to spread it with their newly received strawberry jam. He ate it in two bites, not even bothering to stifle a groan of pleasure as it fairly melted in his mouth.

Thank you, Edge signed as Bonnie sat a platter of fragrant roasted vegetables in front of him. Undyne absently copied him before snagging a roll for herself, her sharp teeth tearing into the soft bread. Her ability to talk in hands was barely past mediocre even if she’d had all ten fingers, but she was learning.

More startling was the way Rus signed it as well, adding on looks delicious.

It was possible that Bonnie’s stoic expression softened, just slightly. She nodded to him and went back to the kitchen.

The muted conversation faded beneath hungry appreciation. All of them were probably starving after the trek earlier and there was plenty for everyone. Calorie intake was important, to keep up their strength, and Bonnie would ensure that everyone had their fair share.

Undyne ate with haste past her normal eagerness for food and it was only after she washed her plate and set it in the drainer that Edge learned why.

She sauntered over to the other side of the table where Rus was sitting, and her grin was not one that filled Edge with comfort. Rus seemed to agree; he stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyeing her warily.

“Well, hey there, pal,” Undyne slung an arm over Rus’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. He froze, looking at her from corner of his socket. “Don’t think I caught your name.”

“rus.” That single word was a sort of rusty squeak. The nerve he’d dredged up against Edge earlier seemed to desert him when faced with Undyne, but Edge wasn’t about to hold that against him. It showed a good instinct in self-preservation.

“Well, hiya, Rus,” Undyne purred, and it sent unease prickling up Edge’s spine. “What’re you in for?”

“research?” he offered weakly and she laughed, giving him a noogie that was firm enough for him to wince.

“Yeah, that part I know. On what?”

“for my thesis?” There was little confidence in him that this answer would satisfy Undyne.

“You’re a grad student?” Edge asked, frowning. Every other researcher that had ever been here had at the very least a PhD, more likely several.

“yeah? so?” There was a certain defensiveness there, a ghost of his earlier fire.

One of the others, an older Human male with an almost palpable arrogance opened his mouth as though about to insert himself into the conversation. Undyne only stared at him with stony coldness.

He turned his attention back to his plate.

Well, it was a definite improvement over her past ways of dealing with those she deemed as assholes.

Rus looked as though he wished he’d gotten the reprieve, no matter what insult the Human had to offer.

“Nothing wrong with it, kid, just unusual.” She bluntly ignored Rus’s muttered ‘not a kid.’ “Don’t think we’ve ever had a grad student out here before. The spots in the rotation fill up fast and it takes more than a semester of student teaching to cover the price tag. So, either you have a sugar daddy who pulled the strings to get you here or your research is of the more black ops variety. Which is it?”

Rus smirked then, unexpectedly, and tipped his head back against her arm where it still lay across his shoulders. “you have something against sugar mamas or are you just offering?”

A pinprick of crimson flared in Undyne’s eyes. For one moment, Edge tensed, waiting for an explosion but finally Undyne threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, he’s fun.” Her next noogie was nearly fierce enough to send him face first into his plate. “You’ve got it all wrong, I could use a sugar momma of my own if you’ve got one laying around. Go ahead and eat up, fashion victim, you’re gonna need it.”

Undyne went back to her seat, lounging back in her chair, and picking at her teeth with a sharp-clawed finger. Rus blinked a couple times and then went back to his dinner. But not without giving Edge a measuring sideways glance. One that Edge returned with a raise brow bone as he chewed his own food.

The muted conversation on the other side of the table dwindled as the others left, following Undyne’s silent lead in scraping their plate into the bin marked ‘food waste’ then washing it and setting it to drain.

The sight relaxed a last bit of tension in Edge’s soul. This group seemed like they would maintain their professionalism. In the past, they had ended up with the occasional researcher who didn’t understand the concept of pulling their own weight. Thus far, this group seemed to be willing to follow the unspoken rule.

Rus follow suit but unlike the others, he hesitated at the table. “let the cook know the grub was delicious, will ya?”

“Tell her yourself in the morning,” Undyne challenged.

“oh, i will, never hurts to hear it twice.” He waggled his fingers with a grin. “so to speak. i’m still whipped, think i’ll turn in early. sleep well, undyne.” He paused and Edge didn’t think he imagined the way his voice lowered in pitch, smooth as expensive whiskey, “sleep well, boss.”

“You as well,” Edge said evenly.

He didn’t mean to watch him walking away, the hint of a sway in his hips beneath those concealing sweatpants. When the door closed behind him, Edge stood to wash his own plate but there was no escape from Undyne’s sharp whistle.

“Oh, honey, he has your number,” Undyne said, gleefully.

“He said three words to me.” Edge rinsed his plate impatiently, setting it in the drying tray with a clack.

“Yeah, but was the way he said it.” From her delight, one would think she’d gotten a chance at second Gyftmas. “Lotta sex he managed to infuse into those three words. Better make sure you take him to your quarters. You’ve got better soundproofing and I’ve got odds on him being a screamer.”

“Undyne—"

“Not too late to bet that 10g.” She glanced at Red. To the unknowing eye, he would have seemed asleep, his plate pushed to the side and his skull resting on his folded arms. “You’ve been keeping quiet all fucking night, shithead. Don’t you think your brother needs to cut himself a slice of that?”

“yeah, i don’t think so.” Surprised, Edge sat back down. He was counting on his brother joining in with Undyne’s teasing. His seriousness was entirely unexpected and potentially worrisome. “that one has trouble written on his ass, in sharpie. i think you need to keep it in your pants, boss.”

Undyne’s grin faded a little. “What’re you thinking, little boss?”

He slipped his sunglasses down, the crimson of his eye lights glaring over the rims. “i’m thinking he avoided answering your question. he never did tell you what he’s researching. they aren’t required to, trade secrets and all that shit, but usually they can’t shut up about it. so why didn’t he?”

Undyne shrugged. “So? Maybe he didn’t feel like it. You’ve never given a shit about any of their research before, anyway.”

“that was before we had another monster on the roster.” Red pulled his sunglasses off completely and Edge didn’t think his brother even knew he was rubbing a light hand over the cap on his skull. “we’re here because we are uniquely suited to months of limited sunlight and better cold tolerances than most humans. we’ve never had a monster come to do research. all i’m wondering is why now?”

“Don’t think that one is going to be able to add cold tolerance to his resume anytime soon.” More seriously, Undyne asked him, “You want me to keep an eye on him?”

“nothing obvious, but yeah.” Red ran a finger over his plate, swiping up a trace of gravy and licking it away. “boss, there’s nothing i can put a finger on, but my instincts are telling me something is strange about him being here. and that jacket of his has an embassy patch.”

“That’s true,” Edge murmured.

“The embassy?” Undyne scoffed. She slammed a fist on the table, sending silverware bouncing. “Those fuckers haven’t bothered us since they tossed us on our asses. They haven’t said so much as a fuck you to us in years. He paid his dues, he hopped the boat. doesn’t mean the Embassy has anything to do with it.

“And if they are involved in his presence here, why would he be wearing the jacket?” Edge added. He couldn’t say he agreed with his brother’s concerns, but Red had sensed strange threats in the past. It was difficult to say if this was a similar situation or paranoia.

Red could only shrug. “still doesn’t mean they don’t.

“Fair enough, little boss. But I think you’re wrong about one thing. If the big boss here gets in our fashion victim’s pants, we’ll get the info live and squirming.” She nudged Edge with a vicious elbow, and he pushed her roughly away, hard enough to knock her to the floor. She lay there cackling, one leg sprawled over the seat of her chair.

And there was the conspiring glee he’d been expecting from his brother. Red laughed, showing off sharp, gleaming teeth, “hey, she ain’t wrong, might want to rethink that plan, boss.”

“You’re both fired,” Edge grumbled. “All right, fine, keep an eye on him for a few days, Undyne. I’m going to do final rounds and then I’m hitting the sack. This was a long fucking day.”

“Could be a long night fucking if you stop by to read Ruuuuuus a bedtime story,” Undyne sang out from the floor.

Edge ignored her and his brother’s snickering, and started through his nighttime checklist. He didn’t spend a moment thinking about pale eye lights and a whiskey smooth voice, of a sleepy figure in a bed, cozied into a blanket.

It was early yet but his own bed was calling his name. His empty bed, thank you, and that was how it would remain.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #arctic AU

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gray-autumn-sky · 5 years

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Sleepless in Seattle, Chapter 2

April 16, 1992- Seattle, Washington:

He couldn’t rationalize it, and he knew that if he tried to understand it, he’d go insane.

In the week since Marian died, he’d been living in a fog, and he’d never been more lost.

Marian was always the one who handled things, and now that he was tasked with comforting their son, he wasn’t sure where to begin. This was the sort of thing that, under any other circumstances, she would do.

Every time he and Roland spoke, Roland had a million questions that the couldn’t answer—and had it not been for his sister and her girlfriend, Ruby’s constant presence in their lives, neither he nor Roland would be functioning.

He knew that their help came with an expiration date; and though neither of them would ever tell him they could no longer help, he knew that it wasn’t fair for their lives to come to a complete halt simply because his life had. So, he gave himself until the end of Marian’s wake to pull himself together and figure out what he’d do next. He told himself that the funeral would bring closure, but he was wrong and still, he was grappling with how he’d cope with this new reality.

“So, you’ve got enough food to last through the end of next week,” Ruby says.

“For most of these, just pop them in the microwave for five minutes and—“ He’s vaguely aware that his sister’s voice has stopped. “Do you know how to make juice? I know Roland likes that terrible freezer kind that—“

“Yeah,” he murmurs absently, staring out at the backyard, watching as it rains. “Five minutes in the microwave.”

“Robin—“

‘Hm?”

“Maybe we should stay—“

“Yeah,” Ruby agrees. “Just until—“

“No,” he cuts in, turning back to them. “I need to figure this out on my own, and I won’t do that if you two are here.”

“Robin, it’s a little soon to—“

“It’s not going to get any easier.”

Belle sighs as she crosses the kitchen. “I’d be happy to—“

“No,” he says again. “I need to figure this out, and the sooner I do, the better.”

He doesn't give them time to argue. Instead, he leans in and gives his sister a loose hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then does the same to Ruby before excusing himself.

He draws in a long breath as he walks toward Roland’s bedroom, and his heart breaks when he finds him, curled up in the old rocking chair where Marian used to read him his bedtime story.

“Roland—“

“I miss her.”

“I know, son,” he sighs as he comes into the room. “I do, too.”

“My heart hurts.”

“Mine, too.”

“I can still smell her,” he says, looking up. “On the chair.”

A tight smile tugs onto his lips as he thinks about the last few nights and the way he clung to Marian’s pillow, trying in vain to feel close to her.

“Do you think mama’s in heaven?”

“I know she is,” Robin says, swallowing through what he hopes isn’t a lie. “If anyone could get into heaven, it’s her.”

“What’s it like there?”

“In heaven?”

Roland nods as he considers—he hasn’t really thought about this before. He’s never been religious and he’s not sure he believes in any sort of afterlife, but his skepticism isn’t what his son needs.

“Do you remember the lake house we went to last summer?”

Roland nods. “It’s hard to forget a place without electricity… or a bathroom.”

Robin laughs. “Well, that’s true, but do you remember how happy mum was there?” Again, Roland nods. “Well, it’s like that.”

“Is it?”

Sitting down on the little ottoman across from him, he leans in and grabs onto Roland’s legs, pulling him to the edge of the chair.

“Do you remember how happy she was there, though?” He asks, his voice almost pleading—and an odd feeling of relief washes over him when Roland nods. “Well, heaven is a lot like that.”

“What if you don’t like lake houses?

“Well… it’s… different for everyone.”

“Oh.”

“So, for mama, it’s—“ He draws in a breath, trying not to feel the pain of a happy memory that now feels so bittersweet. “Every morning she gets up and does yoga by the lake and—“

“She loved doing that.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “And then, she has a big breakfast—“

“Oatmeal with raspberries?” Roland asks, his eyes lighting up with hope. “That was her favorite.”

“Yes, every morning she gets a bowl of oatmeal and raspberries, and then… she spends the rest of her day going on hikes and floating on a big inner tube in the lake and—“

“What if it rains?”

He blinks. “It doesn’t rain.”

“Good,” Roland decides. “Mama always hated the rain.”

“Yeah,” Robin murmurs, thinking of the argument that he and Marian had gotten into when his job moved them to Seattle. “She did.”

“What else is in heaven?” Roland asks. “Do they get to have bonfires? Mama always liked bonfires at night.”

“Oh, there’s a big one every single night,” Robin says, grinning as Roland brightens, seemingly comforted by his description of the afterlife. “And, of course, they get to make s’mores.”

“Good!”

“Yeah…”

“It sounds like she’d be happy there.”

Robin nods. “It does.”

Then, Roland’s face falls—and all over again, his heart aches. “Do you think she misses me?”

“All of the time.”

“But she won’t come back?”

“She can’t,” Robin replies. “But she does miss you and she hates that she can’t be here with you.”

“She’s going to miss my first soccer game.”

Robin nods, and his throat tightens. “I know.”

“You’ll be there, though?”

“Of course.”

“And… do you think… that… that… maybe she could… see it?” Roland asks shyly. “I mean, I know she can’t actually be there, but—“

“Ooh,” Robin breathes out. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“About the movies.”

Roland’s brow furrows with confusion. “What movies?”

“Well, whenever they’re really missing someone—like the way your mama will miss you—they can watch some of the things they’re missing.”

Roland nods, considering it as if it makes sense to him. “Do they sell popcorn?”

“Yes,” Robin nods. “Of course, with lots of butter and—“

“Do they sell Sno Caps?”

“What would heaven be without sno caps?”

Roland giggles. “That’s true.”

“So, whenever your mama misses you, all she has to do is buy a ticket and get a big bowl of popcorn and a big box of Sno Caps, and… sit back and watch.”

“Do you think she’ll watch my soccer game?”

“Oh, of course she will. You know how much she was looking forward to it.”

“Yeah,” Roland nods, grinning again. “She was.”

“She is.”

Again, Roland brightens as Robin takes hold of his legs, pulling him off of the chair and into his lap as he cuddles him too his chest. He takes long, deliberate breaths, gently rocking his son and breathing in the soft smell of his hair—and tears fill his eyes when he smells Marian’s shampoo.

“We’re going to be okay, Roland,” he whispers. “You and me, we’re going to figure this out.”

“Mama will help,” Roland replies. “I know she will… especially if she’s been watching these last couple of days.”

Robin pulls back. “Is that commentary on my burnt toast?”

Roland giggles. “Maybe.”

“Well, it’s a good thing she’s watching over us then.”

“Yeah,” Roland murmurs as he cuddles back in. “It is.”

_____

April 16, 1992- Greenwich, Connecticut:

They had an easy and relaxing evening—sushi for dinner followed by a movie, then afterward, he’d walked her home. It was one of the first really warm evenings of the year and they took their time, chatting lightly about the movie.

Being with him was… nice.

She liked him. She always had, and she’d forgotten what it was like to be in the company of someone she enjoyed.

When she’d left that evening, Henry—with Mal and Lily’s prodding—asked when he was going to meet her new boyfriend. The question made her bristle and she wasn’t sure boyfriend was the right term to describe what Daniel was to her. But she supposed, inviting him for a nightcap couldn’t hurt, and when Daniel casually asked about meeting Henry, she decided that, maybe, that meant it was time. After all, what harm could come from inviting him in for a cup of coffee and letting Henry tell him all about the science project he’d been working on.

Her stomach fluttered when they reached her doorstep, and she bit down on her lip and hesitated. She wasn’t sure how comfortable she was bringing a strange man into her son’s life, especially if she didn’t know how long he’d be a part of hers.

Dating was new again for her—and dating with a child was completely uncharted territory.

Sure, she enjoyed Daniel’s company and on each of their dates she’d had a good time; but there was something about being with him that felt off, something she couldn’t quite pin-point.

And it was driving her insane.

Daniel was exactly the sort of man she envisioned herself spending the rest of her life with—in fact, for part of her life he was exactly the man she envisioned herself spending the rest of her life with. He was good-natured and thoughtful, kind and considerate, and they had so many common interests. She had a good time when she was with him and because of their history, they were able to slide back into old and comfortable patterns. With Daniel, she knew exactly what to expect. There were no surprises or guesses. It was steady, and after a tumultuous year, Daniel was exactly what she should have wanted for herself and for her son.

Yet, there was something that didn’t quite feel right—and when he rubbed his thumb at the back of her wrist and smiled gently at her, she knew she should feel something.

But she didn’t, and she assumed the problem was with her.

She wasn’t used to this sort of thing and she wasn’t used to having her feelings considered. There wasn’t any reason she shouldn’t be happy with the seemingly fated turn her life had taken, and by the time they reached her doorstep, she managed to convince herself that what was feeling was… something other than what she was feeling, and with time, it would fade.

“So tonight was fun,” he tells her, awkwardly shifting on his feet and looking to the glowing porch light. “We seem to be making a habit of this.”

“Three dates in a week definitely sounds like a habit.” She grins. “But I’ve enjoyed them.”

“Me, too.”

She meant that—she did enjoy it. When they were together she didn’t think about her awful ex or looming deadlines or how much time she’d have between Henry's after school activities to grab a quick dinner for the two of them. When she was with him, she was fully present in the moment and when she wasn’t, she found herself looking forward to the next time they’d see each other.

“So, um… do you want to come in? You don’t have to, but—“

“I’d love to.”

“It’s a school night, so—“

“I won’t overstay my welcome. I promise.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, reaching for her key—and as she pushes the key into the lock, her breath catches when the door swings open. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Mal says. “But—“

“Sure you didn’t,” Regina saying, a little laugh rousing into her voice as she pulls the screen door open. “Daniel, you remember Mal, right?”

“Of course,” he says, grinning and extending his hand to shake hers. “How could I forget my girlfriend’s best friend?”

Mal’s brow arches as she looks to Regina.

“I mean, my high school girlfriend,” he clarifies, his cheeks flushing. “I didn't mean—“

“Smooth,” Regina laughs. “Come on in.” Taking a breath, she looks to Mal. “Is Henry awake?”

“Of course he is,” Mal says, shaking her head. “He and Lily are playing Zelda upstairs. But they think that I think she’s reading him a bedtime story.”

“Ah—“

“And judging by the sound effects coming from Henry’s room, they think I’m delusional… and Henry is wiping the floor with her.”

Laughing, Regina shakes her head. She’d anticipated a later-than-usual bed time since she’d gone out, and she was a little relieved that she’d still get to tuck him in. At nine years old, she knew those days were numbered and she wanted to cherish however many she had left.

“I’ll just go and… um… grab him,” Regina says, looking to Daniel. “He’s been asking when he gets to meet you and—“

“I want to meet him, too.”

“Can you grab my daughter, too?” Mal asks. “She still has math homework to do, and we really should be getting out of your way.”

Regina grins and nods, silently thanking her—both for babysitting and knowing when to leave—and as she heads up the stairs, she hears Mal and Daniel falling into a conversation about an old high school performance of The Crucible, and by the time she reaches the stairs, she can hear them laughing—and that makes her smile.

Leopold had never wanted to have anything to do with her friends, and in the rare times she brought them around, he was often icy and disinterested. He wouldn’t even fake it for just a couple of minutes to ease the awkwardness.

“Hey,” she murmurs, poking her head into Henry’s room. “Come on downstairs. There’s someone I want you to meet.” She offers Henry a quick wink before looking to Lily. “And I think your mom is about ready to go.”

Lily nods as Henry rolls off the bed, and she can’t help but smile was Lily gives him a high-five and turns off the TV.

Her stomach flutters as the three of them make their way downstairs, and when she reaches the kitchen, Mal is already wearing her coat.

“Oh, you don’t—“

“Yes, I do,” Mal says, reaching for Lily and linking her arm through hers. “Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

And then, as she turns around, she watches as Daniel turns to Henry. He introduces himself as an old friend of hers and shakes his hand, and by the time she’s walked Mal to the front door, Henry is telling him all about the video game he and Lily had just been playing. She doesn't interrupt; she just lets them talk as she goes to the kitchen and pours two mugs of coffee.

She can’t help but laugh when she returns because Henry is going on and on about the game, and Daniel is doing his best to follow along, but is staring at her son as if he’s speaking Chinese—and when he notices her, he looks up briefly, offers a quick wink, then returns his focus to Henry.

And once more, she finds herself thinking that she'd be crazy not to be interested in him.

#oq ff #outlaw queen #advent 2018

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unsettlingshortstories · 4 years

Text

Premium Harmony

Stephen King (2009)

They’ve been married for ten years and for a long time everything was O.K.—swell—but now they argue. Now they argue quite a lot. It’s really all the same argument. It has circularity. It is, Ray thinks, like a dog track. When they argue, they’re like greyhounds chasing the mechanical rabbit. You go past the same scenery time after time, but you don’t see it. You see the rabbit.

He thinks it might be different if they’d had kids, but she couldn’t. They finally got tested, and that’s what the doctor said. It was her problem. A year or so after that, he bought her a dog, a Jack Russell she named Biznezz. She’d spell it for people who asked. She loves that dog, but now they argue anyway.

They’re going to Wal-Mart for grass seed. They’ve decided to sell the house—they can’t afford to keep it—but Mary says they won’t get far until they do something about the plumbing and get the lawn fixed. She says those bald patches make it look shanty Irish. It’s because of the drought. It’s been a hot summer and there’s been no rain to speak of. Ray tells her grass seed won’t grow without rain no matter how good it is. He says they should wait.

“Then another year goes by and we’re still there,” she says. “We can’t wait another year, Ray. We’ll be bankrupts.”

When she talks, Biz looks at her from his place in the back seat. Sometimes he looks at Ray when Ray talks, but not always. Mostly he looks at Mary.

“What do you think?” he says. “It’s going to rain just so you don’t have to worry about going bankrupt?”

“We’re in it together, in case you forgot,” she says. They’re driving through Castle Rock now. It’s pretty dead. What Ray calls “the economy” has disappeared from this part of Maine. The Wal-Mart is on the other side of town, near the high school where Ray is a janitor. The Wal-Mart has its own stoplight. People joke about it.

“Penny wise and pound foolish,” he says. “You ever hear that one?”

“A million times, from you.”

He grunts. He can see the dog in the rearview mirror, watching her. He sort of hates the way Biz does that. It occurs to him that neither of them knows what they are talking about.

“And pull in at the Quik-Pik,” she says. “I want to get a kickball for Tallie’s birthday.” Tallie is her brother’s little girl. Ray supposes that makes her his niece, although he’s not sure that’s right, since all the blood is on Mary’s side.

“They have balls at Wal-Mart,” Ray says. “And everything’s cheaper at Wally World.”

“The ones at Quik-Pik are purple. Purple is her favorite color. I can’t be sure there’ll be purple at Wal-Mart.”

“If there aren’t, we’ll stop at the Quik-Pik on the way back.” He feels a great weight pressing down on his head. She’ll get her way. She always does on things like this. He sometimes thinks marriage is like a football game and he’s quarterbacking the underdog team. He has to pick his spots. Make short passes.

“It’ll be on the wrong side coming back,” she says—as if they are caught in a torrent of city traffic instead of rolling through an almost deserted little town where most of the stores are for sale. “I’ll just dash in and get the ball and dash right back out.”

At two hundred pounds, Ray thinks, your dashing days are over.

“They’re only ninety-nine cents,” she says. “Don’t be such a pinchpenny.”

Don’t be so pound foolish, he thinks, but what he says is “Buy me a pack of smokes while you’re in there. I’m out.”

“If you quit, we’d have an extra forty dollars a week. Maybe more.”

He saves up and pays a friend in South Carolina to ship him a dozen cartons at a time. They’re twenty dollars a carton cheaper in South Carolina. That’s a lot of money, even in this day and age. It’s not like he doesn’t try to economize. He has told her this before and will again, but what’s the point? In one ear, out the other.

“I used to smoke two packs a day,” he says. “Now I smoke less than half a pack.” Actually, most days he smokes more. She knows it, and Ray knows she knows it. That’s marriage after a while. The weight on his head gets a little heavier. Also, he can see Biz still looking at her. He feeds the damn dog, and he makes the money that pays for the food, but it’s her he’s looking at. And Jack Russells are supposed to be smart.

He turns into the Quik-Pik.

“You ought to buy them on Indian Island if you’ve got to have them,” she says.

“They haven’t sold tax-free smokes on the rez for ten years,” he says. “I’ve told you that, too. You don’t listen.” He pulls past the gas pumps and parks beside the store. There’s no shade. The sun is directly overhead. The car’s air-conditioner only works a little. They are both sweating. In the back seat, Biz is panting. It makes him look like he’s grinning.

“Well, you ought to quit,” Mary says.

“And you ought to quit those Little Debbies,” he says. He doesn’t want to say this—he knows how sensitive she is about her weight—but out it comes. He can’t hold it back. It’s a mystery.

“I don’t eat those no more,” she says. “Any, I mean. Anymore.”

“Mary, the box is on the top shelf. A twenty-four-pack. Behind the flour.”

“Were you snooping?” A flush rises in her cheeks, and he sees how she looked when she was still beautiful. Good-looking, anyway. Everybody said she was good-looking, even his mother, who didn’t like her otherwise.

“I was hunting for the bottle opener,” he says. “I had a bottle of cream soda. The kind with the old-fashioned cap.”

“Looking for it on the top shelf of the goddam cupboard!”

“Go in and get the ball,” he says. “And get me some smokes. Be a sport.”

“Can’t you wait until we get home? Can’t you even wait that long?”

“You can get the cheap ones,” he says. “That off-brand. Premium Harmony, they’re called.” They taste like homemade shit, but all right. If she’ll only shut up about it.

“Where are you going to smoke, anyway? In the car, I suppose, so I have to breathe it.”

“I’ll open the window. I always do.”

“I’ll get the ball. Then I’ll come back. If you still feel you have to spend four dollars and fifty cents to poison your lungs, you can go in. I’ll sit with the baby.”

Ray hates it when she calls Biz the baby. He’s a dog, and he may be as bright as Mary likes to boast when they have company, but he still shits outside and licks where his balls used to be.

“Buy a few Twinkies while you’re at it,” he tells her. “Or maybe they’re having a special on Ho Hos.”

“You’re so mean,” she says. She gets out of the car and slams the door. He’s parked too close to the concrete cube of a building and she has to sidle until she’s past the trunk of the car, and he knows she knows he’s looking at her, seeing how she’s now so big she has to sidle. He knows she thinks he parked close to the building on purpose, to make her sidle, and maybe he did.

“Well, Biz, old buddy, it’s just you and me.”

Biz lies down on the back seat and closes his eyes. He may stand up on his back paws and shuffle around for a few seconds when Mary puts on a record and tells him to dance, and if she tells him (in a jolly voice) that he’s a bad boy he may go into the corner and sit facing the wall, but he still shits outside.

He sits there and she doesn’t come out. Ray opens the glove compartment. He paws through the rat’s nest of papers, looking for some cigarettes he might have forgotten, but there aren’t any. He does find a Hostess Sno Ball still in its wrapper. He pokes it. It’s as stiff as a corpse. It’s got to be a thousand years old. Maybe older. Maybe it came over on the Ark.

“Everybody has his poison,” he says. He unwraps the Sno Ball and tosses it into the back seat. “Want that, Biz?”

Biz snarks the Sno Ball in two bites. Then he sets to work licking up bits of coconut off the seat. Mary would pitch a bitch, but Mary’s not here.

Ray looks at the gas gauge and sees it’s down to half. He could turn off the motor and roll down the windows, but then he’d really bake. Sitting here in the sun, waiting for her to buy a purple plastic kickball for ninety-nine cents when he knows they could get one for seventy-nine cents at Wal-Mart. Only that one might be yellow or red. Not good enough for Tallie. Only purple for the princess.

He sits there and Mary doesn’t come back. “Christ on a pony!” he says. Cool air trickles from the vents. He thinks again about turning off the engine, saving some gas, then thinks, Fuck it. She won’t weaken and bring him the smokes, either. Not even the cheap off-brand. This he knows. He had to make that remark about the Little Debbies.

He sees a young woman in the rearview mirror. She’s jogging toward the car. She’s even heavier than Mary; great big tits shuffle back and forth under her blue smock. Biz sees her coming and starts to bark.

Ray cracks the window an inch or two.

“Are you with the blond-haired woman who just came in? She your wife?” She puffs the words. Her face shines with sweat.

“Yes. She wanted a ball for our niece.”

“Well, something’s wrong with her. She fell down. She’s unconscious. Mr. Ghosh thinks she might have had a heart attack. He called 911. You better come.”

Ray locks the car and follows her into the store. It’s cold inside. Mary is lying on the floor with her legs spread and her arms at her sides. She’s next to a wire cylinder full of kickballs. The sign over the wire cylinder says “Hot Fun in the Summertime.” Her eyes are closed. She might be sleeping there on the linoleum. Three people are standing over her. One is a dark-skinned man in khaki pants and a white shirt. A nametag on the pocket of his shirt says “mr. ghosh manager.” The other two are customers. One is a thin old man without much hair. He’s in his seventies at least. The other is a fat woman. She’s fatter than Mary. Fatter than the girl in the blue smock, too. Ray thinks by rights she’s the one who should be lying on the floor.

“Sir, are you this lady’s husband?” Mr. Ghosh asks.

“Yes,” Ray says. That doesn’t seem to be enough. “Yes, I am.”

“I am sorry to say, but I think she might be dead,” Mr. Ghosh says. “I gave the artificial respiration and the mouth-to-mouth, but . . .”

Ray thinks of the dark-skinned man putting his mouth on Mary’s. French-kissing her, sort of. Breathing down her throat right next to the wire cylinder full of plastic kickballs. Then he kneels down.

“Mary,” he says. “Mary!” Like he’s trying to wake her up after a hard night.

She doesn’t appear to be breathing, but you can’t always tell. He puts his ear by her mouth and hears nothing. He feels air on his skin, but that’s probably just the air-conditioning.

“This gentleman called 911,” the fat woman says. She’s holding a bag of Bugles.

“Mary!” Ray says. Louder this time, but he can’t quite bring himself to shout, not down on his knees with people standing around. He looks up and says, apologetically, “She never gets sick. She’s healthy as a horse.”

“You never know,” the old man says. He shakes his head.

“She just fell down,” the young woman in the blue smock says. “Not a word.”

“Did she grab her chest?” the fat woman with the Bugles asks.

“I don’t know,” the young woman says. “I guess not. Not that I saw. She just fell down.”

There’s a rack of souvenir T-shirts near the kickballs. They say things like “My Parents Were Treated Like Royalty in Castle Rock and All I Got Was This Lousy Tee-Shirt.” Mr. Ghosh takes one and says, “Would you like me to cover her face, sir?”

“God, no!” Ray says, startled. “She might only be unconscious. We’re not doctors.” Past Mr. Ghosh, he sees three kids, teen-agers, looking in the window. One has a cell phone. He’s using it to take a picture.

Mr. Ghosh follows Ray’s look and rushes at the door, flapping his hands. “You kids get out of here! You kids get out!”

Laughing, the teen-agers shuffle backward, then turn and jog past the gas pumps to the sidewalk. Beyond them, the nearly deserted downtown shimmers. A car goes by pulsing rap. To Ray, the bass sounds like Mary’s stolen heartbeat.

“Where’s the ambulance?” the old man says. “How come it’s not here yet?”

Ray kneels by his wife while the time goes by. His back hurts and his knees hurt, but if he gets up he’ll look like a spectator.

The ambulance turns out to be a Chevy Suburban painted white with orange stripes. The red jackpot lights are flashing. “castle county rescue” is printed across the front, only backward, so you can read it in your rearview mirror.

The two men who come in are dressed in white. They look like waiters. One pushes an oxygen tank on a dolly. It’s a green tank with an American-flag decal on it. “Sorry,” he says. “Just cleared a car accident over in Oxford.”

The other one sees Mary lying on the floor. “Aw, gee,” he says.

Ray can’t believe it. “Is she still alive?” he asks. “Is she just unconscious? If she is, you better give her oxygen or she’ll have brain damage.”

Mr. Ghosh shakes his head. The young woman in the blue smock starts to cry. Ray wants to ask her what she’s crying about, then knows. She has made up a whole story about him from what he just said. Why, if he came back in a week or so and played his cards right, she might toss him a mercy fuck. Not that he would, but he sees that maybe he could. If he wanted to.

Mary’s eyes don’t react to the ophthalmoscope. One E.M.T. listens to her nonexistent heartbeat, and the other takes her nonexistent blood pressure. It goes on like that for a while. The teen-agers come back with some of their friends. Other people, too. Ray guesses they’re being drawn by the flashing red lights on top of the Suburban the way bugs are drawn to a porch light. Mr. Ghosh takes another run at them, flapping his arms. They back away again. Then, when Mr. Ghosh returns to the circle around Mary and Ray, they come back.

One of the E.M.T.s says to Ray, “She was your wife?”

“Right.”

“Well, sir, I’m sorry to say that she’s dead.”

“Mary, Mother of God,” the fat lady with the Bugles says. She crosses herself.

“Oh.” Ray stands up. His knees crack. “They told me she was.”

Mr. Ghosh offers one of the E.M.T.s the souvenir T-shirt to put over Mary’s face, but the E.M.T. shakes his head and goes outside. He tells the little crowd that there’s nothing to see, as if anyone’s going to believe a dead woman on the Quik-Pik floor isn’t interesting.

The E.M.T. yanks a gurney from the back of the rescue vehicle. He does it with a single flip of the wrist. The legs fold down all by themselves. The old man with the thinning hair holds the door open and the E.M.T. pulls his rolling deathbed inside.

“Whoo, hot,” the E.M.T. says, wiping his forehead.

“You may want to turn away for this part, sir,” the other one says, but Ray watches as they lift her onto the gurney. A sheet has been tucked down at the end of it. They pull it up all the way, until it’s over her face. Now Mary looks like a corpse in a movie. They roll her out into the heat. This time, the fat woman with the Bugles holds the door for them. The crowd has retreated to the sidewalk. There must be three dozen people standing in the unrelieved August sunshine.

When Mary is stored, the E.M.T.s come back. One is holding a clipboard. He asks Ray about twenty-five questions. Ray can answer all but the one about her age. Then he remembers she’s three years younger than he is and tells them thirty-five.

“We’re going to take her to St. Stevie’s,” the E.M.T. with the clipboard says. “You can follow us if you don’t know where that is.”

“I know,” Ray says. “What? Do you want to do an autopsy? Cut her up?”

The girl in the blue smock gives a gasp. Mr. Ghosh puts his arm around her, and she puts her face against his white shirt. Ray wonders if Mr. Ghosh is fucking her. He hopes not. Not because of Mr. Ghosh’s brown skin but because he’s got to be twice her age.

“Well, that’s not our decision,” the E.M.T. says, “but probably not. She didn’t die unattended—”

“I’ll say,” the woman with the Bugles interjects.

“—and it’s pretty clearly a heart attack. You can probably have her released to the mortuary almost immediately.”

Mortuary? An hour ago they were in the car, arguing. “I don’t have a mortuary,” Ray says. “Not a mortuary, a burial plot, nothing. What the hell? She’s thirty-five.”

The two E.M.T.s exchange a look. “Mr. Burkett, there’ll be someone to help you with all that at St. Stevie’s. Don’t worry about it.”

The E.M.T. wagon pulls out with the lights still flashing but the siren off. The crowd on the sidewalk starts to break up. The countergirl, the old man, the fat woman, and Mr. Ghosh look at Ray as though he’s someone special. A celebrity.

“She wanted a purple kickball for our niece,” he says. “She’s having a birthday. She’ll be eight. Her name is Talia. Tallie for short. She was named for an actress.”

Mr. Ghosh takes a purple kickball from the wire rack and holds it out to Ray in both hands. “On the house,” he says.

“Thank you, sir,” Ray says, trying to sound equally solemn, and the woman with the Bugles bursts into tears. “Mary, Mother of God,” she says. She likes that one.

They stand around for a while, talking. Mr. Ghosh gets sodas from the cooler. These are also on the house. They drink their sodas and Ray tells them a few things about Mary. He tells them how she made a quilt that took third prize at the Castle County fair. That was in ’02. Or maybe ’03.

“That’s so sad,” the woman with the Bugles says. She has opened them and shared them around. They eat and drink.

“My wife went in her sleep,” the old man with the thinning hair says. “She just laid down on the sofa and never woke up. We were married thirty-seven years. I always expected I’d go first, but that’s not the way the good Lord wanted it. I can still see her laying there on the sofa.”

Finally, Ray runs out of things to tell them, and they run out of things to tell him. Customers are coming in again. Mr. Ghosh waits on some, and the woman in the blue smock waits on others. Then the fat woman says she really has to go. She gives Ray a kiss on the cheek before she does.

“Now you need to see to your business, Mr. Burkett,” she tells him. Her tone is both reprimanding and flirtatious.

He looks at the clock over the counter. It’s the kind with a beer advertisement on it. Almost two hours have gone by since Mary went sidling between the car and the cinder-block side of the Quik-Pik. And for the first time he thinks of Biz.

When he opens the door, heat rushes out at him, and when he puts his hand on the steering wheel to lean in he pulls it back with a cry. It’s got to be a hundred and thirty in there. Biz is dead on his back. His eyes are milky. His tongue is protruding from the side of his mouth. Ray can see the wink of his teeth. There are little bits of coconut caught in his whiskers. That shouldn’t be funny, but it is. Not funny enough to laugh at, but funny.

“Biz, old buddy,” he says. “I’m sorry. I forgot you were in here.”

Great sadness and amusement sweep over him as he looks at the baked Jack Russell. That anything so sad should be funny is just a crying shame.

“Well, you’re with her now, ain’t you?” he says, and this is so sad that he begins to cry. It’s a hard storm. While he’s crying, it comes to him that now he can smoke all he wants, and anywhere in the house. He can smoke right there at her dining-room table.

“You’re with her now, Biz,” he says again through his tears. His voice is clogged and thick. It’s a relief to sound just right for the situation. “Poor old Mary, poor old Biz. Damn it all!”

Still crying, and with the purple kickball still tucked under his arm, he goes back into the Quik-Pik. He tells Mr. Ghosh he forgot to get cigarettes. He thinks maybe Mr. Ghosh will give him a pack of Premium Harmonys on the house as well, but Mr. Ghosh’s generosity doesn’t stretch that far. Ray smokes all the way to the hospital with the windows shut and the air-conditioning on.

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runawaybill · 5 years

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Seligman, Arizona - a pARTy Stop in “Run-A-Way Bill” Favorite Route 66 “Seligman” - Sno Cap Drive-In, Roadkill Cafe, and so much more to see in this Route 66 town #RunAwayBill #DUSA2019 #rabQuirky #QuirkyUSA #KeepUSAweird #rabKeepUSAweird #Route66 #Route66RunAwayBill #HistoricRoute66 #USroute66 #MotherRoad #MainStreetOfAmerica #route66classic #rab66Route66_2019 #rabRoute66 #Bars #rabBarsUSA #BarsUSA #BAR_RAB #BarsRAB2019 #rabBARSofArizona 07.10.19 (at Historic Route 66) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bzv7dNYlkb2/?igshid=1d1kdfvd5rn4r

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

Text

A Lot of People Hate Sno-Caps. Those People Are Wrong. added to Google Docs

A Lot of People Hate Sno-Caps. Those People Are Wrong.

Photo by Whitney Hayward/Portland Portland Press Herald via Getty Images; logo by Goldsuit

These nonpareils hit the movie theater candy trifecta: they’re nostalgic, they’re delicious, and they taste great when you dump the box inside your bag of popcorn

If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that you should never take anything for granted. I know that’s such a cliche, but 2020 has been one hell of an eye-opener in that I miss doing things in general (road tripping, going to restaurants, and browsing for new books at my local library). But what I miss most is sitting in a dark movie theater with a big bag of popcorn and a box of candy.

I streamed a number of this year’s new releases from the comfort of my own couch (cannot recommend First Cow enough), though I found that the experience unfulfilling. Part of the magic of being at the movies is sitting in a packed auditorium, juggling concessions while you wait for the lights to dim and the previews to begin. While I don’t see myself going to the movies anytime soon, I can certainly enjoy a piece of it at home. Enter: Sno-Caps.

I’ll admit it. I am obsessed with Sno-Caps — not just as movie theater candy but as regular-degular life candy. If I happen upon them in the wild (rare), I stock up on as many boxes as I can, because nothing brings me greater joy than a handful of mini mountains of sprinkle-coated chocolate. I understand there is a great divide between people who love Sno-Caps and people who absolutely hate them. The latter argue that the movie theater concession tastes like “mud coated in sand,” but I think that’s a serious over-exaggeration, as they only slightly taste like mud and sand. So I’m going all in on defending their honor: Sno-Caps are the absolute best movie theater candy.

Let’s talk about your typical concession counter selection, shall we? Starting with the star of our show here:

Sno-Caps

From the moment I had my first box of Sno-Caps, I’ve been a fan of nonpareils. And despite the loud internet hate, I’m clearly not the only one, because Nestlé’s semi-sweet chocolate nonpareils have been a concession-stand staple since the 1920s. Sno-Caps are the only option that meets the movie theater candy trifecta, getting points for nostalgia (aka a reliable association with the movie-theater experience, always stocked in that Icee-and-popcorn-grease-covered glass case), taste (throw a couple on your tongue and what follows is magic: melted chocolate with a satisfying crunch), and popcorn pairing (never buttered, because gross). Dumping the majority of the box in your popcorn creates a marriage of sweet and salty that always hits the spot. You can’t get a combination like this anywhere else, and soda from a fountain (I prefer Coke) washes it all down before you do it all again. I’m sorry, but no other movie theater candy holds a candle to the versatility of Sno-Caps.

M&M’s

M&M’s taste great and pair well with popcorn, but Sno-Caps are clearly superior because semi-sweet chocolate is easier to enjoy with popcorn and a soda than milk chocolate. Also, M&M’s are more widely available than Sno-Caps, so they lack that special movie theater connotation. You can grab a bag at the supermarket or on a Target run. Where’s the fun in that?

Buncha Crunch

Introduced in the early ’90s, Nestle’s Buncha Crunch doesn’t have the same nostalgic appeal as most movie theater candies, but bite-sized milk chocolate mixed with crisped rice is an excellent combination. However, when you dump a whole box into a bag of popcorn, it can be overwhelming. Too much crunch!

Reese’s Pieces

I’m committed to the cups — Reese’s mini peanut butter cups, to be exact (they’re better) — but I appreciate Reese’s Pieces from a design perspective. Hershey’s introduced this candy in the late ’70s, as its packaging continues to reflect. In terms of taste, you can’t go wrong with peanut butter and chocolate, but getting a box of Reese’s Pieces means denying myself popcorn — on their own, they’re already too rich.

Raisinets

From the gloriously greasy cheesesteak to righteous hooligan Gritty, Philadelphia is home to some truly great things. It’s also where Raisinets were born: The chocolate-covered raisins were introduced by the Blumenthal Brothers Chocolate Company in 1927. They’re great, and moviegoers have been known to mix them with popcorn, but I think it’s safe to say that our palates have evolved and we now know better than to mix raisins — again, RAISINS — with popcorn. The beauty of this candy is that it’s strong enough to stand on its own. I prefer something that can work well with others.

Whoppers

You’re better off getting a milkshake after the movie, because that’s where malt belongs. Also, have you washed down Whoppers with a Coke or Icee? It’s… not great.

Milk Duds

Milk Duds are infuriating and a dental nightmare. You need time and patience to consume these chocolate-covered caramel lumps because you have to gnaw and chew and gnaw and chew and despite your best efforts, they stick in your teeth. How can I be expected to chew and digest something that gets wedged in the corners of the box?!

Junior Mints

Candy that freshens your breath while you eat it should not count as candy, but I get the nostalgic appeal. Junior Mints have been around since 1949, and they played an integral role in an episode of Seinfeld. I just don’t think peppermint belongs in a movie theater.

Goobers

Peanut butter > peanuts. Just get the Reese’s Pieces.

Skittles

The superior fruit candy. Skittles taste terrible eaten alongside popcorn, but a pro tip for non-movie settings: throw a couple on your tongue and you’ve got yourself a fruit-flavored candy smoothie, or bite down on ’em, wash it all down with Sprite, and you’ll be in heaven.

Starburst

Starburst comes in a close second to Skittles. In fact, they’re basically the same candy. The only downside to Starburst is that each piece is individually wrapped, and that’s more work — and noisy work, at that — than I care to commit to at the movies.

Welch’s Fruit Snacks

I like to think of Welch’s fruit snacks as Raisinets’ cousin. They taste great, like actual fruit, but mix a bag of gummies with popcorn and you have some seriously questionable texture going on there.

Haribo Gummy Bears/Sour Patch Kids/Swedish Fish

See above.

Mike and Ike

I imagine Sunkist Fruit Gems are made like chocolate chip cookies — with a cookie cutter — and these capsule-shaped bites are the extra bits. However, unlike the tender Fruit Gems, Mike and Ikes taste like they’ve been sitting in a hospital vending machine for who knows how long.

Good & Plenty

Multiply Mike and Ike by a factor of “licorice” and it’s suddenly worse.

Lemonheads

Hard candy? At the movies? Absolutely fucking not.

Red Vines

Yes, hi. Would you care for some congealed cough syrup?

Twizzlers

Only slightly better than Red Vines. Twizzlers are a great substitute for straws, especially with a Cherry Coke, but that’s about it.

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Bites

The worst of the movie theater concessions. The thought of chowing down on cookie dough in a movie theater is simply too much. I can’t believe this was ever a trend.

via Eater - All https://www.eater.com/21438302/movie-theater-candy-ranking-sno-caps-are-the-best

Created September 16, 2020 at 11:26PM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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