#yeah no like literally teddy roosevelt

[kanyniablue]

haha i used too many tags on that last post

#tropes #anyways as i wrote out: #you know the classic mystery plotline chapter by chapter #set up unusual crime. introduce detective(s) including their gimmick. the true culprit has to be among the first wave of characters. #establish semi obvious explanation. threaten detective. plot twist--different explanation. #shocking reveal. obvious villain was red herring; true culprit is nearby & reveals their motive. detective lays out info. #villain gets ironic comeuppance. denouement. fin #this series went the 'gimmicky amateur detective + hardnose cop with actual legal authority' route #offbrand phryne & jack #not that it mattered since none of the ironic comeuppances meant legal consequences #which really just emphasizes the 'police beating confessions out of people is ok if its for a good reason (:' thinking #the historical setting in the first book took a little bit of care about establishing historic norms and what life was like #the rest were basically 'horses and gaslamps. did you know the cops used to beat people? crazy! CONFESS.' #teddy roosevelt showed up at a few points as one of the MCs' friends #you're supposed to think the MCs are really cool and special but they just...aren't #you know when an author WANTS you to feel a certain way but shows you the puppet strings too much? #this was constant #it dawned on me that it wasnt going to get better & sometimes a series makes money bc it comes out every year. #yeah no like literally teddy roosevelt

[kingocringeracc]

Howdy. I'm racc, I'm posting this one for new people coming in from @fuzybby so yall don't just come in to trent reznor with a Dino, and game of thrones fanart. Anyway, this is all heavily inspired by max brooks and his world war z novel.

Thanks for reading, see ya.

Jacob Sterling.

Synopsis, uhhhh, an interview.

November 25, 2023

Yonkers, New York

After a pleasant dinner with the Sterling family, I’m met by the father of the home, Jacob Sterling, and Sean Gray, the men I would be interviewing, even though Jacob would be speaking for most of the interview.

“So, Jacob, you were put in prison when the US government fled past the Rockies correct?”

“I was, this was back before they had found out a way to keep criminals from being criminals, public shaming, you know, the signs they'd put around people's necks saying what they did?”

“But I was caught trying to steal from my neighbor, and I was put in a jail cell with a man we all called Bubba.”

“Now, I'm a pretty tall dude, I'm 6’0, but Bubba? Jesus Christ, he was tall, I think one of the guards measured him to be about 6’8? 6’7?”

“But anyway, Bubba was tall, but he was cornfed too, straight off a ranch in Amarillo. I'm sure if he wanted to, and with a good right hook, a Zeds head would explode, he might not have been Iron Mike, but he hit hard.”

“I dont know why Bubba got put in there, but I dont think he did anything, he was a kind, Bubbae person, that always gave people more chances than he should've, and was more than happy to help if you needed it.”

“now on to the actual substance of my experience in the war. One day, me and bubba were in the cell, doing whatever the hell we did to pass the time. When a few officers came in and asked us to put a bag over our heads, or they'd do it themselves, me and bubba where smart enough to go along with what the hell was going on, even though we had zero clue if we were about the be put to death or not. And we were put in some type of vehicle, and driven out to some air force base I can't remember the name of.”

Jacob pinches the bridge of his nose, seemingly trying to remember some of the details.

“We met this agent of some sort, I dont remember if he told us his name or not, but he told us we were to be trained on how to jump from a plane and survive. Me and Bubba dont know why, but we figure it's better than being in a cell.”

“So for the next three weeks, we take a basic airborne course, learning how to be a paratrooper, all the while we haven't been filled in on why we’re being given this course, all we know is that we’re doing it, when finally, were put into a big ol plane going across the continent, only landing once in the gulf of Mexico, where there was the USS teddy roosevelt, where we refueled, and on our flight, we where finally told our destination, and why we where trained.”

Jacob then decides to do an impression of the officer, which gets a laugh out of both me and sean.

“you have been chosen to be put in the city of yonkers to find and kill, any, and every, single zombie that you can get you hands-on, this will help the united states, eventually, retake the east coast. If you can even kill 5 of those things, it will help us.”

After his joke, he continues his story.

“We’re given a pack, we open it up, find a week of food, water, a cyanide pill, a knife, and a journal. And told to get ready to drop”

“The freefall was something I'd like to experience again, it was like floating at a point. But as were falling we spotted a few stores that would be essential for our survival, and a house, but I saw a construction site, so I decided to land there. I land at the site, I dont see any zeds, so I see Bubba’s parachute landing just a few across from me, and he comes over to me, and asks what to do next.”

“We decide to go to the house that we spotted in the sky, Bubba literally says, “This knife is too small”, manages to find a sledgehammer, and decides, yeah! That'll be my weapon!”

“Yonkers was surprisingly not full of zeds when we dropped, but there were still a few wanderers, and I got to witness the strength of a 300-pound titan of a man, with the extension of a metal hammerhead. More than enough zeds were on the floor, and this is with Bubba using the sledgehammer as a one-handed weapon, not as a two-handed weapon, which is how normal people would use it.”

“We find the house, figure out it's a two-story, and decide to scout it out, Bubba finds one of those “in a fire, rescue the animals! Sign” with the only name “ruby” on it, and we enter through the door after I manage to pick the lock. We find signs of a very clear animal lover, there are animal signs all over the place, and pictures of a man with a dog, who must've been ruby. The dude in the picture had one of the best-grown beards in the world, pure black hair, and the most charming smile I've ever seen. Ruby seemed to have the same coat of hair as him, except curly, he must've been some kind of poodle mix from what we saw. And had an even better smile.”

“I’m pretty sure that was the first time I saw Bubba cry, looking at that picture. But we continue to investigate the house, making sure the locks work, checking windows, and looking for any type of non-perishable food. We find a few cans, but we find an entire stockpile of dog food in the backyard shed. We decide that enough searching around for the night, and we’ll look at gas stations, look for more supplies, come the next day.”

“We actually got a good night's sleep, after blocking off the stairwell, and getting our separate rooms with good beds. It's actually a little strange how many rooms there were being that the only evidence of the house owner was the dude with the great beard and his dog. But come next morning, we stop by a gas station, get all the canned foods, bring them back to the house, drop them off, then go to a grocery store, all the while clearing out the zeds we see, we get more canned food, and for whatever reason bubba decided to get some canned dog food.”

“we go back to the house, drop off the food, then I see one of the best cars I've ever seen, which I'm sure you saw in the garage.”

Jacob winks at me, and its true, its a very impressive car, a 1969 Camaro, kept in almost perfect condition.

“and wanna know what's even better? It wasn't locked, and the keys were in the glove box, whoever decided to leave that girl behind clearly didn't want to take care of it, so, that made me the owner, and the caretaker of it. Bubba didn't really get it, his thing was music and collecting CDs, and records. We decided to go to the fire station, maybe they'd have some clothes we could wear, that'd be thicker, be better than what we had if we got into close quarters with the Zeds, Bubba thought it was a good idea, so we get in the Camaro, which had gas, luckily, and drive on down to the fire station.”

“bubba asked to me to go to a music store soon because there weren't any CDs in the glove box, nor was there a CD book. I agree, music is good, but I think Bubba would have badgered me and gone on a rant about how music was the greatest thing to ever happen, and how music was the very essence of humanity. I came to find out that he was right”

“We arrive at the fire station and sneak in, I tell Bubba that it is probably not a good idea to bring the sledgehammer, but he ignored me, didnt wanna use a knife, “too fragile, too small”, he would say. So we get into the station, and go to the locker rooms, maybe they'd have uniforms there. Turns out they did, and apparently there was one of Bubba’s cousins in Yonkers before the war because they had one that fit him, I also found a crowbar, a useful tool, for literally everything. We decide that we've done enough for today, and go home”

“The next months went without a hitch, doing more cleanouts, and getting Bubba his music, going further and further away from our base each time. But one day we come home to something rummaging around in our backyard, we see this black dog, with curls, it must have been ruby, I grab a rifle we had found a month back, but Bubba screams at me to “Put that damn thing down!” it was the first time I heard bubba shout like I said, gentle giant. But he goes into the house, all the while Ruby is growling and barking at me, when Bubba comes out from behind me with the canned dog food, and opens it.”

“To my absolute bewilderment, Bubba puts the food down in front of ruby, and it begins to eat, bubba circles it, trying to examine it, and he comes back to me and says “it's starving to death, and its almost winter, let it come inside, we have power, and firewood to keep the house warm. Ill be damned if I let it die out here when we have the power to help.” so, I couldn't really say no, especially when I thought the same, so I leave the door open, and that's how ruby started hanging out with us, and became our best friend.”

“Fast forward a few years, we've got a routine nailed down, the town is all secure, when we decide to go into a more densely populated area, and we find this fellow over here, who managed to survive out all on his own, because his parents where survivalist, and decided not to go with the government because they thought the government where all nazi’s.”

Jacob points to Sean, where Sean gives a small smile and a wave, before adding to Jacob's story.

“I had been living by myself for the past 4 years, my parents died after the first week of us coming out and investigating, but I remained for the next 4 years, and had essentially lost the will to live, so, out of sheer recklessness, I went out on a limb and decided, id much rather die by someone else's hand, than my own, or succumb to the dead. And I ended up meeting Bubba, Ruby, and Jacob.”

Sean gestures to Jacob to continue his story, Jacob does, but busts out a bottle of alcohol, he hands it to Sean, and Sean seemingly understands and leaves the room and returns with glasses, he pours one for all of us, and I sip at mine, while they both slam theirs back.

“Another 3 years pass, and we'd been out here for about 7 years at this point when one day I see Bubba looking at Ruby with a sad look in his eye. He looks at me and tells me to get Sean, he sits us all down and tells us that Ruby isn't getting any older, and she's gonna start to hurt a lot, and we gotta think ahead. Sean isn't having it, to be fair, neither am I, but Bubba had every single reason to be right, every single living thing died someday, despite what was going on in the world at that time. So Bubba goes to the veterinarian's office, turns out he was a veterinarian in Amarillo besides his farm work, he knew how to take care of animals, and he knew how to do it properly, that must have been why he was such an animal whisperer, he befriended a murder of crows during those years as well, every few weeks or so they come back, none of them are the original crow's bubba fed and befriended, but crows are smart critters, and they can pass down which humans are friendly or not. But where was I? Ah, right, Bubba going to the veterinarian's office. He makes sure he has the stuff to make a chemical called pentobarbital, it's the stuff they use to put down your dog, he explained it all to use both, it was a seizure medicine, that caused the animal to go unconscious, and it would stop brain function, and it would stop the heart, within 2 minutes.”

Sean is starting to cry silently on my right, his hands formed into a fist pressed against his mouth. Jacob pours another drink, and slams it back, pouring another for sean.

“when the day finally came, bubba was ready, he had ruby in the car within seconds, and we where at the veterinarian's office within 2 minutes, speed limit didn't matter, i found the whole speedometer, and this was time to use the whole speedometer. Bubba made a batch of the chemical we needed a few days before, some kind of sixth sense he had. But he inserted the IV into Ruby’s leg, and we all hugged parts of her, bubba looked her in the eyes as she closed them. He said it was what he did with all the farm animals he had to put down. It was his code of honor or something like that, I never saw him kill a human, and he never really looked the Zeds in the eye.”

Jacob sips at his glass and takes a shaky breath.

“We buried her in the backyard”

“That wasn't the worst to happen though.”

“A few months later, some freak storm came in, and Bubba went outside to make sure the generator was working when we heard his scream, a zed had snuck up behind him in the storm and must brought about 400 of his buddies with him, I see him stomping the skull of the zed in, I see the bite on his leg, I see the group of zeds behind the fence, bubba runs inside, he gets a first aid kit. Calmly wrapped the wound around his leg, got dressed in his firefighter uniform, and gave me his journal, and I will never forget the words he told me, he said to me and sean after Sean came out of his trance that he was in because of the bite. “If I pass out, have the strength to end me, you have been the greatest blessing to me, the both of you, but ill fend all of them off, it will be the last thing I do, and I will then go rest with ruby.” so, as the storm raged on, it must've been right on top of us, the thunder and lightning were going a mile a minute, but as I watched bubba smash the skull of every single zed out there, with the exact same sledgehammer that he picked up the first day we got to yonkers. I think every single strike from his hammer was somehow perfectly synchronized with the thunderstrikes. And when the rain cleared, Bubba was the only living being that remained. And we were just now coming down with a fever. He used to joke about how he drank from a lake where there were tons of brain-eating amoebas, and he starved the thing to death. I'm half convinced he was right now, because was still standing when normal people would have already slipped into a coma, he had been fighting for at least 7 or so hours. He looks at me and hands me his hammer, tells me it's time, and so I go and get a towel lay it underneath his head, and wind up the hammer, and in a single stroke, I smash his brain in one blow, merciful and quick. I wrap the towel around his head and cradle his head in my arms, Sean joins me. Me and Sean had a silent ride to the casket store, if that's what you'd call it, and hauled it back to the house.”

“It takes me about 5 hours to dig his grave, Sean puts his body in the casket, and makes a wooden grave.”

we manage to not drop his grave, and we bury him.”

“Another year passes, and the army finally arrives, a year too late. But they arrive nonetheless, I meet the missus from the army, we settle down, and start this little family. 2 years later, the final zed in China gets crushed under my heel.”

Jacob and Sean get up and ask if I want to pay my respects, I follow them, and put a guitar pick on a grave.

It reads.

Here lies Bubba

Dearest friend

The man who made me realize music was the soul of humanity.

The second grave reads

Ruby

#zombies #world war z #max brooks

[dykesbites]

ok im gonna focus my anger on to something else. anyways i rewatched night at the museum with my mom and it reminded me of how great the original one was and how god awful the sequel was. like yeah there were some iffy things in the first movie (larry going "civil war guys stop fighting slavery is bad" and they immediately stop fighting and agree with him + the romans and the cowboy miniatures allowed to roam free while the maya are locked up + avid bison hunter teddy roosevelt dating sacagawea + despite their incredibly rich history there's zero black people present etc) but overall the film itself was fun and had a plotline that made sense. it was cheesy and kind of obvious but its a kids movie. then the sequel happened.

ohh my god this movie was so so so bad. like racist/misogynistic bad but also narratively unsatisfying. the worst crime to me was that they literally removed almost all of the old iconic characters from the first film? teddy only shows up in the beginning and the end, ahkmenrah is completely irrelevant, scagawea and attila are locked up most of the time, jed is stuck in the hourglass...none of them have any importance to the actual action despite being THE reason that larry returns to the museum!!

oh and larry totally ditches his son like nick gives him a bunch of information then he loses service on his phone and then...never attempts to contact him again. this poor kid is probably worried sick that his father is being killed by lions or sabretooth tigers.

second worst thing to do with characters: literally all of the new characters were so so incredibly boring, and also didn't have like. a theme around them? it just felt so messy and thrown together, lacking the cohesion that everyone at the natural history museum had. none of the villains have much in common with each other either... and like im not a history expert but i find it very hard to imagine that al capone would work with royalty like come on. oh and kahmunrah was so boring, no real motivations at all. also whyyy is there an octopus.

actually i lied this is probably a worse crime. the mischaracterization of historical figures. i feel like im watching fucking hamilton here! im sorry but napoleon would not give a shit about larry and amelia's potential relationship and that joke wasn't even that funny anyway. WHY DID ABRAHAM LINCOLN ACT LIKE THAT (he was much more tolerable when he came back to the rescue but he was so awful when we met him). the einsteins were annoying. i could go on and on brother

ok moving away from bad writing to address the stuff that's just morally messed up. um. everything about general custer oh my fucking god. i will never forgive them for making sacagawea put up with his stupid ass. he is quite literally most famous for the fact that he tried to kill indigenous people. yeah it wasn't in sacagawea's lifetime but i find it hard to believe that things would just be totally chill between them. not to mention the fact that custer literally contributed nothing, he has an entire moment where larry coddles him for being a failure, then goes into the fight, immediately gets knocked out, and then tries to act like he led the battle. classic white man behavior.

and again, massive lack of black history. there's a moment of solidarity with amelia and the tuskeegee which was nice! genuinely sweet moment. but despite yknow being the race that has existed longer than any other. the tuskeegee are the only black people we see.

and of course the elephant in the room, the obnoxious focus on romance throughout the entirety of the film. the cherubs were super annoying. the thinker showing off his muscles to some random nymph statue or whatever. very weird. and the constant never ending awkward flirting between amelia and larry. like amelia is supposed to be a trailblazer for being a woman doing something impressive that was considered a man's job! so why are you reducing her to a pretty girl who punches people sometimes but mostly just kisses the protagonist even when he says he's not interested!! part of what made the og movie so good was that there were women in the story but none of them were romantically involved with him at all. even rebecca, who seemed like she was set up to be a love interest, was just a good friend of larry's. they were independent women with agency (aside from sacagawea but she shares that lack of agency with the other museum displays) and their own wants needs etc. and of course they had to add in the weirdness of having larry repeatedly say he's not interested in amelia (which makes sense, it would feel out of character for him to immediately be into it) and then have amelia kiss him anyways. really gross. oh and they cast amy adams to play amelia which. nothing against amy adams she's a brilliant actress but not the one for this role. google amelia earhart she's a pretty masculine/rougher woman. not the femme fatale in the movie.

ok i don't have a real conclusion here just my thoughts all dumped. if you read all of this o7 i salute you. feel free to comment/rb with your thoughts btw!

[missbaphomet]

What would your reaction be to a pilot program confining male comedians to safe asylums until they prove they are safe to interact with women and kids? Ideally they would be able to perform under guard and psychiatric supervision, and after a period of years a panel of social workers, doctors and women from the community would assess their compatibility with society at large.

I think you and anyone who thinks something like this is ok are fucking insane <3

Like seriously what the actual fuck. I'm fucking speechless. Not only is this a violation of privacy and several human rights, but this leads to an extremely slippery slope that could be used against people with disabilities as a bludgeon to weed them from the public. If it can be done because of a profession, it can also be done to the disabled, the mentally ill, the LGBT, people who are racial minorities, political dissenters, and literally anyone else.

Further more, what's the part you take issue with? The "male" part, or the "comedian" part? I'm willing to put good money that it's the former. Newsflash, women can be predators too.

Let's not forget the male comedians who have been involved in children's media or own or support charities for children or other issues like homelessness or illness:

Robin Williams - Batty in Fern Gully, Genie in Aladdin, Teddy Roosevelt in Night At The Museum, Peter Pan in Hook, Mrs. Doubtfire in Mrs. Doubtfire, Fender in Robots, Lovelace and Ramon in Happy Feet, Alan Parrish in Jumanji, and don't even get me started on his dramatic roles such as Good Will Hunting, Good Morning Vietnam, Dead Poet's Society, etc.

The Electric Company - a cast of comedians working to boost children's literacy, including Bill Cosby (who later was revealed as a predator, but not towards children) and a then unknown Morgan Freeman

Comic Relief (BBC) - A charity telethon for children hosting many comedians

Comic Relief USA - A charity to fight homelessness in the US, also hosting comedians for events

Bob Saget - founder of Scleroderma Research Foundation after his sister died from the diesease

Jerry Seinfeld - founded and supports charities

Eddie Murphy - Donkey in Shrek and known participant in Feeding America and the Yeah! Foundation

Seth Rogen - leader of Hilarity for Charity, which supports Alzheimer's Reasearch

Ken Jeong - Recipiant of the Visionary Award and donated $50,000 after the Atlanta spa shooting

Jeff Foxworthy - works to fight homelessness in the Atlanta area and won the 2018 humanitarian award from the rotary club of buckhead. Also supports wildlife and wild space preservation

Ricky Gervais - Leader of Red Nose Day in the UK (read: Comic Relief)

Owen Wilson - coastal preservation, AIDS research, arts education, raised money for Elephant Families and Space for Giants

Tyler Perry - The Perry Foundation

Dwayne Johnson - The Rock Johnson Foundation among several other charities

Will Ferrell - UNICEF, Cancer for College, AIDS charities, charities for childhood diabetes

Jimmy Kimmel - ALS Drives, Feast of San Gennaro

Kevin Bacon - SixDegrees.com and their works

And so many fucking more but I trust my point is made

#baph bleats #asks #reader beware: misandry

[geekeryisafoot]

I listened to a few episode of the Land Whale Murders before deciding I wasn't jiving with the humor, and the final nail in the coffin was the handful of jokes where a bigotted character is the butt of the joke for doing something bigotted. Like the type of humor where a character says something prejudiced and then immediately walks into and smacks their head on a doorframe. Sure this type of joke is saying [insert prejudice here] is bad, but that's such a milquetoast position to take, and these jokes are mostly just an annoying reminder that these prejudices exist in real life and you can't even escape them in a fictional comedy

But I realized I love the Vanishing Act, which frequently features a similar type of bigots are fucking stupid humor. Why do I find it funny in The Vanishing Act but an unwelcome annoyance in The Land Whale Murders? What do you need in order to make this type of humor work?

(I don't have any conclusions, this is just me spitballing and putting my tentative thoughts and possibilities into words)

Is it the scale of the stupid? The nazi's in tva are so, so, so stupid. They believe obvious lies. They miss what is going on right in front of their faces. One of them wholeheartedly believes that a popup book gave him a secret message to find Atlantis and he's determined to use a time travel machine to get there. Which is so unexpected and such an unbelievably stupid plan anyway that it's funny. The bigots in tlwm (of the two episodes I listened to) express beliefs that are only a notch or two above real life bigoted views, and given how ridiculous every other single character is, this doesn't feel like the full strength condemnation it's supposed to be

In tva the bigots are irredeemably evil, even when they're funny and humanized. Sure this nazi general is just a stupid frat boy who doesn't actually care about all this nazi stuff all that much and is coasting through life on family connections, but the narrative reinforces that he's still a piece of shit who ruins people's lives. Yes, he's laughably pathetic AND yes, he's evil and a legitimate and frightening threat to the main characters. In tlwm, Police Commissioner Teddy Roosevelt is a bumbling oaf who is in a friendly fight club with the city's squirrel population. Oh and also he's antisemitic

Is it the expectation of it? Tva takes place in 1930's Berlin. You knew, from the very first line of the summary, from the very first line of the very first trailer, that anti-semitism would come up. The threat of it looms over every second of the show, even when there aren't currently any direct references to it. Tlwm takes place in an alternate (possibly fantasy and/or steampunk) 1890's New York. It's always a toss up whether alternate/fantasy historic fiction will include historical prejudices, or to what extend it will include them. The trailers reference prejudices, but there isn't the instant assumption of it like in tva

In tlwm the minority/discriminated against characters parrot the prejudices. One of the characters literally introduces herself with the dismissive nickname her coworkers give her. Which is a detail that becomes worse and worse the more I think about it

tlwm has the dreaded "not all [insert minority here] know each other! ... *sigh* Yeah I do know [name]," and the equally dreaded "Do you not trust me with responsibility because I'm a woman? Oh, it's actually because of [valid reason]? Yeah okay I get that." The presence of those two jokes doesn't inspire confidence that the prejudices will be handled well throughout the rest of the show

tlwm the jokes about the police don't land for me because they're basically "haha we've acknowledged that police suck and police brutality exists, how unexpected!" and then they don't say anything deeper than that. Plus we have a sympathetic character who wants to be a police officer, which makes the narrative feel like it's talking out of both sides of its mouth (disclaimer I only listened to a few episodes so this might be set up for this character's arc and realizing the job ain't worth shit)

#the vanishing act #the land whale murders #tbh I hesitate to tag these cause I don't particularly want the creators to see this but I do want to have this conversation with #other listeners should it be a topic they have further insight into or thoughts on #so sorry creators this is what you get for existing within fan spaces #mineminemine

[hotchley]

hotchner’s hoodie

What’s up, I’m Sumayyah, I’ve been on CM tumblr for just over a year and I never cross-posted my first four fics until now, which is only because I changed my url, and now my laptop is going to die in 11 minutes so..

This is for @themetaphorgirl‘s PSOLC verse. You should read it. This is no longer compliant with that canon, but you know what, it is fine! I am literally doing this for the sake for a masterlist <3

Trigger Warnings: child abuse

read on ao3!

Aaron Hotchner was completely fine. He was not freaking out, he was not stressed and he most certainly was not about to burst into tears. He was a cool, calm and collected seventeen year old that was responsible, wise beyond his years and more mature than Alex Miller and James Blake put together. 

Okay maybe he wasn’t the last one, but he was still a responsible teenager. He was not a child. He would not start crying over stupid, insignificant events.

But he could not find his hoodie. On any other day, not knowing the location of his hoodie would be greeted with a shrug, and the general acceptance that it would turn up somewhere. One of the younger kids- most likely Spencer- would have taken it because they were cold and had forgotten to put in the laundry. And that was fine. It had been fine since he’d met them and realised they needed at least one responsible person in their lives, if only to keep them alive. 

But this wasn’t any other day, and as childish as it made him feel, he just really wanted to feel the soft and warm material of the hoodie against his bare arms. He wanted the familiar smell of the floral laundry detergent Lincoln House had ended up with when Penelope had worn the hoodie as soon as it came out of the wash and declared that they needed a new one. He wanted the one small piece of home that had not been tainted by memories of pain, tears and fear to remind himself why he went back there.

He would never tell the others, but the hoodie hadn’t been his choice. It had been Sean’s. They had gone together with his mother’s credit card- his father would never let him near his money- to buy him some extra clothes before he left for school. He’d spent the entire time worrying about what they would come home to and had been too stressed on making sure Sean was never out of his sight to properly look at what he was buying, just putting things that weren’t tacky or expensive in the basket and hoping for the best.

But then Sean had rubbed the front of the hoodie he was still searching for- he had could have sworn he left it in the bed drawer- and started laughing. Told him that it was so soft and nice and cuddly and warm that he had to buy it. And when he had hesitated, not sure whether buying something like that would land him in trouble, Sean had gasped. Said it was blue, just like his eyes and because he wouldn’t take a teddy to remind him of home, this could be the same thing.

He’d been unable to say no, so he’d gotten it, hidden it amongst the various textbooks and notebooks, and never taken it home. His father still didn’t know about the little indulgence. His mother did. She’d been so worried about him, but he’d been determined to take one good thing to the school with him.

So yes, he had never told anyone else why he was so attached to an old hoodie, but it was because he didn’t want them to know the truth. He didn’t want them to ask why he’d never said anything to the school, why he’d never trusted them enough to tell them, or the question that kept him laying awake at night: why had he left his mom and little brother in that house with that man?

His hands were starting to shake as he reached the bottom of the drawer with no sign of the hoodie and he reminded himself to breathe. It was just a hoodie, it wasn’t anything special. And if his father could see him… 

He didn’t want to think about that. Not when he had just been home for the weekend because his mother had told him about how Sean had been so brave when he had been getting his vaccines because he wanted to be like his big brother superhero and not ask for help. Most people would’ve found it endearing.

Hotch found it sickening. He’d never wanted Sean to be like him: a seventeen-year-old too afraid of rejection to ask for anything.

He pushed the thoughts of his father from his mind. He couldn’t find his hoodie anywhere in his room, which meant one of the kids had to have it. Lessons were finished, the library was closed, but there was still a decent amount of time before dinner, which meant that they would probably all be in the Lincoln House common room.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and went down. He could hear them all laughing about something from the hallway and smiled. They were an odd group, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he would be there had he not been the RA for his floor, but he loved them. And he never wanted to stop hearing that laughter.

Which was why it made sense that it stopped as soon as he walked in. Everyone was sat in their usual seat: Alex and James were snuggled up on one of the sofas with Spencer in her lap, Emily was laying next to them, doing something on her phone. JJ and Penelope were sat on the floor, Derek crouching behind them and Dave was watching them all fondly from the armchair.

“Hey guys,” he said, even though they were all aware of his presence. “I was just wondering if anyone had seen my hoodie.”

They all looked at each other, the younger kids sheepish, the older ones smirking. He fought back the urge to let the tears spill and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was meant to be the responsible one.

“Look if one of you kids was wearing it and got jelly or mud or whatever it was on there I won’t be mad just tell me so I can put it in the wash,” he said, trying to keep his tone as gentle as possible so he didn’t scare the younger kids.

Derek snickered.

He sighed. “If it was used to put out a kitchen fire, I will also not be mad.”

Emily looked like she was two seconds away from dying of repressed laughter.

“And if you put Spencer in it and then dragged him round because he didn’t want to move and then somehow got water all over it, I won’t shout.”

JJ and Penelope gave each other identical smiles.

“If you decorated it with football and unicorn stickers because you thought it needed a bit of brightening up, that is fine but can you please, please just tell me where it is?” he repeated, his tone turning pleading at the end.

Both Alex and James gave him a concerned look, probably wondering why he was getting so worked up, but neither said anything as he schooled his features back into neutrality.

“Oh go on, put him out of his misery,” Dave said.

Hotch breathed a sigh of relief. He would get his hoodie back and everything would be fine. He would be fine.

“Hey Aaron. You left it at Roosevelt when you came to practice and then I forgot to give it back earlier. I promise I kept it safe, I know how much it means to all of you over here,” a very beautiful female voice said.

Hotch felt his heart stop and he squeezed his eyes shut. No. This was not happening to him. Haley Brooks was not sat there, laughing with his friends when he wasn’t there. She had not heard him go over all the various trials and tribulations his hoodie had suffered through. She had not just told everyone that when he had said he needed to speak to Gideon, he’d been lying because he’d gone to meet her and practice so he didn’t look like an idiot. And she most definitely was not stood in front of him, wearing it.

“Aaron?” 

“I- yes. Erm, thank you. That was- that’s- it’s really, really nice on you,” he stuttered, already aware that his cheeks were completely red.

“On you?” she repeated with that angelic smile. 

Oh god, had he really said that?

“Of you. It’s really nice of you to bring it over here. And you, umm, you look really pretty wearing it. Not that you don’t look pretty when you don’t wear it, you do, and I never say anything but-“

She rubbed his arm. His bare arm. “It’s fine, Aaron. I know what you meant. And it wasn’t that much effort to walk over here. Besides, I got to see Penelope and meet the rest of your family. They’re all amazing by the way.”

He stopped staring at her eyes and started staring at his arm, willing the goose bumps to go down. “Well thank you anyways. And they are, aren’t they?”

He could’ve punched the air. He got a whole sentence out without stuttering once.

“So you seemed pretty desperate to get it back,” she said, starting to take it off. The t-shirt she wore underneath had some musical reference on it, he didn’t know what one but he swallowed as he tried to keep his eyes on her face, not any lower. “Any particular reason?”

“No, no reason. I just-“ he was just what? There was nothing he could say without sounding pathetic. “It’s nothing. In fact if you’re cold why don’t you keep it? I can just grab a different one or something, my room is just up there, it’s fine.”

“Aaron, it’s your hoodie, you have every right to wear it. Here, move your arm and I’ll even put it on for you.”

“Haley, it’s fine. If you don’t wear it you’re going to freeze and if you try to get to Kennedy then you’ll be late for dinner,” he said.

She laughed, and although it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, he couldn’t help but feel like she was mocking him. “Come on Aaron, let me put it on you.”

No, she couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t. If she touched him, he would flinch at the pain and she would ask why. She would know. They all would.

“Yeah Aaron, let her,” Emily teased, having put her phone down to watch him and Haley.

Aaron. Aaron. Why was everyone calling him that? He squeezed his eyes shut. “Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll just grab a jacket from upstairs and then we can head to dinner.”

“Oh come on Hotch, stop being difficult, let Haley touch you,” Derek teased.

 Stop being so difficult you little bitch. Stop moving Aaron, or I’ll make it worse for you. Keep your mouth shut or Sean will wake up. Imagine what it would do to him if he saw his older brother crying like a little girl. That’s right. Don’t make a sound, or you’ll be sorry.

“Aaron, you’re shaking,” Haley said, concern colouring her voice.

Shaking like a little terrified child, you’re not a child anymore stop acting like one. You’re a disgrace to this family. You need to learn what happens to disgraces. They get hurt and nobody loves them, nobody ever respects them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t, I’ll be good, just don’t,” he mumbled, legs giving out as he fell to his knees, bowing his head, leaving his hands on his thighs, away from his back and face.

“Aaron?” Haley whispered as she knelt in front of him. 

He shook his head. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see the rejection in her eyes as she realised he was damaged beyond repair.

“Hotch,” she said, this time more firmly.

He lifted his head just enough to see her mouth, pressed into a thin line as concern was written all over her face. When she realised he was looking at her, she smiled.

“Hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about okay? You haven’t done anything wrong. I promise. You’ve been absolutely perfect.”

“Weak,” he whispered.

“No, you’re so strong Aaron, you always have been. You’ve been strong for a little too long, that’s all. It’s okay though. You can let it go. You’re safe. I promise. Just let me hold you for a few minutes.”

And that was what broke the barrier. Feeling someone touch his back- a mess of scars and bruises- with a gentleness he’d only ever seen, never felt. 

He let himself cry, completely forgetting that the rest of his friends- no, his family- were right there. 

When the tears finally stopped falling, he realised he felt a lot warmer. At some point, Haley had slipped the hoodie onto him. He felt lighter now he was wearing it. He felt happier, knowing she hadn’t run, hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t had the response he had thought they would all have.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He jerked back to reality. She was still sat in front of him. The rest of the kids were watching them, the younger ones on the brink of crying. Dave and Emily looked like they were ready to break into his house and kill his dad. James and Alex were watching, the concern in their eyes enough to make him want to cry again. They cared. They loved him.

“No,” he managed to choke out.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. And you never have to hide around any of us anymore,” she said.

Hotch nodded, still feeling a bit like a ghost.

“We’re always going to be here if you want to talk about it,” Alex said softly.

“And if you want to punch something, I’ll join you,” Derek added. Emily and Dave nodded in agreement.

“You can always come home to mine,” JJ suggested. “I told my parents about you, they think you’re really cool.”

“If you ever want a soft toy to cuddle in the night, I have loads!” Penelope exclaimed. Hotch managed to laugh.

Spencer moved off Alex’s lap and walked towards Hotch, his own eyes full of unshed tears. Haley shifted to his side and Spencer threw his arms around the older boy in a tight hug. Hotch realised he was shaking as the tears fell.

“I may be small, but I’m a genius and if he ever hurts you again, I’ll work out a way to make his life a living hell,” he whispered.

Hotch started laughing at that too.

“See. We’re here for you, no matter what demons haunt you,” Haley said.

Everyone nodded.

He smiled. “Thank you. All of you.”

“We’re your friends. You don’t need to say thank you,” Emily said. When everyone stared at her, she flushed and started picking at her nail polish again.

“She’s right you know. They’re your friends.”

He picked up on the fact that she excluded herself. “And what are you?” he asked, wondering why he was asking. She was probably going to say something like acquaintance, and then he would just be sat there like an idiot.

“Are you going to be okay with them? It is a little bit cold- do not give me that look Aaron Hotchner- and I need to grab a hoodie. And don’t even try and give me yours, I want you to wear it, it’s cute on you.”

He blushed. “Thank you, I- yes. I mean yes I’ll be fine with them, not yes like you need a hoodie and you can go, because you don’t need me to tell you what you can and can’t do, like that wasn’t what I was trying-”

She pushed his hair off his forehead, laughing slightly. “I know. But you wanted to know what I am to you right? Maybe this’ll help you work it out.”

And then she kissed his forehead before waving goodbye to everyone and leaving.

Hotch remained sat there, completely shocked.

Penelope squealed and he winced at the sound.

“Get it!” Emily shouted.

His blush became even more prominent. “Shut up.”

“Err, no. Haley kissed Hotchner!” Derek said, laughing.

“Oh my gosh, Haley and Hotchner. You guys could be called Halner! No wait, how about Hotley?”

“Penelope, shut up,” he pleaded, but he smiled as he said it.

She matched his grin. Derek and Emily were high-fiving. Dave looked smug. Alex and James looked so proud. JJ had a small smile, one that showed she was happy for him but was still a little grossed out by the thought of romance. Spencer looked horrified. That made his smile even wider.

Things were far from perfect. And one kiss wasn’t going to solve his issues. But with a group of his friends that loved him, that he could trust with his life and a girl who had done the opposite of running for the hills, he could finally start to heal.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #criminal minds fic #psolc #tw child abuse #sumayyah writes cm

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter seventeen: the city by the lake

“So here we are in Lone Pine—what's next again?” Alex asked her as he drank down his fresh coffee.

“Independence. Fort Independence and also Manzanar.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Yeah. I remember the first time I polished up on my history and my dad told me about it. I was horrified, especially by how it's so close to home, too. But yeah, it's Independence, Manzanar, and then Big Pine, and then finally Bishop. We'll stop there and I'll show you one of mine and my parents' favorite places to go at during this whole road trip: right on the main street. Maybe the next time around—like when it's closer to summer, we can go up to Tom's Place—up the hill north of Bishop. My dad stopped at Tom's Place once years ago, and he said they have literally the best blueberry cobbler.”

“Yum,” Alex declared as he rolled his eyes up into the back of his head, and it made her giggle.

He sipped on his coffee some more and he peered out the window which looked out to the west. Mount Whitney was still buried underneath those clouds, but every so often, those feathery wispy sheets dissipated and they both looked on at those high jagged points as they stood strong and foreboding and blanketed with a fresh layer of pure white snow, like the highest most haunted castle in all of the land. Sam shivered at the sight of those points and then she returned to her French toast.

“Just looks cold up there,” he said.

“Where? Up there?” Sam pointed out the window to the top of the mountain, and he nodded. “You know, we're not too far from Death Valley.”

“Oh, yeah, there's that race they have every year. You know, the run from the very bottom of Death Valley to the peak of Mount Whitney.”

“Oh, that! Yeah! That takes place every summer, though. I mean, it makes sense—given how cold it is up there and everything but—still.”

“Right?” Alex showed her a little grin as he reached for another piece of toast. “We should go to Yosemite at some point.”

“I dunno if we can go up there, though,” she confessed. “I didn't see the sign that says that the roads are closed, but that one in particular on this side of the mountains—Tioga, because it's so high up—is closed for most of the year.”

“'Cause of black ice and whatnot,” he added.

“Right! But that's another adventure for us, if you ask me, though. When I went on the road trip with Louie, he mentioned the Eastern Sierra being so peaceful. I kinda wish I agreed with him the first time around because—it really is. There's so much to this side of California. So much to offer, so much to see, so many unique adventures away from L.A., San Diego, and the Bay Area. So much more than meets the eye.”

“It's almost as if you're showing me the one place that you go to when no one's looking,” he said with a thoughtful look on his face. Sam hesitated and then it dawned on her. She really was showing it to him. She was showing him her quiet place. “And at some point, I probably should show you mine, too.”

“You have a quiet place, too?”

He nodded at that and the black hair dye on the crown of his head seemed to fade away with the movements of his head.

“It's not where you think, though,” he explained. “If and when you and I have time and there's a right place for it, I'll show it to you. And I want it to be just you and me, too—there's only one other person I think of who's been to it and that was my mom.”

“Mama took her baby to a place to keep him quiet,” she teased him as she brought her cup of coffee to her lips.

“Yes! Exactly!” he laughed at that, and he raised his coffee cup to her and they made a toast to one another. A toast to one another and then they ate up the rest of their toast. He took one last sip of his coffee and then he leaned back in his chair.

“Feel better?” she asked him.

“Oh, yes,” he replied with a nod of his head and a hand on his stomach, “a lot better actually. I was getting ready to roll out of the car, chase something down and kill it with my bare hands.” She burst out laughing at that.

“I was, though!” he insisted. “And it was that—like—real sudden hunger, too. You know, it's like you're fine one second and then all of a sudden, it's like 'hooooly fuck, I'm starving!'” He said that last part under his breath. “It's sudden and leaves you feeling kinda sick, too. It's almost like you're carsick.”

“Ooh, yeah, that sucks,” she said with her nose wrinkled, and then she took another sip of her coffee. “It also didn't help you were actually in a car, too.”

“Right!”

One more sip of her coffee and then she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“Shall we?” she offered him.

“We shall,” he said back to her and he put his sunglasses back on over his nose and gave his flattened stomach a loving pat. Sam led him back outside, and she held the door for him all the while.

“Thank you,” he told her and he adjusted the lapels of his windbreaker. The cold winds flooded down from the Whitney Portal and the rugged tall mountains off to the north; she huddled closer to him as she got the keys ready for the next stint of the trip and yet even more cold desolate desert.

Soon, they returned to the road and the short series of stoplights all the way to the edge of town and even more barren, wide open road. Alex peered out the window and the morning sun, which had now risen up over the windswept landscape: a fine layer of clouds blanketed those cold rays as if it behaved as a veil. The shine on those mirrored lenses appeared as more of a glow rather than a straight glare.

“So new album's gonna be called Practice What You Preach, right?” she asked him as the signs for Manzanar entered her view.

“That's the running title, actually,” he explained, “I do hope it's gonna be called that. It just feels appropriate, you know? Especially for this time and era, but at the same time, I don't wanna be like—really on the nose about the things I'm thinking of with writing lyrics.”

“The power of art!” she said. “I still owe you a demo.”

“It's okay,” he assured her, “we needed breakfast after all. And there's so much you wanna show me, too.”

“There really is, Alex. Like I said, this whole road is like a gateway to a whole bunch of adventures. A lot of things that so many don't know about, and a part of me wants to keep it all to ourselves.”

“You didn't call it a quiet place for no reason,” he pointed out.

“True.”

On the left side of the highway, the sage brush and scraggly low trees gave way to partially collapsed chain link fences and the low buildings that made up that old Japanese internment camp. The house in Elsinore felt like a prison for sure, but the sight of that old abandoned compound left Sam speechless. She took a glimpse over at Alex and the thoughtful expression still plastered on his face, even with the sunglasses upon his nose.

To think that she and him wanted nothing to do with each other at one point, much like how she didn't care for Marla at first, and to the point she was willing to take Charlie from her. She still had a long way to go with him, especially when the beautifully desolate desert gave way to even more low rolling foothills and steep slopes along those ferocious towering mountains with their thick sheets of snow, those massive, thick glaciers indicative of the Palisades, the rather treacherous part of the Sierra Nevadas. Even in broad daylight, they looked ready to take these two young kids under their darkness as if they were dragons that guarded the castle down by Mount Whitney.

All along the fine white sands under the seemingly endless droves of scraggly sage brush. All within even more black volcanic rock.

Within time, they reached Big Pine and the titular big sequoia tree at the northern end in all of its lush light greenery even in the dead of winter, like the tallest turret of the castle.

“Here's a fun li'l fact for you, Alexander,” Sam started again. “That tree right there was planted by Teddy Roosevelt.”

“Really?” He was genuinely stunned by that.

“Planted it almost a whole century ago, and it just got bigger and fuller and healthier with time.”

“Sounds like my belly,” he joked, and she laughed at that.

“Past that tree is yet another road to Death Valley. But keep going on it and you end up in Nevada and eventually the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest—right on the other side of those mountains over there.”

“Ancient bristlecone pines,” he echoed that.

“Literally some of the oldest trees in the world out there.”

“Yet another adventure for us.”

“Right?”

The Palisades soon gave way to a far more elaborate complex of rugged rough mountains, all covered with even more snow and glaciers. Meanwhile, the sun dipped behind a thicker part of clouds, such that Alex took off his sunglasses and revealed his deep set eyes to the world. The black hair dye upon the crown of his head glimmered and shone under the faint gray winter light and for a second, she swore that she saw that little tuft of gray there right over his brow once again.

“Do you plan on dyeing your hair again?” she asked him.

“Um—” He stopped and those eyes caressed over the immense corridor of land before them. “Actually—no. Unless there's a reason for it.”

“I don't want you to,” she told him. “That little tuft of gray hair is what makes you—” She hesitated for a second in search of the right word. “—unique.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip and sighed through his nose. She was sincere with that: that little tuft of premature gray set him apart from everyone else whom she had known before then.

Another fifteen miles of flat sands across the landscape and soon the first trees, the ones that weren't bristlecone pines or anything akin to them, appeared in their view. The mountains dipped away into the low hanging gray clouds and gave way to a bowl shaped valley before them. The town of Bishop emerged in their view.

“So the place that my parents and I liked to go to on the way through here,” she began as they slowed up for the main street and the deserted, rolling golf course off to the left, “it's—on my side.”

He looked out the windshield along with her. They rolled at a slow pace, past all the little shops and boutiques. The big city of the middle of nowhere right at the base of all the giant mountains. All the rocks to climb and master. All to uncover and carry the weight upon: for a fleeting moment, Sam thought of Belinda and how much she loved to work with her hands. She wondered how Belinda would fare in such a stark terrain because it all but required one to work with their hands, especially if they were artists.

She recognized that rusted sign as it poked out from the side of the road, right beyond the stoplight at the center of town.

“Ah! Here we are.”

Lucky for them, there was no one else in the parking lot given it was New Year's, and thus she eagerly took the first spot closest to the heavy wooden front doors, right in the narrow parking lot. The clouds overhead thinned out a bit for the sun's rays as it began to reach the apex of the sky: but the fact that the mountains had disappeared behind a block of white clouds told Sam that the snows were upon them.

She led him inside the bakery, into that initial narrow corridor followed by the room off to the left with all of the bread and pastries they could possibly imagine. On the far side of the room stood the case with all the fresh cookies and cakes either of them could ask for. She thought of Joey on the previous New Year's Eve, in how they could have all the ice cream they could possibly imagine some day.

A part of her felt as though she and Alex could have all the fresh pastries they could ever ask for some day themselves. Alex himself set a hand on his stomach even though they had only eaten an hour before; Sam raised two fingers to the older baker, who then took out one of the fresh dark reddish brown cookies with a kiss of pearly white frosting on the front side from the row right before her with a sheet of white tissue paper.

Alex chuckled at what she was buying for him.

“Yet another ginger snap,” he remarked.

“Except these have frosting on them—these are nothing like the one I bought for you when we were in Germany. And you're getting two this time around, too.”

“I really am going to gain weight hanging out with you,” he joked with a straight face and a shake of his head.

“It's all good for ya, son,” the baker behind the counter said. “Handmade ginger cookies.”

“Think of it as healthy weight,” she pointed out. “Healthy weight for your little body. And ginger's real good for your stomach, too.” She returned to the baker. “And I'll have one of these big round sugar cookies here, too, please.”

He kindly got the big cookie in question for her and then wrapped all three in that tissue paper, followed by a little brown paper bag. She thanked him and then the two of them doubled back towards the cashier: all the while, Sam swiped a bag of freshly baked cheesy bread from one of the racks.

“My parents love this stuff,” she told him. “It's like the ultimate road trip snack for us.”

“Just break off a piece and eat it every so often,” he followed along. “It's so humble. I kinda like it.”

“We don't have much but we have each other,” she stated.

“We don't have much but we have each other, right.”

She reached the cash register at the wooden desk first and she took out her wallet from her purse.

“I'm gonna be right over here,” he told her, and she nodded at him. She stepped forward with his ginger snap and her sugar cookie in that little paper bag as well as the cheesy bread, and the cashier rang her up in one fell swoop. She looked over at Alex as he walked on over there.

“Beautiful boy,” the cashier told her in a low voice. Sam glanced over at Alex, who gazed on at the rows of freshly baked breads on the racks on the other side of the room.

“Yeah, I guess he is,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. The cashier squinted her eyes at her.

“Hon—he's gorgeous,” she told her. “Don't lose him. It's not often you see a boy as gorgeous as him.”

Sam pursed her lips together and the cashier handed her her change. She just treated him as she would a good friend and treated him well, even with all of the complex thoughts she had in mind: she dared not look at Alex that way, especially with him still not even old enough to drink alcohol yet. She still had those thoughts within her, but thoughts would have to remain as thoughts regardless of everything else. She thanked her and beckoned Alex to follow her back outside to the gray late morning: the sun disappeared behind the thin veil of clouds once again as they returned to the car yet again.

“You smell like freshly baked bread,” she told him as he buckled in.

“And you smell—like—baked bread, too,” he retorted to her, to which she giggled at him. She fired up the car again and they doubled back to the mouth of the driveway, and back onto the main road once the light turned red. They were alone on the street: despite it being the big city of the middle of nowhere, the sidewalks had already rolled up for New Year's Eve.

She caught the next and final light green and she rounded a lefthand turn, away from the next turn off to Highway 6: she had a vague memory of that turn off, and how her father told her it extended all the way out east, all the way back to New England, but she dared not tell Alex that just yet. They had a mountain to climb in front of them.

The highway separated out into four lanes once again, two in their direction and two which headed back to Bishop: in between was a sandy barren center divider.

The clouds collected all around the summit of the gargantuan Mount Tom right before them.

“Right up this road here,” she explained as they stared the mountain straight on, “when we get to the top, is Tom's Place.”

“The place with the amazing cobbler,” he recalled.

“That's the one!”

They soon cleared the city limit and they meandered over even more barren landscape. So bare and stark, and yet there was something so endless and stunning about it all, much like the coastline. Where the coastline with Louie's presence proved to be serene and intense at the same time, the mountains paired with Alex's presence brought her in touch with herself more than ever. She dared not tell him about it as they reached a series of pastures and ranches on the edge of town.

The highway took a sharp curve around the bend and they were met with a daunting hillside.

“This part of the trip here bothers me the most,” she admitted.

“Why's that?” he asked her.

“It just goes up.”

“It just goes up?”

“All the way up.”

She realized that they were in an older car, too. She had no clue if they would reach the top still in a cool spot.

She gripped onto the rim of the steering wheel and sighed through her nose. The snows were upon them after all: she could feel it through the glass of the windshield.

She took a glimpse over at Alex and his relaxed pose, although those deep eyes were locked onto the cold pavement before them. Another glimpse and she realized how wide they had gotten with the sight before them, as if he had seen a ghost of some sort. She recognized that look in his eyes from the fire ball incident in Germany.

Sam sighed through her nose and, once she switched off the heater, she let the road guide their way.

They climbed all the way up the hillside, a continual gradual incline to the very top, high above the desert and the Owens Valley, and almost level with the mountain tops. The halfway point already had a fresh dusting of snow upon the ground.

“Jesus,” Alex muttered as the road continued on and on up the side of the hill.

“Yeah. People overheat on this mountain pass all the time.” Once the words left her lips, they passed a trailer with a water tank aboard specifically for that problem in question. She took a glance down at the narrow red needles within the gages: the one with the temperature rose a little bit but she knew their saving grace was the cold and the snow.

More snow emerged along the sides of the road. More snow, more slope. Alex shifted his weight in the seat: he clung onto the safety bar over his head. His breathing was steady but she could still see it in his eyes.

They both sat still until they spotted that sign on the side of the road that told them they reached the top of Sherwin Summit. A gentle curve downwards and then the road finally leveled out. At least a foot of snow covered either side of the road and all of the dark forests that lined the way. Miles and miles of thick dark forest covered in white snow so they resembled to those fake trees on a display at Christmas.

“Reminds me of the Black Forest,” Alex said aloud.

“Reminds me of upstate New York,” Sam followed up.

It really did, too: the highway snaked through the trees, complete with big views of Mount Tom and all the snow capped mountains before them, and Lake Crowley and the Long Valley Caldera along the way it all made her think of Finger Lakes and the thick lush forest that she and Joey drove through over to his parents' house. Alex switched the heater back on, but it was rather futile given the cold and icy feeling of everything outside the car.

She pictured Joey in the back seat right behind them as they passed the turn off up to Convict Lake as well as even more forest. She knew that, had she shown him this trip sooner, he probably would never have met Krista in the first place. He probably would love this place as well, especially with the added fact that it was all volcanic.

“This place is so stunning,” Alex remarked as he peered out the window to the vast volcanic plain, now blanketed with fresh pure white snow. “Can't believe this has been right under my nose the whole time, too.”

“Some day I'll show you Convict Lake, Rock Creek Lake, and June Lake,” she vowed as they scoured the rim of Lake Crowley: its black waters glassy under the gray sky and in between the white snow. “There's one place I haven't been to up here with my parents yet and that's Mammoth Mountain, Mammoth Lakes, and Devil's Postpile, right up this way—”

Straight ahead, Mammoth Mountain towered back against the cold gray, but soon they reached another gentle curve in the road and headed for more dark forest. More dark forest lined with small snowy clearings and tiny ponds of black icy water.

“Somewhere along the way here is Obsidian Hill,” she told him as they slithered through those tall trees, “a literal five hundred foot high pile of obsidian.”

“Volcanic glass,” he said.

“Don't take any of it, though,” she advised him. “We are in a volcano, after all.”

“Something about the goddess Pele or something?” he recalled. “I remember reading about her in that book when we were in England. The one where I read about the Wandering Jew. Like if you take something from a volcano, it'll erupt or something—I don't completely recall it.”

“Please the goddess somehow,” she declared. “But how is another question.”

They reached the top of the next ridge, albeit a low one in comparison to the hulking Obsidian Hill, which hid away back in the trees like a troll. Another sign appeared on the side of the road which told them they reached the top of Dead Man Summit. At that point, Alex set a hand on his stomach yet again.

“Ginger snap time,” she said.

“Time for a snap,” he said with a snap of his fingers. He took one out of the paper bag in between them: right underneath it was the cheesy bread. While he took a cookie for himself, she reached into that bag with one hand. With two fingers, she sloughed off a piece of that bread and stuck it in her mouth.

“Yeah, I'm gonna be so plump by the time I'm thirty,” he confessed as he broke off a piece of ginger snap and set it on his tongue.

“Let me ask you something,” she began.

“Ask me anything.”

“Why are you so concerned about your weight? Like that's something that I worry about. I've never met a guy who was so finicky about that.”

“'Cause I'm Jewish—we have health problems galore. Obesity and trouble with the heart runs in my family, too.”

“Aw, I had no idea.”

“It's okay—you didn't know. But—you know—I can't help myself sometimes. I don't care. I like to eat!”

“You grew up in the Bay Area, too. You guys aren't really known for your food so much.”

“No, we aren't! When we eat, we eat.” He took another bite of ginger snap and closed his eyes.

“Man, I wish we had Mexican hot chocolate with us,” she declared. “You ever had that?”

“YES,” he replied with his eyes so big that he resembled to a cartoon character.

“I made a couple of cups of that for Cliff when we were together,” she said in a soft voice, “he loved it. And I feel like that cookie there would go excellent with a little cup of that.”

“Oh, my god, talk about spicy,” he said as he covered his mouth with his free hand. He then swallowed. “By the way, what's the food like over in New York? I only caught a small sliver of it the times Testament went out that way to record but is it really as extensive as everyone says it is?”

“That's an understatement,” she told him. “Alex, I only lived there for three years but I feel like I only scratched the surface. Marla and Bel know far more about it than I do and I think they get overwhelmed from time to time.”

“Jew boy paradise,” he said as he took another bite.

They passed the June Lake Junction followed by a small series of frozen creeks in the woods, and then they were met with a watershed in the shape of a small valley. A thin layer of snow covered the grass out there. Once Alex finished his ginger snap, he licked his lips and gave his black hair a little toss back. In that stint of the trip alone, the black hair dye faded even more to the point Sam could actually see those grays once again.

“Kinda thirsty,” he said.

“We'll stop in Lee Vining and get some water,” she assured him, “we need to get gas anyway.”

Indeed, they turned the next bend, which brought them down lower into the watershed: off before them stood the noxious glassy salt water Mono Lake. They turned another bend and she caught a glimpse of the salty turrets down by the shoreline.

“I remember Mark Twain talking about this lake,” he said aloud, “how it's so salty that it's like swimming in brine.”

“Yeah, it smells, too,” she added, and she couldn't help but think of the East River back in New York all the while; “and not how the beach and the ocean smell, either. Salty and even more volcanic than Lake Crowley. Not the best combination for humans.”

Even though it was midday, the shadows of the mountains next to them cast down upon them like a veil. Sam thought about Zelda and the name she wanted to give the Cherry Suicides' album, that of Black Veils. She was yet another person she wished could see this trip with her and Alex.

They passed the turn off for Tioga Road, which led into Yosemite, and all the while, he muttered, “some day... some day...” to himself.

“Some day, indeed,” she vowed; the road dipped down and they slowed up a bit for the town of Lee Vining. She brought them to the gas station right in the center of town, where he offered to fill them up and she offered to get him some water. She was the only person in that gas station, too, such that she considered merely taking the water bottles for herself when the clerk in the back stopped her in her tracks. They had a good laugh but she was in fact serious about it.

“Man, there is no one here,” Alex said as he stood before the tank door and held the pump steady.

“Middle of the day on New Year's Eve,” she told him, “all the hicks and the tourists went home or they're in the city.”

Within time, and after he washed his hands, they were back on the road and they scoured the edge of Mono Lake. He peered out the window at those dark waters as they loomed just under the road's edge. Lucky for them, the snow hadn't yet come again and they cleared the lake's edge in no time. They stared straight ahead to the next kink in the road, or rather series of kinks in the road as they ascended up another side of a mountain.

“Yet another hill,” he said as he took a piece of cheesy bread for himself.

“Well, at least this time around they got it right,” she assured him as they turned the first right hand corner.

The next one turned left and they rose up a bit. The next one to the right. To the left. To the right. And on the third left one, Alex clasped a hand to his forehead.

“You okay?” she asked him.

“Kinda dizzy. This road is making me dizzy.”

“It's alright, we're almost at the top. Just one more little grind up this hill and—”

A sign appeared on the side of the road that told them they reached the top of Conway Summit, at eight thousand feet above sea level. They made a sharp right turn and began on down the other side of the hill. There at the top, the snow was the thickest it had ever been: tall steep drifts lined the sides of the separated highway as if they were genuine walls.

“Poor guy,” she said aloud.

“This is such a new thing for me,” he confessed, “being a city boy and all.”

“The rough country life is not for the faint of heart,” she told him. “Although a part of me sees you thriving out here.”

“Nah, I'd rather be in the city. Although that doesn't mean I can't not appreciate the wilderness, mind you.”

The road snaked along the other side of the hill: Sam peered out her window at the wispy light gray clouds over the mountains on the far side of the valley.

“Over that way is Twin Lakes,” she pointed out. “My mom's family visited this place so much when she was growing up.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, my great aunt is buried down here in Bridgeport.”

They scoured the edge of a huge snowy pasture and right before they reached the outskirts of that small town, they passed yet another junction to a road less travelled, the highway up to Yerington.

“We're getting close, Alex,” she told him as they strolled through Bridgeport, which too had buttoned up for New Year's Eve. “Another eighty miles—I think.” At the edge of town was another sign, but a thick layer of snow and ice obscured the words from her view.

Another straight shot across the pasture ended by a sharp right hand corner past an old dilapidated house surrounded by barren cottonwood trees, and they headed back to another series of hills.

“How's the car doing, by the way?” he asked her as he reached for his second ginger snap.

“Doing excellent! The only time I was kind of worried about it was when we went up the Sherwin grade. It got a little warm but it never went any higher because it's so cold outside. I dread to think how it'd be if we went in the summer time.”

“Oh, right? And how're you doing?”

“I'm doing excellent! My hands are a little stiff, but I've got it, though.” He flashed her a wink and took a little nibble off of the cookie.

The hills only rose up around them as if they too withheld dragons inside. All the dips and curves in the road and they were soon at the top of a hill. Another sign told them they reached the top of Devil's Gate Summit, and the fourth and final one to boot, and the one that ran adjacent to a creek.

But then Sam remembered.

Within a matter of minutes, those low snowy hills to the left gave way to high stony columns that looked as though they were about to close in all around them. And that creek gave way to a full on rumbling river that ran parallel to the road.

“Let me guess,” Alex started as he licked the crumbs off of his fingers and put his sunglasses back on, “this is the—Walker River?”

“Yes! It's the west fork, too. Even in the summer time, that water is so cold and crisp.”

“Just looks cold,” he remarked as he took a drink of water.

The black river waters washed over beds upon beds upon beds of smooth stones: every so often, a small waterfall emerged out in the open. Meanwhile, the two lane road wound through the meandering canyon like the full body of a serpent. A big beautiful serpent, lined with dense evergreen trees and tall high stony cliffs, to which the head brought them to more snow covered grass land and the rim of Lake Topaz.

“The stateline, Alex!” she declared as they zipped through the snowy scraggly trees.

“Just saw a sign back there that literally called this place 'the quiet side of California,'” he told her.

“And that's exactly what this is,” she assured him with a wink.

They rode all along the edge of the lake, which too appeared so cold and crisp that a mere glimpse sent a shiver down her spine. A final straight shot uphill and—

“Welcome to the Silver State!” Alex proclaimed as he took another drink of water.

“You know, I had a feeling we'd get here by the middle of the afternoon,” she told him as they passed a small casino on the side of the road. “Anyways—welcome home, Alex.”

“Ah, you're taking me to Carson City!” he declared.

“One of the three places I call home,” she continued, “the others being New York City and L.A.”

“Wow,” he breathed out.

The road led throughout more low hillsides and low forests, this time of stubby little bristlecone pines and pinion pines, and then they reached Gardnerville and Minden. Another ten miles across a flat valley and they reached a low ridge. On the other side was Carson City, that old familiar crown jewel that always felt so close and so far away at the same time.

A little ways down the main street and she turned right on Clearview Drive, followed by another left onto Silver Sage Drive.

That old familiar neighborhood, all of those old familiar houses now covered in a blanket of that infamous powdery snow. If only Charlie was there to see it for himself. If only Cliff could see it all, especially when held in comparison to the house in Reno.

“So this is where you grew up,” he said aloud.

“One of the neighborhoods, anyway,” she corrected him. “This one, one up in Reno, and the one down in Elsinore.”

“This is all so precious,” he declared, “it'd be like me taking you to the place I grew up.” He froze and then he looked over at her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Funny, uh—there's another place I wanna take you, too,” she declared, “but we gotta hustle, though. It might snow again.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She pulled up to the stop sign and nibbled on her bottom lip.

She remembered the way up. It would prove to be a bit of a challenge, especially since they had already gone over four hundred miles in that car. But she was willing to do it for him.

She made another left so as to head back to Carson Street.

Up the ever so slight hill, past the car dealerships and the little restaurants featured on the way out of town, and she recognized that old turn off to that big mountain road. She had only gone up that way once before and she was rather small when it happened. But that winding mountain road felt like visiting an old friend again.

She was amazed that it was even open despite all of the snow on the ground.

Alex shook his head a little bit at one point but she kept her focus on the pavement before her. A sharp turn followed by another and another so as to resemble yet another snake. He parted those sensual lips and let out a low whistle in response to the feeling within him.

But they reached the top, and all of those thick lush trees clustered together against the dense snow, and Sam recognized even more glassy black waters on his side, cradled by the stark mountain top.

“Spooner Lake, Alex,” she announced.

“Holy wow,” he breathed out as he ran his fingers through his black hair.

But it was an appetizer for what awaited them at the very top and beyond the forests and the next bend in the road as it overlooked the enormous valley down below, and as far as they both knew, the entire world at their whim. They had climbed the mountain to see the world, but before them was what she held dear, and for him in particular.

The snowy scapes cradled those freezing, perfectly still black waters before them. Where they had seen the ugly salt waters of Mono Lake, they were met with the massive beauty of Lake Tahoe. Alex lifted his mirrored sunglasses off of his nose for a better look before him.

“One of the places my mom loved going to when she was growing up,” Sam started again as the road gently dipped downward, “was Incline Village.”

“Is that what this is down here?”

“Nah, this is Glenbrook over here. Incline's over that way—” She pointed out his side of the windshield and the lush banks of snow that covered the forest along the lake side. “I have no doubt that had she not picked Catalina, she would've moved there. To the city by the lake.”

“What stopped her?”

“Her publisher's based out of L.A.”

“I see.”

“We'd have to turn around and head back to Spooner Lake to get there, too. But—” She bowed her head for a better look out the windshield. Even though it was only five o'clock in the afternoon, the night was upon them, as were the storm clouds overhead. All the way up they had gathered around the mountain summits, but now they were officially upon a mountain summit, and thus it warranted snow.

“I don't know if we can get back over there before the snow comes in, Alex,” she said aloud. “Or back down for that matter. That road sucks when it snows.”

“What do you think we should do?” he asked her, concerned.

“Well... we have that blanket in the back and we have our jackets with us.”

“That means we gotta fold the seats back, though,” he pointed out.

“And? Here—”

She slowed to a stop at the next side street, which brought them closer to the water's edge as well as a few long low buildings, including a bar. Once they had come onto smoother pavement, the winds picked up. She pulled behind the bar, away from the water and ultimately the incoming wind and the blizzard.

“We'll park behind this bar here so we're out of the wind.”

“Eat some more of that cheesy bread, too,” he said.

“I'll go into the bar here if you want something more to eat,” she promised him. “I don't have much left on me except enough to get us back down the hill and then over to some place like the Bay Area, but that's for later on, though.”

“And I'll keep you warm,” he promised her.

Five o'clock in the afternoon and yet Sam was exhausted, with no desire to go any further. Indeed, she could see it on his face as well. Both of them had traveled hundreds of miles together and without the sense of a tour lingering over him in particular. She killed the engine and they both climbed out. Both of them wore windbreakers and yet Sam knew it wouldn't be enough. He opened the passenger door and took the blanket off of the seat before he adjusted it back: she did the same when flurries fluttered down from the darkening sky overhead.

“I got another couple of jackets back here, too,” he told her as he took a pair of dark puffy jackets out from under the seat closest to him. “Use these for pillows—”

He rolled up the first one and lay it down in front of him, and did the same for the next one.

Sam brushed the extraneous snow off of her head before she climbed in and onto the flattened back seat. Alex followed suit, although he had to skirt around the edge of the seat so he could lay right next to her. He shut that door above their heads and she shut the other door down by their feet. He then took the blanket and spread it over their bodies.

“Just like that—yeah—yeah—yeah, you got it?” He lay there on his side with the jacket rolled up right under his head; she nestled down right next to him with her head upon the other jacket. She lay right there with only an inch of clearance between herself and the tip of his aquiline nose. Four hundred miles of driving and they both had had enough despite it being early still.

“I do,” she told him in a hushed voice.

“Okay.”

His slender body was so very warm; even though he had slimmed down a great deal, his stomach was still very soft. She kept her arms around his slim waist: even as a thin, almost delicate young man, he had rather prominent hipbones and such thick sinewy thighs. Even when thin and having shed most of his childhood weight, he was still as warm and soft as a teddy bear. She pictured him as even more delicate in a few years time at the rate he was going at with his weight: even having eaten to his heart's desire at the house down in Catalina, he still maintained that slim figure. She tucked her head under his chin so she could better feel the warmth from his neck.

To think that she was laying like this in a bed in West Germany not long ago. To think that she had no one next to her, and for months, in that bed in the house down in Lake Elsinore. That room all to herself for months, such that it felt like a prison of sorts.

“This feels so weird,” she confessed.

“Why's that?”

“Well—because the last time I got this close with a guy was Joey. And I dunno if we're even a thing anymore.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at that. She kept her hand on the small of his back: it wasn't long ago she lay the same way with Joey before and with her hands down lower on him. Maybe she overthought the whole thing and he really was fooling around. No way she could ask him at that point, however.

Alex shivered a bit.

“Are you cold?” she gently asked him.

“A little bit—I'm feeling kind of a draft on the side of my neck. I also think I've lost too much weight.”

“What makes you think that?” she asked him.

“Even under the blankets, I'm cold.”

With a bit of a struggle, Sam lifted her hand and she tugged on the blanket a bit so it covered the side of his neck. She brought her hand towards the small of his back and she burrowed even closer to him so he was warm. Outside, the snow pummeled on the street and the sidewalk beyond the car: given they were behind a brick wall, every so often some of the snow hit the roof or the hood, but not enough to deafen them.

“I will say this,” he started again with a sniffle.

“What's that?”

“I'm glad we parked behind this bar here—” His voice was low and crisp sounding, as though he had a sore throat. “Listen to those winds.”

Sam nestled even closer next to him as the winds picked up out there to where they formed a ghostly howl. He may have felt cold, but his chest was warm and his body was soft and tender. He bowed his head a bit so he could better keep in the warmth between them.

“God, you're so soft,” she told him, “you're like a little teddy bear.”

“I'm gonna say this, though,” he said, “I'm sure you can feel my arms.”

“I do.” Indeed, even though his body was soft, his lanky arms felt so firm and toned, even when covered in that thick windbreaker. “I see you just being so elegant, though,” she confessed as she recalled his life's wish. “All wrapped in lace and standing tall.”

“I dunno 'bout lace,” he said. “Velvet, maybe. Velvet with—silk.”

“All silky soft,” she joked and he chuckled at that.

She had no memory of what happened after that: they both fell asleep, and she woke up to total darkness and the howl of the cold winter winds. And yet even in the wake of the noise outside, Sam caught the sound of voices on the street. Against the wind, she swore she heard church bells ringing.

“Happy New Year!” a man shouted. “Happy 1989!”

“Happy New Year, Samantha,” Alex whispered to her in a broken voice.

“Happy New Year, Alex,” she whispered back. She was practically squeezing his thin little body at that point, but she knew that he would be toasty warm in the morning.

#fanfic #fanfiction #testament fanfic #testament band #testament #chapter 17 #alex skolnick #alex x sam #slice of life #slow burn #oh god the memories #writing #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #text #long reads #REALLY long post #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #souls of black #book four

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Out of Time

Pairings: Avengers!Reader x Daniel Sousa, Steve x Bucky (briefly mentioned)

Summary: Just when you were starting to enjoy your time in 1949 everything falls apart. SEQUEL TO Not So Bad

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: some swearing, panic attack, mention of ptsd and war, some angst

A/N: @bookish-bucky @drinkerofcoffeewriterofwords and @mydoctorwho13 asked for a part 2 to Not So Bad so here it is! (I hope y’all don’t mind that I tagged you/lmk if you want me to untag you/idk why it didn’t let me tag all of you). More notes at the bottom!

___

The cat was out of the bag. 

Well, really just one cat was out of its bag. 

Basically your secret was out and it was entirely your fault. 

You were at Howard’s lab for the third time for even more tests. All of the previous tests had been inconclusive, though that came as no surprise to you. You had engineered them to be that way, pretending to suddenly and uncontrollably levitate in response to random tests, doing your best to ensure that Howard would be unable to make any connections. 

But today you were a bit distracted. 

You couldn’t help it, you were only human after all. And when Daniel Sousa is flashing an award-winning grin while Howard tried his most bizarre test ever (repeatedly trying to scare you in hopes it would spark a levitation reaction), well, any woman in your position would’ve done the same.

You jumped. No, you did more than just jump. 

Howard Stark snuck up behind you and yelled while shaking your shoulders and you flew. Shot straight up in the air like a rocket, feeling entirely like your teenage self with absolutely no control of your abilities. 

And then, to make matters worse, you disappeared. 

You assumed it must’ve been the embarrassment of smacking your head on the ceiling that caused the sudden invisibility though the ‘why’ didn’t really matter anymore. What mattered was you were invisible and Daniel and Howard were shouting your name. 

Except, no, that didn’t matter right now either. All you could focus on was the sudden tightening in your chest and the fact that you were finding it harder to breathe. The shouting faded to the background as you began to feel trapped in your own skin. 

I have to get out of here. 

So you ran. 

You didn’t even think as you flew out of Howard’s lab, racing down the hall. You didn’t stop until you were in the bathroom, door locked behind you. You slid down to the floor, knees pulled tight against your chest as you leaned against the door.

Briefly, you noticed that you were still invisible, though the thought left as soon as it came. You also vaguely noticed the tears streaming down your face, though you were unaware of when they had begun. Your thoughts zipped back to the lab and the concern lacing Daniel and Howard’s voices as they called out to you and for a moment you felt bad for running away but that too was pulled away in the hurricane of your mind. Your whole body felt abuzz and you couldn’t think or breathe as a feeling of utter helplessness settled into your bones. 

You tried to remember what Tony had told you to do- something about box breathing exercises and the five senses- but you weren’t sure that you were in control of your mind anymore. 

“Y/N, if you can hear me name four street names from where you grew up.” Daniel’s voice rang through the bathroom door. Before you could even consider how he had found you or why he needed to know you answered,

“Main Street, Birch Street, Higgins Drive, Cobalt Lane.” The words were stuttered and separated by harsh inhales and exhales. 

“Name your five favorite movies.”

“La La Land, Ferris Bueller, Beauty and the Beast, Spirited Away, Inception.” The words were smoother this time, though tears still streamed down your face and your bones still felt heavy and your skin restrictive. 

“Okay, name ten presidents.”

“Uh, Ellis, Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, FDR… Teddy Roosevelt, Eisenhower… Reagan, Nixon… Kennedy.” Your voice was steady as you spoke, your chest no longer heaving with sobs and shaking breaths. 

“Good. Now name seven state capitals.” 

“Albany, Trenton, Tallahassee, Nashville, Lansing, Richmond, Raleigh.” When you opened your eyes you noticed you were visible again, though when it had happened you weren’t sure. 

“Are you okay?” Daniel’s voice came through the door, soothing you more than you realized. 

“Yeah.” You answered quietly, your voice raw. 

“If you’re comfortable with it, will you open the door?”

Your soul turned to mush at his words, Daniel Sousa- ever the gentleman. You felt an immense amount of comfort in the man despite only knowing him a few days but you were scared. You had just fully exposed your powers and had a panic attack, you hadn’t been this vulnerable to another person in years. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Daniel spoke again, no judgment lacing his voice, only kindness, compassion, and caring. 

You stood slowly, your muscles aching as you stretched them from their tensed position, and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal Daniel. Your eyes immediately jumped to his face, his expression almost pained though it changed as soon as he saw you, morphing into relief and something else you couldn’t quite place. 

“How did you know how to do that?” You blurted out, though you had really wanted the first thing you said to him to be “thank you” or “I’m sorry.”

Instead, apparently your brain was preoccupied with how the man before you had walked you through your panic attack. 

“Oh, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Well after the war… ptsd and all, I’m no stranger to panic attacks.”

You softened at his confession, forgetting, despite his limp and his cane, that the man before you had gone through a war and had not come out unscathed. Before you even knew what you were doing you were hugging him. He let out a small “oof” as you wrapped your arms around his middle, squeezing slightly. 

Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you in return. 

“Thank you,” you finally mumbled into his suit jacket. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Daniel asked, confusion etched into his features as he pulled away from your embrace. 

“I-I disappeared and I ran and I panicked and you had to come get me and deal with all that.” You gestured wildly as you spoke, words fumbling together in your rush to get it all out. 

“Y/N, helping you isn’t a burden to me,” Daniel spoke softly, tilting your chin up so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “And what you just went through- what you’ve been going through with these... strange abilities, your reaction was completely justified.” 

Your heart clenched at his words. He was speaking to you with such honesty and openness but you were lying to him. You sighed, taking a step back, his arms falling away from your waist and you suddenly felt cold without the heat of his embrace. 

“I-” You faltered, needing to take a breath before you could continue. “I need to tell you and Howard something.” 

 ___

“What exactly were you hoping to accomplish with this lie, Miss Y/L/N?” You winced at the use of your last name. Daniel hadn’t used it since that first night in his house. 

You tried to shrink into yourself, considering going invisible once again to escape the look of betrayal Daniel was fixing you with. 

“Are you a spy?” He was angry and betrayed and you could see him trying to reason this out to himself, but you knew he’d never even fathom the truth. “Was this an attempt to infiltrate SHIELD? Who do you work for?”

“Daniel,” you whispered, and the stern look you were fixed with told you everything you needed to know. The only way out of this was the full truth, timeline be damned. 

“I work with a team of powered people called The Avengers.” You sighed. “About two weeks ago, two of our members stole the Tesseract from Camp Lehigh in order to save the world from an alien who wiped out fifty percent of the universe. After we succeeded, I was tasked with returning the Tesseract but due to a malfunction I’m stuck here.” 

“I’m pretty sure we would’ve noticed the Tesseract being stolen and the destruction of half of the world,” Daniel said crossly, clearly not believing you though you didn’t blame him. 

“You wouldn’t have because for you none of that has happened yet and I returned the Tesseract immediately after it was taken.” 

“You mean this happened in the future?” Howard finally spoke, looking at you with a newfound curiosity.

You nodded. “In the year 2023.” 

Howard let out a low whistle at the date but there was a gleam in his eyes like a kid in a candy store. 

“I have so many questions.”

You smiled sadly, “Surely you understand that I can’t tell you what happens without destroying the timeline.” 

“No, we don’t understand.” Daniel snapped, “Because time travel doesn’t exist.” 

“Daniel I can’t make you believe me, I literally have no way to prove this to you,” you sighed, not wanting to argue with the man. “I didn’t even mean to drag you into this, I came here for Howard’s help fixing my device so I could go back.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, if I was a spy, I’d have absolutely nothing to report. I didn’t get anywhere near SHIELD or any of Howard’s projects.” You tried to smile, though you felt like crying. “You’re a good agent and a good leader, Daniel Sousa, but most importantly you’re a good man and I am not deserving of your help or your trust.” 

Daniel’s eyes softened at your words, though he still held a defensive stance. The lab remained silent for a few minutes but your eyes never left Daniel’s face, observing the flurry of emotions that resided there. 

“Time travel would explain those movies and presidents I’ve never heard of.”

You cringed slightly, not realizing you had potentially blown the timeline during your panic attack.

“Yeah, those won’t come out for another few decades,” you rubbed the back of your neck embarrassedly, “And I suppose I ruined a few elections for you.” 

“I’ll live,” Daniel responded with a shrug before his eyes widened in realization, “I will live right?” 

“Honestly? I have no idea what your life looks like. I didn’t pay a lot of attention in school.” You answered sheepishly, a small smile gracing your features at the forgiveness, however small, that came with Daniel’s statement. 

“I’m not even going to ask because I already know that I must be remembered for my genius because you came to me for help,” Howard smirked cockily, “Now, let’s get your time machine fixed and get you home.” 

“Oh hell, you did not need that ego boost,” you groaned. 

Howard had the audacity to wink. 

___

The next week was difficult. You were still staying with Daniel but the dynamic between the two of you had changed entirely. There were no more soft, shared glances, or meaningful looks, or chats over coffee in the morning. In fact, Daniel seemed to be avoiding looking at you at all, only doing so when absolutely necessary. He had thrown all his energy into getting you back to your time. 

It broke your heart a bit, though you’d never admit it. You’d known the man for a little over a week, you couldn’t be getting all teary-eyed because he wasn’t looking at you anymore. Plus, wasn’t he doing exactly what you wanted by helping you get back? Still, it felt a little as though he was trying to get rid of you. 

That week had felt like torture. A constant turmoil of indecipherable emotions swirling inside you and you had no idea what to do with it all. So you pushed on. Pushed all the way to the day Howard fixed your time travel watch. 

“I think I’ve finally got it!” He exclaimed, gleefully. “I’ve invented time travel!”

“Not so fast, Stark.” You chided, “My team invented time travel, you’ve just fixed it.” 

Howard merely rolled his eyes, muttering something about “no fun” and brought you the device. Daniel was standing off to the side, eyes refusing to meet yours, consistent with the past week. You sighed, accepting the watch and sliding it onto your wrist. 

“Well, we’ve only got one shot,” you may have been stalling, though you wouldn’t admit it to yourself. “Are you sure it’s right, Howard?”

“Honestly? No. But I’m sure that I have no other solutions than what I’ve already done.”

“Is this a good idea?” You asked aloud, to no one in particular. 

“Y/N, you need to get back.” Daniel sighed, lifting his eyes to meet yours and you thought you saw grief in them. “Your team is probably worried about you.” 

“If this works how it’s supposed to, I’ll be back just seconds after I left,” you shook your head sadly, “Just in time for retirement cake.” 

“Retirement?” His head was cocked to the side like a confused puppy and your heart leapt into your throat at the first unprofessional conversation you’ve shared in a week.

You nodded, “One of my teammates is stepping away to settle down with his boyfriend.” 

“His boyfriend?” Daniel questioned skeptically and you forgot what time you had been stuck in. You knew from Steve and Bucky’s stories that the 30s and 40s were not a good time to be lgbt but you could tell by the way that he had spoken that Daniel didn’t hold any of those biases. It was just one more thing about the future to be confused about.  

“You’d love them,” you whispered honestly. 

He probably would, the three of them have so much in common between the war and SHIELD and Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. For a moment you let yourself imagine a world in which you had been born in this era, in which Bucky had never been captured and Steve never frozen. A world where you could fall in love with Daniel Sousa and live happily ever after surrounded by friends. 

You shook yourself out of it. There was no future for you here and there was a team waiting for you in the future. You sighed, punching the date and time into your watch. You were out of time. 

“What if I didn’t go?” You blurted out, unable to contain the question any longer. 

“Y/N, your team-” Daniel started. 

“Doesn’t need me. They all have lives and happiness and fulfillment and-“ you shuddered as you released this word vomit of feelings you didn’t even realize you had before you whispered, “And maybe I deserve some of that myself.” 

Daniel Sousa made you feel cared for and appreciated in a way nobody ever had in the 21st century and you’d be damned if you gave that up without a fight. 

“What about the timeline?”

“Fuck the timeline!” You exclaimed and Howard giggled and your cursing. 

“Daniel,” you sighed. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before and I don’t wanna put too much pressure on this, but I think meeting you might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But if you don’t feel the same way tell me now and I’ll go back.”

You were standing right in front of him now, having closed the distance during your speech. 

“Y/N,” he sighed, his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t read though he looked at you with such tenderness that you thought you might melt right there as he reached up a hand to cup your cheek.

You weren’t entirely sure, but you thought you might’ve muttered “kiss me” before his lips were on yours, soft and warm and you felt like fireworks were erupting in your stomach. It was a short kiss, no more than a few seconds, but it confirmed a number of things for you. The most significant thing being that you were never going back to 2023. 

___

A/N: A few things: 1. the street names listed while Y/N is having a panic attack are actually copied directly from Jessica Jones. 2. The listing miscellaneous things (street names, movies, presidents, etc.) is something my friend has had me do when I’ve had panic attacks. Idk if that works for everyone, but it certainly has helped me in the past and I can really only write from my own experiences. 3. I lowkey wanna write a oneshot for the fantasy Y/N has towards the end where she’s born during the same time period as Stucky, Peggy, Howard, and Sousa and she probably joins SHIELD which is how she meets Sousa (Edit: this exists now and you can find it here!). Idk, let me know what you think! 

#daniel sousa x reader #avengers!reader #endgame #agent carter #shield #howard stark #daniel sousa #steve rogers #bucky barnes #slight stucky #time travel #avengers #mcu #marvel #post endgame #1940s

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Love of my life; Ahkmenrah x reader

*Author’s note*

I promised you guys didn’t I? Well here is Part 2 to History comes to life In this chapter there is nothing but FLUFFY PINING, some hints of flirting(?), but above all LOVING. And a bit of makeout (but it’s all PG). I also couldn’t help myself with this fic by adding a certain band in this and joking around with the fact that Rami played both these characters/people so I hope you all enjoy the little fun poke I do in this fic. Enjoy my lovelies :) 

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@simonedk​

@geek-and-proud​

@kairosfreddie​

________________________________________________________

It was five months after the whole Save the museum fiasco.  And even though my internship ended, thanks to Larry I was still able to come anytime whether to do additional research or just to spend time with my new friends. Teddy was an excellent historian and it was amazing to hear some of the stories that only the real Teddy Roosevelt would know.

Sacagawea was great female company to have around when the men got to be a bit too much.  She told me about her story and she even taught me how to shoot a real Native American bow and arrow.  Even though I couldn’t quite understand him, Attila was fun to be around, he and the rest of his Huns always wanted me to tell them stories and see if I could perform any tricks for them (thankfully I still remember some of the close up magic card tricks I used to do for Nicky when he was younger).

Then there was Jed and Octavius.  Those two—they are something I’ll give you that. They especially like to watch funny cat videos on Youtube.  

Of course they still have their moments where they butt heads but either I or Larry are there to set them straight before they’re once again besties.

And of course I can’t forget, the pharaoh himself, Ahkmenrah.  Every night he and I would spend the most time together.  From learning each other’s life story, to dancing along to some of my favorite songs or showing him my favorite artists/bands.

Throughout all the time that Ahkmen and I have spent together, my feelings for him slowly began to grow.  I tried to hide it but every time I tried to ignore it, my feelings for the millennia’s old pharaoh just kept growing and growing.  The way his light blue eyes would stare into mine just felt like he was piercing my soul.  

They made you feel not only insecure because they held such regalness to them, but they made you feel safe because even with him being probably the highest authority in history he’d never make you feel like you were inferior to him.

His smile was like—literally looking into the sun because it made you feel so warm inside.  And when he touches your hand—it could damn well just make you melt.

The two of us were currently in the Hall of African mammals sitting up along the lion’s perch.  Ahkmenrah was currently stroking the top of the male lion whom he’s named Maahes, while I had the female leopard I named Seshat with her head on my lap, her deep purring sounding off as I stroked her head.

“So is it really true you knew the Guardian of Brooklyn before he took his post?”

“Yeah, the Daley’s and I go way back to when I was in high school. Nicky was probably the best kid I ever babysat. He never spoke back to me and he wasn’t spoiled. He’s—really become like my little brother.”

“Consider yourself lucky to not have any other sibling.” He said trailing off.  I noticed the somber look on his face and I knew Maahes saw it too.  The king of the beasts actually nuzzled against Ahkmenrah letting out a gentle roar.  “Thank you my friend.” Ahkmenrah thanked him as the king of the beasts suddenly turned into a kitten right before my eyes as he lay right across Akhmen’s lap.

“Now I know that you saw cats as link to the gods, did you ever go so far as to actually owning big cats such as these Maahes and Seshat?”

“My father did once own a lion of his very own. Unfortunately he got a little too rough with Kahmunrah and father was forced to get rid of him. My only real exotic pet would’ve been Horus, my falcon. He was such a reliable companion.”

“You must’ve trained him well.”

“He was a clever bird. Sharp as a whip and as clever as any man.” He reminisced.  Just before I could respond, I felt Seshat leave my lap and her ears twitched about.  Maahes reacted the same way as he hopped off the perch and joined alongside Seshat.

The two big cats soon crouched down into a hunting position as they both slowly stalked out of the hall right towards the door.

Ahkmen and I looked at each other confused before the two big cats took off like a shot before roaring out and we both heard two very familiar screams.

“Octavius!”

“Jed!” the two of us cried out as we raced out of the room and down the hall.  As we reached the end of the hallway we saw the two big cats crouched over with their front paws outward.

“Oh Ahkmenrah, lady (y/n). we are sorry to intrude on your time together…..” Octavius said from between Maahes’ paws.

“It’s alright, Octavius. Maahes, release him!” Ahkmenrah first started off calmly before going into his kingly tone.  That low and demanding tone that just made me want to bow before him and do whatever he wished.

Maahes grumbled before obeying and released Octavius. But that’s when I remembered that there was also a second voice that screamed.

“Where’s Jed?”

‘Bout time someone remembered me!’ oh dear god not again!

“Seshat! Drop him!” She looked up at me with those kitten eyes of hers but I scolded the young leopardess. “Right now!” she then spat out Jedidiah and he soon came tumbling out covered in cat spit.  Ahkmen and I both made a face of disgust as Jed brushed himself off.

“Stupid cat!” he called up at Seshat.  She hissed down at Jed.

“Steady my friend, she’s a young kitten after all. She still doesn’t know any better.” Octavius said.  I took out a tissue and ripped a portion of it and handed it to Jed.

“Not that we’re not happy to see you both but why have you come all the way over here without the racecar? You know it’s dangerous for you both to be here, especially with Maahes and Seshat.” I said to him.

“That dangum monkey stirred up some trouble once again. He opened up the hallway window near our exhibit and before we knew it, we were attacked by giant birds.” Jed proclaimed as he cleaned himself off.

“Oh great, the onetime Larry gets sick leaving me to take care of the museum and already Dexter is making things difficult for me.” I whined.

“I’m sure it isn’t that bad.” Ahkmen tried to comfort me.

“Uhh yeah right. No offense your highness but this is probably the worst thing to ever strike our exhibits since we were at war with each other.” Jed laughed.

“It’s probably best we show you both what we are dealing with.” I knelt down and extended my hand and allowed the two miniature leaders to climb aboard before we all headed to the Hall of miniatures.

When we got there, we were definitely not expecting what Jed and Octavius had told us.  The entire room was surrounded by dozens hell maybe even almost 100 pigeons.

“Oh my god.”

“You see what I mean! Birds everywhere!”

“How could there be so many?” Ahkmen asked.

“Apparently Dexter also had some food in hand when he allowed these pigeons in the museum.” We walked inside stepping over the birds. Of course when they suddenly took off, I couldn’t help but shriek and grab onto Akhmen’s arm.  

I set the boys down in Jed’s territory which seemed to be the worst case.

“Jed, Octavius. We’ve tried every single weapon we got but all it’s done is caused these birds to leave more of their crap behind.” Said one of Jed’s loyal cowboy friends.

“Oh god that’s gross.”

“Okay so dynamite won’t work, neither will the arrows.” Octavius pondered.  It was then I saw him look behind both Ahkmen and I, right towards Maahes and Seshat. “Wait, I’ve got an idea!”

“Lay it on my Octi.” Said Jed.

“What if the cats help?”

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. What else you got?”

“No, no, no Jedidiah listen my friend. Lions have one of the most powerful voices in all the big cats. If we can get Maahes to roar, then the birds should scatter.”

“Uhh Octavius lions aren’t the only ones with a powerful roar you know.” I told him.

“Ohhh I wouldn’t say that.” Ahkmen said wearily. I turned to him aghast.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean no harm when I say this but Seshat is a young leopard. Maahes is a fully grown lion and his roar is mature enough to scare these pigeons away.” He gently tried to assure me.  I crossed my arms over my chest and said.

“Bullshit!”

“Oh-ho-ho-ho. Looks like we got ourselves a competition ladies and gents.” Jed laughed.

“You hear this baby girl? Ahkmenrah thinks your roar’s not powerful enough.” She lowered her head angrily and let out a snarl as her ears bent back. “Show them what you got baby girl!” she then reared her head back as she opened her mouth and let out a fearsome leopard roar, which sent most of the pigeons out of the miniature wing.

“YEE-HAW!! Come on do it again! Do it again!” Ahkmenrah looked at my cockily before turning to Maahes and said.

“Show these ladies why you’re known as the God of war Maahes.” Maahes then reared his head and let out a loud lion’s roar which sent the rest of the flock right on out.

“WOO-WHO!!! Adios birdbrains!” Jed proclaimed as Maahes and Seshat then proceeded to pounce after the pigeons all over the room.  The birds soon took off flying out of the room trying to find a way out of the building.

“Why not make a little wager?” Ahkmenrah said.

“On what grounds?”

“If Maahes can manage to get the pigeons out, you must sing a song for me.” I tried to hide my blush and I countered.

“Fine, but if Seshat wins, then you have to watch both the Mummy and the Mummy returns, no questions or complaints.”

“Deal.” We shook on it and followed behind the two big cats.

Throughout the museum, Seshat and Maahes continued to chase after the pigeons roaring and swatting at them.  Jed and Octavius were now driving in their racecar catching up to the big cats wanting to get in on the action, cheering loudly at our two big cats.

Meanwhile Ahkmen and I raced behind cheering for both our cats in trying to get as many pigeons as they could.

“You know it’s never too late to back out!” Ahkmen laughed.

“Oh you wish we’re about to show you what girl power is all about!” I sassed at him.  We raced on ahead down the second hall, passing the other exhibits who dodged our path.  

The six of us just having a joy of chasing these pigeons all around the museum.  Nothing could ruin this fun now.

But it was when we turned at one point of the museum that some of the pigeons were on top of the herd of rhinos and African water buffalo.

We all skidded to a stop right before the herd and I couldn’t help but say.

“Ohhhh shit.” One of the water buffalo’s snorted aggressively while a rhino let out a bellow.

At this point all of us including Seshat and Maahes took off running back the other way with the stampede following behind us.  Seshat soon bumped into me and the next thing I knew I was riding on top of her back as she ran faster down the hall.  I turned to see the Ahkmen was riding on top of Maahes’ back.

Both big cats did a sharp turn to the left towards the invertebrate wing while Jed and Octavius were just shortly behind us in the car.  I then noticed a small closet just ahead and I cried out to them.

“Guys in there!” Seshat soon noticed the door and I quickly got off her back and opened the door and soon everyone piled inside. I quickly shut the door and the next thing we heard was the thundering stampede passing by us.

When the thundering of hooves and giant feet stopped, for some reason Ahkmen, Jed, Octavius and I soon just started laughing. I don’t know whether it was the adrenaline of nearly cheating (well in a sense) death, or just for the hell of it but we were all bursting out laughing in the tight closet space.

“That was even more thrilling than the chariot chases I used to do when I was a child.” Ahkmen said.

“Boy you said it Ahk. That there was truly a wild rodeo!” Jed cheered.

“Okay guys, since they’re gone I’d say it’s safe for us to go out.” I told them as I opened the door back up.  And of course due to the tight space with me, an old pharaoh, two big cats and a ford mustang racecar, it was a tight squeeze to try and get out.

As Maahes and Seshat tried to get out, Ahkmen and I were jostled around for a bit, up until the point where our noses touched each other and our lips just barely grazed one another’s.  The two of us chuckled nervously as we couldn’t look away from each other. ��

We were so caught up in the moment that we didn’t realize that we were now the only ones left in the closet.

“You both just gonna stand there all googly eyed or are you finally gonna wring up your saddle and kiss each other already?” we heard Jed proclaim.  We both looked away and apologized over each other as we both tried to get out at the same time, only to bump shoulder to shoulder again.

Finally Ahkmen allowed me to exit the closet first before he was the last to leave.

“I swear you two are as about as crazy in love as two turtledoves in winter.” Jed said again.

“Shut it Jed, less you wanna go back into Seshat’s mouth and maybe even this time see the inside of her stomach.” I threatened.

“No thank you! Thanks for the help you guys see yah!” the car soon quickly drove off leaving Ahkmen and I alone with our big cats.  I looked down at my watch and said.

“It’s an hour till sunrise. You should—”

“Yes. Care to walk me back?”

“Sure.” We first big goodbye to Seshat and Maahes and the two of them walked back towards the hall of African mammals which allowed me to escort Ahkmenrah back to his exhibit.

After helping Ahkmen back into his sarcophagus he then told me.

“Don’t forget, you have to sing for me tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our bet. I’ve been keeping score and Maahes managed to get the most pigeons out of the museum.” I shook my head and rather than argue with him due to time I accepted it.

“Okay. But just know I’m not the best singer.”

“Not according to young Nicky. He said you’d always sing him to sleep, and he’d always talk about how beautiful you sounded.” I tried to hide my blushing face and I said to him.

“Have a good morning sleep Ahkmen. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah. See you tonight.” He said solemnly as his eyes went somber and he lowered himself back into his sarcophagus and I closed it up.  I internally groaned and thought to myself.

‘Damnit why did I have to hurt him like that?’ with that I left Ahkmenrah’s tomb and went off to handle any remaining birds that were still in the museum and clean up the mess before either Dr. McPhee or Rebecca came in.

Later that night I arrived at Ahkmenrah’s tomb with my laptop ready to give into his deal that we had made last night.  After getting him out of his sarcophagus we sat there along the floor while I opened up my playlist.

“So any hints as to what song you shall be singing for me?”

“Uhh no. You may have gotten me to sing for you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be telling you exactly what that song will be.” I sassed playfully.  He grinned at me while I went back to scrolling through my playlist.

“Have you found it yet?”

“Keep your tunic on your highness.” I then clicked on the playlist to highlight the song and I said. “Okay; now this song was written by one of my favorite bands in the start of their early career. This was also the song I used to sing to Nicky whenever he had a bad dream whenever I babysat him.” I double clicked on the song and soon through the speakers, “White Queen (As it begins)” played through the speakers.

I took a gentle inhale in before exhaling and waited for Freddie’s soft voice to come through the speakers before finally singing along to the track.

I sang along softly not quite trusting my voice (also cause I didn’t want to crack in front of my crush) but slowly my voice got a bit more confident when Freddie’s voice crescendo.

*Ahkmenrah’s POV*

Oh almighty Horus and Ra above, she—she had the voice of only a true goddess.  It was so soft yet passionate that it just…..she really was like the Queen in this song.  I have imagined stars in (y/n)’s hair and she was an ethereal of beauty in not just her looks but her kind heart and gentle but fiercely protective nature.

I couldn’t help but fall under the spell of her siren-like voice and just admire her.  Her eyes shining through the faint light that came into my exhibit, the way her medium length hair waved down like the Nile river.  She was everything and more.  By the end of her song, she clicked a key on her laptop and turned to me.

“How was that?”

“Beautiful.” I said in awe. “You—Nicky didn’t even come close to describing the true ethereal of your singing.” She looked away from me shyly and nervously laughed.

Even her laugh, shy or not, was always adorable.  The way her eyes would scrunch up at the corners, when her smile would go ear to ear.  A smile like that really showed me that she was truly happy.  And the way her eyes would sparkle…..it was like seeing the stars in the sky.

“Was it that bad?” she asked me.

“Quite the opposite actually. You sung beautifully.” I told her as I gently took her hand in mine.

*My POV*

As soon as Ahkmen took my hand, my heart went boom.

“Thank you.”

“Tell me what was that song?”

“It’s called White Queen. It’s by my all-time favorite band called Queen.”

“They sounded beautifully.”

“Yeah they do. I love almost all of their songs.”

“Could you show me more?” I nodded and he sat closer to me so that I could scroll through more of my Queen Playlist.  I shared with him some facts that I knew about Queen and showed him some pictures of the band in the past.

“You know Ahkmen, if you grew a mustache or just grew out your hair down to your shoulders and had four additional incisors, you could pass off as Freddie Mercury.”

“You really think so?” he asked me.

“Yeah I could see it.”

“Was he of Egyptian blood?”

“No. His family is Indian Parsi. Freddie was born in Zanzibar.”

“Well regardless. This Freddie Mercury would’ve been revered as a god amongst us. He truly does command his audience like a king.”

“He just knew how to make everyone apart of the show. Even the people in the balconies or in the very far backrow became involved. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any rockstar make everyone feel so comfortable during a concert. God I wish I could’ve seen them live with all four of them in person.”

“He will be remembered as a God and is watching over all of his people. Including the ones who come in later in life.” He comforted me as he placed a hand to my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I sighed softly.  Things got quiet before Ahkmenrah took my laptop and clicked on a random song and soon enough “Good old fashioned lover boy” started playing through my speakers.

“Would you care to dance?” he said as he stood up and held his hand out to me.  I looked up at him and I said.

“I told you I’m not a very good dancer, especially in slow dancing.”

“Well, lucky for you I was forced into taking all those slow dance lessons in my time as Prince. Do you trust me?” I looked up into those soft light blue eyes and along with Freddie’s serenading voice of the opening song, I was literally melting but couldn’t help as I took his hand and answered softly.

“Yes.” He helped me up and right as the chorus began, Ahkmen had us be in position one as his right hand holding my left and his other hand gently wrapping around my waist.

I shivered slightly and looked down at our feet before I felt his finger lift my chin back up.

“Eyes on me. Now just follow me lead.” He then began to lead me into a slow waltz.  Of course it was clumsy at first with me stepping on his foot the first several times.  I softly apologized profusely every time I stepped on his feet but he assured me it was all fine.

The song continued to play and while staring into Akhmen’s eyes I couldn’t help but think just what kind of lover boy he would’ve been.  Would he be like what the song stated? Or was it something else? God why did fate have to be so cruel? The one guy I take an extreme interest in and he has to be a 4000 year old mummy.

It was then I heard the song end and a new song (just to rub salt into an open wound) began playing, and that song was “Love of my Life”.

“(Y/n)?” I looked up at him slightly startled.

“Yeah?” He soon became shy as he spoke.

“These—these past couple of months have been…..well they’ve been the most fun I’ve ever had in 4000 years.”

“I’m glad.”

“You’ve been the one true friend I’ve had ever since I was freed from my prison.” Oh god please tell me I’m not gonna get friend-zoned.  “Unfortunately, I—I cannot deny what I must tell you.”

“What-what exactly are you saying Ahkmen?”

“I—I……” he trailed off trying to look down and hide his shyness.  He genuinely looked conflicted with what he was about to say.

“Ahkmenrah,” I cupped the side of his face. “Whatever you have to say, I won’t get mad.” He didn’t say a word, in fact he leaned closer to my face until his lips captured mine.

It was a shy kiss at first.  He was testing the boundaries of this to see if I would push him away or kiss him back.  I was shocked at first but as soon as my heart hammered in my ears and I fell under the spell of the kiss, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed my lips to his.

Seeing how I accepted the kiss, he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me closer which deepened the kiss.  The anxiety and worries we both had melted away as I heard him let out a soft hum which made me softly moan.

We separated for air but kept in close proximity of each other.  Our noses gently touching each other’s.  I let out a soft choked laugh as I couldn’t make my heart calm down.

“I—” I softly spoke.  I licked my lips softly.  “I love you too, Ahkmenrah. I mean call me crazy but excluding the fact that I’ve known so much about you since the start of my college career. But spending these past couple months with you has been a dream come true. I’ve always wished and dreamed that I could meet you and just talk to you and—” he pressed his finger to my lips stopping my rambling.

“You talk too much my love.”

“You’re right sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re cute when you do that. It shows you’re passionate.” He tucked a strand of my hair out of my face and continued in a teasing tone, “So you’ve dreamed about me?” I giggled.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No. I’m honored. I’m honored that I have gained the affections of the only goddess on Earth.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But I really like you too Ahkmen.” He smiled at me and asked.

“Can I—kiss you again?”

“What do you think?” I said as I leaned in towards him and kissed him now, but this time with more passion just as the song was ending.

#rami malek #rami malek imagine #rami malek imagines #rami malek x reader #rami malek fanfic #ahkmenrah #night at the museum #night at the museum fanfic #night at the museum imagine #night at the museum imagines #night at the museum fanfiction #ahkemrah x reader #ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah imagine #ahkmenrah imagines #rami malek fanfiction

[spotsbis]

92sies spot? Thoughts??

I'm so glad you asked lol

---

Okayyy, at the end of the movie, Spot ends up in Roosevelt's carriage... so imagine: the Roosevelts adopt Spot.

The Rooosevelts already had a bunch of kids ages 2-15 in 1899 (and they all had cool ass names): Alice, Teddy Jr., Kermit, Ethel, Archie, and Quentin. So like, what's one more?

I'm not sure how I feel about Spot leaving Brooklyn because he definitely wouldn't but just like picture all of the Newsies being invited to fancy events at the White House once Roosevelt is president, it would be so chaotic, but also, Spot and the others getting involved in politics and actually having some influence and a voice would be so cool

Most importantly though, Spot deserves his fucking porcelain tub with boiling water and the White House has *checks google* 35 bathrooms

Umm, yeah, First Son Spot, that's literally it, feel free to add on

#also spot in a nice suit #this is lowkey crack #spot conlon #92sies #newsies

[revolutionarytea]

I don't normally like those ask posts but the history one is actually good so I chose 1, 2, 23, and 24 for you!

1 - Historical figure you used to like before you learned more about?

Teddy Roosevelt. Watched Newsies as a kid, thought “he seems cool”, and seemed to have those thoughts confirmed after we learned about him in my history class senior year. But then I read There, There, was pushed to do my own research . . . and yeah. Not a huge fan of him anymore.

2 - Historical figure you love to hate

Andrew Jackson. (I don’t love to hate him, I just don’t like him, but he was the first figure who came to mind)

23 - What country’s history do you know a lot about besides your own? Why and have you been there?

I’ve been learning a lot about Cuba and Chile lately because of my Latin American history class, but I still don’t know a lot about them. I know a fair amount about Ireland and Scotland though, because my dad loves their history, and that’s kind of pushed me to do my own research so that we have something we can talk about. I’ve never been to any of these countries though :( Maybe someday

24 - What made you fall in love with history?

Oof, get ready for a long answer, sorry in advance.

So when I was like 4 or 5 my grandmother got me the Felicity and Elizabeth dolls from American Girl. I read all of their books and became obsessed with learning about the era they lived in. This made me read the other books in the historical series, and I loved reading about all these girls from different parts of history. My parents also made a point of teaching me about my ancestry and the history of my dad’s side of the family so that I would be prepared when the school inevitably taught the wrong information.

Then, as I got older I kind of stopped liking history for a bit. The public school system where I live pretty much only teaches the geography of our state and the Civil War from second to seventh grade (wish I were kidding. It was literally six years of learning the same thing every. single. year. No new information, either. Just the same lessons for six years). I started to think that history was boring, but THEN, then, grade eight came along, and I had the coolest history teacher you can imagine. 

He had jolly rogers hung along the walls of his classroom. (Once, when asked why, he said “I only became a history teacher as an excuse to display them!”) He brought in foods from the different eras we were learning about. There were memes in his powerpoints. We listened to Hamilton. We got to “sacrifice” one of our classmates to the gods. It was so much fun.

And I started to think that maybe, just maybe, history was fun. So the summer between grade eight and the beginning of high school, I spent a good portion of the summer watching period dramas like TURN and doing research on figures that I thought we interesting. I liked history again! And because I wasn’t that great at other subjects, I decided to just put all of my effort and focus into my history classes, and decided that I would go to college and major in the one subject that I had been top of the class in.

So yeah, lol sorry that was way too long, haha. But that’s how I got into history, fell out of love with it, and then fell back into it. 

#and now i might be changing my major! what a twist in the story lol #thanks for the ask! #ask game

[crows-murder]

i know im pretty late with this but this came to me earlier today and i might be overanalyzing the whole thing but at this point i can’t bring myself to care

so people seem pretty upset over 1) Jack running away even as Crutchie calls him to help and 2) Jack chose run to Santa Fe instead of sending the other newsies to the Refuge 

look.

i know we want our main characters to always make right decisions, and face their abusers with confidence and strength, but that’s not how it plays out sometimes. and i’m gonna come out with Inej Ghafa from six of crows to back me up here

so i don’t remember when it takes place exactly, i think as Inej was making her way to the Ferolind and she has an unfortunate run-in with Tante Heleen, who was the one who took Inej to the Menagerie as a forced prostitute before she was saved by Kaz, and in that scene Inej wasn’t the Wraith. she wasn’t strong and confident and cool and collected. no. she froze. she saw her abuser and froze and memories came flooding back. i was expecting Inej to reply confidently, having healed from the pain Heleen inflicted, and instead i got to see a person, human and scared and broken, face to face with her abuser and all her confidence having simply vanished the moment she heard her voice. and honestly? it was so much more realistic and painful, and it made me see that no matter how strong and confident and dangerous Inej was, she sill hadn’t healed from what Heleen made her go through, and how she’s still very much broken and only just began healing.

and that’s immediately what i saw when Jack ran from Snyder instead of fighting him and getting Crutchie out.

come on. you guys saw his face. kudos to Jeremy Jordan for really looking terrified of Snyder. 

unlike Inej, though, he wasn’t traumatized enough to completely freeze, and instead just bolted, trying to get as far away from him as he possibly could. every time Jack comes face to face with Snyder he runs. every time.

look, we don’t go into the details of what goes on at the Refuge, but we can imagine. and Snyder pretty much hates Jack’s guts, so it was probably worse for him, and he was, according to Snyder, a “frequent visitor” so the abuse was frequent over the years. and not only that, but Jack is 17 (so very literally not an adult) and has had received no professional help, just like Inej. like, in those times i have no clue if therapy existed, and it’s not like he had the money to afford it anyway, so all he can pretty much do is heal on his own. and let’s not forget that Jack doesn’t talk about his time at the Refuge. well, not in details. he keeps it to himself, which can’t be all that healthy, but it’s 1899, what do they really know? 

Jack has been physically and emotionally abused by Snyder, and has clearly sustained psychological trauma because of it. of course the poor kid’s gonna run away, and watching Crutchie get dragged off to Refuge was clearly killing him, but he was frozen in place. he could not move. he was probably reliving being dragged off himself to the Refuge so many times. he knows what the Refuge is like. some of the other newsies do too, most likely, but Jack is who they look up to. he would die before sending them to the Refuge. that’s why he chose to try to end the strike. because he would not hesitate to go back to the Refuge if it meant keeping the other newsies safe, but having Snyder arrest every other newsie, his friends, his family, was something Jack would never let happen. no matter what. even if the others would end up hating him for the rest of their lives.

it makes sense, doesn’t it? yeah, he created the union, it was his, everyone looked up to him. but Jack would rather be hated for the rest of his life rather than be the reason they were all sent to the Refuge. do you think he thought of what would happen to them at the Refuge? Davey, Les, Specs, Romeo? His brothers? i think he did. he started the union for them, not just for himself. he’s not gonna let them get sent to the Refuge to be subjected to what he’d been through-- what Crutchie was going through.

Jack runs from Snyder because he can’t fight him. he’s this charismatic, confident, cocky person who’s idolized by all the Lower Manhattan newsies. nothing gets to the famous Jack Kelly, right? well, he escaped on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage. hell, he’s famous. but Snyder gets to him. why? because Snyder can hurt him. Snyder has hurt him. that’s why Jack’s fight or flight gets triggered when he sees him. because Snyder can hurt him and Jack can’t fight back when he does. and no sane person’s gonna fight something that’s yet undefeatable to them. to Jack, in his panicked brain’s reasoning, he can’t ever win against Snyder, he can only run.

we all want to be strong when facing whoever hurt us, but the truth is, we can’t always be. and that goes for fictional characters, too. something that hurt us will trigger fight or flight, and in our panic, we rarely go with fight. we choose flight, because it’s a predator, and the prey can’t win against the predator. because in a panic, we don’t always think straight enough to face something that terrifies us.

#jeremy jordan #jack kelly #newsies broadway #broadway musical #inej ghafa #six of crows

[teaveetamer]

I know there’s racism in portraying black people as monkeys/apes due to old propaganda and good old “scientific” racism that posits black people are “less evolved” and therefore you can mistreat them. Which is gross as fuck. But I’ve never heard anything about bears? I guess they could be complaining about dehumanization but like... drawing the characters as animals is just something fandom does. Chill out. Chances are good the complainers are all white anyway. Hope they cut it out fast.

Yeah I was aware of that connection and agreed it’s absolutely disgusting. Bears though... that threw me for a loop. I’ve literally only ever heard it in connection with gay men and it’s not really an insult. Or like. Theodore Roosevelt (AKA the inspiration that spurred the invention of the Teddy Bear.)

And yeah I think it’s fairly obvious that no one meant any ill will here. The Beardue week was obviously just inspired by Catmitri week, which makes sense since a lot of the Beardue artists like Dimidue and created content for Catmitri week as well.

#Anonymous

[charmed-and-alarmed]

dumb facts about the vice presidents

So I decided to learn all the us vice presidents bc that's the sort of thing I like to do. - there are 48 total VPs

- there is not one VP for every Pres. Some Pres had two or three VPs, either bc they picked a new VP when they ran for the second time, or bc the VP died. 

- some of the VPs served under different presidents. This happened if a) the Pres candidate liked whoever was VP at the time b) bc they didn’t want to bother finding someone new to run with or c) a Pres had run with a VP who then died while in office, forcing the Pres to pick a new VP who, come next election, would run with a new candidate who went on to win the election. I know that’s confusing: if I had a better way of phrasing this, I would. 

eg. George Clinton was Jefferson’s VP during his second term (bitch dumped Burr’s ass as soon as he could, after having passed an amendment that would let him pick his own VP this time) AND was the VP for Madison’s first term up to his death in 1812

- speaking of picking a new VP - until the 25th Amendment was passed, if a VP became Pres bc the Pres died, they could not pick a VP for themselves. Therefore, at many points in US history there has been no VP

- bc these guys were only Pres due to the former Pres dying, and were never re-elected, 4 Pres never had a VP at all: Tyler, Fillmore, Johnson, Arthur

e.g. Chester A Arthur was the VP for James Garfield, who went and got assassinated in 1881, just a couple months after his inauguration. This made Arthur the new Pres from 1881-1885 with no VP of his own. Arthur didn’t run in 1885, which means that for his whole term as Pres, he had no VP (they also thought he was secretly Canadian but I digress....)

- only 3 VPs were ever elected the VP then, after finishing their term, were elected Pres: Adams, Jefferson, and then also Nixon for some reason

- speaking of Nixon, he is the only one with a gap between his time as VP and as Pres. Nixon was VP for Eisenhower, then several terms went by before he was elected Pres. So it looks like

Eisenhower/Nixon -> Kennedy/LBJ -> LBJ/Humphrey -> Nixon/Agnew

Yes, the slashes make this weird. it’s supposed to

- only two VPs resigned from office

1) John C Calhoun, who has served as VP for both John Quincy Adams and Jackson. Apparently he didn't get along with Jackson (something about Petticoats and maybe something to do with statehood?), so he just went and resigned.

2) Spiro Agnew, VP for Nixon. Now Agnew, he resigned to avoid being impeached. The story of what happened is BONKERS (and I may tell it at some point) but the tldr is that, while the Watergate hearings were happening in the summer of 1975, some meddling kids (young prosecutors) uncovered a huge bribery scheme Agnew had been part of since before he was even gov of Maryland. 

Mind you, this was 100% totally unrelated to Watergate. Agnew was a criminal in his own right, bc he'd been accepting money in manila envelopes in the White House basement. Queue the AG/Dems freaking the fuck out bc Nixon was about to be impeached, and holy shit this guy couldn't become president. He was already the Dems worst nightmare come to life (a racist asshole whose racist bullshit started the GOPs descent into extreme conservatism) but he was literally about to be a convincted felon. What followed was a truly spectacular race to get Agnew to resign before Nixon got himself impeached 

Spiro Agnew deserves a post of his own bc this is only the tip of the yikesburg. But yeah, he also resigned

- Abraham Lincoln's VP was a guy named Hannibal Hamlin. Andy Johnson, the guy everyone remembers as his VP, only had the job for (I shit you not) ONE MONTH. Inauguration was March 1865, assassination happened in April 1865 #thatsroughbuddygif

- only one VP has ever been the sole, specific target of an assassination plot (meaning they were after him specifically and not the Pres): Thomas Marshall. This is the part where I should have a fun fact about him, but I keep forgetting to look him up. I know it's not the same Marshall from the Marshall plan tho, so do with that what you will

- speaking of assassinations, gotta give a shout-out to VP Teddy Roosevelt bc, when McKinley was shot, he was so convinced the Pres would survive that he went ahead and went on vacation. Guess he forgot that medicine in the 1900s was usually either useless or actively harmful. Also forgot that this EXACT thing happened to Garfield less than 20 years earlier, and he'd died from infections caused by unclean, crappy doctors. 

- lastly, two honorable mentions in the naming dept: Adlai Stevenson I (Cleveland’s VP in his second, nonconsecutive term) and  Schuyler Colfax (first VP for Grant and a classic example of a kid saddled with their mother’s last name as a first name)

these are facts about the vice presidents. 

#aaron burr shit posts #vice presidents #american history #need me a history tag #yeah i know i barely mention burr but i want to keep everything together #plz someone ask me about spiro agnew #or the teapot dome scandal #or watergate tbh #i have SO MANY THINGS TO SAY

[ebficnotes]

Lorebook notes on Worm Saga

Mannimarco’s manifesto taken at face value.  With copious comparisons to certain Summerset content, fair warning.

Text taken from UESP

Collection:

  Words of the Poets

Found in the following locations:

  Bookshelves in Deshaan, Grahtwood and Stormhaven

Worm Saga

by Mannimarco

Rhyming autobiography of Mannimarco

His actual name is on here! He’s openly a necro, worm reference and all. He is out, loud, and proud and is making zero attempts to hide it. At least for whenever this note is supposed to have taken place.

Mage from infancy, blood-selected for magicka, descended from isles of Artaeum forever! Destined was I from long before birth to exceed all mortals.

   Blood-selected - Actually born on Artaeum to Psijic parents, or otherwise powerful mages. Which could be legit because why not? Was a child prodigy of course. Yeah right, every power tripper says that. Or maybe it’s true, who knows?

  My pet theory is he’s actually not that great a caster, at least not at first. A common theme of necromancy in TES seems to be empowering people who can’t get it any other way. Manny himself complains in [world of corpses] and [oblivion book?] about his practice always drawing the lowest common denominator and it does, both morally and aptitude-wise. Not every one of course, but an awful lot. Also, a huge part of the practice is reanimating servants/helpers to fight for you, presumably because you are all alone and somehow summoning bones is easier than pulling Daedric servants out of Oblivion? So, Necromancy is a path for people who have an iron will and can-do attitude but don’t have the raw magic skill or reserves needed to fling fireballs at shit. It’s a power that suits the weak. Which is kinda cool/egalitarian if you think about it. Maybe Manny is like a necro teddy Roosevelt.

  Destined long before birth - May allude to his future godhood, if during the dragon break he could see himself as the necro-moon. Or just garden-variety destiny schitk.

  Forever - could be a fun theory that as a future god, he forevermore engineers it so he always is born in the best possible place for him to succeed and re-become a god every kalpa. Which means that, at some point, he was NOT born on Artaeum, but somewhere else. Maybe.

Altmer? Nay, Aldmer: scion of et'Ada by direct descent, summoned to Ceporah, and there was I sent: to Iachesis, to tutor, to test and ferment.

  Unless there are actual Aldmer on Artaeum, this probably refers to growing up among the practiconers of the old ways, i.e. not being brainwashed by the watered down faith on the mainland. He equates faith in the old ways as equivalent to being descended from the gods. Probably literally too, given his obsession with becoming a god.

  And/or, he can actually trace his ancestry all the way back to the Aldmer who first founded Artaeum. And why not? If he was born on Artaeum, he certainly could be this as well. The Psijics are both collectively old as fuck and consist mainly of massively inbred High Elves after all.

  Summoned to Ceporah - Just because you are born on Artaeum doesn’t mean you are automatically a Psijic. He has to run the gauntlet just like everyone else. I did always get the impression from past lore that Artaeum was more like a college town than a monastic hideaway in its own right. Like, the monastery is the big draw, but the local economy is made up of non-Psijics as well, maybe family of the actual monks, etc. Too bad we don’t get to see that in ESO at all.

Also sounds like he was asked to come directly. Like Ulfric Stormcloak with the Graybeards in Skyrim? I feel a type coming on…

  Iachesis was his mentor too, just like Vanus. Is Iachesis the defacto mentor for everyone, like a distant professor who fobs his students off on teaching assistants, or was he personal with it? I need to play Summerset again to get a better read on his character, because I didn’t pay enough attention at the time.

No magicka handler Iachesis Ritemaster, sage of the Elder Way, gentle spellcaster! To warp not the wind, unlike guild of the latter day, courting disaster.

  No magicka handler? Not a cowboy maybe? Cool and calm under pressure, poised, dispassionate, etc. Not reckless or showy.

  Sage of the elder way: Immense power that he refuses to use, in the name of Psijic neutrality? Manny admires Iachesis here, says he is a true believer who walks the walk. Lore says that Iachesis is famous in song and story too though, so this could also just be name-dropping.

  To warp not the wind. Winds of change? Psijic Neutrality and their mandate to study Change (which apparently also goes by ‘Sithis’ too, take that as you will). Iachesis is good at staying out of stuff that’s not his business - unlike the mages guild (the only guild he’d care about). Might be that Iachesis didn’t mess with Manny until Vanus insisted. In the 3rd and 4th memories in traitor’s vault, it really does sound like Vanus is the only one who gives a shit about his actions. “You’ll pay for this eventually”? Like prosecuting murder - or even plain old necromancy - in that place is an uphill battle.

  Courting disaster - This whole thing could be a dig at Vanus’s worm hunts, as seen in that memo on soul trapping! He’s telling Vanus to butt the fuck out, comparing Vanus to his beloved mentor Iachesis - who he name drops every chance he gets despite his giving him  the finger and leaving on his own - and telling him he’s coming up short. Maybe the mages guild/Vanus threw the first punch, and Manny is telling him to back off before he gets Really Mad. Who else do we know who’s a magicka cowboy Rambo wannabe who literally rides the lightening? Magicka handler lol.

It could also be that Mannimarco is a traditionalist about magic being an isolated and/or solitary practice, and not a big public institution like Vanus has done. Which would explain his cult set up and his penchant for caves and isolation in general, despite supposedly being some big shot politico and man-about-town.

Necromancy, death art, chose me stern and fast. To change not the present, but call up the past, obverse of Elder Way, forbidden without cause, deep-delved in death’s way, against Gray Cloak laws.

  Death-art - whatever his rationale for it, he was drawn to dead shit from the beginning. He’s a true blue death fetishist. Or maybe just an especially creative and socially minded taxidermist? He’s even a friggin bone-sculptor, as shown with that bone-golem in the vault. Or maybe he’s just tes’s answer to morbid goth guys lol. See HERE and HERE for bone and taxidermy art. Because that’s a thing of course.

  Call up the past - would be fun if this alludes to the RL necromancy practice of psychics and such channeling the dead to talk to them. Also/is another reference to the “True” old ways. Maybe lost knowlege of the ancestors? Knowledge so old that even the Psijics have forgotten it? That library again…

  Obverse, forbidden w/out cause - he claims that necromancy is a natural part of the old ways and he deliberately flouts their unjust rules against it. And the general way this game treats necromancy suggests to me that he isn’t completely full of shit about this. Also the Old Ways as a religion is said to be ancestor worship. Who else do we know who practices a form of necromancy under the guise of ancestor worship? Makes me wonder if Manny and Veloth would have been bros, at least on some points. Or not. I know the Tribunal hate necromancy, but I don’t know if OG Veloth’s stance on it was the same or not. Of course, the Morrowind stance on necromancy i believe, was “if its not Dunmer, it’s fair game”, so maybe yes?

  To change not the present? A big part of tes lore is the mostly undisputed fact that everyone on Nirn from a worm (lol) to a sabrecat to the emperor himself was at some point descended from the original god-spirits that formed the mortal plane itself. I.e. every living thing in tes is a god-baby and theoretically, everyone can re-become a god if they have the stones to try. Maybe this is where he and Vanus split views? Vanus wants to improve the world for future generations by making magic accessible, while Mannimarco is a tes-style gnostic who only cares about magic in as much as it lets him and any like-minded types get back to heaven. He doesn’t consider any atrocities he or his order commits as anything special because the world was fucked from the start. And the Psijics don’t bother to lock him up (which they are totally ok with doing when it serves their purposes, see Val’s husband) is because he’s partially right? Oooh boy…

Ill-timed then arrived one, Trechtus by name: ambitious, obstreperous, blind and deaf to shame, talented, reckless, thought himself my equal, his arrogance and envy determined our sequel.

  Ill timed - he was already actively studying necromancy and flouting Psijic authority when Vanus shows up like a bull in a china shop. This is funny because Vanus is 11 years old when he first arrives there. Wtf  is a shy 11 year old kid gonna do, even if he is a super-mage? Gotta say though, I think the idea of kid!Vanus holding his own in a philosophical pissing match against a 900+ year old Mannimarco is the greatest thing ever.

  Even funnier, that first vault memory shows Vanus at least in his 16-20’s if not older (so they’ve known each other a while now?) and makes them look downright friendly to each other. Vanus’s exclaimation and exceedingly casual “come let’s explore” makes it sound like they were the first two in the door. Guess it’s ‘ill timed’ in the 20/20 hindsight sense? He thought Vanus would be a good bet but he wasn’t. Hell, maybe Manny thought that Vanus would be interested in godhood too because of his shit life experiences, but Vanus is either too optimistic about the world or too grossed out by the necro shit to get on board. Or something else?

  Those vault scenes diverge from MQ Mannimarco in several different ways. They almost feel mundane, like whatever their disagreement was, it was literally about undead drones and nothing more. No godhood, no anything. There’s a mention of him murdering his classmates, but that feels weak somehow. My first thought in fact was they ripped this off of Nelacar’s quest in Skyrim, right down to the dead students, only they didn’t do as good a job explaining it. Maylen was driven crazy by Azura. What’s Manny’s reason? Sociopathy? Yeah maybe, but it still feels like a copout. Or an opportunity lol. Half formed understandings and all.

  Arrogance and envy - arrogance yeah. Vanus barging in waving a bible around shouting about good and evil - something that Manny’s hardcore old ways don’t acknowledge. Envy though? Vanus is a legit extremely powerful mage and the other smartest guy on the island. Manny himself is saying so here, so envy over what?

   His shyness? That load screen for the vault and Vastarie’s note suggests that the order lost a LOT of people when they booted Manny out. Maybe Manny already had a solid following on Artaeum and Vanus wasn’t nearly as charismatic, i.e. Manny has all the followers and Vanny doesn’t. Or just garden-variety wallflower shit. Him and Manny are friends but all the girls/guys want Manny or whatever.

  Power envy? That doesn’t seem to jive with the Vanus we meet in the game. He’s an overly boastful and/or massively insecure little shit that needs a good spanking (and would probably love it lol), but he doesn’t seem selfish like that to me. And what is “power” but either material resources or influence over other people? He’s got resources to spare now, and as said above, he is intelligent and magically powerful in his own right, so social/political shit is all that’s left. So we’re back to shyness.

  Could be just Manny slandering him, but I like to think there’s an element of truth to all his lies, since he’s supposed to be a very good liar and that’s how you lie good. Besides, this is a poem and poems are supposed to be all about feelings, right?

  Could be him projecting here too I guess, i.e Vanus was really the popular/smart one, and psychological shit doesn’t need to make sense to be true.

Class envy? now that would both make sense and be a nasty one for both of them, and would fit with his next line too.

  Obstreperous = loud/crass/graceless. He’s either calling Vanny inelegant because of his low class former life, which would be really shitty of him, or calling him willfully disrespectful of the Order’s mores of poise and grace, or literally just a clumsy, awkward little fucker.

  Or hell, all three. He’s really pissed isn’t he? Mannimarco himself doesn’t seem all that inclined to shame either, go figure. Notice how every word he uses could just as easily be used to describe himself. MQ Mannimarco certainly is ambitious, reckless, and loud. They’re like caricatures of each other.

  Thought himself my equal. Well Manny sure as hell treats him like one!  Oops.

  Trechtus - Vanus’s old serf’s name. How did Manny learn this? And the fact that he is lowborn? That Orc in the delve says the Psijics discourage talking about their former lives and Vanus also doesn’t appear to tell anyone about his past except his closest, whoever they are. His Artaeum lost says “those of you who know me well.” -Hermaeus mora’s anachronistic book dropping notwithstanding.

  Also, entertainers/bards/etc. are an artistic class, so as a member, Vanus wouldn’t be seen as low in Altmer society. Except Vanus was not an entertainer, he was an errand boy. But I think that entertainers are one of the few ways of social mobility that exist in Summerset. That house of revelries lets anyone join I think. So he could have just as easily been an apprentice, or in the running to be, if he hadn’t joined the Psijics. He was only eight years old when they found him and they kept him around for three whole years instead of just dumping him into an orphanage, so he must have been good for something. Mannimarco could have coaxed the name and what she knew of his history out of Heliand I guess. Or Maybe that shit hold was/is infamous to the resident npcs and we don’t get to read about it. Or Vanus could have told Manny himself…

Magic he practiced: open, raw power, flouted the Elder Way, endangered the tower, then with lowborn cunning cast me as the villain, engineered exile, made me Tamrielan.

  Endangered the tower?- Vanus is supposed to be a one of the most powerful mages on the planet. Maybe he’s saying Vanus threw a fit and almost burned down the dreaming cave. I can def see Vanus doing something like that, even if accidently. He doesn’t have the greatest judgement around personal squicks, even 300 years later.

  Flouted elder way - messing with whatever Manny was doing down there instead of butting out like a good Psijic? Vanus later claims the tower shook at their arguing - not at Manni’s ritual. He didn’t cast him as the villain there even with every opportunity and incentive to do so, so maybe it’s legit. I find it hard to believe Vanus hasn’t seen this little missive either. This appears long before his “Artaeum lost” does. Btw, I love the idea that the tower is actually sapient/sentient enough to express an opinion on the weird little dudes inside it having a tiff.

  Or more boringly, Vanus’s tower “lurching” could a euphanism for their fight, Which to me just makes Vanus look even worse here. I.e. he’s admitting in Artaeum lost that he DID start the fight alluded to here and almost burnt down the dreaming cave, by trying to be all vague and poetic about it.

  Lowborn cunning - refers to the prejudice in Summerset of the lowest castes being morally degenerate.  He’s saying that Vanus is ghetto-trash talking lies about his betters to get his own way. Think how Republicans (USA) often talk about welfare recipients. Ouch. That is a low fucking blow damn. Vanus would NEVER forgive him for pulling that card I don’t think.

  Or at least not before decorating his basement with the intestines of every worm cultist within portal calling distance lol. Maybe this is the impetus for those attacks in his soul gem note! Vanus may hate necromancy, but he has zero issue with violence in general. After all, that dremora calls his and Vanus’s mission an orgy of destruction. Coming from one of Molag bal’s, that’s really saying something.

  In very slight sympathy for the devil though, if Vanus did start that fight and did blame Mannimarco for fucking up the tower and thus getting him expelled, then I can see why he would call him probably the nastiest insult you could call a person in Summerset. He’s pissed remember?

  He’s already condemming Vanus for bowing to what he probably considers religious whitewashing by both the Altmer and his former order, why not a lowborn liar while he’s at it? And given the Psijics themselves are, in the Altmer pecking order, socially/symbolically above even kings and other heads of state, it’d be weird for him NOT have been exposed to those ideas growing up, even among the egalitarian Psijics. In his mind, Vanus doing what he did probably confirmed every prejudice he’s ever heard about the lower casts. [I may do more on this later. Talk about a can of worms…]

  Engineered exile? Seems like he’s saying Vanus got him kicked out on purpose by starting a fight in the tower and then blaming him for the fallout. In all the other sources though (including the last vault scene), Vanus appears to NOT have wanted Mannimarco to be let loose on Tamriel, his fault or not. So this is either gross misunderstanding or just lying through his teeth to push even more hate for the mages guild, as if necros didn’t already have enough reason for that, or he’s once again, just really pissed and resentful. He may not sound too torn up about leaving Artaeum in those scenes, but getting thrown out probably wasn’t in his plans either. Or some combo of all the above, because that’s where the truth often is.

All undervalued my will and resolution, my knowledge formidable, my wit and acumen. Thus found I new allies to study the death-rites, the sacrifice rituals, the summons of ghost-wights.

  Seems to be claiming that he did have a solid network on Artaeum, but when he got kicked out, they abandoned him and he had to start again from scratch. Sounds like a sympathy lie considering Vastarie’s note and that loadscreen, unless all those people who left Artaeum left, not to follow him directly, but because these events exposed the hypocrisy of the order on both sides and so they decided to go off and do their own thing.

  I found new allies: so poor Manny is all alone now and just want’s some new necro friends, awww. I can imagine Vanus’s own guild recruiting poster being nearly identical to this, persecution complex and all. IS there a Guild recruiting poster somewhere like this?

Robed all in black goes the Order of Black Worm, bringing wisdom to seekers who see beyond death-term, but Trechtus-now-Vanus pursues us to continent, to persecute worm-wrights his evil intent.

All in black - yeah goth boy lol. I bet he dyed his Psijic robes black too. Though he does go through a red phase at some point 😁

  Bringing wisdom - sounds like missionaries. So he’s mister goodwill here, now committed to bringing forbidden knowledge to anyone who wants it.

  See beyond death-term - the science of Undeath, or just being willing to work with the dead in general  maybe. It’s weird: in  gameplay we talk with, summon, and use tons of spirits, trapped and otherwise, and the npcs aknoledge them too, and i guess this isn’t considered necromancy? Maybe becasue they’re allready trapped down here anyway, so it don’t count? Or maybe it is and its just not called that? I’ve heard some people eat fish but claim to be vegetarians after all.

  Trechtus now Vanus - ooh outing him. Is directly calling Vanus an evil crusader who’s persecuting him and his religion. And of course he’s making Vanus’s leaving Artaeum all about himself, pegging his leaving to follow him and persecute him for for his beliefs, and not because Vanus himself was dissatisfied with things on Artaeum. Depending on how you see Vanus though, this may or may not have an element of truth. Also, there’s at least one lorebook that suggests Vanus used this line of thought to get his guild chartered in Firsthold, nevermind fucking Kinlord Rills himself was a necro. He sure knows how to pick’em doesn’t he?

Come, all necrotics, defend practice and life, against Mages who wield magicka like a knife, heedless of heresy and ignorant of Elder Way, hating necromancy yet heralding doomsday.

  Heedless of heresy - he’s definitely pegging his thing as a legit religion. Calling Mages with a capital M, no shit who he’s talking about here. Calling the guild and it’s anti-necromancy stance a heresy against the Old Ways. Wow.

  Wield like a knife - the guild mages are the ones cutting and doing harm, while he and his are just trying to defend their way of life. This may imply that Vanus has been making life hard for necros long before that mess with Bal goes public, otherwise what reason would already isolation-inclined hedge-mages like his ilk want with what seems to be just another magic club with its own set of problems? According to UESP, this thing is found in the capital cities, so it seems to be meant as a sort of recruiting poster for the Worm Cult. Something had to make those unaffiliated necros think this was the better deal.

  Heralding doomsday sounds like boilerplate end times shit but idk. He says this in “later” works too and I never could make heads or tails of it. There isn’t any Christian style Apocalypse in tes as far as I know. There’s that “second coming of Talos” stuff in Skyrim, but that is long after Tiber Septim ascends. As far as I know, he didn’t push that stuff himself.

  Awful Thought: what if Vanus’s persecution leads Manny to step up his godhood timetable by trying to mantle Molag Bal instead of just waiting around for Zurin Arctus to lose his mojo? Holy shit. (Assuming he actually remembers that bit in his dragon-break experience anyway.)

  Another awful thought: Vanus and his guild are directly responsible in lore for normalizing daedra summoning and conjuration. Daedra summoning is heavily linked to daedra worship in general, and as we all know, those princes don’t need much of an excuse to break Sohta’s no-meddling agreement, or at least to bs their way around it. Maybe Manny is accusing Vanus of tempting fate just as much as he is, by giving the people at large the ability to contact Oblivion. Heck, given his focus on bone-puppets and escape-proof soulgems, Manny might even think of necromancy as the “safer” form of conjuration!

Yet heralding doomsday? Maybe it’s not doom in the RL sense of the word? Doom in tes has a different meaning in lore, though I’m not really clear on it. I don’t think its entirely negative though.

Child of Nirn ponder, which would you choose: tyranny of mages, restricting spell use, or necromancy, communion with thy dead, ancestors returned, generations reunited?

  He’s in direct competition with the mages guild here. Follow Vanus and have to hide who you are, or follow him and practice among like-minded fellows. Awww. And given Vanus’s incredibly easy to misinterpret stance, if not outright lie, about soul gems, he’s got a lot of potential followers from this - me included, oy. What can I say? Freedom of information, man. Dammit Vanus, stop making me go dark side!

  Communion with thy dead, ancestors, etc. RL necromancy yay! He is, or at least appears to be, a proper old school believer, at least on some fronts, appealing to all those marginalized necros, or necro-curious, who want a community but are clearly not welcome in Vanus’s shiny new guild.

Other Thoughts:

  This reminds me of RL minority religious practices like voodoo and Santeria, that are vastly perceived as not good by mainstream (white/christian/western) society, but are actual religious beliefs with a long history. And even a vilified one. Has there EVER been a movie or TV show that cast voodoo in a good light?

I have no idea if tes necromancers actually deserve the hate or not. We sure as hell don’t see much in-game to suggest they aren’t anything but bad news, especially the worm cult itself, but whatever. That’s what fic is for I guess.

#book notes #vanus galerion #mannimarco #tes #eso #worm cult #mages guild #tes religion #analysis #speculation #mine

[connorswhisk]

reasons why the night at the museum trilogy = the best movies ever made

the entire concept is just fucking brilliant

a museum? that comes to life at night? HELL yeah

ben stiller plays an idiot with no sense and we can all relate to that

it’s one of those kids movies that isn’t just obnoxiously for children. it’s legitimately a good movie with some hilarious humor.

it wasn’t just created to sell toys

the cast? is literally all-star???

robin williams plays teddy roosevelt

accurate portrayal of historical figures

casting a native actress to play sacagawea instead of a white woman

casting an egyptian actor to play an egyptian character

RAMI MALEK

the fact that ahkmenrah was built up to be a big scary villain but then when he takes off the bandages he’s literally a baby

dexter the monkey

building up a relationship between two historical figures from two different time periods that didn’t feel super forced

the tiny figurines

“how’d you like it if I called you ‘tiny?’” “I don’t like it. it hurts my feelings.”

“I just call you larry.” “don’t be a kiss-ass.”

dick van dyke kicking ass

ahk knows english because he was on display at cambridge university

everything atilla says is complete improvised gibberish

THE EASTER ISLAND STATUE

the scene when jedediah and octavius stab the tires and it keeps cutting from them almost being blown away to the car hissing quietly from a distance? legit the funniest scene in any movie ever.

giving the cowboy a line from brokeback mountain

because he’s gay

yeah jed and octavius definitely had a thing behind the scenes

amelia earhart being badass and gay in the second movie

“you can’t catch the light.” “it’s as elusive as human happiness.” this script did not need to go that hard

when they went inside the painting

when larry left his phone inside the painting

when the lincoln memorial came to life

the tuskegee airmen

darth vader and oscar the grouch

when octavius tried to go to the white house to get obama to help and then came back on a squirrel

literally all of kahmunrah’s dialogue. oh my god.

larry and the flashlight

jed and octy stabbing people in the shoes

the dance parties at the end of every movie

“what does the tablet do.” “actually, it has a magical power that causes the entire museum to come to life at night.” “no really. what does it do.” “...nothing, it’s just for decoration.”

caveman ben stiller

the whole scene where larry is talking to ahkmenrah’s parents about jewish people

the vents

the pompeii scene is so great because a) it takes them forever to figure it out and b) they cut perfectly from them laughing to them running for their lives

dan stevens as lancelot

“HUGE ACKMAN??”

tilly and laa

laa having to make a serious decision between holding the door or eating the packing peanuts

lancelot’s nose

“I’ll take that hand now.”

larry and dexter kissing

tilly and laa doing the bit from dirty dancing

attila knew english the whole time

rami malek dancing

“smile my boy. it’s sunrise.” LIKE FUCK

anyway

night at the museum really was the peak of entertainment you can’t change my mind

#night at the museum #natm #natm memes #night at the museum memes #my post