#(so they had to make do translating this song to Hebrew yEAH) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

captainkippen · 5 years ago

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idk if you're still taking prompts but, TJ as a tattoo artist and Cyrus getting his first tattoo. i love your writing so much, my friend and i just spent an hour talking about how much we love 1986 and best laid plans kskskskss

This ask is literally like over a year old, I’m so sorry. Thank you for your kind words about my fic though!

The Sun Sets Of Itself

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Cyrus said, peering into the studio.

Behind him, Buffy and Andi shared an unimpressed look. They’d been through this entire song and dance at least three times since they got on the bus to get to the shop, and that had been after the several months of Cyrus going back and forth on whether it was a good idea or not.

“Dude, if you don’t want to do it you don’t have to,” Buffy sighed.

Cyrus worried at his lip for a moment, eyes flicking up to the intricately painted lettering.

‘DARKSIDE TATTOOS.’

The studio had a five-star rating on Google. Its reviews all said the shop was clean, the staff polite and the artwork itself was of excellent quality. Cyrus had spent weeks pouring over their Instagram, checking out the individual artists and stressing out about the exact wording of his booking email. It was perfect.

“But I do want to,” he said.

The girls groaned. Andi looked heavenward with an expression on her face that said Cyrus might die by her hand if he didn’t walk through that door in the next ten minutes.

“Look,” she said. “Like Buffy said, you don’t have to, but you know if you don’t you’ll end up regretting it. This was your idea dude.”

It was true. He had wanted it badly enough that he’d gone to his Rabbi to talk through it. The idea had been sitting in his head since he was thirteen; a rose for his Bubbe, just over his heart, with her favourite phrase written underneath in Hebrew.

“Okay,” he said, bracing himself with a deep breath. “Okay.”

A small bell tinkled overhead when he pushed the door open and within an instant, a blonde head popped up from behind the desk at the front. The girl raised an eyebrow at the three of them and zeroed in on Cyrus.

“Cyrus Goodman?” She asked.

He nodded mutely.

“Awesome! Okay, I just need you to sign these forms for me before you can get started. Do you have your I.D on you?”

He pulled his driver’s license out from his pocket and handed it over, taking the clipboard of papers from her as she checked it over. After seeming to decide that he was not, in fact, lying about his age, she turned and bellowed towards the back of the studio.

“TJ! YOUR TEN THIRTY’S HERE!” She then turned back to him, smiling sweetly. “You can take a seat over there. He’ll just be a minute.”

Cyrus spent the next ten minutes sitting with Buffy and Andi on a small rustic bench, bouncing his leg restlessly and taking in the artwork that filled the walls. It was obvious that each wall was dedicated to a different artist, the styles all unique and eye-catching in their own way. There was a small collection of framed watercolour pieces above Andi’s head that had captured her interest and, across from them, several traditional pin-up pieces were displayed. The longer they sat the more tattoos Cyrus wanted, but the more terrified he got at the same time.

“What if this is a mistake?” He whispered to Buffy. His attempts at subtlety were lost, though. From where she was filing her nails at her desk, the blonde girl looked up and smirked. She was quite scary, actually.

“You’re overthinking it again,” Buffy hissed back.

He sighed. She was right. What he needed was a distraction. Maybe he should’ve brought his knitting with him. He still had a sleeve to go on the sweater he was making for Bex, after all.

Just as he was pondering how well knitting might have distracted him from the thought of permanently etching a piece of art onto his chest, a rather different distraction showed up.

“Cyrus Goodman?” Came a voice.

When he looked up, his jaw dropped. Standing there waiting was the prettiest guy Cyrus had ever seen. He looked like he’d walked straight off the cover of an alt-rock magazine. Tattoos covered his arms and neck and his hair was carefully shaved into a sharp undercut. He even had the gauges in his ears that Jonah was always saying he wished his mom would let him get. Beneath the fluorescent lighting, his green eyes seemed to glitter. Cyrus was aghast.

“Catching flies there, Cy,” Andi murmured, and he snapped his mouth shut.

“I’m TJ,” Tall, Punk and Gorgeous said, offering Cyrus a hand. “You ready to go?”

When Cyrus had finally gotten himself together enough to greet TJ properly, he’d followed him to his section in the back.

“Are your friends coming?” TJ asked.

Buffy had interjected quickly enough with her, “It’s cool, we’ll wait here.” And Cyrus wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not. On the one hand, he didn’t need to embarrass himself in front of all three of them, but on the other… he kind of wanted someone there to tell him to stop being a weenie when the needle started up.

TJ smiled at him all the way through agreeing on the design he’d drawn up, Cyrus taking off his shirt and getting the near purple outline copied onto his chest. Cyrus thought he might vibrate out of his own skin.

“I’m glad you messaged me for this,” TJ said as he prepared the ink.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I really like doing flowers, especially when customers let me do the whole design. They always turn out exactly how I pictured them.”

Cyrus laughed nervously. “That’s good. I really like what you came up with - the gold detail on the petals was a nice touch.”

TJ grinned as he pulled out the gun.

“You ready?”

No.

“Sure,” Cyrus squeaked.

“Tell me if you want a break.”

The pain wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. After a moment he even found himself relaxing. For some reason, he’d assumed that it would be a silent encounter, but TJ chattered on as he worked. He asked about Cyrus’ degree, getting excited when he mentioned film and going on a tangent about Fight Club. For a brief moment, Cyrus was worried he was about to reveal himself to be one of those men who called other people ‘snowflakes’ unironically, then found himself surprised and delighted when TJ started talking about the inherent homoeroticism of Tyler Durden’s character. After a while, Cyrus found himself chatting back just as happily. He hadn’t expected the two of them to have so much to talk about.

“So, what does it mean?” Asked TJ, after finishing up a long-winded rant about the coffee he’d spilt all over Amber - his sister and the girl at the front desk apparently - earlier that week on one particularly bad morning.

“Huh?”

“'The sun sets on its own.’ Is that right? I ran the words through a translator, but the internet screws it up sometimes.”

Cyrus smiled, trying to glance down at the tattoo without moving too much. TJ had just started on the words.

“Almost,” he said. “It’s ‘the sun sets of itself’. It’s an old proverb from the Talmud. My Bubbe used to say it to it me a lot when I was worried about something. I think she meant it kind of like 'life goes on’, but I don’t know if that’s actually what it means though.”

TJ nodded, smiling back. “That’s pretty cool. Is that why you’re getting this, then? For your Bubbe?”

“Yeah, she died a few years ago but I figured it would be a nice way to honour her. She was really into art.”

“Sounds like a cool lady.”

“She was.”

When they finished up, Cyrus was surprised to find disappointment settling in. Not with the artwork, which looked just as wonderful as he had hoped, but with the fact he had to leave. TJ’s smile and warm manner seemed to be strangely addictive. He wanted to know everything about him.

“Think you’ll be coming back anytime soon?” TJ asked, leaning against the desk as Cyrus handed a wad of bills over to Amber.

“Definitely.”

“Thank God,” TJ said, looking genuinely relieved. “I was worried this would be my only chance to ask you out.”

Cyrus left the studio bright red, grinning and with TJ’s cell number programmed into his phone. Buffy and Andi could tease all they wanted, but getting a tattoo had definitely been a good idea.

#andi mack #tyrus #my writing #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #buffy driscoll #amber kippen #Anonymous

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clumsyclifford · 4 years ago

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hi my love i’m hope not too late but i would like you to tell me about my loves jewish cake, anything you want to but specifically baker calum 🥰 thank you i love you

of course you aren’t too late!!! ESPECIALLY to talk about jewish cake oh my goodness meg i shall die for you i love you. alright let’s see what i can dig up

ha’ahava hazot shelanu + it’s so simple

a cut, per usual

so let’s start WITH:

ha’ahava hazot shelanu

jewish cake was a labor of love for myself. little known fact about me is that i am in fact jewish! :) and around christmas time i always get a little prickly about the surplus of christmas spirit and in this case the amount of fic for it. and i’d sort of had this hesitant idea to write a jewish fic in the back of my mind for a long time, but it felt like a really big divergence from the Cast of Characters that was for some reason a lot more dramatic than any other circumstances into which i could place them, so i’d basically been hesitating for several months. in november we had a brief conversation about it in the club which looked like this

but the idea still made me a little nervous and so i kind of talked myself out of writing it, as always. and THEN, middle of december, iba sent me this 1d fic out of nowhere with this accompanying message:

and i kinda lowkey almost cried!! it was such a jewish fic. i read the word kvetch and i almost lost it. the fic was just so unabashedly jewish. and i was like...well. that’s what ive been wanting to do. so now i have no reason not to do it.

in the ao3 notes i talked a little bit about my internal debate over How Jewish To Go with the fic because on the one hand i really do understand that it can feel alienating going into a fic with zero understanding of the culture but on the other hand since it was MY fic i wanted to make it jewish the way i’m jewish. which is like...............very. i don’t think i ended up striking a balance so much as just deciding to say fuck it and write it the way i would want to read it, but i definitely think that was the right decision for me.

there was actually one more motivator for writing this fic, especially the WAY i wrote it, in eight chapters, and that motivator was that i wanted to break 400k on ao3 before the year ended. i just wanted to have an even number and 400k was a good goal. which i did achieve thanks to jewish cake fic being the 13.6k beast that she is! so that was also part of it

NOW! as for the PROCESS. i created the doc on december 22 and i originally kind of thought it was a little bitchy to write a hanukkah fic after hanukkah had already ended but was reminded that most christmas fic is neither written nor posted on actual christmas which reassured me well enough. i had already had the idea to divide it into eight chapters for the eight nights of hanukkah and i thought that would be a nice way to showcase different aspects of the holiday (seeing family, playing dreidel, opening presents etc) and also in certain cases (like the third chapter where they do some baking) some days that weren’t necessarily hanukkah-driven but just a nice natural consequence of being on break for hanukkah. i wanted it to feel like hanukkah feels to me!! normally i don’t like people seeing the way my outlines look but this one i don’t mind sharing so here’s what i had at the top of the doc for reference while i was writing. not everything in that first list got included but most of it did !!!

i’m not really sure how this fic ended up being cake. i never used to default to cake but for some reason as i was diving into this one it just felt right. that’s all i can say about that. meg you have genuinely shifted my approach to fic i DO default to cake sometimes now and that’s on YOU.

the very first thing i ever wrote down for this fic was this part that ended up going in the summary:

“Happy Hanukkah,” Calum says, smiling at Luke as their fingers intertwine.

Luke murmurs, “Chag sameach, ahovi,” and Calum’s face is aglow in the candlelight.

that was The Moment for me. i didn’t even write the rest of that scene until later but i had those two lines written down straight out the gate and i knew they were gonna close out the first scene because it just Felt Right. and i was right! very cool and fun for me

now the nice convenient thing about having this fic separated into eight discrete scenes/nights/chapters was that i didn’t have to write it in order, and i didn’t. i DID write the first night/chapter first, but then over the course of maybe a week, i wrote (deep breath get ready): the first half of chapter 2 (hemmings family) > the beginning of chapter 5 (the dreidel game) > most of the scene in chapter 7 > the beginning of chapter 3 (where they bake) > finished writing chapters 2 & 3 > started chapter 4 and finished chapter 5 > finished chapter 4 and wrote the rest of chapter 7 > all of chapter 6 > all of chapter 8 aka the proposal. i deliberately saved the proposal for last because i don’t think i could have written it exactly right without knowing the events that came before it but everything else was all over the place as you can see.

a problem i ran into a lot, and i talked to my sounding board and fellow jew sam about this among many other things, was that i had a lot of trouble characterizing very obviously Not Jewish people in a way that made them Very Jewish. not even like, Jewish But You Can Ignore It. i wanted them to be front-and-center jewish like i am and that was hard for me to navigate because obviously my speech patterns and vocabulary as an american jew are extremely different from 5sos’s as australian goyim (non-jews) like i do use hebrew words in my day-to-day communication all the time and i somehow had to keep their mannerisms but also insert mine BUT not insert so many of mine that the fic became incomprehensible and it was just. a Challenge. here’s some insight into THAT crisis

and then again writing the other characters in other chapters

i sent sam the doc when i was mostly done writing it, mainly just to be reminded that at least one person was going to appreciate this fic, which worked out nicely because she very very much did. genuinely i cannot stress enough how insecure i was to write and share this fic. like i’m gonna be really straight up with you meg, i think part of the reason i had calum and luke baking sufganiyot was because to me that felt like a sort of bribe? i basically wrote what felt to me like the least appealing fic ever and then my mission from there was to add stuff in that would convince people to give it a shot anyway. i was trying to make it worth everyone’s while. the baking was my trade-off, i was like “well yeah it’s a jewish fic but maybe she’ll be happy enough that it’s cake and they’re baking that she’ll forgive it for being a jewish fic” yes i realize how kind of hilariously tragic this sounds but !!! you never get jewish fics!!! and you especially don’t get them in fanfiction for obviously non-jewish bands!!! anyway. we’re not gonna get into this whole thing but like. even though objectively i knew that i had been told again and again people would appreciate the fic i still had doubts and knowing something and feeling secure in it are very different things.

also, i didn’t remember this, but apparently i had a lot of problems with writing the proposal! here’s a sneak peek into that mental breakdown

don’t actually think the fic specifies (making life easier for myself) but they have already had dinner in that scene. so now you know.

i could choose to not get this elbows-deep in the details of Crises I Had While Writing This Fic but instead i am choosing to go all out. here’s another thing i had trouble with:

(i did end up using transliteration obviously but i DO think actual hebrew would have been a cool flex)

and as for the title, ha’ahava hazot shelanu is the name of an ivri lider song that i love, and it translates to “this love of ours” and i realize titling the fic in hebrew was a Choice but i did talk to sam about this as well and that went roughly like this

by the way here is the song, i absolutely love it and i cannot recommend it enough. also i’m not sure how glaringly obvious this is but the chapter titles on ao3 are just hebrew numbers. like the first chapter is echad which literally means one. and so on. are they the correct genders? i don’t know ! fuck gendered language.

one more thing and then ill move on but an unfortunate natural consequence of writing a hanukkah fic (at least the way i wrote this one) is that it necessitates presents. so i had to come up with presents for these dumb boys to give each other. and to be completely honest with you i don’t remember how i did!!! the ones calum got for luke were trickier because they were actual things. for some reason this luke was always a version of luke that just kinda like, wore makeup, so that was just a question of figuring out an eyeshadow palette that would be Nice but not obscenely schmancy (i did ask the club for help since i know nothing about makeup but as usual i ignored their replies). but that by itself didn’t feel like enough of a gift, and so i tried to think of something that would be more than just the gift of an object. like, something that would maybe enable luke to spend more time on something he loves. piano music made sense to me because it wasn’t just a thing by itself it was a thing that encouraged luke to play piano and even to improve at it and to learn songs that he could be excited about. so! that was that

the trip to israel gift was a little bit of a retcon situation i really liked the idea that luke had been planning to give that “gift” to calum for a hot sec that he’d have had it ready, but i’d already written the scene where he and mali talk about israel, so i went back to it and edited it a little to hint at the idea (luke plays it off very casually because he is a clever boy) but i thought there was something very romantic in the idea of the israel trip, of luke planning a future with calum and a trip to a place that means so much to him (to me yes maybe luke and i are the same blah blah) and getting to drag calum around to falafel places and teach him words in hebrew and it just seemed like the appropriate trip for these two cute jewish boys to plan so i rolled with it.

okay moving on slightly!! to baker calum <3 baker calum was more of a cameo in the hanukkah fic, in the chapter i wrote with you in mind, but i can talk about it’s so simple here as well because i fucking adore that fic.

it’s so simple

so the inspiration behind the fic came from the “kitchens are for lovers” rhetoric and the realization that that would be the perfect...sort of thesis to build on for a fic for you in specific, because you are, in my mind, a very kitchen-based person, given your baking habit. it actually just worked out pretty nicely for me honestly because i’ve been wanting to write a big Kitchen Romance type fic for a while and you just gave me the perfect opportunity. here’s what i had at the top of the doc for the fic for you

and then once i sort of landed on the idea for the fic, it just made a lot of sense to make it jewish cake because, well, im gonna be real w you, because i identify very strongly with jewish cake and the kitchen-romance aspect felt like a very bella thing in the same way that jewish cake felt like a bella thing. and so i wanted to be able to romanticize these kitchens to share the way that i, bella, feel about them, and that was easy to do when the characters were so similar to me. not to mention this cake already existed in my head as a very settled, domestic duo, and they had their own home and had already had a kitchen-romance scene in the hanukkah fic and the whole thing just fell together perfectly. i had this sentence in my head and it was: “Shabbat in Luke and Calum’s kitchen looks something like this.” the kind of thing you would read in a fic summary right? and especially having it take place on shabbat felt like an extra layer of domestic easy romance to me so that was kind of my guide

here was my "outline” for this:

Romance :)))

obviously calum was going to be the one doing most of the cooking/baking because he had been established as the Kitchen Boy between the two of them and maybe i realized in the course of writing it that while i was luke, you were very much calum. so the goal was then basically to romanticize (1) the kitchen and (2) luke as much as humanly possible for you (see: message sent to helen and ainslee)

unfortunately i was unable to do baker calum justice as much as i would have liked because i could not have him baking anything complex because i can’t bake anything complex and if i had tried to describe him baking something complex and then described it wrong i would have died of shame so that is why he is only baking brownies BUT they have chocolate chips which hopefully makes up for it. also i just stumbled across this which i think pretty well represents the crisis i had regarding baker calum

:)))

re: the soundtrack (so to speak), i wanted to include some songs that i associate with you meg but you see the situation is that some of those songs are 5sos/mali/atl songs and so i couldn’t include those, for obvious reasons, which did narrow down my choices somewhat. fortunately i think the mcfly worked pretty nicely i mean yeah it’s a little obvious that i was forcing mcfly into the story but they deserved to be there. i think i’ve mentioned this but i genuinely have a memory of listening to star girl on a loop in my kitchen at home and in my head the hood-hemmings kitchen looks like my kitchen because i have zero imagination so it felt to me like these songs just belonged in kitchens. and that they’d be inherently romantic. woah i think my brain is short-circuiting i’m not sure i’m making sense anymore. point being i hoped that you would appreciate it nonetheless.

a note about the short introduction, because it’s very unlike anything i’ve put in any other fic to my knowledge. i kind of wanted it to feel like the prologue to a fairytale, almost. i wanted it to feel like the beginning of a movie, when the camera is slowly, slowly zooming in from a Big Picture down to one house on one street and then through the window into the kitchen while the voiceover is very serenely describing the scene. i wanted it to feel like we were in the kitchen before even calum was and that we were standing against the fourth wall watching the fic unfold. and also, i wanted to make the fic romantic as fuck, from the get-go. there was to be no confusion: this fic was going to romanticize the living daylights out of the hood-hemmings kitchen.

(also you may have noticed that despite having “london” in the list of Meg Things at the top of the doc, the fic never actually specifies that they’re in london. that’s because this fic was really an exercise in “how much can i hint that they’re in london without outright saying it so i don’t establish a canon that i may later regret” which went as far as me asking helen what her kitchen floors and counters are made of. like. if you want it to be in london then hell yeah it’s in london but i didn’t wanna lock myself into that decision just in case so i never actually said it but i hope it kinda felt london-y anyway lmao)

so...............i THINK that’s all i have to say. “all” as if i havent just written an entire dissertation but at least it’s done now. i sure did say a lot! that was a lot!!! but also a very very fun and interesting dive into the ~process~ of writing these jewish cake fics. also, for what it’s worth, the way hanukkah fic was received basically calmed all my fears about writing jewish fic, which was a relief for me. so thank you for loving it, i don’t think you know how much that means to me!!!! i love YOU so very much

#kaleidoscopeminds #ask #answered #christ go off i guess????????#i honestly have Nothing to say in the tags because i said so fucking much in this answer #fgldkhgsdflj #here are some other questions i asked helen the resident london expert:#'you guys don't have saturday morning cartoons do you'#'what do you call french toast' to which i was informed that you (brits) don't HAVE french toast #and then i decided to ignore that information and include it anyway because jewish tradition trumps british absence of food #and french toast is jewish CULTURE #'do you guys say suck-up or is there a different thing you say'#i did NOT like the answer to that one #also 'do you guys have dishwashers'#'do you guys do april fools'#helen litearlly went and took a photograph of her counters so that i could see what they looked like. THATS love baby #the fact that i said i had nothign to say and then i continued to say things anyway #thats pretty on brand for me #meg #director's cut #okay im posting this now. FOR REAL #dunno what happened before that was very unsexy but this time for real

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pure-pazaak · 4 years ago

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Some random KOTOR 1 headcanons with Myara Jerrod because why not

Myara used two swords before her Jedi training (then switched to two sabers, green and purple). The first time Bastila sees Myara do the exact. same. move of spinning the hilt over her knuckles that Revan used to do she nearly has a conniption thinking the memory wipe didn’t work. Turns out more of Revan leaked over than her and the Council expected.

Myara has poliosis (a white patch of hair... think Stacy London or Richard Madden). Obviously that would be a huge identifying marker for people who knew what Revan looked like! So what do Bastila and the Council do? Dye it to match the rest of her dark brown hair. Cue around Tatooine/Kashyyyk when Myara comes out of the refresher holding her wet hair going “why am I graying from the bottom up?” Bastila nearly passes out trying to come up with an explanation. Says it must be the Force flowing through her. Myara learns much later that isn’t true!

Ajuur the Hutt was much more into showmanship than the game shows. Every fighter in the Taris dueling ring had a costume/flashy clothes they wore in the ring (ie Ice wore all white, Gerlon had eye-catching gloves that showed off his two fingers, etc). The Mysterious Stranger dressed like a space cowboy. Carth teased Myara relentlessly after each match because of the hat and bandana she wore to hide her face.

Myara trained the most on the Hawk with Mission. It was obvious that she was Force sensitive, but it took until after Myara left for the Unknown Regions for Jolee, Juhani, and Bastila to come together and start training her (when Braya and the “Lost Jedi” reopen the Enclave, Mission and other Jedi go there to begin training).

Once Myara began to remember more of her past after the reveal, she began to remember even more languages she had forgotten. Specifically, a language from Deralia (I still say that’s the planet she was born on) that her parents taught her when she was younger. She begins to research it more and write it out, then gives Carth a book on the language to teach their daughter while Myara is in the Unknown Regions (hint hint it’s Hebrew. Myara is the Star Wars equivalent of Jewish).

Speaking of languages, Myara is essentially a universal translator. It’s the cover used for why she was brought onto the Endar Spire: her language abilities, her planetary knowledge of the Outer Rim, and the fact that she’s a damn good pilot.

Oh yeah, she’s a good pilot. Not to the likes of Carth or Atton or other famous pilots, but she’s definitely talented. Thanks, Force!

Myara likes to sing (it also helps that her FC is a singer, Emmy Rossum). She does it absentmindedly and beneath her breath: when she’s cleaning her weapons, getting ready for bed, cooking, walking through the streets of a city and getting lost in her thoughts, working at a computer, etc. Carth points it out some time on Taris and she gets super embarrassed. Mostly because she never realized but she didn’t realize anyone could hear because she was so quiet. Carth tells her it sounds nice; by the end of K1, everyone on the Ebon Hawk knows the little ditties Myara sings, whether they’re real songs or melodies she made up.

Her planet order is Tatooine --> Kashkyyyk --> Korriban --> Manaan (but I pick up the Kashyyyk star map last).

Yes she romances Carth. First time they kiss is during Kashyyyk when Carth is properly freaking out about Dustil on Korriban and she goes to his quarters to calm him down. First time they sleep together is during Korriban, after Dustil is brought back to the light.

BOY HOWDY IS CARTH MAD AFTER THE LEVIATHAN! IT DOESNT MAKE MYARA FEEL ANY BETTER! 0/10!

But don’t worry they make up later. But there’s a LOT of talking late at night between them regarding feelings and boundaries. I have a scene I’d like to write between them that takes place a night or two after the Leviathan where Myara is laying in her bed (I picture the Hawk’s cabins to be set up differently than how the ship looks in-game. By that point Carth and Myara are sharing quarters) feeling miserable because all of the terrible things Revan did... that was her... and Carth comes in, silently slips into bed with her, and just holds her until she falls asleep. He’s still furious and confused and hurt but he can tell Myara hasn’t been sleeping and just... it’s very emotional 10/10.

To end on a happy note... Myara is the crew mom. Mission literally becomes her daughter (in-law... yes I picture her getting with Dustil). Despite her past, she becomes a good person in the end.

#kotor #kotor 1 #myara jerrod #this is long im sorry lmao

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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One For the Road (Jan x Nicky) - Joley

a/n: this is my submission for the google translate challenge. i translated it to french, because i couldn’t not, and then to hebrew. i included the original and final result

Original

Nicky parked her motorcycle in front of the bar, hooking her helmet around it. She leaned against the rail and fished a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her pockets, lighting one up and taking a drag. She allowed herself to relax, taking her time smoking before dropping it onto the asphalt and putting out with her boot.

The bar she walked into was higher end than the ones she normally stumbled upon on the road, but not so much so that she felt out of place in a leather jacket and torn-up jeans. And it didn’t take long for her to get a bartender’s attention once she sat down – it never did, not with her captivating features, long blonde hair, and toned frame. “Can you make me a cognac sour?”

In a lot of bars, Nicky would get asked for clarification, which she found silly – it was a whiskey sour with cognac instead. But to her relief, this guy seemed competent enough to get it on the first try. “Thanks,” she offered a smile and took a sip. “Live music?” she asked casually, noticing a stage after a bit of looking around.

“Yeah, stick around a few minutes, her set’s about to start.”

Nicky’s curiosity was piqued, and after getting a refill, she meandered over to one of the tables near the stage, sitting down and looking up expectantly.

Jan stepped onto the stage to a cheering audience. She made some casual introductory talk before launching into her first song.

And just like that, Nicky was hooked. She had never been taken in so easily, but Jan’s beautiful appearance and angelic voice was simply irresistible. Sure, she had no obvious reason to believe this woman would ever reciprocate her attraction, but something in her gut told her that it was worth pursuing.

After the set, Nicky spotted Jan at the bar and made her way over to her. “You’ve got such a beautiful voice,” she hummed. “You must be thirsty after all of that, can I buy you a drink?”

To Nicky’s pleasant surprise, Jan seemed relieved by the offer. “Finally, I can’t tell you how many guys I’ve had to politely shoo away. I never get hit on by hot biker girls,” she giggled. “So, yes, vodka sprite, please.”

“You are so cute,” Nicky grinned, propping her elbow on the bar counter and resting her chin on her hand. “Tell me, angel,” she started once Jan got her drink, “what time do you get off? I could give you a ride if you’re up for it.” With her free hand, she gently tucked a piece of Jan’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers trace along her jaw. “You ever been on a motorcycle?”

Jan looked at her with interest. “Can’t say I have. I got another set to do, but after that, we can get out of her.”

Nicky nodded with a grin. “I’ll make sure no man hits on you in the meantime,” she assured.

By the time Nicky had Jan on the back of her bike, her body was hot with anticipation. She didn’t know what it was about this girl, but she had a feeling giving her a ride home was only the beginning of something special.

Post-Translations

Nicky parked the motorcycle in front of the bar and hung his helmet on it. She leaned against the rail and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pockets, lit one and took a breath. She allowed herself to relax, to take time to smoke before dropping it on the asphalt and extinguishing herself in a plague.

The bar she walked into was more upscale than the ones she usually stumbled upon on the road, but not so much that she felt out of place in a leather jacket and ripped jeans. And it didn’t take long for her to grab the bartender’s attention as soon as she sat down - it never did, not with her captivating features, long blond hair and toned figure. “Can you make me a sour cognac?”

In many bars Nicky was asked to make it clear she found it silly - it was more sour whiskey with brandy. But for the sake of it, this guy seems fit enough to get it for the first time. “Thank you,” she offered a smile and sipped. “Live music?” She asked casually and noticed the scene after looking around a bit.

“Yeah, stay a few minutes, his set is about to start.”

Nikki’s curiosity was aroused, and after receiving a refill, she went to one of the tables by the stage, sitting down and looking up hopefully.

Jan took the stage in front of an enthusiastic audience. She gave an informal presentation before starting her first song.

And just like that, Nicky was addicted. She had never been received so easily, but the beautiful sight of Jan and his angelic voice were simply overwhelming. Of course, she had no clear reason to believe that this woman would return the grace to her, but something in her stomach told her that it was worthwhile to continue.

After the filming Nicky spotted Jan at the bar and walked over to her. “You have such a beautiful voice,” she hummed. “You must be thirsty after all this, can I buy you a drink?”

To Nicki’s pleasant surprise, Xian seemed to take the offer lightly. “Well, I can ’t tell you how many guys I should have run away from politely. I’ve never hurt sexy bikers,” she laughs. “So yeah, vodka sprite, please.”

“You’re so cute,” Nicky grinned, resting her elbow on the bar counter and resting her chin on hers. “Tell me, my angel,” she began as soon as Jan drank the drink, “what time are you leaving?” I can drive you if you’re ready. With her free hand she gently tucked a piece of Jan’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers trace along her jaw. “Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”

Jan looked at her with interest. “I can not say I have. I have another set to do, but after that we can get out of it.

Nicky nodded with a smile. "I’m going to make sure no man hits you in the meantime,” she said.

By the time Nicky held Jan in the back of her bike, her body was hot in anticipation. She did not know what it was with this girl, but she felt that taking him home was just the beginning of something special.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #nicky doll #jan x nicky #lesbian au #fic challenge #google translate #joley

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years ago

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02/02/2021 DAB Transcript

Exodus 15:19-17:7, Matthew 22:1-33, Psalms 27:1-6, Proverbs 6:20-26

Today is the 2nd day of February, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is a joy and an honor to be here with you today as…well…we’re taking these steps forward into this new month, so we can move into it comfortably and sail through all the Scriptures have before us. So, it’s good to be here with you as we continue our journey through the month of February. We are reading from the Voice Translation this week, picking up with our story of the children of Israel in the wilderness from the book of Exodus. Just reminding you, yesterday there was a showdown. The enemy was coming against a population of former slaves known as the Hebrews. They were backed up to the Red Sea. There was nowhere to run, and God split the Red Sea and they crossed over. And the…the Army, the Egyptian army was just gonna go through as well, but they didn’t make it. The ocean collapsed over them and that was that. And that's kind of where we find ourselves. They got to the other side of the Red Sea on dry ground and saw what happened to their enemy and then they burst out in song. And, so, we find ourselves on the other side of the Red Sea in a time of celebration and we will continue with that singing and dancing today. Exodus chapter 15 verse 19 through 17 verse 7.

Commentary:

Okay. Let's talk about what we read in the book of Exodus today. So, we are with the children of Israel in the wilderness now and they are freed from slavery in Egypt. And I mean, man, God has invaded Egypt, right, dismantled Egypt and the Israelites essentially pillaged Egypt by requesting silver and gold on their way out. And, so, they pillaged Egypt without even drawing his sword. So, obviously God had been with them. And then He's leading them cloud by day pillar of fire by night. They cross the Red Sea on dry ground and watch the armies of Pharaoh be drowned in that same Red Sea. And then they head out into the deep deep deep desert and they can't find water. And sure, sure that’s a struggle. In fact, that’s a struggle for survival. That's what God was up to. They are in the wilderness, and they are trying to do what they can do to survive in their own strength when God had invited them into a different story, one that was going to shift and change their identity altogether. The only identity and we will…we will touch on this many times because I've already mentioned, we’re in the wilderness part of our journey right now in the Old Testament and we’ll be in the wilderness. And we need to learn the message of the wilderness just like the children of Israel need to learn the lesson of the wilderness because you can't get out of it until you learn. So, let’s learn it. So, here they are wandering around and their thirsty. They've seen God do all the things we just mentioned. So, they have plenty of proof that He is with them that He cares about them and that He is most powerful. And yet here they are, they can’t find water and what do they say, “why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness?” And then they start thinking about slave days, cucumbers, bread, meat in the pot. That's what they had. And, so, they’re lamenting that they don't have those things anymore even though they have their freedom. They would rather give up their freedom for an easier path. You see where this is going friends? Like all we gotta do is understand that the Bible so often is simply a mirror exposing us, like exposing all the things that we are naked and ashamed about, exposing the ways in which we are hiding and pretending.

So, we watch Jesus do this kind of stuff with His words in the New Testament. We’re watching this, these stories become the stories of our lives as well as we pay attention. How many times have we felt freedom, have we felt God rescuing us, that He did rescue us and then things got difficult again or they got even harder quickly? And we would trade freedom for slavery just to have it easy. There’s so many things to think about on so many levels in that that that is where the Bible has led us to today, to invite the Holy Spirit to reveal these ways that we choose slavery over freedom because slavery might be easier, bondage might be easier even though it's going to kill us in the end. When God is saying fight for your freedom and then you will be free. Like, learn to trust me utterly and you will be free. Nothing can touch you after that because nothing can be taken from you. You know who you belong to and you know that He is the most-high God and that for eternity you will be His child, you will be in fellowship with Him. There's nothing that can take that away from you. Until we learn that we just keep making circles in the sand and it's going nowhere. And we’re watching this in the children of Israel's lives but it doesn't take too much effort to see it in our own.

Prayer:

Holy Spirit come. Yeah, it might be easier sometimes to just give up, just settle for whatever, just…just be in bondage because freedom that…that would be too painful, that would be too much of a risk, that would be…that would be too difficult. We'd give up, we’d walk back. We’ve done it so many times. But You are inviting us like, for real into freedom, that we can walk into freedom. Even though it will be supremely difficult we can become free if we will completely and utterly depend upon You. Come Holy Spirit and show us the ways that we’ve put the chains back on our ankles and wrists and that we just keep carrying around bondage for no reason. And the only reason being that we just think it will be too hard to be free. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage, and I thank you, I thank you deeply for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today, I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

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cogneartive · 5 years ago

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The Great Peter Infodump of March 2020

yo @brackets-and-woolly-hats @mijaco-geo and @mike-nesmith-for-mayor I have recently been informed that yall would really like me to infodump about Peter and I want to thank yall because I think if I held it in any longer I would explode

Also thanks to the coolcherrycream articles and various interviews that I learnt all these from in the 5-ish months I’ve been thinking about the monkees for

But before I start going hnngggg Peter I would like to warn you that despite my tone this is going to contain some heavy stuff. We’re talking brief mentions of blood, and suicide and death so be careful about that

This is gonna get hella long so *cracks knuckles* let’s begin

Childhood

let’s start from the very beginning: a very good place to start

Friday, 13th February one bb was born and he would always say that Friday the 13th was a lucky day for years onwards

He was born with a lot of diversity in his parentage

He’s Irish and German-Jewish on his mother’s side and Norwegian on his dad’s side

Speaking of Jewishness (is that a word???) I rememeber an article saying that he used to randomly say Hebrew words in interviews and I think he taught Mike how to say something too?? I dont know

Peter was a very friendly boy even when he was just a toddler cus he would drag any new friend he had home

Anyway, he was born in Washington DC

Once on Christmas he went missing and his mum and grams panicked and looked all over the house for him

Turns out he was just waiting at lampost in the snow because he wanted to make sure that Santa would bring him a present

Speaking of Grams, when he was 3 (i think im doing this from memory) he was at a post office with his mother when she came in.

He got uber excited and shouted “THAT’S MY GRAMS. HER NAME IS CAIT!”

And so everyone turned to look at her and he squealed

He would also often ride on the top part double deck buses and whenever the bus slowed down, he would wave to nearby people and say “HI MY NAME’S PETER WHAT’S YOUR?” to which those people who wave back and sometimes answer him. I mean, wouldn’t you?

Also he started to play with pianos when he was 3 and also he liked dancing so that’s cute

One of his first memories was of being at the hospital where his brother Nick (who they called Nicky and that’s what I’m going to call him) was born

Soon after Nicky was born they moved to Germany Yeet. He was 4 and the time and Nicky was like 18 months or smth

Germany

Right so I dont know why people dont talk about this part of his childhood because like,,,it’s interesting??

In Germany they had two maids

They had to put sugar in every food so that Peter and Nicky would actually eat the strange German food

He became very fluent in German and would help his mother with translations

He was also fluent in French for some reason

Someone made a statue of his 4 year old head and it became a famous minor art piece that featured in calendars

It probably now sits in his house because I saw in in the background of the short documentary that his son, Ivan Ivanoli made about him which you sould check btw

Anyway, when Peter was 5 he made his first official best friend Ule who was two years older than him

Once when he was playing hide and seek with Nicky he ran at full force at a closed glass door that he thought was open, shattering it, and getting a shard into his arm. Reasonably he screamed

Apparently, he was hurt a major artery and would have bled to death if not for someone being in the house to call a doctor

Once he was out and about wandering around, as you would do if you were Peter when he was stopped by some official looking guy from going back into his own house.

It’s important to note that Peter looked very much like a German boy and would ONLY talk in German outside. God knows why he did this. Reasonably, the dude thought he was lying and he had to call for his mum

Anyway, in Germany school starts when you’re five but his birthday was in the middle of the school year so his parents sent him in early which set him up for some outcasted child syndrome later

And then the moved back to America yeet

AMERICA (LAND OF CAPITALISM)

So he moved back into America but it didn’t stop there. No. They had to move around like a 100 different times and as someone who went to a total of 4 different schools (so far oh no) that sets you up with outcasted child syndrome. What also sets you up with outcasted child syndrome is if you’re an undiagnosed neurodivergent which Peter seemed to think he was when he was in his 50s (either ADHD or autism) so uhh keep that in mind

So he was in school and as mentioned earlier he was a year younger than his peers so that’s fun

He was very very clever. Often he would finish his work first and his (4th grade) teacher would make do some reading or creative writing. She encouraged him to do creative writing because she saw some talent in there

Not only was he acadmically gifted, but he was also musically gifted. Playing not only the piano (which he got lessons for) but also the guitar, the banjo, the bass, and the french horn which he got an award for when he was in highschool playing in a band made out of college students for some reason

Speaking of awards, he was once given an award for maths

This giftedness would later set him up for Gifted Child Burnout he had in college

Also he changed schools like a total of 13 times so that’s fun

He went to a private school but apparentl, according to his parents, he hated it (but he remembered liking it???)

Also, he made a lot of jokes in class

Remember Nicky? Yeah, Nicky would often write songs for him to sing and stuff (Nicky would later write songs for Peter’s solo album and a bunch of other stuff what a great brother we stan)

The family had some kind of barn once where he would do puppet shows his siblings

Anyway, school life was all fine and dandy until 5th grade hit and he changed schools and everyone lost interest in him because he was one year younger

Also his dad was apparently very disconnected with him. Needless to say, Peter felt like his father didn’t like him

Once when he was 9, he told his father that he noticed that when the clouds were around at night, it would be warmer during the day to which his father shouted at him saying that “he has no proof of that” and that he shouldn’t say anything without proof

This of course led him to feel like no one wanted to listen to what he wanted to say

poor baby

I think his father would have been the reason why Peter would later say in an interview that he hated “loud abusiveness” the most

He would also later say that a combination of his dad and feeling like he was weird and different would lead him to his drinking problem

So umm we dont stan his dad ok

Once when he was 13 he picked up a loaded shotgun and put it against his head. But he decided that he didn’t want to do it at the last second.

Overall, life from 5th grade till highschool was terrible for him

He didn’t have any friends in his school

So when he moved to a new school in Conneticut where he was surrounded with people of the same age, he was really happy all the way until college where he flunked out twice

Hippie Time (Honestly this part is just me talking about him and Stephen Stills because Steter Stirk changed me)

And so Peter became a hippie in Greenwich Village

In the Village, he became a sort of entertainer. Not just singing and playing, he was also a comedian.

And then he kept hearing about this dude who looked like him from other people.

This dude turned out to be Stephen who was also hearing the same kind of talk for about the same amount of time

Pete and Stephen VIBED im not kidding they started to play with each other and also Stephen’s room mate who was also there

Also it turns out that they liked to talk about the same things so that’s neat

Peter went to Venuzuela apparently and when he came back the Monkee thing happened yeet

Once when Stephen was waiting to move into his new house Peter was all like “hey dude live with me”

For a while they also lived in the same house when he was Monkee and if that doesn’t fuel any ship fics I dont know what will

Im serious the ship is here and its real I saw fics and fanart

Dont ask about Stirk

They played with the colour tv and would “pick apart each other’s brains” umm

Also Peter’s favourite band was buffalo springfield and we stan a friend who would say your band was their favourite band

And I think this is where my knowledge starts to fade because I haven’t really heard any cool facts from here on afterwards

Last Final Cool Facts

He was a teacher for quite a while and taught about Maths, basketball (despite not liking any sport except swimming) and Easter Philosophy,,,yes easter philosphy the man was into that kinda stuff

Also he was a big reader. Always having a smoll book in his pocket that he would read while on set with the Monkees. But he was particularly a non fic kinda guy

He would write poetry on the back of scripts

In the 2000s he said that his sister thought he might have ADD

Also autism but when asked about it he’d be all P E R H A P S

which is very unhelpful Peter pls give us a straight answer

I mean he cant give us straight answers because he was the gayest monkee (he fricked a dude once but he didn’t like it)

Hey look I ended on a gay note yeet. Thanks for reading this mess

#the monkees #peter tork #blood tw #death ment tw #suicide tw #i think that's all the tws #im finally free of this knowlege #i feel so good #just wait till i come back with a truck of knowledge in 5 months

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artemiswinnick · 5 years ago

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Eli’s Coming

I was tagged in a Songfic challenge by @gemini0410 and @vicmackeybullshxt and given Eli’s Coming by Three Dog Night:

https://open.spotify.com/track/29k9SMi3bZi1lhbGBLcpwI?si=RPbxRxUwTpCuQeVBSeZfvw

This song gave me some hella Supernatural vibes and I had a little blurb lying around in my drafts from years ago, so I decided to edit it and extend it inspired by the song. Please don’t ask me how this fits into canon or anything, because I genuinely have no idea. I think I just felt like Dean really needs a hug, ya know?

Warnings: Explicit language, references to violence, taking the lord’s name in vain and twisting around the Old Testament to suit my fictional needs.

The fire blazed higher and suddenly went out. There was a pitch-dark blackness.

“Is that supposed to happen—?” Sam cut off as the flame rose again, burning quietly now, illuminating two girls. Their vessels were a pair of twins—one in a night dress, the other dressed for a night out on the town. They peered at the brothers and the angel expressionless, the infinity in their eyes in stark contrast to the youth of the bodies they inhabited.

“Aladril? Adriel?” Castiel asked, stepping forward.

“You summoned us, Castiel?” They asked in unison, haloed by soft blue flames.

“Well, that’s creepy...” Dean muttered under his breath.

“We need your help,” Castiel ignored him, addressing the twin angels.

“You know that we cannot help you.” The angel in the clubbing outfit replied.

“You should not have woken us.” Said the other, adjusting her white nightgown grumpily before looking at her sister’s get up. “This is the fashion of the time? Either a sack or a prostitute's corset—?”

“What do you mean you can’t help us?” Dean cut in, uninterested in allowing the angels any time to adjust to their vessels. Castiel tried to hold him back but he shook him off and stepped forward. “No, Cas, what was the point in summoning the Bopsy twins if they’re not even going to—?”

“We went to sleep for a reason.” They said loudly, speaking together again. Now, they both looked irritated as they turned to Castiel.

“We know you don’t believe us,” Said the one in the night gown. “But there’s a war brewing and if we stay it will only strengthen their resolve in continuing.”

Cas shook his head. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Adriel, the war has already started, even with the both of you asleep. We’re… We’re losing. We’re desperate. If you don’t help us, it won’t be only the humans that are wiped out but angels as well. That includes you.”

The twins frowned slightly.

“What?” Aladril’s eyebrows knitted together worriedly even as she tugged at her corset top. “... Seriously, what century are we in? Have corsets come back into fashion—?”

“The demons are working on finding a way into heaven. When they do, they’ll find you there and slaughter you along with the rest of the host.” Castiel squared his shoulders and fixed them both with his gaze. “We need your help.”

“Do you expect us to fight alongside you?” Aladril asked slowly.

“As we did when you were but a fledgling, Castiel?” Adriel raised one eyebrow— it was starting to become easier for Sam and Dean to tell the two apart and it wasn’t just the hilarious outfits. Aladril spoke slowly, her expression calm and patient while her words poured like honey into their ears. Adriel, for as soft as her nightgown looked, had a voice that sang like a knife’s edge, her mouth twisting into a smirk as she watched Castiel blush thinking of their first battles. “You were so cute back then, full of such innocent purity…”

“Listen, as much as we’d love to join you all for a trip down memory lane,” Sam finally lost his patience. “But we have… need of your assistance. We’re planning an offensive on the demons in a week--.”

“Absolutely not,” Aladril shook her head. “We don’t harm humans.”

“But they aren’t humans! They’re demons--!” Dean exclaimed.

“In human vessels, much like these,” Adriel looked down at her current form. “Or have you forgotten that-- Castiel what are these two called?”

“That one’s Dean, and the other is Sam,” He quickly clarified.

“Dean,” Adriel turned the blond man’s name over in her mouth like it was venom on her tongue. “Humans have such stupid names…”

“Right, because Adriel and Aladril for a pair of twins isn’t just as stupid or confusing,” He retorted. The flames around the angel burned brighter suddenly.

“How dare you--”

“Are these the archangels you promised us, Cas? Really? Two girls in high school?” Dean shook his head, enjoying the expression of fury on the celestial being’s face.

“Excuse me?” Adriel’s voice grew dangerously low.

“Adriel-“ Aladril tried to hold her back but her sister was incensed. She stepped out of the circle of flames easily, undeterred by the celestial fire. Dean crossed his arms.

“These two girls have been waging holy war since before you were a twinkle in the Creator’s eye, human,” She spit out. “I could kill you with my bare hands, even in this stupid vessel--”

“Adriel!” Aladril cut her off, “We just told them we don’t harm humans!”

“We could always make an exception for this one,” Adriel muttered, but backed off.

“I- We apologize.” Aladril said, shooting a look at Adriel who crossed her arms. “But, like my sister said, we are very old and with age comes experience. We will not be joining you in battle, Castiel. Isn’t there any other way we can help you?”

“I-- Well… Sam, had a question,” Castiel supplied, his face fallen.

“Go ahead,” Aladril motioned for Sam to step forward.

“Well,” He cleared his throat. “We captured one of the demons recently, interrogated him--.”

“Tortured,” Adriel coughed into her fist, getting looks from everyone around the room. She raised an eyebrow at them all. “Let’s call a spade a spade, gentlemen. Continue.”

“We left him securely tied up, all the right incantations in place but he got loose when we were switching shifts guarding him and… well, he decapitated his own vessel so he’d get sent back down to hell,” Sam finished uncomfortably, feeling the angel’s expressions of judgement settling on him.

“... Alright?” Adriel frowned. “I don’t see what--.”

“He drew runes on the wall in Hebrew before he did that in his own blood,” Sam continued. “It translates to… Eli is coming.”

That got their attention. The twins snapped their focus to the tall man with long dark hair.

“What did you say?” Aladril hissed.

“I said Eli’s coming,” Sam repeated. “The demon wrote that on the wall in his own blood—.”

“Yes, yes that Eli is coming…” Adriel stepped forward out of the flames again, peering up into his eyes. “I’m assuming you killed this demon?”

“Uh...Yes?” Dean answered, quizzically looking between the angel and his brother who were locked in a staring match. Her infinite eyes moved to his, an expression of rage and annoyance marring her features.

“Well, fucking wonderful!” She exclaimed.

“Adriel, language!” Her sister admonished.

“Oh, don’t chastise me, Aladril, I think you know the expletive is warranted!” Adriel turned to her sister. “They’ve been cursed and they don’t even know it!”

“Cursed?” Sam frowned.

“Listen lady, we’re pretty familiar with curses, alright?” Dean waved his hand dismissively. “So why don’t you just tell us what we’re dealing with so we can grab the eye of newt and a root of cabbage or whatever the fuck we need to break it—.”

Adriel spun around on him, the flames bursting up and making him stumble back away from her.

“What you need is the blood of the demon that cursed you!”

“Well, fuck…” Sam cursed quietly. Dean’ nostrils flared as he crossed his arms.

“You mean… but the Book of Samuels was always considered to be an exaggeration—,” Castiel stuttered, an uncharacteristic sight. Aladril looked to him with sympathy.

“Unfortunately, it’s quite the contrary… The actual curse of Eli was much more powerful than the story Metatron fed the prophet.”

“But why would he lie? It’s— it’s in the old testament! The humans have been telling themselves this story for thousands of years—!”

“It cast a bad light on God’s everlasting wisdom and judgment?” Adriel shrugged. “We tried telling you even some in the host could not be trusted—.”

“Do you all want to sign each other’s yearbooks or something?” Dean exclaimed. “Or can we do that after you help us lift the curse?”

Adriel crossed her arms and looked to her sister.

“I say we let them die. This one’s annoying.”

“Adriel!” Her sister exclaimed.

“Die?” Sam choked out. “What the hell is the curse of Eli, exactly?”

“Well, the family-friendly version was written in the book of Samuels,” Aladril began. “Eli was the high-priest of the Hebrews, he and his family were cursed to never live to an old age due to the misdeeds of his sons...”

“Misdeeds like… cheating at poker?” Dean prompted, earning an elbow from Sam..

“Misdeeds like taking prime cuts of meat from temple offerings and committing adultery with the women who served at the sanctuary entrance,” Adriel replied dryly.

“Right, those kinds of misdeeds…” Dean rolled his eyes. “So we’re supposed to freak out because we won’t live to an old age? I wasn’t expecting to do that either way…

“But you said that was the family friendly version…” Sam brought up, looking to the angels.

“Yes, well… one of Eli’s sons tried to break the curse by bargaining with a demon,” Aladril revealed. “Who, in, the guise of helping him, actually amplified the curse. Now it wouldn’t just kill Eli and his sons— it would damn them for eternity. In hell with Lucifer.”

“Oh… Oh, shit,” Sam rubbed at his face. “I know where this is going—.”

“But… how long do we have before it takes… effect?” Castiel asked slowly.

“Depends on what else the demon did— curses can be personalized. If you change the wording,” Adriel explained

“Yeah, we know,” Dean addressed her snappily. “So. What do we do?”

The angel fixed her eyes on him..

“Now? Well, now we hold hands, Dean.” She grinned, her teeth sharp and glistening in the blue fire light.

—————-

A half hour later, Dean was seated, criss-cross apple-sauce style next to Sam in a circle with Adriel and Aladril. Adriel sat to his right and reached a hand towards his, smirking.

“Is this really necessary?” He grumbled as she twined her vessel’s slender fingers with his, smooth and cool to the touch.

“Not really, but it makes it easier,” Aladril replied, reaching one hand to Sam and the other to her sister. “We need to read your souls.”

“You can do that?” Sam asked, staring at the two archangels in wonder. Dean wished he’d wipe that expression off his face. Sure, these two weren’t exactly like all the other angels they’d met-- even other archangels. They’d stepped in and out of the ring of celestial fire earlier like the flames were nothing more than chalk on a sidewalk... He had to admit it had impressed and terrified him in equal measure. They seemed to radiate power, even in their young vessels, but not just power… Goodness. Truth. Mercy. All of the cheesy shit he used to believe angel’s stood for. It made Dean suspicious of them, despite how highly Castiel had spoken of them before.

“You don’t trust angels,” Adriel said suddenly, looking him in the eye.

“So, when you say that you can read our souls, what you really mean is read our minds?” Dean asked sourly, yanking his hand from hers.

“I was just guessing, based on your behavior,” She extended her hand back to him innocently. He took it with a heavy sigh. He didn’t have much of a choice, did he?

~Liar~ he thought, in hopes she would hear it. She frowned slightly, making him smirk. ~Can’t read my thoughts, my ass...~

“Curses leave a mark on your soul. If we look hard enough we should be able to see what exactly they did to you and your brother,” Aladril continued explaining to Sam.

“Neat trick,” He smiled a little. The angel smiled rather proudly back.

“It’s a talent we perfected a long time ago, when we were still fighting on behalf of the heavenly host.”

“It’s probably why Castiel woke us and not, I don’t know… anyone else,” Adriel muttered.

Castiel, leaning against the far wall, shrugged.

“A lot has changed since you first went to sleep, we were out of options.”

Adriel locked eyes with him from across the room, reading the deep sadness in his eyes. He really had changed so much.

“You’ll have to catch us up as soon as we’re done with this,” She murmured. He nodded quietly, looking down at the ground. Adriel cleared her throat. “Alright. Sister, when you’re ready.”

Aladril squeezed her hand and closed her eyes. The boys watched them sway gently back and forth like grass in a light summer breeze, a quiet hum like electric static rising, emanating from them. That same static seemed to seep from their palms, tingling down the men’s fingertips, up their arms, into their chests, up into their minds…

Dean felt exposed. This was not the first time someone had allegedly “read his soul.” Famine, one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, had done so once and reported that his soul was a withered, starving mess. He wondered what Adriel was seeing. Deep down, he didn’t dislike these angels, even if he was frustrated they wouldn’t help fighting the demons. But it was almost refreshing to see they actually cared for human life, even the lives of the demons' vessels. Not even he and Sam cared all that much about it anymore. It was impractical, he always argued with himself, you couldn’t fight demons effectively if you were worried about their vessels. But he could remember a time when they’d cared. When hunting was just about protecting people and not saving the whole world and heaven to boot.

“You’ve been cursed to die in your next battle,” Adriel suddenly spoke, her voice strange. Dean’s eyes snapped open and he was shocked to see tears in her eyes when she looked back at him.

“Our hit on the shipment is in a week…,” Sam said.

Aladril nodded, eyes opening slowly. “We need to find the demon that cursed you and perform a cleansing ritual with his blood before you go anywhere near the shipment. There’s sure to be fighting and the curse will kill you immediately.”

Adriel stood suddenly.

“I-- uh, my vessel… She’s thirsty.” She looked down to Dean with a stare that reached into his soul.

“Take me to some water?” She asked, her voice a whisper.

For reasons unknown, he just nodded, standing slowly and leading her out into the bunker hallway. He’d just found out he had a week to live and the only way to remedy it was the blood of a demon currently partying it up in the depths of hell. His prospects, as per usual, were not looking good… but when the angel stepped out into the hallway with him, his imminent death was the last thing on his mind.

“You’re not actually thirsty, are you.” He stated rather than asked. Adriel shook her head, locking eyes with him. His mouth went dry and he looked at his feet. “What did you see?”

“Dean…” The way she said his name then made him look back up. She handled the word with care now rather than venom, her expression soft as she reached a hand up to his face. She shook her head slowly, examining his eyes. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“What? That my soul is a shriveled husk?” He tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t step away from her touch. There was something so comforting about the numbing static sinking into his cheek from her fingertips.

“You believed Famine when he told you that, huh?” She shook her head sadly. Dean frowned.

“How did you know that--?”

“I just read your soul, Dean. I know a lot of things about you now,” She smirked softly, caressing his face before pulling him into a hug. It should have been awkward, he should have stepped away and made an inappropriate joke to break the tension but, for once, Dean trusted that the gesture was sincere. That the truth and goodness and compassion he felt emanating from Adriel was real. It felt like she was pouring it into him, filling him with mending light. He felt empty, but better somehow, when she finally stepped back. She locked eyes with him again. “Famine lied to you. Do you understand? Just like Michael lied to you. And Lucifer. They read your soul blinded by their own weaknesses, their vision warped by their own greed… What they saw was themselves mirrored in you. Don’t believe them.”

Dean nodded, his mouth falling open slightly. She really had read his soul. Or his mind. Or whatever she’d done.

“Why won’t you fight with us?” He finally asked after a long moment staring into her eyes. Her brows knit themselves, some of the ethereal warmth and love disappearing to be replaced with familiar annoyance.

“We’ve already done our share of fighting, Dean. We’ve seen too much--.”

“Or you’re just scared,” He cut her off. She may have the power to read his soul, but he wasn’t blind himself. There had to be a reason two such powerful beings refused to get involved in a fight and, seeing the fire in Adriel’s eyes, he had a hard time believing it was just their compassion for human life. “What happened before you went to sleep for eternity? Cas never told us.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s because Castiel is pure of heart and knows better,” She appraised the man standing in front of her. In truth, she’d only agreed to the long sleep for Aladril. But… now was not the time to get into her and her sister’s past. She turned to go back into the room where Aladril, Castiel and Sam were waiting. “Come on. We don’t have very long and… Eli’s coming.”

#supernatural fandom #SPN #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #original characters #songfic challenge

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writersrealmbts · 6 years ago

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Con Amore: Part 3

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 07/24/2019

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 1,833 words

A/N: Hope you’re excited! Any theories yet? It’s posted early because I have plans for tomorrow and intended to post it then. Probably wait five days before posting the next part, if not a week.

Jimin stroked your hair, watching your every movement as you sipped some ginger ale. “Better, chubs?” You nodded. “It was probably the artifact Tae and I recovered combined with my worry. Nothing to worry about.” “Of course we worr—” Jimin broke off, dropping his gaze, “Worry. I’m sorry, y/n. You were already worried about me, and Joon-hyung, and…and you—” You put a finger to his lips. “You should try to sleep.” He looked a little like a kicked puppy. “But—” “Jimin-ah, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Please. I get that you don’t like conflict to remain, but there’s going to be even more if you push me right now.” He slowly nodded. “Okay, chubs. Cuddle with me?” You nodded, laying back and lightly holding onto Jimin. It was a good way of knowing that he was just worried about you instead of being upset with you. He craned his neck to get his kisses, then lay back with a slight smile when he received it. You matched his breathing, waiting until he had fallen deeply asleep, then glancing back. Yoongi nodded, climbing over and carefully taking your place. You slid off the bed, checking on Namjoon, who was half-asleep on the other bed. He caught your hand, squeezing it and pulling it so he could get a kiss. “Feel better?” “Yeah, you?” He nodded. “Hoseok gave me some herbs and painkillers.” “Good. Rest up,” You whispered, giving him a second kiss. Taehyung and Jungkook were eating in the next room, the one you sent Taehyung to get. Whatever they were eating smelled…absolutely terrible. You gagged a bit and closed the door, plugging your nose. “You okay?” You wrinkled your nose. “What the heck are they eating?” “Grilled chicken alfredo,” Hoseok answered, still looking concerned. “Your favorite. You must be really sick. You don’t like ginger outside of ginger-ale, so maybe catmint or peppermint…” He started muttering, feeling your forehead. “I really don’t want to consume anything right now, Hobi.” You tucked into his chest grateful he had come from taking a shower. He didn’t smell like anything but Hobi, and his chest had a comforting warmth to it. “I was planning on sleeping in there.” He hummed softly. “What smells are okay?” You shrugged, then sniffed your hand. “Citrus. I think peppermint.” He nodded. “Let me and the other two try and clean out the smell. If we can’t, are you okay sharing with Joon?” You nodded. You had told Jungkook that you wanted to have your own bed. You just needed space. Space to calm down. Space to worry. Space that should be filled by Jin. Space to punish yourself for not protecting your loves better. You had put off finding more protections for them, thinking they might find it a little overbearing and worrying that your love for them might cause you to overstep the bounds of your duty as an archivist. What if you used an artifact to protect them, and ended up hurting others because of it? But now Jin was missing, and even if you didn’t think he was in danger…Namjoon said Jin had been hurt. And who knew who had taken him, and for what reason. For all you knew it could be like what happened with your father. Oh God. “Tinny? Is your stomach bothering you that badly?” Hobi slouched to meet your eye, gently wiping your cheeks. You wiped a tear from your own face, staring at it. “No. It isn’t. I’m just…” You shook your head. “I don’t even know. I mean, I’m crying. Again. I’m broken. Why am I broken?” “Your voice just squeaked and it was adorable��no wait, don’t cry more!” “It’s not cute, it’s annoying and wrong and ugh!” “Sshhh,” He hushed you gently. “Jimin and Namjoon are asleep. We don’t want to wake them.” You pressed your face into his shoulder. “What’s wrong with me?” You asked, unable to push back the tears. “You’re sick and stressed, and I’m sure you’re tired and worried. I think you should just try and sleep, Tinny. Okay? Yoongi and Namjoon can help you figure out the songs you need in the morning. Do you want pajamas or are you okay in Jungkook’s t-shirt?” “I’m okay.” He guided you to the other side of Namjoon’s bed, helping you lay down under the covers. “You want me to hold your hand until you fall asleep?” You nodded, feeling calmer. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why….” He kissed you gently when you didn’t continue. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay. Just try and sleep, baby. Cuddle Joon if you feel sad again.” You nodded, closing your eyes. You were tired, and crying always gave you a headache. Maybe sleep was a better choice. You wiggled over so that you were next to Namjoon, squeezing Hobi’s hand. You opened your eyes as light shone brightly through your eyelids. You were in some sort of stone room, cold air greeting you where you had been warm next to Joon just seconds earlier. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time. There were no lights or windows, but the room was mostly lit. You looked at each blank wall, but the only thing that you really noticed was that the walls were the light source, and some other part of your brain was saying that you already knew that. “Nightingale,” A voice called behind you. You froze. “Nurya Cohen.” “You may face me, Archivist.” You slowly turned to her. “Working with that artifact you swore would stay locked up?” She looked to the floor, the glow about her dying down slightly. “Slicha, ani lokeakh et mlo ha’achrayut.” “I still don’t speak Hebrew.” “Sorry, I take full responsibility,” She translated, dipping her head. “But I should hope you know I would not go back on my word unless circumstances called for it.” “As a light priestess, I would hope not.” She turned, gesturing for you to follow. You fell in step with her, out into her sanctuary. Last you had seen her was when her healer friend had, well, healed you after your crash from the top of the building three years ago. She had come to you, so the last time you had been to the sanctuary was when you had dropped the artifact with her. Too big for you to move around, but perfectly hidden in her sanctuary. Which was a temple of light and healing, a place where some astronomy students also conducted their studies. It had surprisingly strong security despite being a pacifist group. “We have a metupal in our infirmary. One of yours, I believe.” She folded her hands in front of her, similar to how an opera singer might. “Actually, we are mostly certain.” “Oh?” You frowned, trying not to get your hopes up that it was Jin. “He keeps rambling about dorchadas and something about an oasis. He also said that the kids were in danger and he had to tell you, Nightingale.” “Dorchadas? Are you certain?” You frowned. “You know what it is?” “It’s Irish. For darkness.” She looked more troubled. “And the oasis mentioned?” You shook your head. “Not sure. Not even sure what kids he could mean. I keep an eye on multiple children’s homes.” “Well, he wouldn’t lay still until I assured him I would pass the message to you. But I also contacted you because of the rumors that we heard just before his arrival. Rumors of a dark organization that works to remove the powers of supers, one that had been disbanded, but are now active again. And that they had found a former patient.” She paused, glancing at you as you froze. “Nightingale?” “The Oasis Initiative,” You breathed. Both of you were silent, but she looked at you as if waiting for further response. “Cursing is a little inappropriate here so you better continue.” “Quid pro quo.” You made a slashing gesture, making a face as you tried to think of how to explain it. “After you finish.” “Very well. One of our watchers got the pictures and information of the patient. It’s Siphon, or Laguz as you know him. However, another group also got the information—” “The Conservatory,” You guessed. Everything made sense now. They probably sent rookies because they thought it would be a basic abduction followed by an explanation that it was for his safety. They probably only heard whispers of a threat and given their penchant for watching out for their own (one of the few points you couldn’t find fault with) went to make sure that the whispers couldn’t be carried out. She nodded. “I know you dislike the place—I don’t blame you—but if this Oasis Initiative is functioning again….” “Then we all need to be ready for the worst. And we’ll need a strong base of operations, like the Conservatory. I trust you to send a representative as well?” She dipped her head. “Of course, Archivist. I will give you the head-start. Be advised, though, you should put distance between yourself and this fight.” Everything was getting blurry and the panic—that was a side effect of the artifact—started rising in your body. “Why? And who’s in the infirmary?” You managed to choke out. Her gaze flit to your midsection before the dream shattered like glass. Strong arms had you pinned down. “Y/n!” You finally opened your eyes, almost throwing up, but somehow managing to choke it down long enough to free yourself and run to the bathroom. Someone pulled your hair back. “Maybe she should see a doctor,” One of them said softly. You sat back, panting a little. “Tae, can you get me my makeup bag?” “Yeah.” “Makeup? Honey, I don’t think that’s—” “You’re right, you don’t think of me having anything else in my makeup bag, but I do. Now, Hoseok, I love you, but get out. Same goes to you, Kook, and you, Yoongi. Nothing to see here.” You got to your feet, reaching to flush the toilet before shakily stepping over to the sink to brush your teeth. You scrunched your nose, frustrated with yourself. “I’m sorry. I just…I need a minute.” “Okay,” Jungkook said. “We’ll keep the food in the other room. Do you want some toast?” You nodded. Tae handed you your bag. You closed the door behind him, taking a couple deep breaths to steady yourself before going to the bottom of your bag and pulling the pregnancy test out. “Please be wrong,” You muttered. You waited the appropriate amount of time, trying to count how long it had been since you had had your last visit from Aunt Flo. This would be the worst timing ever. You didn’t want to be sidelined. Not if the Oasis Initiative was active again. You glanced at the time on whoever’s watch you had found sitting on the counter, then looked at the test.

~~~~~

Part 2. Part 4.

Masterlist. ~ Series Masterpost.

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

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Lux & Dash

Lux: Good pilgrim, praytell Lux: is your hair just like that or do you have a routine Lux: I must know Dash: what's yours naturally trying to hang like? I'll hit you with what's outta this world 🐤 Lux: full samara, senpai Lux: turn off the tube QUICK 🙄 Dash: 🤣 bummer Dash: 🥥 oil is far out on all hair types even 🔪🔪🔪 Dash: aloe vera will make her 💪 Dash: lemme 🤔🤔.... Dash: do you fuck with 🐣?? Lux 🙇 down at your feet, oh lord is the most high place! 🙌 Lux: the chooks here lay too many for us non-strict-vegans to get through Lux: save my hair AND cut down on our foodwaste? Lux: I will be ♕ and you will be ♚ Dash: 2 🥄 🥑 oil, same of 🥥 & aloe vera gel Dash: 2 raw 🥚 Dash: heat it & leave that baby on for time Dash: 30 mins ++++ Dash: 🚿 with whoever Lux: the CP of my hair is gonna rival Rapunzels Lux: 💃💃💃 Lux: I promise to never ever clock you with a 🍳 Dash: 💛👼👑 Dash: you'd be choice with her 🌺🌺🌺 look Lux: 😘 plant 🌱 for every 🌺 and compliment you gimme then we can talk about april showers coming earlier than anticipated☔️ Dash: right on Lux: Is your full name Dashiell/ can I call you that anyway Lux: because its really fitting and if you care to know I shall tell you for why Dash: it's not but if you're down I can be down too Lux: SO; here was my thought 🚄 climb aboard and ride the rails with me for a sec here Lux: Dash ➼ Dashiell ➼ meaning page boy ➼ page boy = ring bearer ➼ ring bearers of the One Ring ➼ Samwise Gamgee = you AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT Dash: 🤯🤯👍 Lux: I know, allow me to scoop up the remainder your 🧠 from the ceiling and put it into a handwoven jute tote for you to take home Lux: I been knew you love food as much as him, its like 1845-49 up in here after you've come around 🥔💀 Dash: tight gestures like those 👐 gotta keep you in the groove here 🥰 Dash: trust you to pick up on a royal appetite Lux: I'm the holy daughter returned, boy Lux: only eating manna from heaven, though if anyone in this place could make a 😋 cake like back home, I'd let them eat it Dash: set to call you that when I fall in with my 🎺 but do you go by anything shorter on top? Lux: Hebrews 13:2!!! Lux: so that explains where you come from Lux: more in a cloud of smoke than holy light but they could only get so many details dead on in the good book Lux: I'm Lux, of course, X if the mood takes you but I can't make it any easier for you Dash: here to make us 👀 the light, yeah? righteous 👼 Lux: The mission of making my parents proud of me again is not one I am currently embarked upon but service to God and all his creations was always their jam Lux: supposedly Lux: but if you're here to get me to renounce my sex, along with the devil and all his works (duh), oh angelic messenger, I still have to decline Dash: aere perennius is the vibe I'm picking up from you, Lux Dash: it'd be a heavy mission Lux: You owe the world a forest for that one because words like that evoke so many cardinal sins within me Dash: do you know about 🎋? Lux: Tell me Dash: it's a tanabata tree, for wishes Dash: they set the bamboo afloat on the river or on 🔥 after the festival Lux: We must participate here Lux: and one day I will go to where the festival is meant to be and you must come because you introduced me to the magic Dash: we can go to Japan, Sao Paolo or LA, they all have 'em Lux: Of course Lux: I seem to have traveled in the wrong direction Lux: to the wrong coast and onwards Dash: at least you ain't separated from your lover by a 🌌 Dash: that's the legend that goes with the festival Lux: oh Lux: how heartbreakingly beautiful Dash: but they are allowed to meet once a year on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month Dash: it's not a total downer Lux: so young Dashiell believes it is better to taste heaven but the once than to never know it at all Lux: good Lux: I like you Dash: I try & get my kicks tasting as much as I can as often as I can Dash: though yeah, once over never Lux: can't take on the 🌌 Lux: though perhaps you can, with a name like a superhero Dash: no sweat 💪 Dash: if I don't ✂ my hair off 😏 Lux: 😱 Lux: I do have weak ankles! Lux: you avoid barbers and I'll avoid heels that are taller than... Lux: five Lux: no six inches Dash: 👌👌 Dash: if you avoid any heel I'll be able to reach you way out though Dash: no 🛹 jumps 💫 Lux: YET Lux: until you remember where you parked your chariot of fire, you give me reason to kick off my heels, and I'll happily do it Dash: 💃? Lux: Both in worn levis, both in torn T-shirts Lux: of course, that's the only way Dash: there's a tanabata song, I could sing it for you Dash: the translation at least Lux: 😻🙏 Dash: it'll be a blast Lux: 🚀🌠 Dash: have you 👀🎸? Dash: mine's MIA Lux: you can borrow my girl Lux: for one song Dash: I won't hog her like a flake, digging the trust too much Lux: you can abuse my trust just go easy on Dolores Lux: she's a folksy kinda gal, if you kick it punk rock she'll 😳😩 Dash: she'll stay 🍒💖 I'm about a gentle touch Dash: what kind are you? the words are the festival's but I don't know the 🎶 Dash: I'll make it yours, like Lux: as angelic as you look Lux: a sinner can only but hope not Lux: how about you sing it for me but play it like its yours Dash: cool with me Lux: then the song can be ours Dash: I think you're unreal Dash: the most Lux: Oh, because I am Lux: and you are perfect because you know that's a compliment Dash: this fly by of yours is gonna last some time, yeah? Lux: though not compelled by God or a power higher than my own Lux: this is where I'm meant to be Dash: me too Lux: I know Lux: I divined you out of 🌟✨☀️🌌 Dash: we planting that forest to grow together or on opposite sides? Lux: one 🌎 one 💓 Dash: roots are gonna get tangled if you keep laying down your 💓 next to mine Lux: I can grow anywhere Lux: you don't need to worry about me Dash: 🌻 Dash: you're gonna make this place better, I feel it Lux: you have family here? Lux: in the commune Dash: yeah Lux: do you like it here Dash: I love it Lux: I do too Lux: its Lux: loving Dash: when did you come through? have you met every 🐤 & 🐈? cos you should meet everyone Dash: feel all the love Lux: I've been in Dublin about... a month, two Lux: feels like forever Lux: but here I'm a total 🍒 Lux: I met Hazel completely by fate at a women's health drop-in she was running a few weeks ago, told her my story and here I am Dash: farm tour 1st 🍀 tour 2nd Lux: Coming Lux: 🎸 in tow Dash: safe Lux: and sound Lux: I'm just tryna catch a mirror moment Lux: not enough, if I had any complaints but 🤫 Dash: which room's yours? I'll make space to hang another one near Dash: then the 🌙 Lux: we'll end the tour there Lux: my contribution Dash: now that's sound Lux: Do you know about me? Dash: what about you? Lux: That I don't have girl parts Lux: I won't be accused of that kind of trickery Dash: I won't accuse you of any Lux: ☺ Dash: you set the pace, I'm in it Lux: You're keeping up spectacularly Lux: now, where does my tour start? Dash: orchard Lux: 🍏🍎🍐🍊🍋🍇🍈🍒🍑🥭 Dash: there's the best 🍏🍎 tree, easy to climb whatever shoes you're wearing Dash: you can see the whole farm from the top Lux: [Show up honey] Dash: [😍 at her we all know] Lux: [dressed hyper-femme as always and way more dressy than most here we know, doing a curtsey like 🤭] Dash: [holds out a 🍎 like he's the 🐍 & she's Eve, looking cute and tempting] Lux: [obviously taking it and taking a sassy bite] Dash: [into it obviously hand holding through this orchard tour for Winnie's sake] Lux: [gonna climb this tree] Dash: [do it kids] Lux: [gonna have to help her even though she's left the heels behind] Dash: [thankfully he's not that much of a dick that he won't, imagine just like byeeee] Lux: [😂 no one needs anyone falling out of a tree rn] Dash: [we aren't killing either of you off so just enjoy the view] Lux: ['it looks so big from up here, when you're in it, it feels...close'] Dash: ['it's big but the fam's bigger' gives her a look like you'll see, genuinely buzzing cos does love it here] Lux: [the biggest smile 'why don't you live here?'] Dash: ['my mum & dad don't, & that's their biggest drag, they ain't hip but they ain't real hassle' casually don't mention that Cosmo exists okay then] Lux: [nods 'everyone should get as much family as they can'] Dash: ['you can meet 'em too, it's cool'] Lux: [excited puppy look like really?!] Dash: ['my mum used to be a rad skater & now she sits around bench racing at her own bone yard, it's a good space to hang loose'] Lux: [just listening like no way! 'what about your dad?'] Dash: ['he's more easily bugged, we don't always vibe, but shit stays chill'] Lux: ['yeah but what did he used to be? before he got old and boring too'] Dash: ['he played football' with a shrug cos so uninterested we know] Lux: ['ooh, was he famous?'] Dash: ['not really'] Lux: ['bummer'] Dash: ['you wanna be famous?'] Lux: [is thinking like hmm 'I don't NOT want it but its not my number one all-time dream...not even top ten'] Dash: ['what is?'] Lux: [puts her index fingers to the corners of his mouth to make him smile] Dash: [laughs] Lux: ['you?'] Dash: ['I'm thinking we should start a band' shout out to Ali your lowkey grandma] Lux: [a look like um yes, how have you not and putting three fingers up to let him know its made the list] Dash: [starts to climb down like come on, so much to see] Lux: ['don't ditch me!' and running after him] Dash: [takes her all around the vegetable patches next, introducing her to any peeps they come across] Lux: [living laughing loving honestly we can skip] Dash: [imagine all the cute animals they would have, I hope none of them die in the fire I'll cry] Lux: [lmao animals usually bolt when fire so they should be fine, unless they then get hit by cars or some shit] Dash: [I'm saying they are all A okay bitch] Dash: [post tour skip] Dash: gotta hit home Dash: later? Lux: Undoubtedly 😊 Dash: we'll jam Dash: 🤔 band names Lux: I'll throw it out there Lux: I wonder if anyone can drum drum Lux: not just drum circle Lux: I'll ask that too Dash: I'm jazzed Lux: 🎺 Dash: you play the harp 👼? Lux: ☺😋💕 Lux: If only Lux: there are bass' and banjos and plenty of acoustics Lux: I'll go thrifting and see if I can find one Dash: wait for me Lux: we should see how many wild instruments we can find Lux: one for everyone Dash: your 🧠⚙️ is far out Lux: but not far enough you can't reach me Dash: 🌌 can't stop me, yeah? Lux: nope Lux: not as long as you got that hair Dash: [selfie like it's still there] Lux: Thank God Lux: don't need to 😢 today Dash: you don't need to cry any day baby Lux: Keep me smiling Dash: I've got you Dash: we all have Lux: 💕 Lux: I really thought I knew family and community before this, you know Lux: but I was wrong then and this is better Dash: right on Lux: You're adorable Dash: I've got 👀 for you too Lux: I know Lux: your 👀 are like Lux: coffee Dash: 🧠⚙💖 Dash: yours are like jumping into a river Dash: they get bluer the deeper you go Lux: oh Lux: I think I want you back here now Lux: where did you go again Dash: 🛹🗲 Dash: my parents place Dash: you wanna meet me there? Lux: I'm not in the mood to meet your parents right this second, forgive me Lux: but by the time I've finished dinner here and 🚲 over Lux: sounds good Dash: idk if they're there cos I'm not yet Lux: so we can be alone alone Lux: that'd be novel Dash: yeah Dash: it feels like so much empty space Dash: for the number of bodies who live in it Lux: do you feel lonely there Dash: nah, it's got a good feel Dash: I grew up in it Lux: That's a feel you can't buy Dash: I'll show you my 👶📸 Dash: they're wild Lux: you musta been so cute Lux: your face is still 👶 now Dash: no ✂ then either Lux: so mowgli Dash: oh no, is this a trippy topic for you? Dash: I didn't think Lux: it's okay, I like hearing about happy kids Lux: its a sin to be envious of or covet other people's happiness Dash: Lux Lux: 😊? Dash: I don't think I believe in sin Dash: so if you wanna harsh on my good vibes, you know, I won't be 😡 Lux: Oh, sin is very real, its just whether you believe you'll be punished for the sins that are written about Lux: I appreciate you but I've got nothing to be 😡 about either Lux: 🤞 Dash: you can hit me with a shut up any time Dash: I'll still dig you Lux: I enjoy our conversations Dash: yeah? Lux: absolutely Lux: you're a beautiful 🐺 boy Dash: you're the most beautiful 🦊 Lux: never stone cold Dash: nah, the hottest Lux: I feel it Dash: 👍 it's the mood you gotta stay in Lux: with you around, that shouldn't be a problem Dash: we'll keep vibing Lux: did you like it Dash: you want me to say what I know you could tell Dash: I'll write you a 🎶 Lux: First hit for the band? Lux: I'll be famous after-all Dash: I've been listening Dash: I understand what you want Lux: and you're gonna give it to me Dash: that's my action for sure Lux: roll 20 please Dash: come be alone with me Lux: dash dash dash Lux: you're so pretty and fun and cool and I want you again Dash: [sends her the deets to where his house is] Lux: so far Lux: I must like you huh 😏 Dash: yeah it's a drag where I live Dash: but it's new heights that you like me Dash: 🚀💕 Lux: why wouldn't I? Dash: idk Dash: do you know about me? Lux: I know enough to like you Lux: what do you think would make me unlike you Lux: let's compare Dash: it's not all laid back the shit that other girls say Lux: you're a 💔 Dash: I'm not out here making a game of it like that Dash: but it's happened for real Lux: Oh dear Dashiell Lux: my heart was broken long before I got here Lux: and I've had to severe and untangle roots so much deeper than yours could ever be Lux: I told you, there's no need to worry about me, you can't hurt me Dash: that's fucked up Lux: Perhaps Dash: can I make it any better? Lux: no Lux: but that's okay Lux: now is better, there's no need to fix what's been Dash: I wasn't being plastic before, you're home now Lux: I feel it Lux: I have no choice but to give up my old definition but I'm less scared and 😢 at the prospect of the redefinition now, forced though it was Dash: it'll be okay Dash: we'll make it happen that it's only that Dash: or like better Lux: you're not a bad person Lux: I can tell Dash: if I'm someone you like, I'm cool with it Lux: good Lux: I need people right now, you know Dash: everyone at the farm, they'll be what you need Dash: they are for me Lux: what do you need them for? Dash: a blast Dash: my other fam want me to change some shit I do Lux: 🚀👌 Lux: I get that Lux: is it stuff you can't change or don't wanna Dash: idk if I recognise the difference Lux: sounds like a can't, then Dash: stepping into new 👟 feels like a bad scene Dash: I fuck with the ones I've worn in Lux: That's up to you Lux: I like new shoes Lux: maybe they're just worried your feet are getting all scrunched outta place Dash: yours are groovy though Dash: not handed down Dash: they fit you Lux: I had to steal 'em though Lux: and when my dad found 'em they sent me away Dash: a 🦊 like I said Lux: have you seen the fox and the hound? Dash: nah Dash: it's disney yeah? Lux: Yep Lux: I'm gonna make you watch it Dash: I'm about netflix & chill Lux: We'll chill first Lux: its real sad Lux: 😭 Dash: I be trying to chill with you nonstop though Dash: how bad do you want me to 👀 at things other than you Lux: 🤭 Lux: maybe your cinematic education can wait Lux: if we're truly to make the most of alone alone time Dash: lay it on me that I'm an ugly crier another day Dash: we're making beautiful things happen Lux: you're Lux: just like Lux: seraphic Dash: around you, I gotta be Lux: nu-uh Lux: I can't tell Lux: I fell out of God's favour like a long time ago Dash: you can tell Dash: you're still 👼 Dash: the fallen ones were the most beautiful anyway, yeah? Dash: god's a jealous 🐈 Lux: All angels are beautifulc Lux: and genderless actually, like God Lux: beyond our limited understanding, better Dash: cool Lux: for them Lux: its self-idolatry if you want it for yourself Lux: 🚫 Dash: if I want you for myself, what sin is that? Lux: you actually wanna know? 'cos I've always thought this particular subset of sins sounds unintentionally hot Dash: I'm listening intently Lux: peccata clamantia Lux: The sins that cry to Heaven for Vengeance 🤤 Lux: they're the ones that God will deliver his justice upon, lots of people only know about the seven deadly Lux: but they're the least serious, actually Dash: shit Lux: guess that's why it feels so good Lux: shall we? Dash: 🌌 & god trying to stop us but I'm 💪 Lux: you want me Dash: yeah Lux: then you can have me Dash: show up Lux: I am Lux: ⏲ Dash: right now though Lux: if only my bike had wings Dash: that can be your festival wish Dash: mine too cos I've waited fucked up amounts of time for you Lux: 💡 Lux: your mind, boy Lux: though patience is evidently not your virtue, I'm not mad about it Lux: at all Dash: idc about virtues if you're a sin Lux: you're making me all pink Dash: it's a beautiful colour for you Lux: you're the loveliest 🐺 I've ever known Dash: I wanna be Lux: you are baby Dash: you're like a song I can't get out of my head Dash: & it's the most Dash: I'm so connected to every word Lux: You make me feel really...high but it that warm, soft focus way where there's no bad thoughts or feelings at all, no doubt or regret or shame creeping in, just the good washing over you again and again, like that split-second after you cum but Lux: prolonged Lux: its crazy, you're crazy Dash: we can live in it Lux: lets Dash: I'm in Lux: 🎡🎢🎠 Dash: 🎪🤹 Lux: 🤡 Dash: 🦁🐯 Lux: 🐘 Dash: 🍿 Lux: 🥜 Dash: 🐿️ Lux: 😱 Lux: how could you Mr Squirell Dash: he's gotta eat Lux: He could've just asked Dash: he don't know you like that Dash: thought you'd say nah Dash: I tried to persuade him he wasn't right on & you're 👍 but I must not 🗨🐿 Lux: 😂 Lux: he's more than likely from my homeland, I'll speak to him Lux: can't understand your accent Dash: gabh mo leithscéal Lux: 🤗 what did you say?! Dash: pardon me Dash: is 🗨🍀 on your list? Lux: I've always wanted to Lux: no one at my father's church really spoke it Lux: or would teach me if they did Lux: will you? Dash: my mum taught me Dash: hers never spoke it either Dash: your turn to bring me an 🍎 Dash: but yeah Lux: 😣 damn Lux: someone else here might, I've heard loads of languages flying about Dash: eu também sei português Dash: also from that side of the fam Lux: I 👀 that Dash: Arlo & his brother & sisters are my cousins Lux: Ahh Lux: that's cool Lux: they're so cute Dash: there's many more but they don't live at the farm Dash: you have to catch 'em when they fly by Lux: I'll be sure to do that Lux: do they all have lots of kids, how are there so many Lux: no offense Dash: started with 11 Dash: & most of 'em had 👶s Lux: ELEVEN Lux: 🤔💡 Lux: are you mormons? Dash: 🌼 children ☮ Dash: it was a big-ish fam before that though 👵 had 8 Dash: & she's no hippie Lux: why are you an only-child? Dash: I'm not Dash: I've got an older brother Lux: oh, me too! Lux: he's 13 years older Lux: I was a miracle mistake baby Lux: where's yours Dash: at ⚽ training I think Dash: that's his bag Lux: oh he's not 👴 Lux: you didn't mention him before Dash: he's 18 months + on me Dash: but we're in different 🌌 Lux: I feel you Lux: it musta been nice when you were kids though Lux: I loved when there were kids in the congregation but people always moved on, from God or physically Dash: nah, it's been hassle from the jump Dash: he's 🏆🥇💪 Dash: I'm 💫🚀👀 Lux: you don't like him huh Dash: he's a drag Dash: we're usually jiving 🥊 there's no ☮ & 💓 Dash: messes with my equilibrium Lux: You gotta protect yourself Lux: I get it Dash: I knew you would Lux: 'course Lux: its the same with my brother and my mom Lux: they still 💓 me but they can't see me Dash: do you 💓 'em? Lux: oh of course Lux: they're my family Dash: do you wish you could see 'em? Lux: I wish I still lived with them Lux: but I understand why I can't Dash: do you get to 🗨? Lux: no Dash: can't you? if your dad didn't find out? Lux: No Lux: not unless I'm going to make efforts, make changes Lux: and I can't and that's two eternal sins Lux: at least Lux: could make a case for 3 Lux: so they have to turn away, you see Lux: they all love me but there's nothing they can do until I do Dash: I'm sorry Dash: that everything's so heavy for you Lux: you don't need to be sorry Lux: not your transgressions Dash: but I don't want you to change Dash: & idc if it's a sin Lux: you're sweet Lux: they just want to save me from hell Dash: we're gonna have to live forever Dash: to save you Lux: We better find the philosopher's stone Lux: or the fountain of youth Dash: the 🐿 will help Dash: he digs you now Lux: he's a wizard Lux: knew it 😏 Dash: most animals have magic Lux: true facts Dash: 🦊s who are unreal 👼s especially Lux: you're such a flirt Lux: 😋 Dash: yeah 😏 Dash: that's my magic 😍💖 Lux: I can't disagree Dash: 💭😘 Lux: you can dream 'til I get there Dash: I'm 👀 for your 🚲 Lux: I'm meant to be up on the balcony, not you Lux: love some role reversal Dash: yo don't be on the rebound, Romeo 💔 Lux: awh you jealous Dash: 🤣 Dash: of someone you forget at the start of the play as soon as you 🕰 me? nah baby Dash: but it's salty to the other 💘 Lux: It saves her life Lux: she's fine, honestly, thriving Dash: okay then yeah, I am jealous Dash: of her thrive Lux: poor boy Dash: it's no bummer, like Dash: she ain't gonna be immortal, that's me & you Dash: our fam Lux: there's only so much magic to go around Dash: however much there is, we gotta use it right Lux: 🎺 that's holy decree Dash: & royal 👑 Lux: okay sweet prince Lux: 🤭 Dash: if I go solo from the band, there's an outta sight name Lux: you could do so many covers 💜 Dash: it'd be groovy Dash: but I ain't leaving the group Lux: not before its started Lux: have some loyalty, boy Dash: yo not ever Lux: we gonna do a blood oath Dash: use your hair as a 🔪 before the 🥑 & 🥥 hits Dash: or the ✂ I don't Lux: 😂 you're horrible Lux: and its far too limp for that Dash: nah your hair is 💣 Lux: ☺ Lux: really Dash: yeah Lux: it grew quite fast Dash: 🔮✨ Lux: I'm gonna grow it as long as I can Dash: there might be a better recipe Dash: I'll 🗨 to every 🐤 on the farm Lux: I wish I had curls like them too Lux: most of them Lux: alas Dash: you can borrow mine Lux: you're the bestest friend in the whole 🌌 Dash: 🤞🤝👐 Lux: let down your long hair then Lux: I think I've arrived Dash: [let her in and give her a house tour boy] Lux: [we clearly need Cosmo to come back like Dash did in that convo jussayin] Dash: [payback tbh so yeah we do] Lux: [she'd just be chatting up a storm, awks] Dash: [casually steer her to your room as fast as you can like] Lux: [just being like wanna come watch fox and the hound lmao] Dash: [she's so cute bye] Lux: [at least Cosmo won't be rude to you, even if he is like umm] Dash: [just thinks she's high probably] Lux: [most likely] Dash: [rude but fair] Lux: [when is your brother not as far as you're concerned] Dash: [exactly dr phil] Lux: [anything else we wanna though?] Dash: [we know what's up I think we can post it]

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caranfindel · 6 years ago

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Recap/review 14.17: “Game Night”

Let the countdown begin, my friends. We only get to do this 24 more times.

THEN: Oh, god, Nick. SO MUCH NICK. It’s not gonna be good. (In fact, I turned to The Husband and warned him it wasn’t going to be a good one. I also pointed out that usually, when he watches with me, it turns out to not be a good one. Case in point: episodes The Husband has watched this season in their entirety include Unhuman Nature. Episodes he has missed include Mint Condition. He may not be allowed to ever watch with me again.) And also Jack and his soul, or lack thereof, but mostly Nick.

NOW: Donatello! He’s baking cookies while singing “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.” (And as I posted earlier, this song is from “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” and if that’s the kind of ending you want for the show, you may find that encouraging. I don’t and I don’t.)

Someone rings the doorbell, impatiently, and we see that Donatello still hasn’t regained his ability to discern good and evil, because he answers the door to some unseen person and the next thing he knows, he’s tied to a table and getting injected with something in an old-timey, completely metal (i.e., opaque) syringe. And screaming. Crap. Those cookies are gonna burn.

Title card!

Bunker. Dean is playing… what is this game called… Mousetrap? Yeah, I think it’s Mousetrap. It’s one of those games that you never actually played according to the rules, you just played with the fun pieces (hello, Operation). Jack’s in the kitchen, being questioned by Mary about his popcorn-popping, when we hear “son of a bitch!” from the other room. And I know some of you are not fans of the gendered insult, but regardless, I’m just glad they dropped that "son of a B” and “rhymes with itch” nonsense. Dean Winchester wouldn’t talk that way. Jack feels game night might not be as relaxing for Dean as intended (what happened to movie night?), but Mary says it was his favorite game as a child (THIRTY SIX YEARS AGO, YOU MEAN?) and okay, who would know about making Dean happy better than Mary? I mean, she caught on to his farewell tour, right? Oh, no, wait, she totally didn’t. Hmmm. Maybe you don’t know him at all.

A little foreshadowing for a trap that will come up later? A metaphor for Dean’s life? Discuss.

Anyway. She asks if Jack is feeling better, and he’s frustrated that people keep asking him that, and she’s all, we’re family. That’s what family does. Pretends they know you. He’s not better. He’s annoyed. As he walks away, she offers to listen to him talk or vent if he’s so inclined, and we watch him very deliberately paste on a smile before he turns back to her and says “you’re here, I know” and he pretends to appreciate her offer and oh, no, Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack. Mary turns away and seems to be thinking pretty much the same thing. But maybe it’s not that Jack is going down a dark road. Maybe it’s just that he’s annoyed with Mary. Because that’s ABSOLUTELY BELIEVABLE.

Game night will begin as soon as Sam gets back with the pizza. Jack expresses interest in the pineapple pizza, proving that he’s at least got some decency left in him. Dean considers it a crime against humanity. (Sidebar: I love Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza, but my mom likes pineapple on her pepperoni pizza, and THAT, my friends, is criminal.)

Mary brings Dean his phone and tells him he missed a call. Dean, you’ve always got at least a dozen pockets on or about your person at any time; there is no excuse for not having your phone.

The message is from Donatello and it’s obviously very disturbing. He puts it on speaker and plays it for Mary and Jack. Donatello begs Dean and Sam for help, and then starts speaking in a language that is not English. And what I want very much is for Sam to listen to this message and recognize it as Enochian and translate it, because OF COURSE SAM SPEAKS ENOCHIAN. But I’m sure we’re not going to get that.

Dean calls Sam and gets his voicemail message, which simply says “you’ve reached Sam Winchester, if this is an emergency, call my brother.” I’m guessing this is the friends-and-family-and-trusted-hunters number, since he doesn’t even give Dean’s number. If you have this number, you have Dean’s number. I like that theory a lot. But why isn’t Sam answering? Has something befallen him? Dean’s not concerned, so I guess I don’t need to be either. He complains that the whole town is a dead zone. (I guess Sam’s supernatural ability to access wifi anywhere doesn’t extend to LTE) and decides they can’t wait for Sam. Oh, good, they’re splitting the brothers up again! Yay! I love it when that happens.

Ahem.

Dean leaves Jack with his phone, so Sam can hear the voicemail and then call him back on his spare. I wonder if Dean’s spare phone is his FBI phone, and if so, does his outgoing message say “you’ve reached Agent Mumbledymumble, if this is an emergency, call my partner?” I hope so. (Cas’s says the same thing, except it says “call my partner, who is tall and has beautiful hair.”)

We cut to a little restaurant and Cas and Anael, and I’m going to recap all of that now and get it out of the way. (Feel free to skip. I feel like skipping, but I’m going to recap it anyway, because that’s just how dedicated I am.) He gives Anael a pair of earrings (16th century Burmese blood rubies, 5 carat, according to Anael) which are only lightly cursed, as a bribe. He wants to contact God. “Good luck with that,” she laughs. But he knows she used to be Joshua’s right hand, and God spoke to Joshua, and maybe she knows how he did it. He wants God to restore Jack’s soul.

He says, again, that he doesn’t know how much of his soul is left, and the last time I complained about Cas’s sudden inability to check that for himself, many of you pointed out that there could be very good reasons for this. Maybe it’s different with a nephilim. Maybe it’s too dangerous. And all of that would be fine, it really would, if the SHOW would give it to us. If Dean would have said “can’t you check, like you did with Sam?” and Cas had replied “it would be too risky, Jack is a nephilim, not a human, and it could be like unleashing a nuclear weapon.” But instead, we’re just getting details about earrings. (Also, I’m saddened to learn that Joshua didn’t survive. I liked him. The original Joshua, not the crappy AU version.)

Moving on. She figures the Winchesters don’t know what he’s up to, and says she can’t help, because Joshua never initiated contact with God. He just received. Cas takes the earrings back and she suddenly gets a little more helpful. There was a rumor, after the fall, that Joshua called God and got an answer. She doesn’t know how he did it, but she knows someone who does. They pull up (in yet another Cas vehicle, a huge pickup that I don’t think we’ve seen before, or maybe we have, all I know is Sam still doesn’t have his own gd car) at some kind of junk/antique store. The guy running the place is Methuselah, one of the few surviving angels. He says he and Joshua were roommates after the fall, and “the guy made a mean lasagna.” I wonder why it didn’t taste like molecules. Cas threatens to burn the place down, with Methuselah in it, and Methuselah calls him “kiddo” (hee!) and says he doesn’t care. I don’t know why another angel would be threatened by Cas, but when Cas calls his bluff and gives him the glowy eyes, he says the “thingamajig” Joshua used to contact God is around somewhere, and they’ll know it when they see it. Or not.

They poke around, and I had something to say about Anael’s “mulberry silk” but I’ve lost the will to write it out, and they find nothing. Anael doesn’t think it matters, because she knows God won’t answer and doesn’t care, because according to Joshua he “doesn’t meddle.” Which Cas disputes, because God brought him back. (And put the Winchesters on a plane over Ilchester, but I digress.) As far as Anael is concerned, that’s even worse - he lets millions of humans die screaming, but saves one angel. Huh. She also knows the real reason Cas is doing this is because he knows Jack has no soul at all, and he doesn’t want to have to tell Sam and Dean. Also, she stepped in a dead rat and she’s done. But on their way out, Cas notices something on a jewelry rack - a pendant that looks similar to the Samulet.

Actually, it looks like an evil version of the Samulet. I mean, it’s a freaking SKULL.

Methuselah says Joshua forged it “before he fell,” and I wonder why it didn’t occur to him that this could be the item Cas was looking for. Or he did know and was just being a dick. Cas clutches the amulet and tries to call on God, invoking the names of Sam and Dean, but he gets no answer. “It never worked for Joshua either,” says Methuselah, and again, why didn’t he admit he knew exactly what the thing was, and that it didn’t work? Outside the shop, Cas tells Anael he’s going to go home and tell Sam and Dean the truth, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do after that. He tells her she was wrong when she said everyone is alone (which I think I skipped in my recap but WHATEVER), because they all have each other. Well, you have Sam and Dean and Jack, so it seems a little unfair to rub that in Anael’s face, but go on then.

So let’s go now to Sam, who is back at the bunker (wearing an orange plaid shirt that would probably go nicely with that orange jacket of his, if I liked that monstrosity) and telling Dean exactly what I said, which is that he should be with him. Oh, Sam. You and I have so much in common.

Dean blows off Sam’s concern and asks about Donatello’s message. Sam tells him it’s not Enochian (OH HAPPY DAY) and he thinks it’s ancient Hebrew, but they’re still working on the translation. He tells Dean to watch his back. We stay with Dean and Mary in the Impala, driving through the perpetually-rainy darkness. (The Husband points out that we should be able to hear the windshield wipers. I really don’t think he’s going to be allowed to watch with me any more.) Dean says Sam (Sammy!) sounds stressed, and Mary says Jack and Dean are stressed too, and she wishes… well, we don’t know what she wishes, but Dean cuts her off and says “you’re here,” like that’s an accomplishment. She wishes she could have been here more. I don’t know, Mary. For a woman who was dead for more than 30 years, you’ve been here plenty. She admits that she can be closed-off and hard, and Dean says “that’s where I get it from,” as if John Winchester had none of those qualities. But okay. Mary wants Dean to know that she’s grateful for every day she has with him and Sam. And on first watch, I assumed this was just some leftover emotion from “Lebanon.” Because I’m always talking about foreshadowing but I miss it when it actually happens, don’t I?

Bunker. Sam is still listening to the voicemail and consulting his English-to-ancient-Hebrew dictionary (and rubbing the back of his neck which is SO DAMN CUTE AND I CANNOT EXPLAIN WHY) when he suddenly recognizes that Donatello is quoting the Bible. And of course he knows exactly where, chapter and verse, because he’s Sam Winchester. It translates as Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking who he may devour. WELL. If that doesn’t send chills down a Winchester’s spine.

Dean and Mary get to Donatellotown (sorry, Donny, I do not remember where you live), where there’s snow on the ground. When they enter the house, they can hear the prophet calling for help. But it turns out it’s just a recording on a phone, with no Donatello in sight. And who walks out of the kitchen but Nick, wearing Donatello’s apron. Well, at least he saved the cookies. Dean cuffs him and Mary goes to search the rest of the house.

“So it’s just you?” Nick asks. “Sammy’s home sick?” And on first watch this is just Nick being Nick. But on rewatch… maybe not. It’s interesting that Dean (and I guess all of the extended TFW) had no idea he’d escaped from prison. Mary finds no Donatello, but she did find Nick’s discarded syringe in the trash. He tells them he injected Donatello with thalium, which will cause his organs to shut down in a day. Just to get their attention. He tells Dean to hit the livestream button on the not-really-Donatello phone, and it shows a video of Donatello, tied up and gagged, sitting on a concrete floor somewhere. “You can save him if you can find him.” Dean pulls a gun on him, but Nick’s not afraid of being killed, because 1) that means Donatello would die, so he knows Dean won’t do it, and b) he has nothing to live for anyway. He wants to talk.

Bunker. Nick is still handcuffed, being led down the hall by Dean in slow motion. Sam and Jack are coming from the other direction. Sam looks anxious, so I assume he knows who’s coming, and when he lays eyes on Nick he <i>snarls</i> and grabs him and throws him against the wall and I’m not a fan of the weird slo-mo thing they’re doing here but otherwise? Angry Sam assaulting Nick? I am HERE FOR THAT. Dean pulls him off and says “not now, not yet,” which sounds like he is perfectly fine with Nick being assaulted but now is not the time. Sam makes a frustrated face and stomps off, and Mary and Jack look upset.

(All gifs were stolen from @itsokaysammy and I apologize for not inserting them the usual way, with the automatic credit, but Tumblr wouldn’t cooperate.)

Dean having to get all handsy, holding Sam back? I am here for THAT as well.

War room. Sam wonders what kind of game Nick was playing, just sitting there waiting for Dean. And he doesn’t even know Donatello. “Lucifer did,” Dean points out, and we could spend some time wondering how much bleed there was between Lucifer and his vessel, how much Nick saw, how much of Lucifer’s thoughts he was exposed to, how much he absorbed. We might want to do that later. But right now, Mary reminds us that Donatello is in danger, and Smart!Sam knows the antidote for thallium is something they already have on hand, Prussian blue, which sounds like a breed of cat but really is the antidote for thallium poisoning. And I suppose Sam could have looked it up on Wikipedia earlier, just like I did, but I choose to believe he just knew. He also thinks he might be able to hack the location of the live feed, but he doesn’t know if they have enough time, and if I were so inclined, I’d comment about Sam’s intermittent hacking abilities, where he’s a hacking genius one day, and the next day Charlie needs to look smart so he needs Charlie to tell him how to hack into a bank. But I’m not going to comment on any of Sam’s intermittent abilities right now. Maybe later.

Well, Nick wanted to talk, so Dean thinks it’s time to talk. “Oh yeah, let’s talk,” Sam says enthusiastically, and I think he means talk with his fists. And for the second time in this episode, Dean lays a hand on him and stops him from going after Nick and once again, I’m here for it. So much. Angry vengeful Sam is really doing it for me. “The way you are right now,” he says, “if Nick looks at you wrong, you’re gonna waste him. That can’t happen.” Which doesn’t really sound like Sam, but yeah, he has been pushed to the edge, so okay. Sam once again accepts the promise that he can get to Nick “later,” and Mary once again looks concerned.

After Dean leaves, Sam tells Mary that he’s the reason Donatello is in this and a police offer is dead. “I’m the one who let Nick go, I’m the one…” and he can’t even finish, he just looks up in frustration and despair with tears in his eyes. “What was I thinking?” (Sidebar: Did Sam really “let Nick go?” Nick actually left the bunker while Cas was “babysitting” him at Sam’s request. Discuss.) Mary tries to get him not to blame himself, saying he couldn’t have known, and he says “that’s not an excuse.” OH SAM. “You gave him a chance because you felt for him,” she says. “Because you’re a good man.” (What do we think about this? Do we think that’s the only, or even the main reason Sam felt sorry for Nick? Or was it because he was also Lucifer’s vessel? Are we supposed to believe Mary actually knows his motivation, or is this yet another example of her Not Getting what’s going on in her sons’ heads? Or is it just bad writing?) Sam obviously doesn’t believe he’s a good man, and she repeats “You are; it’s one of the reasons I’m so proud of you.” Aw Sammy. Closure with Dad, approval from Mom. Kind of a parallel, isn’t it?

The way Sam keeps looking up, in an apparent attempt to not cry, is simultaneously killing me and giving me life.

Cut to Dean punching Nick in the dungeon. Ah, Grand Inquisitor Dean. Always a favorite. Nick says he and Dean are almost like brothers because of the Michael and Lucifer thing. “You’re not the same after something like that, are you? Being one, with one of them. Changes you. Makes you more than human.” Huh. This reminds me of that one guy in season 7 who wanted his possessing demon back. Anyway, Nick wants to see “my son.”

His son? I say. “His son?” Mary says. Is Nick actually Lucifer? Are we going there? Dean is totally against it. Jack asks Sam, because AS WE ALL KNOW, Sam is Jack’s primary dad. Dean is angry that Sam’s not immediately against it, but as Sam points out, Nick is locked down and not a threat (“he’s always a threat,” Mary says, and for once I agree with her), and they’re running out of time. I don’t really like the juxtaposition of these scenes. Moments ago, Sam blamed himself for everything Nick has done and castigated himself for being stupid enough to “let him go.” And now he’s all, he’s not a threat. If I were writing this, Sam would have said yes, it’s risky and I’m not happy about it, but I don’t think we have any other way to save Donatello. And Jack would have gone in with a phone in his pocket on speaker so Sam could hear everything that happened. But I didn’t write this. So.

Jack walks into the dungeon and demands to know where Donatello is. Nick is impressed by his spunk and says it comes from his father.

My father was a monster

Everybody’s a monster. Even your three dads. How many innocent people you think they’ve killed?

Okay, we know I love any reference to Jack’s three dads, so thank you for that, Nick. And also, yes, he’s right. They’ve killed a lot of innocent people. Lots of not-so-innocent people too, but yeah, there’s a lot of collateral damage out there.

Nick also tells Jack “He loved you. You know that? He did. I felt it. He loved you so much, and you broke his heart.” And we knew Lucifer said he loved Jack, but it’s interesting to get confirmation that he truly did. As well as confirmation that Nick felt all of Lucifer’s emotions. Nick then clarifies that he was talking about “the old you, the you with a soul,” because he heard all of that from Donatello. Oh, for a minute there, I thought Nick could detect souls. Jack says he has a soul but Nick eggs him on and then Jack gets in his face and I guess has a sudden angry outburst of nosebleed? It’s hard to tell what’s going on. But Jack’s blood is all over his face, and his shirt, and Nick’s shirt. Hope that washes out. Oh, don’t need it, he takes care of all of it with his glowy-eyed power. Nick is afraid of him now. Unless he’s lying. But why would Nick lie?

Jack steps out of the dungeon and tells his assembled fathers and grandmother that Nick will tell them where Donatello is. Sam wraps his arms around himself uncomfortably. Next we see the brothers and Nick in the Impala, driving through the night. Sidebar: Donatello’s hometown of Lewis (yeah, I looked it up) doesn’t exist, according to Mapquest, but elsewhere on the Internets one can learn that it’s a “township” near Tushka, Oklahoma, which is almost an 8 hour drive from Lebanon. I wonder where Lucifer stashed him? In Lewis, or closer to Lebanon? Not that it matters. Carrying on.

When the guys get to Nick’s hidey hole, it’s daylight and it’s snowing. Dean and Sam both threaten that Sam will shoot Nick if he does anything, Sam hands Dean the antidote, and Dean goes off on his own. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Meanwhile, in the bunker, Jack sees Mary going through the pile of stuff she carried back from Donatello’s house for some reason, and recognizes that the hypodermic syringe held angel grace. Wait. Grace? Not thallium? Nick lied? Color me shocked.

Sam’s sitting in the Impala with Nick, who is doing his best to be as annoying as Lucifer, and poor Sam looks like he wants to shoot either Nick or himself. He gets a call from Mary, and while he gets out of the car to talk to her, we see Nick has produced a something from somewhere and is picking at his handcuffs. Sam yanks the car door open, waves his gun at Nick, and orders him out of the car, because he knows that will make for a more dramatic and attractive confrontation. (Hey, I’m not complaining, I’m just pointing it out.) He tells Nick he knows about the grace and asks him why. Nick explains that prophets are like “old CB radios,” and Sam knows that means he was trying to communicate with someone, and who could THAT be? Because Lucifer is dead, right? Well, yeah, if dead means awake, in the empty, and able to tell Nick how to bring him back using Jack’s blood. “Come on, Sam,“ Nick says. "Nobody stays dead any more. You know that.” Well, obviously Nick has been watching our show!

Nick reveals that demons have been hiding him, and obtained the angel grace for him, because they’re as anxious to have Lucifer back as he is. It’s your own fault, Sam. You denied them a leader. What did you expect them to do? Sam’s standing there, holding a gun on Nick, and I’m going “shoot him, shoot him, dammit” and then Nick’s handcuffs fall to the ground so Sam shoots him in the head. Oh no, he doesn’t. He yells for Dean, who is in the warehouse, many yards away.(And it’s not even a Bucklemming episode.) They start punching each other, so I guess Sam drops his gun? He does end up pinning Nick, with his hands around his throat, so it looks like Sammy’s gonna win this one. But he stops before Nick even loses consciousness (SAM! HAVE YOU STILL LEARNED NOTHING FROM THE WHOLE THING WITH JAKE?), because Sam is extremely skilled and efficient at hand-to-hand combat, except when he’s mysteriously NOT.

This gives Nick the opportunity to reach for a rock and bash his head in. Sam is dazed, and Nick throws him against the car (and we know hitting a hard object with your back and shoulders knocks you unconscious, we’ve seen it many times) and taunts him. “Lucifer’s perfect vessel. You aren’t so perfect now, are you?” Oooooooh, wait. Is Nick jealous? Jealous of Sam being the perfect vessel? Has Nick been feeling Lucifer’s thoughts about Sam for all these years, feeling how much he preferred his perfect vessel, and gnashing his jealous little teeth? And if so, why couldn’t we have had 17 episodes of that? Why is this delightful tidbit just coming to light NOW?

Dazed Sam manages to get in the car and lock the doors, and as Nick pounds on the window, he frantically honks the horn. Now, some folks on Tumblr think he was trying to warn Dean, but I think he’s calling for help. Desperately, frantically calling for help.

As this is happening, Dean enters the warehouse (an abandoned warehouse? imagine that!), oblivious to a couple of shadowy figures watching him. He sees Donatello, and then hears Sam call him, but is attacked by demons just as that happens. He does, finally, conquer his demons by way of the angel blade. Donatello manages to free himself during the melee, and they run outside. Nick is gone and Sam has managed to get out of the car, but not to stand up. Dean runs up to him and there’s some panicky “Sammy!” and looking around as if there’s someone or something there to help, and Sam broken and bloody on the ground, just the way I like it.

Hi, my name is Caranfindel and I have a problem.

As Nick yanks a guy out of his truck and makes his getaway, Dean calls Mary and tells her what happened. “He hurt Sam, he got him in the head. I don’t even wanna move him. We called an ambulance but they said twenty minutes. It’s not good, Mom, it’s really bad.” I didn’t even get that this was supposed to be a serious head injury until this point. I mean, obviously it would be serious in real life, but in Supernatural life, Sam gets knocked unconscious on a regular basis and suffers no ill effects, and I thought this was just going to be another one of those.

Nick breaks into a cabin and sets up his little Lucifer spell. (It’s a good thing - or a bad thing - that this abandoned cabin had an ample supply of salt, and apparently everything else Nick needs besides Jack’s blood.) When he lights a fire, Jack reacts in the bunker, saying it feels like his blood is burning. And he can feel him. He can get to him. He says he needs to use his powers, and Mary says “do it,” and I had forgotten that he promised not to use them without permission. Nick chants the spell and Lucifer appears, and for once, the effect is actually pretty cool and not cheesy. He’s a swirling black snake-like mass, lit from within. He’s still got that Terminator face, but it’s mostly hidden by the rest of it, so that’s good.

“I’m here, I’m ready,” says Nick. “Your vessel, your perfect vessel. Make me strong again. Make me you.” Perfect vessel? I don’t THINK so, Nick. Not in your wildest dreams. (And I appreciate another reference to Nick wanting what Sam has.) Lucifer reaches for him, but just before he can touch him, Jack and Mary show up and Jack zaps him out of existence. So, Jack gets to kill Michael and Lucifer? Seems unfair. Jack mutilates Nick’s outreached hand and then sets him on fire, with Mary yelling at him to stop. So, it looks like Nick’s dead, but I’ve been fooled before. And that makes it three for Jack and zero for Sam. If you’re keeping track.

Over at Nick’s hidey hole warehouse, Dean is in full-on “it’s not even that bad” mode. He holds a bandanna against Sam’s cracked-open head and tries t get him to count with him, but he only gets to two before Sam decides it’s time to say goodbye. “You always put me first,” he says, between raspy breaths. “Your whole life.” (I had to resort to closed-captioning to understand that last bit.) And then he goes limp and Dean gets even more panicky and face-patty.

This is not fair, Sammy. You just died on me last season.

Back at Nick’s cabin, Mary tells Jack to go help Sam. He zaps over to the Impala and is horrified to see his favorite (I know it, you know it) father dying. He puts a hand on Sam’s face and heals him, and as Sam gasps back to life, Dean quickly helps him to his feet and then even more quickly turns away and puts a hand to his face because he can’t do this, he can’t let anyone see how emotional he is, he needs a second to compose himself, he’s going to burst out sobbing or screaming or something and he just has to turn away and godDAMN this is such a good acting choice on Jensen’s part. I love it. We need to watch it some more.

And more and more.

Sam asks about Nick and Mary and Jack tells them he stopped Nick, and Mary is fine. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Narrator: Everything was NOT going to be fine.

Back at the cabin, Mary’s quietly freaking out. Jack zaps back and tells her he healed Sam and everything’s okay (ha ha no), but she’s obviously not happy. Apparently her concern isn’t that Jack killed Nick, but that he did it “like that.” Oh, come on, Mary. Get off your high horse. You seemed to enjoy a bit of “interrogation” back in the day with the BMoL. This isn’t that different. Jack begs her to tell him he did okay, but she refuses. “It’s not your fault, but the Jack I know would never have done that.” Well, I have to disagree, but I can’t think of any real evidence right now.

“If Sam and Dean saw what you did,” she says, “they would be as worried as I am.” Hi, Mary, have you met your son Dean, the Grand Inquisitor from earlier in the episode? Or your other son Sam, the sweet kind gentle giant who was ready to beat Nick to a pulp? Dean had to physically restrain him from pummeling Nick TWICE, and only managed it by promising he could have him “later.” But anyway. She promises they’ll help Jack, because they’re family, but he yells at her to leave him alone and grabs his head and she can NOT take a hint and finally his eyes glow gold and he says “LEAVE ME ALONE” one more time and boom. The screen goes black and we hear “…Mary?”

(Me, to The Husband: “Mary’s gone? Well, I guess this was a good episode after all!”)

Well, that explains why we’ve had so much Mary-and-sons bonding and mutual appreciation in this episode. I mean, it didn’t make me care any more about her being gone, but, okay. And there were a lot of things I could have done without. The guys being separated. Cas’s endless B-plot. Sam not shooting Nick, and losing a fight he really should have won. But these things brought me hurt/dying Sam and frantic Dean, so I accept them. And I’m disappointed that Sam never got his “later” with Nick, and once again he didn’t get to kill Lucifer, but at least SOMEBODY did, and you’ve gotta love that. And we got angry-vengeful Sam and trying-not-to-cry Sam and Grand Inquisitor Dean, so. That makes up for a lot of nonsense.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

#spn #14.17 #spoilers #hurt sam #hurt!sam

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muggle-writes · 6 years ago

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Rules: Answer 21 questions and then tag 21 people who you want to get to know better.

tagged by @elizabethsyson

Nickname: Muggle is my nickname, but when I went by Muggle in person for more than a month at a time, it naturally got abbreviated, usually to Mugz

Zodiac: Aquarius

Last movie I saw: into the spiderverse (same answer as last time. I don't watch that many movies tbh except around Christmas. unless YouTube counts in which case... music of some sort? idk links for the next answer)

Favorite musician: changes by the day. I've kinda been in an acapella and/or folk music mood recently so the Maccabeats and Peter Hollens are in my YouTube and Spotify history a lot recently. also I'm eternally in awe of Forte Handbell Quartet (eta a longer video; i recommend skipping to the techno piece or the Jurassic Park theme)

Last thing I googled: "vine why are you buying clothes at the soup store" (my wife hasn't seen it; also i can't find the vine because apparently it's a much bigger meme than I realized). before that it was "chgrp not root" because work and group permissions are useful when they work

Song stuck in my head: well for most of the day when I haven't been actively listening to something, it's been the Pokemon RSE route-walking music. (but that somehow happens frequently when I'm in the no-music-no-internet room at work, as I was for most of the day, and I don't know how I accidentally trained my brain to make that connection). right now, surprisingly, I don't have any background music playing in my head. I think it's because the humidifier provides just enough white noise that my brain doesn't feel the need to provide its own

Other blogs: my main is @muggle-the-hat and I'm a mod on @why-do-neurotypicals but we've gotten one ask ever so that blog has been dormant for a while. I have a bunch of other sideblogs, but they're all small and I use different screen names on each of them (enby life: no idea which name suits me best so I may as well try them out) so i feel like it would just confuse things to link them.

Following: blogs matching all the themes of my sideblogs, (including this one, which is writeblr), korean langblr, jumblr, assorted fandom blogs, authors of my more favorite fanfictions (some overlap with other categories), and irl friends and acquaintances (including one fandom blog turned irl friend)

Do I get asks: on my main if at all, which isn't really surprising because i have hundreds of followers there and maybe 60 followers combined among the rest. but I get asks far less often than I reblog ask memes so... I'm always happy to get more. I do get tagged in ask games more on this one, but writeblr is actually vaguely organized about tag lists so that makes sense. also I used to get tagged a bunch on my main and I rarely could find the posts again to follow up when I had time to answer.

What I’m Wearing: pajamas. staying warm and cozy

Lucky number: I don't remember what I said last time, but I like a lot of numbers. 64 is a good number. recently I've been debugging software in which 0x3E is my lucky status number and 0x0E taunts me. (um, decimal 62 and 14). Also my other favorite number i can't share until it's no longer the combination to the lock to the Secret Room. (or realistically never because opsec and i shouldn't make public the types of parents we use for that combination lock), honestly I aim to be like.... ah, I'm sure the anecdote involves G.H. Hardy but i don't remember on which side. anyway one mathematician remarked to another about how the id number of the taxi he rode in was sadly uninteresting, and the one I aspire to be like, argued "what are you talking about, this number is interesting because ______" and I'd like to be able to do that for any arbitrary number thrown at me. (hi yes math is good, history is hard, math history is interesting yet i still forget the people even if i remember the math. except when things are named after people, but that tends to be, like, Euler and LaGrange and other people who did lots of cool science things so i remember the methods and the names of the methods separately which never helps)

Amount of sleep: ....depression both screws with my sleep schedule and means I always feel like I need more sleep except when I wake up at 5pm and feel like I've wasted the day. so yeah. I can never get enough sleep

Favorite food: yes (why do I have to pick a favorite?) uh, chocolate in most forms, many other sweet things, red meats (especially if served with potatoes), curry (especially if it has "too much" ginger), fresh-baked bread, chai the way my favorite local Indian restaurant makes it (spicier with just a little bit of sweet, which is the opposite of what i can get from the mocha machine at work which is wayyy sweet with a hint of spice but that inferior chai is still superior to coffee so i drink too much of it). also vegetables which I really don't eat enough of: sauteed zucchini and onions, roasted broccoli

Dream trip: dreaming requires creativity and tbh I funnel that mostly into my writing instead. I wouldn't mind going back to Korea for another visit though

Dream job: my current job is pretty good when I feel productive and when my debugging tools actually produce data maybe??? (they were not being helpful today. but i still mostly like my job.) dream job is probably this but with seniority and confidence and double the salary (while living in a similar area of the country; I wouldn't want to double my salary by moving to work for Google in California and having less available after rent than I do now)

Describe yourself as aesthetic things:

the smell of old books

the first glow of sunrise (the sunrise painting the mountains pink and gold)

a rainbow in the spray from a waterfall

the flicker of distant lightning (watching a thunderstorm fade into the distance)

this picture

Random fact: about me or about the world?

how about a combination answer: when we got our new handbell music this season, we only looked at half the pieces our first rehearsal and afterwards I tried to look up one of the pieces we hadn't gotten to on YouTube because it's got a weird time signature and I wanted to get a feel for how fast it would go and how strict the counting is...... except it turns out we're the first group to ever play the piece. it was commissioned recently but seeing my conductor's name on the page didn't tell me how new it was because he's super prolific. (the fact that it was on printer paper without the publisher's graphics should have been a giveaway but it's only the second time I've been among the first to play one of his pieces so I think I can be excused for not realizing)

Languages: mostly just English, but I took Spanish for years, so I can hold simple conversations in it. I can almost read sound out Hebrew fast enough to keep up in services, and I know some random Hebrew vocab but comparatively no grammar. and I took Korean in college, enough that I can recognize sentence structure but I can really only speak tourist-Korean, though I can sound anything out (if it's typed. handwriting is hit or miss.) in both Hebrew and Korean (and Spanish tbh but i don't often listen to Spanish music) I'm very proud when I can separate the words enough, listening to a song, to translate them without looking up the lyrics. also I tried to learn Japanese from Duolingo when it was new, but I still hadn't gotten the kana straight when it started progressing to kanji so that was a rough time and I went back to Hebrew.

tbh I "dabble" in "language learning" which really means I start a million courses on Duo and stick with none of them. with the notable exception of French, which I acknowledge is super common and probably a good idea to learn but the spelling and pronunciation seem so arbitrary I'm scared to look close enough to learn it properly, and I've never particularly considered starting the Duolingo course for French

I think I lost a few questions, because that's only 18 answers. whoops.

um... who to tag

@abluescarfonwaston if school hasn't drowned you in work yet and @copperscales I'm interested in both of your choices for lucky numbers especially.

... wow I'm blanking on other mutuals I haven't tagged recently. as usual lmk if you'd like to be edited in, or just answer the questions and tag me back, that's great too.

#tag games #i really like that 'describe yourself' question can we keep that around as a poetry prompt?#i think you also tagged me in a 'last line' tag game but i still haven't written anything #my creative energy has been (a) low and (b) directed specifically into generating matching titles for my purimgifts fics #i'll participate if i still remember by the time i'm doing 'real' writing again or you can just tag me the next time that game comes around

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