#and also that year i got strep four times and ALSO that was the year my ocd became a whole thing so overall not a great year for me!

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

chickenpox vaccines

[positivexcellence]

Jared Padalecki Reflects on His 24-Year TV Run (‘I’m Pretty Tired’) and What’s Not Next After Walker Ends

“I’m grateful. Like, I’m not digging ditches. I’m not doing Red Cross work and saving human beings. But yeah, I’m pretty tired,” Padalecki says, adding that he’s “a little disillusioned about the state of the industry that I’ve loved and been employed with for 24 years. So I have a lot of thinking to do, and I have a lot of time to be with my wife and our kids, my friends, and think about where this industry is.”

Below, Padalecki opens up about Walker’s cancellation and why he doesn’t see another long-running TV series in his future.

TVLINE | Obviously, Supernatural was on a lot longer than Walker, but you were an executive producer on Walker, and you seemed to really bond with not only the cast but also the character of Cordell. So how has this letting go experience compared to that of Supernatural for you? With my experience on Gilmore Girls and Supernatural, we found ourselves in a similar situation, like around Seasons 3 and/or 4, where we were on the bubble, or there was a network change, or the head of the network changed, or there was a strike, or et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. So we didn’t know if we’d make it, and in both cases, the network believed in us and let us go as long as we wanted, and now, they’re like two of the top 10 most watched shows on Netflix, worldwide, every year. So I kind of, stupid me, I was hoping and assuming the same might happen… I knew there was a chance. There’s always a chance that the show’s not going to go, but I was like, “Well, we’re still the most watched. We’re not expensive.” So I didn’t know what to expect, and I haven’t yet had time to have closure with Walker.

With Supernatural, Jensen [Ackles] and I talked about it in our trailers on set for years, or during conventions in the green room, or at home, or flying together, or whatever, playing golf. We’d talk about it, and finally, Season 14, we kind of looked at each other, and we were like, “Hey, you know what, I think it’s time to go back to our families.” “Yeah, I think you’re right.” So we met with [CW President] Mark Pedowitz and said, like, “Hey, we’re going to do Season 15, but that’s it.” So we had a couple years, and we, ultimately, made the decision. I left Gilmore Girls to do Supernatural. Jensen and I decided to go ahead and let Supernatural end and give it a good send-off.

That was not the same situation with Walker, obviously. So I’m still kind of dealing with it, to be honest with you. I love the show. I’m so grateful for the four years that we had. I think back to during the pandemic, we were one of the first shows to go back to filming after COVID. We shot in October of 2020, and it was still masks and six feet away. There was just so much everybody went through: car accidents, and more COVIDs, and strep, and flu, and births, and deaths, and marriages, and divorces, and another strike, and this and that. So we had gone through so much together. We had weathered so many storms that I figured we had a lot more storms to weather. It’s not the way it worked out. But right now, I’m really focusing on how grateful I am, and will forever be, for the time I got to spend on Walker.

TVLINE | Given the circumstances, how do you feel about how the series ended and how the storylines were left off in the finale? To the credit of CW and CBS [Studios], when we shot the finale, when it was written, we didn’t know whether or not we were going to go for a fifth or further season, and they did not push us to try and wrap things up in a tidy little bow, which would’ve been really bad storytelling and a really bad episode. They kind of said, “Write the best episode you can. We don’t know if it’s going to go five years, or 10 years, or 30 years, or four years. So make it the best you can.” We knew, and [showrunner] Anna [Fricke] knew, and Blythe Ann Johnson knew — they wrote the finale together — that it was possible [it would end]. So when I think back on the finale, I think whether it was the end of Season 4 or the end of Season 104, I would’ve wanted all the characters to have a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, something to look forward to. And so, all the characters get a send-off and a salute of sorts, but it feels like a proper episode of television. It doesn’t feel like, “Oh, they are in a diner, and let’s just turn the cameras off.” But again, it’s so difficult to end. When you fall in love with a character, or several characters, or a story, for 69 episodes, like how do you end it?

So I’m grateful that we were able to create the best episode that we could without any incumbrances of like, “You better make sure everybody dies, or everybody gets a new job,” or something. Because how could you possibly end the story of all the Walkers and all their friends and been like, “Oh, yup, cool, don’t need to see them anymore”? Like, no matter how it ended, I would’ve wanted to see more of them, and so I’m very proud of the episode.

TVLINE | You went from Gilmore Girls straight to 15 seasons of Supernatural to Walker. Are you exhausted yet? I was exhausted 20 years ago. [Laughs] I am. I am exhausted. When I found out that Walker was not going to go for a fifth season, that was on a Tuesday, and I left for Europe on a Friday, part work, part fun. But I was in Europe for like three and a half weeks with family and a little bit of work, a lot of travel. So I’ve only been in the United States four days in the last month, and so, I haven’t really had time to fully grasp it. But yes, I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m grateful. Like, I’m not digging ditches. I’m not doing Red Cross work and saving human beings. But yeah, I’m pretty tired. I’m a little disillusioned about the state of the industry that I’ve loved and been employed with for 24 years. So I have a lot of thinking to do, and I have a lot of time to be with my wife and our kids, my friends, and think about where this industry is.

I haven’t had time to really reassess my life. I got into this industry when I was 17 years old on Gilmore Girls, and I, at the time, had my school schedule for UT Austin, and so, I thought I was going to do a couple episodes and go back to UT and pay off some student loans or something. That was 24 years ago, so I haven’t really had the time. And even during the writers’ strike in ’08, we were just waiting for it to end to go back and shoot Supernatural. The pandemic in 2020, I was just waiting for it to end, so I could go finish Supernatural and start Walker. The writers’ strike last year, just waiting for it to end, so we could pick up Walker.

I was in Europe for a while, and people would come up and take a picture and get an autograph or whatever and [ask], “So what’s next?” and for the first time in my entire life, I was like, “I don’t know.” “Oh, well, surely you have stuff. What’s next?” I was like, “Well, I don’t know.” They’re like, “Oh, you can’t tell us.” “No, no. It’s not I can’t tell you. I don’t have a job waiting for me,” which I’ve never said that in my adult life. So it’s interesting, and I’m going to surround myself with family and friends and loved ones, and try and figure out if I have anything else to offer that people want, and if I can be of service in storytelling, somehow, some way, then I guess I’ll put my proverbial cowboy hat back on and saddle up.

TVLINE | When you’re ready, though, do you imagine that you will want to do another TV series? I don’t think so. I don’t mind long TV, but I’ve heard it said many times, and I agree, that hour-long episodic television is the hardest job in the industry. If you’re Elijah Wood in Lord of the Rings, and it’s three three-hour long movies or whatever, it’s still like 18 months, you know? There’s an end in sight. With TV shows, sometimes it lasts 15 years, and sometimes they say, “Hey, where do you live? OK, we’re shooting in Vancouver.” You say, “But my family, my wife and kids are in Austin.” Like, “Well, good for them. They can come move up here. Here’s a thousand bucks to fly them out.” It’s not for the weak-spirited. Like, you really have to sacrifice a lot, and I’ve sacrificed everything I have to sacrifice for many, many years, and I think I’m at a point in my life where I want to spend more time with my wife and kids. If a job on a TV show comes up, like I’ve talked to Kripke about The Boys stuff, like, “Yeah, I’ll come play with you for a month. Yeah, I’ll come play with you for two months, for six weeks, or whatever,” or, “Yeah, I’ll come pop in a week out of every month for the next three months.”

But a classic TV contract is a six-year contract. My oldest son is 12, my middle son is 10, my daughter is seven. So if I sign a six-year contract, and they’re filming in Alaska, then I miss my son getting a driver’s license, I miss him graduating high school, I miss his first girlfriend or boyfriend, his first heartbreak, his basketball games, I miss my other son’s driving test, I miss my daughter turning into a teenager, and then I’m leaving [my wife] Gen, too. It’s a big commitment. So I don’t foresee myself doing that unless, again, it was in Austin, and I was the executive producer that could be involved in knowing the show and making sure the cast and crew all did it in as efficient a way as possible.

TV LINE

[mcalhenwrites]

I didn't expect to struggle so much with these Geckos side stories. Two of them have been finished for years - I wrote them not long after the first draft of Geckos - but I'm struggling with the ones focused on Kieran. One of them is "Late Returns" - I need to finish it. But doing that has been tricky for some reason. This happened with Xavier stories too, but it's hard for me to always keep up with the same humor of a story for long? And that one has a lot of humor. The other Kieran story is when he's an adult. I may just have to shorten it. The Rosalia one is kind of messy, but I'm not too worried about it. That said, I was supposed to finish all the drafts by the time June ended, and I didn't. Even though I can bring my laptop to work and write when there aren't any tasks/clients in. (I may have read four chapters of Reverie and gone back to the grooming area to pet the dogs Sunday instead of writing much on my laptop, which needs replaced badly after seven years of loyal service. I'm gonna cry when I retire this one.) I've also been sick since Monday, which... apparently, my boss has the same thing as I do. (Not covid or strep, but the doctor said that it's some kind of viral infection that turned into tonsilitis, and uh, now I think it's a sinus infection.) So I haven't been writing much. Just editing Seasons and posting that, which does require some writing, but... yeah. Not much on Geckos. And I need to publish this sometime in August, so I think I'm gonna work on some of that later today. First I wanna do some reading, since I haven't been reading lately. I got two books for my birthday that I haven't even touched, and I finally picked up Reverie after snagging it on sale on kindle for $2 a while back. I also promised to write my roommate a fic for their birthday, and I do want to tackle those prompts in my inbox. (Though I'm mostly saving those for weekends when I'm writing at work, though I've basically worked on them whenever I please lol) So much to do. I better haul ass, esp with needing a new writing laptop and saving for the car (and all that comes with that).

[eisforeidolon]

Jared: I had to think for a second, cause I woke up, I don't know about you, but I woke up this morning, it was one of those, 'I know I'm not home, where ... Ah, Scottsdale!'

Audience: Glendale!

Jared: I woke up in Scottsdale! I am now in Glendale. And happy to be here. Where's Scottsdale? Arizona.

Jensen: Where in Scottsdale? Some hotel.

Jared: Sanctuary? That sounds right. Well, we're not going back tonight, so...

Jensen: That's right, uh, I woke up this morning and I was like [confused face]. I had a where am I, because it was all blackout curtains, it was still dark? The place that I'm staying in Albuquerque where we're shooting Big Sky, there is no blackout. So at like, 7 am it's just like [gestures at his face, blows air] SUNLIGHT! It sucks. I don't know why I haven't just duct taped a blanket up there, but - you know what, I am. [Jared laughs] I'm gonna do that tonight when I get home -

Jared: Where am I, where are my clothes?

Jensen: Just be like [mimes using duct tape with sound effects]. That's what I'm gonna do.

Jared: I'll bring the duct tape. Uh, well, good to see you guys. It's been a while. For those of you that I missed in Vancouver, I'm so sorry.

Jensen: Yeah, yeah. You are.

Jared: I am. I am, I was so bummed, I mean I haven't been there in two years and to find out on Friday that you have the 'VID for the third time. Anybody have me beat? Anybody have it like four? Once? Who's had it the most? Can anybody beat three? Winning [fist pump]! I should stop licking parking meters. Like, that might be -

Jensen: Or people's faces.

Jared: Yeah, I should stop that. I'm not gonna stop that.

Jensen: By the way, that's an added photo op today. Jared will lick your face.

Jared: I might have like amazing immunity right now -

Jensen: But you're gonna get COVID because he's a walking petri dish over here.

Jared: [...] phenomenal immunity, because I've now been through Strep, COVID, my kids got flu last week, so I've had all the antibiotics I think that ever existed by pharmaceutical companies in the last 30 days. I'll let you know how it goes. Beyond that, thanks for bringing us out here. It was also nice to get away. [To Jensen] You've been in New Mexico, so you haven't had this problem, but it's been like 80 degrees in Austin for the last ... six months.

Jensen: Gross.

Jared: Yeah, it was gross. So I got to bring a scarf, it was nice. I like my scarf. [Jensen laughs] But let's get to chatting with you guys.

[tumbling-down-the-hall]

2022 review

January: celebrated a year with the human who gave me a reason to stay in Oregon. Started playing DND. Was so much fun getting to make new friends.

February: nothing happened. (or nothing worth noting)

March: started hardcore planning our trip to see his folks in May. I puked all of the inside of my car (I think it was March, it may have been April. Who knows)

April. Went on a hike to witches castle. Have some cute photos.

May. Surprised his folks for his birthday and had a blast in NC. Vacation time. We both got supernatural tattoos. (well the four of us, him, his brother, brother's girlfriend and me)

June. My birthday! We didn't do much. Couple of baseball games. Oh shit wait. We moved in together. Which has been wild but wonderful.

July. Penguin tattoo in honor of my grandfather who died back in 2020 (on my birthday so like will never forget). Got my birth control out. Wanted to try to reregulate my body and went off all medication.

August. Went to a soccer game. Got COVID. Worked with a 102 fever. Not sure how I managed but fun times.

September. Went home for my parents 30th anniversary. Mom isn't doing the best after getting COVID but she seemed to be doing better.

October. Tattoo convention tattoo! I got the Nidorans. Mother is still struggling. :(

November. Thanksgiving hike to fairy falls. I destroyed the fuck outta my heels so that was fun. One of the friends turned 21 and we celebrated his birthday. I got strep that weekend so I couldn't do a lot of celebrating.

December! I was supposed to go out to the coast the beginning of the month to help bake for a bakesale. That didn't happen because 101 was closed due to a landslide :( week of Christmas weather shut everything down for a day and a half. I had a 4 day weekend and Jacob has 3 days. We were only supposed to have a day together but we got three 🥰. Nothing happened for new years eve. I think next year I'm going to try to do a game night with all of the DND boys. I know that makes me sound old but like. I think it would be a lot of fun.

I don't think I'm missing anything from this year. I chatted with an ex friend of mine for a hot minute. I kinda want to reach out to her again and just talk. But I also know that it can only end badly. (Broke up with her as a friend at the beginning of Americorps pt 2, that was rough. I tend to accept blame for a lot of things and there are power trips happening and ah. Was just a mess). I've accepted this year that I have both autism and ADHD. My mother doesn't think I have autism but I'm like 90% sure I do. It is what it is.

[bahandis]

( maris racal , cis woman , she/her , twenty-four ) ⸒ a little birdy told me AURORA “RORY” BAHANDI just moved to sunset hills . have you met them yet ? i heard them driving down the street playing TO HAUNT, TO STARTLE by PENNY AND SPARROW , they sounded a little pitchy but they had the spirit ! must be their favorite or something . hey … it looks like they just moved into MIDNIGHT PARK . have you heard about what they do for a living ? someone told me they’re a LIBRARIAN / ASPIRING WRITER , but who knows if that’s even true . guess we’re just gonna have to wait and see . nervous ? don’t be , i think you’re gonna get along just fine ! i can’t wait to see what they get up to .

hi all! i’m vee and this my baby rory! pls come love her. 

tw for death and grief 

when rory was born, the population of ojai, california went up by two, becoming a cool 6,324 as she along with her twin sister lindsay came into the world red-faced and screaming

her family was particularly the closest kind, sunday night pillow forts and friday and eating her mom’s adobo, listening to her dad’s records 

her family was a light, not without their problems, as all families are, but still enough for her

rory was a social animal growing up, she spent her weekdays playing volleyball and getting ice cream after school, often dragging lindsay along with her. 

she also found charm in her own quiet moments, reading every novel she could get her hands on or just whatever she picked up from the local library 

performing as rory got exhausting sometimes keeping up that constant state of energy and magnetism, this was when she would retreat to the library reading books and imagining another life for herself 

it was easy to figure out what she was going to do with her life relatively. there was nowhere she was at peace as much as the library, so she would be rory publicly, and aurora privately in the comfort of the library stacks 

the desire to write the next great american novel however came in her sophmore year of high school after signing up for a creative writing elective 

writing quickly became an outlet for all the things she felt unable to say, for someone so quickly distracted sometimes having a thousand thoughts a minute felt all too much 

the manuscript she’s working on now she’s been pounding out since her senior year of high school, despite it’s completion she still mulls over its imperfections editing and rewriting chunks 

though arguably she’s mostly looking for an excuse not to submit it to any publishing houses because she’s terrified of rejection 

it seemed like she had her entire life ahead of her to be so full of joy but all things must come to an end eventually 

two years ago her sister lindsay graduated college with a bachelors in biomedical science. though overjoyed rory had caught a nasty case of strep throat and was relegated to her bed for the week 

though as lindsay embarked she’d promised she’d bring leftovers from dinner with their parents. that was the last time she would ever see her, or the rest of her family 

in the blink of an eye her family was there and then they weren’t 

it wasn’t until aurora was watching the steel corpse of their minivan being pulled away by a tow truck that it clicked. she was alone 

the grief was overwhelming, she felt like she was being eaten alive. family flew in from the philippines to help with the funeral but rory was a husk of a person, body acting on autopilot just to sleep 

everywhere she turned they were reminders of her family. for two years she wallowed in her grief barely getting by until the pitying looks and the memory of it all became too much 

a month ago she sold her parents house, stuffed was little belongings remained into a uhaul truck and moved to sunset hills 

the anonymity was intoxicating, here nobody knew her story, nobody even knew her name. 

she’s not quite the rory she used to be, she’s still figuring out who she is after everything, and trying to make a life here despite it all. 

[willowbird]

hi! im a sucker for mutual pining so can i ask for roommates!au+ childhood friends + “you know i’ll do anything for you.” for pynch? 💛

You sure can lovely, you know I'll do anything for you 😉 (see what I did there?)

I also decided to make this a sick fic because I can. Hope you enjoy!

--

Ronan Lynch woke up feeling like death warmed over. Now this wasn't an altogether unfamiliar sensation, but it usually followed a night of heavy drinking and too many tacos sourced from questionable food trucks. Last night Ronan had been fucking responsible, thank you. He could have gone out and gotten trashed with some not-quite-friends he knew from around town. Instead, he had specifically stayed home and not gotten shit-faced because he had important shit to do today.

See, responsible. He could do it. Fuck you, Declan.

With an enthusiastic groan of anguish, Ronan rolled over and made to push himself up into a sitting position. His hand slipped off the edge of the bed in the attempt, however, and two seconds later he was in a heap on the floor with absolutely no energy nor motivation to try again.

At least, not until he heard a light knock on the door followed by a familiar voice calling, "Ronan? You alright in there?"

"Fuck," he grumbled to himself - except his face was trapped between his arm and the floor, so it came out more like 'frushk'.

The door creaked open and Ronan managed to summon the energy to lift his arm just enough to see Adam's bare feet peak into the room. How had he never noticed how elegant Adam's ankles were? The man could be a dancer if he wanted to, Ronan was sure of it - not that he knew anything about dancing or what dancers bodies should look like. Adam was wearing his pajama pants still, which was odd because Adam was always up way before Ronan and was usually fully dressed by the time Ronan dragged his ass out of bed - which he only ever did when the time was still in single-digits if he had absolutely no other choice (or if Adam was making breakfast... so... almost every day, but then he went back to bed). It was a shame, though, because Adam's calves were elegant, too. One wouldn't think men's calves could be pretty, but Adam's were. They fit the line of his legs like calligraphy, gently curving while holding all of this strength. That was to say nothing for his thighs. Ronan would happily be crushed by Adam's thighs.

"Um..." said Adam, and Ronan realized that he'd grabbed the hem of Adam's pant leg and was lifting it up, his body attempting to listen to his (likely fever-induced) inner ramblings and desire to see more of Adam's (perfect) legs.

With no energy to explain or defend himself, Ronan grunted and just let his hand drop back to the floor. A moment later he felt the air shift around him and when he realized he'd closed his eyes he forcibly peeled them open again to see that Adam had crouched down beside him.

Ah fuck, look at that bedhead. This was unfair. Ronan should get to see Adam's cute bedhead every day. But no, Adam had to be one of those people who got up at the asscrack of fucking dawn. He had to be one of those jerks who owned a comb. Despicable.

Adam caught his hand, the wayward limb having lifted to reach for aforementioned cute bedhead against Ronan's will.

"Alright, come on now Lynch, let's get you back in bed." Adam's voice was soft and very close now, which was funny because Adam was supposed to be far away. Adam was always too far away. Except this next time when Ronan opened his eyes he realized that Adam wasn't far away at all, he was right there, with his arm around Ronan, helping him sit up.

"When'd you get buff, Parrish?" Ronan grumbled as Adam all but deadlifted him from the floor to get him back on the bed.

Adam's quiet chuckle brushed against the side of Ronan's neck like a kiss. "What, did you think me going to the gym four days a week was for show? Gotta be able to lug your ass around."

"You calling me fat?"

"Yes."

"Bitch."

This time, Adam's laugh was a bit more full but it stayed quiet, like Adam knew about the angry cotton that had taken over the inside of Ronan's skull and didn't want to antagonize it.

Ronan was horizontal the next time he opened his eyes and Adam was woefully far away. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusting the covers, which really wasn't all that far, but look -- it was too far. His hands were eager to obey his inner ramblings apparently, because without Ronan's say-so they had lifted again, reaching for Adam.

Adam caught them easily in his own and squeezed. "I hope you didn't have any big plans today, Lynch. You've definitely got a fever."

"No I don't," Ronan protested, half-distracted by how nicely his and Adam's hands fit together. He'd almost forgotten that, how good it felt to hold Adam's hand. They used to hold hands all the time when they were kids -- because that's what kids did. He remembered always reaching for Adam's hand. Sometimes to pull him up when he fell down, sometimes to grab him to go play, sometimes just because it felt... good to do it. They've been best friends since the summer before kindergarten, them and Gansey and Noah. But it was always Adam's hand Ronan wanted to hold.

But boys don't hold other boys' hands once you reach a certain age. Which, actually, was utter and complete bullshit and Ronan was going to do something about that as soon as he was able to get vertical again. He didn't know what, but he would come up with something, dammit.

"--nan? Ronan? Hey, you still with me?"

Ronan blinked away some cobwebs and focused back up at Adam's face, which was drawn together in concern. "The fuck you talking about Parrish," he rasped out. "I didn't go anywhere."

One of those strong, elegant hands dropped his - but before Ronan could mourn the loss it reached forward to press gently to his forehead, then to his cheek. "Maybe I should take you to the doctor," Adam said through a frown.

"'m fine," Ronan growled out with attempted authority. Adam only stared at him and Ronan rolled his eyes. "It's just... just a stupid cold or something."

Adam was already shaking his head. It took all of Ronan's willpower not to whine when he pulled his hand away, but he managed.

"What're you doing?" he grumbled suspiciously as Adam produced his phone from the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Texting my boss."

The shock of confusion that lanced through him at that was sharp enough to kickstart his brain and wake him up a little bit. "What? Why?"

Adam gave him another look, and damnit if the man didn't look like a sexy, disapproving librarian - even without the glasses. "Ronan, you're sick. If that fever gets any higher you really will have to go to the doctor."

"So?" Something was not computing. Why should Ronan's stupid body being stupid sick have anything to do with Adam texting his boss? Did Adam's boss know something about fevers?

"So I'm not leaving you by yourself all day."

"You're asking your boss to hire a fucking babysitter?"

"No you ass, I'm calling off for the day."

Ronan blinked. He closed his eyes, counted to three, then opened them again - but Adam was still there. He was looking down at his phone, swiping across it as a message came in. Then he gave a nod and looked back at Ronan. "And it's done."

"Wait. What?"

Adam's expression clouded with worry again, lips pursing and brow drawing in. "Ronan, I just told you..."

"Shit. Fuck. Yeah, I got that. Wait. You're calling in?" Adam Parrish had never called off of work a day in his life. Ronan would know - since he'd been a part of it for about twenty years now. Three weeks after they'd moved in together, Adam had come down with strep throat and had still tried to go into work. His boss had ended up calling Ronan to come haul his ass out of there since Ronan was listed as his emergency contact.

"I'm going to call the doctor..."

Ronan cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I'm not a fucking amnesiac, Parrish. Why the fuck would you call off work for my sorry ass?"

Adam gave him a look, then, and it was a look that had the rest of Ronan's confused protest dying before it even reached the tip of his tongue. When Adam spoke, his voice was softer and his hands - his hands - had abandoned the phone and had returned to take both of Ronan's.

"C'mon, Ro," he said in that quiet, steady voice, "you know I'll do anything for you. Don't you?"

Ronan's throat constricted and his hands curled into fists, except Adam's hands were already tangled in them so he only ended up gripping those hands tighter. It took a moment for him to process that, his brain addled by fever and distracted by confusion.

When the words and the tone and the look in those blue of blue of blue eyes finally clicked, Ronan swallowed hard. Then he opened his mouth, maybe to say 'no I don't' or 'do you mean that the same way I do?' or 'if you fucking no-homo me on this shit Parrish I will kick your ass'. Instead, he rasped out a dazed, "What the fuck time is it?"

Adam blinked, then gave a tired grin and shook his head. "A little after five."

"...AM? Five in the fucking morning? Jesus Christ."

"Don't blame me on this one, Lynch. You're the one who threw yourself out of bed before I even had a chance to shower."

Ronan snorted, then looked up at the other man through bleary eyes, considering his options here. After a long moment of deliberation (that honestly might not have been that long, considering how wobbly his interpretation of time was this morning), Ronan laboriously shifted his body over on the bed so that he was tucked more against the wall. He then patted the newly empty space beside him. "C'mon."

Adam looked at him, then the bed, then at him. "What?"

"Should I call the doctor?" Ronan mocked, then rolled his eyes. "Come on. You don't have to work, and you're up to early. This way you can make sure I don't die in my sleep."

"Not funny, Lynch," Adam warned - but he also set his phone on the bedside table and crawled onto the bed, letting Ronan hold the covers up for him so he could sink into the warmth. Their apartment was too drafty for Adam's bird blood to put up with that sleeping on top of the covers shit. Besides, they'd had how many sleepovers growing up? Sharing a bed was nothing new to them.

The flutter in Ronan's chest when Adam met his eyes, that wasn't all that new either.

"Go back to sleep, Ro. I'm right here."

Ronan sighed, but being given that permission to say 'fuck it' to the rest of the day and just sleep off the haze of sickness clinging to the backs of his eyelids and slinking down his spine was enough to sap the rest of his energy. He closed his eyes, sleep already tugging at him. Later, he wouldn't remember whether or not the soft press of chapped lips to his forehead was real or a dream.

Fun little prompt thingies

[professional-benaddict]

Prince!Peter x Mafia!Tony - oneshot ll

original moodboard & oneshot written by @snowstark

Prince Peter, Mafia boss Tony, forbidden relationships, mentioned gun violence, injury and recovery, whump, Stephen being the good doctor, Peter feeling lonely and misunderstood

Peter had screwed up perfectly. There is no way he could have screwed up more than he did. That is the thing with rock bottom. It can only go upwards from there.

When Peter closes his eyes, he can hear the frantic clicking of the paparazzi’s cameras. Their invasive assumptions and prying questions make his throat close up in panicked embarrassment.

It was not like that. It was not like that at all.

Peter had for a long time despised his royal title and the privileges and burdens it entailed. If you asked him, there were hardly any privileges at all. Only burdens and troubles. Due to his dislike of his role, he had used every opportunity he got to make as much trouble as possible. As a child, he would often sneak into the kitchens and dining rooms to switch the sugars with salt, and vice versa. For a while he also cut many of the strings holding back the heavy curtains in front of the grande windows in the palace. They would then randomly come undone, and one time the undone curtain even made a diplomat’s mother fall over while she was gazing out the window.

Those small catastrophes added up, and rumours started circulating of ghosts haunting the palace. But, most of the staff and the royal family members knew that there was a certain young prince at fault for the seemingly haunting incidents. Now that Peter is older, his tricks have become more psychological and manipulative in nature. Some would call him cunning, others plain stupid, because his tricks involved putting himself in real danger.

At the adventurous and rebellious age of 19, Peter went to a BDSM club for the first time. He had manipulated the new substituting bodyguards to take him there without telling his family. To Peter’s knowledge, no one besides those two guards know of the visit to the BDSM club. That first visit was life changing to Peter, and ever since that day, he hungered for more.

Peter’s full time bodyguards, Steve and Bucky, are not as easy to fool as the substitutes. So, instead of fooling them, Peter gives them full disclosure, letting them know just who he is going to see and where. Naturally, the two men were not pleased, so Peter brought the big guns.

He knew it was a nasty trick, but it was years ago that he decides to ditch playing nice. Just like the rest of his royal family, he is only looking out for himself and he is not afraid to harm others to advance his own interests. And going out to this club to meet a certain someone is his sacred priority now, and Peter went as far as openly threatening to reveal Steve and Bucky’s forbidden romantic relationship to protect his own blossoming relationship at the club.

Perhaps a certain someone’s bad habits and ways of acting is rubbing off on him, Peter thinks. This is quite the step up from sabotaging meals and curtains as a child. However, his threats had earned him a useful deal.

Steve and Bucky will take Peter to the BDSM clubs without saying a word to the other staff nor the family, nor will they speak to anyone who Peter is meeting at the club. To put it mildly, the royal family and the public would be quite horrified to learn that the prince is seeing the most famous mafia boss at a BDSM club.

And so they were. They were horrified to learn that, but Peter is choosing to focus on the comfort of the morphine in his veins rather than all the gossip going on outside the four walls of his room. Steve and Bucky are sometimes on watch duty outside his door, and Peter can practically feel their guilt radiate through the wall. His family have been to see him, of course, but only briefly. Peter pretends to be asleep whenever they come. He can only imagine what they are going to say to him. Or perhaps they will never speak to him. Perhaps that would not be so bad.

Being outside the palace gates is dangerous enough, but being in the same room as a mafia boss only increases that danger. And Peter had sat on Tony’s lap when a rival boss’ minions had shown up with violent intentions. The prince had been hurt in the crossfire, and the incident made it impossible to hide the fact that Peter was in a BDSM club with a mafia boss. Even if he wore a mask to hide his identity, it had to be ripped away when Peter’s life was at risk. Cat’s out of the bag, and there is no forcing it back in.

Peter must have lost consciousness at some point, because suddenly he woke up at the palace and was met with the slightly disappointed but relieved face of Stephen Strange. The surgeon is the chief physician at the palace, and Peter has always seen him as an ally in the prison he calls his palace home. The doctor says it like it is, and the prince wishes he had more people like that around him.

“You scared the shit out of all of us, Your Highness.” Strange had said. Peter quickly lost consciousness after that.

Strange told Peter he had been shot in the abdomen, but luckily the shooter had missed any vital organs and large blood vessels. It still hurt like hell, but that did not stop Peter from trying to get up.

“Your Highness, I really cannot believe you sometimes.”

Both the pain shooting up from his wound and the voice from the doorway make Peter stop in his tracks. He did not get far, just a bit higher up on his bed in fact, but Strange still looks displeased.

“Shud’- shut up.” Peter spits back, hissing in pain as he tries to sit up further.

“Come on, I’ll help you lay down again.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I’ll get you more morphine.”

A few minutes later Peter is a bit higher than he was before. A quiet gasp escapes Peter’s open lips, and for a few short seconds the few colours in the bland medical room blend together. The doctor hums approvingly and goes to dispose of the syringe he used to inject the pain medication into Peter’s IV. Then, he returns to his patient’s bedside, watching him carefully. The boy blinks multiple times, and then nods at the doctor that he is ready to lay back down and get comfortable.

“So, who is this guy you met at the BDSM club?”

Peter’s eyes go comically wide at the question. The intrusive question is sobering and Peter fixes his eyes on the doctor.

“You know? How do you know?” Peter asks dumbly.

“Everyone knows now, You Highness. Can you lift your head up a bit for me?”

Peter does as he is told, and thanks the doctor mentally for placing the pillow so perfectly under his head. The prince sinks a bit into the mattress. However, he cannot relax fully. He can feel Strange’s eyes on him, expecting an answer.

“Fuck. Fine, I met Tony.”

“And who’s Tony?”

“Doesn’t everyone know that as well?”

“Well, not what he is to you.”

“And that’s what you’re asking?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Peter’s gaze is still sceptical as he eyes the doctor. Strange has been at the palace even before Peter was born into the buzzing world and his cruel role. Luckily, Peter has not seen Strange frequently. Sometimes he would do Peter’s annual check up, sometimes another palace doctor would do it. On even rarer occasions, Strange or one of his employees would show up at Peter’s room, having heard rumours about the prince coughing or complaining about stomach pains. One time, Strange ordered Peter to stay home from a planned trip abroad due to a strep infection. He had been quite furious with the doctor for that, only to learn that he loved staying home while his family was away. The palace had never been so peaceful. It gave him another glimpse of what life could be like for him.

“... And you’ll just go running to tell everyone else then? Fill in the gaps for them? Hell no.” Peter snaps.

“I won’t tell. I’m just curious.”

“Why? This doesn’t have to do with your work. You just patch me up, is all.”

“No, I’d say it is part of my responsibility.”

“How?”

“He might break your heart. And I don’t want that to happen to you, Your Highness.” Strange says, his voice gentle and caring. The genuineness in his tone catches Peter off guard and makes him realise just how hungry he is for that sort of interest. “So, what’s Tony to you?”

Peter’s eyes burn with tears at all the emotions that the question triggers in him.

“I-I think… I think I’d give up my title.” Peter says quietly. He has to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing. “For him. To be with him.”

[roberttchase]

Manner minded or double trouble? Both SO matty? Maybe Christie looking after him?

double trouble: [character] is sick and injured.

I will be writing the manner minded one separately :) I hope you enjoy this (somewhat more detailed than I'd originally planned) ficlet.

Send prompts to my inbox.

+ + +

If you were to ask Matt Casey if he thought he was lucky, for the most part he would answer with 'no'. Yes, he's lucky enough to have Sylvie Brett as a girlfriend, lucky to have gone to the fire academy, lucky to have been promoted to a lieutenant and then captain. But he also had an emotionally abusive father as a teenager, a murderer for a mother, his girlfriend of eight years was killed, his wife left him. For every good thing, it feels like there are three bad things in his life.

So he can't even really say it's a surprise when, while on scene helping squad rescue two victims in a car that's balancing precariously close to the frozen Chicago River, Matt loses his balance, slips from the hood of the car, and falls almost twelve feet onto the ice that then suddenly cracks underneath him, submerging him in below forty degree water. Nothing in his life is ever easy. Intense pain radiates from his chest, his body feels like it's on fire, and then nothing.

From there, the scene is absolute chaos. Sylvie and Violet are both off shift, spending the entire week in Joliet helping teach at a conference. The two paramedics that are on scene are instantly calling for backup, while both Severide and Tony frantically suit up in scuba gear for precaution. Boden's yelling orders, but the three other members of truck are all frozen, staring at the large hole in the ice, from which their Captain is currently very much not getting out of.

+ + +

"Christie, you really don't have to do this, Severi-"

"I know what Severide said, but I'd feel more comfortable if you stayed with me." Christie Casey frowns, looking at her younger brother. He's at least four shades paler than he should be, cheeks flushed and eyes dull. Stubble consumes the lower half of his face, and the firefighter looks exhausted. She can't say that she blames him, not with the hell that he's gone through the past thirty six hours.

She'd gotten the call from Stella Kidd yesterday, a kind but shaky voice telling her that Casey, Matt, had fallen into an icy river, and was at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center being treated for two broken ribs and mild hypothermia. Arriving half an hour later, she'd been taken into Matt's room, where they had him on enough pain medication he was basically incoherent. One of the doctors had explained to her that the next few hours were important for any person who'd almost drowned- inhalation of the river water had occurred, and aspiration pneumonia was a large possibility. For a naive moment, Christie was certain that Matt would be fine.

Matt's never that lucky.

It's how she finds herself now, half glaring at her brother, who's been given instructions to stay with someone for the next forty eight hours, while his body wars with itself. The red haired doctor had explained that unless the mans fever reaches over 102, or his breathing deteriorates, he's allowed to stay out of the hospital. Severide's offered to let him stay at the loft, to take next shift off and watch over his best friend, but she tells her brothers best friend no. She needs to be able to watch over her little brother, if his paramedic girlfriend can't.

She's already talked to Sylvie, had called her only an hour after getting the call herself. They'd come to the conclusion that as long as someone was there to watch Matt, she needed to finish up the week for the CFD and CEMS.

"You ready to leave? I'm bringing you back to my place. Violet's got the guest room all ready for you."

Matt blinks and then nods, shoulders curved in slightly, one arm wrapped around his side. He looks a little woozy, though that could be from the pain pills being pumped through his body. That, or the fever he's sporting. April wheels him to the front of the hospital while Christie grabs her car and pulls it up to the curb.

Half an hour later, Matt's being helped into the guest room, where, sure enough, the bed has fresh sheets and a few extra pillows have been added for the man who isn't supposed to lay flat on his back. She gets him under the covers, thankful he's cooperating, and by the time she's back with the meds in a little plastic cup, as well as a glass of water, Matt's asleep.

"Matt, hey, you have to wake up and take your medicine, then you can go back to sleep, okay?" She shakes him as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt his ribs any more than they already are. She must knock something loose though, because not a second later he starts coughing, low and harsh, and his eyes flutter open. Gasping for air, they wait for his chest to stop spasming. His arm is cradling his side and she feels terrible, wishing she could help.

"I just need you to take this medicine, then you can sleep again," she promises, holding the cup out for him. When he nods, the woman lets the small pills tumble onto his open palm, and soon he's swallowing them tiredly.

"C-Can you stay?" The words are quiet and hang in the air as she turns to leave. Pausing, Christie turns back and is struck by just how young Matt looks, laying there with fever flushed cheeks and sallow skin.

Moving slowly, the woman gets into the other side of the bed, carefully shifting to get comfortable.

"Just like old times huh?"

She knows he's referring to their childhood. Christie can't help but smirk a little at the memories.

"Are you talking about when you would come crying to me because you were afraid of the dark?" Her tone is teasing, and instinctively she lets her fingers find his hair, running them through it just like she did when they were young teens and their father had been yelling at them.

A laugh bubbles out of Matt's throat, but it quickly changes to coughing, and it takes a moment for Matt to calm down, sipping water before replying.

"I was actually talking about when I was eight and caught whatever that punk across the street had after he coughed on me. I remember I was out of school for a week, and you stayed with me as much as you could."

She remembers it well.

+ + +

Matt never gets sick, not when he was a baby, and not now. She's always been the one to come down with colds or strep throat, and Matt always manages to avoid germs. He had been sick once when he was a toddler, once, but other than that, she can't remember him ever even getting a runny nose. And then Michael Jeffries goes and coughs all over him on the bus when she's in fifth grade and he's in third, and Matt's record of not getting sick goes down the drain.

It had been on a Monday. That following Thursday afternoon, Christie's waiting for Matt to get on the bus when their bus driver tells her that her brother has apparently gone home early. The whole ride home, the eleven year old is upset, not for her brother, but at the fact she wasn't taken out early either. Why did Matt get to go home and play when she didn't? By the time she's walking into their small home, the blonde is stomping her feet and slamming the door behind her, ready to ask why her stupid brother gets such special treatment.

Instantly though, she realizes something is wrong. Mommy isn't downstairs like she normally is, but instead of being worried, the girl let sher anger build. Running up the stairs, her ponytail swaying behind her, Christie's ready to yell and throw a tantrum, but she freezes when she sees her mom sitting on Matt's small twin bed. She's holding their big blue bowl that she always gets out when Christie's stomach is sick, and Matt is throwing up, coughing and spluttering after, while she rubs his back. Cautiously, Christie walks into the doorway.

"Mommy...what wrong with Matt?"

Nancy and Matt look up, the older woman rubbing her sons back.

"Matt's just not feeling well honey, he'll be alright."

Christie frowns and looks at her brother, whose cheeks are a startling bright pink, his skin pale.

"He looks really sick..." Suddenly she's not mad at all anymore, instead she's worried, no, scared. Matt doesn't get sick. That's his superpower, just like hers is liking vegetables.

Before any more words are spoken, Matt coughs and lets out a strangled little whine. "M-Mommy..."

Christie turns her face away as Matt gets sick this time, not wanting to watch anyone throw up. Instead, she goes and busies herself with finding paper and her crayons. Sitting down on her bedroom floor, the eleven year old goes to town with making her brother a get well soon card, the only thing she knows she can do in this moment.

That night, while she and mommy eat downstairs, Christie can hear Matt crying with Daddy. The second she finishes her food and washes her plate off, the blonde runs upstairs, wanting to make sure the younger boy is okay. She stops in front of his room, but no one's there, the twin sized bed with dark green sheets is empty, even his beloved stuffed bear is gone. Walking further down the hall, she sees the two she's been looking for in her parents king sized bed.

Matt's laying against Daddy, Bear clutched in his hand, his ear against the boys lip. Daddy smiles at her and puts a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. Nodding, Christie tiptoes in and peers at them both, before climbing in putting a delicate hand on Matt's shoulder, hoping he'll be ok.

+ + +

Brought back to the present, Christie feels Matt's forehead and sighs. "just try and sleep okay? I'll be here if you need me, okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you Matt."

It's as if it's all he's been waiting to hear. It takes him all of two minutes to fall back asleep, head resting against his sisters shoulder. She supposes that this can be the start of all the years she'd missed taking care of him after she'd left for college. He deserves it.

[lindirs-gaze]

thank you for the tag @reshirement !!

If you get tagged, you have to share 5 (or more) of the weirdest, stupidest, or funniest facts about yourself.

Apparently I’m a very good liar, I played Fakin’ It (the jackbox game) with my fam) and fucking killed it every time i was the faker. sociopath behavior

I will have full on conversations with my dog Kirby. he just has a lot to say

Apparently I speak Dutch with a German accent? I am not German and have only been to Germany once

I can’t sleep on planes so on my way back from NZ I was awake for about 32 hours straight. I managed to doze off at one point but then the flight attendant woke me up to ask if I wanted ravioli. Man do I look like I want ravioli :(

A couple years ago I got into a car accident and sprained my hand and while I was at the hospital I caught strep throat and by the time I recovered from that I got all four wisdom teeth out. Also my ankle was sprained.

tagging the girl reading this

[blush-and-books]

Juke 48 fluff please...

Prompt #48: “I told you to take care of yourself.”

Ksjahdsf High School AU inspired by the fact that my generation has been so crushed by the pressures of our education system that we would always show up to school with colds and strep and literally anything because we refused to miss school. Double inspired by the morning I threw up at 3AM and had a cold but literally went downstairs and monologued to my mom that I had to go to school bc I had two quizzes that would have been hell to make up and I would have had major anxiety if I missed anything. And she let me go. Triple inspired by the fact that pre-COVID I would get sick routinely 4 times across Oct, Nov and Dec because my peers would also show up sick. So, yeah. Here’s to the american education system 

Luke knows that something is off with his best friend when she finally approaches her locker that Wednesday morning, where he had been anxiously bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for her.

Where she is usually like sunshine to him, glowing brighter than the California sunrise -- a lyric in the song he was planning to show her, but would never admit was inspired by her as well -- she arrives with the pale glow of the moon instead. Julie’s eyes are half-open, and her usually bouncy curls have been pulled back and up unto a messy bun. 

He hasn’t seen her like this since-

“Jules,” he mumbles, half to himself and half to her when she finally looks up and notices him. Instantaneously, he takes an energetic step towards her, letting his hands rest on her upper arms. “Are you sick? Again?”

As if she doesn’t want to hear it, not again, her bottom lip juts out in a pout that is only seen on a miserable Julie Molina before she brushes past him to her locker. Deeply concerned, Luke trails after her. 

“Julie, hey,” he attempts, but she won’t look up at him. There’s a shame in her face while she gets her calculus textbook from her locker, and it’s then that Luke notices the thermos she’s clutching in her left hand. “Let me take this stuff. Drink your tea. Don’t try and talk, I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

She shakes her head, it’s not his fault, she’s the idiot showing up to school sick, but she couldn’t miss today. She just couldn’t. 

Without putting up a fight, she lets him take her backpack and textbook from her possession while she unscrews the lid of her thermos and chugs two big gulps of tea. Temporary relief is brought to her throat, but it doesn’t last long. 

“I-” She attempts, but Luke shoots her a glare and wags a finger at her. Ignoring him, she powers on. “I have a calc test and a history quiz and an English debate.”

“You can make those up.” “But do I want to? Do I want to miss a whole day of notes and work and assignments because I have a runny nose?”

(And a sore throat, obviously. And a headache. She also woke up right before her alarm to throw up, but she hasn’t felt the urge to do that again since. You get the picture though.)

“Jules, I mean this in the best way possible, but you look like there’s a lot more than a runny nose happening here. A runny nose was two weeks ago. This looks like your whole body aches.”

(Fair assessment. It does.)

She lifts her thermos to her lips once again to soothe the throbbing that resulted from her excuses, feeling her stomach twirl in a way that she can’t tell is another bout of nausea or just Luke making her painfully fall more in love with him. 

He, on the other hand, is one step away from hauling her over his shoulder and driving her home himself. He doesn’t know what to do. Julie’s stressed, and the stress has made her vulnerable to colds for the past couple of months, and this is the third time he’s seen her sick. No matter what, she shows up to school -- freshman year, she stayed home sick with the stomach flu, and had a panic attack in the bathroom on the day that she came back. 

He knows because he was in her music class that year. Her best friend, Flynn, had rushed into the music room to explain to their teacher, and he’ll never forget it. 

Coincidentally, it was two months ago, with Julie’s first ceremonious cold of the year, that Luke officially realized that he was in love with her. It was the feeling of seeing her uncomfortable, powering through because she felt like she had to -- he was so proud, yet so worried, and wanted to bring her home so they could watch Tangled and he could make her the matzo ball soup recipe that Alex taught him when they were kids. 

“I know,” she croaks at him, face crumbling. “It does. I feel like shit. But I just have to get through today, and I’ll be fine.”

(After spending six hours at school, another two on homework, pedaling through five bottles of Gatorade and getting four hours of sleep because her throat and sinuses prevent her from any adequate rest. Yeah. She’ll be fine.) ((She’ll still come to school tomorrow.))

Luke knows all of this. In his head, he’s drafting the text to his parents that he’ll type out in his lap during first period to tell them that he’s going to be at the Molina’s for the next couple of days, taking care of Julie. They do have a band to worry about, after all, and their lead singer needs to be in top shape. 

Just looking at her tired face makes his chest hurt. She looks like she hasn’t smiled in a long time. Wanting to comfort her, somehow, he reaches his hands up to cradle her cheeks -- but she swats him away. 

“Luke, no. I’m not getting you sick.”

Fighting her flailing hands, he manages to slip his own to her cheeks, making sure that the fingers that are wandering into her hair rub her scalp. That’s always a calming, relieving feeling. 

“Impossible, mariposa. My immune system is Herculean.”

She looks up at him, fully, for the first time that morning. He can’t help but grin at getting to see her face, no matter how tired she thinks she looks, and even though she thinks he is full of shit she can’t help but mirror his expression. 

“There’s my girl,” he whispers unconsciously. Her skin warms underneath his hands. “Are you alright? Do you have a fever? You’re getting a little toasty.”

Her skin temperature rises from her blush even higher as his hands slip from her hair and to her forehead, pathetically testing for a fever. 

“I’m good,” she shakes her head, trying to brush it off. His eyes refocus on her, and he sighs; the air staying silent between them as she tries to decipher what he’s thinking. 

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he insists. “I told you to take care of yourself. Can’t have my frontwoman blowing her nose in between each song at a gig.”

“I’m your frontwoman now? Fuck Julie and the Phantoms, I guess.”

Luke smirks, and for a heavenly moment forgets that the precious girl in front of him isn’t in pain, but she stiffles a cough after her joke. Frowning, he drops his hands to grab hers so that he can hold them up between their chests. 

“You’re my everything, silly. Frontwoman, best friend, study partner, favorite person-”

“-Walking petri dish.”

“Yes. My walking petri dish.”

The joke lightens Julie up. Maybe today, if her and Luke can keep making jokes, she will get through. She can’t think of anything else to say as his lips press against her forehead in a gesture so caring that she would grab his face and move those lips down a few inches if she weren’t, you know, a walking petri dish. 

Before either of them can say anything else, the school bell rings. It’s time for her miserable day to start. Just the idea of sitting still in her math class makes her shiver, and she wraps her arms around herself. 

“Are you cold?” Luke jumps to ask, moving closer to her as the halls start moving with crowds of other students. 

“Luke, I’m fine-”

“My locker is right by your math class. I have a flannel in there. You’re wearing it today.”

“Luke-”

“No arguments. I was walking you to class anyways. I’m walking you to every class, actually. Your backpack weighs more than you do and that’s the last thing you need to feel right now.”

(Not to be creepy, but Julie Molina would marry Luke right now if he asked. Sometimes she wonders if her other best friend, Flynn, is right when she makes jokes about her and Luke being a married couple. If this is marriage, sign her up.)

“Thank you,” she says lightly, trying not to strain her throat. Luke responds with tugging on her left hand, beginning to pull her towards the staircase at the end of the hall. 

“We’ll get you better, Molina. Mark my words.”

Tagging @willexx because you got all impatient on me. love you babe and love you too anon!!

[bbyboybrock--archived]

His Little XPLR (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* Hi! Tell me how you feel about this colbys daughter is sick with strep laryngitis and a throat infection and basically Colby baby’s her and takes care of her. I know it’s short but it’s the best I got and I’m not the best at explaining

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,346

Warnings: fluff, swearing

Masterlist

“I should come home. I’m flying home right now. I’m going to book a flight and call my manager. I can be home in like 6 hours. I knew I shouldn’t have gone on this trip.” I hear Y/N panicking on the other line. I hear her muttering to herself and packing up in the background.

“Y/N, babe, stop packing. Stay in New York, you’re on a work trip. I can handle Bea on my own. It’s just a cold I’m sure. I only called to keep you updated on her. I gave her some medicine and I’m going to check on her in an hour. If her fever isn’t gone, I’ll take her to urgent care. You’ve been planning this meeting for a while and it’s a big one. Stay and do your contracts and stuff.” I reassure her. I peak my head into Beatrice’s room and watch the four-year old’s small frame rise and fall slowly.

“You’re right,” she says sighing, “but if she gets worse, I’m on the first flight out of here. I don’t care. You better fucking call me Colby, I swear to God—”

“I know, just go back to your meeting. I love you.” I say softly.

“I love you too, Colby. Call me.” Y/N hangs up her phone and I’m left with a sleeping Bea.

Bea hasn’t been feeling well for the past couple of days, and for a four-year-old, you can definitely tell. She’s done nothing but sit on the couch to take naps or watch tv. She’s a very active child, she takes after me that way, she’s almost always in the backyard climbing over shit, my little explorer. Ever since she got sick, Y/N has been wanting to cancel her trip. When she got pregnant with Bea, she pretty much put off her career.

Her channel has mostly become a family channel so she can balance work and home life. I know she misses doing her old content and making music. She’s been putting off meetings and collabs so she wouldn’t have to leave and I can do my own stuff. She was ready to go back last month. She planned meetings with her manager and some YouTube big wigs up in New York. So I pushed her to go and start getting her career back. I can handle staying with our daughter for a few days. If I need help, Sam and Kat live nearby.

I leave Beatrice’s door open and head out to the living room. Normally, I would take this time to clean up, but there isn’t much to do. Bea’s toys have been neatly put away since Saturday. The only toy she’s played with is some creepy ass doll that Jake bought her when she was firstborn. That thing gives me the creeps, it’s like a raggedy Anne doll on crack. I kept trying to hide it, but she would throw a fit. She’s sleeping with it now. She also took the blanket she was sleeping with on the couch with her.

I pull out my laptop and flop down on the couch. I opened it up to my email. I could edit some videos right now, but that’s too time-consuming. I don’t know when Bea will wake up and I want to be able to give her my full attention. It’s hard doing this as a single parent. I need to remember to kiss Y/N when she gets home for somehow dealing with Bea while she was sick and I was away on a Sam and Colby trip.

****

“I want to go home!” Bea cries from my lap.

Her fever got worse and her voice was nearly gone when she woke up from her nap. As promised, I called Y/N, who told me she would be home in about 6 hours. We’re sitting in one of the beds in the urgent care waiting for the results of the rapid strep test. We were going to be in the waiting room longer, but Bea threw up on the floor and I had to unleash my inner Karen.

I stroke Bea’s hair, trying to soothe her. This must be hard on her little body. I don’t think she’s been in this much pain in her entire life before. It must be confusing to her. She told me this morning that she had a headache, and I know for a fact she’s never had one of those before. I wish I could take all of her pain away and be sick instead.

“Daddy?” I hear Bea ask softly.

“Yes, princess?” I whisper back.

“I want mommy!” She starts to cry again.

“Shh, I know. Mommy is on her way now. I promise.” I readjust Bea so she can put her head on my shoulder. I pat her back and rub soft circles on her back.

“Mr. Brock?” A small nurse knocks on the door before poking her head in.

“You got the results back quickly,” I reply. Bea has stopped crying and is asleep now.

“Yeah, the lab isn’t too busy. The doctor wanted me to tell you that it is strep and to send you home with this prescription and packet about how to take care of Beatrice and you can go. If you want to ask him some questions, he can come in a few minutes. His number is on the packet just in case.” She hands me a stack of papers and I quickly look over them.

“Thank you. I’ll just take Bea and go now. I might call in about an hour, but thank you again.” I put the papers in Bea’s backpack and leave.

****

Bea hasn’t left my side since we left urgent care. I had to take her with me to both the grocery store and the pharmacy after we left because I couldn’t find anyone to watch her last minute. Well, I knew Kat would but she’s pregnant and I don’t want Bea to get her sick. When we got home, I gave her the antibiotics that she was prescribed and some soup. She took a nap on the couch while I did the laundry and clean up the messes I made while Y/N was away. When she woke up again, I gave her a popsicle.

Right now, Bea is cuddled next to me on my bed watching tv. It’s about 3 am but she woke up to go to the bathroom earlier and couldn’t go back to sleep. She fell asleep here earlier. Y/N and I didn’t put a tv in her room yet and I wanted to fall asleep in an actual bed. In the corner of the room is a humidifier helping her breathe.

“Mommy!” Bea says tiredly.

“Hi, baby, what are you two still doing up?” Y/N whispers coming into the room. I must have been dozing off because I didn’t hear her come into the house.

Y/N drops her bags on the floor and climbs into bed next to Bea. She hugs her and kisses me on the cheek.

“I would have picked you up from the airport? It was a nice surprise though.” I tell her, kissing her forehead.

“I thought Bea was asleep already. I didn’t want you to have to wake her up to get me. It’s fine though. But how has she been.” Y/N asks as she pulls the thermometer from the bedside table.

“She’s doing better. The antibiotics are helping, she played a little bit today. She’s been asking for you though.” I brush Bea’s hair out of her eyes, which are just like mine. She mostly looks like Y/N, except for her eyes.

“That’s good, and her temp is good too. Well, I’m glad you two were fine while I was away, I was worried. How have you been?” She asks. Bea is now cuddled on her mother’s chest, slowly falling asleep.

“I’m better now that you’re home,” I whisper, kissing Y/N again before going back to watching tv.

[whumphoarder]

Do you have a section for Christmas fics in your rec post list?

I don’t yet, so let me remedy that :D

Disaster Christmas: an Avengers Team 5+1 by @awesomesockes​ & @whumphoarder​

Five times the Avengers experience Christmas-related misfortune and Dr. Banner gets to show off his nursing skills + the one time everyone is miserable together.

Candle in the Window by @madasthesea​

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

12 Days of Irondad & Spideyson Christmas by @ciaconnaa​

12 individual Christmas-themed stories!

An Unwanted Christmas Gift by @whimsicalethnographies​

Tony Stark hates Christmas, Peter and Pepper love Christmas, May has to work, and everyone gets norovirus.

That's it. That's the story.

Eggnog and Tums and a Stairlift and Too Much Pie by @whimsicalethnographies​

“Okay, they’re gone…”

Peter looks up from his spot on the floor, where he’s dutifully cutting out snowflakes to add to Morgan’s collection. Mr. Stark is in his chair at the window, where he’s been since Happy ushered May and Pepper out the door ten minutes ago.

“...now’s our chance to be bad.”

Where the Lovelight Gleams by sahiya

“Hi,” Peter said weakly, looking up at Steve from where he was curled on his side in the bed––more or less the same position he’d been in since he’d arrived home from MIT, three days earlier, and quarantined himself because he didn’t want to expose Tony’s weak lungs and lousy immune system to his “finals week hell-flu.”

Steve appreciated the gesture, but at this point it was clearly doing more harm than good.

Cursed Christmas by sahiya

A series of unfortunate events befalls Tony, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan (and Happy and May) in the week leading up to Christmas.

It'd be kind of funny if it didn't totally suck. Fortunately, they've got good back-up.

5 Times Peter Wrapped Something With His Webs by jessicagoddamnjones

+ 1 time he didn’t.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas by @frostysunflowers​

''S’it bad?'' Peter asks weakly.

''Hard to say,'' Tony admits, hooking a thumb beneath the gunky locks of hair and gently lifting them away. ''You know what head wounds are like. They’re the drama queens of injuries.''

Peter moans and burrows himself into Tony’s chest. ''Did I fall over?''

''Something like that, kid,'' Tony sighs, letting his forehead drop into Peter’s damp hair, allowing his nerves a moment to settle. ''C’mon, let’s get you fixed up.''

Night(mare) Before Christmas by Desirexwolf 

Christmas had always been a quiet affair for the Parkers and when Peter met Tony Stark, he didn't think anything would change about that. Tony proves him wrong.

Home for Christmas by katierosefun

Or: four times Tony Stark and Peter Parker spent Christmas away from home or were late for Christmas, and the one time they finally managed to get home for Christmas together.

Stocking S(t)uffers by HiddenSt0rms

It’s not uncommon to have a sore throat in the wintertime, especially in a crowded place like Queens. It’s also not uncommon for said sore throat to turn out to be strep. But what is uncommon is for this to be the seventh throat problem this year.

Leave it to Peter’s luck to need his tonsils out right before Christmas.

Or: Tony knows just what to get Peter for Christmas following his tonsillectomy.

Merry Sickmas by @goldenavenger02​

"That sounds like pneumonia, Tony. Pretty sure it's viral if he's been sick since he got there." Bruce explained while adjusting the glasses on his face.

"He didn't start showing symptoms till last night, but knowing him, he probably has been hiding it since yesterday afternoon, minimum."

Air I Breathe by heartofcathedrals

Peter gets sick with pneumonia right before Christmas and May’s on a business trip, which leaves Tony in Dad Mode.

[colourful-void]

A list of things I remember from the first babysitters club books that didn’t make it into the adaption but I think you should know about.

just some things that were important to me that couldn’t get in there for time/ extra details. more under the cut, I just didnt want the post to be too long

(Disclaimer I am one person who read these several years ago so some things may have gotten tangled)

In Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls

Mary-Anne gets paranoid about the Phantom Caller and sets up traps with tin cans in a house she's sitting at. (might’ve been another girl)

The girls worry about someone listening in on an extention if they call for help, so devise an entire code system so they can ask each other for help. This code would start with whoever was asking if the other girl had seen their ‘red ribbon’ the code went pn to clarify colour if there was active danger, etc. One of the girls attempted to use it, but messed up and the two girls talking just chatted for a bit

a copy cat thief of the phantom caller actually robs Claudia’s neighbours, potentially Watson, and one of their sitting chargers iirc.

In Mary Anne Saves the Day

Mary Anne at first lies to Dawn about her friends all being away that day, when they first meet. this is a point of argument later on.

Bailey was a different girl called Jenny. No one liked her, she was a brat. Mary Anne was the only one who could stand her and she was the only one who sat for her.

Mary Anne called Dawn about what to do when Jenny/Bailey got sick and Dawn biked over.

Jenny/Bailey had strep throat

In Dawn and the Impossible Three

In general a lot more time is spent with Dawn taking care of the kids. She teaches them to tidy up with various game etc. I really liked this book. Since this is Dawn’s first book I’d like to note that Dawn originally had really long blonde hair that was almost white. It was once described as being so long she had to swing it out before she could sit down. (don't get me wrong dawn’s actress if perfect, but I will always be nostalgic for dawns hair, I wanted hair like that when I was little!)

In Claudia and Mean Janine

There was a scene at the begining of this book where Claudia had a pool party for her birthday. (likely for the best it wasn't in a show, but it was something that  rose the tension between the sisters) [This actually might have happened in the Summer Before book, which details what happened in the original 4 girls lies in the summer before the first book]

Theres a scene where Mimi and Claudia make breakfast for dinner, including waffles!

Claudia notes that Mimi pronounces iron ‘eye-ron’ and finds that nice

When Mimi was first in the hospital and Claudia was allowed to visit her, she couldn’t speak or move at all. However, Claudia realized she could blink, and came up with a system of 1 blink = yes and 2 blink = no so they could communicate.

Near the end of the book, Claudia helps Mimi with flashcards to remember words she had trouble with.

In Kirsty’s Big Day

Main thing we lost here, I am low-key salty, is the entire plot...

The Netflix episode really only had the B plot of the book.

in the book, the main plot is that because Kristy’s mom is getting married, all their relatives are coming over, and they need sitters while adults handle wedding things.

this means the entire babysitters club runs a day camp in Kirsty’s backyard to take care of everyone they’re watching.

the girls get around 125 dollars each for doing this iirc.

during the camp they did a lot of things, including but not limited to:

Stacey taking some kids to a movie

Going to the library

washing Louie the dog

taking some kids to get a hair cut

having a mock wedding like seen in the episode, but all the other kids were there (this was because it was raining that day) 

some of the kids messed up the bags of clothing for who had what (kids brought bags with wedding clothes in them) and got in trouble while the girls had to figure out who had what

Kirsty liked her dress, and kept the yellow one. it was a lot nicer in the book.

Watson took Kristy and Karen to get their dresses at the same time, as well as get the flowers for Karen to throw (she was the flower girl, but I think that stayed the same) afterwords they got ice cream.

I skipped Boy Crazy Stacey so I do not know what happened there, and I can't remember anything in particular that happened in Kirsty’s big day. Camp book was way latter in the series so I didn't get a chance to read it.

Other fun facts/ things I remember but not where they were or that happened later in the books:

In one book, Dawn and Kirsty talk with each other in Dawn’s barn (dawn has a barn) and swing from a rope hung in the rafters

Jessi later regularly babysitts a deaf child and actually learns ASL so she can communicate with him

way late in the series, the babysitters go on a cross country trip across America. this featured visiting a bunch of ball parks, four corners, the Grand Canyon, the mall of America, and some other places. 

Theres a lot more in the series but this is just some stuff I loved that I thought people who enjoyed the Netflix Series might like. If anyone wants to read the series, you can still buy some of the old books! There’s also been graphic novels of the first few books (currently being sold in Walmarts) 

Oh and if you just like Karen, she got her own spin off, the Babysitters Club Little Sister series, also being turned into graphic novels.

thx for reading this whole long post, if theres any other fans who wanna add stuff under this please do!

[peter-parkers-passport]

Flower Child (Peter Parker x ofc)

Chapter 11: Just a Nobody

I’m really sorry I haven’t been consistent in updating on this platform, I think I’ll just mass update on here and catch up to speed? Idk, it’s a lot and again, I’m sorry. I’m trying to find inspiration to write!

warnings: Peter being rude, angst, depictions of anxiety… sorry 😬, mentions of death

The pair of them didn’t leave the greenhouse until midnight that night. Papers had been scattered around a workbench in the greenhouse under a single lamplight, covered in formulas that had been scratched and edited past legibility. Lila and Peter made an incredible team, much to their surprise, and within just a few short hours, a new webbing formula had been made.

Peter also walked her home, despite Lila reassuring him that he didn’t have to. He merely brushed off her attempts and bid her goodnight at her door. And despite the crazy events, like her almost dying, she went to bed with a smile on her face. Her crush was a superhero, how could she not?

When she went to school the next day, Lila was tired but cheerful. A light kind of air sat in her chest and put her in a good mood, even with the whispers of what happened the day before following her to her locker. She supposed the feeling of falling in an elevator made things like school more enjoyable since they were a part of living, but she attributed her happiness mostly to the two boys who walked quickly over to her locker as soon as they saw her.

“Hey, Lila,” Peter said, lips twitching in a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys, what’s-?”

“So you know?” Both Lila and Peter looked to Ned, whose expression was unreadable. “About-“ His voice lowered into a whisper, “-Peter’s sticky situation?”

A patch of red grew on the boy in question’s face, and he sent an exasperated stare his friend’s way. “Dude, come on, at least think of a better code name.”

“So you know?” Ned asked Lila again, to which she nodded apprehensively. Her eyes flickered to Peter, who offered an apologetic shrug. When she looked back to Ned again, he looked relieved. “Finally. I’ve really needed this, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it a secret-“

“Ned,” Peter said, “You found out last week.”

“- I thought I was gonna blow it, but I didn’t. And now I can talk to you about how totally amazing this is.” Ned inhaled deeply, launching into a slew of questions. “So how did you know it was him? Are you psychic? Did you psychically connect to Peter, and that’s how he saved your life? Do you have, like, a spider-link now?”

“N-No, it wasn’t anything like that,” Lila answered him, Peter giving her a thankful look that she interrupted Ned’s questioning. She tucked her hair behind her ear before continuing, “Peter disappearing the night before, y-you having the Ch-Chitauri core, and - and the Stark Internship. Just… a lot of it d-didn’t add up.” Lila looked around them to see Michelle walk through the front doors. “Look, I’d b-better go before MJ gets suspicious but I’ll see you guys for fourth.”

Peter and Ned said their goodbyes while Lila walked down the hallway to her friend. Before she could reach MJ, however, Lila was stopped by Betty Brant, who had a fiercely determined look on her face. “Lila,” she practically addressed, her tone was so formal.

“B-Betty,” Lila swallowed, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Wh-What’s up?”

“Midtown is running a story on the survivors of the almost-tragic Washington Monument scare yesterday. I need to know that you’ll be available for lunch to answer a few questions with the rest of your team. I would do it now, but I don’t have my co-host.” The last sentence ended with a note of bitterness, and Lila tilted her head in concern.

“Oh n-no, where’s - where’s Jason?”

Betty rolled her eyes, “His mom called him out of first period for some stupid dentist appointment and wouldn’t cancel. I’ve told him time and time again that his mom doesn’t understand how brutally competitive journalism can get in the age of technology.” Her eyes narrowed at the apparently sour thought. “Like, she doesn’t even know how embarrassing it was to see Principal Morita’s fall after the floors were waxed with new wax on Flash’s Snapchat story first. That should’ve been our story, but no, Jason had strep throat.” Her tone grew mocking and she put air quotes around “strep throat”. There was a beat of silence, and then, “Anyways, so I’ll see you at lunch?”

At this point, Lila had been daydreaming of a way to get out of the heated one-sided argument. “Sure.”

Satisfied, Betty nodded. “Good. And don’t talk to anyone else about what happened.” She strode away, leaving Lila feeling slightly confused as she walked over to where MJ was standing, watching the whole interaction.

*****

It didn’t go unnoticed that Lila was becoming fast friends with Peter and Ned. Soon enough, in the span of the next two days, they popped up nearly everywhere in her daily life. For some, it was a welcome addition to Lila’s friend count (now up to three). For others, it was a topic of slight confusion.

“I’m not, like, unhappy for you or anything,” Sophie commented one evening in the flower shop. She was watching Peter and Ned leave through the front doors, the cooler air from the outside falling at their feet. “I just didn’t know you were so close.”

Lila and the boys had just brought over some chemicals they’d nicked from school, and finally perfected the stronger webbing for Peter. It was all discreetly put away in a box tucked underneath spare gardening supplies. The box in question was placed in a corner, out of sight and hopefully out of anyone else’s minds that weren’t Peter’s, Lila’s, or Ned’s.

The door had shut by the time Lila turned back to Sophie, a light blush on her cheeks. “Falling in an e-elevator is a surprisingly easy way to m-make friends.” The flicker of suspicion in Sophie’s eyes disappeared almost immediately at Lila’s reply, and for a moment, Lila had the gut-twisting sensation of guilt. It was confusing: she wasn’t actually lying to Sophie, but she was hiding the truth. Plummeting to her death with Ned by her side did craft a strong foundation of friendship at a remarkably fast rate. And being one of about four people who knew Peter’s secret identity also warranted spending more time together than what was considered normal. Only, she couldn’t tell anyone that last part.

Lila hated that her cover story for spending time around the two boys was her near-death experience, but even she couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Sophie stopped asking questions after her comment, and soon started addressing them with the same familiarity as she would Michelle or her dad.

Michelle, whose skepticism came as easy as breathing, wasn’t as easy to persuade. MJ knew Ned was in the elevator with Lila, and her interest in them hanging out didn’t extend farther than a simple statement of, “Ned needs to download the free VPNs I sent you. I don’t want my network data accidentally getting monitored by the government because he’s using the WiFi at your shop.” Which was fine with Lila, Ned would be one less thing to worry about in regards to her most perceptive friend.

However, with Ned deemed not a problem, MJ’s wariness was focused on Peter. If she thought he was sketchy before, it was nothing compared to how she felt after he started to hang out with Lila. Michelle wasn’t much for holding a conversation with people she didn’t know, but the times where she did talk to Peter, it almost always was staged as interrogation. Lila felt sorry for Peter, for she knew MJ was intimidating, and too smart for her own good. She also knew that Michelle’s intention was a heavily-veiled protectiveness for her friend.

Ted Landry seemed to be the only person in Lila’s life who wasn’t suspicious of her new friends. In fact, he was completely clueless. Peter being around Lila more was merely a correlation to him personally checking on her the night she got back from D.C. The worst part was that Ted told Lila that the reason Peter was starting to be around her so much was because he had a crush on her.

“It just seems kind of obvious,” Ted said, ignoring the choking noises Lila emitted after hearing her dad’s thoughts. He merely patted her on the back as she tried to dislodge the granola that she accidentally sent down the wrong pipe. “I practically did the same thing with your mom, we became inseparable.”

Lila wished above all that her dad’s thoughts were the truth. But the brief look in Peter’s eyes that appeared whenever Liz walked by the three of them in the school’s hallways sent those thoughts crawling on all fours to the back of her mind.

*****

Over the next few days, Lila grew privy to the information Peter was gathering over the last week as Spider-Man. It all started with the bank robbers that accidentally decimated Delmar’s bodega, which Lila learned were capable of doing so with the acquisition of illegal weapons. Weapons that happened to have access to alien technology.

Peter and Ned explained that someone was stealing alien technology and fashioning weapons to distribute on the black market. Their target was Damage Control, whose existence was to be the clean-up crew of the Avengers.

“For lack of a better term,” Peter went on, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hand. That Wednesday evening, Peter had Ned and Lila over after he had perused the streets of Queens as Spider-Man. It was then the two boys filled Lila in on their mission. “But basically this department’s been confiscating all the alien tech and Ultron mess for the past eight years. And the helicarriers in Washington? They’re still working on that stuff.”

“And this guy in the wingsuit… the birdman?” Lila asked, trying to keep up with the nearly unbelievable tale.

A spark emitting from one of Peter’s web shooters had him diving back with his screwdriver. Ned, meanwhile, took the reigns. “We’re pretty sure he’s their leader. But they’ve got this stuff nearly on lockdown. Peter figures he must’ve been doing it from the beginning.”

Lila looked back over to Peter, “Do you know who he is? O-Or any kind of clue?”

The web shooter made a clicking noise that seemed to satisfy Peter. He turned away from his desk and set his eyes back on Lila. Shaking his head, he answered, “No, I’ve got no idea. And he got away with some of the stuff that was in the Damage Control trucks. Best guess, I’ll just have to catch them when they’re out selling this stuff again.” He paused, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. And after a moment, he added as an afterthought, “You didn’t happen to catch what Puth assigned for homework, did you? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Peter, dinner’s on the table - Lila!” May poked her head inside Peter’s door. Lila whipped her head around to see her large grin, and heard Peter hastily slam his desk drawer shut to hide his web shooters. “I had no idea you were here!”

“Hi, May,” Lila smiled, a pale pink dusting her cheeks. “H-How are things?”

“Finer than wine, honey. I feel so bad, I would’ve made more food if I’d’ve known you guys were going to be here.” Her lips pursed briefly as an afterthought came to mind. “Actually, it might be better if you guys hit the road.”

Peter stared at his aunt exasperatedly, “Oh, c’mon May-“

“Uh-uh,” her expression was suddenly stern when her eyes fell on him, “If you’re going to ditch class, then you’re not going to have friends over.” She softened her gaze when she moved back over to Lila and Ned. “You guys need a ride home?”

Lila grabbed her backpack, eyeing Peter and feeling confused. Why would he ditch class? Peter’s eyes met hers before answering her with a jerk of the head to his desk, where the web shooters lay hidden.

“No,” Lila finally answered, brushing off Peter’s answer with a wave of dismay. “N-No, thanks. My neighborhood’s just f-five blocks over.”

*****

Betty Brant released her story on Thursday morning. Apparently Jason actually did have a pretty awful tooth infection, and wasn’t able to co-anchor her story until then. When Lila walked into school, the conversation, which had just begun to die down, picked right back up, and attention was back on the academic decathlon.

Everyone at Midtown pretty much knew of Lila and her inability to confidently socialize with peers, but that didn’t stop them from pointing at her while poorly concealing whispers. So she was left to navigate the crowded hallways alone, doing her best to ignore the eyes that followed her and the sounds of the news story reporting on her brush with death. One thing she did manage to catch was Jason saying, “Thankfully, no one was seriously injured, thanks to Spider-Man. Up next, the Spider mania is sweeping the school, how can you show your Spider spirit?”

And Jason wasn’t wrong. The talk of Spider-Man was re-invigorated at the school news’ story, and if they weren’t talking about the decathlon team, they were talking about Spider-Man. Some people wore shirts they bought from street vendors, and talked about how amazing he was. Flash was the biggest proponent of this, boasting about how Spider-Man made a harrowing rescue, pulling Flash out of harm’s way just in time, and giving him a fist bump right afterwards. All of which was untrue, and Charles and Abraham we’re glad to remind everyone around Flash of the fact.

Lila felt a deep sense of pride as she made her way down the stairs and past the mural. She knew Peter must’ve been at school, and hearing all of the positive thoughts everyone had on his secret identity. She could feel it in the air: pride. A sense of pride that one of New York’s own was a hero, a champion of Queens. Even Lila herself felt that pride, but for other reasons entirely.

She ran into Ned first, who was beaming at the television screen in the corner of the hall. The two of them shared a knowing smile, and the pair launched into a quiet conversation about it in the otherwise loud hallways. Ned spotted Peter ahead of the two of them, and pushed around the students in his way. He and Lila met Peter at the foot of the stairs, all three grinning from ear to ear.

“Dude, dude, dude, what is it like being famous when no one knows it’s you?” Ned asked.

Rather modestly, Peter smiled and gripped the straps of his backpack. “It’s crazy,” he whispered, looking around to make sure other people weren’t listening.

“Crazy,” Ned repeated, almost in awe. “Should we tell everyone?”

Peter still smiled, but his head tilted a little in confusion, “No.”

“Should I tell everyone?”

“No, dude, that’s not a good idea.”

Ned looked to Lila, “Lila could tell everyone.”

“I-I would not,” Lila said, briefly panicked. She felt better seeing Peter let out a breathy laugh. “Really, I w-wouldn’t do it.”

Ned sighed, his hopes dashed. “Well, come on, we’re gonna be late to class.”

Lila was prepared to bid them goodbye, since their classes were on opposite sides of the hallway, but Peter didn’t follow Ned. “I’m not going to class.”

Ned looked at Lila and looked back, apprehensive, “You're already in so much trouble for ditching the decathlon-“

“P-Peter, you can’t keep d-ditching school-“

“Would you listen? I figured it out, right?” Peter’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m going to see if my suit can go back to the deal I walked in on the night of Liz’s party and find out where those guys came from. Maybe they can lead me to the wing suit guy, and then I can catch him!”

“But we have a Spanish quiz,” Ned argued.

Peter looked at Ned with an expression that felt a little belittling. He was tired of arguing and clearly didn’t see why Ned and Lila would want him to stay in school. It was a kind of reckless determination that didn’t sit well with Lila at all. “Ned, I’m probably never going to come back here. Mr. Stark is moving the Avengers upstate. So, when I bring this guy in-“

“Dude,” All the excitement from the morning was gone from Ned. “You wanna be a high school dropout?”

“It wouldn’t be like that,” Peter assured him, even though that’s exactly what it sounded like.

“Ned’s right, Peter, you can’t - you can’t just skip school t-to fight crime. High school’s important-“

But Peter wasn’t listening. In fact, he started walking away. “I am so far beyond high school, right now.” And as he turned to a pair of doors that led to the exit, Principal Morita stood in his way.

“Ah, Mr. Parker,” he said, already walking back down the hallway. “Come with me, my office. Ned, Lila, get to class.”

*****

“Here, c’mon,” MJ pulled at Lila’s arm. The girls had a free period, and usually spent it in the library. Lila has fully planned on spending it pretending to do her homework when in actuality she was just going to worry about Peter.

Skipping school just wasn’t like him. Lila thought he was getting caught up in his situation. True, it was extraordinary beyond belief, and there was no way to tell how she would handle it, but she thought Peter had more grit than what he was showing. School was important, almost if not equally as important as the crime Peter fought in the afternoons.

And then there was the issue of Tony Stark, and Peter’s idea of where he stood. Peter had the mindset that he had to prove himself to Tony Stark in order to be fully accepted into a world he’d always dreamt of, but that made little sense to Lila. In her mind, Tony Stark already was accepting of Peter. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given Peter the suit.

Those were the thoughts Lila distracted herself with in her first two periods, anyway. She’d planned on delving further into her worry during her free time next period. That is, until MJ changed their plans. “And where are we going?” Lila asked, allowing herself to be steered by her taller friend.

“I’ve been sketching the kids in detention,” she answered, ”Lila, they’re the perfect inspiration: they basically all just sit and wonder if they’re lives are going to spiral out of control. Like first, it’s detention, next it’s prison. I mean, you can’t get that kind of raw panic anywhere else.”

“I’m slightly worried you seem so excited about this,” Lila muttered, filing into the classroom where detention was being held. Coach Wilson was already perched at the desk, the TV on the stand waiting to play the Captain America tape that was at the ready. Michelle sat at the edge of the classroom, and Lila sat with her, already pulling out her homework.

She thought she got a few odd stares from the one or two kids that were further in the room, since Lila had never been in any kind of trouble in her life. Even though her presence wasn’t mandatory, she was still unsettled at the thought of being so close to a trouble she had no interest in ever being a part of. She only felt slightly better when Peter walked through the door as the bell rang. He eyed her suspiciously, and seemingly answered his own question when his gaze slid over to Michelle, who was already sketching away.

Peter looked antsy. Sitting in his seat, Lila could see the tension in his shoulders as Coach Wilson lazily went over the rules of detention from his desk chair. He proceeded to play the clip of Captain America lecturing the kids in detention, but Lila could tell Peter wasn’t taking in a word of it. She was considering shooting him a text when suddenly he shot up and grabbed his backpack. He marched out of the room without another word.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lila made the decision to go after him. She told Michelle she’d be right back and hurried after her friend. When she caught up to him, he’d reached the row of lockers where he hid things and lifted it one-handed. Despite her worry, Lila watched him in awe, having to take a second to adjust to the fact that he did actually have super strength.

When the moment ended, her sense caught up to her. “Peter!” She called out, jogging the rest of the way up to him. He turned, impatience dotting across his features. “You can’t go.”

“Lila, I don’t have time-“

“But you do,” She insisted. “Y-You do have time. You can’t just - just leave.”

“Yes, I can,” Peter actually rolled his eyes. It stung Lila more than she thought it would. “Look, you don’t understand, I’ve gotta do this for Mr. Stark. Now, I’ve really gotta go.”

He tried to turn away, but in a bold move, Lila grabbed his arm, “T-Tony Stark is a c-certified genius, and even he stayed in school. Why can’t you?”

“Because when the Avengers move upstate, I’ve gotta be there. The best school I could have would be by learning from him. Who knows, maybe - maybe I’ll get a tutor or something-“

“P-Peter, you’re chasing a-approval from someone who already gave it to you. I mean - look at what y-you’ve already done. The whole school’s b-been talking about it for the entire w-week.”

“Lila,” irritation at still being in school was what made Peter grow short. Lila flinched at the tone. “You don’t get it. I can do so much more if he could just see it, that’s why I’ve gotta go.”

“You do so much, Peter. You - you saved my life twice-“

Peter snapped, “Lila, stop. I’ve made up my mind. I can’t just be Peter Parker anymore, you know? I finally have a chance to prove that I’m so much more than just a nobody now. Because while that might be fine for you, it’s not for me.” The words left his mouth harsh and bitter before his mind could even keep up. Peter didn’t even realize what he’d said until he watched Lila take a step back.

White hot anger burned her skin and flushed her face. Hurt came quickly after, and Lila blinked furiously to stop the tears from rushing to the surface. She released a short breath and made eye contact with Peter. He felt bad, she could tell, but he didn’t offer any kind of apology.

So much for being friends.

“You w-wonder what that life is like, Peter? Being an - an Avenger?” Her voice was quiet, more quiet than normal, but the emotion seemed to amplify it down the empty hallways. “I’ll t-tell you. It’s staring d-down at people who are dead for the sole r-reason that pure evil just likes it that way. It’s being unable to s-save the people you love most, and l-living with that when all is said and - and done.”

“Lila, I-“

She angrily brushed the lone tear away that managed to escape. “You wanna hear wh-what I think? I think that if - if Tony Stark wanted you to b-be like him, he would’ve given you an I-Iron Man suit. Instead he gave you the Spider-Man suit. But what do I know, r-right? I’m just a nobody.” She gave Peter, the boy who broke her heart, one last look. “Good luck out there.”

And she turned around, walking away from Peter Parker with a few tears falling down her face.

[makinglifebetter]

Hi. Hello. And welcome.

This blog will be about changes I need to make in my life. Below the cut *points to the 'keep reading' below* I'll explain in more detail.

If you don't want to read about the changes I'll be making, you can check out my TikTok and see them in action.

When I opened my TikTok account over a year ago, it was just so I could follow my favorite creators. But over the past several months, it has become clear that I need to make some major changes in my life. I need to be held accountable to make, and stick with, those changes. And what better way, than by putting it all out there for complete strangers to see?

I don't expect anyone to like or follow, this is one hundred percent for me. So, please, do not feel obligated to like or follow.

On to the reason for these changes.

I always say that I've always been overweight, but that's just not true. I have pictures of myself where I am a normal weight. I didn't actually start putting on the pounds until two things happened: 1) I hit puberty (or rather it hit me) and 2) I was diagnosed as having scoliosis.

I was told that my curvature was just a couple of degrees shy of needing surgery but was low enough on my spine to not need the brace that went up my neck (I remember looking at the x-ray and wondering how I wasn't a hunchback).

I was required to wear the brace twenty-three hours a day. That included gym class and bathing (according to my mother). It was incredibly uncomfortable and I hated the way it was obvious I was wearing it.

I became an introvert because of it.

My weight has fluctuated over the years, as most overweight people's weight has. When I graduated from high school, I was at my lowest. Several years ago I found out I was at my highest.

February 14, 2020, started as any other day. But when I got up to get ready for work, the room spun a bit. I suffer from vertigo so thought nothing of it. Until I was standing at the sink, brushing my teeth. The attack was so bad, I was clutching the counter to keep from falling down.

I texted my boss (luckily she also suffers from vertigo). She told me to rest and feel better.

As the day went on, I started to cough and I knew that meant I was getting my yearly cold. Now, I rarely get sick the same time every year. I usually get sick between September and December with November being the month I get sick the most often. I had my yearly cold in February of 2015 and it turned into pneumonia (the week I moved into this apartment). One memorable year, I had it the week of my birthday. In July.

I cannot remember if I told my mother and daughter I was calling off sick. But the next day, my mother called me. As soon as I answered she told me to call the doctor and she would take me.

While there, they became concerned about my blood pressure. They were afraid I would either have a heart attack or stroke out. So, they sent us to the emergency room.

While at the clinic, they did a rapid strep and a rapid flu test. Both came back negative.

At the hospital, they did the tests again. The nurse that did the swab, shoved it so roughly down my throat, I threw up all over myself.

Those tests also came back negative.

My mother says they told her I had the flu but none of my paperwork says that. Sepsis is all over my paperwork, but other than the negative flu test, it's not mentioned. I think I might have had COVID but since I got on broad-spectrum antibiotics early, it wasn't able to truly infect me.

They admitted me and began treating me for high blood pressure and type 2 diabetes. And something about my good cholesterol being too low?

I felt fine until early evening on Sunday. I'm not sure what time I fell asleep, but it was early. I think I woke briefly Monday morning and moved from the bed to the chair. But then I slept all of Monday. Or rather, I couldn't open my eyes and interact with the doctors and nurses. Until late afternoon. I woke up, my mother convinced me to order something to eat (I ordered toast and ate half of one slice), and then I was asleep again a little after seven (I know based on what was on the TV at the time).

Tuesday I was fine. It was like nothing had happened the day before. In fact, they discharged me that evening.

While in the hospital, I lost thirty pounds. Then lost another nine pounds over the next few months. But then I put some back on. I am currently (as of 7/15/21) four pounds heavier than when I left the hospital in February of 2020 which, considering how I eat, is something of a mystery to me.

My A1C is still over seven and my readings, while consistently under 150, are not where me or my doctor want them.

I told her that I want to lose twenty pounds and not have to take insulin before a meal by the time I see her again in October. The only way I can make that happen is by changing how I eat (something I already started). I know I need to exercise as well, but I don't really have room for that.

So, starting tomorrow, I will be posting TikToks of my glucose readings and what I'm eating. And of my attempts at getting my house cleaner.

And the other reason for the change is I have been in this horrible place six years too long (I moved in in February of 2015) and I am more than ready to move.

But I have a bug problem. I know I have contributed to it, I'm not the best housekeeper, but a lot of it is from when a neighbor moved out two or three years ago.

Before I move, I want to be as bug free as I can be so that I don't risk taking any of them with me.

I have tried in the past to have someone hold me accountable but it didn't really work. They never asked for pictures and if I said I didn't feel well, they didn't tell me to do at least the dishes or pick up trash. I'm not putting all the blame on them, I am the one who didn't want to clean and knew they wouldn't tell me I needed to despite not wanting to.

So, I will post at least three vids a day, with the exception of when I go out to eat or to do my laundry at my mother's. I will still take a screenshot of my glucose reading, but I won't be showing what I ate. I don't really want to have to explain it to my parents.

If you want, you are more than free to poke me if I don't post a vid by a time certain. I do not expect anyone to take me up on this, but just thought I'd put it out there.

If you've stuck around this long, thank you for reading.

Thank you for stopping by. Don't be a stranger!