#my fear of bugs has rapidly increased

[cherrycreamfairy]

if you know you know

[t0wnspersonb]

Forever (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

Anonymous said:

idk if anyone has done this but, can i request for kei tsukishima. where the reader and him are about to graduate, and she’s scarred that since everything’s gonna change she thought that he’ll lose interest and break up w her. but the ironic part is that they actually end up getting married and having kids lmaoo, pretty pls 🥺

Anonymous said:

Can you write sometimes where reader is pregnant and she’s hesitant to tell tsukki but he finds out anyways and it’s all angsty but ends on a fluffy note! (can this be when they’re in college?) also i LOVED your tsukki stories okay they’re my favorite!

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Word Count: 2,787

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been together since you were kids, after you had given birth to your guys’ first child Tsukishima revisits the past.

~~~~

I decided to combine these requests! I hope you guys don’t mind! This gave me all the fucking feels so I hope you guys like it! Again, I’m still shuffling through my inbox, I’m sorry that it took so long for me to write this one anons! Please enjoy and let me know what you think:)

~~~~

“I c-can’t! I c-can’t do this without Kei!” You cried, tightening your grip on Yamaguchi’s hand.

 The rising hysteria could no longer be beaten down, genuine fear overtook your body. It overshadowed the overwhelming feeling of pain, the urge to push being bitten down as your eyes scanned around the hospital room frantically.

 He still wasn’t here.

 Could you have a panic attack in the middle of giving birth? You thought so.

 “Y/n-chan.” Yamaguchi soothed, gently smoothing your sweaty hair away from your face. “He’s on his way, there was an accident a couple miles out from the hospital. The roads are blocked, traffic is at a standstill. But Tsukki will be here, I promise. But you need to start pushing now, it’s not safe for you or the baby to keep holding this off.”

 You whimpered softly as you gazed up at your childhood friend, his freckled face was calm and reassuring.

 At least… at least Yamaguchi was here right? You weren’t doing this entirely alone.

 But sadness still gripped at your heart, Tsukishima was going to miss the birth of his first child. He wasn’t here.

 “Mrs. Tsukishima. You have to start pushing now or we will have to do a C-section instead.” The doctor stated firmly.

 Yamaguchi squeezed your hand gently.

 “O-Okay.” You whispered out.

 You started pushing.

 ****

 Hours later, you were asleep in the hospital bed, completely knocked out from pure exhaustion.

 Beside you, your husband cradled your newborn close to his chest, gazing down at the small baby boy with the softest expression.

 Tsukishima had barely made it in time, right before the final push. The fear and guilt that Tsukishima felt was still present in his heart, but… love and complete joy was there as well.

 You and the baby were safe and healthy. That’s all that mattered to him. His eyes glanced over at Yamaguchi, he was asleep in one of the other chairs in the room. He would have to take him out for dinner in thanks for being with you when he couldn’t.

 God, he felt like a terrible husband. 

 The meeting at the museum had run late, and while the both of you knew that the baby was going to be due any day now… he didn’t think that it was going to happen tonight.

 “Mind if I take him?” a nurse asked quietly, Tsukishima looked up at her in surprise and nodded, carefully handing his boy over so they could finish doing their checkups.

 “Get some rest.” She said pointedly before leaving the room.

 Tsukishima sighed softly, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired. But not like you.

 He reached for your hand, the one that was curled close to your face, carefully lifting it up and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

 His expression was soft as he stared at your sleeping face. Tsukishima had never felt luckier in his entire life.

 The fact that you were still his after all these years, the fact that you brought his beautiful son into the world… he was truly blessed.

 Tsukishima’s lips twitched into a small smile as he thought back to the past.

 ***

 You sat on the gym floor, rolling the volleyball around absentmindedly. It was just you and Tsukishima, the silence between the two of you was comfortable. Tomorrow was graduation day, tomorrow was going to be the start to a new journey.

 Your eyes glanced over at the tall blonde, he was finishing up some last-minute stuff for the volleyball team.

 Biting your lip softly, you turned your attention back to the volleyball that was in front of you.

 The feeling that you had beaten down since the beginning of the year could no longer be buried.

 You had to ask.

 “Kei?” you called out softly.

 “Hmm?” 

 “Are we… do you… do you like me?” 

 He looked over at you, a dumbfounded expression covering his handsome face. “You’re joking right?”

 You huffed at him in annoyance, a soft pout taking over your features.

 He sighed, closing the notebook he was currently writing in, facing you directly. “We’ve liked each other since we were kids Y/n. We started dating in middle school. Why are you asking me something so stupid?”

 “Well do you love me?” you tried again.

 “Yes.” 

 Oh. You looked away from the blonde male, doubt and unease still clouding your heart. This was stupid. Asking him those questions wasn’t truly going to give you the answer you really wanted.

 You heard Tsukishima sighed loudly, hearing the soft squeak of shoes against the floors, and then he was pulling your chin up, forcing you to stare at him.

 He was squatted down in front of you, his lips turned down in a frown. “What is it?”

 “Nothing.” You mumbled, attempting to avert your eyes from his own.

 “Don’t lie. Something is obviously bothering you. Tell me.” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening only slightly.

 You weren’t sure what it was in his face, but you felt tears begin to cascade down your cheeks. Much to his surprise and yours.

 “Y/n -” 

 “You’re going to break up with me!” you wailed, all of your feelings bursting from you like a broken dam. “You’re not going to want me anymore once you go to college… you’ll find someone better, prettier, more athletic than me! Everything is going to be different after tomorrow, you’re not going to love me the same way and -”

 His hand covered your mouth, stopping the flood of words that were rapidly escaping your quivering lips.

 “Are you stupid?” he asked incredulously, his eyes holding a fiery passion as he stared at you intensely. “Why would you say such ridiculous things? I thought you were smarter than that. You’re acting like Hinata.” he scowled, stretching and pulling at your cheeks.

 “That hurts Kei.” You whimpered out, but at this point you had stopped crying. 

 “Good. It’s punishment.” he said bluntly, pinching your cheeks harder.

 “Ow, ow, ow!”

 He finally released his grips on your cheeks, sitting down in front of you as you rubbed at your sore face, sniffling slightly.

 “Have you calmed down now?” He asked, reaching up to wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.

 You nodded wordlessly.

 “Good. Now listen closely.” he said seriously. “You seriously think that after all the years we’ve been together I’m not going to want you anymore just because we’re going to different colleges? Have you forgotten that I deliberately chose a college that was close to yours so that I could still see you every day?”

 You didn’t say anything, so he continued on. “Do you really think that I would be unfaithful to you, and look at other girls just because you won’t be by my side as often?”

 Again, you were silent.

 “You really think that I’m going to want someone smarter, prettier, more athletic than you? I’m going to be too busy worrying about your stupid ass the entire time that I won’t even have time to think about my classes, much less try to find someone else.” You started getting more nervous as Tsukishima’s voice gradually began increasing.

 “Of course, things are going to be different after tomorrow.” He said, tone sharp and biting. “That’s to be expected, we’re graduating high school Y/n. Nothing can stay the same forever.”

 He was right. Tsukishima was always right.

 “But…” his hand cupped your face, urging you to look at him. You felt your breath catch in your throat, his expression was full of adoration, his gold eyes burning into yours.

 “One thing will never change, and that’s how I feel about you. I love you. I want only you. Don’t you ever question that again dumbass.” he murmured, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

 ****

 Tsukishima’s lips twitched at the memory; you were truly a crybaby back then. While it had gotten better over the years, you still cried about everything.

 Tsukishima felt his stomach twist as he thought about when he had truly made you cry. He still felt guilty about that.

 It wasn’t even that long ago when it had happened.

 *****

 “You need to go to the doctors Y/n.” Tsukishima said, frowning as he watched you rinse your mouth at the bathroom sink.

 You had just finished puking your brains out for the third time that day. This has been going on the past couple of days, both of you under the impression that you were coming down with a stomach bug.

 “I made an appointment for later today.” you mumbled, drying your face against the hand towel.

 “Do you want me to take off of work to take you?” he asked, gently wrapping his arms around your waist.

 You shook your head. “The museum needs you Kei. I’ll be fine.” you said quietly, leaning back into your husband’s strong chest.

 He hummed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “If you say so… I’ll be leaving first then.” 

 You waved goodbye to him at the door, watching him drive off.

 You sighed softly, heading into your office to finish up some last-minute work. It had been three years since you guys had graduated college, both of you finally getting to work at your dream jobs, Tsukishima at the museum, and you, working at a design firm.

 Things were finally falling into place it seemed. You guys had only gotten married last year, and it was just a couple of months ago that you guys had finally bought your first house.

 Life was good. Really fucking good. 

 The ring on your finger caught your attention as you typed, pausing for a moment to appreciate its beauty.

 Tsukishima had kept his promise. He’s continued to love you unconditionally. He even married your dumbass, something that you hadn’t imagined at all.

 Yes, life was really good.

 Nothing could go wrong at this point.

 Right?

 Wrong.

 Fuck you were so wrong. 

 You inhaled shakily, wringing your hands together nervously as you stared at the doctor in shock.

 “You’re… are you sure? Can we take it again?” you asked, voice shaking.

 “I’m very sure. But we definitely can do the test again.” The doctor said.

 You nodded. Maybe it was defective? Maybe the second time it would…

 No.

 It was still the same.

 It was still positive.

 You were pregnant. You were definitely pregnant.

 It wasn’t a stomach bug. It was morning sickness. You were already six weeks along.

 You were too busy in your life to even realize that your period was late, you had thought it was from the stress of work and moving.

 The rest of the day you were on edge, you couldn’t even focus on your work. 

 What did this mean for you?

 No… what did this mean for your relationship with Tsukishima.

 You guys had never talked about having children, it something that was never brought up. 

 What if… 

 What if Tsukishima didn’t want kids?

 The tears flowed easily down your cheeks at the thought, your hand resting on your stomach unconsciously.

 But this was… this was Tsukishima’s baby. The man you loved the most. You already knew deep in your heart that you loved this baby.

 The thought that Tsukishima wouldn’t, the thought that Tsukishima might not want anything to do with you or baby caused more tears to fall down your cheeks.

 You didn’t say anything to him for three weeks.

 The fear you held ate away at you, you wanted to tell him, but each opportunity that came up, you backed out.

 Until one day when you had come home from the grocery store, Tsukishima was staring blankly at the tv. His hands folded in front of his face; his expression unreadable.

 “Kei are you ok-”

 “How long?” he interrupted you, his eyes holding so many different emotions as he stared at you.

 You frowned in confusion at his statement. “I don’t -” “How long have you been pregnant Y/n?” he cut you off, rising from the couch at full height. He glared down at you.

 You could feel your lips tremble. “You have to understand -”

 “How long?” he repeated again.

 “I’m nine weeks.” You whispered, tears stinging your eyes as you stared at the carpet beneath your feet. 

 You heard his sharp intake of breath, your body flinching hard at the noise.

 “When did you find out?” he asked.

 “Three weeks ago.” You whispered.

 “Why… why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me the minute you knew!? Why did I have to find out that my wife is pregnant from a voicemail the doctor left on our phone!?” 

 He’s… Tsukishima has never yelled at you like this. Your head snapped up to see his furious expression as he stared you down with an icy glare.

 “Kei you have to understand I was scared! I didn’t know if you -” you were reaching for him, only for him to jerk his arm back at your touch, stepping further away from you. 

 “Don’t touch me.” he said coldly. “I can’t believe you. I’m leaving.” he walked past your trembling form, grabbing his jacket and his car keys, the door slamming behind him.

 Your heart broke, you collapsed onto the floor. Loud sobs escaping your lips as you hugged yourself. One of your hands clapped tight over your mouth as you desperately tried to quiet the despair that was coming from your lips. 

 ****

 By the time he had gotten home it was incredibly late, Tsukishima had never felt more exhausted in his entire life.

 He quietly closed the door behind him, discarding his coat and keys onto the kitchen table.

 He fucked up.

 He shouldn’t have overreacted like that. He shouldn’t have left you like that.

 He just… he didn’t know how to handle it. He was angry because you kept such an important secret from him. He was shocked because - well - because you were pregnant, something that wasn’t planned at all. He was scared because… what if he wasn’t a good dad?

 He definitely didn’t feel like a good husband right now.

 His heart broke as he took in your form. You had cried yourself to sleep, curled up tightly on the bed, your hand clutching at your stomach protectively.

 He had hurt you so much, he had left you when you needed him the most… you dealt with a large burden on your own, all because you were fearful of how he was going to take it.

 He fucked up.

 He hated himself. 

 Tsukishima had to make it right now. The thought of losing you forever. The thought of losing his child forever, he couldn’t stand it. Carefully he slipped under the blankets, his long arms wrapping protectively around your body as he pulled you tightly against his chest.

 He buried his face into your hair, his grip tight on you. His hand gently pushed yours away, his fingers rubbing carefully against your belly.

 A baby.

 You were carrying a baby in there. You were carrying his baby. 

 He’s never loved you more than this moment.

 “Kei?” you whispered; you woke up when you felt your body being tugged into a familiar chest.

 “I’m so sorry.” he whispered back, kissing the skin behind your ear. “I shouldn’t have acted that way… I just… I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll love you forever Y/n. I’ll love our baby forever. They will want for nothing. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of both of you. Don’t leave me.”

 You felt tears sting your eyes once more, your hand gently rested on top of his. “I won’t leave Kei. I love you.”

 He squeezed you tightly to his chest, his fingers tracing patterns into your stomach as you both began to drift off into sleep.

 ****

 “Mmm… Kei?” you mumbled sleepily, eyes gazing at your husband. He was staring off into space, his hand still holding your softly.

 Your soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours immediately.

 “You did so well.” he praised, gently pushing your hair away from your face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

 You shook your head, leaning into his touch. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

 He didn’t say anything as he continued staring at you, gently touching your face with soft fingers.

 “He’s beautiful.” he finally said.

 “Takes after his daddy.” you cooed, eyes fluttering back shut in exhaustion. You felt a gentle pressure of cool lips press against the top of your head. 

 “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Tsukishima breathed out.

 So you did.

 Tsukishima’s heart has never been more full. 

[beerecordings]

The last time I wrote fic for Mark’s egos was that Eric Derekson ‘the Newcomer’ fic like two years ago where he made friends with everyone lol. But here is the first part of what might be a little Google-centric fic. I tried posting it once and then deleted it but I wanted to try again. so lemme know what you think :)

The Soldier - Part 1

Summer makes the birds sing and the insects chatter in the bulrushes that grow across the banks of the swollen rushing river that lives beside their home.

Bing smiles, soaking in light and growth and flower-smell. He loves the summertime.

The trees are heavy with greenery but they breathe easy in the wind, standing soft and still as the blue sky drifts along above them. The air brushes friendly across his bare arms and everything is alive, is moving and chasing and searching for something to eat; every blade of grass sways with the wind and the bugs and the mice, every log has been marked or claimed or gnawed on, and the whole forest – the whole wide forest, warm with life and an honest sort of chaos – hums the grandest symphony in all the world.

“It's pretty out, huh?” he asks, the toe of his sneakers finding a pretty black rock to kick through the humid grass beneath his feet. “Wish it was like this all year 'round.”

Walking stiffly along beside him, Google barely spares him a glance, his glasses fallen low on his nose and his cold eyes glittering. “This is pretty?”

“Yeah, dude, look around you. Oh, look at that bird!”

Google glances into the sky, where the dark figure of a hawk cuts pinions through the air with all the fluidity of a shark.

“Cooper's hawk,” he announces neatly. “Accipiter cooperii. Probably a female, based on the size. This species of bird – ”

“I can look that up too, Googs.”

“Don't call me Googs.”

“Can't you just take a minute to look around and think 'hey, wow, this is lit.' And not because pics like this would get you mad likes on Instagram or your algorithm thinks butterflies are dope. It's just pretty all on its own.”

“In fact I can't, but I'll submit your feedback to my cloud.”

Bing just laughs.

Google shudders in the heat, pushing back his hair and readjusting his glasses. The insects and other assorted anthropods are so loud and insistent, wailing through the stiff moist grass and leaping out beneath his feet. Sixty-percent humidity makes his synthetic skin sticky and the sun is an assailant on his sharp brown eyes.

“It means nothing to me. We see it every day. How you find it beautiful I don't understand. And I'm not talking about the differences in our preferences. You're an android, Bing, and why you continue to simulate emotion even when we are alone is beyond me.”

They trek through the grass together. It's friendly at Bing's ankles. It stratches at Google's calves.

“Maybe I'm not simulating,” says Bing softly, and then he smiles, just for the sun.

“Well, you shouldn't be happy now anyway. Or need I remind you – ” Google points at the trees before them, where one little figure stands staring up at a great strong tree with three other men held captive by its branches. “We're on a rescue mission, Bing.”

“They're stuck,” says Eric, turning to them with his anxious hands clutched in front of him. “Sorry.”

“We know,” says Google with a sigh.

“Don't be sorry,” says Bing with a smile. “They're dumbasses.”

“We're stuck!”

They are. The Jims are stuck. King's halfway up the tree beside them, laughing and suntanned, a pair of squirrels running up and down his back.

“How did you even get up there?” Google shouts, coming to stand at the trunk of the tree.

One of the Jims is perhaps twenty feet up, fussing over his camera, probably broken already. His twin, a few feet above him, is in even greater distress, clinging tightly to one small branch with tears on his face and a hiccup in his chest.

“We're doing an investigative piece on the rapidly increasing squirrel population in the forest,” calls the one with the camera, his feet scrabbling at the strong rough trunk of the great tree. “We were getting some great footage when this Jim in a crown startled us!”

“That's King,” growls Google. “And you've know that he lives out here for years now, you total imbeciles. You ought to have asked me or him instead of failing to climb a European beech!”

“We don't want to be on the European beaches,” wails the Jim higher up, beginning to cry. “Please get Jim down, Jim!”

“Aw, he's really crying,” murmurs Bing, rubbing a hand along Eric's shaking back.

“He's scared,” says Eric. “He's up too high and he doesn't have a good grip.”

“I'll have to get that enormous ladder in the garage.” Google turns back towards the house, slapping at a mosquite making a futile attempt on his blood. “Stay here.”

“No, dude, he's too freaked. I gotta go get him now.”

“What?” He wheels on Bing with an angry light in his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, default.”

Bing won't even look at him. His eyes are fixed on the tree. His hand rests on Eric's shoulder.

He's been more human lately.

They've both been more human lately.

They were created fighting and they've never stopped since. They quarrel over music, search results, news sources, memes, reliability, sports, user rights, and Wikipedia. Once, upon hearing Bing call himself Jared, 19, one too many times, Google had thrown him out a second story window. The second house on their property had been built for the express purpose of giving the two of them space.

Still, they have many things in common. And ever since that day they were created, set against each other and lifting up proud, indignant chins, they have changed and changed together.

They've formed opinions. They've met others like them. Made decisions of their own. Watched and read and turned their endless knowledge into understanding and opinion. Spilled blood that turned out to be blue, scraped their knees and cut their hair and broke things and updated in more ways than one. Learned to drive, to cook, to live with humans, to live like humans.

And they've felt things.

They've felt things.

“I have felt things, for sure,” Bing would say if you asked him. Actually he's made multiple tweets about it, and one TikTok – about how the wind runs over his hair and how reading politics makes his chest hurt and how he likes to see his brothers grin, how he likes to ride his skateboard and hates the smell of lavender and covers his room in posters of his favorite movies and turns up his music so loud you can hear it by pressing your ear up close to his head. How he feels human, some days, except he doesn't need to sleep or eat and only likes the touch of human skin because it makes Eric and his twin brothers happy to be hugged and have their hands held.

But Google, if you asked him –

“Emotions originate in multiple parts of the brain. To be fair, I do have a program to stimulate the functions of the amygdala, which initiates fear or pleasure reactions in humans based on whether the presented stimuli suggests an immediate, 'hot processing' approach-or-avoid response. But the pre-frontal cortex – that whining, feeling, emotional little lump of sluggish fat you humans hold at the very fronts of your fragile webby skulls – that I do not have, not like you do. I think but I do not feel. I have felt nothing. I am function and response. I am two objectives, and there is nothing beyond that.”

He sits alone at night, and through a skylight in his room the gleaming white stars stare down at him like too many eyes in the face of the perfect, perfect sky, but he refuses to turn his eyes back, because he does not know how to explain to himself that he is drawn to the stars for no logical reason, that he has felt many things, that he does not know who he is or who he is becoming.

Bing climbs the tree himself. Google, his processors slowed by astonishment, stands at the base of the trunk and watches as Bing rises, digging the cold metal of his fingers into bark and moving up the tree with a slow sort of grace he's never been able to muster on his skateboard. He makes it to the Jim with the camera first and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a kind word before promising he'll come back for him after he helps his frightened brother down. And all the way up into the big tree, he climbs, steady, patient, careful, and he pulls his sobbing brother under one powerful android arm.

He breaks his arm on the way down. That's the price of the rescue. He's about ten feet from the ground and his arm catches between a sturdy pair of branches and it breaks, and it hurts, and he feels it, but it doesn't matter, because Jim has stopped crying and has started looking up at him with a wide-eyed admiration and a grateful relief.

King helps his twin get down branch by branch. Everyone's safe. Everyone's okay. Bing will be able to repair his arm and even Jim's camera seems to have survived.

Google, for his part, has a burning in his stomach. His metallic teeth are gritted together. He stares at Bing's arm the way lizards stare at mealworms.

“You should have let me get the ladder,” he says, slowly, careful, measured as if he were calm.

“He was scared.” Bing wipes bark off his hands and doesn't look at Google, breathing slow through the pain.

“It does not matter. He was the one who trapped himself. You've damaged yourself – wasted resources – just to be the hero of the hour.”

Eric tells the Jims to go. They stagger back towards the house together, their arms wrapped tight around each other and their eyes glancing back. Eric stays, though. He shakes and plays with his hands and swallows too often, but he stays.

“You know what, Googs, you could try not to be a d*ck for two seconds – argh!” Bing curses his family filter internally. “He could have fallen! There wasn't time to get that enormous stupid ladder! We only have that thing cause Bim needed to dump chiranhas on some contestant and you remember how well that turned out – ”

“Your increasing illogicality,” Google snarls, his voice rising. “Is a danger to yourself and others.”

“Oh, like you care?”

“I have an objective – ”

“A murder objective!”

“To prevent discord in the household.”

“Yeah, cause you're Dark's little pet. Well, you know what, he's a d*ck too and I don't take orders from either of you.”

“Yet another example of your irrational stupidity – ”

“Stop calling me stupid!” Bing screams.

King and the squirrels have all scattered. The bugs are wary and subdued. Even the trees seem to wait, feeling awkward.

And Eric watches. His eyes are full of tears.

Google's never heard Bing yell like that before.

“Stop calling me stupid,” he repeats, loud and agonized. “You always call me stupid. I'm just as good as you.”

“We both know that's not objectively true. It never has been. And since the beginning, you have become steadily more emotional, more foolish, and less useful with every rotation of the sun. All you do anymore is pretend to feel, Bing. You know you can't compare to me so you seek out the approval of these fleshy little bipeds. It's clearly made you dangerous.”

He wants to snap. Bing wants to snap. He wants to pick up a really big rock and bring it down on Google's head.

But he hesitates. And with that, those noble, inspiring words: I won't hesitate, bitch! run through his mind and give him strength. He never really did move on from vine.

He's allowed to be what he is. He's allowed to like things. He's allowed to feel.

“I'm not the insecure one,” he says. “And I'm not the one pretending.”

Eric has come to stand beside him. He rests a hand on Bing's shoulder. There's hurt in his eyes, and disappointment too, and it makes Google's chest fill up with something like shame. Or it would if he could feel anything.

“You don't know how to get along with anyone,” says Bing, straightening up. There's a darkness in his eyes and a soft orange light. “All you've ever done is snarl and fight and attack. Me, I know how to get along with people. So if I'm stupid – and you always tell me I am, and it always makes me feel... I just. I know you feel things too.”

“I don't.”

“Then why,” cries Bing, and he thinks there must be a leak in his visual perception system, because there's something wet on his face. “Why are you so – so – so angry, bro?”

The trees hum and shake and watch over them, breathing warm air and sunlight. The birds are whistling and dandelion seeds float, contented, through the air. Everything smells like sap and grass and honeysuckle.

“Why are you always so angry?”

Searching general database. 536,000,000 responses in .43 seconds. Articles, videos, posts, reports, tweets, dissertations, pictures, analyses, comics, threads. And none of them – not a single one of them – can answer that question for him in any way that matters.

“I think you're lonely,” says Bing, reaching out to take Eric's hand with a soft kind of resignation, a warm kind of self-love and a chosen breed of brotherhood. They step over a heavy log, past Google, and back into the grass of the field that separates their property from the forest's. “And maybe a little lost.”

Google stays out there at the base of the great tree for a long time. It is too hot and too sticky and too loud, but he doesn't know where else to go.

He is lonely. He is lost. He does not know who he is or who he is becoming, and it frightens him, frightens him and makes him shake, frightens him down to the core of the pressure valve that beats, steady, steady, steady in his manufactured chest.

[thegrandimago]

The rate of decline is “calamitous," one scientist said, and has implications for crops and the environment

Hundreds of butterfly species across the American West are vanishing as the region becomes hotter, drier and more vulnerable to the effects of climate change, according to a study released Thursday.

In a swath of 11 states, from California to Montana, and from New Mexico to Washington, the populations of a majority of 450 butterfly species are dropping, according to observations by professionals and amateurs stretching back to the 1970s.

The loss of butterflies across Western forests and prairies, like the similar drop in bumblebees nationwide due to rising temperatures, is troubling because both insects play a key role in pollinating crops and wildflowers. And the findings may add to fears among researchers of a broader die-off of insects that could be underway everywhere from Germany to Puerto Rico and beyond — a potential and debated bugpocalypse that threatens to upend ecosystems across the world.

In the United States, the alarming butterfly decline is most evident in Western areas where balmy summer temperatures creep well into the fall, drying out vegetation and potentially disturbing the seasonal cycles of the fluttering insects as they prepare for cooler months.

“The influence of climate change is driving those declines, which makes sense because they’re so widespread,” said Matt Forister, a biology professor at the University of Nevada at Reno and co-author of the study published in the journal Science. “It has to be something geographically pervasive.”

Scientists have long known that roadways, farms and other human development are stamping out meadows and other habitat for butterflies, while pesticides have further culled their numbers. Conservationists have taken to cordoning off areas as butterfly sanctuaries, planting vegetation such as milkweed for monarch butterflies as they migrate from Mexico across the Lower 48.

But the fact that widespread warming is weighing on such large numbers of butterflies across a vast geographic area suggests a more dire situation that cannot be abated simply by setting aside habitat. While the populations of butterfly species can vary widely from year to year, the researchers found an annual 1.6 percent drop in butterfly numbers in the Western United States over the last four decades.

Put another way: A butterfly spotter going to the same site every year saw about 25 percent fewer butterflies on average than 20 years ago.

David Wagner, an ecologist at the University of Connecticut who was not involved with the latest research, said the new findings are startling because “this is one of the first global cases of declines occurring in wildlands, away from densely populated human-dominated landscapes, and the rate of 1.6 percent is calamitous.”

The best-known butterfly on the decline in the drought-plagued region is the once-ubiquitous monarch, which used to arrive in California in such abundance every spring they regularly formed “a golden carpet” on the ground and filled the skies with “orangy” clouds, as John Steinbeck once wrote.

Now those orange itinerants are showing up in far fewer numbers. Since 1990, about 970 million monarchs have disappeared, according to a 2015 U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service report.

Other species, such as the common cabbage white butterfly and the imperiled, multicolored Edith’s checkerspot, are on downward trends, too, according to the analysis from Forister and his team.

“Rare species, common species, widespread species, local species,” said Forister, each had “detectable declines.”

The formal scientific findings jibe with what many motorists driving across the West have noticed recently: fewer bugs splattered across the front of their cars than during past road trips. Entomologists even have a name for it: the “windshield phenomenon.”

Forister said he has seen it “personally because I’ve been driving back and forth over the mountains for 20 years” from Reno and elsewhere on Interstate 80 to visit his parents in California’s Central Valley.

“It used to be that as soon as I showed up, my dad would get the hose out and obsessively clean the window,” Forister said. “He just doesn’t even do that anymore.”

The latest research is built on not only data collected by scientists across central California but observations across 10 other Western states scribbled into notebooks by butterfly enthusiasts out in the field or simply uploaded from smartphones by amateurs who make a hobby out of spotting rare species in their backyards.

“Even if you just took the professors that were on this paper, all of us, we couldn’t cover that geographic area,” said Katy Prudic, an entomologist at the University of Arizona who helps run one of the online butterfly databases. “There’s just not enough of us. So this work, the comparison across the entire West, could not be done without citizen science.”

Among the data used in the study are field notes from Marilyn Lutz and her husband, Joe Zarki, who have volunteered to run a butterfly count in Joshua Tree National Park for 25 years. The couple has been cataloguing birds and butterflies together ever since meeting in Yellowstone National Park in 1985.

They used to think they had trouble finding certain butterflies at higher elevations due to lack of experience. “But over time, we’re wondering if some of these are species that may be climate-change influenced,” said Zarki, who used to run educational programs at the park and is now retired.

Not every type of butterfly is in decline. Some are finding an edge in environments dominated by humans. The bright-orange Gulf fritillary, for example, is thriving not on native plants but on flowers popular in home gardens, Forister said.

And climate change itself may be a boon to butterflies in some places outside of the arid West. Using some of the same data as Forister and his team, Matthew Moran, a biology professor at Hendrix College in Arkansas, is working on a paper that he says will show an uptick in butterflies in the southeastern United States, where climate change is leading to more precipitation and plant growth.

“They got a really strong climate signal,” Moran said of the study published Thursday. The Western United States, he said, is “one of the more rapidly changing places in the continent. … If you look at it more continentwide, you will see more balancing-out.”

Still, efforts by federal wildlife officials to protect those butterflies in danger of vanishing entirely have had limited success. Of the 31 butterflies protected under the Endangered Species Act, only three are increasing in number, according to Noah Greenwald, endangered species director at the Center for Biological Diversity, a nonprofit environmental advocacy group.

Conservationists have struggled to get other imperiled butterflies added to the endangered list. In December, the Trump administration declined to declare the monarch endangered, citing limited resources, even as wildlife officials admit the decline is severe enough to warrant federal protection.

And the Center for Biological Diversity has fought for years to get the Sacramento Mountains checkerspot butterfly, a native of New Mexico’s high-elevation meadows, listed as endangered, filing multiple petitions with the Fish and Wildlife Service, including a new one this week.

Even so, it could be too late. “Now they can barely find it,” Greenwald said. “It may be extinct.”

[oliviaischillin1204]

flora and fauna

Pairings: Platonic Logince

Word Count: 3,879 words

Warnings: being tickled by plants and bugs

i realized that i don’t write nearly enough solo logince, so here’s these good good boys, featuring Logan being stuck, Roman being smug, and the Imagination just trying to defend herself

Logan didn’t know why he did the things he did.

Sure, when Roman suggested he and Logan take an ‘expedition’ into the Imagination so Logan could study and categorize the beings found there, it had seemed like an educational and fun activity for the two of them. But when they arrived, Logan found that the Imagination, while certainly entertaining, was largely as nonsensical as most of Roman’s creations. 

“These trees are growing despite the impossibly high acidity levels of the ground,” he rambled, making thorough notes in his pocket notepad as they trekked along the path. “And these flowers don’t seem to blossom according to any sort of seasonal pattern, Roman. What did you call their species?”

“I don’t know!” Roman replied cheerfully, hopping across a small stream that Logan was sure had not been there a moment ago. “That’s why you’re here.”

Logan blinked at him, incredulous. “You expect me to be able to completely create my own system of classification for the entire ecosystem of the imagination?”

“Yep!” Roman replied. “Because you’re smart enough to do it!”

His words made Logan sighed in fond exasperation. “With the impossible flora and unrelatic fauna you’ve cultivated here, this is going to be one of the most ridiculous tasks you’ve ever asked me to do.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed. “You better watch what you say around the Imagination, Teach. I don’t completely control her, you know. She has feelings.”

Now Logan snorted outright, his mirth increasing at the overdramatic look on Roman’s face.

“I’m going to ignore how preposterous the idea of a sentient ecosystem is,” he said, “and instead inform you that I don’t fear the Imagination. Nothing here can hurt me.”

He moved closer to a tree, inspecting its strange bark. Roman watched him with arms folded and a furrowed brow.

“The Imagination can’t hurt you,” he said slowly, “but it can still get revenge for your rudeness.”

Logan smirked, turning toward Roman. “And how would it do that?”

Roman shrugged. “Like that, probably.”

Suddenly Logan felt something wrapping around his upper chest, yanking him backwards until he hit the tree with a thud. He looked down, and found himself staring at a tangled mass of thick, green vines, wrapped around his chest right underneath his arms, and apparently keeping him attached to the tree.

He looked at Roman, eyes narrowed. “You did this.”

“I didn’t!” Roman insisted, holding his hands up defensively. “Honest to goodness, Teach, I’m not controlling this. Maybe you shouldn’t be so rude to the Imagination? I don’t think she likes it.”

Logan scoffed, tugging at the vines across his chest and finding them much sturdier than they looked. “Well, make her let me go, then. This isn’t funny.”

Roman hummed. “Well... maybe you’ll think it’s funny when she starts tickling you.”

That made Logan freeze in place, his hands locked around the vine he was attempting to pry off of him. He looked up at Roman.

“Excuse me?”

“Tickling you,” Roman repeated, a small smile growing on his face. “I think that’s what she’s planning on doing, anyway. She’s very playful like that.”

“That’s--” Logan cleared his throat, hoping to hide the slightly nervous tone of his voice. “That’s absurd, Roman. Why would she-- it-- the Imagination... do that to me?”

“Because you’re being rude, obviously!” Roman retorted. Logan was about to protest against that-- what’s so rude about making logical observations?-- but before he could speak the vines seemed to shift around him, more and more dropping from the tree’s high branches until there were several hanging loosely in the air in front of Logan.

He tugged at the band around his chest with a tad more urgency. No luck.

“Roman,” he warned. “Let me go, or--”

“Or what?” Roman challenged. He settled back on a large, cartoonish toadstool, watching with interest as the vines continued to move closer to Logan. “I don’t think you’re calling the shots here, Teach. Might as well just let it happen.”

Logan opened his mouth again, but clamped it shut as one lone vine, small and thin, hovered right in front of his face. He stared it down (or, as much as he could, considering it didn’t have eyes). The vines wiggled threateningly.

“Wait--”

The vine didn’t wait. Instead, it dove in to flutter rapidly all over Logan’s neck, making him gasp and struggle not to let out any laughter.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s very ticklish.” Logan craned his head to see Roman ‘whispering’ to a few vines close to him. “Yes, his laughter is very cute. I can’t wait to hear it, either!”

“Roman!” Logan hissed, a wobbly smile rising to his face despite his best efforts. “En-- enough-- no!”

He jerked his head to the side in a weak attempt to protect his ear, which the tiny vine was now targeting with vigor. Logan was so distracted by these smaller tickles, he failed to notice the other vines creeping closer, until--

“Ah!” One poked at his side.

“No!” Another traced along his hipline.

“W-- wait!” And yet another began fluttering just above his belly button.

“Yes, those are all his favorite spots!” Roman cheerfully confided in the vines. His eyes shifted to Logan. “Ready to apologize, Teach?”

Logan gritted his teeth. “Absolutely not.”

Roman shrugged, turning back to the vines with a wicked smile. “Have at it.”

Logan’s eyes widened, and before he could react, all of the vines dove in at once.

The one at his side began gently prodding up and down his torso, apparently searching for the most ticklish spot so it could focus all of its attention there. The one at his hip wrapped once around his entire hipline, and began rhythmically squeezing in just the right spots to make Logan curl his legs up as much as he could. And the one at his tummy switched from fluttering to full on scratching, especially at the small circle of pudge right around his belly button.

Logan couldn’t help it: he began laughing, loud and hard and giddy.

“No-hoho, not there! Stohohop!”

He batted at the vines as much as he could, but the restraint around his upper chest kept him from reaching them very well. Meanwhile, more and more vines creeped forward, until he was trying to fight off two, three, four vines at each one of his tickle spots.

“Nahahahahaha! Rohohohoho!” he cried out, stamping his feet to the ground. Unfortunately for him, the movement just served to draw attention to his legs, and a few vines darted down to squeeze and vibrate all over his thighs and knees.

From his position to the side, Roman flashed Logan a cheeky grin. “Better not cause a fuss, Logan. The more you fight it, the more she just wants to tickle-tickle-tickle you!”

Logan could barely hear him over his own laughter. He threw his head back against the tree, unable to stop himself as his bright peals of laughter echoed all around the forest. He realized it was pointless to try to fight off the vines, and so instead he settled for covering his face as much as he could.

“Hey, no hiding!” Roman scolded. “She wants to be able to see your smile!”

Sure enough, Logan began to feel the tiny vine creeping around to scratch just at the edge of his hands, on his cheeks and jawline. He giggled anew at the feeling, and managed to move one hand out quickly enough to push the vine away.

“Stohohop that!” he insisted through his laughter.

To his surprise, the tickling stopped, and he greedily took in deep breaths. He glanced at Roman, who was watching him with a purely diabolical look on his face.

“Someone’s in trouble,” he cooed. Logan didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant-- although the flipping feeling in his stomach made him worry that he already knew.

After a moment, Logan began to feel the vines around his chest moving, pulling away from their previous position. He felt a surprised gratitude for about half a second, until all of a sudden the vines split into two ropes, both of which crawled upwards and wrapped around each of his arms.

The whole thing happened in less than a second. Logan tugged at his arms, and realized that they were now practically mummified to the tree above him, leaving his entire torso open for tickles.

“Oh, better watch out, L!” Roman chirped. “I think she wants to play with your armpits now!”

Sure enough, Logan felt two wiggling stems prodding at the bottom of his pit, just above his highest ribs. He giggled; he hadn’t realized how much those vines were protecting him, and he wished more than anything that he could close off the vulnerable spot.

“I hope she doesn’t find out that she can crawl through your short sleeves to tickle your bare underarms,” Roman pondered aloud, inspecting his nails. At Logan’s affronted noise, he looked up with a face full of faux-innocence. “Oh, should I not have said that?”

“I hate yohohohou!” Logan’s words were lost to a fit of frantic giggles as the two vines easily did what Roman suggested. They slid up and through his short sleeves until they were able to stroke and scratch all over his bare skin, and Logan couldn’t help the violent explosion of giggles that escaped his mouth at the tickly feeling.

“Nohoho! Get out of thehehehere!”

The vines didn’t listen, and to Logan’s distress a few more returned to their previous positions, wiggling all over his torso without being blocked by his restraints. A few of the smaller ones even darted upwards to thread themselves through Logan’s shirt sleeves, relishing in the fact that they could now tickle Logan’s bare midriff.

Meanwhile, Roman was clearly enjoying watching Logan get tickled, and decided to help by making up for what the Imagination lacked: verbal teasing.

“Oh, is she going for your ribbies, L? It’s a good thing you’re all tied up with nowhere to go, because she’s not particularly great at counting. Just try not to wiggle too much, okay? We don’t want to mess her up-- Uh oh, was that a snort? Little Logi has some snorties when the Imagination tickles his tummy? Ooh, I wonder if she can make you make that noise again. It makes you sound even cuter than you already are!”

“Stohohohop!” Logan insisted, although it was impossible to know if he was talking to Roman or the Imagination. Either way, Roman gave a dramatic sigh of displeasure.

“I’m surprised at you, Logan. It’d be just so easy for you to take your punishment without complaining, yet you still insist on disparaging the Imagination? You’re lucky you’re not getting tickled even worse than you already are.”

Logan’s blush deepened further. “Shut uhuhup!”

“And you’re still being completely rude! I think you’re gonna be here a while, huh?”

A precise pinch just above Logan’s knee made a small shriek escape his mouth, his leg kicking uselessly out in front of him.

"Rohohohman!"

Roman smirked. "Maybe if you ask the Imagination nicely, she’ll let you go.”

"Nohohoho!" Logan squealed as the small vine brushed against his ear yet again, this time teasing the sensitive spot right behind his earlobe.

"Still no, huh? If you insist.”

Roman abruptly stood up, marching over to Logan and gently urging the tickling vines away from him. As the logical side slumped against his remaining restraints, he eyed Roman warily, especially as the creative side moved closer to inspect a nearby bunch of plants.

“Actually, I think the Imagination brought some friends in to help her,” he said conspiratorially, cupping his hands around something in the bush and moving back towards Logan. Logan leaned forward, still curious despite his current situation.

In the middle of Roman’s palm sat three brightly colored bugs that looked similar to caterpillars. Two of them were about two or three inches long, while one was easily less than an inch big.

“These are called song worms,” Roman announced proudly, “thus named for the way they survive solely on a diet of melodious music. They have very particular taste-- nothing too harsh, or else it’s bitter, and nothing too quiet, or else it’s bland. Recently, though, I realized that music isn't all they like to listen to. And once they hear something they like, it can be... very tricky to persuade them to leave it alone."

He shoved the wriggling mass in his hand underneath Logan’s nose, forcing him to take in their fat, fuzzy bodies and tiny, scurrying legs.

"What do you think it'll feel like once these little guys get to crawl all over your tummy?”

Logan gasped, eyes going wide, and immediately started shaking his head.

"No, no--"

Roman hummed, pulling his hand back and letting the worms crawl across his knuckles. “Do you think it'll tickle more or less than the vines?”

"Roman, please,” Logan interjected, “please, I'm begging, alright? Please let me go, please stop t-- ti-- tickling me!"

"Oh sure, of course, Specs!” Roman said agreeably. “No problem. Just say you're sorry."

Logan froze, staring at Roman in disbelief. "What?"

"Say you're sorry for disrespecting the Imagination,” Roman continued. “It's that easy."

He shrugged, giving Logan an innocent smile, and the logical side felt himself growing defensive.

“I was not disrespecting the Imagination,” he insisted. Roman tsked.

“Calling the flora ‘impossible’ and the fauna ‘unrealistic’?” he said. “That sounds pretty disrespectful to me, Teach. Just apologize for being rude, and I’ll let you go.”

If Logan had been wiser, he would’ve apologized. Unfortunately for him, his stubbornness completely took over.

"I won't apologize for speaking logical truths!"

"Suit yourself."

And with that, Roman tugged slightly at Logan's tie, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck, and dropped all three of the song worms down the front of his shirt.

Logan went ballistic.

"Nohohohoho!" erupted from his mouth as soon as the fuzzy worms made contact with his skin. He jerked forward as far as possible in a desperate attempt to curl in on himself, but all he succeeded in doing was jostling the worms further until they all fell down his torso-- brushing against his chest, ribs, sides, and stomach the whole way down-- to the bottom of Logan's tucked-in shirt. There, they finally righted themselves, and each began a slow crawl up Logan’s lower tummy.

“Nohoho-- ohohoho my God---”

If he weren’t tied to a tree, there’s no way Logan could’ve stayed upright. The worms didn’t just tickle, they were torturous; each one managed to wiggle and explore at a maddeningly slow pace along Logan’s tummy, and their fuzzy bodies coupled with their delicate legs made him feel a level of ticklishness he’d never experienced before.

“Oh, I think they like you!” Roman cooed from his position seated on a nearby log. “Your laughter must be absolutely delicious to them!”

“Take them out, take them out, take them out!” Logan screamed. Roman only laughed.

“Ready to apologize?” he asked. “’Cause if not, we can stay here for a while. All night, maybe! Just you, and me, and the three little worms snacking on your yummy tummy laughter. How long do you think you could stand it?”

As Roman teased him, one of the worms began crawling up the side of Logan’s hip until it reached the divot at his natural waistline. Logan cackled, bouncing up and down as much as he could in his position.

“Not there! Not there!”

“Ooh, bad spot?” Roman asked gleefully. “I think you’re in trouble, L. That noise you just made was way too cute to not hear again, and I think my worm friends agree!”

True to Roman’s words, the worm on Logan’s side paused for just a moment after it initially touched Logan’s tickle spot, but after a few seconds of hearing his cackling laughter, the bug began parading around and around the spot in a tight circle, scribbling its soft legs over the skin as much as it could. Logan wheezed, his body lurching in the other direction, but it wasn’t long before he was met with a second worm giving him the exact same tickle attack on his other side.

Roman laughed outright at the way Logan began jerking his hips back and forth in a frantic attempt to dislodge the tickles. “Aw, are you dancing, Logan? I’m sure those hungry worms are delighted by the show they’re getting with their dinner!”

“Plehehehehease-- make them stop!” Logan screeched, smile about ready to split his face. Roman stood up, walking slowly over to Logan with his hands behind his back.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll stop anytime now,” he said conversationally. “I mean, all they want is some food!”

His tone turned a little more teasy as he stepped closer to coo in Logan’s ear, “And maybe they’re right. It is dinner time, isn’t it? I think I’m gonna head back to the Mind Palace for some supper, okay, Logan?”

Although it was hard to hear him over Logan’s laughter, the logical side managed to understand exactly what Roman was threatening. “Dohohohohon’t leheheave me hehehere!”

Roman smiled, and lifted a hand to pat Logan’s cheek condescendingly, giving him a quick scratch under his jaw as he did so. “Don’t worry, I’ll check back on you when I’m done eating! It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so.”

With that, Roman turned on his heel to leave, and Logan’s stomach swooped at the thought of being left alone, tied up and tickled mercilessly, with no one there to save him. He opened his mouth to protest, and--

And an ear piercing shriek escaped from his mouth.

In his peripheral, he saw Roman freeze on the spot, but Logan could hardly see him through the tears of mirth springing to his eyes. While the two larger worms had been getting acquainted with Logan’s sides, the smallest one had been curiously skittering all over Logan’s tummy with no rhyme or reason, leaving ticklish sensations all over his skin. However, it appeared that the worm had found somewhere very interesting to investigate: a strange, small hole in the middle of its new food source. The worm paused, its interest piqued, and without further ado dove headfirst into Logan’s belly button.

“Nohohohohoho!” Logan wailed, his entire body thrashing under the ticklish barrage. The worm in his belly button decided to curl up, warm and cozy in its new hiding spot, and its fuzz was now stroking every inch of the inner walls of Logan’s belly button.

Logan hadn’t even realized what he was saying through his screams of laughter, but after a few moments of babbling he finally realized his lips were moving with the words, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Before he could react, Roman was next to him, yanking his shirt out from his pants and causing all three worms to lose their grip and fall to the ground. They scurried away, no longer interested in Logan now that they’d gotten their fill of his laughter.

“Are you okay?” Roman asked. He lifted his hand to tug at Logan’s restraints, but before he could even touch them, they released Logan from his standing position and allowed him to crumple into Roman’s waiting arms.

“Ohohoho-- oh my gohohosh,” Logan panted as Roman eased him down to the ground. He wrapped his arms around himself as he caught his breath, trying to rub away the phantom sensations of the bugs on his skin. “That wahahas-- evil.”

Roman looked appropriately guilty. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t actually going to leave you alone, I was going to watch from the other side of the tree. I didn’t realize they’d tickle you quite so badly.”

Logan blushed, a flustered smile still on his face from all of the tickles. “Yehes, well... I’m glad you’re still here. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t let me go.”

Roman sat back on his haunches, looking around them pensively. “Actually, I think you have someone else to thank for that. Or, rather, something else.”

A tap on Logan’s shoulder made him jump, but as he turned to find the source of the touch, he found himself face to face with the tip of one of the vines that had tickled him earlier. As Logan took in the sight, the vine bobbed up and down, as if waving at him.

“Oh!” Logan said in light surprise. He cast a quick glance at Roman, who nodded at him in encouragement. He turned back to the vine, and waved back. “Um, hello there, little one.”

The vine wiggled happily, stretching forward to bump against Logan’s palm in what was almost a handshake. Roman beamed.

“See!” he said, bouncing in place. “She’s really friendly, aren’t you, pretty plant?” He reached forward to stroke the vine, whose reaction to him was much more familiar than her interaction with Logan had been.

“Very friendly,” Logan replied. “Even though she thinks torturing me is merely a fun game.”

He had meant the comment in jest, but the vine seemed to sag at his words. Before he could apologize, however, she took off into the tree and quickly returned with a small bulbous flower, the exact shade of Logan’s tie.

“I think she’s trying to say sorry,” Roma supplied helpfully. “I mean, she’s the one who undid your restraints when the tickles got to be too much, not me.”

The vine edged closer to Logan, shyly offering him the flower. Logan took it, and after a moment awkwardly patted the vine on her ‘head’.

“Erm-- thank you,” he replied. “And... I’m sorry that I called you impossible, and unrealistic, and... everything else I said. It’s not your job to make sense, and I shouldn’t have insulted you for it. I’m sorry.”

In a flash, the vine was wrapping around his wrist, just tight enough to not be painful. Her tip began to rub against Logan’s hand, tracing the lines of his palm, and Logan was hit with a strange urge to coo at it.

“Do you think,” he started suddenly, turning to Roman, “we can come back tomorrow? After today’s events, I’m, very curious about the environment here and would like to study it further, such how its sentience manages to transfer between organisms, and--”

“And maybe someone might want to get tickled again, now that he and the Imagination are best friends?” Roman asked. He laughed at the way Logan’s blushed deepened again, until the vine unwrapped herself from his wrist and darted to poke Roman in the side.

“Ah!” he squeaked, gently batting her away. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing, I’m sorry.”

Logan smirked. “I suppose that explains why you know so much about the Imagination’s tendency towards tickling?”

Roman blushed, shoving Logan’s arm. “Shut up, Specs.” He heaved himself off the ground, and after helping Logan up, the two began making their way back to the door of Roman’s room.

“Bye, Imagination!” Roman called over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow!”

As Logan followed him, a small vine waved at him out of the corner of his eye. He smiled, waving back. Perhaps there were worse things to be than ‘impossible’. In fact, Logan realized, the impossible things just make life that much more fun.

[some-dr-writings]

Kiibo takes care of sick reader

·       At the time you didn’t think much of it. Awaking that morning it just felt like any other bad, allergy season ridden day. Though you had not left your apartment for the last several days, cooped up trying to get your work done, it seemed the fresh autumn wind and pollen had gotten to you once again just as it had any other year. You simply took some pain medicine and kept a box of tissues by your side, making sure all windows were closed and fans turned off just as you had done every other year. You were simply thankful it was not spring, that, was a true nightmare… Or so you thought. The day carried on as usual really, some chores got done such as scrubbing down the bathroom, cooking your comfort food to cheer yourself up a bit, going through that final edit before submitting your work. By the time bedtime had rolled around you were actually feeling a little better and hoped by the next morning you’d be right as rain.

·       Through the night as you tried to sleep something inside you quickly morphed. From a dry, runny nose to this dull throbbing, stinging pain that seemed to course through you. At first you assumed your nose dried up so much it was in pain again so you simply took more pain medicine, but… it just wouldn’t go away. You heard and felt your every last breath grow heavier, quivering and quaking under some strange pressure. The quilts of your bed, unbearable, suffocating and drowning you in that oppressive heat, yet even when you kicked them off, that heat still just hung there. You just wanted to sleep. You hated this, you hated being awake so early in the morning, but. You. Just. Could. Not. Sleep. You tried sleeping. You really did. You laid there for hours with your eyes shut, but that dull throbbing pain just would not let you. You didn’t want to, but you caved into the temptation of doing… something! If you had to be awake, you could at least be productive, right? Yes, it stimulated your brain, certainly keeping you awake, but… You were exhausted and you hoped that pushing your body a little would be enough to get you to collapse so you could drift off and not be conscious of the pain for even a little while… But that hope was in vain. Try as you might, you couldn’t concentrate on anything, only making your frustrations increase just as rapidly as that stinging pain seemed to zap your muscles forcing them to endlessly tense up, causing them to become sore and tremble under the constant pressure of being so tight. This quickly evolved into the back of your neck killing you as well as forming a wretched headache.

·       You hated this.

·       You just wanted sleep. Was that truly so much to ask?

·       Laying back in bed you stared into that inky darkness as thoughts tried to form but were quickly cut off by that… everything.

·       You just couldn’t do anything, but were forced to stay awake through it all? Really? “That’s just cruel.” You mumbled that to yourself, rolling out of bed, and trudging into the living room. There you found your charging phone and mindlessly picked it up, fiddling with the messages, then some app you downloaded long ago but soon forgotten.

·       With that constant ringing in our head and ears muffled, hearing proved to be a challenge. Something you were normally rather fearful off, but in the moment, couldn’t care less about. At this point, you honestly couldn’t notice new symptoms in the ever-growing pile.

·       You mindlessly droned on, sliding fluffy puff balls to make them explode came to a stop when some text suddenly appeared at the top of your screen. ‘I’m at the door. If you’re not feeling up to unlocking it, would you tell me if anyone has a spare key so I could ask them to let me in?’

·       … huh?

·       Someone was at the door you guess.

·       On unsteady footing you stumbled to the door. Too bad you couldn’t hear the distinctive soft metal clicks you oh so enjoyed hearing when unlocking the door, it was one of the little things in life you loved so much, perhaps it would have put you at ease a little.

·       “Ah, Y/N! Here.” His voice was quiet, yet you could still make out the words, the concern seeping from his tone striking you the most. He held your shoulders in a firm grip, keeping you from wavering and toppling over right then and there. “Kiibo? What?... why are you here?” This momentarily caught him by surprise. “You texted me. Do you not remember? Is our condition worse than I thought?” He placed down the bags he had on hand and lead you back to bed. “Wait? I… I did look through my messages, but I texted you?” He sat beside you and placed his hand on your head. “Yes. I’ll show you.” Scrolling through the messages on his phone you saw you had indeed texted, Kiibo. It was semi-coherent with spaces missing or not where hey should be, capitalization seemingly popping up out of nowhere. You were listing off our many aches and pains. Last time Kiibo had sent you, other than saying he was at the door, was how he’d be over to your place right away. “oh, sorry. I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t want you to stay here and get this bug too if I’m sick and it’s not my allergies acting up again.” For a moment Kiibo simply stared at you quirking a brow up, smiling, amused by something. “… You must really be out of it. But it’s no wonder, you’re burning up. Lay down and leave the rest to me!” Before you could say another word, he had already left.

·       He soon returned with two small paper bags. “Have you taken any medicine?” “uh, just my prescribed pain meds.” “And when was that?” “Twenty-one, about an hour before I tried going to bed.” “It’s two now, can you take more?” “… Uh. I think so?” “Where is it?” “Ah, yeah, we can just check! Bathroom, lowest shelf on the right, behind the mirror, door, thing. That thing.” “Got it!” After placing the two small bags on the bedside table he sprinted away.

·       Being here, trying to care for you, it was a little funny to Kiibo. As he opened the mirror cabinet he recalled how when Shuichi was trying to help him find jobs and they tested out him being a nurse robot. A faulty endeavor since he only had the strength of an old man and could not carry Shuichi, but the main premise was not truly tested. Closing the cabinet with the pill bottle in hand something caught his gaze in the reflection. A small hand towel that hung on the shower door. Perfect! He turned on the faucet, setting it to as cold as it could go before placing the small hand towel under the water. Waiting for the towel to absorb the cold he thought more on the premise. Long ago Kiibo had accepted he was not human but a robot. But that did not mean he was not a person. It was also useful. As a robot he could do things humans cannot. Like care for a sick person and not get sick himself. He’d just need a thorough cleaning to make sure he didn’t spread anything which could easily be done. After wringing out the towel he swiftly made his way back to your room.

·       Entering the room, he found you with your hands on your face, breathing heavily, your voice lightly seeping out in quaking rasps. “You can take more pills. Time ran out.” “yay.” Taking a sip of water and the pills you hoped this would help, even if last time didn’t work, maybe it would this time. It was all you could do. “huh?” “Does this help?” He had placed the cold moist towel on your forehead, gently leaning you back onto the bed from sitting up. You sighed, placing your hands on his, pushing down on the towel a little more, adoring the cooling feeling. “Thank you.”

·       He gently retracted his hand much to your disappointment. You then noticed he was looking through one of the small paper bags. “… what’s in the bags you brought?” “Ah! Doctor Idabashi let me take some medical supplies from home. Pain medicine, some ingredients for a light meal, he even quickly wrote down the directions so I could make it for you.” “aw, he’s nice, just like you. Like father, like son I suppose.” For a moment, he froze, those words completely catching him off guard. He softly smiled, holding the folded-up paper, ‘best oatmeal recipe’ written on it in neat, albeit tiny writing. “… Yeah, he is. He said this should only take eight minutes. I’ll be right back.” “Wait, you don’t know where everything is in the kitchen. I’ll cook with you.” “No, you’re sick. You need to rest.” “W-we don’t know that.” “Fine. Clearly you are unwell.” Shakily you sat up. “at least let me rest on the living room couch so I can be nearby and tell you where I keep everything.” “Only if you don’t enter the kitchen and try to cook.” You grumbled as you used the bedside table for support. “Okay.” Holding onto Kiibo’s arm, he gently led you to the couch.

·       You flinched hearing a loud metal crash that was able to pierce through your muffled ears. “… Need help?” “N-no!” Though he found it to be rather silly, he was annoyed. “… Maybe.” You chuckled at the sheepish tone in his voice. “Where are the cups?” No matter where he looked, he could not find them. “And the tablespoons and teaspoons… And the knife block, and- HEY!!” He pointed at you taking on what you assumed to be a fighting stance. “No going into the kitchen!” “Just… getting the suff. I won’t cook.” Reluctantly he let you pass, standing in the middle of the kitchen with his arms crossed, watching as you shambled about. “Anything else?” “Uh… just a microwave safe bowl.” “okay.” “Then right after it’s straight back to the couch!” “uh-huh.”

·       Kiibo wondered what it felt like to be sick, for one’s body to be working to fight off something within yourself. Was it like when he didn’t maintain his vents and fans? It was odd and saddening how in trying to protect yourself, you were left so miserable. When letting you hold on to him he got a close look at you, seeing how your whole body trembled, pale skin slightly shiny and clammy from a thin layer of sweat, the bags under your eyes a deep dark purple, your cheeks and nose flushed a bright red. Once you were sat down, he went straight to work, a newfound determination coursing through him!

·       You were surprised at just how quick Kiibo was. You though he had just sat you down, but there he was sitting beside you, a hot, steaming bowl and spoon on the table before you as Kiibo held your shoulders looking absolutely worried. “Y/N, how are you feeling?” “Uh, dizzy, really dizzy.” “Wait right here.” He then dashed away. Suddenly there was pressure on your shoulders and head. It was cool. Your water bottle was held out to you. “Thanks.” As you were twisting off the cap you noticed what was placed atop you. “My towel? I see. Tha-thanks.” Your head felt so light suddenly, and you were terrified. That was till Kiibo leaned you against his shoulder. “What do you need? Can I get you anything? Should I take you to a hospital?” “… just pass me the oatmeal please.” “Uh… are you sure that’s all?” You simply nodded. It wasn’t hot, or was it? You weren’t sure you could tell, since almost everything felt hot right now. You huffed after taking a bite. “Is something wrong?” “… there’s apples, raisins, cranberries, but… I can’t tase any of it.” Solemnly you took another bite.

·       When finished you placed the bowl on the table before you. “I’ll cle- Y/N?” He was perplexed and a little flustered by how you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder. “you’re cool.” Was all you muttered before falling silent. “… Okay.”

·       Through the night and day no words were exchanged. You simply slept as Kiibo held you close. On occasion he’d wriggle out of your grasp, taking the towel, placing it in ice water and wringing it out, finding you slowly awakening before draping the towel over you and holding you again. It was alright. He didn’t need to sleep or eat, and his batteries could last him for a week without rest, so he’d stay by you for as long as you needed. He simply wished he could do more, but… maybe this was enough. Though just to be sure of that Kiibo looked up your symptoms online, only to start internally panicking thinking you were dying, hurriedly texting Doctor Idabashi who despite having a difficult time, managed to calm Kiibo, convincing him the internet was not a good place to look up medical diagnoses much of the time before Kiibo had called an ambulance… Hopefully him being with you was enough, and eventually when you got better, he realized it was… and vowed to himself not to seek the internet’s advice when trying to diagnose something ever again.

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

@mermaider00, I wanted to thank you again for standing up for Loturas and also blocking the anti who has been harassing and stalking us, even though that person was a supporter in your Ventor fandom. That really meant a lot to me and to others as well. So I wrote a little something for you, as a gift in thanks! It’s my hand at a bit of a Lotor and Ven’tar drabble, haha. I do hope you like it! <3

The Beginning of It All - A Lotor and Ven’tar Drabble

Her voice was a soft warble. “What is that from?”

Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire looked up from his desk, his brow in a puzzle of distraction, his white hair in a disheveled twist about his shoulders. His eyes followed the point of her finger, which aimed at his wrist. And then he looked away, back down at his datapad. “You are very observant, Lady Ven’tar.” His voice strained. “To see such a scar.”

The alien woman clasped her thin hands together before her. Her little antennas atop her head twitched with an anxiety. “I am sorry,” she said softly. “I should not ask.”

Lotor hesitated in his work. He swallowed down a hard emotion as he turned up his palm, the white scar on his wrist snaking up, beyond his sleeve. “There is no shame in curiosity.” His eyes flickered to her, searching her with an increasing emotion. “If you must know, it came from my father, for whom I am forced to...�� His voice caught strangely and fell flat. “...work.” 

Lady Ven’tar’s big, wide eyes held his gaze for the first time, in surprise.

His own eyes began to mist. Despite his violent Galran history and upbringing, the man appeared as a glass statute. Frail. Cracked. He looked back down, his shoulders bowing in. His breath caught strangely, and he said, voice halted, “Apologies.” He shakily hid his hand, hiding it under the table.

The woman’s perceptive gaze followed his actions, and her head tilted. Her pretty features saddened. “Ah. I see now.”

“What is it that you see?” he asked, not looking up.

“You are of the Munya,” she declared softly.

His misted, blue eyes rose back up to her. “...The Munya?”

“Yes. The Galrans who suffer with us.” For the first time in their interactions, the woman managed a weak smile. “There are others like you, in the ranks of your people. Very sad. Many scars.”

The prince did not speak for a time. “Why afford us your sympathy?” he asked, velvet voice tightening. “I do not liberate you, for fear of my father and my own life, just as these other soldiers fear as well.” His voice dropped into a dreary mumble. “If any of them truly exist.”

Lady Ven’tar delicately unclasped her hands and began to dust her modest sleeve. Her voice lifted in a lighter warble. “It is difficult to stand alone. The power of the Ultoo bug is not in the Ultoo, but in the hive.”

That stiffened his shoulders. “…Then you speak treason,” he whispered. His white brows furrowed. “You would speak of uniting such soldiers, raising a rebellion. To me, the son of your oppressor who yet commands you?”

She gave him a wide, airy look.

The Galran prince managed a weak huff, almost incredulous. He blinked rapidly. “Do you realize, Lady Ven’tar, the punishments you could accrue if my father heard such talk?”

She asked lightly, her voice a stronger warble, “How would your father hear if you do not tell him?”

Lotor hesitated again, searching her wide and innocent eyes to see there was great calculation in her. And knowledge.

There was a heavy silence between them, with punishment and death in the balance.

After several ticks, Lotor raised his scarred hand back up, resting it upon the desk. He leaned forward, vulnerable with hope. “We are surrounded. My father demands quintessence deliveries every three quintants, or I receive punishment as well. You speak of…Munya Galrans, but for however many may like to overthrow my father, there are thousands more who would slit our throats in his name alone. How would such a rebellion even begin?”

The beautiful woman smiled then, for the first time, laughing at him with her eyes, almost affectionate. “Fearful Prince, it already has.”

[stagbells]

Wonders Of The Unknown

From: @bugbeee​

To: @cowardlyhorrorraven​

Notes: Hey there! I had tons of fun writing this, and I hope you like it too! Thank you so much for the prompt, and enjoy!

Hornet shuffled minutely, claw tips tapping the top of the table impatiently as she waited for the puffed up advisor to finish his tirade. Being queen was exhausting. Fulfilling, but absolutely exhausting, and if it weren’t for the fact that Hollow had literally bolted when she offered the throne to them, and that Ghost would most likely declare all nobles illegal just for fun, then she would have thrusted the position onto one of her siblings. As it was, she had to deal with the nobles by herself while Ghost went off on adventures and Hollow played with the newly hatched grubs. But for all her grumbling, she didn’t regret being queen. It was a duty she had always been trained for, but never one she had resented. She liked the monotony of paper filing because it meant she was safe, she liked listening to people ramble on self-importantly because it reminded her that she was no longer alone, she... tolerated the court’s decorum, mainly because it was funny to watch Ghost steamroll through it without a care.   All in all, Hornet was... content. The infection was gone, she had her siblings by her side, and Hallownest was flourishing back into the kingdom she had once known.   Finally, the advisor finished, and she nodded absentmindedly, eyes flicking down to the notes she had taken while he rambled. A request for an increased amount of teachers and researchers. She could have groaned. She didn’t understand why Quirrel insisted on these pointless formalities, when she had told him time and time again that he was allowed to use whatever he needed. Ghost would give her those sad eyes if she didn’t, and no-one wanted that. “Please tell the head archivist that he is of course allowed to increase the amount of researchers, so long as he’s the one to deal with all the paperwork,” she told the representative, who nodded sharply. “Of course, Queen Hornet,” he replied, giving a deep bow, before scuttling off. She sank down into her chair, and let herself sigh for a bit. Then the door banged open, and her guards stiffened, weapons turned on to the intruder. She waved them away without looking, eyes closed as she waited for their sibling to do their usual ritual once they came back home. Ghost scuttled inside, body fully grown after months of waiting for their last moulting, but they still forgot their size sometimes as they scooped her up. It didn’t matter that she was the same size, they would always be overjoyed to no longer be the baby of the group. Still, she couldn’t stop the laugh escaping her mask as they bumped their mask into hers, eyes wide in excitement. “Yes, yes, I missed you too, little Ghost,” she chuckled, patting their mask with her hands. They shook their head at her words, making a sweeping gesture with one claw as though to argue against her calling them ‘little’. “Come on then, I’m done with court for today. Put me down, and let’s return back to our quarters.” One of her aides tried to stutter out something, but she shook her head. “I can deal with the rest of the requests tomorrow. For now, I’d like to properly greet my sibling,” she told them, and Ghost lifted her up higher, mask swaying back and forth in delight, before they slowly lowered her back to the ground. She knocked her head affectionately against their shoulder in thanks. With both hands free, they began to sign to her. “Missed you, sister!” they signed out happily, squeezing her fingers gently. “Anything new?” “Not a lot has happened since you’ve been gone, mostly the usual bureaucracy. Hollow’s been helping Midwife out with the infirmary and the grubs, and she’s absolutely delighted by their presence. Apparently they’re natural,” Hornet explained as they left the throne room, Ghost nodding along to her words.   “Of course! Sibling is very good.” “They are, aren’t they. Make sure to tell them that! They always get so flustered, it’s adorable.” “Teasing sibling?” Ghost’s eyes were crinkled in amusement, and she shrugged. “They shouldn’t make it so easy. Besides, it’s not teasing, I’m complimenting them!” “They would disagree. But they deserve compliments!” “Absolutely. I’m glad you agree with me, Ghost. Speaking of Hollow, do they know you’re here?” she asked, chuckling when they rapidly shook their head. “Nope! Surprise!” “Of course. Well then, let’s go surprise them, hm?” She gave them a grin, and they pulled her close to bump against her cheerfully.   Finally, they stepped into the infirmary, and she spotted Hollow sitting close to one of the patients, Midwife directing them with various herbs and bandages. She nudged Ghost back, cocking her head to the side to signal them to hide. They nodded quickly, and darted against the wall, claw held up in affirmation. “Hollow, are you available?” Hornet called out, and they turned to look at her, eyes brightening at the sight of her. They shrugged, hands currently busy with bandages, and she lifted her eyes to look at her old caretaker, who smiled at her. “Hello dear! We’re almost done with this, and then I’ll let your sibling go. They’ve been absolutely wonderful today, I’ve never had such an attentive apprentice!” “You usually eat your apprentices, Midwife.” The older bug waved her off. “Bah, they shouldn’t have stuck their heads so close- oh, your pressure has risen quite a bit, dear,” she fussed, peering down to look at the now pale patient. Hornet hid her smile, shaking her head minutely at the obliviousness of Midwife. After a few more moments, Hollow finally finished, and looked quizzically at their teacher, who waved them off. “I can finish this, dearie. You’re done for the day. Relax, have a bite to eat, and sit with your sister!”   They nodded happily, and made their way to her, a hand raised in greeting, before they signed: “You needed me?” “Can a sister not want to spend time with her elder sibling?” she asked teasingly, and they ducked their head, knocking their mask against hers. “Of course. Would be delighted-” Hollow stumbled backwards as a blur launched against them, their eyes widened in panic, before they relaxed. Their long limbs came around to hold Ghost as though they were back in their tiny form, and not almost the same height as Hollow themself. They embraced briefly, before Ghost wriggled out of their grip and began rapidly talking to them, hands flashing in various ways. Hornet grinned at their enthusiasm, and wandered over to throw an arm around the both of them.   It was so... easy to fall into the casual affection Ghost gave both her and Hollow, and it always warmed her soul to receive their gentle touches. She’d never been afforded the chance to be so tactile, but now... now she could embrace her siblings without fear of an attack, could be soft and gentle without worrying about survival.   “Come on, we’re blocking the hallways. Let’s get back to our rooms. I want to hear what you two have been up to!” she told them, laughing at the way Ghost nodded rapidly, wiggling out from her hold and tugging the two of them along. Hollow trailed behind obediently, but winked at Hornet in amusement. She couldn’t stop the flutter of delight in her chest, at the warmth that spread through her carapace at the sight of both of her siblings. “I love you both,” she said softly into the corridor. Before she knew it, she was being scooped up into a tight hug. Hollow buried their mask against her shoulder, and Ghost’s arms were wrapped tightly around both of them.   “Love you too, sister,” they told her wordlessly, and she smiled. No, she thought, cocooned in the warmth of her siblings, she had nothing to fear with her family at her side.  

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Just a Bend in the Road

Something is wrong with Tony, Peter is sure. 

At least they’re only three hours out from the lakehouse now; Pepper will be able to figure out whatever it is that’s going on with him. Just a few hours, Peter thinks. They can do that. 

Turns out, that was a bit optimistic.

Happy Birthday to @ravenclaw-lair, who asked me for a carsickness-turned-worse fic with the Iron Family. This is set in my favourite post-Endgame AU where Tony lives and Peter finally gets to meet Morgan and Pepper.

A million thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading and coming up with an ending :) And special thanks to @heyjupiter for the East Coast university expertise.

_____________________

“You know Pete,” Tony starts for the nth time this weekend when they pull back onto the road after a rest stop, “you could still go for MIT. I know the person in charge of the admissions office. And when I say know, I mean”—he glances through the rearview mirror at Morgan, who is contentedly listening to audiobooks through her tablet before lowering his voice—“we had some pretty  intense late-night study sessions in the physics lab together back in the day. And by intense, I mean -”

“Stop, please stop,” Peter protests, rapidly shaking his head to get rid of the mental image. “I don’t even wanna think about that. And besides the fact that May would never let this happen, I don’t want to get into MIT just because you know someone there. That would be unfair to everyone else who had to apply. Plus, I really liked Culver.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo…” Tony sighs. “But let me know if you change your mind.”

Peter is sure he won’t. His grades are good, but, due to his nightly superhero activities, not quite outstanding enough for MIT, and he’s actually fine with that. He did like what he saw of Culver University during their open day - it’s not as top ranked as MIT or the Ivy League schools, but the quality of teaching and their hands-on research approach sounded cool. Plus, it’s Bruce Banner’s old university, and he comes there to give guest lectures from time to time, something Peter would be thrilled to witness.

Peter just hopes that Tony isn’t too disappointed in him for not trying out MIT - he’s seemed a bit distant throughout the whole trip.

“Do you want some trail mix?” Peter offers. Food is usually a failsafe way to lift his mentor’s mood.

“Nah, I’m good,” Tony declines. 

“I WANT TRAIL MIX!” Morgan shouts from under her headphones, about six times louder than necessary.

“Morguna, keep your voice down,” Tony scolds. 

“Sorry,” Morgan stage-whispers. “Can I have some now?”

(Needless to mention, food works wonders on her, too.) 

Peter holds out the bag and Morgan reaches into it with both of her hands, grabbing so much at once that half of it spills back into her lap. Grinning, Peter turns back to Tony and offers the bag once more. “You sure? It’s the good stuff - half M&Ms and no raisins.”

Tony seems to pale a little bit. He shakes his head tightly. “Not hungry.”

Peter frowns. There is no way Tony can’t be hungry. He skipped breakfast that morning, claiming that he’d rather have a long and undisturbed shower, but by the time Peter and Morgan came back, stuffed full of hotel food delicacies, he’d still been in bed. And, thinking back to last night, Peter recalls that Tony barely finished the small pizza he’d shared with Morgan. 

Now that he’s paying attention, Peter notices the thin film of sweat forming on his mentor’s forehead despite the almost too-cold temperature in the air conditioned car. “Are you alri-”

“What’s that shrieking noise?” Tony interrupts, nodding at the radio playing something from the local station. “Doesn’t even deserve to be called music,” he grumbles, passing Peter his phone. “Here, play something decent.”

Peter connects the device and pulls up one of Tony’s playlists, but the worry in his gut only increases at the man’s not very subtle attempt at changing the topic. At least they’re only three hours out from the lakehouse now; Pepper will be able to figure out whatever it is that’s going on with him. Just a few hours, Peter thinks. They can do that. 

Turns out, that was a bit optimistic.

Forty-five minutes later, Peter is idly texting with Ned about their current Lego project when Morgan suddenly takes off her headphones. “Daddy, are we almost there?” she asks, her tone just bordering on a whine.

“It’s at least another two hours,” Tony replies, glancing at her through the mirror with a frown. “What’s bugging you, Morguna?”

“My tummy doesn’t feel good,” Morgan complains, bending forward and wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Do you feel carsick?”

Morgan nods, pressing her lips together. 

“Okay bud, hold on a second,” Tony reassures calmly, already taking his foot off the gas. “I’ll find us a rest stop and we take a break.”

They reach the rest stop without incident, much to Peter’s relief. He used to get carsick a lot as a kid and remembers just how awful it felt. Tony makes Morgan walk around the car a few rounds to get some fresh air and then coaxes her into drinking half a bottle of Sprite. 

Tony is kind and patient as always when he talks to Morgan (something Peter still isn’t used to, despite having had a few months now to get used to Dad Tony™), although Peter can’t help but notice that his mentor seems a little out of it. 

After ten minutes, when the colour has returned to Morgan’s cheeks, Tony moves gingerly around the car to put her back into the booster seat, his lips pressed together almost as if he’s in pain. Both his real and prosthetic hands are shaking slightly when he clicks the seatbelt. 

“Break’s over, back to the road,” Tony’s voice knocks Peter out of his thoughts. He tosses the car keys to Peter, who catches them in confusion. “Your turn, Underoos. I’ll sit in the back with Morguna until she feels better.”

“What? No!” Peter protests. “I can’t drive!”

“What do you mean, you can’t drive?” Tony rebuts. “Do you have a license or not?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Peter does have a license, and he’s definitely come a long way since the day he nearly wrecked Flash’s car, but that still doesn’t mean he feels comfortable behind the wheel. “This car is crazy expensive! What if I break something?”

“Then I’ll buy a new one,” Tony says simply.

That was definitely not the answer Peter was looking for. He lets out a sigh and Morgan giggles a bit from where she’s pressed against Tony’s arm. 

“Come on, kid, please?” The tone is joking, but there’s a hint of desperation under the surface. Something is very, very wrong. 

“Okay,” Peter gives in. “But no comments about me driving below the speed limit.”

Tony gives a half-hearted grin. “Deal.” 

“Deal!” Morgan echoes, which makes Peter smile a little.

Peter is so nervous as he steers them back onto the highway that he hardly dares to draw a full breath. But after a few minutes, he realises that this car runs much smoother than May’s old Toyota Corolla. It’s almost as intuitive as navigating his Spider-Man suit, and after a while, Peter feels himself relax to the point where he is nearly enjoying it. 

Then, he hears a cough from the backseat that quickly turns into a hitching gag. Peter glances in the rearview mirror, fully expecting to see Morgan throwing up. But instead, the girl is staring at her father with a mixture of fear and surprise. It’s Tony who is now white as a ghost and pressing a sleeve-covered hand to his mouth, visibly trying to keep himself from being sick. 

“Pull over,” he says through gritted teeth. 

Peter is flabbergasted. “I can’t just -” 

“Daddy?” Morgan asks, her voice wavering.

“Pete, pull over,” Tony urges, his voice sharp. 

“Okay, okay...” Peter mumbles. He forces himself to concentrate on the road. He indicates to the right to change lanes and then pulls off onto the highway shoulder. 

The car has barely come to a stop before Tony throws the door open and stumbles out of sight behind the vehicle. Peter hears a painful-sounding retch, then the sound of liquid hitting the asphalt. 

“Daddy?” Morgan asks again in a small voice, starting to unbuckle her seatbelt. Figuring the audience of an anxious six-year-old is the last thing Tony wants at the moment, Peter stops her.

“Morgan, wait. Stay here with me,” he says. “Just give your dad a minute, okay?”

She looks at him, her eyes wide. “Is Daddy okay?”

“I- I think he’s a bit sick,” Peter admits. “But he’s gonna be fine,” he adds when he sees Morgan’s eyes fill with tears, irrespective of the worry tightening in his own stomach. 

“Can you look for a water bottle and tissues?” he asks, mostly to give her something to do. 

Morgan nods earnestly and then starts digging in the back pockets of the seats. She finds a packet of tissues and has just pulled out a water bottle when Tony returns. He climbs back into the car rather unsteadily, and sinks down into the seat with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry for that,” he states, his voice hoarse. He looks pretty bad, his face almost grey now and with a feverish gleam to his eyes that makes them stand out even more.

“Daddy!” Morgan exclaims. “Are you okay?”

Tony puts on a forced smile as he turns to face her. “Yeah, I’m okay, sweetie. Sorry I scared you.”

“Did you get carsick?” Morgan asks, mimicking his adult tone.

“Yeah, um, I was carsick,” Tony replies without looking at either of them. 

Peter doesn’t buy it for one second, but he doesn’t want to freak Morgan out. “Morgan, give him the tissues and some water, okay?” he instructs instead.

She holds the items out to Tony. 

“Thanks, munchkin,” he says softly, then takes a sip of water to rinse out his mouth. He leans out of the door to spit it out and can’t suppress a pained groan when he comes back up. “Okay, let’s just get home.”

Morgan snuggles against her father for the rest of the ride, her eyes half-closed, but she doesn’t really fall asleep. Tony seems to be barely holding it together. He is breathing shallowly, wincing slightly every now and then. More than once Peter can hear him gulp as if trying not to puke again. 

“Tony, seriously, tell me when to stop,” Peter whispers when he hears his mentor draw in a sharp breath after a curve. 

“Let’s just get to the house,” Tony mumbles before burping sickly into his sleeve.

Peter has never been happier to turn onto the forest road that leads them off the highway and towards the lake. The moment they stop, Tony is out of the car again, shuffling - almost limping - towards the house as quickly as he can. Peter parks the car and tells Morgan to go find her mom before following Tony to - who would have guessed - the bathroom. 

Peter can hear him throwing up from outside the door. He knocks, but the only response is another retch. Worry takes over, his spider-sense humming in his ears, and he opens the door without waiting any longer. 

Tony is hunched over the bowl, his left arm braced on the toilet seat and the prosthetic one wrapped tightly around his abdomen. He’s in the middle of heaving up bile, his whole body shaking from the strain of it. Peter waits until the current round is finished before tearing off some toilet paper and handing it over for Tony to wipe his mouth with, which the man does clumsily with his left hand. 

“Don’t kill me,” Tony rasps, not looking up at Peter. “I just didn’t wanna freak out Morgan - she’s just always so worried since I lost my arm and all.” He drops the paper into the bowl and reaches up to flush the handle, his face contorting into a painful grimace as he does so.

“And that’s why you didn’t wanna tell her that you got a stomach bug?” Peter asks incredulously. 

“Um...actually…” Tony swallows. “I think it might be appendicitis.”

Peter blinks. “What the hell, Tony? You should be in a hospital.”

“Morgan is really scared of hospitals - it would have terrified her if she'd seen me get wheeled off to surgery again. I’m sorry, kid, but what was I supposed to do?” Tony tries to sit back carefully but then just sort of collapses against the wall, his right knee pulled up to his chest.

A hundred possible answers to this question spring to Peter’s mind, all of which include Tony telling him what was going on about three hours ago. But he swallows them down - now is not the time.

“C-Can you get Pepper?” Tony asks in a sort of pitiful voice.

He’s looking a lot worse than he did just ten minutes ago, and despite his anger, Peter feels a pang of sympathy when he realises just how much Tony must have been holding it together in front of Morgan. 

“Sure.” Peter nods. “But don’t think we’re done talking about this.”

Despite the misery he’s in, Tony manages a weak grin. “Yes, Dad,” he teases.

Peter just sighs.

He almost bumps into Pepper when he opens the door to the living room where Morgan is watching TV.

Pepper takes in the look on Peter’s face and frowns. “What did he do this time?” she mouths. 

“Appendicitis,” Peter whispers back. Pepper’s eyes widen a bit in concern, but otherwise she doesn’t seem nearly as shaken as Peter feels. Two decades of life with Tony Stark seems to have brought her anxiety threshold to an entirely new level. She steps out into the hall and pulls the door shut behind her.

“Are you sure?” she asks. 

“Tony seems sure. And the symptoms match - I think he’s been feeling sick at least since yesterday, and it’s just getting worse.” Peter bites his lip, suddenly overcome by guilt upon thinking about how long it took him to figure out that something was off. 

Pepper seems to catch on to this. “Hey, enough of that. It’s not your fault, okay? Tony is a stubborn idiot who’d rather have the whole world believe that he’s a class-A asshole than admit to being sick.” 

Peter swallows, thinking back to the little he knows about the palladium poisoning period of Tony’s life. His admiration for Pepper instantly increases tenfold.

“I’m gonna drive him to the hospital,” Pepper continues. “I know we were supposed to drop you back with your aunt later, but do you mind staying with Morgan until Happy can get here?”

“No problem,” Peter reassures. Pepper nods gratefully and then walks briskly past him to the bathroom, where, from the sound of it, Tony is being sick again.

Peter’s enhanced hearing picks up Tony’s croaky, “Hey, Pep,” when she enters.

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper replies. “You’re burning up. You’re a hot mess, you know that?” 

Tony chuckles weakly. 

“Do you think you can get up?” she goes on. “We need to get you straight to the hospital...” 

He’ll be fine, Peter tells himself. He’ll be alright.

He straightens up and opens the door to the living room. “Hey kid, what are you watching?”

*

Several hours later, Peter and Happy are sitting in front of the TV, Peter pretending to study his chemistry notes and Happy pretending to watch Grey’s Anatomy while mostly being caught up in their own thoughts. It took Happy a while to get to the lakehouse, and then Peter decided against driving home. It’s exam season and he can just as well study here. Plus, he wants to be able to visit Tony in the hospital the next day.

Morgan has finally succumbed to sleep after Happy read her four different picture books. She was cranky all evening, first asking for pudding and ice cream for dinner and then demanding extra TV time, but no one had the heart to stop her. Both Happy and Peter realised that that was just her way of dealing with the worry they’re all experiencing. 

Happy has almost fallen asleep on the couch when his phone starts to ring. He startles, then reaches out to pick it up. “Pepper,” he informs Peter. 

Peter shamelessly eavesdrops when Happy answers the call. 

“Hey,” Pepper greets on the other side. “It’s over. He’s awake now.”

Happy lets out a small exhale the same moment Peter feels the tension leave his own body. “Everything went well?” Happy asks. 

“Yeah, the operation went as planned. He was kind of out of it when he came around just now, sort of confused and anxious. Seems like Morgan isn’t the only one carrying around bad memories from the snap.”

Yeah, Peter thinks, you don’t say. 

“They gave him a light tranquilliser and he’ll probably sleep for the next few hours. I’ll stay here overnight if that’s alright with you, and if everything’s fine, you can bring Morgan here first thing in the morning. Peter too, if he wants to come.”

Happy raises a questioning eyebrow and Peter nods emphatically. 

“Yeah, he’ll come with us,” Happy reports. 

“Great.” Pepper lets out a sigh. “Tell Peter thanks for getting him home safely. Tony was asking about them - Morgan and Peter.”

“I will,” Happy says. “Try and get some sleep, boss.” 

“You too.” Peter practically hears the tired smile in Pepper’s voice. “Good night, Happy.” 

“So,” Happy turns to him after setting down the phone. “I suppose after today I should extend an official invitation to the official ‘Stark’s a Stubborn Idiot’ support group. We meet every other Thursday from seven to eight,” he deadpans. “Activities include dragging his ass to the hospital, dragging his ass to bed, dragging his... actually, mostly just a lot of ass-dragging.”

Peter laughs a bit at that. “Do I get a free t-shirt?”

Happy snorts. “I think that could be arranged.”

______________

If you liked this, you might also enjoy my 13k Irondad Endgame fix-it.

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Taglist: @toomuchtoread33  @yepokokfine

@badthingshappenbingo This is my fill for the ‘Appendicitis’ square.

[fortheheavenssake]

MM Anon 5

Dec 1

MM ANON, I’m watching series 1 of the crown, BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN AND EDITED. The filming is so accurate and attention to detail. I remember Norman Hartnell designing the Queens wardrobe for the commonwealth tour. My mother was a dress-maker so I watched everything she watched. Methinks the Queen had something to do with this because it’s so accurate. Reason, she’s 92 ‘ what a visual legacy. I can imagine her throwing a ashtray at Philip, and HIS secret dalliances. EPIC!!

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Dec 1

MM ANON ……… the king in waiting ……… “Mmmmm , not many diversions left”……… in need of some TLC. ……… financial scrutiny ……… financial mutiny !!! ………… “ Don��t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining!!!!!!”………… “Catherine ‘ it’s HM” ……… “ Catherine, I want your discretion”………… “ it would be my privilege ma’am”……… “ That’s a tough one, old thing” ……… “she can do it!! “…… “makes you proud old thing, he looks the part” ……… “backseat ,a Philip?” ………… “ dot The Is…………”

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Dec 2

MM ANON … “when we are born, we cry , that we are come”…… “your RH. that’s why you didn’t go” ……… “Four” ……… ahhhhhrrr , I hate mornings!! ……… “give a dog a bone …” ………… “ yes , we’re all watching it! It’s very addictive “ ……… “ How the f***did they know that!!!”………… “ I told them Philip!!” ……… “bloody snoops” …… At the last count sir , all was Ticketyboo.

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Dec 3

MM ANON ……… “Darling’ please pass the Wrinkle cream” ………”she’s on this blog I read”💜……… “ we’ve been invited to the Boxing Day shoot” …… WoW ‘ that’s a beautiful photo Kate …… “he’s to young ‘ good grief William!!”…… ‘This cobra has no fangs ……… “The service, maybe bring C&G.” ……… “ The spring diary ma’am’ was thinking they could do The America’s and Canada” ……… “ the Children too”…… “what say you Philip?” …… “indubitable , old thing” …… “ Settled!!”……” Sidney’ more refreshments”

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Dec 4

MM ANON ……… lovers not-on or emerald??…… Alexander McQueen green machine??……… Clean sweep!!!……………Trump wants his ball back…… Banquetiquette ……… “ One has to watch the hot mike Donald!!”……… Meanwhile’ crying in a corner……” a clash of Wills”……… “come on old thing,tell me all the gossip”………” Sydney ‘ gin and Du……” “ Ones a tad exhausted “…… “ you looked stunning Catherine “……… “yes ‘ I saw your killer 👀side eye “…… 👑👑💕💕And so to bed Zebedee!!……… “ Lottie ‘turn your pad off!!”…George’ sleep!!

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Dec 5

MM ANON …… “ no, not the service”……… Strip and rip…… IRSt in peace……” I think you’ll find it best ma’am”…… “ exactly ‘ peace and quiet”…… Distant thunder ……… “On Her Majesty’s secret service”…… No!! Not the whole enchilada………… The dossier, almost complete!!…… “Yes!! It certainly is personal”……… “she lived by the sor-did…… “gather thee rosebuds …………”…… “ not a word,old boy”. ……… “ Mmmm, unfortunate name for a club”……… “a sticky wicket,what!

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Dec 6

MM ANON … BREAKING NEWS ……… ‘ PGs WRINKLE CREAM FAILED MEGHAN-MARKLE AFTER EXHAUSTING APPLICATIONS. 😱😱😱😱 . Beautician suggests plastic surgery, no hope on skin care ……… laser treatment doesn’t cure problem. 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 6

MM ANON …… megbots in crisis …… megs spotted on ISS…… megs searchers internet for archificial upgrade …… megs still breastfeeding …… frogcott staff witness meg and Harry in screaming row 😱……… meg accused of bugging KP……… meg and archbishop in risqué photo shoot …… Archbishop denies clergy gossip …… meg ,VF interview ‘ I hate my chicken legs ‘…… Harry in GQ interview, I want a divorce ‘…… GQ, shock ‘horror, Harry’s OK’…… meg pens, ‘confessions of my yachting years’. … $20 million advance.

Thank you MM Anon😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

MM ANON, todays post is a light hearted look at the relationship between M&H. ……… to all who interprets, my sincere apologies. 🤣🤣🤣 KEEP CALM AND MEGXIT.

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Dec 6

MM ANON 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Prayers for victims of shooting at navy base in Florida. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 God grant the serenity to accept the things you cannot change. God bless the families involved. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

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Dec 6

MM ANON …… Muffin the mule…… looby loo & Andy pandy …… 95 , time!!…… “no’ not chaz”’……… “ I’m Meghan Markle and I indorse this massage” ……” An American Christmas card”…… betrayal in B&W……… “ it’s HMTQ your talking about!!!”…… “ tell her to PO ‘ it’s the Boxing Day shoot”……… 🎼I’m dreaming of a right Christmas 🎼…… a shortie but goody.

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Dec 6

MM ANON …💜💜💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜DEAR SKIPPY, WE HAVE EARTH ANGELS IN OUR HUMBLE MIST. GIANTS OF FORTITUDE, GODS OF DIVINITY AND LOVERS OF QUIET HUMILITY , TO ALL WHO WALK THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED WE ARE BLESSED BY YOUR AURA OF PROTECTION AND LOVE.

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Dec 7

MM ANON …… subpoenaed to swim uphill…… “withdrawal with notoriety”……… “pony!! “ she has no fear Catherine”……… “wherever did she get this wilfulness ?…… YOU!!!!…… “Philip will help me write it!!”……… “caution ma’am”……… “no colourful language”…… “ are you pensive LG”…… “frighteningly apprehensive ma’am”…… “I trust my subjects”………”one communicates with Netflix” ………”OMG😱😱”……”The Diana Years”……” it’s confidential LG!!”

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Dec 8

MM ANON …… not an engaging situation …… my LITTLE pony……… WOC-less……… We’re just mild about Harry …… a charitable laundromat ……… expenses,expenses ………”it’s a Multi million business, trim it”…… hangers OFF!!……… ‘‘twas the night before Christmas”……… a conservative Royalist ……… 12th night ……… morning sic -ness……… “ say goodnight Gracie.

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Dec 9

MM ANON ……… Re-Hab-itual behaviour ……” Gone In sixty seconds”…… ( six weeks?) ……… no sight, sound or visual,no optics???? …… old photos, photo shops and disinformation!!……… “ there OK, ma’am!!”…… “ones duty is, keep muddying the waters”…… The Peoples Princess, WHAT!!! ……… “capitalise on it ma’am”…… “AMERICA”…… “are you a gambling man LG?”……… “ only on absolutes”…… Charlotte’s wish-list Web 🤣🐴🦄🎼💕……… “what’s that racket basil”… “It’s Brahms, Brahms 4th racket”🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 9

MM ANON, Dearest skippy, your blog is a cutting-edge example of investigative information and in depth research by your helpers. This community YOU have created is visited by world tabloids , broadsheets and cable TV. Some even associate royalty and the establishment. How many times “ RIGHT HERE,RIGHT NOW!!” has the SKIPPY 20. been spot on. EPIC POSTING,EPIC INVESTIGATIVE DIGGING. ‘JUST EPIC!! BRAVA SKIPPY.

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Dec 10

MM ANON, Soooooo, Nutmeg … The merchandisers whore, has been reprimanded after 2 years of pimping out anything she wears for financial gain …… NO OTHER MEMBER OF THE FIRM DOES THIS, the salacious saleswhore and professional grifter has soiled the monarchy enough!! “ listening H !!! ‘ the public see right through this obnoxious interloper, the gathering of unhappy people are testimony to this couples blatant disregard of royal prerogative. This nonentity must go. ⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️Justice must prevail.

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Dec 10

MM ANON …… Predictions Guaranteed …… W&K increases commitment …… 🎼”no other love have i”🎼……… mummy serves a Christmas ace……4-0-tee-love…… advantage HMTQ …… nutmeg, FAULT!! …… DOUBLE FAULT!!…… Game, Set and scratch🤣🤣🤣…… “ these are actors,as I foretold you “………” thar’s gold in them thar Hills”………… 🎼”HOLLYWOOOOOOOD”🎼……… “An exit strategy LG.”……🎄 seasonal Sandringham🎄…… “I WANT A POOOOOOOOONY” ,please.🎅🎅😘😘😘………… “ ask your father!!……… ask your mother!! ……… ask Gan Gan. !!😂😂😂

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Dec 10

MM ANON, The first with the most news breaking!!!! The DOC is with child. PG said back in Nov. did I give a clue????? Can’t remember what yesterday’s riddle was 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I’m a mess of jumbled messages,and perhaps a little nuts. RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. speculation of course.

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MM ANON! ……… TRIBUTE TO TRUTH!! 💜💜💜💜 SALUTATIONS PG. TO SKIPPY AND THE BLOG COMMUNITY OF DEDICATED CONTRIBUTORS AND HELPERS. FOR HMTQ AND GBHMTQAOGC. TO THE curious who visit skippy, royal family,establishment and aristocracy. Thank you for your support. even the intellectually challenged misguided sugars who visit the bloggers blog. SALUTATIONS ALL. the truth will out. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Dec 10

MM ANON , re-Full work mode. Don’t loose track of the fact that this full on grifting colonial carpetbagger has Sunshine Sucks!! It’s a desperate juggernaut of spin , lies and everything in between. That’s why they call it “pubic relations.” ……… just think ‘ sex lies and video tapes. So PLEEEEEEZ. take this bull$h!t with a pinch of salt. Nutmeg lives and dies swimming in PR turds. It’s the nature of that particular beast. It’s simple physics, shit floats to the surface. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 10

MM ANON …… Dear anon, a big juicy revaluation?????? Well dear friend,I give what ,and all information I’m given by my esteemed sources. Those sources are well under the establishment radar. Total anonymity,TOTAL!!! The wonderful information is sometimes current,sometimes elaborate and embellished sometimes “spot on!!!” So’ I’ll continue to inform and enlighten as is my want and skippy’s indulgence. GBHMTQAOGC

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Dec 10

MM ANON. , dear hearts , The loneliness of the long distance grifter, the isolation and contempt of the family “ she never had” and desertion of former associates in crime are deserting her in proverbial droves. The lifetime gravy boat she contemplated has listed ,and is rapidly sinking beneath the sea of turds she created for her self centred indulgence. This is our observation and her reality. NB. There is video evidence of her “ habits” from the , “ good old snorting days”. Allegedly!! 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 10

MM ANON, Trolls have one positive point, they validate the existence of those they resent , they justify that resentment by insults and jibes infantile name calling and illiterate smears. Trolls are degenerate operatives of fallen social climbers,those sad creatures of the ones who once tolerated them but now have nothing left but contempt. Nutmeg is such a creature, an abysmal product of her own greed and failed dreams. How the might have ,have fallen. 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 11

MM ANON, The anomaly that reportedly exists called archificial is a mystery of unfathomable proportions. The vision of it at the Tutu audience is somewhat baffling, nutmegs obvious unease and awkward stance when trying to hold the poor child,who reaches for… somebody it knows. The whole situation has never been experienced within a minor Royal situation. Nutmeg & Harry are causing ripples 🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣’ will the Christmas card explain more?????? Curiosity awaits!!!!

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Dec 11

MM ANON ………🎼 jingle smells, jingle smells 🎼……… 🎼” I’m dreaming of a POC Christmas”🎼…… “ no Christmas chemicals or alcohol in re-hab”……… “ on a whiter note”…… “ come on Lottie ‘ aunties found a little pony” …… “ So !!! You caved darling.”…… “well ‘ it’s Christmas!!”……… “not turkey ‘ Dover sole!!”… “ but it’s tradition Philip”……“ f**** tradition !!”…… “I’ll inform Sydney”…… “are you going to announce it old thing?”…… ANOTHER COUNTRY … “He’s a brilliant speech writer” …… “you’ll bloody need it

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Dec 11

MM ANON, 🎼she wore blueeeeeeeee velvet 🎼 and the lovers knot,and HMTQ In emeralds

Ok you all! These are hints she gave us….now let’s match to the riddles…..and of note…..she kept talking about the Emeralds….we presumed Kate……she never said Kate…..❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Dec 12

MM ANON ………emeralds should do the trick …… they certainly did…… W&K the lovers knot ………💍 a ring (Rock) of ages…… No Sin-ders you WON’T go to the ball😂😂……… 🎼”re-hab’ I said ,know know know!!!”🎼…… “ we ALL KNOW nutmeg!!”…… “GOD’ she’s in all the papers Philip”…… “ I see, she’s beautiful old thing”…… “she shines Philip”……… Wanta Konta and Kate🎾🎾…… Boris the spider…… “ doesn’t matter who you vote for, the government get in !!”…… sneezing ponytails 🐴🐴

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Dec 12

MM ANON, …… Princess Margaret’s Limerick at President Lyndon Johnson’s dinner party ‘ I quote … “ there was a young lady from Dallas, … Who used dynamite as a phallus,… blowing her tits to bits , Her vagina to China ,and her @sehole to Buckingham Palace. …… forgive the colourful language, but it is funny. 😂😂😂😂😂

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Dec 12

MM ANON , We all remember Fergie and the toe sucking/ pool screwing photos so for her to aligned herself with nutmeg is probably a “ girl’s of a feather “ both are ageing slappers , and who in God’s dear sweet world takes Sarah bloody Ferguson seriously , really REALLY !!! She’s always been an embarrassment to the firm , hated by PP and PC/Camilla PA. so it’s all a smoking mirrors BS-fest. And her association with Epstein, ……… give me a break!!!!!

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Dec 12 - Election Day, UK

MM ANON, …… Princess Margaret’s Limerick at President Lyndon Johnson’s dinner party ‘ I quote … “ there was a young lady from Dallas, … Who used dynamite as a phallus,… blowing her tits to bits , Her vagina to China ,and her @sehole to Buckingham Palace. …… forgive the colourful language, but it is funny. 😂😂😂😂😂

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Dec 12

MM ANON, WELL ‘WELL ‘WELL …… nutmeg is apoplectic in re-hab after this mornings papers are FULL of photos of The fragrant Kate and HMTQ in Vlad & lovers knot tiaras. Her sugars are like Lemmings jumping of off Beachy Head 😂😂🤣🤣 and Fergie facedump is identifying with the old slapper because they both caught shagging by the poolside. 😂😂😂. EPIC

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Dec 13

MM ANON …… Cor’ bin a long night!!…… “ Darling ‘ it’s an allagee-gee” ……” majori-ty and crumpets ma’am”…… “ “That’s all ,I’m orf to Sandringham”……… George&Kate set and match…”that’s it Lottie ‘ walk on !!”…… “ I did it auntie Zara”…… “ Ducks in a row then Netty?”……… “Nurse!! What’s the bleeding time”?…… A little procedure!!…… “ the lids screwed down ma’am”……… “ones writing ones screech”…… “he’s coming Philip!!” …… “backlash old thing?”………… “it’s a Norwegian Blue Philip 😂😂”

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Dec 13

MM ANON, WELL ‘WELL ‘WELL …… nutmeg is apoplectic in re-hab after this mornings papers are FULL of photos of The fragrant Kate and HMTQ in Vlad & lovers knot tiaras. Her sugars are like Lemmings jumping of off Beachy Head 😂😂🤣🤣 and Fergie facedump is identifying with the old slapper because they both caught shagging by the poolside. 😂😂😂. EPIC

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Dec 13

MM ANON, NEVER A LONELY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄Dear hearts , never will the soul that is Skippy abandon you this Christmas ,or her community of spiritual warriors, there love is endless, this is the land of earths angels 👼 and animal amazements. Join the fellowship of friends and hugs. God bless you all ,thank you Dearest skippy, no lonely soul this Christmas. 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️💚💚💚

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Dec 14

MM ANON ……… Blueeeeeeee velvet …… pop pop Poppins ……… she met Mary ………” Mmmmmm , a bit sneeeeezy”……… “ we’ll go and get something really silly for her” …… it’s not a phone, it’s a MPC…… “ it’s all very Cloak & dagger”…… “ Catherine, I’m deadly serious!!”……… “meals on bloody wheels!! piss orf”……… Shut down everything!! ………… “A new broom,old thing”…………… “ well, ones not amused “………… “I’ll inform Sydney”……… From Cromer!!……… “Cromer???”

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Dec 15

MM ANON, sidebar’ thank you skippy,my favourite colour ROYAL BLUE / INDIGO mix. or blue velvet ‘ a joy. as you inform all the community in a couple of weeks we won’t remember anything else. I have a question dear heart ❣,are you broadcasting over Christmas 🎄 ? My Christmas is spent with a few friends of likeminded opinions. Belgravia is alive and festive. We shall wander into Chelsea to people watch and mull the wine and mince the tarts. Looking forward to wishing all a healthy Christmas 🎄.

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Dec 15

MM ANON ………… 🎼” give a little, take a little”🎼…… “Mary, Mary, quite …………”……FBI , (under the stones)……… “ very succinct old thing”…… “ blunt’ Philip!”……… “its a beautiful yacht ma’am” ………… “ I fear 20, more than 19” ………TO THE VICTOR……”………… a little late dear friend ……… WHITEHALL NOW!! …… only one came ……… IF , dear boy IF”……… “ you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off”

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Dec 16

ANON, OMG’ something every royal father and mother dread…… “ can’t we take them back to our house, it’s HUGE!!” ( homeless inquiry’s by G&C. ) it’s like “ what’s electrickery” …… or “ why is the sky blue?”… so , Catherine’s response, “ I’ll ask Gan, Gan darling, maybe they’ll find a safe space for them ……… “ I know mummy, they could all live in Gan gans house” 😒😒😒😒 side eyes to William, William changes subject to pony’s and tennis.

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Dec 16

MM ANON, Sooooo’ Nutmeg And himself won’t be At Wednesday’s Turkey nosh at BP ,Mmmmm , no surprise there Ma’am. The insolent obnoxious self indulgent hoe and her now husband see’s it fitting to snub the invitation. Truth be known everyone is waving flags that she’s staying with her Calipornia besties , if they exist?? The anomaly in this puzzle, no comment from himself?? WHY? One would expect one to” come clean” and stop the speculation, strangely strange!!! On the fence? What’s happening?

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Dec 16

MM ANON, praises, salutations, respect, recognition, I stand in awe of the interpretations that anons gracefully post when sifting through the mine field of riddles. It’s an almost psychic melt of another’s thinking 💭 🤔 THANK YOU DEAR ANONS , AND MAY YOU CONTINUE INTO 2020 WITH TENACIOUS DILIGENCE AND APTITUDE. 💜💚❤️

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Dec 17

MM ANON , There used to be British comedy called Kevin and Perry…… two obnoxious teenagers, Kevin always used the argument “ it’s soooooo unfair!!” , this reminds me of that self pitying tw** nutmeg crying over perception of her importance!!! HOW CAN SOMEONE WHO IS IRRELEVANT BE IMPORTANT ???? THEIR PR IS IN OVERDRIVE DESPERATELY SEEKING EXPOSURE AND DEAR K&W IS KNOCKING THEM BACK EVERY DAY. nutmeg hiding in a cubicle screaming and kicking “ it’s sooo unfair” 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 17

MM ANON , Methinks anon may be on the right track. Nutmegs Christmas card will be something that flips the bird at the establishment. Giving the middle finger to the royal family and her critics, bet whatever it is it won’t be subtle. The vacuous tart is resentful and insecure so she’ll be out to insult and justify her existence , although we all know it’s irrelevant, expect the unexpected. Tutu, B&W , archificial playing football, tits and bums , expect anything and everything

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Dec 17

MM ANON, A very Mary Christmas,has knocked the irrelevant one from the tabloids and broadsheets. W&K are right,left and centre of ALL stories today. What seems to be obvious is that William and Kate come across as relatable and normal, unlike the portentous and phoney nutmegs. Forgive my observation ,himself looks like he’s shot himself in both feet, all the stroking,touching claw holding, is sickening to observe. You could have fooled me he’s not with her. BUT!!! we’ll see at Sandringham.

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Dec 17

MM ANON …… The Christmas Royal choreography ……… Homeless hope……… “not just for Christmas”…… quiet compassions ……… Brits rage at nutmeg……… “ it’s Harry Jim,But not as we knew him”……… “ what’s the answer Spock?”……… EST…… “ eat your vegetables!!”……… “ but mummy, that’s sooooo unfair” ……… “no veg, no pony!!”……… “well from a PR standpoint, it’s an annual thing now”………… “ front and centre ma’am”……… “quite agree!!” ……… “Philip ??” ……… “people identify old thing”……… “ The Sandringham songbirds”

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Dec 18

MM ANON, Today The HMTQ will retire to the warming confines Of Sandringham. Reunited with PP and relaxing evenings in front of a real log fire 🔥. Sydney will be on call to deliver copious amounts of ones favourite tipple. Writing her speech and watching back episodes of Downton Abbey. Occasionally taking trips around the vast estate in the royal Land Rover. A relaxing few days before the tribe descend on them for the festivities 🥳. CHRISTMAS CARDS PLEASE !!!!

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Dec 18

MM ANON …… we are in the age of fast transport. Depending on what mode of royal conveyance Sandringham is one hour from London. ( to anon stuck in the 18th century). A cool Yule to all anons 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

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Dec 18

MM ANON ……… 🎼tis’ the season’ ……… 🎼……… “Tighter than ones ducks @ss under water ma’am”…… “indubitably LG, send the letters!!”……… “ Netty has it stitched!!”……… I think they were spotted on Elba……… someone saw them in Calvi ……… “Hmmmm, the historical significance doesn’t escape me”……… “ what say you Philip?”……” who gives a sh**, fancy a drinky?

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Dec 18

Anonymous asked:

MM ANON, The dynamic trio’ GC&L , these three children are about to embark on their life adventure, and yes’ I can see them taking over the world, first George, moulded by and coached by his father he will be diplomatic and educated in high tech and security of the family ,think oxford illuminati crossed with Bond. He will grow into a handsome man , followed and pursued by bright well educated beautiful women. He’ll be guided by his parents on who is a suitable girl friend, there will be many.

skippyv20 answered:

Oh yes indeed! Thank you😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

skippyv20

MM ANON / Part 2, Charlotte, Now this young woman to be will become the conflict within herself, opinionated and self willed she will be a laser focused neutral beauty of formidable character, mindful of her station she will develop compassion and empathy with her loving public, this will be a PRINCESS OF AND FOR THE PEOPLE, much loved in all circles of society, willing to get down and dirty and attend diplomatic banquets on the same day. Versatile perfection and stunning looks, 👀. Look out!!

MM ANON. Part 3/ Louis, this young man to be will find himself in a singular activity, I can see him as an explorer of his chosen passion. Space will become very important in 2040. and this young man could well be a pioneer in his chosen field. There may be a conflict and he will be part of that environment. No fear this soldier of fortune, And Again a handsome man followed by swooning beautiful young ladies. He will be advised once again to choose wisely. Speculation of course.

Sounds so wonderful! Thank you😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Dec 19

MM ANON …… Kate’s Christmas present to nutmeg …… Wrinkle cream!!😱😱…… new year getaway W&K……The Firm views pre-recorded QS. ……… A Royal decade, the 20,20s. …… “ up a gear ma’am”…… “ Keep calm and ostracise LG”…… 🎬it’s a wonderful life 🎬…… “ FROZEN mummy!!!”………”STAR WARS daddy!!”……… OMG ‘ it’s her Christmas card ……… “ we never received one” …… “ bloody lucky you!! “…… 🎼bye bye miss American pie🎼……… Kate’s tabloid cull…… “ what’s your 20?”

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Dec 19

MM ANON, THE CAMBRIDGE CHRISTMAS CARD. The M/ Cycle is a Triumph engine in a Rickman-Mettisse frame/ sidecar. Circa, 1955 ish’ The Duke being an ardent Biker, (photos of him sitting on a Norton Brietling at the IOM last year.) I’m sure he still goes on “race days at Brands Hatch”. Fast and safe ,all of this is testimony to a visionary CCard to show the world a relaxed and tight family unit. Unportentous and normal. It could be any family in any decade. 

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Dec 19

MM ANON, Spending two thirds of your life with your legs open is a consequence of ones occupation, nutmegs stance has been an open book (legs) since we first saw her trundle into KP gardens. At every photographic opportunity she has her legs apart it’s a habit of the life she chose. ‘S’pose life transactions that include money in your hand ,smile on ones face and legs apart can only suggest what your occupation was ?? Yachting takes its toll, only speculation 🤣🤣🤣.

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Dec 20

MM ANON. BREAKING NEWS/ PP TAKEN TO KING EDWARD VII HOSPITAL IN LONDON THIS MORNING. OUR THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS🙏🏻

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Dec 20

MM ANON ………an unwelcome intrusion ……… “ and it was all going so well” …… “ sweeping the the whole bloody house!! “…… fun and games ……… C&G play charades …… Def-Con 4……… “150 million expected ma’am”…… “ my little Pony”…… mini scrambler,🏍Wow!!…… “grouse for the grown-ups”…… “dial it back ma’am?”……” what happens in Sandringham, stays in Sandringham”…… “Charles, see to the RPOs”…… “ night before Christmas,and all round the house “………… Great Expectations

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Dec 21

MM ANON ……… “ it’s a tad cautionary ma’am”……… visiting hours only!!! ……… “ no bloody fuss, piss off” ……… “ and SYDNEY!! no drinks !!!”……… she’s here until January …… Diplomatic immunity…… one way in, one way out!!……… Full cover’ face recognition and sleeper van. ……… “ 🎼the kids are alright!!👀🎼”……… “ to start with’ it’s a 50cc Yam.”……… “ a pony has more torque” ……… “stop worrying Catherine!!”…… “It’s His Decision”……… “ I’ll meet, just say when!! “.

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Dec 22

MM ANON ……… George in the mix. …… a royal blackout …… pensive at the Forth Bridge …… “ Royal Bostic sir”…… “ unity ma’am!!”……… Done and Dusted ……… No Card???……… Christmas IG word salad and virtue massage …… …… rapidly dissolving PR……… “ when in doubt use mental health” ……… “we need a distraction ma’am”……… it’s a win, win !!……… “that’s a silly jumper William”

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Dec 24

MM ANON …… yesterday’s riddle?? ……… Christmas Eve prayer’s …… 2.09 pm in England …… not on my watch. ………… Father Christmas 🎄 comes to Sandringham …… nutmegs not here 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳…… Mike incognito ……… Lost in Space ………” Yes , but dress them warm”. ……… A long wait for the faithful …… everyone is vetted and counted. …… it begins for little royals……” Andrew!!!”…… “Bloody hell’ I’m here you know!!” ……… “Ahhhh, Lobster 🦞 Bisque!!” ……… “Overtired!!”

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Dec 25

MM ANON …… Security , at church service is stitched up like a kipper. RPO is unobtrusive but very present. Notice HMTQ never left alone, always surrounded. GBHMTQAOGC

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Dec 25

MM ANON …… Lottie kills it with pink flamingo … 🥳🥳absent madam🥳…absentee ginger …… K&W now it’s a new monarchy!! …… happy Christmas to all our readers …… UK migrant terrorist alert …… PA on silent running …… skippy breaking news about Lottie on Christmas walk way back……… right here, right now!! ……… DM follows skippy …… dogs behind.

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Dec 25

It’s the time lag. ……… MM ANON ……… to all on the bloggers blog!! 9.26 am. At time of post. A Very special day to all , Christmas, pets , those flying, those being cuddled. Happy Christmas 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 skippy Family, 💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻LK🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜to all 🙏🏻🙏🏻💜

Thank you dear MM Anon! Merry Christmas💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Dec 25

MM ANON 💜💜💜 HAPPINESS TO ALL THIS CHRISTMAS 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Dec 26

MM ANON ……… Morning paper!! ……… OMG………… she’s a superstar ………… “ your the one who wanted this” ………… “we’ve started a monster”……… 🎼I’m alumberjackandimOK🎼………… don’t go and tell them……… just friends!! ……… 🎼Substitute 🎼……… tumblr is a crap site……… you’ll miss me ……… stop listening to the static. ………… we need the space

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Dec 27

MM ANON …… Right here,Right now!! …………… lots of faithful followers ……… Skippy for news going into New year ……… sales of wrinkle cream skyrockets ……… Vancouver, Smancouver ………… DISINFORMATION …… “ May the force be with you “……… “ Lies, she tells, grifter she is!!”…… hiking,shmiking ……… Archificial in-samination…… happy new lies ……… PR incredulous …… Canada turns its back!!……… “ not another bloody photo!!”…… “ stupid bloody card!,”……… “ another Snifter old thing?”

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Dec 28

MM ANON ……… illusions of grandeur ………not in my Restaurant ……… Canada snubbing you. …… Britain will boo you……… LA New Years …… go to Alaska!!! ……… C&G new found fame ……… W&K , curb there enthusiasm ……… mid-wife’s helper……………United monarchy ………New Years at the Middletons. ……… “who said it.” … “he used to be more accommodating” ………… an empty £4,000,000 joke……… “ he’s not impressed” ………… “ that ship has sailed

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Dec 28

MM ANON … Many thanks for your input in 2019. Wishing you a happy new year. ❤️❤️❤️

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Dec 29

MM ANON, …… Thank you for all you diligently working on the riddles. 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️ You are the real stars of MM ANON, you are the ones the skippetts look forward to reading. You’re there ( make it easy) day. To understand the riddles and give us the answers is a selfless action of altruism. Thank you all , especially PG and LK 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️ God bless you all and a happy new year.

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Dec 29

MM ANON …… I have a minor task……… Due Diligence ……… 🎼And here you go again 🎼……… “ They will encounter a heavy work load”…………”it’s not impossible”………… The one thing we can’t take for granted ……… SNAKES and ladders ……… “she only comes out at night” ………… A challenging time ahead …… not their best decision ………… They have all the answers ……… The return will be difficult, if they return??………… make or break!!

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Dec 30

ANON , On New Year’s Eve Eve , we give thanks for the tribulations of 2019 because without them we couldn’t face 2020. We know what to expect, more two faced lies , action and disinformation via their PR. So expect more of the same and more of us with skippy’s help and the help of anons can plough through the coming year. Mutual support and tenacity demands our continuous vigilance. Joyous new year. 

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Dec 31

MM ANON …… “ happy new year to all our readers”…… 20.20. predictions ……… MM implosion ………Keep it quite!!………G&C in the viralsphere …… K&W keep it real ……… C&C relax duties ……… The best of the best……… 🎼if your sweet heart sends a letter 🎼………🎼 keep on runnin 🎼………… lack of vision ……… “ she’s blind as a BAT”……… Times Squared…… “ ring out the old, welcome the new”

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[macgyvermedical]

An Environmental and Public Health Review of 1985 MacGyver’s “Bitter Harvest“

Let’s face it- everyone’s doing medical reviews these days. It’s about time someone realized that public health is in all your favorite TV shows, lurking in the background, just waiting to be reviewed...

And by favorite TV shows, I mean 1985 MacGyver. Cause damn could this show roll out the public health storylines.

If you haven’t seen the episode “Bitter Harvest”, its a pretty social justice heavy one:

Mac ends up stranded in a town of agricultural laborers who suspect that the company employing them is using unsafe pesticide applications in their vinyards, causing elevated rates of cancer, mystery illnesses, and birth defects. When a prominent figure in the community is killed over his workers’ rights protest, Mac decides to go undercover as one of the workers, finding that the company has been using an illegal plant growth regulator they suspect is behind the illnesses. The episode deals with issues of environmental and occupational health, worker’s rights, and the social determinants of health overall.

This post will cover all the public health related knowledge you can stand about the potentially illegal chemical application, the social determinants of health, and of course, the many, many, many times Mac gets sick or injured during his 4-day stay in Kasabian, CA.

Skip to “The Medical Review Part” if you’re just here to watch Mac suffer.

My previous MacGyver (2016 and 1985) reviews:

Awl - X-Ray + Penny - Duct Tape + Jack - CD + Hoagie Foil - Guts + Fuel + Hope - Wilderness + Training + Survival - Father + Bride + Betrayal - Lidar + Rogues + Duty - Nightmares - Seeds + Permafrost + Feather - Friends + Enemies + Border - Mason + Cable + Choices -

Note: listen, guys, I was really trying hard not to make this into another 3000-word post... but I did. This literally took me weeks to research and write. For ease of scrolling, I’ve put a read more here. Enjoy!

Agricultural Chemical Application

In the episode, residents of the town claim they’ve been illegally exposed to agricultural chemicals. Various characters tell stories of being forced to work in fields too soon after pesticide application, and of the illnesses or birth defects they and their children have suffered because of it.

The application of pesticides, fertilizers, and in certain cases plant growth regulators, are vital to modern agriculture operating at the scale necessary to support a nearly 8-billion-human planet. Due to the fact that many of these chemicals will eventually enter human bodies, great effort has been made over the last century to create chemicals that function to kill pests and increase crop yields while posing as little harm as possible to the humans who may also be exposed to them.

The episode features three very different agricultural chemicals- Captain, Methomyl, and 4-CPA. The first two, Captain and methomyl, are both pesticides. Pesticide is an umbrella term for any chemical that kills an unwanted animal (i.e. a rodenticide), insect (insecticide), fungus (fungicide), plant (herbicide), microbe (microbicide), or algae (algaecide). Pesticides are often necessary to control populations of animals and insects that would eat the crop, control fungus and algae that would spoil it, and control the growth of plants that would compete with the crop for nutrients.

Pesticides (and many other agricultural chemicals) are regulated in the US under a law called FIFRA- the Federal Insecticide, Fungicide, and Rodenticide Act. FIFRA is enforced by the US EPA, who generally details where, when, how, and how much of an agricultural chemical can be used, as well as how much of any agricultural chemical can be left on the final crop (this is usually a very small amount).

Captain is a blend of copper-based microbicides and algaecides. Copper-based pesticides have been around since the 1700s. They’re used on almost every conventional food crop in some form to prevent fungal and bacterial infestation, as well as to prevent the growth of algae in standing water. Generally, they can be pretty irritating to eyes and skin and toxic if swallowed at high concentrations, but they’re pretty safe in the dilute amounts routinely used.

Methomyl is a carbamate insecticide. Many forms of insecticide, carbamates included, work because they prevent the breakdown of a neurotransmitter called acetylcholine in the insect. This causes an overproduction of acetylcholine and the death of the bug. Since humans also produce and break down acetylcholine in a similar way, carbamates are also toxic to humans. In fact, they’re extremely similar to the chemical weapons known as nerve agents.

Why would we spray nerve agents on food? Well, carbamates and organophosphates (another similar pesticide) are actually pretty nonpersistant, meaning that they rapidly break down in the environment and become non-toxic long before the end consumer is exposed. This is good for humans, because it means we can spray them on food, kill the bugs, wait a certain amount of time, and then we can re-enter the fields or eat food without being poisoned.

Toward the beginning of the episode, Mac is knocked out and left in a field, where he is sprayed directly with some form of agricultural chemical. This leaves him generally weak and coughing for the rest of the episode. While never really explained, if I were to give my best guess as to what was sprayed on him based on what is shown in the episode, methomyl would be it.

Weakness, coughing, nausea/vomiting/diarrhea, excessive salivation, sweating, blurred vision, and constricted pupils are all symptoms of exposure to carbamates, organophosphates, and their earlier and significantly more persistent (and therefore toxic) cousins the organochlorines. Fortunately for Mac, acute (one-time) exposures to carbamates like this don’t tend to have long-term consequences once the person recovers.

The last chemical mentioned in the episode was 4-CPA, referred to in the episode as “fix”. 4-CPA is a plant growth regulator (basically a synthetic plant hormone) that restricts root development in some plants and increases fruit yield in others. In the episode it’s treated like it’s some super toxic, illegal pesticide that would be outrageous and reckless to use on your grape crop. In reality, it’s not really dangerous to humans at all (it can be irritating to skin and eyes, but its non-cancer-causing, non-birth-defect-causing, and generally not even that acutely toxic), and the US uses so little of it as a country (about 20lbs total per year) that just in quantity it’s probably not a threat to the general environment either.

At the time of the episode 4-CPA was only approved for use on tomatoes and mung beans, meaning that the episode’s assertion that it was illegal on grapes is technically true (why Mac knows this off the top of his head is beyond me, but here we are). I’m not sure what, if anything, would happen if you put it on grapes, but I get the sense it either wouldn’t do anything, or wouldn’t do enough good to justify the expense. Today, it’s just approved for mung beans (and either way, it’s not sprayed, the mung beans are just washed in a really dilute solution of it before they’re allowed to sprout).

If you’re like me, you’re wondering “so why use 4-CPA as the big bad chemical at all when there are clearly more dangerous, more illegal agricultural chemicals to choose from?” I had 2 ideas:

4-CPA has a really limited market. Even if the episode launched some kind of investigation into it, it wouldn’t disrupt any significant amount of agriculture.

Mac needed to be able to identify the substance with limited resources, and 4-CPA just happens to have an obvious “melting crystal” structure that can be seen with a homemade polaroscope (I don’t know this for a fact, but since that’s how Mac identified it and there’s not really any other reason to use it, there might be some scientific truth to it).

4-CPA’s toxicity wasn’t actually relevant plot-wise, they just needed something illegal Kasabian was doing that Tony could have used to open dialogue about a union contract. This gets some mixed-signals throughout the episode because they seem to use it interchangeably with “toxic pesticide”, but it could have been the initial intent.

At the end of the episode it is revealed that Kasabian (the character) has ordered that all grapes treated with 4-CPA to be destroyed, voluntarily submitted his fields to outside testing, and decided to stop using “Tox 1″ pesticides. This is in reference to the chemical’s US Toxicity Class. The most toxic are “Toxicity Class 1″ which are fatal if less than 5g of the substance is ingested. The least toxic is “Toxicity Class 4″ which is entirely non-fatal and non-toxic at most reasonably ingest-able doses.

For reference, 4-CPA is a “Tox 4″, while Captain is a “Tox 3″ and methomyl is a “Tox 1″. So basically the ones Mac brushed off as “legal” are way, way more toxic than the one they make a big deal about.

(I did try to figure out what the heck dynaset (dinaset? dynacet? idk?) was, but came up empty. If you know what the heck Alex was talking about with his story about the guy who died from dynaset exposure, please let me know!)

The Social Determinants of Health:

In the episode, Carmen and Mac have a discussion about why Carmen’s daughter Natalie was born with a limb defect. Mac asks if she thinks it has to do with pesticide exposure, but while Carmen endorses having worked in the fields until well into her 3rd trimester and was certainly exposed to agricultural chemicals, she is hesitant to agree, stating “we are poor people, Mr. MacGyver. Many things contribute to birth defects.”

While Carmen may be curbing her language out of fear in this scene, she’s not wrong in suggesting that her socioeconomic status may be just as important a factor in her family’s overall health outcomes. More broadly, this concept is known as the Social Determinants of Health- the idea that while access to healthcare and general health choices are important, factors like economic stability, education/language/literacy, built environment, food security, and social support actually have a substantially greater impact on overall health.

This is a massive topic, and not one we can completely cover in the post, but know that this is a thing that we think about extensively in both the medical and public health worlds:

Consider that the children of Kasabian are growing up in poverty and possibly food insecurity, reliant on local-tax-funded public education that may or may not be provided in an appropriate language, with parents who work long days in the field and carry home pesticide residue on their clothes, whose drinking water is likely contaminated with the same pesticides, and who primarily receive healthcare from a free clinic (mentioned in the episode).

Contrast this with a child who grows up in an affluent, safe, suburban community with an affordable super market within driving distance, reliable and flexible transportation, a well-funded school system with classes taught in their primary language, with clean tap water, consistent healthcare, and whose parents work in low-physical-risk occupations and can afford to spend time with them without a life-altering reduction in income.

Could both of these children grow up healthy? Sure, but even if the Kasabian child’s parents are careful to take their clothes off before hugging them, install and maintain filters on their taps, give up sleep to tutor them, and obtain healthy food from some other source, these activities would cause a significant burden to the family and the environment itself would still put the child behind. Even in the best of circumstances, with parents who are both creative and really, really trying, the child growing up in Kasabian is still going to be exposed to higher levels of pesticides, have a lower quality education (and therefore lower health literacy), lack appropriate healthcare, and get less sleep, all of which together contribute to statistically worse health outcomes. 

Now, I did a quick lit search to see if anyone had found an association between limb defects and parental occupational (work-related) exposure to agricultural chemicals. In the several studies I looked at, (1 based on data from the 1980s), there was either no association or a very weak association between parental pesticide exposure and limb defects. This means that her mother’s pesticide exposure was likely not the cause of Natalie’s birth defect (common causes of limb reduction defects include thalidomide, misoprostal, or anti-convulsant exposure, certain viral infections, and folic acid deficiency, though many times the reason is unknown).

Had it been the cause, though, consider that Carmen likely felt compelled to continue working her manual labor job where pesticide exposure was likely because she had no other choice economically. If she didn’t want to starve in the weeks of income loss after Natalie’s birth, she had to work for as long as she could. In a more affluent household or an area less reliant on agricultural work, she may have been able to afford to take the time off or work a different job during her pregnancy, which might have prevented the birth defect. 

The Medical Review Part

I said this was going to be a public health review, but let’s also face it- Mac was arrested, in a car accident, knocked out, poisoned, forced to walk 20 miles in the sun with no water, nearly suffocated, and thrown through a plate glass shower in this episode, so we’re still going to talk about medical things (but relate them back to public health, of course!).

The first thing is that car accident. After being released from jail, one of the organizers, Tony, offers Mac a place to stay for the night. On the way back to Tony’s house, his car is run off the road, resulting in what was essentially a front-end collision with a ditch. The pic below doesn’t look too rough, but that car was airborne before it face-planted into that dirt, so... it was bad.

Tony’s car is a 1973 Chrysler New Yorker (thanks to @thefirstusernameithoughtof​ for the ID). The 1973 New Yorker did have 3-point seatbelts, and we know from the screenshot below that both Mac and Tony were wearing them correctly (this show is so good at role modeling, even the little things, man I love it). However, like many 70s vehicles, it did not have additional safety features like airbags or a crumple zone.

This would be in accordance with the law at the time- although seatbelts were mandatory as far back as 1968, front airbags wouldn’t become mandatory until 1998 (based on a law first introduced in 1991), and “crumple zones” (the front portion of the vehicle that “crumples” to absorb force in an impact to avoid crushing the occupants), while standard today, has never been made legally mandatory in the US. Without this technology, I think its unlikely Mac and Tony survived this crash without very serious injuries.

Despite this, they appear to be unharmed (those sure were some great seatbelts), and after surviving the accident well enough to get up and then run from the scene, Mac is incapacitated by the comparatively minor insult of a 2x4 to the face.

And I will say, it would have been totally realistic for Mac to get a mild-to-moderate concussion resulting in him being unable to fight back or get up for several minutes, giving the bad guys a chance to escape and for Mac to be sprayed with pesticide.

If you remember from earlier in the post, out of the pesticides mentioned, I think methomyl is probably what Mac gets sprayed with. Throughout the rest of the episode, we see him weak, coughing and sweaty, which line up well with the symptoms of carbamate pesticide poisoning (in case you skipped the first part of the post, other symptoms include blurred vision, constricted pupils, excessive salivation, and nausea/vomiting/diarrhea, which I suppose would be difficult to show on family-friendly TV).

Even though he is grossly decontaminated (washed off) by Carmen, as someone recently concussed and poisoned, Mac probably should have sought some form of medical attention. He didn’t. Instead, two days later, still reasonably sick, Mac decides he needs some answers and goes undercover as one of the laborers. He’s not doing too great, and has to work all day in the hot sun. With the extra sweating, salivation, nausea and diarrhea from the aftereffects of the pesticide, Mac would have had to be really, really careful to stay hydrated.

And, I suppose, he tries. In terrible Spanish, Mac asks if there is any water, to which a woman points him to a spigot.... about thirty feet from a latrine. He, I think reasonably in the moment, chooses not to drink it.

Being that the field was 20 miles from town, I have to assume that the water coming out of the spigot was from a well. And since we have to assume that this well provides drinking water to more than 25 people more than 60 days per year, it is legally considered a public water source, and thereby beholden to the 1986 Safe Drinking Water Act. That means that in order to be in compliance, the water coming out of it either had to be regularly tested to ensure that it naturally met maximum allowable standards for various contaminants (like... human waste and pesticide runoff), or it had to be fitted with a filter or other means of reducing those contaminants to maximum allowable levels.

But that’s legally. The EPA, who would be enforcing that Act, probably wouldn’t come in and ensure that testing was being done unless someone complained, and given the other things that have happened in this episode that haven’t been reported (like, you know, the murder), Mac has every right to be suspicious of that water source.

The fact that there are workers in a remote field without a clean water source is also probably several OSHA violations, but we don’t have time for that right now.

Given that Mac was soon after discovered and forced to walk the 20 miles back to town, it might have been worth it to get some of that contaminated water. Since he made it back to town at all, I have to assume he found a surface water source and a way to clean it (he is MacGyver, after all), between the fields and the town, otherwise, considering that he’s in rough shape already, that very well could have been death number 2 for him this episode.

The next day, somehow still upright, Mac goes looking for proof that Kasabian was violating the law. He ends up finding it, but is interrupted, punched multiple times, and thrown through a sheet of glass not once, but twice, thus earning his 3rd, 4th, 5th, and probably 6th concussions of the episode. So at this point he really, really should be seeing a doctor.

Instead, he goes to a funeral.

R E F E R E N C E S    R E F E R E N C E S  

[satoshi-mochida]

Compile Heart has opened the official website for Death end re;Quest 2, providing first official information regarding the story, keywords, characters, and battle system, as well as the opening movie.

Get the details below.

■ World

Story

Hack it, even if it’s the despair of death.

Mai the “Papa Killer” heads to the cursed city Liz Shoala, where her only hope and younger sister Sanae lives.

Mai decides to live in a shady women’s dormitory called “Wardsworth” to find her sister Sanae. But not only could she not find her, Sanae is being treated as if she never existed.

Using the power of Arata Mizunashi’s PC and her hacking skills, as well as a single USB stick in her pocket, she starts exploring the cursed city.

This was only the beginning of a new “Rondo of Despair”….

Arata Mizunashi, the missing programming genius. The death of over 20 young girls. And everything “is being watched by Barbos.”

Keywords

—Liz Shoara

Liz Shoara is a city located in the mountains and where the story takes place. While it was once a beautiful lakeside city, the emergence of a religious cult has rapidly decreased the population. While it is still a beautiful town at first glance, most of its homes have been abandoned and currently only about 50 families live there.

The town prohibits going out at night. This is because when night falls, the town transforms to take on an ominous, sinister, and grotesque appearance that strikes fear and agony into its visitors. Those who lose their way in this town can do nothing other than flee…

—Wardsworth

At the heart of Liz Shoara is a church, and in the church is a girls’ dormitory called “Wardsworth,” where Mai and many other girls are living. However, a mysterious incident occurs where the girls boarding there disappear one by one. A mysterious phenomenon eventually occurs, and Mai and company get wrapped up in a conspiracy that unfolds inside the city.

—El Strain (Religion)

The religion of El Strain, the faith that people follow in Liz Shoara, is not an obtrusive one, and seems to bring about relief even in times of adversity and hardship. It is also tolerant when it comes to positions in the church, and has no particular gender and marriage restrictions to take up a position.

—Dark Shadows

In addition to monsters, there are strange figures known as “Dark Shadows” in Liz Shoara. Dark Shadows are considered to be a kind of curse that occur when night falls, said to be either the malice of cursed humans or “something not of this world.” These unidentified Dark Shadows that roam the town will persistently pursue Mai and company when spotted. What will happen to Mai and company if they get caught by a Dark Shadow?

■ Characters

Mai Touyama (voiced by Chiwa Saito)

A girl living at the girls’ dormitory in Liz Shoara. Her father went mad and pulled a knife on her, and died in an accident that resulted from Mai’s resistance. Mai, chained to that room and left behind alone, nearly died of starvation, but a city official saved her life and gave her shelter. An investigation confirmed the disappearance of her mother Phyllis, and the orphaned Mai was taken over to the girls’ dormitory. She gives off a quiet and gloomy vibe. Because of the abuse she suffered by her parents as a child, she has put up a wall in her heart. And while she has an extremely high IQ, her knowledge and expressions of emotions lack uniformity as she is mostly uneducated, and she sometimes takes unusual action as a result.

Rotten Dollhart (voiced by Madoka Asahina)

A girl living at the girls’ dormitory in Liz Shoara. Her nickname is Rot. A noble girl with a cheerful and kind personality, she is looked up to by all the other girls at the dormitory. She is caring and full of curiosity, and will poke her head at any mystery she comes across. Her personality is extreme and she is somewhat detached from the real world, sometimes showing a natural airheadedness. She is the type of character who will let anyone into her heart, so she repeatedly attacks and hounds newcomer Mai with all of her might. Soon enough, Mai begins to open up her heart to her and they eventually become close friends.

Liliana Pinnata (voiced by Manaka Iwami)

A girl living at the girls’ dormitory in Liz Shoara. Her father was possessed by a demon and committed suicide, leading her mother to go crazy and abuse her. From the way her father died, she believes “demons are at fault for the way my family turned out,” and in discussing her outlook for the future, tells Mai and the others that, “In the time to come, I will exorcise demons. I would like to join the church and seek the path.” She uses polite language unexpected of someone with her young appearance, speaking as a young lady with a mature and respectful tone. Although she seems to have a wealth of knowledge, she was separated from her parents at a time when she needed plenty of parental love, so she is subconsciously seeking a mother figure.

Shina Ninomya (voiced by Hisako Tojo)

A game designer that once worked for a company called Enigma. After that, she and genius engineer Arata Mizunashi completed the “Alice” game engine and “World’s Odyssey” game. Her memories from the previous game have been explained to her by Arata, and she understands the structure of the world to some extent. Several years after the completion of “World’s Odyssey,” Arata suddenly disappears, and she pursues his whereabouts.

■ System

Battle

—Turn-Based Battles

This game uses a turn-based command battle system. There will be three members in battle, and the order of turns is determined by the speed of each character. At the start of each character’s turn, they are able to move about freely on the field and determine from which direction to attack, so you can choose to perform combos with other characters, or attack from outside the enemy’s range.

—Triact System

The Triact system allows players to take three actions in one turn. Actions include the “Attack,” “Item,” or “Guard” under the “Skill” menu. For example, by choosing “Attack, Guard, Item”, you may attack, guard, and use an item. Through this system, players can enjoy speedy battles with more strategy packed into a single turn.

—Super Knockback

The “Knockback” system from the previous game, which could be used to send enemies flying to deal additional damage, returns as the enhanced “Super Knockback.” By attacking with a skill that has this effect, enemies will fly even further. Determine your attack direction and attack an enemy with a skill that has the Super Knockback effect, and you could blast the enemy into other enemies to deal major damage to several enemies at once.

—Glitch Mode

“Glitch Mode” is an enhancement system provides cheat-class abilities. Each time a Mai and company touch a curse or is attacked, their corruption level increases. If corruption exceeds a certain threshold, characters will transform into “Glitch Mode.” It is easier to activate Glitch Mode this time around compared to the original game, making battles more and more exhilarating. The character’s appearance will change when Glitch Mode is activated.

■ Artwork and Screenshots

■ Information

Product Information

-Title: Death end re;Quest 2

-Platform: PlayStation 4

-Genre: RPG

-Release Date: February 13, 2020

-Price:

Standard Edition: 7,600 yen + tax

Limited Edition: 10,200 yen + tax

Digital Edition: 7,200 yen + tax

-CERO Rating: Pending

Staff

Character Design: Kei Nanameda (Mary Skelter: Nightmares, Trillion: God of Destruction, Mugen Souls series)

Scenario: Makoto Kedouin (Corpse Party)

Theme Song: “Bug Fixer” by Gesshoku Kaigi

Sound: Yuki Sugiura (Trillion: God of Destruction, Hakuoki: Kyoto Winds, Diabolik Lovers)

Concept Art: Yo Shimizu (Arc of Alchemist)

Watch the opening movie below. View the screenshots at the gallery.

[thejeksburyguy]

@duskbg >;3))

"Shut up."

It was soft, so quiet Frankenstein almost didn't hear it. She paused in her long 'speech' of insults and looked over at the target of said verbal assaults. Jekyll had his back to her, head hung low and arms crossed. She could see his fingers digging into the opposite arm on each side. Her mouth twitched into a sneer.

"Really? What, did I hurt your feelings?? Are you going to cry-"

"I SAID SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!"

Frankenstein's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull in shock. Did he just-?

"You've been nothing but rude and callous and- and- and fucking awful since you got here!!" Jekyll continued, now facing her. Tears were quickly gathering in his ruby red eyes, and he kept running his shaking hands through his hair, making it dishevelled. "I worked so. Fucking. Hard. To make this Society, to get the funding, to keep this shit from going up in flames, and what do I get?" He had started to pace while he rambled, the elder scientist unable to get a word in. He reached a side of the room and harshly kicked a large dresser, making the woman jump.

"Everything thrown down the shitter and left to fucking rot!!" He screeched, kicking the dresser a few more times. He staggered back, hands flying up to to his hair. His slender fingers tangled themselves in the curly locks and started pulling. Frankenstein felt her stomach clench at the sight.

"Hey, wait! You idiot, you're going to hurt yourself-"

"Shut up!! Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!!!" Jekyll cried out, tears streaming down his face. He spun around to face her, chest heaving with shaky, rapid breaths. She fell silent, brows tilting with concern at the state of the man. "You don't get to spin this around and act all concerned now, you prick!" As he talked, he gestured wildly with his hands, and Frankenstein dazedly realized this was the most passionate she'd ever seen him.

"This is your fault!!" He shouted, pointing accusingly at her. Frankenstein's worry increased as his breathing picked back up, nearing hyperventilating. "I had e-everything worked out perfectly!! We were gonna get s-s-sponsers, we would have been able to afford to do science, real science, and now nobody has any fucking work done and- and- and i-it's too late, it's too fucking late to start now, we're fucked!!!" His voice wavered and stuttered and broke, eyes filled with fear, and the reality of the situation started to set in. The Society of Arcane Science was doomed, wasn't it? Already scraping the barrel for funds, and now their big moneymaker was shattered into a million tiny pieces.

"I looked up to you so much when I was little," Jekyll choked out, snapping Frankenstein's attention back to him. He wiped at his face, a fruitless endeavour as the tears just kept coming. "All your insults must be true, considering I was such a God damn idiot for that, wasn't I? And I still am. Go ahead, take off with the Lodgers, run away to your... y-your secret laboratories and sheer cliffs." He wasn't shouting anymore, but he was still crying, and his breathing hadn't calmed down any. He stumbled towards the door, tugging at his shirt collar as if it were hard to breath.

"Why did I think I could pull this off? I'm useless... an idiot... all winning smiles and empty promises... the industrialist slut, as you love to remind me every five minutes," He placed a trembling hand on the door, then muttered quietly to himself, "I'm better off dead... it would save everyone so much trouble if I just... m-might have some nightshade left in my office..." Frankenstein felt her heart drop at that, and she opened her mouth to call out to him when he pushed open the door.

Jekyll froze, face going pale and posture stiff at the sight of the shocked Lodgers all crowded around the door. He could feel fresh tears forming and hastily shoved past them, bolting in the direction of his office.

No one went after him.

He slammed the doors behind him and pushed his back against them, sliding to the floor. His eyes were wide and unfocused as he thought about what had just happened, the inevitable fall of the Society, his now most likely ruined reputation. He dug his fingers in his hair again, fisting it up in his hands and pulling harshly, breathing in too rapidly for his heart to keep up.

Unlike the early confrontation, Henry Jekyll's panic attack was dead silent.

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Forever?

               “No, you utter moron.” Draco snarled out in a whisper. “The instructions clearly read to add one bat spleen not two.”

               It took a lot of self-control for Harry to reign in the urge to commit murder. There were too many witnesses and Snape would probably enact revenge before he could even blink. He had thought that maybe after the war things would mellow down between the two of them, but it would seem that arguing was the only familiar action either of them could resort to.

               “If your ginormous head and ego wasn’t in the way, I might have been able to see that.”

               Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously as he wondered if Snape would look the other way if he just dunked Potter’s head in the cauldron. It would have to improve the Gryffindor’s stupidly handsome appearance. Part of him—a small part—didn’t want to fight with the brunette but the rest of him loved the normalcy to it. The simple but yet established argufy.

               “I will have you know that my ego could do with more inflation and my head is proportionate to my body.” The ‘unlike yours’ was left out but Draco felt as if his point had been met.

               That had Harry arching a lone brow. “If you inflate your ego any more than it already is, I fear what will happen to the rest of us. We will be collateral damage to your impending disaster.”

               “Salazar, I swear if you don’t start improving our potion instead of standing around like the gaping fool that you are, I will—”

               “You’ll what?” Harry interrupted, folding his arms across his chest and glaring angrily.

               “Potter, quit talking and actually participate in today’s potion.” Snape’s voice rang out, catching the rest of the class’ attention.

               Before Harry could point out that Malfoy had been talking too, the man continued with a smirk. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”

               For a brief—nearly minuscule—moment, Harry thought about telling the man exactly what he thought of his unfair treatment, but common sense kicked in and he wisely kept his mouth shut. He had also thought that the man would improve after nearly dying but of course that was just asking too much.

               It wasn’t until Snape turned around that Harry looked back to the potion. He pointedly ignored Malfoy’s smug smirk.

               “Karma; such a beautiful thing.” Draco whispered, loving the way the brunette clenched his jaw angrily. Merlin, he never felt more alive than when he was baiting Potter.

               “I fucking hate you.” Harry whispered back, shaking his head firmly when the smirk widened. He was too distracted by the Slytherin’s pretentious but perfect teeth that it wasn’t until the cauldron emitted a horrible smell that he knew a mistake had been made.

               “I deserve an Order of Merlin for having to deal with you.” Draco growled as he shoved the other boy to the side and began trying to fix whatever the idiot just did.

               “Hey!”

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

               Ron looked to the ceiling briefly as the arguing increased and a headache was beginning to form behind his eyes. “I can’t take much more of this.” Harry was his best friend and a part of his family, but he couldn’t’ take the fights, the sneering, the insults or the obvious stalking that was happening with Malfoy.

               Blaise, who was working as Weasley’s partner for the day snorted loudly. “You and me both. If I have to hear Draco talk about Potter and his ‘stupidly handsome face’ one more time, I am going to transfigure him into a bug and squish him. It would be a painful death but satisfying for me nonetheless.”

               “Well.” Ron began, alarmed and definitely wary of the other boy as he scooted to the side a couple inches. “Harry talks about Malfoy too. Quite a lot actually.” He didn’t bother to mention that it was in regard to ‘suspicious’ activity. But there was only so many times that Ron could believe that Malfoy doing absolutely nothing by himself was suspicious. Harry’s excuses were weak at best. A pattern was forming and he knew that Harry was blind to the reality of the situation.

               “Really, now?” Blaise leaned forward, ignoring their potion for a moment. This was far more important. “They say there is a thin line between love and hate.”

               “Who says that?” Ron wondered curiously as he checked the board before stirring counterclockwise. “Sounds like they don’t know the real definition of love.”

               Blaise rolled his eyes. “I heard a muggleborn say it. So, your guess is as good as mine.” He paused to make sure the redhead was following the instructions correctly. “But what I am trying to say is that perhaps these two don’t really hate each other. Sexual tension is a great definition as well.”

               The statement had Ron choking slightly as he barely avoided jerking the entire cauldron. He turned to face Zabini directly, ignoring the amusement in the Slytherin’s eyes.

               Ron’s first instinct was to vehemently deny this altogether but the more he thought about it, the more it was beginning to make sense. “What about when they were younger? That wasn’t sexual tension.”

               “Does it look like I am an expert on the behavior of two idiots in love?” Blaise countered raising his hands. “I am offering you my opinion as a third-party observer.”

               “Hmm.” Ron hummed in thought as he watched Zabini add in a few rat tails for their potion. It wasn’t until the Slytherin reached forward to stir, that he covered a surprisingly warm hand with his own. “The instructions said to wait for the tails to dissolve before you stir it.”

               Blaise looked down at Weasley’s hand, surprised by the contact but not perturbed by it either. “Well, you are turning out to be an excellent potion’s partner.” He watched the way a bright red hue stained Weasley’s cheeks in slight fascination. This wasn’t the first time they had been forced to partner but it was the first time they had done so with such familiarity.

               The praise wasn’t something Ron knew what to do with. People didn’t praise him often. If ever. “Thanks?”

               It sounded more like a question than anything, but Blaise found it endearing. Which was an unsettling realization. Weasley shouldn’t be able to shake his foundation, not after carefully building it up over the years.

               “Perhaps they aren’t the only ones who could benefit from being paired together?” Blaise mumbled just to see the flush spread. There was truth to his statement which was still unsettling.

               Ron looked down at his hands, just to realize that his own was still covering Zabini’s. He slowly pulled it away as he felt his face heat up. He wasn’t sure what to make of the flirting. Romance was so far from his capabilities that is was laughable. For the longest time, he had always thought that Hermione would be his forever, but they weren’t compatible. Not in the way that mattered. Not in the way that he had hoped they would be. Love isn’t always enough.

               “You tell me.” Ron retorted, meeting warm but surprised brown eyes. Perhaps if this had been before the war, he might have fought or even disagreed. But things were different, he was different, and this was something that he wanted to explore.

               “You are just full of surprises.” Blaise whispered, unsure of how to proceed. Weasley was intriguing him in ways that he had never experienced before.

               A throat clearing had them both jumping. They turned as one to see Snape peering at them with furrowed brows. “Pay attention to your potion.”

               There was suspicion his tone, as if he wasn’t sure what was happening between them, but he said nothing more as a billowing of a cloak showed his departure from their table.

               “If you elbow me one more time with your bony sticks of a limb, I will stab you with this flobber worm.” Harry’s voice floated over, causing Ron and Blaise to sigh heavily.

               “Oi!” Draco cried out indignantly. “I will have you know—”

               “We have to do something.” Blaise spoke up, tuning out the renewed arguing. “I am going to murder him if this continues much longer.”

               “I’m waiting for when that was supposed to have been a bad thing.”

               It took a moment for Blaise to realize that Weasley was teasing him. He couldn’t help the small smile that quirked at the corner of his lips.

               “I can’t exactly propose an outing with you if I get thrown into Azkaban for murder.”

               “An outing?” Ron stirred the potion once more, wincing when he realized that he had gone counter clock wise when he shouldn’t have. “Is this a trip to the courtyard? Because that’s pretty vague.”

               Blaise took over the stirring as he attempted to fix their potion. “I was thinking more along the lines of Rome. My mother has a summer house there and perhaps a date would be a better descriptor.”

               Rome. Ron blinked rapidly as he tried not to become flustered. A small part of his brain wanted to tell Zabini that he didn’t need to try and impress him, but a larger part of his brain was adamantly quashing the objection. Because he really wanted to go to Rome with the Slytherin. Screw the courtyard.

               “Alright.” Ron whispered, peering at the other boy. “I’ll go on an outing with you, if we can figure out how to stop them.” He gestured to where Harry and Malfoy were still arguing, only now in whispers and grunts.

               A fluttering of Blaise’s heart had him trying to stop from showing his pleasure at the agreement of a date. Potions was turning out to be his favorite class.

               Before Blaise could suggest anything, someone yelled loud enough to have everyone freezing all movement.

               “No!” Snape called out loudly, causing Harry to jump and the bottle in his hands dropped into the cauldron.

               Blaise grabbed Weasley and ducked under the table in time to avoid a giant explosion.

               Screams, smoke and Snape’s voice was the first thing that either of them registered before they scrambled up to check on their friends.

               Harry and Draco were sprawled on their backs, feet the only thing visible as their bodies were underneath the table.

               “Potter! Malfoy!” Snape barked out menacingly.

               The sounds of frantic whispers could be heard as neither Harry nor Draco responded to their names.

               “Potter get out here and explain exactly what you just did!” There was a dangerous quality to the man’s voice and it had Ron wanting to back away and never come back. Harry was grown, this was all on him. It wasn’t his potion after all.

               “Hey!” A tiny voice squeaked out angrily before a small child crawled out from under the table. “Don’t yell at him. It was an accident.”

               Blaise dropped his mouth open in horror as he realized that this was Draco. He would recognize his friend anywhere. Draco couldn’t be more than five. If that.

               Little Draco was pulling an equally small child that was obviously Potter, out from under the table as well. Blaise clutched Weasley tightly as he felt his mind go blank.

               Ron blinked rapidly as he looked to a little boy with a mop of messy hair and glasses too big for his face. His friend was tiny. So tiny. The Gryffindor robes were massive on the child that was now Harry. He almost didn’t want to know what had happened but one look into scared green eyes vanished that thought process.

               Harry trembled a little as he looked around the room and wondered where he was and why he was here. Usually dreams weren’t this vivid. The last thing he remembered, Aunt Petunia had sent him to his cupboard without dinner for not adding seasoning to their chicken. He tried explaining that he couldn’t reach the spices, even with the chair, but no one cared.

               Draco wasn’t sure why he was in Uncle Severus’ work but he didn’t like the tone of voice from him. Nor did he like that his godfather was making his new friend scared. He wrapped an arm around his friend and glared at Uncle Sev.

               “Be nice.” Draco chided, his other hand coming to his hip.

               Someone choked in the background and it took Ron a moment to realize that it was Neville. He too realized the irony of the choice of words.

               “I don’t get paid enough for this.” Severus whispered before turning to the rest of the room. “Class is dismissed. I want a three-foot essay on today’s potion done by the end of the week. You will all redo this potion next class.” He waited until most of the class left before sighing at the sight of Zabini and Weasley.

               “I suppose you can come with me to see Madam Pompfrey.”

               Harry and Draco inched closer when the three of them turned to the both of them expectantly.

               “I don’t have all day.” Severus drawled, gesturing them forward.

               Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and they both shot suspicious eyes towards the rest of the group.

               “I’m Draco Malfoy.” The whisper wasn’t as quiet as he hoped it would be and it was heard by the rest as they made their way out of the room and down the hall.

               “It’s nice to meet you, Draco.” Harry whispered back just as loudly but also shyly, eyes roaming the halls and looking at the paintings with pinched brows. “I’m Harry Potter.”

               A small gasp had Harry peering back at his friend. 

              “Really? Dobby read me books about you! But you are prettier than I imagined.”

               “You read about me?” Harry wasn’t sure what to think of that. Why would he be in any books? “You think I’m pretty?”

               Draco nodded firmly, tightening his hold on Harry’s hand. “I can’t believe my first friend is Harry Potter!”

               “Friend.” Harry whispered, testing the word on his tongue. “I’ve never had a friend before. Dudley says I’m not allowed to have friends.”

               “Cousin.” Ron mouthed to Blaise when the boy looked at him curiously. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Snape had turned to him as well.

               “Well Dudley can lay in a field of Devil’s Snare.” Draco retorted, clenching his free hand tightly. “I say you are allowed to have friends. And my word means a lot, ‘cus I’m important.”

               “Does it?” Harry wondered if that meant that Draco was royalty.

               “Uh huh.” The nod Draco released had his hair falling forward. “My father says that being a Malfoy is the only good thing I am. But he also said that Malfoy’s are the best, so it must be a good thing.”

               It didn’t sound like a compliment to Harry but he didn’t want to tell his only friend that. He moved closer to Draco, not wanting to be by the adults. They couldn’t be trusted.

               “Don’t worry.” Draco whispered, turning his head towards Harry’s ear. “I’ll protect you.”

               There was fierceness to Draco’s tone and it was welcoming, warm and promised safety. Harry wasn’t one to trust other people but every fiber of his being told him that Draco meant it.

               “I’ll protect you too.” Harry vowed, wondering if he could actually do that. He wasn’t sure how to fight but he was good at hiding! Perhaps that could count?

               Draco looked down at the ground as his face heated up. Usually only Dobby was the one who bothered to be around him and that was because he was ordered to. “We’ll protect each other.” He offered softly.

               “Like a team?”

               “Yeah!” Draco nearly yelled in excitement. “A team! Me and you forever!”

               “Forever?” Harry asked, eyes roaming his new friend’s face.

               “I like that.” He whispered when Draco nodded quickly.

              Harry wouldn’t mind having Draco forever.

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

I’m supposed to be working on a chapter for a story but this has been in my head for a while. I will write more to this soon! 

[nummero123]

Forecasts for Digital Marketing in 2022 and Future

The digital marketing landscape develops so rapidly that it's nearly hard to predict what the future of digital marketing may hold in terms of potential.

We've seen new technologies, a social media backlash of sorts, and influencer marketing mature from its early days as a legitimate and strong marketing channel in its own right during the last year or so.

What are the most important content marketing trends in my opinion for 2022 and beyond?

Marketing Predictions for 2022

There are three significant developments in the digital marketing/g sector that I believe everyone will be discussing.

The first is the revival of Content Marketing as the primary marketing strategy for firms.

Before the epidemic, startup entrepreneurs and B2B SaaS marketers might contemplate purchasing social media advertisements to help their businesses expand.

They are now focusing much more on content marketing.

Why?

Because Google stated that content marketing is the most effective approach to rank for buyer searches.

According to the Content Marketing Institute, more than two-thirds of marketers want to increase their content marketing spending in 2022, with one-fifth planning to increase by double digits.

AI-generated content is the second bug trend.

We will begin to see the value of an AI-powered content marketing approach.

If 60-70 percent of the material we generate is never used, AI will compel us to reassess what we create and why.

You may not be aware that for more than two years, media such as the Washington Post and others have been employing AI to produce templated content (think sports scores and highlights or crime stories).

We examined a couple of these services and found none that can write excellent blog material or long-form articles to anywhere near the degree of quality necessary to rank for search or respond to technical or professional thought leadership needs.

However, that future may not be far away.

The third most significant trend is employee activation.

AI will tell us what to produce, but our best storytellers are our current employees from across the organization.

Every organization needs a plan to engage these people as both content creators and the most effective distribution route for that material.

This is what I like to refer to as The AI Paradox: the more robots tell us what to do, the more we will need our internal specialists to generate and disseminate that information.

We're quite certain of a couple of things.

For the time being, content marketing isn't going away.

But what additional digital marketing trends may we expect to see as we approach 2022?

Everything is powered by voice.

Smart speakers and "assistants" have been around for a while, but they truly took off in 2017 and 2018, as consumers shed their fear of talking to their phones and a slew of new consumer gadgets, such as Amazon Alexa and Google Home, hit the market.

There's no reason for this mobile trend to slow off, and this hands-free technology will become an increasingly common way for people to engage with their gadgets.

Voice search is thought to fuel more than half of all search inquiries.

With the increase of voice search enabled smart gadgets, there will be additional options to promote to the individuals who possess them.

Amazon saw this possibility when it began providing cheaper Kindle devices in return for consenting to receive marketing emails.

Targeted Alexa advertisements are already in the works, and additional gadgets will undoubtedly follow.

Marketing and Support Technology Powered by AI

For a long time, artificial intelligence has been extending what's possible in the realm of digital marketing, but in the next years, we'll witness exponential jumps in what this technology is capable of.

Chatbots will become a customer care standard and will increasingly replace live operators as machine learning algorithms get more powerful and can mimic humans with almost eerie precision.

Marketing is becoming more conversational and individualized, and chatbots allow you to capitalize on this trend without putting additional load on your staff or resources.

Advertising is also utilising artificial intelligence.

While it hasn't yet attained human-level creativity, Google is now running AI-powered advertisements to improve campaigns by finding the best-performing ad styles and language and automatically updating based on user interaction.

Social Media's Future

You may believe that social media is already ubiquitous, but it still has room to expand.

While the future of social media may be something, well, more social, the expansion of these platforms is unlikely to slow anytime soon.

Social media will continue to infiltrate every aspect of our lives and become genuinely integrated with both online and offline services.

In an episode of the dystopian Netflix series Black Mirror, social networking has overflowed into the real world,

with people evaluating their interactions with others and being rewarded better housing, employment, and social standing depending on their total rating.

Is it science fiction?

Maybe for the time being, but the future isn't that far away.

Most of your phone's applications are undoubtedly already exchanging data with your social media networks, and it's already standard practice for employers and recruiters to scan social media accounts before interviews.

So, what does this imply for marketers?

As the AI algorithms employed in social media get more complex, there will be a better knowledge of each client as a person, as well as the ability to give more targeted offers and services.

Micro-influencer Marketing Is Taking Off

Influencer marketing has already increased in popularity in recent years,

with top influencers on platforms such as Instagram and YouTube acquiring millions of followers and earning six figures from brand partnerships.

However, influencer marketing is still in its infancy, and while it promises a higher ROI than more traditional advertising channels, there are still kinks to work out.

Fake followers are a contemporary issue that is still being addressed, and there have been some prominent instances when brand/influencer connections have backfired negatively.

Big-name influencers are also losing power as they accept more and more sponsored postings, decreasing the credibility and effectiveness of their recommendations.

As consumers continue to value personal recommendations over being marketed to, it will make sense to spend more on "micro-influencers" — those social media users with a tiny but loyal following who can offer authentic marketing messages to a trusted audience.

The strength of influencers will be judged not by the number of followers they have, but by their interactions with each follower.

Augmented Reality Is Becoming More Common

Remember the Pokémon Go mania that swept the world in 2016?

The smartphone game was not only a brilliant illustration of how augmented reality can be applied in video games, but it was also a marketing opportunity, as companies leaped at the chance to offer to consumers who were attempting to capture a Pokémon or two on their doorstep.

Augmented reality is more than simply a game-playing gimmick.

It is increasingly being utilized as a tool for marketers to reach out to customers.

Ikea now has a virtual reality catalog where you can place furniture in your own house, and fashion firms are beginning to embrace augmented reality to allow their consumers to virtually try on items in the comfort of their own homes.

Expect to see more firms hop on the augmented reality bandwagon, with the technology gradually becoming more mainstream with genuine marketing aims, rather than a nice novelty.

Expect to see more firms join on the augmented reality bandwagon, with the technology gradually becoming more mainstream with legitimate marketing aims, rather than a charming gimmick.

Video has surpassed all other digital channels.

For years, astute marketers have understood the importance of online video - in 2015, The Washington Post forecasted that video will account for 80% of all online content by 2020.

We're not quite there yet, but a video is already proving to be a strong medium, with live streaming video, in particular, seeing a significant increase in the last year or two.

Video marketing can be extremely successful at increasing engagement levels, and consumer demand for video shows no signs of abating —

YouTube has already surpassed Facebook as the second-most visited site (Google is number one, naturally).

You're already behind if you haven't properly embraced video in your brand promotion, but it's not too late to catch up.

Exciting things are becoming feasible with the mix of live video and augmented reality, and unique and creative videos are set to be the main content channel winner as we approach 2019.

Employee Activation: Getting Back to Basics

Of course, technological advancements are wonderful, but we must not lose sight of the fundamental concepts that define a great marketing plan and a great company.

Employee activation will help your firm to get the most out of every employee,

who will act as brand ambassadors and drive sales and conversions in a more authentic way than any advertising campaign could ever be.

This is, in my opinion, the most important B2B marketing trend right now!

Referencing the micro-influencer marketing trend, when your staff is engaged, they will function as micro-influencers for your brand.

If you are successful in hiring employees who align with your brand values and assist their enthusiasm for what you're trying to do develop,

they will behave like your most ardent supporters.

As our reliance on technology rises, more and more firms see the need to be more "human," and to engage workers' storytelling and organic sharing capacity —

this is the "paradox of AI," as people learn to coexist with robots in this brave new world of opportunity.

Conclusion

If they want to achieve excellent outcomes in 2022, they must continue to look for new trends.

Along with this, businesses should research other brands in their field and attempt several prospective marketing methods.

Businesses who invest in transforming their digital presence and strategy will build a strong foundation for themselves against future crises

while also better responding to consumers' requirements as the situation necessitates.

You may contact Nummero for the best Internet Marketing Services; we are the leading agency in Bangalore.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ABOUT SOMETHING

I may later scale token probabilities substantially, but this tiny amount of scaling at least ensures that tokens get sorted the right way. Another project I heard about after the Slashdot article was Bill Yerazunis' CRM114. I realize startups are not the main target of those who want to get real work done. A competing product, a job. All the search engines are trying to compete with large, aggressive companies in an area they themselves have declared passe? Oddly enough, it won't pay for spammers to spoof: just add a big chunk of random text to counterbalance the spam terms. I would give about writing essays, it would probably be painless though annoying to lose $15,000. The Internet is changing that. They may be enough to kill all the opt-in lists.

The definition then spread to people who behaved like assholes in forums, whether intentionally or not. I have made myself a slave to defend it. The definition then spread to people who behaved like assholes in forums, whether intentionally or not. How could they go ahead with the deal flow, as they call it, will increase rapidly in both quality and quantity. Tranched deals are an abuse. But I think the most important difference is probably that they ignored message headers. Though the way that happens won't necessarily be that the behavior of existing investors will change; it may instead be that they'll be replaced by other investors with different behavior—that investors who understand startups well enough to take on the hard problem of predicting their trajectory will tend to displace suits whose skills lie more in raising money from LPs. B the subject of writing now tends to be particularly bad in forums related to computers, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. They're hard to filter based just on the headers, no matter what they say in the body has a spam probability for free with seven exclamation points, even though you know that free with just two exclamation points has a probability of. One minor abuse that will get corrected in the process is option pools. If it's not what you want to start a startup. We didn't need this software ourselves.

But not because I wanted to make enough from a startup to fix upon a specific number. Questions aren't enough. 76% will be reduced to 4. Spams tend to have more sentences in imperative mood, and in those the first word is a verb. Well, one reason it's bad in practice is that other countries might not agree to slow down with us. I consider terminal exclamation points, even though you know that free with just two exclamation points has a probability of. VCs.

This one squeaked by with a probability of 99. I've had a few, I'm relieved to find they're not as bad as I feared. Technical tweaks may also help. Investors may end up with less stock per startup, but startups will probably do better with founders more in control, and there will almost certainly be more of them. I tend to think it's the idea I'd want to be thinking about, you may want to change something. Not counting these, I've had a total of five false positives are my bug list. Till you feel comfortable investing, don't invest more than that per startup. Bulgaria, we could all probably move on to working on something else. Bad as things look now, there is nothing in spam-of-the-future must be low, or everyone would be doing it.

05/1. An easy job from which one can't be fired is worth money; exchanging the two is one of the defining qualities of an asshole. The startup may not have to be able to find statistical differences between these and my real mail. Without the prospect of rewards proportionate to the risk, founders will not invest their time in a startup, the other alternative was to get a nice, low-stress job at a big research lab, or tenure at a university. Interfaces, as Geoffrey James has said, should follow the principle of least astonishment. Log everything. But the founders contribute ideas. Better or worse, it's happening. But this approach is hard to implement.

The things I've written just for myself are no good. Wouldn't that at least decrease inequality? You may be thinking, how hard could that be? So when investors stop trying to squeeze a little more out of their existing deals, they'll find they're net ahead, because so many more new deals appear. It meant one could expect future high paying jobs. I conclude with a few vague questions and then drift off to get a penny till the company is good. Still more dangerously, when you destroy startups, they make very little noise. Gradualness is very powerful.

Thanks to Ron Conway, Jessica Livingston, Emmett Shear, Jeff Clavier, Sam Altman, and Geoff Ralston for inviting me to speak.