#BRING BACK JACK FOR NEWTON

[hoarder-of-dragons]

Dream Good Omens Movie plot

First 10 mins of obliterating Metatron and saving the World (again).

Next 80 mins is just them, in their South Downs cottage with montages of selecting the furniture and wallpapers with Aziraphale dragging Crowley around, Crowley pretending to be upset but not so subtly giving his two piece of fashion advice. Show me the duo bringing the plants and settling in their home. Give me a long drawn out apology and confessions. Give me the tears and fluff and their happy beginning.

[fellshish]

Fourteen lusting after isaac newton means we really need to bring jack harkness back STAT

[reasoningdaily]

16 Black Innovators Who Changed Food Forever

Macaroni and cheese. Ice cream. French fries. Jack Daniel's whisky. Frozen foods in general.

We wouldn't have any of the above foods, plus many others, were it not for Black food innovators and figureheads that have made significant contributions and altered the way we eat and make food today.

Below are just some of the stories of these incredibly talented and inspiring individuals. Some of these names came from research via the New York Times and Food and Wine, but we've also included historical sourcing and context for each person as well. You can click on their names to view those original pieces.

Nathan "Nearest" Green

Known as "Uncle Nearest," Nathan Green was a skilled distiller who mastered the "Lincoln County" process. This method of distilling is thought by food historians and whiskey experts alike to have been brought in by slaves, and uses charcoal to filter and purify foods. The "Lincoln County" process, in particular, uses sugar maple charcoal to filter bourbon.

Green trained hired hand Jasper Newton Daniel (known to the world as "Jack Daniel") while working on a priest's distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee. Daniel eventually made him the first master distiller of Jack Daniel's, the famous Tennessee whisky many people drink today.

While Jack Daniel's shares the story of Green on their website, an all minority-led whisky brand named "Uncle Nearest" continues to build upon his legacy with spirits that use the same distilling technique, but feature Green's name on the bottle.

While Thomas Jefferson is sometimes credited with bringing foods like mac & cheese and ice cream to the United States, Hemings was the one who actually learned to make them. A slave in the ownership of Jefferson prior to his presidency, Hemings traveled with him to France in 1784 specifically to learn the art of French cuisine.

Hemings became the first American trained as a French chef in history as a result, bringing back several dishes to the United States. French fries, ice cream, macaroni and cheese, creme brulee, French meringues, and French whipped cream are just a few examples. These dishes and others would be incorporated in Hemings' signature half-French, half-Virginian style of cooking he became renowned for.

Hemings would later also cook one of the most famous dinners in American history: the one between Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton that settled who would pay for the Revolutionary War and established Washington, D.C. as the United States' capital. He eventually was freed by Jefferson in 1796.

Zephyr Wright

Zephyr Wright was the personal chef for President Lyndon B. Johnson and his family for over twenty years. It was her cooking that made the Johnson household a popular one for D.C. dinner parties.

Wright would follow Johnson to the White House during his tenure, and was in charge of the home cooking in the White House kitchen. She would also temporarily cook all meals, including VIP ones, in between the tenures of two White House Executive Chefs.

Wright is thought to have heavily influenced Johnson's support for the Civil Rights Act of 1964,. Wright was known to have spoken up to the President during his time in Congress about the injustices she faced road tripping between Texas and D.C. during congressional recesses, saying that she was not allowed to use the bathroom in areas she was driving through, and couldn't stop off and eat at restaurants. President Johnson reportedly used some of her stories to convince Congress to sign the bill. He would also give her a White House pen when the act was signed into law.

Leah Chase

The Queen of Creole Cuisine, Leah Chase was the heart and soul of Dooky Chase's restaurant in New Orleans across seven decades. Known for her fried chicken, red beans and rice, gumbo, and other classics, Chase started out in the 1940s when she got a job as a server at a restaurant. She eventually took over the helm and made it a safe haven for anyone to come and eat at.

Dooky Chase's was known as one of the few places that it was publicly okay for races to mix at, since the cops wouldn't bother activists inside the restaurant. Thus, leaders of the Civil Rights Movement, including local leaders and national ones like Martin Luther King Jr., would often strategize while eating there.

Chase would go on to serve presidents like Barack Obama and George W. Bush, along with Associate Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall and other influential figures. Disney has even made a movie with a character inspired by her: Princess Tiana of Princess and the Frog.

Abby Fisher

Around the early 1880s, Abby Fisher was known for her award-winning pickles and the Mrs. Abby Fisher Pickle Company in San Francisco. She had at least 35 years of cooking experience, some estimates had it, and the awards she won for her food reflected that.

However, Fisher is probably best known for publishing one of the first cookbooks ever authored by an African-American woman. The book, called What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking, contains over 160 recipes and uses the dictated words of Fisher herself.

The cookbook surged in popularity in the late 20th century when a publisher began reprinting it in 1995. Today, it offers a window into these early recipes that places like museums try to recreate for guests to sample.

Edna Lewis

Edna Lewis became a legend while she cooked at Cafe Nicholson in Midtown Manhattan starting in 1949. Her fame and Southern recipes led to guests like Marlon Brando, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Salvador Dali showing up for dinner. After stepping away from the chef's role (as an active partner) in 1952, she would lecture at the American Museum of Natural History while working as a chef and private caterer.

Lewis would later become inspired to write her first cookbook as demand for them grew in 1972. She was one of the first African-American women from the South that would publish a cookbook that did not hide her name, gender, or race. She would go on to publish more in the future, eventually becoming known as the Grand Dame and Grand Doyenne of Southern cooking.

Larry James and Jereline Bethune

The Bethune family, to this day, runs Brenda's Bar-Be-Que Pit in Montgomery, Alabama. Open since 1942, the restaurant would become an important hub for those in the Civil Rights Movement.

After Rosa Parks infamously refused to give up her seat on a Montgomery bus, Larry James and Jereline Bethune were instrumental in using their restaurant to organize bus boycott efforts around the city. As the movement continued and literacy test laws (meant to curtail the Black vote) were introduced, Jereline would also quietly hold lessons teaching other African-Americans how to read. They were then able to pass these literacy tests and go out and vote.

Alfred L. Cralle

Ice cream today would not be the same without the work of Alfred Cralle. Born just after the Civil War, he had an affinity for mechanics as a young age, and would go study at Wayland Seminary, a school set up after the Civil War to educate newly freed African-Americans.

Cralle would go on to work as a porter at a drugstore and a hotel in Philadelphia, and developed the idea of the ice cream scoop while watching people struggle using two different spoons to get the ice cream into cones. Cralle's mechanical inventional, which is the basis of how ice cream scoops work to this day, was invented in 1897.

Cralle would also become a successful promoter of businesses in Philly, and was the assistant manager of the Afro-American Financial, Accumulating, Merchandise, and Business Association in Pittsburgh.

Ever heard the story of how potato chips were invented to spite a customer at a restaurant? George Crum was the chef at said restaurant, the Moon Lake Lodge resort in Saratoga Springs. A customer came in around the summer of 1853 wanting extra-thin French Fries, frustrating Crum to the point he sliced them as thin as possible, fried them in grease, and sent them out.

The chips became a big hit, eventually becoming known as "Saratoga Chips." While Crum never patented the dish, he did open his own restaurant, "Crumbs House," that served a basket of them at every table.

Chips wouldn't become a grocery product until 1895, and the concept of bagged chips didn't show up until 1926.

Joseph Lee was one of the most influential people when it came to industrializing the way we make bread.

Having worked in a bakery from a young age, Lee eventually became the owner of two restaurants in Boston, as well as a hotel and a catering company. Looking to find a way to minimize bread waste, he eventually invented a machine that would convert day-old bread into breadcrumbs. Patented in 1895, he later sold the rights and the breadcrumb maker would spread across the world.

That wasn't Lee's only invention, however. He would later patent the idea for an automatic bread maker that mixed and kneaded the dough, the basis to the same devices (think, stand mixers) that we still use in our kitchens today.

Lloyd Hall is considered to be one of the pioneers in the world of food chemistry. A pharmaceutical chemist for Griffith Laboratories in Chicago who completed graduate school, Hall would be awarded over 100 patents and received multiple honorary doctorate degrees for his work.

Hall's main area of work came around the development of techniques to preserve food. Some of his most revolutionary patents included using  "flash-dried" salt crystals that revolutionized meatpacking. He also introduced the use of antioxidants to prevent the spoilage of fats and oils in baked goods, and developed a process known as "Ethylene Oxide Vacugas," which could control the growth of bacteria and molds in food.

John Standard was an inventor instrumental in modernizing two pieces of kitchen equipment that virtually every household has today: stoves and refrigerators.

Refrigeration was a concept that was being researched as early as the 1830s, but mainly focused on using some sort of power. Standard's improvement to the fridge, patented in 1891, was an unpowered design that used a manually filled ice chamber as the central cooling unit.

Standard also made significant upgrades to the oil-powered stove, patenting one with a space-saving design in 1889 that could be used in applications like buffet-style meals on trains.

If you've worked in the food industry or any commercial transportation that required keeping stuff cold, you've likely seen the Thermo King brand somewhere in your lifetime. Frederick McKinley Jones was the founder of that company, and inventor of the first automated refrigerated system for trucks.

A skilled and gifted electrician and mechanic, Jones had patents for sixty different inventions across a wide variety of fields, including the portable X-ray machine, motion picture devices, and even medical storage units.

He's most known for the Thermo King, the refrigerated system he invented, because it allowed for fresh goods from around the world to be transported and sold in stores. Jones is essentially responsible for not just all refrigerated transport globally, but also the entire frozen food industry.

Known as the "Oyster King of New York," Downing was most known for his 19th-century restaurant, Thomas Downing's Oyster House. His oyster hall was legendary, with prominent figures like Queen Victoria and Charles Dickens having dined there.

Downing was born a free man, as his parents were freed by plantation owner John Downing. He grew up and was educated on Chincoteague Island in Virginia, and eventually made his way up to New York following the war of 1812. Like many other African-Americans in New York, Downing eventually went into the oyster business, opening his own oyster cellar in the 1820s.

Oyster cellars were the universal food of New York at the time (similar to hot dogs today), but many establishments weren't as trusted as Downing's. That's because he specifically catering it towards the fine dining clientele, with a large dining area, carpet, and chandeliers gracing the hall. Elaborate dishes like oyster-stuffed turkeys and a pan roast made with wine and chili graced the menu.

This, at the time, meant that African-Americans couldn't eat Downing's restaurant, but few were aware of the double life he led. Downing's basement was a key stop in the Underground Railroad, and as an abolitionist, he helped many that were escaping the South in search of freedom. He also led political efforts, funding schools for African-American children and leading the fight in desegregating New York's trolley system.

Downing was so regarded in New York that when he passed away in 1866, the New York City Chamber of Commerce closed so that its members could attend his funeral.

The sugar industry in the United States has Norbert Rillieux to thank for allowing them to become so powerful. Were it not for his inventions, making sugar would still be a time-consuming and dangerous process.

Originally, the sugar refinement process, known as "The Jamaica Train," was dangerous and expensive. Laborers (usually slaves) would transfer ladles of scalding hot sugar case juice between open boiling kettles, often resulting in scalding and terrible burns (anyone who's worked with sugar knows how painful it can be). The result was a dark syrup that was molded into cones and dried before being sold.

From  1834-1843, Rillieux developed a system for refining and crystallizing sugar using a much safer and controlled method, allowing the United States to eventually dominate the sugar market. His process is still used today for freeze-drying food, pigments, and other food products.

Many people know George Washington Carver for the myriad of products he invented that utilized peanuts or sweet potatoes. As an agricultural scientist working in the South, he was also a man responsible for helping revitalize much of the economy in that region.

Working out of the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, Carver was a teacher and a researcher from the late 1890s until his passing in 1943. An early pioneer of crop rotation, he encouraged farmers to plant peanuts in the soil after harvest to replenish lost nutrients, helping farmers improve not just their livelihoods, but their diets as well.

Carver's research and work focused on revitalizing soil and maximizing plant production while keeping costs to a minimum. Outside of agriculture, he was a massive promoter of racial equality, and massive advocate of peanut oil as a potential treatment for polio. While never proven, the claim was widely circulated in media, and eventually turned into a "Peanuts for Polio" fundraising effort that helped raise money for medical care and benefits for children affected with the disease.

Following Carver's passing, then-Senator Harry S. Truman sponsored legislation that would lead to the construction of the George Washington Carver National Monument. It was the first-ever national memorial to an African-American.

[satureja13]

Ji Ho is worried because the bond drags Vlad and him together. He knows that Vlad loves him and it must be hard for him to endure that Ji Ho wants to be around him all the time even though he does not love Vlad - but Luci. After Ji Ho used the bond to call Vlad for help, it got even worse. The bond wants them to get physical ö.ö They hugged - twice - at the snow festival even though they never really talked to each other or touched (only when Vlad claimed Ji Ho and when they tightened the bond).

Giga: “That’s nothing to worry about. The bond needs to get charged. After such an extreme strain even more. That can be done in different ways. Usually with the love between the two bonded. Weaker bonds between vampires and their servants by drinking their servant’s blood. But that’s impossible in your case because it would kill Vlad. Since you don’t love Vlad, the only thing left is physical contact.” Jack: “But don’t worry. Vlad likes it! Look, he didn’t even complain when I kissed him when we rehearsed. And? Did he complain after you tightened the bond?” Ji Ho: “Uhm - no?” Jack: “See! He’s quite a cuddler!” (Jack’s logic is brain twisting... and Vlad did complain when Jack kissed him! omg)

Vlad is determined that the next book he’s going to read will be ‘1000 ways to kill your best friend’... (of course he overheard it - as always)

When they finally fell asleep (!) Vlad went over to bring Ji Ho his new Simmi figure. (Vlad often gives Ji Ho secretly presents because he knows Ji Ho would feel uncomfortable if he would give them to him openly. The Ewok on Ji Ho’s bed is a present from Vlad too.)

After all that happened Ji Ho worries about him and his feelings... and since Kiyoshi burned the mixture, he can’t even bring Luci back for Ji Ho to comfort him.

TMI: Vlad got Yamachan Simmi first ö.ö So he bought another one instead...

Poor Ji Ho. He evolved new fear thanks to Yamachan’s Party ;-;

Soundtrack on youtube: Physical - Olivia Newton John

I've been patient, I've been good Tried to keep my hands on the table It's gettin' hard this holdin' back If you know what I mean Let's get physical, physical I wanna get physical Let's get into physical Let me hear your body talk, your body talk Let me hear your body talk

From the Beginning   ~  Underwater Love   ~  Latest

[aintgonnatakethis]

for the WIP game:

Cupiosexual James Bond - June: Mermaids

What Big Teeth You Have

Thanks for the ask! 😄

Cupiosexual James Bond - June: Mermaids

Part of The Aspec Year challenge, which I'd encourage everyone to get involved in, as the world needs more aspec writing! I've written a decent amount of ace and aro characters, so was wondering about microlabels, as I myself identify as aegosexual. I found cupiosexual, which means someone who doesn't experience sexual attraction but still wants sexual relationship and my brain instantly matched it up with Bond.

There's definitely a discussion to be had around him having had sexual attraction at one point, but due to the frankly abusive job he has to endure on a daily basis, he no longer does. Bodies being a tool is something I've talked about a lot for other characters (specifically David Telford from SGU) and the damage it does to a person's psyche, where they begin to view themselves as a tool and not even a person… Yeah, that's the good shit!

I'm not sure if I'll be going the angst route with this fic - it's my aim but you know how The Characters can be! Anyway I've started it off with Bond bringing Q gifts from his deployments, as I can never get enough of that idea.

It had started roughly six months ago, gifts beginning to appear on Q's desk without anything attached that could give him a clue as to who his sudden benefactor was. There didn't appear to be a pattern in temperament or price. A stuffed elephant one time, a box of the finest Cuban cigars the next, followed by a Newton's cradle with tiny cats hanging off the outermost balls, followed by a puzzle box intricate enough to flummox Q for a record two days - a flattened Roman coin inside - followed by a gigantic cat tree, still contained in its four large boxes. Q had questioned his staff and actually believed them when they swore they hadn't seen who'd left them, even if it seemed nigh on impossible to smuggle so many metre-and-a-half square boxes through the bowels of MI6 without anyone noticing.

What Big Teeth You Have

I've already discussed this one a bit here, but the Telford werewolf idea is an idea completely owned by @judgeverse and I'm merely borrowing it! As I talked about how it ended up in the cracky side of things on the other ask, here I'll post what I was aiming for when I started: some homoerotic violence!

Young's eyes flashed dangerously, his voice very low when he next spoke. "You get one chance to leave under your own power." The back of Rush's neck prickled with warning, but he found himself incapable of backing away from the challenge laid in front of him. Young didn't respect him as it was, and he never would if Rush turned tail and ran now. He jutted his chin out. "You're not going to touch me." Without breaking eye contact, Young dropped his pile of blankets to the side with a thump. A moment later an answering thud came from behind Telford's door, which Rush had a scant few seconds to wonder about before Young planted both hands into his chest and shoved him roughly backwards, sending him crashing to the floor in a wild tangle of limbs. Rush gasped for breath, taken off guard and winded by the sudden attack. He couldn't believe one of the soldiers had actually laid hands on him! He'd been assured by Doctor Jackson that things were different within the programme as compared to the military industrial complex at large. He'd said sure, they can be brusque and stubborn when it comes to what they believe, but we're very strict on who we let into the program. Jack's never put a finger on me. They're good guys.

These two men brawling until they're both bloody and gasping for breath? 😍 They're made for it tbh.

WIP game

[avengerchuck]

Teddy Ruxpin looks racist ngl

Typically I would just delete such an obvious bait ask- one that is so clearly trying to get a rise out of me. A negative response is precisely what people like you are after. As such, I shouldn’t bother. However... I fear you have underestimated my autism buff in this scenario. Providing me with any sort of excuse to talk about my favorite relatively obscure special interest was your first mistake.

For my normal followers:

Here’s a fun fact for you! Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what the hell Tweeg is, species wise? Don’t worry. You’ll see how this ties back to the ask as we go on. Teddy himself is an illiop, a bear-like creature typically native to Rillonia, the fantasy continent right off the coast of Grundo, the considerably larger fantasy continent the bulk of the series takes place in. Grubby is an octopede, sort of like a human-sized centipede thing with eight legs, which I’m sure you could gather by looking at him. Gimmick is a perloon, a human-like species. Prince Arin and Princess Aruzia are illipers. Wooly is a snowzo. Leota is a woodsprite. LB is a bounder. The list goes on and on, the lore in this series gets crazy intricate. Anyways! That being said!

Take a good look at this guy. He’s... unique, that’s for sure... he doesn’t resemble any Earth animal or pre-existing fantasy creature like most of the other characters.There is one prominent Teddy Ruxpin species that I’ve left out of my less-than-brief overview...Grunges. They’re these cute little humanoid creatures with weird snouts and antennae. There are two groups of these guys, the land grunges and the surf grunges, with the surf grunges being the object of interest in answering this question. The question I raised about Tweeg, that is. Not the race-bait thing.

Here is a prime example of a surf grunge: Elroy.

They say he was the greatest surfer who ever lived. And- considering how culture oriented the grunges are- this is more than a big deal. This guy is the Babe Ruth of the Teddy Ruxpin franchise. The sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. Wicked talented. The whole thing. Elroy is a legend.

You may be asking yourself why I’m talking about Elroy as if he’s dead or something.

See, Elroy was apparently a charmer. I doubt it was difficult for him to find love. For some reason, however, he settled with this troll (in a fantasy sense) woman named Eleanor. The peak of evil. So nasty (in a personality sense) that even spiders and rats wouldn’t infest her home. No one is one hundred percent sure on what happened to him, even when the grunges bring this story to Teddy and the gang’s attention, but the story goes that one day Elroy simply snapped and surfed away. Never to be seen again.

I sense at least two questions.

1. What the fuck does this have to do with Tweeg?

2. What the fuck does this have to do with the original ask?

Number one - I’ve been keeping something from you... The majority of characters in this series have last names or titles at the very least. Characters as notable as this, anyway. Ahem.

Eleanor Tweeg. Wife of Elroy Tweeg. He took her last name, and together they had a baby...Jack W. Tweeg. Newton Gimmick’s neighbor. All-around aspiring villain.

Number two - Y’know what this means?

Tweeg is the ONLY notable character in the series with parents of two different species.

Tweeg is the mixed race baby of an interracial couple... Just like meeeee :o)

[thiswasinevitableid]

Winter Wonders (Indruck)

A brief break from the winter fills to share something that’s been in my head since last winter (credit to Bellafarallones for playing in the space). This takes place in the same world as my superhero AU but can easily be read as a standalone. It is NSFW

The standard perception among villains, and some heroes, is that Duck has survived this long thanks to his enhanced durability and nothing else. This is bullshit, but he lets them believe it anyway; enemies underestimating him usually works in his favor. They don’t need to know he’s one of the more observant heroes in the city, a trait that served him well when he was constantly chasing The Moth.

The Moth switching sides and spending his non-hero hours as Indrid Cold, Duck’s loving boyfriend, hasn’t diminished the need for those skills. Indrid remains cagey about the details of his past and wary of divulging feelings he views as immaterial or foolish. So Duck pays attention, tucks patterns and clues away until Indrid is ready to talk about them. 

As December comes to Kepopolis, it brings new habits for him to notice. Indrid keeps pausing when he sees big Christmas displays in windows, he's buying his rats cranberry chews and toys shaped like snowflakes, and he's oddly transfixed by Christmas movies. 

It would be easy to dismiss it as all part of Indrid adjusting to a life outside the shadows. But Duck knows the angles of his different smiles, the way wistful thoughts read on a face that long ago learned to hide its hopes. So tonight, as he’s working on a model ship and Indrid is tinkering with a new cloaking device, Duck nudges open the conversational door.

“Anything you wanna do over the holidays?”

“Oh, no, nothing in particular.”

“You sure? It’s our first Christmas together, we could really do it up if you want to.”

Indrid pauses, “Do you enjoy going, ah, all out for Christmas?”

“Newtons tend to get a serious case of Christmas fever. Mine is mild compared to Jane’s. And mom” he chuckles, “she used to have that tree up before the jack o lanterns were even in the trash.”

“Sacrilege.” 

Duck smiles, “Maybe, but I was gonna argue with her. Point is, if you got things you wanna do, odds are good I’ll be down.”

Indrid sets his screwdriver aside, folds his hands in his lap and looks at them, “This time of year has always made me feel conflicted. Comfort and joy and such are not things a good villain embraces. And everyone being distracted did make for some very easy robberies. But I…there were nights when I would slip into the back of a church and just listen to people singing, to feel like just one, ordinary person in a crowd as voices harmonized about salvation.  And then I’d slink to my hideout, watching the shoppers in bright stores, the families in the warm windows.” He runs his fingers over the folded cloaking device, “I wanted it so badly sometimes and I still do.I want, I want to go shopping somewhere with a big decorated tree, to ice skate in a rink instead of a frozen training lake. I want to wake up to presents with big bows under a tree and open them with someone who loves me.”

Duck leaves the table, kneels on the floor to take Indrid’s hands, “I can make that happen. Tree might be tricky though.” He points an elbow at Chicken, sprawled atop her cat tree. 

Indrid meets his eyes, flicker of confidence returning to his smile, “Do not underestimate my ingenuity, chivalrous one.”

Duck kisses his nose, “Never.”

��--------------------------------------------------------------

“Do I get to know why we are doing our Christmas shopping somewhere that requires the train?” Indrid’s gaze is placid, but from beside him Duck sees his red smart-glasses are scanning every face on the train for danger. 

“It’ll make sense once we get there.” He’s already made his boyfriend promise not to peek at the futures and spoil the surprise. 

When they disembark in the heart of the city, Duck leads him through the increasingly dense crowds on the sidewalks until they burst into Macy’s Square. 

“Oh” A smile spreads across Indrid’s face as he looks up, up, up at the gigantic Christmas tree. As his gaze glides back down, his hands begin flapping and he chirps, “there’s ice skating!”

“Yep. They've been doing it here since I was a kid. C’mon, let’s go get our tickets.”

Indrid beats him to the ice once they’ve paid, his winter boots equipped with, among other things, retractable skate blades. He weaves through the other skaters until Duck joins him. Duck isn’t as graceful on the ice, but Indrid doesn’t care and instead keeps a slow, steady pace beside him all the while. 

When they’ve had their fill of skating, they buy hot cider from one of the nearby booths and sip it as they take in the display windows of the Macy’s that’s the size of a city block. Half the windows are dedicated to displays by the ASPCA, adoptable dogs, cats, and rabbits hopping about in festive decor. After they’ve cooed over all of them and Duck has seriously considered buying Chicken a friend, Indrid takes his hand and pulls him inside to begin their hunt for the perfect gifts for their friends. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid adds a final flourish of red and turns the newly frosted cookie towards Duck, “what do you think?”

Duck raises his eyebrows, “Holy shit, sugar, how’d you get all those patterns on one cookie?”

“A variety of knives.” 

“Almost too pretty to eat.”

“Almost” Indrid looks down at the baked good, then shoves it in his mouth like a greedy chipmunk. 

Duck snickers, “Don’t eat ‘em all or we won’t have enough for the cookie party.”

“I shall control myself.” Indrid picks up a snowflake shaped cookie and sets to work; he intends to do well at this cookie swap, and when he called Barclay last night for advice on a certain villain, Joseph was making Rugelach from scratch. 

As he dusts silver sprinkles across the frosting, he pushes his nerves to the side and asks casually, “could we do stockings? I love the idea of hunting down the perfect little gifts for you.”

“Sure. Think mine is in a box in the office closet, and I can get you one in the next few days.”

Indrid hums, pleased, and then intercepts Chicken mid-air as she tries to jump on the table. 

Different projects demand his attention over the next three days, and in the chaos he nearly forgets about the stocking conversation. That night, when he comes home from his patrol, Duck is hanging a green stocking with faded brown, felt reindeer on the wall. 

“Homemade” Indrid picks lint from the stocking. 

“Yep, mom made ours, just like her dad made hers. Uh, speakin of that” Duck grabs something from the arm of the couch and presents it to him, “here’s yours.”

Indrid takes the piece of black fabric. It’s dotted with red and green felt moths flying between some rather chunky snowflakes. The futures show that if he were to look in the office, he’d see the scraps of the pattern in the trash. 

“You made this for me.”

“Course I did. I, I wanted ours to kinda match, so you’d feel like this was really your home too-”

Duck doesn’t get his next words out. Indrid is too busy kissing him down onto the couch to care. 

When Saturday morning sun peeks through the clouds the next morning, Indrid has a chance to show off his latest craft project. Duck watches with mild concern as Indrid secures a green pole to the floor with a special adhesive (he made a solvent for it too, so he could put the whole thing away after New years). 

Indrid clicks a button and steps back as synthetic branches and pine needles spring into view.

“Ta dah!”

“Oh hell yeah, it’s just the right size for the place. What about-”

“The cat? Observe.” 

Chicken pads over to the new tree, but when she’s just out of reach a tiny, robotic dragonfly emerges from the trunk and zips by her. She immediately turns her attention to her prey, leaving the tree unscathed. 

“There’s also a spritzer function if she actually touches it.”

“You’re a genius, sugar.” Duck kisses his cheek, “I’m gonna go get the ornaments.”

They spend the morning hanging lights and ornaments on the tree. Among the simple spheres and icicles, Indrid finds one bearing a small photo of baby Duck, a metal heart marking the first Christmas his hero's parents spent together, and a lump of purple clay he cannot identify even though it has Duck’s name scrawled on the bottom.

“What is this meant to be?”

Duck takes one look and winces, “Dinosaur. I made it in kindergarten and they refused to ever get rid of it.”

“I think it’s rather charming.” Indrid hangs the lump on a lower branch and watches it sway; how strange, that digging through a box that sees the light once a year reveals so much about the man humming Silver Bells behind him. That evidence of what shaped Duck Newton into the man he loves and who, against all odds, loves him can dangle in a canopy of deep green as if it isn’t of note. 

He glances over his shoulder at his hero, who’s paused his decorating to give each of the rats a treat. 

Then again, maybe in the childhood that molded Duck, those loving moments were so plentiful that they faded into the background. Maybe for Indrid they will, one day, do the same. But not yet. They still burn brighter in his mind than all the lights in the city twined together, and he doesn’t mind in the least. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

While Indrid could have handled Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, he’s glad Duck asked him to go to one earlier in the evening. This is partially due to the midnight one being even more crowded, a fact imparted to them by the friendly woman in the pew behind them. But it is primarily because Duck wore a suit to church. 

Indrid has never seen Duck in a suit that wasn’t his super one. Uniforms, blazers, sweatpants, tank tops, Duck wears them all well and Indird will never tire of looking at him in them. But the moment he stepped from their bedroom in a gray suit and green tie, Indrid knew he’d think of nothing else for the evening. 

It’s not just the outfit flatters the muscles of his arms and the curve of his ass, that the gray makes the green in his eyes sharper than fresh mint. It’s as if the entire ensemble enhances the quiet confidence that always swirls around him, suggesting that no matter what comes, he can handle it. 

Indrid wants to get on his knees for him and never rise. Which is an inconvenient thought to be having in church where he can do nothing to act on it. 

He does enjoy the service, is glad to sit somewhere other than the last row and listen to the songs. But by the time they’re en route to home, he paws at Duck’s thighs and kisses his shoulder until his boyfriend gently reminds him that he’d rather not crash the car. 

When they get inside, Duck immediately fetches Chicken’s favorite puzzle toy. Once it’s filled and the purring menace is occupied, he turns to Indrid with his hands on his hips. 

“Strip and kneel by the couch. Got somethin I wanna try.”

Indrid obeys, kneeling in the spot closest to the heater as Duck flicks off everything but the tree and the Christmas lights strung around the room. He produces a length of red, velvet ribbon, his question obvious even without words. 

“Why chivalrous one, is this what you were thinking of through the entire service?” Indrid purrs, nodding so Duck will kneel in front of him.

“Nah. You just got that look on your face that means you’re turned on but want me to, uh, take the ropes.” He wraps the first loop around Indrid’s waist.

“So observant.” Indrid kisses his wrist as it passes by. 

“You know it. Hands in front of you.” The commands are gentle and so Indrid follows them without fear as Duck makes careful loops over his shoulders, arms, and chest. When his torso is well tied and his hands are secured, Duck sets his hands on the rims of Indrid’s glasses. 

“Okay to take these off.”

“Mmmhmm.” Indrid relaxes as they slip off, closing his eyes as Duck sets the glasses on the coffee table. 

Fingers gingerly tug and test the ropes, “Here’s how this is gonna go: I got some last minute things to wrap. If you’re real good and stay right here, quiet and still with your eyes closed, until I’m done, I’ll give you an early present. Sound good?”

“Wonderful.” Indrid sighs as Duck plants a single, soft kiss on his lips, then settles back on his heels to wait. 

Duck stands and Indrid tracks his steps to the kitchen. A clink of ice in a glass, the pop of a bottle, he’s making himself a drink before he begins. 

Nat King Cole drifts quietly from the speakers near the T.V and then Duck is moving through the house. For a while, Indrid follows him in his mind as he opens closets, cuts wrapping paper, and stops to stroke Indrid’s hair and tell him how good he’s being. Gradually, his mind quiets, uninterested in the particulars of Duck’s doings. Duck is here, is watching over him, is happy with him and loves him and oh Indrid will be so good for him.

God it feels nice to be good. 

By the time Duck’s finger traces a heart on his cheek, Indrid’s mind is a warm cocoon, the world coming in muffled and soft in the best way. 

Something sticks to his hair, one of the bows they put on the packages as Duck murmurs, “Well, well, look at what Santa left under the tree for me.”

“I’d hardly fit in a stocking would I?” Indrid smiles as a warm hand cups his cheek. 

“No, reckon you wouldn’t. You can open your eyes.”

Indrid obeys, looking up languidly to find Duck still in his suit, highball in his left hand. 

“Did I do well?”

“You did perfect, sugar. Which is why” he crosses to the couch, “you can come get your present.” He sits with his legs wide, smirking as Indrid instantly starts scooting the short distance on his knees. 

By the time he reaches Duck’s feet, the hero’s fly is undone and his soft cock peeks through his boxers. Indrid carefully leans forward, nosing the fabric and tugging as best he can with his bound hands until he’s able to take the head into his mouth. 

Duck groans happily, tipping his head back as Indrid sucks hungrily, his own cock stirring as soon as he feels the weight of Duck’s cock on his tongue. 

“That’s it darlin’, take as long as you want.” Duck’s free hand tangles in his hair. It doesn’t push or pull, it just rests there, a comforting pressure that reminds Indrid who he belongs to.

He moans, licking and sucking messily until Duck is fully hard. He finds a way to brace his arms that lets him tease the base with his fingers, Duck’s hold tightening slightly as he does. He loves this, loves that Duck lets him this close and trusts him with such delicate, intimate touches. It’s an excellent present, and to show his appreciation he pulls off and drags his tongue from root to tip with a long moan. 

“Fuck” Duck cums on his chin, gripping his glass so hard it cracks. He clumsily sets it on the table as Indrid continues teasing him with his tongue and rolling his hips hopefully. 

“Come on up here, sweet thing.”

Indrid scrambles up and into his lap, teetering awkwardly until a strong arm loops around his lower back. 

“Yes, yes” His head drops to Duck’s shoulder as a hand closes around his cock, “please, I’ve been good, please let me cum.”

“Course I will.” Duck holds him closer, kissing along his tensing shoulders, “you don’t ever gotta beg for that. Like seein’ you happy. Makin you feel good.” He kisses the shell of Indrid’s ear, “you deserve to feel good.”

He cums with a gasp, twitching in his bonds as he spills down Duck’s fingers. He’s so happy, so safe, that he collapses with a pleased chirp against Ducks chest. 

They rest there, carols swaying through the air, until Indrid purrs, “You are never taking this suit off.”

“Gonna make both my day job and my hero job kinda hard.” Duck begins untying his wrist, massaging each patch as he goes. 

“Nonsense. I will make you fireproof ones. Ones with weapons. Ones for every day of the week.”

“Or we could keep it for special occasions. Got more of those in my life now that you’re here.”

He blushes, tucking his head under Duck’s chin, “You deserve them.”

As the ribbons continue to fall away, Duck runs a comforting hand over his back and whispers, “we both do.”

[ask-the-badman]

(Things have gotten a bit messy, trigger warning ahead of time!<3)

Hunting with Sissy didn’t go as planned. I decided to ditch her wild ass and go at it alone after overhearing her express her doubt about me to Nancy. That’s all it took and I headed towards town right after stopping by Drayton’s and picking up one of his many junkyard cars. I needed to blow off some steam, get everything off of my mind before I lost it. So I took one of said College boys up on an offer to get some drinks at the old, dingy, dirty bar in Newton we’d visited earlier that day.

Things went smoothly. Shots to the head, flirty conversation, light touching from the drunken man that made me want to laugh out of pure disgust. But I had to play nice and so I did. Made it as far as into the front seat of his old Chevy, which turned into intoxicated me taking advantage just like I said I would. Switchblade tucked in between my breasts sitting pretty.

His mouth was on mine, hands occupied by the plush of my thighs and I took my opportunity. Pulling it out subtly with a giggle and another quick kiss to his lips, I placed the end of it under his jaw. Not completely against his skin but far enough for it to still hit deep. It sat right at the peak of his jugular, my heart pounding in my chest, adrenaline ripping its way up my spine and then.. 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸. The blade went in and a bloody gurgle emanated from his throat directly after.

Everything is hazy as I stumble across the yard. My white tank top drenched in blood, it clinging to me like glue, drops of crimson spattered across my lips and part of my face. My chest heaves with each breath as I make my way towards the garage where Johnny said he’d be. Somehow my lower half is completely clean, thighs pale white and on display in the short shorts I’d stolen out of a random closet of Nancy’s. Barefoot, hair disheveled, a bloody mess of the girl he’d witnessed just hours prior.

“Johnny?.. Johnnnyyy..” I murmured drunkenly. A wicked grin spreading my lips and a half of an unlit cigarette tucked between my fingers. “C’mere big ass. Need to talk too ya for a sec.”

Johnny was sitting in Nancy's garage on said big ass working away at rotating the tires on the old truck inside. Still larger than life with the truck resting on a jack as well as his thigh holding it up and a long L shaped tire iron between his teeth as he fiddled with the dented rim.

He perked up to hearing his name, lifting his head up and bringing the back of his gloved to his forehead to wipe at his sweaty forehead. Likely smelling a little ripe considering he couldn't fit in his shower for the last three days. Not that he used it often. Though he raised a brow at the 'big ass' comment before removing the tire iron from his lips.

"Kat? The hell happened to ya??" He asked gruffly, his expression a cross between concern and rising anger if something happened to her. Though from her demeanor, he hoped it was someone else's blood as he went to move towards her only to feel his thigh pinched under the truck. Holding him in place until he could lift it up to slip out from under it.

Damnit...

[wellingtonwellsdaily]

Famous Britons!

Good day, my lovely Wellingtons! It’s Uncle Jack here, and I’m positively thrilled to bring you another installment of Famous Britons! Have you taken your Joy today? I do hope so, because we’re about to embark on a delightful journey through the life of one of Britain’s most celebrated figures. So, sit back, relax, and let’s dive into the inspiring story of a truly remarkable Briton.

Today, we’re shining a spotlight on none other than Sir Isaac Newton, one of the greatest minds our fair isle has ever produced. Born in 1642 in a little village called Woolsthorpe, Lincolnshire, young Isaac was a curious lad from the start. He was fascinated by the world around him, always asking questions, always seeking to understand how things worked. It was this curiosity that would one day lead him to some of the most groundbreaking discoveries in the history of science.

You’ve all heard the story of the apple, haven’t you? Well, legend has it that one day, as Isaac was sitting in his garden, he saw an apple fall from a tree. Most people would have simply thought, ‘Oh, there goes an apple,’ but not young Isaac. He wondered, ‘Why did that apple fall straight down? Why didn’t it go sideways, or even up?’ And with that simple question, he began to ponder the mysteries of gravity.

From that moment on, Isaac Newton was determined to uncover the secrets of the universe. He went on to develop his theory of gravity, explaining not just why apples fall to the ground, but also why the planets orbit the sun. His work on the laws of motion laid the foundation for modern physics, and his invention of calculus – a type of mathematics that allows us to understand change – has been instrumental in countless scientific advancements.

But Sir Isaac wasn’t just a man of science; he was also deeply interested in the nature of light and color. He conducted experiments with prisms, discovering that white light is actually made up of all the colors of the rainbow. This was a truly revolutionary idea at the time and changed the way we understand the world around us.

Despite all his incredible achievements, Sir Isaac Newton remained a humble man. He famously said, ‘If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.’ This shows us that even the greatest minds are built on the work of those who came before them, and that collaboration and learning from others are key to achieving greatness.

Isaac Newton’s contributions to science and mathematics have left an indelible mark on the world. His work has shaped the way we understand the universe, and his legacy continues to inspire scientists, mathematicians, and curious minds everywhere.

So, my dear listeners, let’s take a moment to celebrate Sir Isaac Newton – a true genius, a pioneer of modern science, and a shining example of British brilliance. His story reminds us that with curiosity, perseverance, and a bit of imagination, we can all make discoveries that change the world.

Well, I'm afraid we've come to the end of our time! I do hope you’ve enjoyed learning about Sir Isaac Newton as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing his story with you. Until next time, keep asking questions, keep exploring, and always remember: happiness is a choice. Choose Joy!

[seph7]

Horror review: Breakdown

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE GEORGIA STRAIGHT, MAY 15, 1997

By Steve Newton

The scariest breakdown I ever had occurred about 10 years ago on a Granville Bridge on-ramp during afternoon rush hour. My ’68 Polara with the busted fuel gauge ran out of gas halfway up the curving incline to the bridge, and I had to frantically back the dead beater down and around while freaked-out drivers bringing up the rear swerved to avoid saying howdy to my sizeable hunk of American metal.

I was feeling pretty rattled by the time I manœuvred the sitting duck out of harm’s way, but compared to what the guy in Breakdown goes through when his vehicle conks out, my fast-beating heart would have instantly qualified me for Wuss of the Year.

Kurt Russell portrays Jeff Taylor, an average guy with an average name, whom we meet while he and his wife, Amy (Apollo 13’s Kathleen Quinlan), are moving from Boston to San Diego to start a new life together. To make the trip, the couple has invested heavily in a shiny new Jeep Grand Cherokee, and although the fine set of wheels is well-suited to a lengthy road trip, it also attracts the attention of a four-man gang of criminal scumbuckets, led by two-faced trucker Red Barr (J.T. Walsh).

When the Taylors’ sabotaged vehicle breaks down on a desolate stretch of desert highway, Amy catches a ride in Barr’s 18-wheeler to phone for mechanical help, and before you can say “The Vanishing”—or “the remake of The Vanishing”—she vanishes. Although Breakdown certainly resembles a compacted version of George Sluizer’s Americanized remake of his 1988 Dutch/French psychothriller, it actually owes a lot more to The Hitcher in terms of tone, atmosphere, and execution. Sequences from that ’86 action thriller—C. Thomas Howell sprinting between trailers at a truck stop, or barely avoiding a head-on collision—are duplicated, with Russell now playing the put-upon protagonist.

But what it lacks in originality, Breakdown makes up for with fierce action, nail-biting suspense, and some fine performances. Walsh—who was so creepily effective as the chair-dragging asylum perv in Sling Blade—reaches new levels of loathsomeness, and his transformation from Good Samaritan to sicko slimebag is a fine piece of work. M.C. Gainey and Jack Noseworthy also hit the mark as Barr’s brutal cohorts Earl and Billy, whose degenerate mentalities make it easy to sympathize with Russell’s initially vulnerable, ordinary Joe.

The aim of Breakdown is to get the audience thirsting madly for the blood of its villains, and by show’s end it achieves that primal goal. I, for one, got so caught up in the righteous vengeance-seeking that even the climax’s Schwarzenegger-type coup de grâce didn’t seem all that far-fetched.

[stevenrogered]

It was Jonathan Bailey who asked the choreographer, Jack Murphy, if we could have a more modern dance that we could do on set.

We wanted something that we could just put on. So we had Sister Sledge's 'We Are Family,' the song, and we had a little routine that we'd bust out to bring everyone's energy levels back up. - Luke Newton

[redpensandgreenarrows]

OKAY! Alright! Time to gather my Bridgerton S2 thoughts...

This post will more than likely be a long one and kinda ramble-y, dive in below the cut at your own risk. 😉

Obviously there will be spoilers. This is your warning, hehe. And please feel free to share your thoughts and ideas with me, I'd love to chat!! (And let us hope I can remember all the things I want to say...)

Overall, I REALLY liked this season. I liked it better than S1, but that's no hate to Saphne and their story. I very much enjoyed both for their own reasons. Also, I wish I had known to bring tissues for this season because SO MANY THINGS MADE ME CRY!

General thoughts on what I liked/didn't like:

Liked:

I like how they interpreted Kate and Anthony's love story from the books. Meaning, I like how both characters in the show accepted/acknowledged that they loved the other - internally at least - but the reason they fought it so hard we due to a sense of duty. Versus in the book: Kate thinking she wasn't as pretty/desirable as her sister, and Anthony refusing to love because he was sure he was going to die young.

Going off of that, I liked the change that Anthony didn't want to marry for love because he didn't want to be the cause of the type of pain Violet went through if anything ever happened to him. This felt more real - in conjunction with the flash backs - rather than this arbitrary belief that he only had a few more years to live because he obviously wouldn't out live his father.

WOO! That sexual tension! Hot DAMN.

Anything and everything Benedict/Luke Thompson. He fucking SLAYED this season, and no one can say otherwise.

Also, I got to watch Luke dress down, and I am all for more Luke T skin in my life.

Pall Mall was AMAZING.

More Bridgerton brothers fencing!

The Bridgerton's failed ball, but watching Anthony bring the Bridgertons and Sharmas together with the country dance! OMG IT WAS THE BEST THING EVER. EVERYONE HAD SO MUCH FUN! Well for a moment at least.

Disliked:

I didn't like that they hurt Edwina in this story. I like how Edwina in the book cottoned on to how Kate and Anthony felt and helped bring them together. The only reason I am not in an absolute rage about it is because of the badass backbone she grew from the revelation. It hurt like hell to see her go through that when you kept wanting Kate to just talk to her, but Edwina grew so much from the situation and finally became her own person.

They didn't give me enough Newton. Newton is an agent of chaos. We got a few scenes of sass and one scene of chaos - fall in the river. Not nearly enough.

The Sheffields. They are assholes. (Good for the plot, but I just dislike them because they are assholes.)

The whole Jack/Prudence/Portia triangle thing. Like I know Jack wasn't actually involved with Pru, but as soon as he made moves on Portia I was uncomfortable. 🤢🤢🤢🪕🪕🪕

The Featherington mourning dresses. Those browns were rancid.

The fact there was no explanation for Frannie's "disappearance"

Character points:

Anthony:

I am surprised the man didn't have a heart attack in the beginning. Talk about your Type A personality. Granted the flashbacks gave us a lot of insight, so we know why he is the way he is, but holy fuck. I've never seen someone micromanage their life so much.

The fact that I heard him say the phrase "child baring hips" 😡😡😡. Fuck off.

The INTENSITY this man brings to his performance is AMAZING.

Also, he made me cry MULTIPLE times season. Watching Jonathan's face crack as he cries immediately makes me cry. I wasn't ready.

THE BEE SCENE! 1.) I need Jonny to never make that panic/emotional face ever again. That hurt. 2.) The feeling of the hearts!!! What I perfect way to reassure Anthony that she is okay, even if Kate didn't realize how poignant it was!!! BRILLIANT.

His whole speech when he says "I love you" to Kate at the end. BEAUTIFUL. Full heart on sleeve. A++++

Kate:

It was like watching Anthony from S1. Which I'm sure was the point, but woo! Major deja vu.

Watching the battle of wits between her and Anthony: *chef's kiss*

Watching her struggles was so beautifully acted.

Also, I loved her little chat with Eloise. They played it out that those two could become close in future seasons. I'm here for it because that also plays into Ben becoming close with Kate, which I 1000% want.

I like how Kate kinda ended up being the one to finally give in and take the initiative when they first had sex. She said "yes let us finally do something for ourselves."

I love Kate. She is amazing, especially after she recognizes and acknowledges her issues. Yay for accepting happiness!

Kathony:

How. HOW!? Is it possible to have so much chemistry and have the act of "dancing around each other's faces, nearly touching" be SO DAMN HOT!? What is this witchcraft!? It was hotter than any of the damn sex scenes in S1. Everyone, I give you: the "female gaze". You're welcome.

THE WRITERS REALLY SLOW BURNED THE HELL OUT OF THIS DIDN'T THEY!?!?!? 👀👀👀 Straight out of a gd fanfic.

Once they got together at the end, and seeing them so happy together was so beautiful. And I don't care that they made out in front of family. Those two idiots in love would so do that. And the family was happy for them, so 😛.

Benedict:

Everything.

The snark from the beginning. Me and my dark ass humor love him.

He fucking MOOED at Eloise. 🐮🐮🐮

Watching him dump a whole ass pouch of drugs into his tea, down it, and proceed to get high af. A++++ However, I thought he was going to do more during the dinner. That scene felt too short 😂.

I guess Benedict and windows are a thing: he yells out of them, gestures out of them, ... and eventually climbs out of them to run to a lake - while sick - to get rid of a boner. Windows. Who knew? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Not only an artist, but he makes up poetry on the spot!? Sophie's a goner. She won't be able to resist his romantic ass. (I certainly can't.)

I GOT TO WATCH THE MAN STRIP, AND I GOT TO SEE HIS ASS. Not mad about it. 😇 (Frankly, I thought the scene with him sleeping with the model was going to be more of a thing. Guess not.)

I can only imagine how the news about Anthony's monetary contribution killed any and all ideas about who he thought he was becoming. Bring on the "#2/second son" gloomy thoughts. However, I was pleasantly surprised by Anthony's praise at the end when Ben confronted his brother about leaving the school. I'm glad his family seem to appreciate his abilities.

Eloise:

Boy! Did this poor girl go through the emotional rollercoaster this season! Social season stress, almost uncovering Lady W, finding someone she's attracted to, being threatened by the Queen, pushing away the man she's attracted to, scandalized by Lady W and then finding out her best friend has been keeping a secret that she is Lady W. THAT IS SO MUCH.

I felt bad seeing her so uncomfortable and feeling like she can't live up to expectations. However, seeing her with the giant feather in her hair in the beginning was quite humorous.

She did manage to make the Queen laugh, which was unexpected, but I loved!

Bless her for always sticking to her beliefs and ideals. She's a badass.

That last scene with Penelope. Holy. Fuck. SO MUCH EMOTION. But so good. I hate that she's hurt though. I have no idea how they will find their friendship again.

Other characters:

I didn't expect the Colin storyline where he outs Jack and protects the Featherington women. But I liked it! And I also liked how natural his changing feelings towards Pen felt, especially after what Marina said to him. But of course they had to throw in that heartbreaking line at the end. 😬😬😬

Boy, did Pen's Lady W secret really come for her at multiple angles this season! I wasn't expecting how quickly that was all going to happen. And again that ending was devastating between her and Eloise.

Speaking of Marina. I'm glad they seem to be treating her story well. Book Marina's story is very tragic, and I hoped show Marina's story would be somewhat easier on her. The poor thing deserves it. But I have NO idea how the show is going to bring Phillip and Eloise together.

Phillip you big ass botany nerd. 🤓🤓🤓

Seeing how excited Hyacinth became when Anthony asked her to dance! My heart!!! Just being the best big brother 💙.

ANTHONY AND GREGORY'S SCENE ABSOLUTE DESTROYED ME! I WAS A SOBBING MESS. I CRIED SO MANY TIMES THIS SEASON. I WAS NOT OKAY.

Justice for Francesca!

I love seeing Lady D and Mama Bridgerton team up to play matchmaker. It makes me happy. Lady D has become this second Bridgerton parent and I'm here for it.

I will say, seeing Lady D RATTLED this year was a shock. I was not expecting that. HOWEVER, I think it made her more... human. Even those with that "fuck around and find out" attitude can hit bumps in the road.

The scene with Violet and Anthony after she tells him that Kate is awake also destroyed me. SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE WARNED ME I WOULD NEED TISSUES!

And Daphne!! I adored this more wise and mature Daphne. You can really see the growth from S1!!! 💙

Okay. My brain is shutting down. I don't think I can think of anything else right now. But PLEASE share your thoughts and feelings! I'd love to chat about this season 😊!!!

[agentnico]

The Greatest Beer Run Ever (2022) Review

I always thought the greatest beer run ever was when five friends led by Gary King came back to their hometown of Newton Haven to retackle a crawl of 12 pubs in one night and reach that final destination stop of “The World’s End”, all whilst surviving an alien invasion. That’s just my humble opinion though.

Plot: In 1967, John "Chickie" Donohue leaves New York to track down his army buddies in Vietnam and share a few beers with them, but instead is confronted with the horrors of the war.

This is the type of true story that is mad in that it happened in real life. Like there is an element of fantasy to how this guy from New York managed to successfully make a ‘there and back again’ journey hobbit-style to Vietnam without getting into any real trouble all just so that he could bring his war-buddies some cans of beer. At one point one of the soldiers even says “Don’t worry about him. Everyone once in a while you run into a guy who’s too dumb to get himself killed.” And that is a pretty accurate sum-up of the character of Chickie, played by Zac Efron, and his miraculous way of surviving things where others wouldn’t. He’s a complete and utter doofus, who’s completely unaware of real dangers of the world, and also is blinded by the propaganda of 60′s America in terms of believing that they are on the right side of the Vietnam war. Efron really delivers on bringing out the stupidity and recklessness of Chickie (at numerous points acting like he’s a member of CIA to much comedic effect), yet still keeping him charming and likeable, especially since even though his motivations are ridiculous, there is an element of endearing innocence to them in that by bringing his war-buds some beer is his way of bringing them a bit of home. Basically yes he’s an imbecile for getting himself into a war torn country where you could die every second step, but he’s a nice imbecile.

This movie is brought to us by Peter Farrely, who used to primarily make crude silly comedies the likes of Dumb & Dumber, however in recent years he turned a a new leaf by tackling more serious subject matters, whilst still keeping that comedic tone making the topics more mainstream approachable. And I’m aware that Farrely and his team got some criticism when they won the Academy Award for Best Picture with their movie Green Book, when a lot of people assumed Spike Lee’s BlackKklansman should have had it instead due to tackling the same subject of racism but in a more powerful, shocking and urgent manner. And yes, an argument can be made that Spike should have gotten the win, however awards scrutiny aside, what I’ve enjoyed about Farrely movie with his last two films is how he approaches difficult subject matters in a light way that makes for an easy watch, yet still delivers the necessary messages and thought provoking questions that one should have when dealing with racism or in this case the war. So nothing that Farrely is saying is ever ground-breaking or new, however it always comes from a good place. The Greatest Beer Run Ever is in no way reinventing the war film genre, nor it ever strives to do so. It’s a wholesome wacky story that eventually turns into a dark and sombre representation of the horrors of war, yet at it’s heart is all about the beauty of friendship and human connection. Again, this is no Apocalypse Now. This is very much seeing war from the outlook of a common bystander, so we only really see snippets of the bad, but again, that works for this movie. 

The cast all do great here. Efron I already mentioned plays up well the silliness of Chickie, yet provides with his expressions the necessary emotion when the daunting times come. All his war buddy pals played by Jack Picking, Kyle Allen and Archie Renaux all show the different types of characters one would find at war, yet all of them share that collective sense of dread in knowing what terrible situation they are stuck in. Russell Crowe and Bill Murray, though both are absolutely great, only appear briefly and as such are quite inconsequential to most of the movie. In fact I am confused why Crowe is receiving top billing on the posters with Efron. Then again, one has to sell a movie and Crowe is always a great sell. 

The Greatest Beer Run Ever is a highly enjoyable war film. It’s funny when it needs to be, eye-opening when it gets into the grittiness of war, wholesome and delightful when beer and friendship are involved. Again, it is in no way innovative. We’ve seen war depicted much more terrifying and horribly on screen before. But this movie is not set out for that. As Chickie puts it - “I’m going to Vietnam, and I’m bringing ‘em beer!!” And that is exactly what he does. 

Overall score: 6/10

[eisforeidolon]

WS was more Beren's baby, Dabb (and Singer/Sgriccia/etc...) were just there for the ride. Dabb knows how these things go, considering when Bloodlines didn't happen, he never tried to bring back characters or tie up loose ends. He knew shit happens in TV. Berens on the other hand, seemed to have a hard time letting go, and I think he took out on the final season, secretly concocting this secret SL w/ Misha [continued]

If you watched S15, there's this real disconnect with how Berens (and to an extent Misha) play scenes w/ Dean and the rest of the writers and Jensen. Basically the other writers wrote Dean/Cass as having this deep rift in their friendship. No more, no less. But Berens' episodes rendered Misha into this simping teenager angry their crush is ignoring them.

**********************

I can definitely see where you're coming from here. In season 14, 2 of Berens' 3 so-called contributions were dragging his laughably ridiculous fake ninja evil twin sue back into the story. He even drags her back later again in season 15. I don't like Dabb's fixation on Jack any better and I'm not sure we wouldn't have had more Claire inflicted on us if Newton's career hadn't taken off, but I think it's true enough Berens directly showed the most inability to move TF on.

I admit I didn't pay much attention to writers at the time, because it was hard enough to just get through the stupid of the episodes in season 15? But yeah looking back at the episodes? The whiny poor-me huffy pity party Castiel throws when Dean doesn't trust him in 15x03 is a Berens episode. Castiel calling Dean stupid for caring about Sam being tortured, bitching about Dean not IMMEDIATELY forgiving his every dumbass decision, and Dean's Purgatory bullshitpology in 15x09 is also a Berens episode. And of course, Castiel's mental-scar-inducing crying face and supposedly oh-so-tragic death in 15x18 were a Berens episode.

Every bit of it could have been taken from the worst dreck that passes for D/C fanfic. Poor, sad abused woobie Castiel, check. Deriding Dean caring about Sam, check. Dean has to grovel to the coathanger for being so MEEEEN, check. Castiel (supposedly) in the role of the hero? Check. The funny thing is that while the deluded shippers ate it up, the rest of us? It really did just make Castiel seem like he'd been possessed by an exceptionally whiny, self-centered hormonal teenage girl. 15x18 potentially calling the motivations and meaning of every action he took and character development he ever had into question is just the cherry on top.

Berens couldn't have done a better job of destroying the character if that had been his intention all along, which is kinda sad and yet also hilarious.

[deadmunds-ghostbee]

Little bummed there’s no time for me to write anything for Kate week so I thought I’d drop another preview of my WIP. This little bit comes from chapter two, set in the “Now” and picks up exactly where the first preview left off. In the actual story we’ll get about 8-9k of “Then” in between these scenes but this part is much more fun to tease. 

Hope you enjoy!

**

Kate had been back in town for three weeks and she wasn’t hiding anymore, or at least that’s what she told herself.

Of course she’d come back to visit in the past seven years, especially since Edwina had left home and wandered right back into the same city that sent her running, but it just wasn’t the same then.

On a holiday, she didn’t trudge past the pharmacy with its solid brick walls whose ridges she still felt on her back in her loneliest nights. She didn’t have to walk the same streets that she used to race down at dawn, when she used the sting of the cold to bring tears to her eyes because she wouldn’t let herself cry on her own.

On a holiday, she could pretend the wailing sirens didn’t sound like his bedroom past midnight, and that the buildings didn’t tremble with the echo of memories.

Her move, her new job, her “beginning” (as Mary liked to call it) had its growing pains but she didn’t want to hide anymore. And that felt like an important step.

In fact, she began walking Newton through the park near campus, across the street from that one bar where she’d spent more than one fateful night. She ironically began calling the practice a ‘reclamation of the streets’, so to speak.

It was nice, because the park had benches and her new sofa wasn’t due in for a couple of weeks, and if she faced southeast her eyes could avoid the setting sun and the flickering storefront of the bar behind her.

The return home always felt a little depressing though, no matter how successful the reclamation had been. She still sat on a folding chair in the middle of her unpacked flat eating lukewarm takeaway with Newton on her lap, watching competitive cake decorating shows by herself.

More than depressing though, it was just a bit boring. Despite being thoroughly knocked about by life the past few years, Kate was still abuzz with energy nearly every waking moment.

Sometimes she’d wander the supermarket for hours after work, talking to Mary on the phone. Or if she tried to listen to just one of the hundreds of audiobooks Edwina recommended just to pass the time, she’d have to do jumping jacks to keep herself from going crazy, which of course then roused Newton into such a frenzy that she feared he’d tear a ligament.

Edwina’s solution to this boredom was predictable:

“Come out with my friends and I!”

“Edwina,” Kate sighed into the receiver. “I cannot spend every weekend night tagging along with a pack of twenty-two-year-old grad students—if I drink flavored vodka I’d have to get my stomach pumped.”

This incredibly reasonable excuse of course lead her sister to propose an even greater terror:

“Then find yourself someone to pass the time with instead.”

Kate paused warily. “…A man, you mean?” She glanced around the craft store (she told herself she’d learn to knit because painting wasn’t fun anymore, but thus far had only used the needles to play fetch with Newton), but found nothing but teen girls and grandparents littering the aisles. “I don’t hang out in the same places as eligible bachelors.”

“The gym?” Edwina asked.

Kate wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“Fair,” her sister admitted. And then, “You could sign up for a dating app.”

Kate laughed harder at that than she had at anything in years, but when she found herself tipsy on three glasses of wine a day later, she downloaded one of the damn things and was asked out on a date by someone she was 90% sure wasn’t a psychopath within seventy-two hours.

It was mid-September and still sticky outside so she wore a sleeveless dress. The seafood restaurant they were going for dinner was actually ridiculously nice, (so much so that she was beginning to expect this man might be modestly wealthy—strike one), so she wore heels too.  

She walked in five minutes early, eager to get her bearings in unfamiliar territory, while she was still on the phone with Edwina. She gave the restaurant address, her date’s name (Tom), any other details in case of attempted abduction, and made for inside.

The moment she noticed a change was the same moment she stepped over the threshold. She was saying goodbye to Edwina and swinging her purse in her hand as she spun through the revolving door, but the air grew thicker as the glass whipped around, teasing the hem of her skirt to whoosh about the knees in the foyer of the restaurant.

And then she felt eyes on her.

It wasn’t just the tingling of awareness—it was a zeroed in sixth-sense, the feeling of being pried open, stared at, taken stock of, and it left Kate stumbling under the weight of her newfound confidence.

Even though she could never fully believe it, she told herself she looked good. No, not as good as her sister on any given day and certainly not as good as a number of wealthy people wandering around the restaurant, but she could be charming. She could be pretty when she put herself in a nice dress and she could be good enough. Good enough for her date and even herself.

It had taken less and less to convince herself of this with age. Especially since she realized that no one was really looking at her or even paying attention to her, much less judging. Someone like her could blend in, and on the odd occasion that she could muster the confidence to feel like more than an object in the periphery, she might even cause a second look.

A third, though, was unheard of. Much less a stare like the one of undeterminable origin she still felt lapping her up at the moment.

The sensation was an alarming one at first but then she looked up and realized: Tom was already there. Sitting in a nearby table for two, with one eye trained on his phone and the other glancing upward periodically toward the door until it finally caught on her.

She smiled at him. He smiled back.

And then her phone was away in her purse as she strode across the dining room. But oddly enough, even with her date sitting straight in front of her, she felt eyes on the bare skin of her back, on her hair, on her exposed calves.

She shrugged off the sensitivity and greeted Tom with a pleasant smile that hid her wariness.

Then she sat down and everything changed.

Because as she turned around to hang her purse on the back of her chair, she flicked her hair away from her face and took an absentminded look up—and was met with the face of someone she never thought she’d meet again.

Him.

Anthony.

She blinked several times but his unfaltering form still sat there, 30 feet across the room at a long table full of people who looked just like him.

Facts and anecdotes she stowed away long ago resurfaced. 8 siblings, 4 girls and 4 boys, one mother and no father.

They were all there—even Benedict whom she used to know personally—laughing and shooing hands and even aiming pieces of discarded bread at each other’s heads (much to their mother’s chagrin), but Anthony was different. Separated, somehow.

It had been his serious stare ripping through her, locked-in with such brazenness that she shivered.

When she caught his gaze, somehow not the least bit hesitant, the charge was still there; a zing of interest, a flash of long departed familiarity.

So Kate did the most logical thing a grown woman could do: excuse herself to scurry to the bathroom and call a twenty-two year old for advice.

No matter how fast she walked or how big she smiled or even how much she pretended not to notice him, pretended she wasn’t running from him, his eyes trailed behind her right up to the moment the women’s restroom door shut.

And then, just to be safe, she locked herself in a stall.

Let’s see how easy it is for Anthony Bridgerton to stare me down in here, she thought childishly, pulling up her phone contacts. But then she had to fend off the mental image of Anthony in there with her, that same darkening stare pinning her against the partition as they converged, which was a hearty task in and of itself..

God, she needed to get laid.

Kate tapped her foot impatiently in the stall as the phone rang.

The bathroom door opened and closed as she waited, but she ignored it. She was panicking; she was aware she was panicking, but knowing it never stopped her vision from tunneling, or kept her breath from growing hollower, and most of all it never took away that growing certainty that she was going to die.

Thankfully she never made it that far because Edwina picked up a second later, her voice crackling through the phone. 

“Kate, are you okay? It’s been five minutes. Are you getting abducted?”

Kate schooled her voice into something she hoped was casual, but the resulting wobble in her voice was a little pathetic. “Maybe. Probably not.”

“What?” she squawked, but then there was a brief pause before Edwina began skeptically, “From the tone in your voice…do you want to get abducted and you like, want me to talk you out of it? If you catch my drift?”

For the love of god.

“No that’s not it.” Kate grasped for the right words as she ran a restless hand through her hair. “It’s just—he’s here.”

Kate put all the correct emphasis on he—there had only ever really been one he—but somehow Edwina didn’t understand.

“Your date?” she tried.

“No! Him. Well yes my date is here,” Kate amended, “but he’s also here.”

A dull silence and then: “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“It’s. God, it’s him. Bridgerton!” The moment she said the name her leg kicked involuntarily at the wall partition. And it hurt.  “Fuck! Ow!”

“Oh.” Edwina replied, much calmer than she should have as Kate hopped around on the tile. “So Anthony is at the restaurant?”

“Yes and I can feel his stupid eyes all over the back of my neck whenever I’m in the dining room,” Kate hissed. “He’s here with his whole family, so he hasn’t said anything but…he’s just—looking.”

She could almost picture her sister’s thoughtful frown.

“You can make up an excuse to leave?” Edwina suggested. “Or invite your date back to yours if it’s going well.”

“With my folding chair and the sack of dogfood in the main room?”

“Point.”

“And besides, I’m not entirely sure I want to leave,” Kate admitted.

She had no idea where the words came from, but there was no denying they were true. And she also wasn’t in the interest of lying to herself anymore, so she took a deep breath and continued. “I want him to see that I’m better now. Whatever that means.”

“Oh Kate, you have nothing you need to prove to him. You know that.”

“I do. But also I just—I feel more like myself now than I ever did back then,” she said, voice getting smaller. “I want him to see me.”

Edwina sighed into the receiver and in that moment Kate knew she understood. “Are you sure you don’t want to be abducted by him too?” she teased.

“Edwina!” Kate cried.

“I’m sorry. You just never got your closure. You should do more than just let him ‘see’. Even if it’s nothing, it would be good for you to talk to him.”

Kate shook her head rapidly for no one but herself. “I can’t do that!” she insisted. “It’s been seven years, that’s basically just announcing to him that I never really got over it.”

“You didn’t,” Edwina said.

Which was honestly just uncalled for.

“He probably doesn’t care. Hell, he probably doesn’t even remember half of it,” Kate argued.

“If I can recall anything correctly, it’s that he always seemed to care from where I was standing. He probably cared more than you wanted him to.”

She was using that voice she always did when she was being creepily wise for her age. And the shittiest part about it was that whenever Edwina used that voice, both sisters knew she spoke the truth.

But it didn’t make the truth any easier to deal with.

So what if he cared then? So what if he cared now? What’s done was done, and Kate was sure you didn’t get second chances when you rip apart the way they did.  

“The only reason I feel this way is because of what you said: I didn’t have closure and my brain is just trying to find the proper end it wants.” Her throat was getting tighter and tighter with emotion, but she swallowed down the tension convulsively and said, “It’s nothing more than that—but I can’t Edwina. I just can’t.”

The line was silent for several seconds, Edwina no doubt processing the words with careful attention. Finally she spoke and her voice seemed nearer and softer than it had been since they started talking.

“Then show him you’re better now, if that’s what you need. If that’s all you can do right now.”

Kate nodded quickly to keep from sniffling and concentrated hard on the tile beneath her feet. “Yes, okay, thank you. I need to go now. I love you.”

“Love you too. And hey! On the bright side, he’d probably shoot down your date if he tried to abduct you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kate laughed.

She hung up, and a minute later she righted herself and exited the stall.

Her hair looked a mess in the mirror from her anxious hands and her lips were bitten to a swell, but she figured she looked okay enough to march back out with her chin held high to continue her date.

He would see, she told herself, and then she could finally forget.

But then her reflection and all her fears wasn’t the only thing she was facing, because the stall next to hers opened up and out walked a young woman with familiar features.

The oldest girl, her mind provided numbly. ABCD—Daphne.

Kate’s heart stuttered as her mind raced through her memory. The door had opened at the beginning of her conversation with Edwina.

Which meant—oh no.

**

If you made it this far, a fun update if you’re interested: I have a little more than 65k written and will begin posting either the week of the 21st or 28th! Chapter 10 (the last chapter I want to finish before then) will be a bit of a monster but after that I’ll feel very comfortable in my place :)

[barren-heart]

If you’re Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, or Jared Padalecki.

STOP.

Read this post.

Dear J2M,

This is an open letter for you three written by a couple of unhappy passionate fans.

We write this to you because we know at least one of you has a secret Stan account and creeps on the destiel hashtag from time to time. Don’t lie. (Ahem. Misha Collins. Looking at you, Sir.)

With the subtle hints and possibility of a revival, us here at BarrenHeart (Bee and Jay) have some thoughts on what we think a reboot/continuation/revival would look like if it was done well.

Note: we don’t speak for the whole fandom(obviously). And we don’t even speak for all of the Cas/destiel fans. This is from our observation of the fandom after 15x18 and the finale, plus our own opinions.

Here are our demands suggestions for the potential revival.

--Castiel--

First things first. Castiel is brought back.

And by that, we mean he is either shown to be rescued from the empty, Jack rescues him from the empty, or by some other means, that man is not left there to suffer for all of eternity.

Castiel is a lead character.

Not a guest star, not “and Misha Collins.” No. Misha Collins gets to be in every d*mn episode. He is an equal lead alongside Dean and Sam. Which leads into the next point.

Castiel gets his own storyline.

It can be connected to Dean in some way, but he needs his own arc, y’all. Don't care what that is, but he IS his own character. So, some form of personal growth or whatever needs to happen. He is a badass and deserves a good storyline. Also…

Give this M-- F-- (mother father) his wings back!

Yes, he died without ever having his wings return to their full power. Like? We know he was nerfed so he wouldn't overpower Sam and Dean. Prove to us that he can be a fully powered badass and still work alongside Sam and Dean. No need to get rid of that.

Human!Cas does not mean pathetic Cas.

There is a divide on whether Castiel should stay an angel. Personally, we like human Cas. However, human Cas was shafted in the series. If you make him human in any way, shape, or form, he’s gonna still have to be a badass. Don’t whimp him!

He can be a good hunter/pretend FBI agent just like Sam and Dean!

So, make him one! Let him do more cases. On his own. With other people. With Sam. With Dean. He can fight without powers, too.

Give him love!

For the love of freaking Jack, let that man know he is loved by people. Not even mentioning anything romantic, he still needs platonic love y’all. Let Sam say it, let Jack say it. Let anyone in his family tell him that he is loved. Not once in this series did Cas hear that anyone loved him. So, fix it!

New style, anyone?

Cas needs other clothes! Please now. The black trenchcoat we never saw in-show? Boss. Cas in a black leather jacket? Coolness. Hunter plaid? Do it.

Confession Resolution

Speaking of love, come to some conclusion please about him and Dean. Give a resolution somehow, somewhere. We personally don’t really care how it’s done, but there needs to be something said here. You cannot just drop a confession there and just leave like it never happened. So, talk about it.

Adding this, I swear, if this is bros only, you WILL lose Cas fans. So, think about what you’re doing.

--Sam--

Sam is important!

Now, personally we have a soft spot for Sam. His character arc in Season 1-5 was great. Demon blood, powerful Sam was amazing. So, don’t sideline Sam. Seriously. We are gonna say in an unpopular way (as if this post isn’t already unpopular to some), but Sam got sidelined real hard in the last few seasons of the show. Now, was that what Jared wanted? Don’t know. But, Sam needs his own storyline too that isn’t just revolved around Dean. Figure it out.

Witch!Sam

Speaking of which, let this man be powerful. Sam is best when he has powers. Sorry but also not. He has been given all of Rowena’s (who is arguably the best witch around) spell books and decides to not really do much with it? No. He’s becoming a BAMF witch. Full-out, no word spells and shit. End point.

Sam in Charge

He’s not just a baby brother. He’s a grown man. Give him room to grow. Allow him to be a leader. Let him lead a group of hunters, witches, a whole team of people! He’s strong on his own, too. He's a big boy. Prove it.

He should fall in love.

Like, get married and all that. It’s a part of his arc, so keep it there. No blurry wife, my god! Personally it should be Eileen. She’s a badass. They also have a lot in common! Holy hell. They make a good team. So, keep that suggestion in mind.

Let him have the hero’s journey.

We want a good ending that shows growth for this character! He saw himself as a freak with powers, so…maybe he can use his powers now in a way that in empowering instead? Let him have an ending that doesn't just return to the beginning. Let him have gone through all of this changed for the better.

Don't be creepy.

Still keep the brotherly bond with Dean, but don’t make it weird, y’all. Don’t. Please.

Sam as a dad.

He can have a kid. But, Dean Jr? Eh. You might want to reconsider some other (Bobby) possibilities.

--Dean--

Now, with Dean, I wanna make this clear.

DO NOT K word THIS MAN.

This man here has dealt with unbelievable trauma, suicidal thoughts and even almost died by suicide in the show (okay, it was for another reason, but still!) He dies way too many times in this show. It’s not new anymore. Perhaps, when the show was newer, death might have been a bittersweet ending. But, now. It’s tarnished. It happened too much and the message of “carry on” got tainted to mean “there is only peace when you die.” That’s not okay.

Resolve his issues!

He has so much pain and trauma. Let him seek help. Let your audience know that it’s okay to process these emotions. Let him heal. He deserves it.

Dean’s internal struggles

This is piggybacking a little off of point two, but Dean has a lot of things he needs to figure out. We feel like his journey is more internal. While processing his trauma, he needs to learn that it's okay to be himself. This could include things about himself that he feels ashamed of or scared to admit. Things he may have repressed or suppressed over time. No more hiding who he is or brushing it off or making jokes. Be your true self, Dean. It's time.

Dean’s still important, of course

That said, Dean should still be integral to the overall narrative of the plot. Of course he's gonna go head to head with the Big Bad of the season/limited series, but he really should focus on what's inside first before he can take this monster down.

The Bro bond

No more dependent/unhealthy bond with Sam. Of course they are family and brothers, and will always be close. That's perfectly fine. However, its important to note that Dean was Sam’s mom/Dad most of his whole life. And, well, that never came to a resolution. Please let Dean resolve this issue. Sam is grown and older now, and even though Dean will always feel protective of him as his Big brother, Dean shouldn't feel like his life only revolves around taking care of Sam. There is more to Dean and his life.

Dean is complex

Also, Dean is not only about cars, burgers, and pie. It's like some of the writers forgot this. There are so many things/interests of Dean’s that are really cool and add to the complexity of his character. Keep those things.

He needs to resolve his issue with Jack.

He never said sorry to the kid. Not once after telling Sam that Jack wasn't family. He needs to tell Jack he is loved.

Speaking of which, Dean needs to tell Cas he loves him.

Okay. Who knows if you will make destiel reciprocal at this point.

Do we think Dean would have reciprocated based on context clues and what we have seen in the show? Yes.

Do we think this love is romantic? Yes.

Do we think you'll actually fully make it canon in a reboot/continuation? Eh.

Regardless, Dean loves Cas, so make it known.

Other demands considerations.

‘The found family’ needs to not be forgotten.

All the friends that were made along the way need to be included. What happened with Garth was great, actually. Do more of that. And by that, we mean include Jody and Donna. What are the girls doing now? Wayward sisters anyone? Bring Kevin back. Don't leave him to roam the earth all along like that. Either make him human again like Eileen or send him to rest in Heaven.

Where’s Eileen?

Hello??? Where? Tell us she made it back.

Claire

No idea if you can get Kathryn Newton back, but it would be cool at least for one episode. Please. Kaia? Resolve her storyline.

Also, Charlie.

Wtf happened? That was not resolved. We love Felicia Day. Charlie’s friendship with Dean is amazing. She deserves a few episodes.

Crowley!

Seriously. What happened to Mark was super disappointing. You gotta bring him back. His death wasn't great. Bring him back and give him his damn line already!

Jack!

I'm not fully on the Baby!Jack train, but he does deserve a normal life. He's three years old technically. He had no normal life whatsoever. He deserves that. So, give him that.

More Rowena please!

That's it. She's awesome.

Have a wedding.

No, really. Someone's gotta get married. Our pick: Sam and Eileen. Charlie is also a good contender for having a wedding with her partner, too. So there. Weddings are happy. We want a happy ending.

I will reiterate. Team free will lives. That's it.

Okay. Now, moving on to the next part of this. The elephant in the room. The thing a lot of us actually want from this, but frankly, we aren't sure if you'll do it.

Explicit Destiel.

If you've read this far J2M, then you're probably wondering when this was going to be addressed. So, here are the stipulations on destiel.

Go big or go home.

Yep. We said it. Make it explicit, full out, no ambiguity.

Honestly, you might be thinking what you could do to make it explicitly canon? Well, since there were tons of people who still think Cas’ love confession was just a platonic exchange between two bros (like wtf? How?), you're gonna have to spell it out for people.

But, some things that we may perceive as romantic, some people may not.

--Like, holding hands could be considered platonic between two men to some people.

--Cheek kissing could also be considered platonic to some people.

Not to say we need Jensen and Misha doing full on *** scenes to prove anything, but something more than a hand hold. Okay? Okay.

What we’re saying is basically, you're gonna have to kiss. On the lips. Yep.

So...I guess you'll have to figure out how you want to do that.

On when to make it canon:

You can decide if it makes sense to make it canon towards the beginning or towards the end. Honestly, there could be an argument for either. If it's made canon earlier, you could prove there can be a relationship alongside the main storyline. If you wait until the end, you'll leave fans wondering if you'll actually do it. But, the kiss being the major event of the finale could be worth it. Whichever you do, remember there are upsides and downsides to both.

Other other considerations:

Just realize who your fanbase is now. We’ve grown and changed. Like Becky, your fans have gone through a huge change in what they want from the show. Is the fandom all on the same page? Nope. Will they ever be? No.

You will not please everyone. That's a given. But, a lot of fans want to see the show wrap up in a better way than what we got. Destiel fans aside, the finale was not great overall. There are plenty of negative finale reviews that have nothing to do with destiel.

On top of that, society is changing. Slowly. The attitudes in regards to lgbtq media is quite different than before. You have the chance to make history. Really. If you make this canon, that will be a part of your legacy. You'll hit the news. I mean, 15x18 wasn't even the finale and it trended #1 that day.

We suggest that if you do decide to make it canon, it’s meaningful and you take the time to do it right.

So, consider your fans. Consider the part of the fandom that trended your show over the election. Consider the fans that trended a fictional wedding on Valentine's Day. Consider Misha/Cas fans who felt slighted. Consider your LGBTQA + fans. Just, think about what the reboot could achieve. What it could mean to a lot of people.

As always, we just want happiness and peace when we are done.

Thanks for reading Misha J2M.

Sincerely,

Bee 🐝 and Jay 🐦