#and then suddenly we were literally drinking essential oils

[prescienceofdawn]

i-

[white-poppie]

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎯⎯⎯ Part II of the '𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇' series

SYNOPSIS: In the bleakest times of your life, there kindled a little ember in you. Tsukiko, moon child, you were coping, one way or another. But dark clouds claw at the litte light of hope in your life as you come face to face with Suguru again.

TW: crying, teen-pregnancy, panic attacks, lactation, depression-like symptoms, post-partum, adoption,, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, big sad :(

A/N: Thank you for all the support to this series!! Ps! look out for the symbolism in objects, i used big brain power lol. Plus I am sooooo sorry for delaying this so much

NOTE: reader is in her last year so she'd be around 17-19 :) This big sad will build up to happiest happy in the last part so bear with me.

WC: 4k lmaooo

Series masterlist Pt1: 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Part 3 Now playing: Part 2

The child, a baby girl, lay giggling and cooing in your arms as you look down at her with warmth in your eyes. She's the spitting image of an angel with her wide and expressive eyes, her small nose, a sharp arch exactly like her father, pink flushed cheeks and a tuft of soft dark black hair on her head…She looks exactly like Suguru.

She is a talkative baby, her little pink lips opening and closing wit soft 'pops', thats quite literally talking, what even is the difference when you are holding a squishy 2 month old? Her hands and movements are disoriented, jerky, flailing her chubby little arms and legs without care.

Her tiny hand reaching up to grab at your strands of hair, her big eyes looking curiously at your hair, observing how it moves with her tiny wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart, let mama do shopping for you." you whisper to the tiny baby strapped to your chest as you go around picking the essentials

She looks up at your voice, her lips almost forming a little pout and you can't help but coo lightly at her cuteness. You resist the urge to snap another photo and send it to Shoko to which she would always reply with a boring thumbs up emoji, but you know well how she smiles after seeing her god-child.

"Let's see what we have... we got the diapers, baby oil, flour, we got the veggies and other stuff...ah pear, we should get some pears." you say to the baby. It was difficult to think singularly in singular pronouns, it was the two of you-- it was 'us', 'our' through and through.

You walk down to the fruit isle, looking for some pears. Eventually you find the last pack in the thin mesh. Your hands reach forward to grip it and so does another. Your heart ceases. There is no way you wouldn't recognise that hand. The faint tan under which lie a constellation of protruding green veins. Fingers with a naturally large nail bed, the skin around it slightly discoloured. Suguru. There was no doubt it was him, you didn't even need to look up or rather you didn't have the strength to.

You suddenly wanted to laugh. You felt like a tragic greek hero, comung across your beloved, a bit too late. Orpheus and Eurydice, Hyacinthus and Apollo. Achilles and Patroclus. But the real tragedy was, as the poets said, "I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

"Suguru..." You whisper out breathlessly as you finally dare and look him in the eye.

His name leaving your lips like a plea tears straight through his chest, his heart aching at the sound of his beloved's voice again. He can't help but feel his heart racing as he looks at your face, drinking in the sight of your tired but radiant face. "Y/N," he murmurs out.

He feels sick, how instantly his sleep-deprived body finds solitude at the sight of you. Relief flooding into his lungs, spreading throughout his veins like a chasm. Its shattering, he feels like a man who was lost in a desert after having left his paradise for a mirage of an oasis.

His body is on fire, his muscles searing to envelop you, to somehow make you melt into him and never let go. His vision blurs, watery, and then suddenly, his breath stills, when his eyes fall onto the soft bundle safely strapped to you chest. An appearance uncanny similar to his, its alive, living. His ears buzz in trepidation. On one hand you stand in front of him and he wants to fall on his knees and tell you how miserable and lonely he was, how being the villain in everyone's story, including yours doesn't bother him anymore, but that child...

"Is that.." he murmurs, but his voice trembles more that he would have liked it to.

Your eyebrows etch into a small frown, you almost want to scream at him for even asking this question. "Obviously." You reply your eyes darting to the aisles in the mart.

His breath stutters and his palms turn cold. No, no, no, no, no. A soft gasp leaves his mouth. The revelation tumbling down him. he had thought of everything. He was ready to face anything, and every consequence, and yet somehow some way he had forgotten to calculate a variable. A variable that was a variable that you, a variable was his child.

He killed his parents without hesitation, left the walls of the quaint house he grew up in all sullied with but somehow the sight of you with his child brings him to his knees. He wants to sob, rest his head on your knee and shakily kiss you and the baby in forgiveness.

"That's my child..." he says, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. With his silken black hair and nose bridge, the same bright black eyes he had as a kid....that's his

You take in a deep breath and nod, your heart pounds in your chest till it aches. "Tsukiko." You whisper out, your voice hoarse as you look at the little girl

Suguru has to bite his lip just to keep himself sane, memories of that bittersweet night flooding in and he feels he would topple over the pear rack.

"Tsukiko...she's named Tsukiko..." He says out and his hand shakes. That's his blood, his daughter and yet he is the farthest thing from a father. Seeing her so close to you, the way you are fussing over her, it has his throat run dry by the intensity of a ground marred from rain, a rain that fell always but now doesn't fall in the courtyard of his heart, leaving all the plants of humane emotions, wilting and dry.

He can't help but murmur out, "A pretty name. It suits her." He whispers out softly, gently reaching out a hand towards the small child. "May I?"

You look at him as a strange anger wells up within. You want to refuse, yet you want to cry in his sturdy arms, for him to envelope you so hard that you can't breathe. You want to beg him to come back, and yet you want to slap him and tell him to never show his face.

You want him to stay, to apologise for letting some as young as you go through pregnancy alone. You want him to apologise for leaving you in a state where the shadows around you seemed to warp in oddly threatening shapes, where intrusive thoughts had you so scared you had to call Shoko or Satoru just to listen to their voice, so that you feel real and don't end up doing anything stupid.

You want him to go back to your dorm room in jujutsu high, where all of his belongings are untouched like the day he left.

You gently unclasp her from the carrier. “Support her neck, she’s only two months old.”

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently takes the child into his arms, watching as you gently unclasp her from the carrier and gently place her into his arms. His heart hammers in his chest as he carefully and gently supports her small, fragile neck, feeling her small frame in his arms. Tsukiko blinks her wide eyes in confusion, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

You feel anguished, thinking of what life could have been if Suguru had never left for his goals. What if you hadn’t lost half of your soul that day.

His heart aches as he holds the small baby in his arms, thinking of all the moments he will lose out on seeing now. Never seeing her first steps, her first words, never reading her bedtime stories, never having her call him ‘daddy’. He will never get to see her experience the feeling of pure and unbridled joy for the first time, or seeing her face light up at all the small, everyday things that make children happy. He knows he has missed so much already, and the thought of missing more...

His heart aches and his breath catches in his throat as he feels the small child’s bottom lip tremble slightly, her head turning up to look at you with a conflicted look in her eyes. He can feel her small frame quiver slightly in his arms, probably still confused by the fact that she is in a stranger’s arms, but she isn’t crying to get away from him. The fact that she’s not crying to get back into your arms makes him want to laugh and sob all at the same time.

"Tsuki." You whisper out as you gently brush your fingers on her face. For some odd reason you don't want her to cry in his arms. After all the pain he has inflicted on me, Iyou still don't want him to be hurt by his girl crying to get away from him.

You take a sudden breath as your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, and suddenly you feel so small, so alone. With Tsuki away from your chest, even though she is right in front of you, you feel a strange fear of abandonment.

His heart races as he feels your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, your fingers leaving a scorching heat in their wake even though you’re only brushing against his arm. Your fingers are icy cold, and it’s just then that he realizes that you have tears streaming down your face, the droplets running down your chin and dripping onto the linoleum flooring of the grocery store. Your shoulders are trembling and you’re trying to hold back your sobs, but he can hear your strangled breaths.

"Give her back to me and leave." You whisper out as you bite your lips. Its not fair, It hurts so much. You have been so strong until now, taking care of everything, but now he is here and everything is rushing back like a riptide, knocking you off your feet, making you fall face-first onto the sand

He can feel his eyes widening in shock as your strangled words reach his ears, his heart aching painfully as he holds back the urge to cry out. He watches you struggle to stop tears from streaming down your face, watching the way your shoulders tremble as you try to hold back your sobs, watching as you fight back the urge to just hold the baby and run back to his arms.

"Geto." You murmur. Not Sugu, not Suguru. "Give me my child back," You whisper as you look at him, your hand clutching your chest as it aches so painfully. "Are you having fun seeing me make a spectacle of myself in the middle of a mart?" You croak out, but your voice doesn't waver.

His heart breaks as you call him ‘Geto’ in such a cold, detached voice. He gulps and hand the baby to you, his hands immediately feeling so empty, thats his daughter, his little girl. He wants to hold her, kiss her head, kiss the beautiful woman who brought her to life, but he is going to make a new world, and when all that is done, you would all be a family....

You gently tuck Tsukiko back in the carrier as he hands her to you and walk out of the mart, towards the exit. The groceries forgotten. You will buy them some other day. Each step is so difficult.

You wanna go back to him, cry in his arms, sob and hit his chest. Standing underneath a stop as you dial your phone to Satoru and he answers. "Satoru...can you pick us up?" you murmur tiredly, your voice hoarse

The moment he heard your voice over the phone, Satoru felt his heart dropping to his stomach. He can hear the way your voice is strained and hoarse, and he can sense the way that you are on the verge of tears. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat as he stands up from his desk and grabs the keys off his desk. “I’m on my way.”

You nod and cut the call, staring blankly at the clouds. You hear the automated door of the mart open and look at Suguru exiting the mart, three polybags in his hands as he walks up to you and keeps two of them on the ground. You look at the bag...its all the things in my cart and the pears.

Your lip trembles as I look up at him, eyes bleary. Tsukiko is now peacefully asleep against your chest. Her faint smell, that of baby powder and milk...It lingers from Suguru too, your head pounds.

He faintly smells like her too now and the way he looks at her, like he is aching, his eyes begging--- they are peading in the same way as they were on the night which lead to Tsuki. I wish I can have what I love, but to protect what I love, I must make a society where those I love ⎯ sorcerers: you, Tsuki, Satoru, Shoko ⎯ are safe

"Go, it's about to rain soon. You'll catch a cold if you get wet." You whisper out tiredly.

His heart aches as he watches you whisper out your words, the exhaustion plain on your face. He can’t bear to see you struggling and forcing yourself to be strong when he is the sole reason for your pain. And as he hears your tired voice, he just can’t help the way his hand reaches out to gently brush the tear away from your cheek. “Y/N…don’t cry,” he whispers.

You look at his hand caressing your cheek before a soft sob escapes your mouth. His touch making goosebumps rise all over your body. “Don’t do that, you have no right to when you decided to leave….” You say as you weakly push his hand away, but it’s so feeble and weary that it’s like a gentle nudge.

A fresh wave of tears builds in your eyes, and all he wants to do is draw you into his arms and hold you until your sobs fade away. It kills him how weak you are, how weak his leaving has made you. He wants to hold you and never let you suffer like this ever again. But how could he after he’s the one that caused this pain to begin with?

His phone rings, an unfamiliar contact name flashes on his screen. Mimiko with a little childish flower emoji next to it.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach; to the point that you feel as if you are having morning sickness all over again.

"That's your girlfriend?" you ask with a soft chuckle, as you don't feel this ugly cold wave wash over you, you feel your limbs stiffen, your teeth chattering at how cold I feel.

Its as if your heart has closed off, putting up a barrier around it and locking away all those painful emotion that he has inflicted on you. He looks down at his phone, seeing a picture of Mimiko and Nanako, the little girls he rescued and adopted 11 months ago, smiling in the caller ID. "Y/N..no..."

"You don't have to defend yourself y'know." you say with a fake breathy laugh as your hand supports Tsumiko's sleeping head to your chest. "Not that it matters anymore."

He bites his lip as he stares at your expression, his heart being "I’m not gonna defend myself but...those are my kids, not my girlfriends," he says softly.

Your eyebrows furrow as your grip on Tsukiko tightens instinctively. "...What?" Its too much. Its way too much for you to handle, your ears ring uncomfortably, yet you try to stand firm.

"Mimiko and Nanako..." He swallows nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I-I found them, when I left you. They are sisters. Their parents were murdered, and they were in such horrendous conditions that I just had to rescue them," he stutters, feeling a sudden uncomfortable rush of warmth on his cheeks from his heart racing.

"I see, uhm thats very nice of you." You mutter with a little smile. "Having two daughters, must be nice. something positive amongst all that you are doing..." You say, but your throat runs dry. He has two daughters. That’s basically a family. He is raising them out of goodwill and love, it’s optimistic.

Your heart aches as you think about Tsukiko. Her mother still stuck to her past, clinging to her lover.

Most of the days you can't tell the date from start to finish. You blankly do all the work, function normally but trapped in this surreal dream that you can't snap out from, until your back hits the bed and you stare at a picture of you and Suguru on the bedside. Finally crying, showing some humane emotion after acting like a non-sentient being.

He has two daughters. Who first had happy lives with their parents until they tragically died, and were taken in by an equally loving caretaker.

Your expression turns from shock to something a little more painful, a sad half-smile that looks like it’s masking the emotional turmoil that he can see building up beneath it. He can see the way that your shoulders droop a little, your head bowing just a fraction more towards your chest. He can see your fingers tightening just slightly around Tsukiko, "Yeah..it is...” he murmurs out weakly.

“I am glad…every child deserves a home.” You mutter genuinely, but you feel so so terrible, like the worst person on earth that you am jealous of those little girls. Those little kids who get to live with their adoptive dad, a happy life. Full of joys and laughter. While Tsukiko was born in such despair. So much pain. Her mother, her godparents; everyone suffering in the tumultuous Jujutsu society. But what about Tsukiko, who's only fault was being born, why does she have to experience this tragedy?

Suguru's heart shatters as he watches you silently struggle and hold back your tears. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He did this to you. He did this to you, and now his two adopted children are getting the life that he ripped from you. That he denied you. There’s so much you already hear from people, about your character. When your only crime was being in love

“I won’t tell her that you have kids when she grows up.” You say with smile. “Wouldn’t want her to think she’s not a good kid and that’s why her dad left her for other children who are better than her. She’ll think her daddy didn’t like her.” You mumur. “Kids can be particularly fragile…who would know better than a mother who’s a kid herself?”

His heart drops at your cold, quiet words, his breath catching in his throat, tears building in his eyes at the pure agony that he can feel in your words. The way you’re already resigning yourself to being a single parent all alone. The way you can only do this because you’re still a damn kid yourself. Suguru heaves breathlessly as he gulps, his bottom lip trembling. The words don't leave his mouth. He should just ask you to come with him, to live with him, to be together as a family, a big family.

“At least raise them well Suguru…the two of them should get a safe environment. You look down at Tsukiko, your fingers gently brushing the little hair on her hair. She’s so tiny, hasn’t even gotten hair on her head fully.

Suguru's hands shakes as he takes a step closer, just basking in the sight of his beloved and his daughter. "Yeah," he mutters. "They are good kids, my girls..." he says in a faint whisper as a soft smile graces his face at the sight of Tsukiko's pudgy cheeks.

What a mighty child, she can stop world wars, she has him stopped and he is the closest thing to be a cause of a war in near future.

My girls? Your knees buckle at the words. “Ah I see… they are your girls.” You can't help but be bitter at his phrasing as you look at our little Tsukiko. She looks so much like her daddy. From her eyes, nose, hair, skin…she is a replica of him and yet he’s never had the chance to call her his child. It’s so cruel.

He feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through his heart at your words. His girls…not our girls. His girls. He doesn’t have the right to have you call them our girls. They’re just his. All because of him.

“Will she ever be your daughter Suguru…?” You can’t help but mutter so shakily, your voice quivering like a child’s as tears roll down your eyes…you feel so small it’s embarrassing.

A soft breathy sob leaves Suguru, he can't do this, he is goddamn monster. The sound almost makes you flinch as you look up at him. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “How could I...she’s…” he struggles to get the words out. “She’s ours. She’s ours and she’ll always be ours.”

Suguru sakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, he so goddamn dizzy. "She is my daughter, Nanako and Mimiko are my kids." he says, the change of a synonym making such a huge difference in the meaning.

"And you- you are mine, you have no- no idea who difficult it has been, I can't even try to compare, but I've missed you so goddamn much." his voice cracks. "And its so lonely, the girls they see me staring at your picture everyday and I tell them that's their mother. When they ask where you are, I tell them how I messed up- left to protect you, because you do not agree with my ideas, I thought you would be better off without me, that you'd move on slowly. But there's my daughter and I feel so guilty. You cannot move on, not when she is a reminder of me, of us. Of our youth."

The tears don't drop, but they pain is etched on his face, deep frown and upturned brows. You breathe out and shake your head. "I can't-" you murmur and he bites his lip, his index finger lightly running on Tsukiko's palm.

"I know." he says, "I just wish- I just wish I had more time, with you and Tsukiko." he whispers in the same soft tone as he conflicted eyes look into yours as if to say. Come with me, leave the jujutsu society, just us, our family.

But leaving with Suguru meant betraying everyone. Satoru, Shoko, Yaga sensei and the entirety of the sorcerers who work day and night for the future. A safe future from people like Suguru. Who heedlessly killed thousands of innocents.

"Go," you whisper out. "the girls must be waiting." You pause, your fingers shakily finding his and his eyes widen. He firmly squeezes your hand, the warmth of his hand against yours rouses and inexplicable pain and fondness in you.

"Satoru must be arriving." you mutter.

He nods his head slowly as he steps away, his voice thick. “I love you." he whispers out. The same words he had denied you the privilege of last time as he leaves...

Moments later a panicked Gojo pulls over, alarmed by your call before his eyes widen as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy. His best friend, the strongest along him. Gojo can feel a cold shudder wash down his spine as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as recognition hits him instantly, realising what may have happened.

You are sitting on the seats on the bus-stand as he comes close.He steps closer to you, his heart breaking upon seeing the dried tear tracks that are on your cheeks and the look of brokenness and despair in your eyes. He kneels down in front of you and gently rests his hand on your knee, his eyes gentle as he looks at you. “Y/N....” he whispers.

“Satoru…” You whimper softly, your voice cracking out of desperation and relief.

He quickly reaches up to pull you into a tight hug, his heart aching at the small, whimpering whisper of his name from your lips and the way your breathing hitches and a choked sob escapes your lips, the rest of your body quivering in his arms from the force of your tears. His arms are locked tightly against your body, keeping you pulled firm against his chest as you cry into your hands and he gently strokes a hand up and down your back. “Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.”

He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remains...

A/N: I sincerely apologise for the pain, but I don't have enough money for everyone's therapy.

EXP: Pear symbolism: In Chinese, the word li means both pear and separation, so it's said that to avoid a separation, friends and lovers should not divide pears between themselves.

[pinkjiminssi]

So.. About That Hickey..

I think I’m still processing all of this and reminding myself I’m not dreaming 🤣 I seriously only got 3 hours of sleep last night and when I woke up the first thing I did was check twitter to be sure this “drunk bridal-style spinning hickey neck biting proudly showing off” moment actually happened!! 

.. I hate the way my brain works though. I was so happy that it took me forever to fall asleep, spent all day on cloud 9 despite being tired, .. and then my old nemesis, anxiety, stepped in. Well kind of. TBH if all of the MOTS ON:E Jikook moments we got happened with Jimin/anyone else or Jungkook/anyone else.. I would seriously be sitting here saying “well fuck.. I believe they WERE a couple, but looking at all of this it seems they are no longer together.” So really, this just confirmed what I already knew about Jimin and Jungkook: they’re a couple. My anxiety is over.. why? Why show us this? If they can cover all of JK’s tattoos, a hickey/bite mark/whatever we’re calling it should be super easy to hide. Sure it was just rehearsal.. but it was rehearsal with cameras rolling with every intention of releasing what was being filmed as future content. It could have (and some might argue should have) been covered.

Guys... I’m confused. And concerned. ❗❗❗ TW for drama, hate, homophobia, the usual anti issues

That “official” explanation.. again.. why? I’m assuming Jimin and Jungkook were asked and allowed to explain because of the chance of it being spotted and armys freaking out, so BH (or possibly even Jikook) thought to get ahead of the speculation by just being up front about it all.. but THAT explanation? I suppose it works for covering up the army panic of “Jungkook has a girlfriend?! *insert fangirl sobbing*” .. but that’s literally all it does (and only barely if you go looking at some of the anti’s reactions to it all). Really, all it did was draw even more attention and speculation. I mean.. this is, essentially, what we were told: Jimin and Jungkook were together the night before drinking, apparently without the other members as they didn’t seem to know all of this already (and they would have if they had been there), somehow hanging out and having drinks turns into Jungkook picking Jimin up bridal style (random but some of the k-army reactions on twitter were translating through google into “princess style” and I just think that’s so cute 🥰), spinning ensues, Jimin gets dizzy and wants Jungkook to put him down, ... and so he proceeds to do the only logical thing that any of us would have done in that situation... biting Jungkook’s neck? And hard enough to leave a mark the next day?? And instead of being peeved about it (like most of us would have been if our friend bit the crap out of us), Jungkook looks happy?? proud even??? 

And they arrived together the next day and continue to be cute and playful? 

I just.. I mean.. come on. First of all.. that’s a hickey. A bite leaves teeth marks. And one would assume a wild, drunken “let me down” chomp would be something that happens suddenly and ends very quickly. I know I for sure would drop someone on their ass if they decided to take a bite out of my neck (assuming I was even picking up and spinning around with one of my friends like that to begin with.. but let’s not even get into why that was going on at this point) .. but the way this bruised? Yeah. There were no teeth involved (at least not hard enough to leave indentations) and this took more than a couple of seconds of mouth-to-neck contact to still be that visible the next day. So.. in short. Jungkook arrives with a hickey, JK decides to not cover it up (or he would have shown up with it hidden and we see him get out of the car that morning with it clearly visible), BH staff sees it and also decides to not have it covered up and actually have it explained... and the explanation is “oh yeah Jimin just bit him, you know.. no big deal hehehe isn’t that funny?” 🤯 WHAT?! Yeah.. that’s totally normal, platonic behavior between adults...

I’m not saying Jimin and Jungkook are lying btw. I have no doubt it played out more or less exactly as they said with the exception of what they’re calling the end result. Jimin and Jungkook are fine.. I mean, what were they supposed to say? They’re not going to show up saying Jimin was sucking on Jungkook’s neck the night before. We’ll probably never know why Jungkook decided to not cover it up before arriving, but it’s his body and he gets to decide. It’s BH that has me so puzzled. Other than antis and people who refuse to see what’s literally right in front of their faces when it comes to Jikook.. who were BH expecting to believe the bite thing? Just among staff and the other members, it’s a laughable but safe “oh of course *wink wink*” explanation that allows everyone to carry on like normal. But to the public who don’t know them personally, don’t know their usual behavior and patterns, and who don’t have something like a non-disclosure agreement or professional courtesy preventing them from openly speculating.. it doesn’t fly. Pretty much everyone teen and up knows what a hickey looks like (either from having gotten/given one or at least seeing one on someone else in person or online). It’s immediately obvious what it is. And even if there was some uncertainty.. that it’s on his neck (instead of other easily accessible and less sensitive/stimulating locations) and just so happens to be right near his mole as it Jimin were aiming for it? Just another “too many coincidences” thing when it comes to Jikook.

Even antis on twitter couldn’t deny what it was and, so, had to resort to the “well I do that with my sibling and my uncle’s pet raccoon all the time it’s just family things” excuse and/or the “yeah well someone ELSE in the group (or a girlfriend) gave him that and they’re just covering by saying it was Jimin.” Oh. And the same old “it’s just fan service” excuse (as if Jungkook would let someone bruise his neck for the purposes of fanservice which, again, BTS has never done or needed to do. Forever pissed off that so many in this fandom act like Jungkook is a puppet doing whatever the “evil company” tells him to do regardless of his personal feelings or boundaries. The man has tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arm despite that being looked down on in Korea. At this point he can do whatever the fuck he wants). So.. why?? Seriously, why? This all could have easily been avoided with simple makeup.

When they’re doing official content they’re all literally followed around by a flurry of staff fixing hair, dabbing sweat, touching up makeup, etc. Even though it was rehearsal, staff were everywhere in the footage that’s made its way online. If they were worried that it would be seen in the background and “taken the wrong way,” just have the staff occasionally touch up the makeup. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” But instead of doing the obvious, BH decides to: not cover it, draw attention to it by asking about it and letting them continue to talk about it, go out of their way to get a camera on it, and then include it in the final cut of the content they sent out?

BTS is literally the most popular group in the world right now and BH has become a behemoth of a company that runs like a well-oiled machine. They’re not stupid; this was not a mistake. For some reason they wanted us to see this and, one would assume based on the lack of a more believable explanation, they wanted us to come to the conclusion that we all have: Jimin gave Jungkook a hickey. You know they have teams dedicated to monitoring reactions to content on social media. You know they know the dialog surrounding Rosebowl, Black Swan MMA, the Memories 2020 “almost kiss,” etc. etc. All of this got “jikook,” “hickey” and variations of their names trending for HOURS (in multiple countries and worldwide). 

Out of curiosity, I decided to check the trends at the time of writing this. As of 3 AM CST (about 24 hours AFTER the clips started showing up online), there was still a hashtag trending related to all of this: #FREEJUNGKOOK.. and the tweets being directed toward BH are.. disturbing to say the least:

While I agree that the boys should trend more often based on their talents and music.. what’s going on right now is a homophobic 💩 show accusing BH of “scripting” interactions (rather than.. you know.. Jungkook interacting with whoever he wants however he wants.. the usual “mindless puppet JK” narrative), trying to coordinate the mass sending of angry emails, trying to get people to stop buying paid content, accusing BH of taking advantage of the members.. I mean it goes on and on. And BH know what’s going on right now. They’re seeing the reactions... the good and the extremely negative. And still they let this out. And this is all not even CONSIDERING the mountain of other moments that made the cut on MOTS ON:E. 

(side note, the above pic just oozes happiness and it’s so cute I love it!! 😭)

So.. even though I’ve said it dozens of times already... WHY? W H Y? I’m an anxious person by nature and not very trusting. I believe Jimin and Jungkook and I don’t think they’ve been lying and pretending for “fanservice” all of these years. I respect them both too much as individuals and artists to believe that they would stoop to such tactics just to generate a little more “interest” and revenue. I’m suspicious of BH. BTS doesn’t need fanservice to get attention; literally all of 2020 and 2021 so far has proven that beyond a doubt. Even if they suddenly made the decision to do fs.. why not go with the most popular ship (taekook) or at least one that isn’t so hotly debated on social media (remove Jimin, Jungkook and Tae from the equation and you still have four members to “play” with who have much less potential to have fs devolve into a toxic crap show all over the internet). Showing us this will do nothing to help BTS as a group or Jimin and Jungkook at this point. In fact.. all it can do is hurt. Hurt BH, hurt the group, and hurt the individual members, heck.. even potentially hurt other BH/HYBE groups. I’ve already seen people on twitter saying they’re “done” spending money on anything BH or BTS puts out because they’re “sick of jikook in their faces and just two of the seven hogging all of the screen time.” Whether or not that “spending freeze” actually materializes into anything noticeable remains to be seen of course.. but the threat is there and always has been. What is the motive? And why now? As much as my “hopeless romantic” heart would like to believe they’re preparing us for Jikook to be “out” .. I seriously don’t think that is ever going to happen. Certainly not now at the height of the group’s fame, with them being given Presidential honors and ambassador status, and with military service still looming over them all. And let’s not forget... Korea is NOT a safe place for a queer couple. Letting us see and know what they did through what was released has the potential to put Jimin and Jungkook (and the other members by proxy) in danger. Sure.. BTS has never been hardline rule followers and have been breaking molds and shattering norms from the start, so “officially” having an openly gay couple in the group wouldn’t be impossible.. just... highly highly improbable. Especially right now... and I’m concerned. I don’t want to sound like the creeps I posted a screenshot of above throwing blame at the company. The boys chose to renew their contracts with the for a reason so we have to trust their judgement as a group... but still, I’m worried and I’m questioning what the purpose was here. 

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳

And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰

Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?

Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔

“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?

“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.

“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.

Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭

Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐

You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔

Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤

Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭

“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot

Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”

“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?

“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬

“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅

“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃

“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.

I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭

“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩

“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’

“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬

“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.

“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔

Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.

Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.

I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳

Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.

I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.

That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.

Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔

I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?

I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.

Don’t you actually dare.

“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.

Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.

Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know

Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗

Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways

Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔

Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧

Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong

Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭

“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃

“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.

Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅

“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳

Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes

“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance

Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭

Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.

Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭

“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.

“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭

Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧

“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭

But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”

Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too

Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗

And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend

Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.

Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳

Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.

“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.

“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok

“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃

“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧

“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏

“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought

Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺

Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?

Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅

Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣

Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...

Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺

He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying

Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.

But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”

His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all

Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”

Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.

Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”

“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...

“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏

Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅

And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅

[who-ya-gonna-call-winchesters]

A Learning Experience - jack kline x reader

Sam and Dean Winchester leave their little sister behind on a hunt to be a glorified babysitter for a certain nephilim. Y/n introduces Jack to a bunch of new things like pancakes, grocery stores and chick flicks. A few harmless questions arise. Fluff.

Word Count: 2,154 

masterlist

If anyone had told you a couple months ago that you would be babysitting Lucifer’s son while your brothers went out hunting without you, you would have laughed in their faces. But that was then and now you were cooking breakfast for two in the bunker’s kitchen balancing your phone against your head with your shoulder. 

“Real nice move, assholes. A note. What a nice way to tell your sister you’re abandoning her”, you hissed.

“We’re not abandoning you, Y/n, it’s just a couple weeks. Jack isn’t ready to come with us and he shouldn’t be left alone”, Dean replied, “According to Sam.”

“Are you keeping the knives away from him?”, Sam asked in the background. 

“I did not realize that was something I had to do but I think I’ll lock them up now”, you said.

“He’s not gonna hurt you, I’m worried about him hurting himself.”

“Great, so you abandoned me with a suicidal nephilim in a bunker that no one knows about.”

“It wasn’t my idea”, Dean grumbled.

“Shut up, De, I know you don’t like him but he’s just a kid”, you rolled your eyes. 

Your oldest brother laughed, “You two are like the same age if you don’t wanna get technical-”

“Which”, Sam interjected, “is why I think it’s a good idea you stay with him at home. You can teach him stuff and make sure he takes care of himself.”

“I’m literally a babysitter. You guys owe me big time when you get back”, you said. 

“Something I’m sure you won’t let us ever forget.”

“Goodbye, Dean”, you hung up the phone and plated the last of the pancakes. 

After setting the table you cleared your throat and called out for Jack in your best mother hen voice. It echoed around the empty bunker for a few moments before you heard footsteps approaching and a head of blonde hair poked in from around the door frame. 

“Yes, Y/n?”, Jack asked. 

“Sit your ass down and eat, breakfast is ready”, you gestured towards the pancakes on the table.

“What are these?”, he asked, staring at the pancakes after he sat down. 

You stared at him, “Are you kidding? They’re pancakes, you’ve never had pancakes before?”

He shook his head. 

“Well, these are the best breakfast food in the whole world. I don’t really know how to explain them better than that”, you said, putting a couple on his plate and passing him the bottle of syrup, “I think, you’ll like them. You can put syrup on them if you want…”, You watched in abject horror as he drowned his pancakes in the substance before digging in. 

Jack grinned through a mouthful of food, “These are good. I like pancakes.”

You laughed, “I’ll make them for you every morning as long as you don’t tell Sam about the amount of sugar you just ingested.”

Jack nodded, “Deal.”

After a couple days of making three square meals a day for a nephilim that seemingly never got full, especially of your pancakes, you had to make a trip to the grocery store. Syrup was at the top of your shopping list but you were running low on other actual essentials and you didn’t know if a nephilim could actually eat unhealthily but Jack was half human after all and Sam might appreciate you putting a salad into the boy. 

You knocked on the door to his room, in between yours and Sam’s incase anything were to happen, and stuck your head in. He was reading, something you encouraged considering how many pop culture references your brother used, besides Harry Potter was a classic and you were showing him the movies as he gradually finished each book. Which was surprisingly quick before you realized that Jack didn’t sleep nearly as long as you did. 

“Hey, Jack, you wanna get out of here for a little while?”

He looked up at you in confusion, “Sam and Dean said it would be best for me to stay here.”

“Well, I don’t see those dummies anywhere now, besides we need more food. It’s just a quick run to the store. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to though”, you said. 

He shook his head and stood up, “No, I’ll come with you.”

“Cool.”

It really was supposed to be a quick trip to the store until you learned just how much food Jack had never had before. 

“Do you normally get this much food?”, Jack asked, looking over the nearly full shopping cart. 

“Living with Sam and Dean? Yes. But we’re getting a lot of stuff I don’t usually buy. It’s high time you lost your mac and cheese virginity”, you said as you examined the tomatoes.

“What is that?”, he asked tilting his head in a very Castiel esque manner, which you found absolutely adorable. 

What? Mac and cheese? It’s kinda in the name, just macaroni and cheese-”

“No, virginity.”

You think you probably rivaled the tomatoes in how red your face was, “It’s uh…like when you’ve never done something before. But it’s just a metaphor, normally virginity pertains to um”, you paused. You really did not want to give Jack the sex talk in the middle of the produce section. 

“Intercourse?”

You breathed a sigh of relief, thank god. Wait… 

“How do you know what that is?”

“I saw something on Dean’s laptop-”

“Dean showed you porn?”, you hissed. 

“Not exactly, it was just there”, Jack said nonchalantly. 

You shook your head and put the tomatoes in the cart before dragging Jack off towards the registers. That was enough for today’s outing. 

After about a week, you two had finished all eight Harry Potter movies and had moved onto the rest of Dean’s vast collection of movies. Over the course of your time alone with Jack you had learned he was a huge cuddler. The first time you had sat down on the other side of the couch, he pulled you closer by the second act. Not that you minded, Jack was warm and it kept the chill off, the bunker was drafty. It was only for that reason. Not because you were developing a huge crush on Satan’s son. 

Tonight you were watching some romantic chick flicky movie you didn’t even know Dean owned. Well, Jack was watching it. You were nose deep in your book with one hand curled in Jack’s hair as he rested his head on your lap. 

“They’re supposed to be in love, right?”, Jack asked. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda the whole point of the movie”, you said, not looking up from your book. 

“Then why is he hurting her?”

That got your attention, you looked up at the screen. The guy in the movie was pushing his female love interest up against the wall and gazing into her eyes with an intense smolder that made you shiver a little. 

“He’s not. It’s kinda meant to be romantic. It’s building sexual tension”, you replied as the pair on screen started making out. “See? Now they realize they’ve been in love the whole time.”

Jack turned to look up at you, “How do you know when you’re in love though?”

“I don’t know, you feel all tingly and happy when you’re around someone you love. You really like spending time with them, I guess. These are some loaded questions. Haven’t you been watching the movie?”

Jack flushed, “I wasn’t really paying attention to some of it.”

You shrugged, “You didn’t miss much, most chick flicks are all the same anyway.”

The end credits rolled down the screen a few minutes later and you closed your book. Jack looked like he had zoned out again as you continued to play with his hair. He was probably tired. Even nephilim had to burn out at some point. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed. You look like you should too”, you suggested, pushing a few stray stands of blonde away from his forehead. 

“Maybe. I’ll only wake up in a couple hours anyway. Can I stay up longer? I want to watch another movie”, he said, sitting up to let you up.

“Go ahead. I’m not your mom, you can stay up late if you want. Just don’t start Star Wars without me.”

Being a Winchester meant very few nights of peaceful sleep, luckily tonight was just the usual nightmares of being torn apart by various monsters. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before. So when you woke up in a cold sweat, you shook off the fear and decided to grab a drink before going back to sleep. The clock read 3:00 AM in big red letters, so you had only been out for a few hours. 

Jack’s bedroom door was shut when you walked past, so you assumed he had turned in sometime after you. You crept down to the kitchen as quietly as possible to avoid waking him. You grabbed a drink of water and checked your phone for any notifications, nothing from the boys yet but they weren’t supposed to be home until next week due to complications according to their last call. From somewhere down the hall you heard a floorboard creek. If Jack had woken up you would have heard his door, the hinges in the bunker weren’t exactly well oiled. The hairs stood up on the back of your neck and you set your glass down silently. 

The hall was dimly lit but there was no sign of anything that could have made the noise. You sighed. You were just on edge from that nightmare, the bunker was decades old if ever there was the time to use the “house settling” excuse it was with this ancient building. You turned the corner back down your hallway and was suddenly slammed up against the wall. You let out a gasp that would have turned into a very loud scream if your eyes hadn’t met a pair of blue ones. 

“Jack”, you breathed, “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Jack stared you down silently. His grip on your wrists was tight and it made you wonder if he knew just how tight. His gaze was intense almost like…

“You can ease up a little bit there, tiger”, you whispered and his eyes softened along with his grip. 

“I’m sorry. Did I actually hurt you?”, he asked nervously. 

You shook your head, “I think I’ll live. What are you doing?”

His cheeks turned red, “In the movie, you said this was romantic.”

Oh. Now it was your turn for your cheeks to heat up. 

“Jack...”

“I feel tingly and happy when I’m around you, Y/n”, he said sincerely, “You said that means I’m in love.”

“You’ve never been in love before, Jack. Love is more than just tingly feelings. It’s something that you have to figure out and learn on your own”, you explained. 

“You don’t love me?”

That damn near broke your heart. You shook free one of your hands and caressed his cheek softly. “Jack, I like you way too much than I should already and could well be on the road to loving you. But I don’t want you to think you’re in love with me just because I’m one of the only people you’re around-”

He shook his head, “I’ve seen other people though. No one has ever made me feel like you do. I thought there was something wrong with me but it doesn’t feel bad. It feels good, like pancakes or grocery shopping or you playing with my hair.” 

Forget being on the road, you had reached your destination. You were definitely in love with Lucifer’s son. His eyes bore into yours and you couldn’t take it anymore. You surged forward and pressed your lips to his. His hands landed on your hips as you threaded your fingers into his hair. The kiss was hot and messy, that was the only indication that this was Jack’s first time doing something like this. Of course he would also be a perfect kisser. You pulled away after a few more moments, breathing harshly. 

Jack beamed at you, “Can we do that again?”

You laughed, “Yes, Jack. But maybe after a couple hours of sleep.” You swore he was pouting.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”, he asked, “I heard you earlier, you had another nightmare.”

“Did I wake you?”

He shook his head, “No, I haven’t gone to bed yet.”

That’s why you had heard creaking, it really was Jack moving around. 

If anyone had told Sam and Dean Winchester a couple months ago that they would come home to find their little sister cuddled up to Lucifer’s son in bed, they would have laughed in their faces. But that was then and now Dean was looking absolutely mortified and about to blow as Sam dragged him out of the doorway so as to not wake them up.

[bomberqueen17]

Extra Dad Jokes

So I’m back to Rochester, having spent the weekend in Buffalo cleaning out my basement so that we can get a new furnace immediately. It’s not an emergency but there’s a rebate if we get it installed before the end of June so it’s kind of an emergency. And for the first time in my life i’ll have central air, which doesn’t seem like it would matter most of the time in this climate until suddenly, like this weekend, boy does it ever.

So anyway I got back to Rochester just in time for Xboxing, except DF was playing his glitter robots game instead, for so long I got fiercely bored and ate my feelings about it. (Actually MM and I just wound up having deeply deranged conversations, as one does. Listen, she and DF had gone on a date, sort of-- they’d left the kids with the neighbor girl who babysits, and had gone on a walk to the 7/11 and bought fizzy drinks from the fridge, which like, wasn’t essential of them, and was very defiant, but they did wear masks the whole time and we’re supposed to be reopening here. Who knows, it felt very decadent. 

Anyway. Just as I was despairing and getting ready to go to bed, he did eventually switch over to Witcher, huzzah. 

We resumed in Novigrad, and took a moment to admire Geralt, resplendent in his newly-acquired Griffin armor, which all matches.

Immediately, we came upon a group of humans beating up an elf. Geralt saved the elf by slaughtering the humans; DF had expected it to be a fistfight and nearly got killed when the humans went full-in with swords. “What the shit,” he said, and proceeded to carve them up while a washerwoman shrieked unceasingly. They each dropped a different lunch entree as their loot, which DF happily collected. He then told the elf to get out of town, which was the less-bad dialogue option. They seem to be trying to tell us something about interracial tensions in Novigrad.

We picked up Following The Thread; I missed when we’d acquired that contract but it was about a monster that had been bothering the local guard outpost. I recognized which quest it was, though, as soon as the guy told us someone else had already taken the contract, but we should go look at the body of the homeless guy that the monster had eaten. 

“Ohhhhhh,” I said, probably obnoxiously, “I know who took the contract,” as poor DF was trying to follow the prints, lost them in the water, doubled back, jumped in the water again, and I was finally like “Just check the mill, man, you-- there’s blood right there, look at the blood.”

“Oh yeah,” he said.  We stepped in the door of the mill and there were audible fighting sounds coming from upstairs. Unconcerned, DF loaded up his inventory screen, figured out what he wanted to oil himself with, got his quickdraw slots loaded up, yadda yadda, and then went up the stairs.

There was already someone fighting the monster, which was an ekimmara. Another Witcher. “HI LAMBERT,” I yelled. 

“We know this guy?” DF said. “Oh he was in the tutorial. Right. This guy.” He quickly and brutally dispatched the ekimmara, and was like, “Do we like this guy?”

“We do,” I said. “We super do.”

The cutscene unfolded just fine, and we went with Lambert to collect the reward, and Lambert immediately started getting weirdly aggressive. “What the shit,” DF said, and then Lambert absconded and left Geralt to face three level 9 guards on his own who suddenly wanted to murder him, and DF was like, “what the shit”, and when we caught up with Lambert there was a dialogue option literally labeled as What the hell, Lambert and DF picked that one and was like “we like this guy??”

“He’s kind of an asshole,” I said, “but he’s like, ride-or-die,” and DF was like “hm” and it finally struck me that DF is an only child and doesn’t totally understand that dynamic. Like, yeah, no shit Lambert’s an asshole, but God forbid someone else hurts him. No way!

(DF’s kids would understand, though. They’re currently scream-wrestling one another in the other room, but I tried to break it up and they were like no WTF we’re enjoying this how dare u (i mean, in, like, kindergartner language ofc) and I’m like you know what, fine, just don’t put anybody through a window or anything. I’m about to teach them the concept of safewords because I can’t tell if they’re really upset or not half the time.)

(One time I idly observed to one of my sisters that I’d ask a different sister to help me hide a body if I ever had the need, and she was actively insulted that I wouldn’t ask her first. [I have three, so. Options.] At the next whole-family get together they actually argued over which of them would be most useful at body-hiding. I’d be the least good at it, by the way, if you were ever wondering, out of the four of us, but like, one of us is a pig farmer and another is a military logistics specialist and the third is just real good at planning a party.)

So we agree to meet up with Lambert later to discuss His Behavior after he executes a man, but DF had the brilliant idea to go back to the mill to check and see if the ekimmara had dropped loot, which it super had, so that was worth it, and then we got derailed briefly by a random level 2 quest that gave us 1 xp for solving it, but 40 xp for using Axii on a guy, and the incalculable value of letting Geralt make a really stupid Dad pun. The character’s name is Mugs, and Geralt observes that he said he’d gotten... mugged, and as he says it, he hesitates, then like cuts his eyes to one side, like he’s checking to see if he can actually get away with saying this, and the guy he’s talking to is the target of the Axii mind-control so he actually does get away with saying it which only encourages him, argh. (DF was inappropriately amused. It’s only encouraging him too, no, god damn it. The puns alone are why this game’s a hard R. Keep that shit away from impressionable minds.)

“This dank establishment is frequented by a shady clientele,” says the map, of the inn where we’re going to meet Lambert. 

“I don’t think they’re using dank the way I do,” DF ruminated. 

Unprompted, he asked Lambert for the whole story of Why He’s Executing People And Setting Geralt Up To Have To Fight Guards Without Warning. Lambert makes his tight-jawed way through The Story of Aiden, and I stage-whisper to MM “that’s his boyfriend, his boyfriend got murdered” and she’s like awww and DF is like aww and we concluded he was probably Correct to be slightly unhinged about all of it.

so we managed to keep Lambert from murdering anyone else, but we got given a quest to go to Skellige.

That’s two different quests asking us to go to Skellige, and DF was like, why not?? So he started looking around for a ship that would go there.

As we were walking near the harbor, a strange many-legged snake thing ran by on the ground. Perplexed, we followed it. It was--- a whole bunch of rats, all running together, looking like a big snake, but way more wiggly. It was horrifying. We followed it as it wove its way down the street, waiting for it to do something, or mean something. 

Then it got itself lodged under a cart, and showed mostly as a writhing horror of pink tails all facing the same way, wriggling like tentacles. It was truly horrifying. Eventually, DF had Geralt throw an Igni at it-- but nothing happened; the cart caught fire in a desultory sort of fashion, but the rats kept wriggling in place.

“A glitch,” we concluded, and left it, walking away.

We did another little quest, from the noticeboard, a merchant. Geralt very, very clearly was pleased with himself as he whipped out another Dad Pun:

“Is there an imp or was it an imp... erfection in the notice?”

The merchant did not laugh. Geralt was unrepentant. We haggled over the price the guy would pay for the job. “Small businesses are the foundation of the economy,” Geralt intoned, sarcastically, activating his Maximum Dad Powers as he went off into the night. 

We had to track the thing around, and eventually wound up in some guy’s house. It became clear he was a shapeshifter of some kind, from an Incriminating Letter that was left out on the counter saying “once you’ve read this, burn it, I mean that for real”. 

There were a lot of lootable items in the house. DF won’t take loot that’s somebody’s; that would be stealing. Except there was some dried fruit and nuts. “Trail mix is trail mix,” DF said fervently, “I’m not turning down trail mix.” 

We chased the shapeshifter-- a Doppler, as it happened-- and found him in some sort of altercation with an elf, which we couldn’t tell the actual hostility of. Geralt pointed out that the Doppler was a Doppler, whereupon he fled. Geralt chased him, and caught up to him eventually, and then the Doppler took on Geralt’s appearance.

The Dad’s Greatest Lines kept coming: Geralt’s sole response was, oh man, I look so old. There followed a desultory fight, and then the Doppler gave over; he’d absorbed all of Geralt’s physical traits but didn’t have his reflexes. More importantly, he’d accessed enough of Geralt’s memories to realize that the Witcher wouldn’t kill him. Geralt told him to leave town, and the Doppler gave him a pile of money.

Recovering from that, we moved along and came across a group of Elves beating a man to death in an alley. The only options we had were to interfere or not; if we interfered, then we could choose to let the Elves kill the man, who they accused without proof of having sold tainted fisstech to their young, killing several of them, OR we could slaughter all the Elves and let the man run off. Again having assumed it would be a fistfight, DF chose to fight the Elves, and then had to kill them or be killed. That one didn’t feel very good. I half want to look up and see what the right choice was, but don’t think it’ll yield much. 

Thereafter we resumed our attempts to get to Skellige. 

We found a drunk who was willing to sail us there. (A purse with a thousand coins: “heavy like a bull’s ballsack,” he deemed it. WTF.) So we got on a boat.

There was a cutscene, clearly animated by a team of humans who had none of them ever been on a boat; zoomed in, a side table, with a candle on a pedestal holder sitting there, no shade or anything on it, and Geralt leans his swords against the table as if there’s any chance in fucking hell that they’re not immediately going to fall over and knock the candle onto him as he lies asleep, and then lies down, ostentatiously shirtless, to sleep. Then: pirates, attacking the ship! he runs out, fully clothed, swords strapped on. WTF was that cutscene. Why show him naked and unarmed. Why. 

(It is, for the record, the first time he is shown sleeping in the game since he awakes from the dream that is the intro module. This suggests that he sleeps purely for fun, approximately twice per quarter-year.)

The fight with the pirates is playable but it doesn’t matter what you do, there’s a cutscene at the end so that you wind up washed up on shore. And then a guy tries to steal your medallion.

We looted the beach, killed a bunch of sirens, and then got cornered by a level Red Skull Of Death Ekhinda, whatever that is, so we had to kill that thing too. We got every bit of storm-wrack and looted everything we could find, but could not find the ship’s captain, who is supposed to be there and still have the heavy-like-a-bull’s-ballsack coinpurse. We might have to look again tonight.

We wound up getting sucked into another cutscene though, and met Yennefer again at a Viking funeral. And Geralt greets Yennefer with a choice of lines, that range from Neutral to Horny. DF chose Horny: “You smell wonderful.” “We’re at a funeral,” she replies, annoyed. “You smell wonderful at this funeral.” Come the fuck on, Geralt. 

We managed to escape the cutscenes. “I’ll see you shortly at the wake,” Yennefer says crisply, and of course Geralt says “I’ll be there,” but the way quests work they’ll just wait indefinitely until he comes back, so we scarpered to the other end of the island for Lambert’s quest instead.

Where we promptly died, mostly because it was super fucking late and it was definitely bedtime. But like. We’ll see later if we can manage.

We need to get back to Novigrod, too; if we level up too much there’s a bunch of shit in Novigrod we won’t get any credit for doing. But DF was just curious to see Skellige, and now we’ve got fast travel points there.

[willow-salix]

Isolation update!

Day 69 of Isolation on Tracy Island.

Have you ever heard that saying, don't do a flat pack project with someone you love? Yep, well apparently the Tracy boys hadn't. Let me explain.

Virgil and I went out to gather the weekly supplies of essentials, including beard oil, gentle bear shampoo, moisturizer and other things they suddenly deemed essential now that they were hairy and to pick up any orders that had been delivered and were waiting for us.

As usual we made quick work of the essentials shopping, flying through the list as we flew through the aisles, in and out in under an hour, which just goes to show how fast you can get things done when you don’t have Grandma or Gordon with you.

We stopped off at the storage unit on the way home, and once again it was like a magical mystery as to just what might be in there this week. The packages that appeared in there depended on many things, how busy we had been, how bored we were, how much time we had on our hands, which shopping hole I’d fallen into, the reasons were many and varied.

This time we had a number of boxes addressed to Brains, seven weighted hula hoops (because yes, the boys had talked me into agreeing to teach them as well as Kayo) a few other boxes of things that had been ordered and two large, very heavy crates addressed to Gordon. Virgil had to strap on his exo-suit just to get them loaded into Two’s pod.

“What do you think he’s ordered?” I asked as we headed back home.

“It’s Gordon, it could literally be anything, I gave up guessing what he was up to when he was five.”

“That instills me with such confidence, thank you for that.”

“You expected me to lie?”

“No, I expected you to evade the truth for comfort purposes.”

“Next time, ask Scott.”

We left Gordon’s crates in the hanger and went to grab some lunch, and by grab lunch I mean I stole half of John’s sandwich and poured a cup of coffee, that would do, we may have snacked on Doritos on the way home.

“Gordo, you’ve got two crates down in the hanger,” Virgil told him as he took my coffee cup.

“Yesss!” Gordon ran off without another word.

“Is nothing safe in this house?” I asked, pouring another cup of coffee for myself.

“You just took my sandwich,” John pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“”How?”

“Because what’s mine is yours and yours is mine, it’s how life works.”

“I don’t think that counts with food.”

“Sure it does, also you have a package,” I slid it over. “Did you buy me something nice?”

“If a new GPU for the gaming computer I’m building for Alan is nice for you, then sure.”

I made a face. “No, it’s fine, he can have it.”

“Generous of you,” he replied, stealing my coffee.

***

Gordon hadn’t returned almost an hour later after we finished our leisurely lunch, so in our infinite wisdom, we decided to track him down and see if he needed any help. It turned out he needed way more than we had expected.

“Gordon, what the heck?” Virgil stared in disbelief, taking in the mass of parts that were spread all over the floor of the hanger. Gordon was sitting in the middle of them, looking like he’d lost the will to live.

“Virgil, thank God, you have to help me,” he begged.

“What do you even have here?” John asked, looking around in disbelief.

“It’s supposed to be a golf cart.”

“A golf cart?” I asked, not sure I’d actually heard him properly. The island had a lot of things but a golf course was not one of them. “Why would you need a golf cart?”

“Two.”

“Bless you.”

“No, two, as in I have two.”

“Two of them? What are you going to do with two golf carts?” I had to ask.

John, being the sensible one, had located the instructions still inside the crate and had been studying them.

“Correction, what are you going to do with two old golf carts from 2006?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. So, will you help me?”

We should never have said yes. That was our first mistake.

Two hours later, Alan, Scott and Brains had joined us and I wasn't talking to any of them because they were just ridiculous.

“How can we not figure out how to put this together?” Gordon groaned. “We have two engineers and an electronics wizard and the rest of us aren't dumb either, yet we still can’t get past this?”

“How long have they been doing this?” Kayo asked me. We were perched on the discarded crate and happily sipping OJ.

“Coming up to three hours now I think.”

“I bet we could do it quicker than them,” she whispered.

“Oh, undoubtedly. All they have done is argue. John is trying to follow the instructions but Brains is trying to improve them.”

She snorted.

“Virgil is trying to go through it methodically and lay out all the pieces, but Alan keeps picking them up and asking John what they are, making him look them up and then putting them back in the wrong place.”

“Typical.”

“And Scott and Gordon are arguing because Scott is trying to direct everyone and Gordon is insisting that it’s his golf cart and it should be his way.”

“I expected nothing less. So, how about it, should we show them how it’s done?”

“Damn straight.”

We dragged the frame out of the crate and pushed it out of the way and then retrieved everything else inside.

“What are you two doing with my golf cart?” Gordon asked.

“We’re putting it together for you,” Kayo answered.

“Yeah right,” he laughed.

“Do you not think we’re capable of putting together a little golf cart?” I asked, narrowing my eyes dangerously.

“I wouldn't answer that if I was you,” Scott advised. But as ever Gordon was in an argumentative mood.

“I wouldn't say incapable, but I think you’ll be there for the next week.”

“I bet we can get it done quicker than you idiots can,” Kayo challenged.

“You’re on,” Gordon stood up to shake both our hands.

It was one of those DIY golf cart kits so it should have been easy enough for the geniuses in this family but, like with most things when all five of them were involved, it had not gone quite to plan.

We located the instructions and sat down to read them and plan out how we were going to tackle it.

“Ground up I think is best,” I suggested.

“Makes sense,” she agreed.

“Set everything out so we know what we have and put it in sections?”

“Yep, that’ll work.”

We spent half an hour hauling everything out of the crate and laying it out.

“Are you girls done prettying up the place?” Gordon called over to us.

We didn't rise to the bait, they were still arguing over which was the front or the back of the seat.

We found the engine mount and lifted it into place, I helped a bit but honestly Kayo is as strong as an ox, she hides a lot of power in her slender frame and she could have probably lifted it on her own. We screwed it into place and then got to work putting together the wiring loom.

The wiring was actually pretty simple, the loom came as a mostly complete unit and all we had to do was make sure we left enough…

“That wire is too short! It doesn't reach. Who had that job?”

“Wiring is down to John!”

“Don’t blame me! I told you that you needed to actually measure it and not just do it by eye!”

“It was still your job!”

OK I take it back, apparently the wiring wasn't simple for everyone.

The rear suspension was a little harder, but between us we managed to figure it out, getting the spindles and lifting blocks to stay in their right places was a bit of a challenge, but we’re girls and we’re used to getting stubborn things to behave and stay where they are put and soon powered through.

We could hear muttering coming from the boys' side of the hanger, and we saw them peeking over at us a little more often than they had before.

“Go get us a drink and some snacks and see if they want anything,” Kayo suggested. I nodded and got up.

“Want a drink, Kay?”

“Sure, can you grab me one of those smoothie bottles?”

“Sure, no worries.” I wandered past the boys on my way out.

“Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, we’re good,” Gordon insisted.

“Can you get me a smoothie too?” John asked.

“Sure, babe.”

“Why did you just do that?” Gordon hissed at John.

“Because I'm thirsty?”

“It’s a plot to spy on us and see what we're doing so they can copy us!”

I snorted. “Dude, we wouldnt be stupid enough to copy you guys.”

“Insults now?” Virgil laughed.

“Hey, if the blue pointy cap fits…” I escaped before they could yell at me any more.

I found Grandma in the kitchen, cremating a number of what I think were once chickens, I didn't look too closely.

“Where is everyone?”

“Hangers,” I answered and began to explain.

I came back with drinks and Grandma, who had wanted to join the winning team. I gave John his smoothie and left the rest a few bottles of water and went back to help Kayo with the axel, which she was trying to wrestle into place on her own. I’ll be honest, she was doing most of it herself, but we were having fun, we were chatting and laughing and ignoring the boys, which just annoyed them even more.

With the addition of Grandma for logistics we were steaming through.

With the help of a dolly and a discarded arm of a broken exo-suit we slid the engine into place and screwed it down. It was pretty simple, everything fitted in quite easily and with our more modern tools we had very little trouble.

With the engine fitted we got to work on the rear of the cart, checking the amount of tyre clearance we would need and making sure they spun freely and that the shock absorbers were situated correctly before we tightened everything down.

We could really see this thing coming together. The boys were still arguing like they were on Jerry Springer, yelling at each other, blaming each other for things they either had or hadn't done, and threatening to break various body parts.

“Right girls,” Grandma started one of her famous pep talks as we started to flag. It was late, we were all hungry and sleep was calling us. “You’re on the home stretch now. Get those breaks in, then it’s just the chassis. I’ll sort the wiring in the handle bars. Once that's done it's the finishing touches, seat, lights and horn. Then you can sleep.”

We heard the boys start to mutter under their breath, all huddled together like they were in the playoffs and only had thirty seconds left on the clock. Maybe Grandma should’ve lowered her voice...

“Look at theirs, how did they do that?”

“We’re never getting to bed tonight, are we?”

“Alan is already asleep.”

“Come on, we can’t give up now, guys, we got this.”

“Girls, we can do this. I believe in us,” Grandma encouraged drawing our attention back to her and we nodded, the last thing we’d ever want to do would be let her down.

Following her instructions we got on with the breaks, working together quite well. I didn’t know that much about machinery or anything really, but I can research my butt off and read instructions perfectly. Everyone should read the instructions, I honestly don't know why men seem to be so incapable of it.

Grandma was as good as her word, she had the wires poked through the handles and connected up before we had the chassis on. We fitted the handlebars and the chassis in place and tightened everything up.

We got the seat on while Grandma got the lights connected up and put the bulbs in. The horn was the last thing.

We put the battery on charge, tucked our baby into bed and called it a night.

John slumped his way into the kitchen with Virgil about four in the morning. We’d gone to bed around half two after throwing some pizzas in the oven and having ourselves a little past midnight feast, leaving a few for the boys. I’d gone to bed but couldn't sleep, having eaten late and gone past my tiredness barrier. Deciding that a hot chocolate sounded amazing I’d gotten up again.

The boys were almost dead on their feet. They had taken Alan to bed and tried to bully Scott and Gordon into moving but both had refused to quit, as had Brains, who was apparently over engineering everything and making things so much harder. I don't know how boys manage to make everything so difficult and complicate the simplest of things.

I took pity on them both and made them a hot drink too and warmed up some pizza, making sure they had eaten before I marched them to bed.

“How bad was it?” I asked John after we’d brushed our teeth.

“How bad do you think?”

“Parker trying to explain filling FAB 0’s gas tank to Alan, bad?”

“Times that by ten,” he flopped face first onto the bed and refused to move again.

I’ve still got no clue what Gordon wants with two vintage golf carts, but I guess we’ll find out soon. At least I know one will be properly put together.

[victoodles]

Corruption (Crowley x Angel Reader) Part 1

I finished Good Omens yesterday and I wrote this today. The second part (aka the filth) will be coming soon! Also on AO3!

Goody Two-Shoes

That’s what he'd been calling you for the past 6,000 years or so. You were a rule-abiding angel - obediently following orders with no questions asked. Always with an eager flap of your wings. Past tense, however, is key here.

Were.

Now you found yourself lazily draped over the arm of a demon’s throne in his own abode, white dress pooling around your thighs. A cup of wine in hand, held up in the air as you idly swished the liquid. You felt like a girl in one of those oil paintings you saw during the Renaissance.

Like ‘The Venus of Urbino’

Crowley chuckled, bemused but humored. “Like the what now?”

“Oh! Nothing,” you said, forgetting the thought with a swig of your drink. You hadn’t realized you’d actually spoken aloud.

He had recently turned you on to the joys of wine: Chardonnay, Sauvignon blanc, Cabernet, the list goes on. Those uppity Archangels had created a trend amongst the humans. They claimed the stuff was a vice, abhorrent, and immensely sinful. How drab.

Later on, they passed it down the angel hierarchy as gospel, essentially condemning it. It was clearly meant for slothful humans with no faith. You made it a priority to avoid it at all costs, lest you eternally displease your overseers.

However, it seemed Crowley was to be much more...persuasive than the hogwash lectures from Gabriel and Michael. The influence they had over you was unraveling, as much as you tried to deny it.

For this, Crowley seemed to find quite a bit of fun in teasing you throughout the centuries. He ruffled your feathers, quite literally. You had always been by the books - no ifs, ands, or buts. After all, the higher-ups did assign you to tote after Aziraphale once he “lost” his flaming sword. Keep him on the straight and narrow. You hadn't expected the infamous snake of Eden to be along for the ride.

Crowley had quickly made a game with his friend on how many times in one conversation he could make you scoff in contempt. His current record was seventeen.

But the tit for tat was never malicious in nature like his kind was so inclined towards. Much like Aziraphale, he thoroughly enjoyed your company and the banter along with it.

Perhaps even a tad more than Aziraphale.

Try as you may, you couldn’t fathom why the angel would ever keep the company of a demon like Crowley. Demons and angels went together as well as one could expect of fire and gasoline. But despite all your angelic instincts, you decided to keep their friendship (and yours) out of your reports to Heaven.

And as much as you tried to remain prickled towards him, you soon found yourself inching closer and closer to Crowley.

“So I told Cain, ‘In my humble opinion, I think Abel isn’t worth his sheeps' shit.’ I thought he would take it out on his brother’s herd, not beat him to death with a rock,” Crowley explained with an exasperated sigh. “Alas.”

Appalled but not surprised, you clapped a hand over your mouth. “You aided in creating humankind’s first killer?!” Pride tugged at the corner of Crowley’s lips at your declaration.

“Well when you put it like that, it sounds far more exciting doesn’t it?”

You threw a velvet cushion at his head - he dodged it with a laugh. “Crowley! That’s terrible,” you squealed. Crowley leaned back on his palms along his stone table, shrugging nonchalantly.

“In my defense, Cain did receive protection and promises of vengeance from God afterwards,” he said as if it were something to boast about.

“Only for the price of everlasting exile,” you barked back dryly. Crowley regarded you from behind his sunglasses, a devilish (no pun intended) smirk on his face.

“Oh sorry, princess, I forget how positively tame you are in comparison.” Pink rushed to your cheeks at the emphasis on your new nickname. He had a plethora of them -  sometimes a new one for each day of the week.

But the innuendo behind this one had your wings twitching against your back, eager to hide your newfound bashfulness. It was a habit you inadvertently developed whenever Crowley decided to get especially cheeky with you.  

“E-excuse me,” your voice wavered, rising an octave with each pronounced syllable. Crowley’s simper only grew. He brought the bottle of wine on the table to his lips, ignoring the glass he had already poured.

“You’re not exactly the most anarchic, princess. Peace and order appeals to you too much to have any real fun,” he mocked with a click of his tongue.

How dare he!

You turned your nose up at him, “I’ll have you know, Mister Crowley, that I can be quite adventurous.” As if to prove the sentiment, you raised your glass at him. “See? I’m drunk, with a demon!”

That last point was made to really drive home the fact of how bad you were. Crowley was not impressed. He took a hearty sip from his bottle, rolling his eyes in the process. Your frustration only grew at his dismissal.

Crowley regarded you as he drank, loving how the remnants of your blush left your cheeks an enchanting shade of red. You always seemed to captivate him regardless of circumstances. To say he was attracted to your purity, amongst other things, wouldn’t be too far from the truth

A purity he selfishly wanted all to himself.

The demon found himself quite enamored with you for reasons that would be too...saccharine for someone of his ilk to admit. But when you look at him with your big doe-eyes, the heart he swears he doesn’t have beats just a little bit faster. Though he persistently insists it’s just to appear more human when Aziraphale inquires.

He can’t help it. The moment that innocent gaze turns into a fiery glower, he swears he’s never seen anything more intense in his existence.

Sultry. That’s the best word he can use to describe you right you right now. Pursing your lips on the rim of your glass, you attempt to quell your agitation with wine. Your free arm hand loosely grasps the back of the chair, head lolled. He took note of how much leg you were showing as you gently swung your feet back and forth. There wasn’t an ounce of virtue in your posture.

If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought you a succubus, attempting to disarm and seduce him.

A thought crossed his mind as he released the bottle from his mouth with a pop.

“You know,” he began, slowly licking the remnants of wine off his lips. You noticed, and tried to ignore the thrumming in your chest. “I bet you’ve never indulged in any of the other physical pleasures humanity has to offer,” he said lasciviously.

Plush feathers tickled your spine as you desperately tried to contain your wings. You lurched forward in your seat, choking on wine while he has the gaul to snicker at you.

“The audacity-“

“Well have you,” he cuts you off before you can chastise him. You’re taken aback by how forward he’s being. Petulance then fills you.

“O-of course I have,” you sputter pathetically. He quirked an eyebrow, silently asking you to continue. You face forward, straightening yourself out in a sad attempt to gather more composure.

“...There was a sweet Parisian lad who took me to Carnaval way back when. He tried to teach me to dance and, well, you know how the saying goes. In the end he graced me with a kiss on the cheek under the moonlight. Oh, it was all rather romantic.”

“Quite the little minx, ain’t you? I feel like a sinner in church just listening to ya, princess,” Crowley huffed, throwing back another gulp.

You were burning up more than you knew possible. While other ethereal inhabitants may choose to partake in certain...activities, you decided to stick to modesty. To be chaste. It’s how all proper angels should be!

Right?  

“And I suppose you have then,” you grumbled, defeated.

With that, Crowley’s demeanor shifted. Previous inhibitions gone from a simple question.

He placed the bottle back down, removing his sunglasses in the process. Serpentine eyes, half lidded and glowing a faint yellow in the evening light, bore into you. His legs spread tantalizingly.

Another pang against your ribs.

It suddenly ceased when he pushed himself up and began to saunter over to you.

“Why yes,” he said sensually as he approached.

“Yes.”

Step.

“I.”

Step.

“Have.” His hand found a perch on the ornate backrest as he towered above you. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and stood between them. You inhaled sharply, your glass slipping from your grasp and shattering harshly on the floor beside you. Neither of you paid the mess any mind.

Crowley chuckled darkly, daring to lean in closer. “Lust, quite an enjoyable thing really. Lucifer truly did the world a kindness with that particular circle of Hell,” he mused, looking downward almost fondly. His free hand caressed your cheek, featherlight.

Ironically, you felt heavier. The weight of your unspoken attraction to the demon was crashing down upon you. You tried, for countless years, to subdue any unseemly desires. An angel could not intimately coexist with their mortal enemy, a demon.

...Right?

It had always been a challenge the more attached you became to Earth. To Crowley. Your efforts were tumultuous, yet overall successful. But now, in this moment, it was unbearable.

Suffocating.

Again Crowley slid closer, noses mere inches apart. The sweetness of the wine still lingered on him. “Skin on skin. A heat in your belly that can only be satiated by submitting to carnal urges. Kissing, biting, fucking,” he purred against the shell of your ear.

An unfamiliar shiver wracked your body; you’ve never been this close to another soul before. The rumble of his impish laughter sent that same shiver lower that time.

Those eyes, snakelike but bewitching, they had to be putting you in some sort of trance. It was intoxicating - may it forever bound you within it’s honied depths.

Those eyes.

Behind them was longing, need, warmth.

“Tell me, Angel,” his thumb traces your plush bottom lip. “Would you like to know?”

Ensnared.

“K-know what?” The words were barely a whisper.

The devil always hears.

You planted your own Garden of Eden and reached for the apple of your own accord. The snake hisses with delight from beyond the underbrush.

“Would you like to know what it’s like?” His lips are almost upon yours now, waiting patiently for what they knew would eventually come.

Temptation is a cruel master.

[mobius-prime]

58. Special - Sonic and Knuckles Mecha Madness

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Mecha Madness

Writer: Michael Gallagher Pencils: Pat Spaziante Colors: Kyle Hunter

Oh boy, time to see what "Operation Last Resort" is! Turns out, it involves a portable roboticizer - the same one, in fact, that partially roboticized Bunnie all the way back in StH#3. Apparently they actually took it with them when they rescued Bunnie, and Sally's been having Rotor fix it up this whole time in case of such an emergency. It even has a built-in neuro-overrider to let the person inside keep… their… okay, hang on. I'm calling BS. You're telling me that this entire time they've had a portable roboticizer which functions normally, lets the person keep their mind, and as revealed later in the issue even comes with a reverse function that can deroboticize any 'bot that it's created? Can you say plot holes? First of all, since this is Bunnie's roboticizer, it should be the simplest matter ever to stick her in it and give her her organic body back. I guess you could fudge around and say, well, there's too many risks since her process was interrupted and whatnot, but the other problem comes with the fact that two different issues now have had this same drama about someone being roboticized and not having kept their normal mind. How different would literally the last issue have gone if Sally, in response to Sonic's request, had said "Well sure Sonic, we have a nearly-risk-free option right here in Knothole Village. With your consent we'll throw you in it and have Robotnik defeated and in prison by lunchtime"? There would be absolutely no risk of him losing his mind and becoming a slave of Robotnik's! Sure it would come with physical risks, but since when has Sonic ever balked at a risk of death or injury before?

Man, the only way we'll be able to get through this issue is if we just pretend there's no plot holes, so I'll stop my yapping and move on. Knuckles comes to, and after deliriously trying to punch several of the Freedom Fighters present Sally kicks him in the back, which makes him recognize her, because I guess she's the only one who's ever kicked him in the back like that. Healthy relationship, guys! They get a bit gaga over each other for a little while, reminiscing on their past together - apparently Sally's father used to vacation on the Floating Island when Knuckles' father was still guardian and before Robotnik's takeover. Really, this issue makes it seem like they have a residual crush on each other, with Sally in particular still being affected by it. Man, Sally, how many crushes can you have at once? I still insist she's polyamorous. Things would be so much easier for her if she could just date multiple people at once. After a bit more discussion, Sally tells him the plan, and apparently Knuckles just cannot wait to scoot his booty into the 'botmaker and get roboticized.

Everyone actually acts quite terrified by using this option, with Rotor even questioning Sally if this makes them "no better than Robotnik." While it's played for laughs with Sally's response of "Et tu, Rotor?" honestly all this makes me think is that these literal kids (none of them is over 18 at this point) are definitely traumatized by all the crap they've gone through in this war. For basically their entire lives, getting roboticized has been synonymous with psychological warfare and death, with only a handful of examples otherwise (such as Uncle Chuck and the people he rescued a few issues ago, but even then that's an incredibly recent occurrence). It's clear they're having a hard time getting over this association in their minds, apart from Sally, who's the pragmatist of the group, and Knuckles, who… well, has spent most of his time away from the war anyway, and thus doesn't have the same fear.

As all this is going on, Tails is the last to evacuate Knothole himself while Mecha Sonic lays waste to all its buildings, and as such is spotted and targeted. He tries to fly away to safety, but it's hopeless. He's still within reach of Mecha Sonic's blasters, and Mecha Sonic locks on… and…

…hesitates! Sonic, you still in there buddy? He seems to be fighting back somehow, even though Robotnik's apparently upgraded his roboticizers since Sally's old attempts to thwart them. Not a problem for Robotnik though, since he has nuclear bombs, apparently! Jeez, man, he's really serious about taking these guys out for good. After a little while, Mecha Knuckles emerges from the roboticizer, and engages Mecha Sonic in battle, conveniently right before Mecha Sonic can tell Robotnik the coordinates of Knothole. They duke it out midair for a little while, until Mecha Sonic eventually hits Mecha Knuckles hard enough to knock him back straight toward Robotropolis, on a direct course for wherever Robotnik stores his nuclear warheads. Mecha Knuckles, determined to take out Mecha Sonic no matter what, grabs him with a magnetic pull, and together, they hit the stockpile.

Oh, boy.

Everyone back home is in tears. Certainly, as confirmed by Nicole, there's no way they could have survived a nuclear blast like that, not even with upgraded robotic bodies. Sally has to take a few moments away from the group to hide her tears. It's pretty damn bleak.

So, turns out that the blast just straight up ripped a hole in the middle of Robotnik's city, vaporizing basically every building in its path and irradiating the crater. This is some serious damage. No mention of the fact that this probably just killed untold numbers of roboticized Mobians who were stuck inside that section of the city, however, because Robotnik then emerges from an underground shelter, straight into the radiation - how messed up is this guy, dude? He drinks motor oil like it's a nice glass of wine, never exercises, and already lives in a city made out of pollution, and now he can just walk right out into the site of a nuclear bomb explosion with no issue? Anyway, he then happens to find Mecha Sonic's mangled body, somehow still barely alive, though heavily malfunctioning. Oh, and Mecha Knuckles is alive, too, so Robotnik gets punched in the head.

Mecha Knuckles isn't doing so hot, but incredibly, he recounts how just before the impact Mecha Sonic switched their places so he would take most of the brunt of the blast instead. Mecha Knuckles heads back to the Freedom Fighters with Mecha Sonic in tow, to Sally's immense relief, and they get ready to deroboticize Knuckles.

Aww, poor Sonic. Literally, he thinks he doesn't deserve to be saved after what he did, despite it not even being his fault. That's some seriously heavy stuff for a fifteen year old, man. Of course, Sally isn't about to take that. Nicole is able to run some tests and confirm that somehow, back when Sonic collected his one billionth ring and went on that crazy drug trip with the Ancient Walkers, it gave him a magical protection around his "life force," which allowed him to keep some of his personality even while roboticized. I don't know how the hell all that is supposed to work, but essentially, she's certain she'll be able to use that life force protection to deroboticize him even without the help of any machinery, since all of Rotor's equipment was destroyed in the attack on Knothole.

Miraculously, it works, and after a few moments, Sonic is back to normal, although suffering from one hell of a migraine and unable to remember anything from his time as Mecha Sonic. At first everyone is quite happy to have him back, but then he sasses Knuckles right out of the roboticizer, who glides away in a huff, and from there things start to turn sour.

Yeah, you didn't think everyone forgot about his supposed disobedience of a direct order, did you? He's handcuffed and marched away in preparation for a court-martial, as he's now suspected of treason! Remember, from Sonic's point of view, this is all he remembers: got denied his proposition, walked away and passed out, woke up in very brief agony before everything going blank, and then woke up again on the floor with a migraine. He has no idea what has even happened these past two issues, and now he's suddenly being dragged away in cuffs. Can you imagine? This poor guy.

Don't Let the Island Hit You on the Way Down!

Writer: Kent Taylor Pencils: Harvey Mercadoocasio Colors: Kyle Hunter

Well, we couldn't have an epic issue like this without a couple of silly "nothing" stories following it, so time to see what the Chaotix were doing while Knuckles was away being a robot and everything. Turns out they're under attack from the "Fearsome Foursome," a random group of Mobians who are apparently just interested in kicking some ass. The Chaotix get slapped around for a little while before regrouping and fighting back.

It goes on for a weirdly long amount of time considering nothing even happens in this story until like, six pages in. All they do is punch each other around. Suddenly, a mysterious figure emerges onto the scene: Mammoth Mogul, a gigantic mammoth with delusions of grandeur. Apparently, he was actually born in prehistoric times, but a chance encounter with a Chaos Emerald granted him mysterious powers and immortality, and as such he declared himself ruler of Mobius while sitting on a throne wearing a loincloth that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. People eventually couldn't take his manspreading on the throne any longer and ousted him as their leader, and so he just bided his time for millennia until the modern day, where he assembled this really weird ragtag team and is now intending to take the Floating Island's Chaos Emerald for his own, since apparently there are absolutely no other Chaos Emeralds for him to choose from on the planet right now.

The Chaotix respond by punching him in the face in unison, and he immediately retreats, insisting he'll be back at a better time. He literally just jumps into a hovercar straight out of the punch and zooms away at top speed while essentially doing the stereotypical villain thing of shaking his fist and yelling "I'll be back, mark my words!" C'mon, man, you're apparently this immortal god-being from prehistoric times and four random dudes slapping you is enough to drive you back? What a wuss.

Eel of Fortune

Writer: Michael Gallagher Pencils: Dave Manak Colors: Kyle Hunter

This story pretty much only exists because Michael has overestimated how much people might care about the Forty Fathoms Freedom Fighters. P.B. Jellyfish encounters Octobot swimming at top speed and tries to stop and fight him, but turns out Octobot, no longer a big bad boss of the ocean, is himself running away from someone even more terrifying - Eel Capone! Yeah, this guy is basically just a big mob boss joke, even getting his own "hired mussel" (geddit? geddit?) to beat the crap out of P.B. His other friends in the F.F.F.F. find him unconscious, and Bottlenose decides to take things into his own hands by beating up Eel Capone in ninja getup, while simultaneously murdering all his lackeys! Wait, what?!

That is cold-blooded, man! No one even makes mention of the fact that Bottlenose just brutally killed like, a hundred sentient beings. They just drag Eel Capone off to "Aquatraz," and then sing a silly, pun-filled song about the battle. Guys, I can't stress this enough, but your friend is now a literal murderer. Just because he was dressed in a ninja disguise while he was doing the murdering doesn't make him any less of a killer. These weren't even roboticized mussels or anything, they were literally just some living individuals who made bad life decisions. What kind of a Freedom Fighter keeps the head honcho alive but murders all the lackeys who were just following orders? Jesus christ.

[calleo-bricriu]

What's the weirdest thing you've found in those books so far?

Aside from a whole hell of a lot of casual racism and some bizarre story about how people from the most Northern parts of Norway and Iceland hibernate for 6 months out of the year, come out, "hunt like wolves" (and eat like them), get fat, then go back to sleep for six months and I'm pretty sure he's confusing people who live in cold climates with bears there...

...the coded language.

It's not so much that the majority of it is written in heavily coded language; it's easy enough to figure out what he's talking about via context clues, though it is amusing that he starts them all with some comment about how the writing will be frank and straightforward then goes on to write in borderline code.

I'm sure, at one point, that sort of coded language was common enough to be considered and straightforward anyway. It isn't only Muggles who do that anyway, the vast majority of books on the Dark Arts in general are written in a way that, if you don't already know what you're looking at, it reads like a bunch of nonsense.

It's that he'll be doing that; going along, paragraph after paragraph, chapter after chapter, line after line, in consistently coded language, and then suddenly throws in an actually correct medical term for something--a body part, an illness, a behavioral issue, calling it a hangover instead of rambling on about poisons being stuck in your skin when it's really just dehydration (and that's why drinking water fixes it but, you know, too difficult to connect points A and B, evidently), and it's incredibly jarring.

Ends up being a bit like listening to one of those people who never swear just randomly and sometimes completely out of context saying, "fuck" but will also never acknowledge that they said it.

Like, you could have just been saying that from the beginning and we all knew what you meant with the coded language anyway, so why is 90% of it vague ways of saying the same thing?

Did he forget he was meant to be writing in coded language?

Did he even notice he'd missed one?

If you'd like a more Sinday appropriate example, there's a coded term that you'll find in heavy use in "health" books, nearly all of them written by what passed for actual trained medical people at the time, and up until about the late 1960s when there was a shift from writing those sorts of books in heavily coded language to just saying what the hell you actually mean, you see it a lot.

It's one that you'll even find in actual medical literature and not only in the dumbed down versions of it that were released to the general public.

Not only that, but you'll see entire long chapters and sometimes entire books dedicated it and everyone but, evidently, this particular doctor couldn't manage to keep it consistently coded.

"Self abuse".

Or "self-abuse", he couldn't seem to make up his mind as to whether the hyphen should be there or not and there was no consistency in it. I don't think he had a proper editor.

...or even an editor.

In a modern context, that turn of phrase is generally assumed to be very literal and in reference to doing something that is actually harmful; you're doing something to yourself that's abusive in nature, physically or psychologically.

Anyway, all it means in coded language context here is masturbation, and this guy got through nearly fifty pages of not screwing that up until the hamster in the wheel of his brain failed for exactly one time when he said what he meant in uncoded language, then he went right back to "self abuse" (or self-abuse, I guess) again.

He might have been his own editor or he was just seeing if he could get away with it, banking on the fact that his actual editor was probably only skimming.

Oh, right, and going off of that there was this entire five page rambling thing about how you shouldn't marry a woman who is over 23 because she'll have somehow ruined herself to the point of sterility via that method and I'm not really sure why 23 is the cut off age there.

Like, go wild until you're 22 then stop and it'll be...fine?

I don't actually know how he came to that conclusion, and he never felt the need to explain what bizarre thought process he used to get there.

He said he was going to explain it and the explanation was essentially, "I said what I said, you chronic pervert. I'd say keep your hands to yourself but that's how you ended up like this in the first place, isn't it?"

The constant all caps screaming about how he's not a quack is pretty great as well as it's all in this odd context of, "Okay, I know that what I'm about to say might sound weird but please keep in mind that I AM NOT A QUACK!" and would then launch into some even stranger thing like how you need to oil a horse's joints before a race and that somehow equates to--people needing to get exercise.

Can't say I'd expect more out of someone who thinks sunlight cures smallpox and diphtheria, though.

[sorensfw]

Hello!! I hope you are doing well, wonderful person! I was wondering if I could have a tarot reading? I wanted to ask the cards what obstacles are in my way and how can I overcome them? Also, can I ask the cards where should I look to continue to find strength and resilience? Thank you so much!!! Sending you lots of love.

Aww! Thank you. Having these readings really picked me up today, so...I’m doing well now. On to your reading, which kind of got big.

Deep Images[1], what obstacles are in Imisterk's way, and how can she remove them?

Deck: Silicon Dawn

This is going to be interesting, because the SD is the most Occult Magick X-Filezzz Mysterious deck I have. I keep expecting it to tell me where the aliens are landing and how to help them dethrone the reptilons embedded in the secret one world government. Adjust your tinfoil hat psychoacoustic filters accordingly. I recommend setting Alpha-six point Gamma on the flourenstein scale[2]. It's also capable of rendering serious doom and gloom readings, which is probably why it was right for reading obstacles.

Obstacles (first row, in order):

1. Fleeing ghosts of the past is leading to doing something Foolish--but this might be Foolish in the tarot sense (the physical version of this card has reflective overprinting that catches the light at the right angle and shows phantom butterfly wings on the Fool and ghostly tentacles chasing them), because it is a Fool card (this deck has four Fools).

2. A fight that just wont end, but would if you could just talk things out. Probably with someone close to you--think seventh house relationships in the astrology sense (enemies are 'close' because why bother being enemies with someone you can just forget about).

3. (Shadowed, incomplete reading here) Something about masks over your uniqueness rubbing it out (The physical version of the card looks completely black unless seen from the right angle). You're special and unusual, and this is an obstacle against having a face that isn't just the mask you wear to fit in at the party. Something I can't read for, which could be shrouded by something really powerful, or could be that I'm running into reading someone's private thoughts who isn't consenting, which is something I specifically intend my readings not to do.

4. (Shadowed again) There's a place inside you that's always watching a lightless black sun go down over the edge of a dying world where even the swords made of rusted shards of Before The Fall the last survivors have been using to squabble over the dregs of lost joy are played out. It's making everything feel as apocalyptic as that vision looks, and it's sapping a precious bodily fluid spiritual resource in a way that's not obvious, because this whole drama is happening in darkness where you don't see it going on.

Solution (second row, read left to right): Don't do complicated magic or call for help. Small actions will accumulate into world-shattering consequences if you trust and fall with it and don't make a big deal of things or try to rekindle stuff whose time is past.

This a surprisingly un-Silicon-Dawn answer, so take that into account.

Phew. Onward:

Deep Images, where should Imisterk look to continue to find strength and resilience?

Deck: Mystic Manga

...when it didn't come up Silicon Dawn again I was going to say we were back to the real world, but with the Mystic Manga it's more like we're off to read right-to-left about about the hapless Fool not noticing that all sixteen court cards have a crush on his bishie ass and are vying for his hand in mawwiage--but it's also off to a colorful happy fantasy land where everyone including you is suave and sexy and omigod those outfits right?

The reading is a mini-love-story spread, but that can mean self-love, too. Left to right the cards go:

1. Your role

2. Your work

3. Happily Ever After

4. Their work

5. Their role

It's read from the edges in.

Because of my other-people rule this usually means both partners are the querent, but that might be false if you have someone I don't know about who wouldn't mind contributing to this reading, so I'm going to read that aspect ambiguously and let you decide which you think it is.

Your role: R. 5 Wands. Something's happening. Whatever it is, don't fight it, even if the fighting-it doesn't seem that serious or is like a game. If and only if that feels fucking wrong, instead it's the other extreme: go nuclear and fight for your life--but I really doubt that for such a happy-cuddly deck.

Your work: 5 Cups. Things look kind of wrecked, and feeling better feels as far away as that castle, so the work is to see where they're not wrecked. It might seem like only two small little cups out of the many you had before, but there's enough water there to throw a party like the star is throwing in the next card. It may or may not be necessary to doff that wonderfully melancholy cape-and-buckles grief-chic ensemble, but I notice the Star's going for a more minimal look fashion-wise.

Their role: R. 6 Cups. Nostalgia, however much old times might look good, they're not a kid anymore and it's time to grow up.

Their work: High Priestess. Take a critical look at things, and don't hide your disgust (she's clearly editing her Abridged List of Things She Hates), but remember to look to your intuition, not what logically makes sense, or you'll end up just as Scroogy as she looks. Traditionally, there's a body of water peeking through the High Priestess' veil, and I read that as present here, too.

Happily Ever After: Star. Clothes have been a huge theme in this reading, and we weren’t even the doing anime-standard Deep Cleavage, when suddenly--! Both work cards have unhappy people in super-restrictive clothing and a distant body of water, and now here we are having a relaxing bath in the magical flowery lagoon of innocence with an expression that says to me “why yes I did suplex the angel with a flaming sword that turns every which way to get in here, and I’d do it again and still not give any fucks at all”. This is what happens when you and whoever it is move beyond your respective challenges and leave the armor behind. Maybe it means being vulnerable together, maybe it means sexy sex, or maybe it literally means busting out the bath bombs and essential oil diffuser and giving yourself a spa night every so often. The concrete advice depends on who's involved and whether you're in a position to figuratively or literally get naked wth them--but if you can, it will be like drinking the nectar of the gods for you both. Whatever it is, you may need to throw down a manifestation of patriarchal or religious shame or guilt or two to get at it, so don’t be afraid to rush the gatekeeper if they look like a republican senator. This would be that nuclear option from before, actually.

Good luck, and I hope this helps, and if you’re totally weirded out I hope you at least laughed along the way.

[1] It’s what I call the collective-unconscious imagery galaxies that underly the tarot archetypes and many other visual oracles. Past life thing, long story.

[2] I'm reasonably sure none of that is a real thing, but you never know.

[spread images created using BlackMirror]

[incarnationsf]

Be Ready at All Times

Gospel Reading

By the Rev. Darren Miner

Jesus’ story about a wedding that goes awry strikes a chord with me. I officiated at my nephew’s wedding some nine years ago. And a few minutes before the wedding was supposed to start, I asked the best man if he had the rings. The answer was no. Luckily, the bride was delayed. So, there was time to retrieve the rings, and the story had a happy ending. But Jesus’ allegorical parable about the Kingdom of Heaven deals with a wedding that doesn’t have quite so happy an ending.

Ten maidens from the groom’s household are waiting for him to return to the family abode with his new bride. Their job is to meet the wedding party on the road and to escort the couple to the wedding hall carrying torches (more precisely, oil lamps attached to poles).

The groom is unexpectedly delayed. Now, it turns out that five of these bridesmaids had brought no oil with them, and five had. After a long while, everyone, both the wise and the foolish, falls asleep. When the groom finally arrives hours late, the five foolish bridesmaids suddenly realize that they are missing one essential item, olive oil to keep the torches burning during the long procession.

When asked, the wise bridesmaids refuse to share. This seems rather selfish, at first glance, but the explanation is that there is not enough to last ten people for the entire procession. If they did share, all the torches would go out in the middle of the procession, and the procession would be stranded in the dark.

So, the foolish bridesmaids are sent off to the shops at midnight to buy olive oil. It would seem unlikely that a shop would be open at that hour. But the story implies that eventually they were successful.

When they get to the wedding hall, the procession is over; the wedding ceremony is over; the doors have been locked; and the party has started. Now, the locking of the doors is an anomaly. At a typical Jewish wedding in those days, the doors would normally be kept open, and guests would come and go all night long.

When the foolish bridesmaids find the door unexpectedly locked, they call out, asking to be let in. But the groom refuses to open the door, claiming he doesn’t know them. He is fibbing, of course. He knows very well who they are. But he judges them unworthy of joining the celebration.

Jesus ends by telling us the moral of the story: “Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

So how do we interpret this allegory? Well, the groom clearly represents the Messiah, Jesus himself, when he returns on the Last Day after a long delay. The ten bridesmaids represent the Christian community, and the oil for the torches probably represents faith in action. The wise are prepared for the Second Coming with a supply of good works, while the foolish have no good deeds to witness to their faith.

Finally, what about the final command to “keep awake.” Taken literally, it makes little sense, since even the wise bridesmaids in the parable fell asleep. In this context, I think we have to understand the “keep awake” command as a command to be prepared at all times.

Jesus’ parable is troubling in several respects. The wise bridesmaids, who represent good Christians, come across as selfish. The groom, who represents Jesus himself, comes across as petulant and vindictive. And the ending is not a happy one, at least not for the foolish bridesmaids.

The author Nikos Kazantzakis was so bothered by the ending, that, in his novel The Last Temptation of Christ, he changed it:

“[The bridegroom] called to his servants to open the door. ‘This is a wedding,’ he cried. ‘Let everyone eat, drink, and be merry. Open the door for the foolish virgins, and wash and refresh their feet, for they have run much.’ ”

In some ways, this rewritten ending is much more pleasing. But it has a fatal flaw: it implies that our actions in this life have no ultimate consequences. And according to Jesus, that is just not the case. So perhaps the original story, as unsatisfying as it may be, is the more truthful one.

While Jesus’ parable speaks of the Day of the Lord, when the Messiah returns unexpectedly to judge the world, it applies equally well to another event that can come unexpectedly—our own death. For one way or another, we will all stand before the Lord and be judged. Today, we have been solemnly warned to be ready at all times to face that final judgment. And how we fare will all depend on us—on our faith and on our faithfulness, on how well we have loved God and on how well we have loved our neighbor.

And so, my fellow bridesmaids, let us be wise and prepare ourselves even now for the coming of the Bridegroom, for we “know neither the day nor the hour.” Amen.

 © 2020 by Darren Miner. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

[tinalus-blog]

It is said that the journey begins the moment you start preparing for it. And that is a fact. You spread out the map across the dining table, then check out the Google versions; keep notes; calculate distances from A to B; make a note of towns and villages you intend to visit; collect ideas for various activities and “must have” experiences and finally pack your bags.

  Everything is ready for tomorrow’s most wanderlust trip! In my mind I am already in the car heading for the Peloponnese. In reality, I am still at home. How on earth am I going to get some sleep? My eyes just won’t close as my frenzied imagination runs through all the exciting adventures to come!

  I check the weather forecast one last time. It will be more like summertime than autumn. Perfect!

  Our journey starts in Argolida. We are spoilt for choice with so many beautiful places in the prefecture, but our first destination is Ancient Epidaurus, followed by the beautiful city of Nafplio.

  Wanderlust Day 1: Argolida Prefecture

  The ancient theatre of Epidaurus is majestic. There are quite a number of people here enjoying the October sunshine.  I soon begin to experience a familiar sense of awe as I enter the archaeological site, a finely preserved representation of ancient Greek culture at its height! I find myself almost running up the marble steps to reach the top tiers, from where I hear a crystal-clear recital of a Kavafis poem by an Italian woman down on the stage. The symmetry of the theater and its excellent acoustics are as amazing as ever. How far ahead of their times our ancestors were!

  As even more people arrive and the theatre starts filling up, it is time for me to go. I drop by the museum and Asclepius Sanctuary and after some essential photography, get back into the car and drive to Nafplio, the first capital city of Modern Greece.

  I leave my stuff in the hotel and quickly lose myself in its alleyways. I wander here and there, pointing my lens at clusters of bougainvillea and the odd colourful bicycle leaning nonchalantly against a wall. I emerge from the labyrinth and head towards the harbor to check out Bourtzi, the small island fortress in the bay with a thousand stories engrained in its stone work. From here, I turn my attention to Palamidi, the castle above the city where war hero Kolokotronis was imprisoned, commanding fabulous views of the surroundings. When night falls, it is time for dinner in a traditional tavern, not forgetting a well-deserved dessert and a drink in one of the town clubs. After all, Nafplio has it all, history, art, nature, taste and nightlife.

    The following day finds us back on the road and a change of prefecture; from romantic Nafplio we go to… even more romantic Monemvasia and then to the rugged heartland of the region, the famous Mani.

  Wanderlust Day 2 and 3: Laconia Prefecture

  After a three-hour drive we have just begun to make out the distinctive Monemvasia rock in the distance. On arrival there, we take the road connecting the beach to the fortress and then, abandoning our car to the 21st century, prepare for the fairy tale to begin. Entering the citadel, we are greeted by the sight of a cobbled street straight out of the Byzantine era, leading to the central square with the old canon and the church of “Elkomenos Christos”. On either side, little shops and houses bedecked with bougainvillea add life to the place. Every corner presents a photo opportunity, every alley a reason to never leave.

  Watch the LIVE video from Monemvasia

  I wander around the top castle to see the view of the tiled roofs and just before dusk, I go down to Kato Poli where little children play football in the new square. I have a coffee with a view of the sea and a hastily sinking sun and then I surrender myself to the delicious tastes on offer. I have been told to try the famed aubergine and who am I to ignore this recommendation?

  In the morning I wake up for a last stroll on the paved street by the sea front wall. This place is magical! However, it is time to go. Mani awaits!

  The first tower houses can be seen from afar and this is a sign we have reached Mani. The landscape is dry and rugged but it is this wild, stark beauty that makes it famous. Our first stop is the cave of Diros, one of the most beautiful in the world. The experience in the depths of the Laconian earth is enchanting and I look forward to continuing the mood on the surface, namely in Areopoli with its towers and stone alleys.

  Before sunset, I head to the harbor of Areopoli, beautiful Limeni with its combination of tower houses and taverns at the water’s edge. The sun gently caresses my face, hair and soul and I sink into a wicker chair, with a cup of coffee and a smile on my lips. Friday evening continues back in Areopoli with a cocktail and a chat with the locals, taking advantage of the fine weather and welcoming the weekend in its numerous bars.

    I wish I could stay a little longer but the road trip beckons us ever onwards; this time towards Messina.

  Wanderlust Day 4: Messinia Prefecture – Kardamili, Kalamata

  Our first stop is Kardamili in the area of Messinian Mani. The change of prefecture gets gradually more noticeable and I must admit that, for me, there is a special sense of excitement. You see, I have roots in Messinia both metaphorically – my origins – and literally – the roots of the trees in my olive grove!

  So the first coffee of the day is here, by the little harbor of Kardamili and, as it is still early morning, we see two fishermen cleaning their nets and feeding a goose, a permanent resident of the area. A stroll around the old fortified town is a must. We take pictures while, to my surprise, lots of foreign tourists are sat here and there painting landscapes on aquarelles.

  Time is pressing and after I promise to come back soon, I continue towards Kalamata. Although I know the capital of Messina quite well, the city has a surprise in store for me. A few kilometres outside Kalamata the team of the local horse riding club are at the beach, swimming in the sea with their horses. It is a scene that leaves me absolutely speechless.

  Nickolas, the owner of the Equestrian Club, invites us to a Saturday family lunch. Nick, who is the team videographer, and I suddenly find ourselves eating and raising glasses as if we are part of the family. “This is Messinian hospitality”, I said, winking. In a matter of moments, we go from being complete strangers to fully-fledged members of this wonderful gathering!

  Our stroll continues, coffee in hand, in the alleyways around Aristomenous square, where all the university students, and consequently, all the cafeterias are gathered. We carry on to my favourite spot, 23rd March Square and Kalamata castle where we have dinner and then come back for a drink. After all, nightlife in Kalamata, both in its old town and along the sea front, is one of the best kept secrets in the Peloponnese. Before you go dancing, however, a stop at Navarinou St for a sweet treat with a sea view is a must!

  Read also: Kalamata in the heart of Messinia

    Wanderlust Day 5: Messinia Prefecture – Voidokoilia, Methoni, Pylos

  The following day finds us on the other side of Messinia as we want to see the Navarino Challenge athletes running along Voidokoilia, one of the most impressive beaches in Greece! The event is co-organized with Costa Navarino. As we are there very early, I get the opportunity to see the rising sun daubing the Gialova lagoon in its golden rays before I begin to cheer the runners on.

  Our inner compass points towards Methoni now, but along the curling coastal road that takes us there, the harbor of Pylos suddenly reveals itself. There is no way we are not stopping for a meal and a wander round. The Navarinia Festival and Navarino Sea Battle re-enactment are coming up in the following week so the atmosphere is already charged with excitement and anticipation.  After a walk along the pier and around Trion Navarhon square, we hit the road again towards Methoni castle.

  In a matter of moments, we go from being complete strangers to fully-fledged members of this wonderful gathering!

It is a typical Sunday afternoon and there are few people around, so the castle is basically for our eyes only. I walk along the paved roadway that extends into the sea to reach another Bourtzi, like the one in Nafplio, a fortified island with an octagonal castle. The keen-eyed can also make out the islets of Shiza and Sapienza in the distance.

  I could sit here for hours but the Vlahopoulou Women’s Association is expecting us to make lalaggia and tiganides, traditional Messinian delicacies fried in world famous Kalamata olive oil. In essence, during the evening there is a great feast in the main square of the village where I would still be, eating and drinking with the locals had it not been for the programme I had to follow!

  Wanderlust Day 6: River Neda, Lake Kaiafa

  The following day finds us on the road heading to the River Neda and its waterfalls. A place long included in my bucket list which I hadn’t had the chance to visit until now.

  Along a verdant, undulating trail, we reach the largest waterfall and the view fully rewards our exertions. Only the sound of the water breaks the tranquillity of the landscape. I take off my shoes and hesitantly dip my toes to try out the water. It’s cold but I am here now so I might as well go in. I put on a bathing suit and in I go!

  Time passes and the afternoon finds us leaving Messinia prefecture behind and heading to Lake Kaiafa.

  Ilia Prefecture: In Kaiafa we are welcomed by the wonderful forest right next to a huge beach, which, by the way, is gorgeous as well as empty when we arrive. A strip of land separates us from Lake Kaiafa and the islet of Agia Aikaterini and for a few moments I feel like I am not in Greece. So used to the blue of the sea, my eyes take some time to adjust to the piercing green of the lake.

Wanderlust Day 7 and 8: Ancient Olympia and village hopping in Mountainous Arcadia

  The morning finds us in Ancient Olympia, the most important landmark of the Peloponnese and the birthplace of the Olympic Games. Our tour around the archaeological site includes short pauses at Philipeio, the ruins of the Temple of Hera, Nymphaion and of course, the stadium, where you get goose pimples just contemplating the magnitude of its history.

  However, our time is racing like a sprinter and I have to leave Ilia and head to Arcadia.

    Arcadia Prefecture: And here we are at the heart of the Peloponnese, Arcadia. It is here that we are welcomed by authentic autumnal images. Yellow leaves everywhere, running waters, stone houses left and right. A treat for anyone preferring the mountain to the sea!

  We are ready for village hopping! We start from beautiful Stemnitsa and Roilou tower and we have a coffee in “Gerousia”, a traditional café in the village square. We carry on to Dimitsana with its ultra-modern Water Power Museum which makes a huge impression on me as it is an incredible combination of the traditional and the contemporary. Later we wander around the cobbled stone alleys and sit for a meal in one of the numerous taverns of the area.

  Village hopping continues the next day, this time starting from Karitaina and its beautiful castle, aka “the Greek Toledo”, and have a coffee in the café of the next village, Zatouna, with its many water fountains. We carry on to “the hanging village of the Peloponnese”, Lagadia, also known for its artisans and tapestries and we conclude our tour in Vitina where we sit down to dinner after having done our shopping: local honey, oregano and handmade pasta.

      Wanderlust Day 9: Corinthia Prefecture

  We have reached our penultimate day and time is pressing. We change prefecture again and head to Lake Stymphalia. Take a glimpse just before you keep on reading!

  Corinthia Prefecture: Our first stop is the Environmental Museum which amazes me as much as the Water Power Museum in Dimitsana. Unfortunately the lake is totally dried up. Then again, this does give us the chance to walk in it and take amazing photos of places we would otherwise have no access to.

  Our day concludes in the best possible way. Just outside Nemea we sample fantastic wine varieties in Semeli winery and wander around the endless vineyards.

  Wanderlust Day 10: Achaia Prefecture

  Achaia Prefecture: Although it is not winter yet, a visit to Kalavryta is a must. We can always come back to the ski centre with the first snows. We walk around the paved streets of the town and the smell of grilled meat from the taverns tickles our nostrils. We carry on to Diakopto where the rack and pinion railway awaits to bring back old fashioned romance and adventure to the railway experience! Nature is at its best at this time of year and the colours of the trees are impressive.

    And after 10 wonderful days on the Peloponnese, full of images, colours, flavours, faces, joyous conversations and lots of emotions, it is time to go back to base. So this is the last change of prefecture… Attica. Back to Athens with a mind full of pictures and a camera full of colourful shots of the Peloponnese.

    Have you been to the Peloponnese? What was your favourite experience? Let us know in the comments below by sharing your thoughts.

Find more of Maria’s travel stories here: https://tstories.gr/

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[atc74]

Show Me Your Scars

Written for @iwantthedean​‘s 2 Prompt 1 Shot Challenge. The prompt she choose for me was: 

“Show me your scars.”

“But...why?” she asks quizzically.

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Past Dean x Meredith OC, Past Meredith x Derek OC, TJ OC

Word Count: 3105

WARNINGS: Domestic abuse (not Dean), swearing, blood - Please, if you find this triggering in any way, I will not be offended if you choose to skip it. 

A/N: A good chunk of this is a flashback. 

Feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Much thanks to my little sister, @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms for her all around amazing-ness and much needed help with getting this one started (think of it as literary constipation). Also thank you to @paintrider13-blog for well, just being her. 

Meredith had just settled into the couch, a hot cup of tea in her hand, her dog, Hank, snuggled into her side and flipped on the television. Her son was fast asleep in his bed, thanks to some essential oils. Ooooh, excellent, she thought. The Weather Channel was running a Tornado Alley marathon! She was comfortable, so comfortable, a good show and a warm canine, just looking for some love.

The dog started going ballistic and then there was a loud pounding on her front door. Of course there was, because she was comfy and finally getting some quiet time. Meredith dragged herself off the couch, yelled at the dog, and had to restrain him by the collar before he ate the door to get at whomever decided to interrupt their quiet time.

She flipped the light switch to illuminate the front step and her heart just may have stopped. Bathed in the blue light, he stood there, looking slightly impatient and a little nervous.  She unlocked the door and swung it open, leaving the storm door between them locked as a barrier and released her dog.

The last two years came flooding back to her.

~*~

Things with her husband had not been going well for sometime; the constant fighting, his incessant drinking and they had just grown apart. They had a child together and that made it harder to just walk away.  TJ was just a little boy, only five years old. Meredith’s own parents had split when she was about his age and she wanted more for him.

Derek came home from work and she knew something was off from the minute he stepped foot through the door. He was enraged and Meredith had no idea what it was that had set him off. Luckily, TJ was at a sleepover at a friend’s house so he wasn’t home to witness whatever was bound to rear it’s ugly head.

Meredith greeted Derek as if nothing was wrong. She was accustomed to hiding behind the walls she had built and a master at hiding her true emotions. “Hi Babe! How was your day?” she chirped.

“How was my day?! HOW WAS MY DAY?! Let me tell you about my fucking day. I had a great day!! I stopped at the liquor store on my way home, thought we could have a couple cold ones and celebrate out by the fire. Let your kid toast some marshmallows. But no. Guess who I ran into at the store?” Derek was closing in on her and she only had two options; the front door or the back door, as he blocked the third escape route and her car keys hanging by the door.

“Derek, what are you talking about?” Her voice remained strong but internally, she was shaking.

“I ran into your old flame, Dean, literally. He was nice enough about it, then he asked about you. You slut! You’re still sleeping with him!” Derek grabbed the nearest object, a coffee cup, and chucked it at her. Thank God he always had horrible aim and it missed her by more than a foot.

“Derek, you have lost your mind. I haven’t even seen Dean in months. We haven’t been together since before I even met you. How dare you accuse me of cheating on you!” Meredith was done trying to be calm.

“All this time, I thought I was the only one! I bet TJ isn’t even mine, is he? You have been sleeping with Winchester since we got together! You’re both gonna pay for it now! All of you! I am going to destroy you, you bitch!” Derek advanced on her once more.

Meredith started backing away when she heard a fierce growl come from behind her. Their German Shepherd, Hank, was protecting her and closing in on Derek. Hank took a couple more steps towards Derek and began barking as he advanced. Hank lunged and Meredith turned the corner for the front door as it burst open, wood splinters flying.

Dean Winchester crashed through the door. “Are you okay, Mere?”

“Y-yeah, he didn’t touch me.” Her voice was unsteady. Suddenly she heard Derek screaming and Hank growling.

She moved to investigate, not wanting either to get hurt. At this point she was just done with Derek, this was the last straw. Dean tried to hold her back, but she shook her head.

“Dean, this isn’t your problem. It’s time I stood up to him, for good this time. I am ready.” Meredith placed a quick kiss to his cheek and walked into the kitchen. Hank had Derek cornered and one arm in his mouth, blood was dripping on the floor.

“Derek, I have had enough of this nonsense. You are unhinged. I can’t take it anymore. It isn’t healthy for any of us; you have to leave. Just go, please don’t make me call the police.” Meredith stood up straighter than she had in a long time. Maybe it was having Dean there, knowing he had her back. Maybe enough was enough.

“I am not leaving! You get the fuck out of my house!” Derek was rising from his position in the corner and pushed Hank off of him; the poor dog hitting the edge of the concrete counter with a thud and landing on the floor, whimpering.

“Hank!” Meredith screamed but before she knew it, Derek was on her, his hand around her throat. Unbeknownst to either of them, Dean had already called the police and was now trying to pry Derek’s hands from around Meredith’s neck.

Meredith cried out one more time and Dean clocked Derek in the face as hard as he could, sending them both flying. As Derek tried to regain his footing, Dean went to Meredith to make sure she was breathing. A bone chilling growl filled the room and Derek screamed. Meredith and Dean looked back to see Hank with his mouth locked around Derek’s neck, blood flowing freely from several puncture wounds.

“Police! We’re coming in!”

Dean kept a tight grip on Meredith as he called out to the responding officers. “In here.” His voice was anything but steady.

The officers ran to Derek, one applying pressure to the wound, the other calling for an ambulance, but it was too late; Derek was gone. There was so much blood. Meredith had never seen that much blood before.

Dean picked her up and moved her to the living room, the paramedics, applying an ice pack to the rapidly forming bruises on her neck, but other than that, she checked out okay.  

The police began questioning Meredith and Dean before Derek’s body was even removed from their home. Hank had been kenneled as the officers decided what course to take.

Meredith recalled for the officers the events leading up to her husband’s death, including what he had told her about his run in with Dean in the liquor store. Dean added his own account, noting that Derek had seemed agitated from the word go.

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to quarantine your dog until he has been checked out by a veterinarian” Officer Barnes informed her.

“Officer, that won’t be necessary. I am a vet and I witnessed the attack. Hank was doing exactly what any guard dog would have done; he protected his human.” Dean assured the officers and they left, their questioning complete.

“Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight? Your cousin’s maybe?” Dean asked Meredith with concern.

“Um, no, sh-they’re out of town. I d-don’t have a key.” Meredith exhaled deeply.

“Okay then, it’s settled; you’re coming home with me. Why don’t you go back enough for a couple days, for TJ too, and I am going to make a couple calls.” Dean urged her up the stairs and he walked outside.

By the time, she was ready and walked back downstairs with the bags, Dean’s brother Sam was there to fix the front door. Dean and Sam exchanged a few words in hushed tones, Sam patted Dean’s shoulder as he walked back to start on the door.

Dean picked up the bags she had dropped, placing a hand reassuringly on the small of her back and lead her outside to his car where Hank was already waiting for them. The drive to Dean’s was relatively silent and thankfully short.  Once they reached Dean’s home, he opened her door before grabbing the bags and walking them into the kitchen, Hank following closely behind.

Dean showed her to his guest room, just down the hall from his, dropping her bag inside the door. Meredith had been to Dean’s before, when they were dating and not much had changed in the last ten years.

“Dean?” Meredith’s voice was raspy from the trauma at her deceased husband’s hand.

“Mere, you okay?” concern clouding his handsome features.

“I think I’d like to take a shower, if you don’t mind.” She told him.

“Of course. You can use mine; it’s larger. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get you some towels. When you’re ready, come down and we’ll have a light dinner.” Dean kissed her gently on top of her head before going.

Meredith stripped silently in front of the mirror in Dean’s bathroom as the shower steamed the room. The marks on her neck were getting worse and she knew tomorrow they would be like purple hand prints for everyone to see. She was thankful that she had taken the time to pack a couple of light scarves that would mask the majority of the damage, the rest could be concealed with makeup.

She stood under the steady spray of hot water, the heat and pressure released the tense muscles in her body. Meredith slowly washed and conditioned her hair, but as she soaped her body, the realization set in. What would she tell her son? Would she tell him the truth? That his father had tried to kill her but his dog had saved her life?

Meredith collapsed on the floor of Dean’s shower, her tears mixed with the spray as she let herself grieve; for a husband she barely knew anymore, for her son who doesn’t even know his father his gone, but mostly for the person she had been and wished to be again. Meredith had been wild and carefree until she met Derek. She and Dean had broken up again a few months prior to that. And Derek knocked her off her feet; he was unlike any man she had been with before. Now she knew why. He was a good man with a big heart, but his priorities had been backwards for too long. Before long, she had lost herself to be what Derek wanted.

Meredith’s body wracked with the sobs escaping her. She let herself go for a few minutes, then decided she needed to pull it together before Dean got worried and came in after her. She turned the water cold, letting it spill over her face, hoping it would hide the evidence of her tears. Within a few minutes, she was dressed and her hair was towel dried, her loose auburn waves framing her face.

Dean busied himself in the kitchen, making a quick pasta with lemon butter, garlic, mushrooms, and diced tomato, topped with shredded parmesan. It wasn’t much, but she needed to eat something. He has been so worried about her for the last nine years. Dean had seen through Derek from their first meeting. Derek became possessive of Meredith after that and he hardly saw her until about eighteen months ago.

Meredith had called him out of the blue to have lunch. She had finally started doing something she had wanted to do for a long time, become an author and she was finally ready. Derek never supported that dream, but Dean always had, so she called to share the happy news of her decision with him.

As he finished off dinner, his mind was flooded with memories.

He and Meredith had been together off and on for twelve years. She was the one girl he could never truly let go and it clouded the rest of his relationships, if you could call them that. She was his standard; the girl he compared all others to.

Dean had met Meredith twenty years ago, when they both worked at the same family run grocery, trying to support themselves while going to college. Dean was in Veterinary school and Meredith was going for her bachelors in Communications with a minor in Journalism.  They flirted constantly and eventually their mutual friends pushed them together at a party. They were inseparable after that. Dean with his sandy brown hair, bright green eyes and six foot plus  frame, paired with Meredith’s red waves, piercing blue eyes and petite five foot build, they were a stunning couple.

As strong as their bond was, it just wasn’t enough. Between work and school, their schedules were tight but they made it work. Until after graduation, when Dean’s schedule became more demanding and their time spent with one another began to taper off once he was accepted into the veterinary medicine program. Meredith accepted a job in another state, an entry level copywriter for a small paper, but it was what she wanted, so Dean didn’t try to stop her. If you love something, let it go, right?

She returned a couple years later when she was offered a job back home. Dean and Meredith had remained friends, so she moved back in with Dean to save on rent and utilities. They soon found themselves back in love and it lasted for awhile. Until Dean began studying for his boards and time began to get away from them again and they drifted apart.

Meredith quietly padded down the stairs to see Dean standing over the stove, deep in thought, which is expected for the events they experienced today. She didn’t want to startle him so she announced herself quietly as she entered the kitchen, “hey.”

Dean looked up at her and smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges a bit more than they did when she first met him. “Feel better?”

“Yeah, a little. What did you make?” Her nose sniffing the air.

“Nothing special, just some pasta, lemon, garlic, mushrooms and tomato.” Dean replied casually as he set the bowl on the table.

“Nothing special, huh? Is this the same pasta dish I made you on our first anniversary? The one with just the ingredients in our fridge because we couldn’t afford to go out?” Meredith eyed Dean as he uncorked a bottle of pinot grigio.

“No...maybe...yeah, it is. Fine, I love it, okay? I make it about once a week, but sometimes I add chicken.” Dean laughed a little as he admitted this to her, which made her laugh as well. It was nice to see her smile and laugh again. She deserved so much more.

They ate dinner in comfortable silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. They cleared and washed the dishes, moving to the living room once everything was put away.  Meredith sipped her wine quietly while Dean kept a watchful eye from the other end of the couch.

“Dean, stop staring at me, please,” Meredith turned to face him, “I am okay, really. Please don’t worry about me.”

“Mere, I have worried about you everyday for the last nine years, I am not about to stop now.” Dean confessed. He set his glass down and moved closer to her, reaching for her hand. “I am never not going to worry about you. I have known you for twenty years, hell we were together for the better part of that. You were my girlfriend, but you have been my best friend all along. I care too much about you.”

“Don’t you think I know that? You were the first man I ever loved. I will never love another man the way I love you. I think Derek knew that too and that is why he always hated you. He never understood the connection I had with you.” Meredith whispered.

“Show me your scars, Mere.” Dean said as he stroked the inside of her wrist with his thumb.

“But...why? She asked quizzically.

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Dean, don’t beat yourself up over something you had no control over. I made the choice. I made the mistake, but you know what? I wouldn’t change it if I had to do it all over again. He gave me the most important thing in the world. I have a beautiful, smart, amazing child. And I am stronger than I was before I met him. It’s hard to believe, but he made me a better person, Dean.” Meredith let it all out as she let Dean hold her for the first time in years.

“You have always been the strong one, Sweetheart. I always needed you more than you needed me. But not anymore, I am going to be here for whatever you need, for as long as you need it; you and JT.”

Meredith pulled away from him slightly, “I know and I can’t thank you enough Dean. But you know what’s odd? Do you know what I feel? Relief; I feel relieved that it’s over. It’s not the way I wanted it to end and a part of me did love him, but I am finally relieved that there will be no more fighting, no more hiding who I really am and who I want to be. I am finally free to be me.” Meredith exhaled deeply, feeling better with the weight lifted.

~*~

“This had better be good Winchester.” She cautioned him, a little harsher than she intended to. “You’re late.”

“I am so sorry, Sweetheart, but you specifically requested pistachio ice cream. Do you know how many stores I hit trying to find that?” Dean opened the screen door, dropping to his knees to grovel at her feet, as his large hands found their way to her swollen middle. “Please don’t be mad at Daddy, Princess; he had to get what his girls wanted.” He pleaded with your unborn daughter.

“Get up, you’re making a fool out of yourself; the neighbors will see you.” Meredith laughed as she pulled her husband to his feet.

“I will make a fool of myself in front of the whole world, any day. I wasted too much and I want everyone to know I am a fool for you.” Dean kissed her solidly for anyone to see.  

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[jonnieandkaykay]

Kayla goes to Paris, France

Kayla Eats Snails

Kayla here with another update from Europe! I'm in my "hotel" relaxing (you get what you pay for) and listening to the rain fall over Paris at the moment. Our residence for this leg is called Hotel de Lorraine, a one star hotel (I didn't even know those existed!) with good ratings via Booking.YEAH! Comes with all the essentials, but Antonia described it well - it's the type of hotel where you want to wear pants to bed. Despite the fact that I sunk almost all the way to the floor when I sat on aforementioned bed, I did sleep well here. The bathroom was adequate, water was hot, place was pretty clean. I somehow managed to survive having to commute all the way to the stairwell for a wifi signal. Otherwise, the last 2 days have been a whirlwind and it's difficult to process all that we have done!

Yesterday we flew from Berlin Schoenefeld to Paris Orly with EasyJet. Our flight was delayed about an hour due to a labor strike in France but we made it! I would use EasyJet again... basic Airbus great for a short flight. They charge for any refreshments but permit one bag that can be stowed under or stowed overhead, so it's nice to have that option. We got to see a double rainbow over Schoenefeld flying out after a light rain, so that was a good sign for our trip!

After landing in Paris about an hour late, we took the bus and then metro to our hotel. The metro system here is very intuitive, but don't be fooled. For non French speakers, you will find no explanation of the tickets in English. We bought a bundle of one ways, and after being fined 50 EU for "invalid" tickets we discovered these are only good an hour after the initial validation, so word to the wise! On arrival, we were starving and wanted a late night hang out to enjoy some wine and cheese, so we checked out Le Tambour at the recommendation of one of Antonia's aquaintences via their blog. We were feeling adventurous and decided to try escargot for the first time, and actually it ended up being the favorite part of our three course meal (other than the two bottles of wine of course). So there we sat, eating, drinking, and enjoying our quaint view of the street from our outdoor table until 0300, when the surrounding bars and restaurants close and Le Tambour suddenly becomes the place to be. Service was excellent, our waiter went above and beyond, and prices were very reasonable. The surprise party scene at the end was an added bonus.

Day 2 of Paris was dreary but we accomplished all the high priority sights we wanted to see. The start to the day was slow as we made our way to the Louvre to find a gigantic line of people trailing out the door and into the rain. We decided to reconvene at a coffee shop and possibly buy "skip the line tickets" online. As soon as we were served a large French press of coffee for us to share, I knew we had come to the right place! Thereafter we bought tickets to the Louvre next door at a tourist shop and forewent the wait to get in. It's true you could spend all day at the Louvre, so be sure to prioritize the exhibits you want to see via the map ahead of time. While in the Louvre, Paris seemed to get progressively more rainy and dreary, but that did not deter us from going up in the Eiffel tower. It is only a couple of blocks from the metro station, and you're able to go to the summit via elevator. We couldn't see much from the summit, but the 2nd floor deck views of Paris were beautiful despite the weather.

Thereafter we enjoyed an evening of wine and fondue and views of the river and of Notre Dame before taking shelter from damp outdoors for the rest of the night. Don't be fooled - fondue apparently doesn't mean cheese! It means you get a pot of oil to cook your own pieces of meat in. The cheese is separate! On our final day in Paris, we made the most of every moment. We enjoyed crepes and coffee from Cluny Cafe. The coffee with whipped cream was amazing, although I did have to dig a tunnel through the whipped cream to get to the coffee (no, I wasn't too torn apart by this). I also ordered the Normande crepes, which are crepes with apples, walnuts, and vanilla ice cream topped by calva, which the waitress literally lit on fire at our table and poured onto our crepes - it was fantastic! We ended out morning by heading out to Notre Dame and Arc de Triomphe before jetting over to the airport for the next leg of our trip in Barcelona. Both sights were well worth squeezing in before our flight!

Off to Barcelona!

-KayKay

[dominguezjordan94]

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