#it's sunday it's time for CHURCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Non-exhaustive list of things maintaining a home required prior to modern conveniences:
Cooking three meals a day, from scratch or previously prepared preserves - baking, broiling, boiling, stewing, frying, toasting, and roasting.
Preserving food - canning, salting, drying, pickling, etc.
Laundry - likely anywhere between once and thrice a week, depending on income, living situation, and needs.
Child rearing - feeding, changing, teaching, reprimanding, cleaning, and connecting with.
Housekeeping - sweeping, polishing, airing out bedding (including mattresses), etc.
Mending and making - sewing new clothing for growing children, hemming or letting out clothing, mending tears, embroidering embellishments on clothing and good company napkins and tablecloths (which were not optional as they were a sign of capability), knitting/crocheting warm clothes for winter, etc.
Tending to any animals the family possessed, usually for practical purposes - chickens, cows, horses, sheep, etc.
Garden work - watering, weeding, harvesting, planting, tilling, and defending from pests and diseases.
Studying - it was all but required you (and your children) be well read on your religious book of choice in many communities.
Soap making, if you can't buy it easily/affordably. This means working with lye, which is caustic and can melt your flesh off.
Shopping - if you're lucky there's a general store a good 40+ minutes carriage ride from home, and that's where you'll get luxury items like coffee, sugar, salt, lamp oil, etc.
Now do all of that anywhere between daily and bi-weekly, AND work a part time job doing similar work for someone who can afford to pay you to do it instead of doing it themselves. So double at least one of the above chores (could be even more than that) or find time to do all of the above in between shifts in the cotton mill (praying your hand doesn't get cut off and your lungs don't give out), local factory (radium girls, anyone?), or other mass production site with absolutely zero safety regulations.
And when I say children, I mean you're likely to have at least two, anywhere up to double digits.
Nobody sat around just staring out the window for hours on end unless they were ridiculously wealthy. There wasn't time. If you were lucky, you might get a half hour or so in the evening to read something for pleasure (provided you could read and your husband allowed it) or work on a small pleasure project (assuming you could afford the materials to make it), or an occasional visit with a good friend for an hour in the afternoon. Otherwise? Well that's why people went to church - it was the only chance you had to catch up with people you otherwise rarely saw. That's also why Sunday used to be considered a rest day that was "evil" to break - it was literally the only day that people had some time to relax a little (there was still mending to do) before the next week of grueling work began.
Do women drunk on the trad wife fantasy know that women have been working in factories since the 1800s?
Like, why do you always assume you’re going to be middle to upper class living in the suburbs being a full time homemaker?
You’re more likely to be living in a multigenerational household while also doing some work on the side while raising your kids. Your money will go straight to your husband and he gets to decide what happens to it.
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Look, I just think that Percy having mortal Christian or Jewish or Muslim or otherwise monotheistic friends is just a well of untapped potential, okay? Like, obviously Percy just draws in the most eclectic group of friends, right? And idk at lunch or smth they're talking about some assignment they got in history class and it comes up that they all have different beliefs/religions and Percy, being Percy, decides to try and bond with them about it by asking if they have a favorite myth/bible/torah/quran/etc story and at first half of them are like uh dude are you making fun of me? and they're just super confused and ofc Percy is all oh shit no sorry dude I just, y'know, I'm pagan and idk I have a favorite greek myth and stuff and I thought maybe you guys had a favorite story from your faith, idk is that not how it works? was it rude of me to ask? oh gods, I'm so sorry guys
And then they're all like oh okay no that makes sense actually, it's just not smth people ask usually, not cause it's taboo or anything, it's just . . . not smth many people think of, I guess.
And then they go around sharing stories from their respective faiths and percy is ofc respectful and listens intently and sometimes he may ask questions and stuff but he never dismisses them or makes fun of them or their beliefs [bc like, if the greeks, romans, egyptians, and norse are out there, who's to say that there aren't more? who's to say that they're not all out there, yknow?], even if he is a little weird about them sometimes but that's all just because he doesn't understand lmao
I just, idk, I think Sally probably raised Percy mostly atheist yknow? and its not like he's entirely unaware of Christianity and Judaism and Islam and all that, he just doesn't have any clue how those religions are practiced/worshipped and stuff. His only real exposure to that kind of thing is what he's seen on tv and then his own experiences with how they 'worship' and interact with the gods at camp.
So he just thinks of deities as being mostly Just Some Guy who happens to have powers and a superiority complex. He thinks of 'higher powers' as, like, idk if personable is the right word, but I mean, he thinks of gods as just people. He doesn't understand the whole reverent worship and devotion and like, detachment from God attitude that like, Christianity has and stuff like that.
So Percy will just say the wildest shit sometimes, like, 'oh yeah, Zeus is a horny bastard and an absolute asshole, but he's the king of the gods so if we don't give him proper respect or tribute or whatever he gets pissy. What about your God? Does He get grumpy if you don't like, go to church on Sunday or smth?' or 'do you think you could get me in contact with Jesus? because Zeus put Dionysus in sobriety time out and he's all cranky about it bc he can't conjure wine ig but like, if your guy did it for him it might get past thunderbutt's restrictions and then grapehead might be less cranky?'
Idk but like I said, I just think this is an untapped well of hilarious potential!
#percy jackson#pjo#eliot talks#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#hoo#percy jackson headcanon#percy jackson hc#idk i just think itd be so funny for percy to treat major monotheistic religions like he treats the greek and roman shit yknow?
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The new Mrs. Winchester (19)
Word count: 4.5K
Pairing: Sam X Reader AU
Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence; reader discretion is strongly advised.
Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?
A/N: A huge shoutout to all my wonderful readers! Your support and love keeps me going! <3
Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23
“You can’t kick 'em in the nuts and make a run for it?” The girl in the next cell asked.
“Not if you want to avoid getting beaten into a pulp,” you told her through a mouthful of bread and tomato. “There’s always a guard outside the door.”
“Kick 'em in the nuts, too.”
You snorted so hard, bits of tomato landed on the floor.
“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “There are fancy rooms upstairs with wardrobes full of fancy clothes that you have to wear and then they take you to other fancy places for men–”
“Sometimes it’s just the fancy rooms overhead. Men come here, too.”
“But they take you out, don’t they?” She argued. “Just go to a reception and tell the hostess, a waitress, anyone. I know you managed to run away once… so why not try again? If they let you out, it can’t be that hard!”
You swallowed the bite in your mouth and sighed. What did it matter if you told her the truth? Neither of you would make it out anyway.
“They’ve kidnapped my half-brother and half-sister. Little kids, barely six… have them at gunpoint somewhere. I make one wrong move and they are dead.”
“Shit.”
You could picture her dumbstruck expression. After spending a week next to her, seeing her face while going in and out, you were starting to get a hang of her. You still didn’t know why you did it, take her turn every night. Eventually, they would drag her out, but for a week, the boss wasn’t in the building and no one seemed to push the inevitable and drag that girl’s stubborn ass out.
And boy was she stubborn. She bit and clawed like a wild cat at the guards who tried to drag her. She got plenty beat up in the process, but everyone seemed to wait for the boss to get her in line when he came.
“Don’t you worry,” she said. “My fiance is going to get us out.”
“Fiance?”
“Yeah. I bet he’s worried out of his mind right now. But there’s police. They’ll find us.”
“The police are in on this,” you said. “They get serviced for their quiet.”
She spat, then screamed in frustration.
Footsteps echoed off the walls, and blood froze in your veins. You recognised the hard tap and unforgiving rhythm of his steps. The boss.
“Go to your bed and pretend to sleep,” you hissed, discarding the sandwich in your hand and doing the same.
“W-what?”
“Just do it.”
Covering yourself entirely with the blanket, you rolled into a ball, as if that would make you invisible, teleport you out of the horror story you were about witness. Since staring at the glass wall in his cabin for the first time, you had prayed for yourself. The pastor in the church your aunt dragged you to every Sunday preached that one should only pray for the world and not for oneself… because praying for oneself was selfish. If you prayed only for the world, that made you a good person, and God helped good people without having to ask for it.
You had never been particularly religious, but that one thing had stuck around. Subconsciously, all your life, you had never asked for yourself, not from God, the universe or even as a favour from people. If you wanted something, you had worked hard to earn it, and achieve it by sheer will and not divine intervention.
But that first night with the boss had made you pray for yourself over and over.
And you prayed now, in whispers that only remained in your breath, never making a sound.
God, let him forget that I exist… Not tonight. Please please please.
The footsteps came to a halt, and the door next to yours opened.
You closed your eyes tighter. Oh, that poor girl. He had come for her at last.
“I hear you’ve been difficult.”
A spit.
“Michael,” he said in his cold, raspy voice. “Hand me my cane, now.”
“Yes, Boss,” said Michael, gleefully.
A slash in the air and a piercing scream sliced the air.
You shut your ears tightly as the scuffling began… but then it ended as suddenly as it had started when a loud, sickening crunch which sounded so close to the shared wall that you were certain it had happened against it.
A minute passed.
“Oh, what a terrible waste,” the boss sighed at last, almost delicately. “Remove it.”
The taps receded and then soon they carried her body by your cell, blood trailing behind her.
You sat up bolt in your bed, unable to keep the bile down as you emptied your stomach on the carpet next to the bed. Sam’s side of the carpet.
You plopped back on the bed, breathing heavily.
“Just a dream,” you told yourself. “Just a dream.” Then, the reality came crashing down on you and you wanted to throw up all over again.
Abby’s quiet knock from the main door wrenched you out of bed and through the seating area. She didn’t have to see the vomit. Her face was pinched when you opened the door for her. She entered trepidly and placed the breakfast tray on the table.
“Who’s in the house?” You asked
“Just us,” she said. “Mr Dean Winchester left last night itself.”
“And S-Sam? He’s out for his run?”
“Mr Winchester left for work.”
“It’s only 7.”
She gave you an apprehensive look, as if she wanted to say something but was scared of how you would perceive it.
“What is it, Abby?”
“Miss, he’s in a right state, that man. Before you came, he used to be so dry and detached… but this past month, since you first locked yourself in your room, he’s gone from pillar to post for you. Sleep, food, everything be damned. The only thing he has done is worry.” Her hand fluttered nervously to her side. “He stumbled down the steps this morning from exhaustion and still went for his run anyway. I think he needs to see a doctor.”
Abby didn’t know what had conspired last night.
“I don’t know the deal with his brother being back now,” she said, wrangling the corner of her apron. “But everyone knows they don’t get along. It can’t be good for him.”
Sam had looked exhausted last evening. The dark circles under his eyes, the once-fitted shirt that hung loose on his shoulders, and the ever-present frown on his forehead had become more and more etched now.
“Abby, tell me when Sam is back, will you?”
You sent her away and cleaned up your mess in the bedroom. A hot shower further cleared your head. Taking stock of your time in the Winchester Mansion made you recount the number of times you had run out on Sam, locked yourself in the room, the number of secrets you had kept. So, he’d had his own secrets. You knew that.
Then there was the fact that Sam had never explicitly said he hated his brother. In fact, he’d never spoken of him without pain mingled with love. His exact words- “We had a fight and I couldn’t see his face after that.” Couldn’t…. Not ‘Didn’t want.’ Nowhere had his words implied that Sam’s consent was considered.
The day appeared stormy, with an overcast sky. Maybe the light of the lantern would carry, perhaps it wouldn’t. You set it on the sill anyway.
Dean found you at the pier an hour later, when you had nearly given up hope. He stood at his usual spot but did not sit beside you and you noticed he was dressed differently; no jacket today, just a black T-shirt and jeans.
Slowly, you tilted your face upwards to meet his sharp green eyes. How often had you wondered what Dean Winchester would be like? Bitter? Angry? But Han wasn’t any of those things.
“Get up!” He ordered, without an ounce of remorse. You got to your feet.
“This way,” he pointed and began to walk towards the jungle without a preamble.
A frisson of annoyance ran through you. Where was his abashedness?
“Sam didn’t know,” he said briskly. “That you knew me. That we knew each other. That poor bastard had no damn clue.”
“You want me to believe you’ve been hiding out in these woods without Sam knowing?”
“Yes.” He came to an abrupt stop and you realised Dean was dead serious. “That kid’s as straight-jacketed as they come. Keeping up the charade nearly did a number on his head, and then you came into the picture. Sam’s nearly lost his goddamned mind over you.”
“He told you that?”
Dean sighed in exasperation. “Haven’t you been listening to a single word? I haven’t seen Sam in months, not since the fight. But he’s my only family left. I had to keep an eye on the kid.”
The trees were too damn thick for any sunlight to trickle down. Dean started walking again and you followed.
“What was the fight about, then?” You pressed, refusing to believe.
“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Two years before I came into the picture? Yeah, right.”
Dean tilted his head, weighing his words. “About the idea of you, I guess.”
“Wow, that clears it all up, doesn’t it?” You laughed sarcastically.
He stayed quiet for so long that you actually paid attention to your surroundings, finding the trail vaguely familiar in the thick trees.
“We were to be married in eight weeks,” he said, voice deep and achingly sad. “She’d come to drop off pie for me. Sam says he insisted on dropping her back, but I knew my Jo. She was stubborn that one. If she wanted to drive herself, nothing Sam said would’ve changed her mind. Nothing. Ellen called three hours later asking for her. We searched all night long, all through the woods, all the way two towns over. Nothing. Sniffer dogs couldn’t catch a trail. The police found her car two days later in New Mexico… and her body two weeks later face down in the lake.”
You wanted to reach out, say something… anything, but words failed.
“She hadn’t drowned, Y/N. She’d already been dead when they threw her in there. Post-mortem said haemorrhage… blunt force trauma to the back of her head, ligature marks, bruises…” He closed his eyes unable to continue.
You knew bits and parts of what followed– Dean’s self-destructive tendency and Sam’s unwavering support. The latter won.
“Sam still thinks he’s to blame. That he should have somehow foreseen it. I know Ellen doesn’t disagree with him or shy away from throwing it in his face.” A mirthless scoff.
“I think the bigger part of her anger is because of what Sam did to you… and me.” You said. “Or rather, what she thinks he did to you and me.”
Dean sighed. “I owe Sam a lot more than my life, a sorry and a thank you. This whole plan hinges on his resilience.”
“What plan?”
He ran a hand through his hair, but his pace slowed down. “The detective working this case, Jody Mills… she’s suspected a human trafficking ring here for years. Every few years someone goes missing or a body mysteriously appears. But this thing has its claws in so deep that we can’t trust the entire PD.”
A shiver ran down your spine.
He glanced at you briefly, and you saw the ever-present kindness there. “You’re smart. I’m sure you’ve figured out a bunch of this yourself.”
Nodding to yourself, you thought out loud. “Sam wasn’t keeping me around for sex, didn’t want to hang me as bait for kidnapping, so obviously he wants information about where I was but…” You vividly remembered the night when he’d held your bloody hand and then all but shushed your barrage when you had tried to spill it all in a haze. “He stopped me from telling him… He didn’t want to hear any of it.”
Dean chuckled. A sudden light sound in the pressing quiet. “And I just called you smart.”
“What?”
“For all your God-forsaken angst over loving Sam… Have you not considered him liking you back?” Dean narrowed his eyes as if he was judging your intelligence. “Obviously it’s hard for him to listen to what you’ve been through. Hell, I’ve choked back on what little you’ve told me. Why are you being so thick?”
Tears sprang in your eyes.
He placed a gentle hand against your cheek.
“Give yourself some credit, Y/N. As stupid as you’re being right now, how can you question your own judgement of Sam so easily? You took your time forming your opinion, didn’t you? So consider all proof objectively. He was on board with the plan from day one knowing it would wreck his reputation if I disappeared after transferring my inheritance to him, knowing he’d have to make himself a villain… all for Jo. The kid didn’t bat an eye before agreeing. What led to the fight was the very last step of the plan. After infiltrating the system, he’d have to be one of them and well…”
“Buy a girl,” you finished.
“Yes,” said Dean. The word hung heavy in the air. “Sam refused to do it at first, but it was the only way. It’s killed him since day one, Y/N. And yesterday when you said he’s no better than any of those men who hurt you…”
The tears now freely flowed down your cheek and right into Dean’s palm. He slowly directed your face into his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around you.
“Oh, what have I done?” You whispered into his jacket.
Sam had banged hard on your door last night and you never gave him a chance to explain. Not a single word. If you truly loved him, how come the trust was broken this easily? And when you refused to speak, he’d respected your consent then, too.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” you said. “I should’ve trusted him, trusted you. After all, you never coaxed anything from me. I–”
A thousand memories ran through your mind: Sam’s fingers holding up your corset, touching his hand for the first time in the entrance hall before, his laugh after the false escape from dinner. Sam handing you a portfolio, Sam showing you around the old guesthouse, his fingers slipping on your wet shirt in the barn, laughing with him on the floor of your bedroom, his voice as he read out poetry… and his lips when they met yours.
“Sam took to playing chess in high school,” said Dean as you moved back. “I don’t think he ever got too good at it, but he used to come back rambling about all these moves, the King's Gambit, the Scandanavian, the Sicilian. He didn’t have anyone to play against, so I learned the basics to humour him and we played every night before bed.”
He’d started walking again and you kept pace this time.
“So there we are one night, recreating some classic game from half a century ago and I played a different piece and well, what do you know, my king ended up in a position from where he couldn’t move. Thought I’d lost because that was the only square my King was safe in. But then Sam said that’s not what it was. I couldn’t be forced to move my King to a checked square, but it wasn’t currently checked. A stalemate is what it was. That’s where we are at, Y/N.”
“A stalemate?”
“Yes. We know pieces of information, but not the ones that actually matter. It’s our move next, but every square is checked, Y/N. We need to know.”
The dim lights of the dungeon came back to you and oddly the crack of the skull. “The operation is not local, definitely crosses state lines. The building where they kept me is somewhere along New Mexico's border. It’s a huge glass building, seven stories high. I don’t know exactly where but from the se…” you gulped. “From the seventh floor, I could see a tall red tower with blinking lights. They blinked all the time… like passing seconds… but slower than s- seconds. The boss sits on the seventh floor.”
“The boss?”
“I-I don’t know his name. No one does. They only call him ‘the boss.”
“This is good, Y/N,” Dean said eagerly. “What does he look like? How does he find these girls? How does he keep them?”
“He… He looks like any other white man, in his 50’s, maybe early 60’s but his eyes, he has the coldest gray eyes and his laugh...” You stopped, collecting your thoughts. “You already know how he gets the girls. Men as scouts, pretending to be friends or lovers, finding vulnerable girls with little in the way of family. Me… Rosalie. About keeping them, there are two ways. One is standard, get them hooked to heroin. Once you have that, they’ll do anything to get the next fix. But those girls don’t make much money, yeah? They aren’t polished. I was the second kind, for the richer clientele that don’t like the smell of drugs and want the girls alive and kicking. For them, guess, it’s easier to blackmail by holding a loved one hostage. Rosalie only had a mother and I only had Jamie and Danny.”
You told him about how your siblings were held hostage somewhere, and how you stayed in line just to protect them.
“There’s very little we wouldn’t do to protect them, wouldn’t we?”
Dean nodded, then came to a halt and you noticed with some surprise that you were standing in front of the wishing well.
His fingers grazed the parapet's tally marks, and you voiced a long-lost curiosity. “Why do you have one extra?”
“That dumbass brought you here, didn’t he?” Dean snorted. “So much for our secret place.” But he didn’t seem to hold any grudge over it. “Dad brought me here right before Sam was born. Told me this was a magic well, so I needed to make a wish about what I wanted… a sister or a brother.”
“What did you ask for?”
“You see the extra mark there, don’t you?” He winked. “After the fire, I used to run out a lot, trying to find the well again. Wish my dead parents back, you know? Finally found it when I was twelve and Sam was eight. ”
“Seems like you’ve kept pace since with the tallys.”
Dean winked as if there was a secret to it, but didn’t share it with you.
“Come on, make a wish then,” he said.
“One is already due. I don’t want to burden the well.” You sighed. “Look, Dean. I’ll help you with whatever you want. I can draw plans of the building, and the street layout I could see from the seventh floor. Tell you the number of guards, the shifts, even the names of some of the clients, but I need you to promise me that nothing will happen to my brother and sister.”
“I promise.”
The walk back should have seemed like an interrogation, except Dean held your hand as you described more of the place, the people, the process… the boss.
“I told you already, I don’t know his name,” you burst out when he questioned a third time.
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Did he… Did he hurt you? This boss?”
You laughed. One short, shaky laugh. “He had a wall full of these instruments… silver, gleaming and so cold.” Then there was the glass wall.
“Oh, that son of a bitch.”
“I wonder why you think Jo was involved in this,” you said, more to change the subject that anything else. “I mean she didn’t exactly fit the pattern.” Full family, doting boyfriend, well-to-do. Blitz kidnapping didn’t seem likely. The boss had to have had something on her.
“No, she didn’t fit the pattern and for a long time, we didn’t suspect her to have been in this.”
“How come?”
Dean’s voice reduced to barely above a whisper. “No obvious signs of… sexual assault in the postmortem report.” And despite the tragedy of it, Dean almost sounded relieved. He pulled out an old wallet from his back pocket and gazed at a picture inside lovingly. “I don’t know, Y/N, it makes me feel like an asshole but knowing that maybe she might have escaped the worst of it… God, I think it kept me from throwing myself off a damn cliff.”
“Oh, Dean!” You closed the distance in-between to hug him. “I bet she–” you gasped. The wallet hung loosely in his grasp and you glimpsed the picture behind the plastic.
You grabbed the wallet and held it up. “That… That’s Jo? Your Jo?”
He took you by your shoulders. “You knew her?”
“Oh my God!” All the hurt and anger and fear came crashing down on you as you collapsed to the green earth of the side lawn. Over the years she had gone from being the girl in the next cell, to the girl with brown eyes, to the girl in your nightmares and eventually… the only thing you were proud of.
“She’s… she used to be the girl in the next cell. I knew her.”
“Who did this to her?” Dean asked, voice so sharp, it didn’t even sound his.
“The Boss did,” you whispered. “I think it might have been an accident. I only heard the scuffle and then the crack of her skull. It was quick. She didn’t suffer much.”
There was a sharp intake of breath over you and you didn’t dare look up.
“Dean, you should know, the girls there… eventually choose to stay there. I know I did. Once you stop with the kicking and screaming, it gets a little easier. The bad days are lesser and most clients don’t treat you like complete trash. There’s food on your plate at night and poor orphan girls have a bed to sleep in when they comply… they…. we stop fighting. Because there is no relief to fight for, no home to go to and no one who could protect us. But your Jo, she never stopped. I bet she took a few teeth out of that one guard, too.”
“Did they… did anyone ever…?” He could not spit the entire sentence out and you saw the courage it took to finally confront that question.
You looked straight in his tear-stained tortured eyes. “No one hurt her that way. I… I took her turns for the week she was there. I still don’t know why I did it. I’m not a charitable person, and it was hell that week, but something about her faith in her fiance reminded me of, well, me… before I found out how I got there. I wanted to protect her faith just a little longer. So, no Dean, no one touched her that way. And you should also know, she died like she lived, fighting and believing in your love for her.”
Dean hugged you and broke down. “Thank you… Thank you for doing that for my Jo,” he blubbered. “You’re… You’re like an angel. Sam said that you know… yesterday he said that he thought you were some kind of an angel when he first saw you dressed in white. Wasn’t wrong.”
And you broke down with Dean. The night had descended upon you, as you both held each other in the darkness and just cried.
Much later, locked in the dining room, you drew the floor plans of the building from your memory, a map of the road and the way to the bus stop that you could remember, the names of the guards, physical descriptions, names of the girls, anything and everything you could think of. The maids all gave you curious looks. Getting along with a brother-in-law would be normal for most families, but an estranged brother-in-law who you had never supposedly met? Knowing the history they knew, that had to look shady.
As it turned out, Dean had been alternating between living in the Guest house in Sam’s room and a cabin further north that not many people knew of in the estate. He knew ways to sneak in and out better than almost anyone. Hired security was never too big a problem for him. He was to set out first thing tomorrow morning to see how he could use your intel.
“You know my roommate Carmen,” you said at the door when he was about to leave. “She might have been the only one to care for me back then. I fought with her the night before. If you can do one thing for me, find her and tell her she was right and I am so very sorry.”
“Of course.” Dean stepped up and kissed your forehead. “And Y/N, I’m going to get that bastard. Not just for what he did to Jo, but also for what he did to you. You said you didn’t fight after a while because you didn’t have a home, a family. Now you do. Remember that.”
You watched Dean head out. He would be gone before you woke up tomorrow, but you felt lighter than you had in years, like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. Upstairs, you found Abby in her room.
She stood up the moment she saw you. “Miss, is everything alright?”
“Yes, Abby. I was wondering if you knew when Sam would be back?”
“He was home earlier this evening but didn’t stay long. I believe he left for Colorado.”
Hurt. “Did he say anything about when he would return?”
“No, Miss.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“No, Miss.”
“Did he say anything at all?”
The pitying shake of her head was enough for you to turn around and return to your room. What if you had hurt Sam beyond fixing this time? Abby had been correct, he looked fragile, not just physically, but something about the fragmented look in his eyes, as if one blow could shatter him. What if your hurtful words and vitriolic accusation finally pushed him to the edge? How much bullshit could one man take after all?
You had stepped into this house thinking you would be used, and it was the most horrid feeling in the world. What if Sam thought the same now? That you had used him… used his home, his wealth, and his empathy. Hell, you had used his body, too!
No, you didn’t pray for yourself much. But in that moment you did- God, please give me one chance to apologise. Please.
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A/N 2: So turns out I was tagging all wrong :/ Ana is feeling sad about that. Hopefully, it will work this time.
Please do let me know what you think of this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!
If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.
Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.
Tag list:
@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan
@stoneyggirl @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough
@impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis
@mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @mlovesstories
@sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted
@little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore
@sammedeansandwhich @trexrambling @strawberryycoww @joseyrw @lacilou
@giggles1029 @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo @sammysgirl
@goodbyemilkyway @winnifredburkleismyhero @impalaspixie @edwardsfangirl1712 @fandomoniumflurry
@pbandjelly @sammysgirl1997 @aloneatpeace @spnexploration @sojuxxi
@vickyfarley @esoltis280 @mayafatimakhan
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#reader x sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#spn#sam x reader#sam winchester x Y/N#sam winchester reader insert#Ana writes spn#anawrites#Ana writes TNMW#tnmw19#q
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LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE BEEP for boyfriend dreamies
♡a voicemail for mark˚ ⋆。
“i keep listening to songs i haven’t heard in forever, not since i was a kid or teenager, and they transport me back to that time. suddenly, i’m wearing pink converse and jean shorts and the t-shirt from my summer play. it’s saturday, and i’m sitting on the stairs waiting for my friend to arrive, sunlight all over the walls. we wanted to have a sleepover, but there’s church in the morning, so she’ll stay as late as she can, probably until we’re dozing off on the couch watching one of the dvds she brought. naturally, i have to think about you because music wraps around your life in a way it never will for me. we’ve probably talked about this. maybe the conversation took a different shape before, but what’s a song that takes you back? what’s a time you miss and revisit through music? do you have time to think about those things? your life is go go go, and i’ve made silly wishes on eyelashes about peering into your head. i’m a reminiscer, and i know not everyone is, but you’re a creative. you’re a writer—music wraps around your life in a special way, so the idea of nostalgia visiting rarely seems unrealistic? but i guess i can’t know until you tell me. i see it often. i see it when i’m out without my glasses. the distant view is blurry, and suddenly, there i am, riding a bike, pink converse on. what shows up in your blurry nostalgia view?”
♡a voicemail for renjun˚ ⋆。
“babyyyy, i had the best time tonight. i feel like i’m covered in stars. areum’s parents have this sprawling backyard, so we collected a bunch of blankets, packed a picnic basket, and stayed out for hours beneath the most beautiful willow tree i’ve ever seen. i wore linen pants and a bikini top—your favorite one. i had a cardigan too, just in case, but the weather was perfect. i really needed to get out of the city. i know you know that, and i wanted to call you because… hmm sometimes i feel like my life is strung together by reminders. reminders of you and other people and things i love. reminders of our beginnings and all the sweet milestones along the way. i think my love could light up all the stars, more stars than i could ever see with my own eyes, enough stars to make a path between your hometown and my own. i’ll bring you back a jar of stardust. it’ll be empty… you’ll think it’s empty. sometimes magical things are invisible, or they just glow in the dark. anyway, it’s late, like 3 am, and i’m honestly glad you didn’t answer. as badly as i want to hear your voice, you should be asleep. i hope this voicemail makes you smile in the morning. i’ll send you some pictures too. see you on sunday. MWAH kisses *giggles*.”
♡a voicemail for jeno˚ ⋆。
“i’m going to my mom’s tomorrow, and i keep thinking about the drive. i rented a car… you know all of this already, but i guess it’s just present in my mind again. i’m staring at my luggage right now, and the entire thing feels wrong. i’m sorry if this sounds horrible, but i’m so used to you leaving. i’ve gotten really good at that. i’m good at being alone. i made sure i love my apartment and feel at home in it when you’re away because i’d fully unravel or find myself at your place more often than i already am if didn’t love it… stopping by to water all of those plants you don’t actually have. anyway, yeah… it just feels weird. i feel like you should be coming. i keep thinking about driving together: which one of us would pump the gas? who would run inside for snacks? what would we talk about in the car? would you drive halfway or drive all the way because you know i’d rather not if the option’s available to me? i know i’ll be fine. i’ve driven long ways on my own before, but it’ll be weird. i’ll be in a guest room. i don’t know what color the comforter is. i don’t know if i’ll like the sheets. my mom knows i’m weird and particular, but will she remember that when she’s fluffing up the pillows? what will i do when i can’t sleep? i love my mom. i haven’t seen her in months, but i close my eyes and daydream about being with you. i yearn for you in the stickiest of ways. it probably falls off of me too and hangs thickly in the air, gets stuck to the bottom of people’s shoes. i’d apologize if i knew, but i’m all caught up on you you you... i’m saying all of this, but i know this trip will be good for me. i know i’m not dependent on you, but last year was one of your busiest yet. and pride isn’t a question—i’ll spend my entire life being proud of you, but i can’t pretend there weren’t nights when the missing was so palpable i couldn’t sleep, so i read or baked bread or watched my toes wrinkle in the bath. it would be good for me to sleep at my mom’s, wake up to a new view, share breakfast, and simple conversation. i know i need the rest. i know everything will be fine.”
♡a voicemail for haechan˚ ⋆。
“if you told me the grass and the trees and the streets are all white, i would believe you. it’s like a blizzard out there. i’ve never seen so much white in my entire life. honestly, it’s kind of freaking me out, making me feel claustrophobic. i look up at the sky, back down again, and nothing changes, apart from the shapes and the saving grace of traffic lights—at least their colors are still clear. could we get by with just green, red and yellow for the rest of our lives?… some food for thought. anyway, it’s snowing *laughs*. i’m on my… third? tea after a few hot chocolates as well. no food so far today, just warm drinks. last time it snowed, you made kimchi jjigae and we ate in front of the window. do you remember that? we brought over my coffee table and the pot, bowls, and rice… i stopped listening to your story, all zeroed in on a snowflake. i didn’t look away until you kissed my neck. that’s quite a dangerous superpower: you have me at will with kisses, but i trust you with my weakest point... it wouldn’t be the same if i make kimchi jjigae and eat in front of the window without you. i should sit at the dining room table or maybe even the kitchen island—give myself a break from all the white. hopefully, i can still see you tomorrow. maybe you can kiss my neck again and tend to a few of my other weaker points… i love you.”
♡a voicemail for jaemin˚ ⋆。
“i want you to come over right now, and i know that you can’t. i also know that i might not see you for a couple of days, but i want to do nothing with you. i wish it didn’t feel silly… or embarrassing to want. i don’t know why wanting is so uncomfortable for me to share, especially because i’ve wanted loudly with you already, over and over again… but i guess i just wanted you to know. i painted my nails and went to the grocery store and chopped bell peppers because if they’re already prepped i know i’ll be more likely to eat them. i hung up some pictures in my room, and i kept thinking about you when i’d step back to make sure each one was straight. you would’ve done that part for me. i want to do everything together, and i don’t want you to feel bad because we can’t. that’s not why i’m leaving you this. i just know how happy it makes me feel when you express your want for me, in small ways, in spontaneous ways, in sexy ways… in uncomfortable ways, when you just want to be held, when you just need me to listen… it never ends with you. it never ends with me. we’re these entities that constantly move together and around each other, and i know i can get where i need to go without you, but it’s so much more fun when you’re here, and we’re in motion together. i’m making tea, and i think i’m going to drink it on the balcony. i’ll have to put socks on and a coat, but i want to hear the traffic noise and look down at people by themselves or in groups walking around and existing. i was existing for a long time. i felt really disconnected from living, but i knew i wanted to—to feel like i was living again. i just wasn’t quite sure how to get back to that place, but i was starting to figure it out when we met. on our first date, i felt like i struck gold. it was in your smile and your laughter, and this feeling that embraced me because all of a sudden i wasn’t nervous. i had only said your name out loud three times, but it felt so comfortable in my mouth. i remember leaving and whispering it to myself over and over again, and i couldn’t help but hope it would become a name i’d say for the rest of my life. so i’m going to drink my tea and enjoy this beautiful city we live in. i’m going to fold laundry and plan dinner. i’m going to think of you and get excited about the next night we fall asleep together.”
♡a voicemail for chenle˚ ⋆。
“i made it through the list of movies you left me. that sticky note is cute by the way. i like the border of little bears wearing scarves. where’d you get it? i almost threw it out on accident yesterday when i was cleaning my kitchen. now it’s living on my fridge. i taped it down on every side so my cleaning, autopilot fingers can’t attempt a second disposal… when you get this, i’d love some more movies. i’d ask for a horror film, but the idea of watching anything scary without you sounds worse than unclogging the shower drain or some other unpleasant household chore. oh! i went out this morning with chaewon, and she’s dating someone new. i started talking about hosting a dinner before i could really think it through. would you host another one with me? no pressure. chaewon told me not to even mention it to you, something about bad luck… she needs to wait a couple months before bringing them around all of our friends—has to pass 60 days of dating. there’s something romantic about a dinner party to me, though. maybe it’s just the wholesome quality time with my favorite people and knowing you’re only a look away. i don’t know if you remember, but you would always trail your fingertip up and down the back of my arm and kiss my cheek every time you got up, never wanting to interrupt the conversation but noticing the glasses in need of more wine. *groan* everything you do turns me on… ridiculous. do you even have a clue? no, i know you do. *sigh* g’night sunshine.”
♡a voicemail for jisung˚ ⋆。
“that fight was gross. i had to shower as soon as i got home, and the clothes i was wearing are already in the washing machine. are you ok? i know we tried to make it pretty again, but it felt ugly even at the end, and your eyes were so red. i hate seeing you cry. i love it actually… seeing your emotions, but never when it’s like that. i was so close to going to your favorite restaurant and picking us up something, but i know you need some time. but, if you listen to this, you can text me if you’re hungry, and i will go to your favorite restaurant. i can leave the food outside or just in the entryway, unless you’re crying again when i get there. then, i will take off my shoes and hug you, and i won’t stop until you at least hug me back. i’m so sorry. i don’t… most of the time i don’t feel insecure, but sometimes it comes out, and it takes this ugly shape that looks alien to me. i hope it looks alien to you too. i don’t want to be that way often enough for it to become familiar. tell me if it ever does. the idea alone makes me feel sick to my stomach. please text me at least. ok. dammit, i don’t want to hang up. i keep thinking you’ll pick up—”
#nct dream drabbles#nct dream imagines#nct dream blurbs#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct dreams scenarios#nct dream x reader#nct dream x you#nct dream reactions#nct dream fanfic#nct dream headcanons
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I will never forget the time I was in adult Sunday school at a United Church of Christ in the early 00's, and the pastor leading it looks at us and says, "y'know what I don't get? why people think the Epistles are the literal word of God. It says right here: this is a letter from Paul to the Ephesians. That's not the word of God. It's the word of Paul. To the Ephesians."
Far-right Christians really do the Bible a disservice by treating it as a book God dictated and had wrote down for him. It's a living document, ever evolving just as Christianity has. It's an imperfect work written by imperfect people talking about the perfect God within the context of their time and culture. I really want to make a project out of rereading my Bible and reading it that way.
#the way conservative Christians treat the bible is idolatry quite frankly#anyway if this perspective is new to anyone. I cannot recommend enough the Rachel Held Evans' book Inspired
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preachers son!art is a ginormous fan of domesticity...
i think throughout his life he never really saw his parents be domestic with each other if that makes sense. there was no cooking together in the kitchen or sitting down on the couch together to watch something as mundane as the news. his dad would always be in his small home office writing/planning new sermons for sunday or dragging art to choir because they need him to play a song on the piano. and his mom was always in the whole 'up-keeping the house and rearing the children' role. that lack of appearance when he was growing up and comparing his parents relationship to things he would see his friends parents do or see on tv, the idea of domestic acts became something that he dreamed of whenever he thought of his future with someone.
he likes waking up and turning to you when you're still asleep after you spend the night with him. it's early, earlier than the time you wake up usually, and his beds by the window because he likes to wake up to the sun being splayed against the walls of his room. but he also likes how the sun hits your skin through the blinds. and how at peace you look in scrunched up striped sheets and big matching duvet. he'd brush the hair out of your face and then wrap an arm around your middle and wait for you to wake up.
you introduced him to the idea of a fully guilt free lazy sunday, something that he's not entirely used to due to the weekly sunday church outings that was treated as something that's sinful to miss. but being able to enjoy a proper, good sunday with you is something that he utterly values. he likes going out to do small things with you: coffee shops, the park, grocery shopping, really anything. kind of like a young elderly couple which is an oxymoron but i think that makes the best sense. he's the type that likes to sit next to you rather than across and he has a hand on your knee and your arms around his.
even just doing your laundry together is something that he really enjoys. its a really small thing but it's a natural constant regardless of anything. its the random conversations that you guys have when sitting together waiting for both of your laundry to wash or dry that he likes. and if one of you brought earbuds and you share them while the two of you wait (kinda like that scene from babydriver because i think of that daily). it's just so simple but it's so personal to him to do these little things.
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Oh most noble Prince of the Angelic Hierarchies, valorous warrior of Almighty God and zealous lover of His glory, terror of the rebellious angels, [...] my beloved Archangel [...] with your powerful weapon cast far from me into the infernal abysses that prevaricator and proud angel that one day you prostrated in the celestial battle. Amen.
#yugioh 5ds#primo 5ds#placido#stardust dragon#ygoart#dana art#it's sunday it's time for CHURCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#IDK HOW I HAVENT DONE A PRIMO ILLUSTRATION YET#will make a followup talking about the inspo and reference in this/some analysis of my favorite failangel. my peemo.#caption is from the Opus Angelorum prayer of consecration to st. michael the archangel ^_^ ✨
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yes! i do with my whole heart i truly do
op i know you said to write in the tags but it's easier for me to just write it under to cut i'm sorry i have a lot to say
starting off with why do i believe in God? this is my testimony :3
i did not exactly grow up christian but i did go to church with my grandparents when i was young and those moments were so special to me, they stayed with me throughout my life. the last few years i had been going through it ngl i was so miserable i literally did not want to exist, i was in so much pain. then i lost my grandfather and that was a breaking point.
if you asked me at this time last year i would say i don't believe in God or demons and such things. but so much has happened that literally no one could convince me God isn't real. He has done so many wonderful things for me in this life.
i literally had a demon i will admit that right now. demons are not just these ghosts or monster things, they are real. i had one, my mom had one, my sister had one, my brother had one. i once had terrible anxiety and panic attacks, i could not leave the house without freaking out and literally crying. i hated my dad, i literally told him that to his face and refused to talk to him for almost 2 years. but i love him so much, i regret my words heavily. i contemplated many horrible things.
my sister and brother couldn't go to sleep for so long because they were so scared to, my sister heard screams telling her to get out every night, my brother had constant nightmares. i'm not even being dramatic. my mother called herself a witch and dabbled in witchcraft. there was even a time where i was seriously worried for her mental and physical well being.
a bit after my grandfather's death, my family visited this strange place in the city, there was this psychic who told them that my grandpa was watching over us. that he was there with us. that may have seemed comforting, especially to my dad and his mom, who were hurting so badly at the time, as you can imagine. but right after that, when we got home. my mom and dad started arguing constantly. they were on the verge of divorce. and my mom and grandmother? they loved each other, but even they too were fighting.
at the same time, my siblings were hurting. oh and by the way, the lady gave them this weird peice of paper that had Jesus Christ's name on it upside down!??? call me delusional but that was the work of the devil. i'm not lying, this was all very real. it was scary to experience.
but sometime during last summer, my mom met this woman, who reminded me a lot of my grandmother... and guess what? her husband's mother literally grew up with my grandma???? it wouldn't have mattered so much if they grew up together in our small town, but no, they grew up in an even smaller town in new mexico together! so of course our familles really hit it off.
she mentioned that she volunteered at the food pantry at her church once, i love volunteering and have since i was young. so i thought that maybe i could come too, i enjoyed it a lot. and even wanted to try going to their sunday service. let me add that before that, i had been questioning my religious beliefs a lot. i had visited a few churchs, but none of them felt... right. this one was different. you could feel it, you could see it. it is unexplainable in words. my mother was crying, it was scary at first. she's been through so much, i hate to see her hurting. but no, she wasn't hurting, she was healing. truly healing. my siblings finally stopped having such terrible nightmares.
a few weeks later, the church had a sale to raise money. my family went to help out, and as i was looking around i happened to pick up an angel. that angel belonged to who i now call my dear grandfather in Christ's, late wife. the angel says "All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother." on it. i showed it to my mom, of course, and he came over to me, told me how it was his wife's and how she got it for her own mother. and he bought it for me.
i wrote him a thank you letter after that, and we began to write letters to each other back and forth. he shared his own testimony with me, and it was so comforting to my heart. like i said, i lost my grandfather. but i shared in the sorrow of losing someone and made a friend. i truly believe this was all done by the Lord. no one can convince me otherwise. that is just a sum of my story, so much more has happened since then and before.
the enemy thought he had me, but God saved me and my family. the devil is out to hunt us, hurt us, kill us, and bring us down to hell with him. he'll use our weaknesses and bring us down. he'll shame us and tell us terribile things that are NOT true. it's scary. he's knows God has already won and he is trying to take as many of us as he can before his downfall. he has convinced so many of us that God isn't real, that He isn't listening and caring towards us. satan is a liarrr!!!!
but. but but but!!! God is better like i said He has already won
and okay something i see and hear a lot is if God is real then why do so many suffer? that is a genuine valid question!
God never said we won't suffer. there will be hardships in this life, and following God, i must warn you will bring more upon you. you know why? because of the enemy, the devil. he hates when God takes back what is His. His children, whom he loves. satan will fight claw and tooth to try to get you back, but you were never his to begin with. Jesus paid the price for all our sins with His life, His blood. He suffered for us so that we may know Him. we are His if we accept Him into our hearts.
He promised He will always be with us through all of the attacks the devil throws at us. He will heal us time and time again. He will lift us up no matter how many times you fall. i don't care what anybody else has told you, God will never give up on you. He's not mad at you, you're not worthless in His sight. you are wonderfully and beautifully made. those are His actual words.
but also God wants to help us grow, and sometimes in order to grow you must go through some pain. He wants us to talk to Him. He wants a relationship with us. He wants us to know Him. He's literally our Heavenly father.
if you are hurting right now, i truly encourage you to try talking to Him. just for a second just a word. just ask Him for help, pray "Lord help me" and He WILL answer you. He hears us and He wants to help us.
i promise you it will change your life. if you trust what i say even for a second it could save your life
i would like to apologize to all those who have been hurt by others who claim to be christian. but they are not God.
God is love. He loves us. He sees us where we are and will save us if we ask. yes He still loves you if you are gay or anything of sorts, no matter what anyone says. we are all sinners anyway. i am. all of us are!!! our flesh is against us and no one is perfect and we all fall short that is why Jesus came down to earth to save us.
Jesus came here not to end all injustice in a worldly way, but to give us a promise of eternal life, in a kingdom of gold with Him, and all we have to do is follow Him and believe in Him
and at this point (if you are still reading, oh may God bless you) you're likely thinking this girl is crazy! i am! verily so
but He has promised us that at the end of this life we will join Him. we won't cry and be hurting no more, we will be with our creator. isn't that beautiful? no?!
He loves us, that is the truth. it pains Him to see us hurting, so much so that he collects every tear that His children cry. but He promises to turn those tears into joy and peace. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He sees how broken we are, our worst our best our everything and He still without a single doubt loves us. you can't say that isn't beautiful. to be seen and so unconditionally loved
it's the most comforting thing in the world to me i'm a mess without Him and i need Him everyday. i feel so alone without Him.
not everyone will admit it. but we have all felt it. some time or another. that empty space and void in our life. that feeling of complete nothing. that's our soul longing for itself. The Holy spirit fills that space with our Heavenly Lord's love
"God isn't real where is the proof?"
this world is proof in itself. the world could not have created itself. i'm sorry but it's silly to think so
every painting has it's painter and every building has it's builder, yes?
but i'm not forcing anyone to believe in God. not even God is forcing himself upon anyone (again i say God is not ppl) it's not my job to do that
but i want to share how lovely His presence is to me. how He has changed my life. i know that even though i hurt He will always be with me and comfort me and He blesses me in ways i could never imagine
i pray that this may be a seed to someone who may read this i pray that someone may share in this joy with me. we should totally be friends in heaven frfr
i'm insane but i know my creator. i know He has given us all the gift of being able to know Him and talk to Him. all we have to do is believe in Him. simple as that. just for a second and it will change your life.
the faith of a mustard seed can move mountains
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The End of Time: Part 2 // The Church on Ruby Road
#dwedit#doctor who#simm!master#usertennant#usertoph#parallels#the end of time#the church on ruby road#tenth doctor#carla sunday#ruby sunday#fifteenth doctor#ours#by lanie
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sarah jane spends the majority of her adult life believing her parents abandoned her as a baby leaving her alone in a pram to be adopted by her auntie but it turns out in the end that she was the one who caused the events that led all of that to happen and essentially dropped her baby self off on the doorstep of a new life. something to think about regarding ruby sunday and figures under a hooded black cape. im on to you rtd. the trickster legit sounds like a member of the pantheon. maybe he’s running the tv show
#now i say this every time but right now i think i may have connected the dots for real#dw#doctor who meta#sarah jane smith#the sarah jane adventures#sja#dw meta#doctor who theory#the church on ruby road#ruby sunday#fifteenth doctor#the trickster#russell t davies#the temptation of sarah jane smith#doctor who series 14#doctor who#kitty.txt
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Who are you?
Bonus:
Doctor Who | The Church on Ruby Road
#doctor who#dr who#dw spoilers#dr who spoilers#doctor who spoilers#15th doctor#ncuti gatwa#ruby sunday#millie gibson#mrs flood#anita dobson#who are you mr flood?#time lord? previous companion? future companion#the master?#the church on ruby road#20231225
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drop your guesses in tags who you think Mrs Flood is 👀
#either an older incarnation of a time lord we dont know of yet#or maybe even Susan?????#or a companion we havent met yet#doctor who#dw#ncuti gatwa#the church on ruby road#ruby sunday#15th doctor#fifteenth doctor
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pray for me please
#about to go and have a discussion with my current ministry leader about taking over for her#she's the administrator for the entire church and I have more time + passion and plans for this ministry#my dad (in the worship leader rotation) even said I would make a good Official ministry leader#I would have a leg to stand on in training and in asking for better organization from other teams I work with#it's very chaotic rn because one woman is overseeing pretty much everything and I would like to make it... different#I'd like to implement some things but I don't really have any place to ask for them right now#I feel like I can't ask speakers to get me their verses by Friday instead of on Sunday morning#I can't implement an inter-team preservice meeting because I'm not in charge#I would like to be#however I am very small and nervous. I'm only 21 idk if they'll go for me being In Charge of this#but the overall church admin has said I have administrative skills. I come in and help her during her office hours when I have time#I know this ministry and all I'm essentially asking for is to be a stage manager instead of just a technician#anyway. yeah pray for me please#Lu rambles#faith tag
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Okay y’all so I have been thinking about the finale since Friday and the more I puzzle on it, the less I believe Ruby’s fairy tale ending was genuine. I of course was a big proponent of the “Ruby is River’s daughter theory”, but I am starting to be one of those people who think she is an unknown member of the pantheon. More specifically, I think she may be the daughter of The Trickster, I’ll go into why.
Let’s start with Ruby’s “mom” in the flashback, her hooded face with humanoid lips visible gives me serious Trickster vibes from SJA. A constant lament was “WHY CAN’T I SEE HER FACE?” Well, The Trickster really doesn’t have much of a face aside from ruby-red lips and sharp teeth. Honestly, why would a 15 year old have such an ominous cloak and where did she get it between the maternity ward and abandoning Ruby at the church? Granted a 15 year old still high on painkillers from giving birth could definitely do some zany shit, but it seems like a stretch to me. If my hunch is somehow correct, I would go so far to say that in the time window they did not see Ruby’s parent crying under the hood, but rather laughing maniacally. In fact, I honestly thought she was laughing when I first watched that scene. If the “mom” is actually The Trickster, then he would definitely have been laughing as he takes great pleasure in messing around with The Doctor and their companions.
The Trickster is the god of traps, which typically involves some narrative that a person falls prey to in order to be ensnared by the trap set for them. Ruby as the child of that entity could totally be able to create narratives that people would happily believe and become a part of, or to put it succinctly: a story. It isn’t any further of a stretch than the god of games having a child that is the god of music.
I think as the season went on, Ruby subconsciously created her own happy ending and bio parents piece by piece. Finding her parents seemed to be a process of creation as it unfolded. The DNA scan in 2046 only showed Ruby’s DNA twice. After defeating Sutekh though, 2024 UNIT was able to seamlessly find some ordinary and flawed woman eager to reconnect with and apologize to her abandoned child. Her bio mom is even willing to reach out to a presumable one night stand from 20 years ago, catch up with him, and see if he wants to become a father figure after two decades. Also the origin of Ruby’s name through a street sign that seemed to not exist in the footage, until it suddenly did, felt like an actual change to the timeline. I have nothing against this ending per se, it just all felt deliberately too perfect as if reality was bending entirely to Ruby’s deepest desires. To top it off Ruby somehow pulled the exact narrative of 10 and Rose’s goodbye for 15 and herself, almost as if unconsciously she tuned into one of The Doctor’s deepest heartbreaks to reflect how horribly she felt about leaving them.
I don’t think Ruby’s real story is close to done. I think her perfect ending will start to show cracks, and the reality of it will seem more created than true. Eventually we may even see her wake up to the truth of her power in time for The Trickster to come in and truly fuck around with things for her and 15. It would be interesting to see her owning her power to send her own bio parent into a narrative that The Trickster could never escape.
There is just too much that went unaddressed. How did Ruby conjure snow? Why was Maestro so disturbed by her hidden song that they said there was something seriously WRONG with her (Maestro literally refers to her as a CREATURE)? How did she fold her own timeline back in 73 yards? Why were people so terrified of or infuriated by the apparition that we now know was Ruby? Did the Ruby in the distance tell people about her ties to the Pantheon of Discord? Did the apparition know the truth of Ruby that is hidden even from herself? Why would Sutekh care about the hooded parent more than anything else he creeped on during his centuries attached to the TARDIS? Is he a Jerry Springer fan, obsessed with “you ARE/ARE NOT the parent” reveals?
One final thing that makes me think they may pull a child of The Trickster into the story. In SJA before Elisabeth Sladen passed, they were planning on revealing that her adopted daughter Sky was really The Trickster’s child all along. The episode never aired as SJA could not go on without Elisabeth. I could see RTD honoring her show by making that story canon through Ruby. After all, Ruby too is an adopted daughter.
#doctor who#15th doctor#whovian#russell t davies#headcanon#the doctor#mine#the toymaker#the trickster#Sutekh#empire of death#doctor who oc#time lord oc#sarah jane adventures#10th doctor#rose tyler#the maestro#nuwho#idk I could totally be wrong here#pantheon of discord#73 yards#the legend of ruby sunday#SJA#the church on ruby road#dw speculation#dw spoilers#sarah jane smith
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A Theory on Mrs. Flood and Susan Twist
Spoilers for Season 14 ahead!
1. Susan Twist is the One Who Waits
For those who don't know, Susan Twist is an actress who has been playing multiple background characters for this season. Since The Church on Ruby Road, she has played a background character with a speaking role for each episode.
At first, this may seem like an easter egg included by Russel T Davies. However, in 73 Yards, when Susan Twist plays the old hiking lady, Ruby points out that she recognizes her.
What if this reappearing background character played by Susan Twist is actually the One Who Waits? Quite literally, they are waiting in the background of the episodes, biding their time before they finally make a full appearance.
Additionally, there is an extra bit of evidence that may at first seem too meta of a conclusion. However, with the way the show has veen exploring more meta concepts (the Maestro playing the theme song in Devil's Chord, and the theme song not showing up after The Doctor disappears in 73 yards), this might not be such a leap after all. As we know, the actress's name is Susan Twist. And what does The Doctor say at the end of The Devil's Chord, which itself becomes a full length song? He says "There's always a Twist at the end".
(Bonus I found while writing this theory: In the behind the scenes video for The Devil's Chord, Murray Gold mentions that "The song was always called There's always a twist at the end".
The fact that the song was always called this means that the title may be more important than just an artistic choice)
2. Mrs. Flood is the Oldest One.
In the Devil's Chord, the Maestro mentions the Oldest One, who was there on the day of Ruby's birth. At first, I believed that the Oldest One and The One Who Waits were the same. However, this wouldn't explain Mrs. Flood.
Mrs. Flood is certainly not a normal old woman. She is one of the only characters with the ability to break the fourth wall, and demonstrates knowledge of The Tardis, in a scene which suspiciously happens in the middle of the end credits, almost breaking the reality of the show.
I have heard the theory that she could be Older Ruby, yet we have seen old Ruby in 73 yards. Additionally, breaking the fourth wall is a reality warping power. It's a power we have only seen used by the Maestro, and The Doctor right before the Twist musical number (where reality breaks due to the remnants of Maestro's power lingering after their banishment)
Could it be that she is also a member of the Pantheon? If so, I believe that they are the Oldest One. The only major argument against this theory is that the Oldest One is stated to be a He, and Mrs. Flood is referred to as She, but Mrs. Flood can merely be another form or disguise for the Oldest One.
Ultimately, I believe it would be interesting if these two suspicious old ladies are the very extra-dimensional beings that we are warned about.
Thank you for listening to my wild theories! Reblog and comment your ideas, I'd love to know what you guys think about this. I hope you also see my next theory, which is coming out soon, on the identity of The Oldest One. See ya!
#doctor who theory#doctor who series 14#doctor who fandom#doctor who spoilers#doctor who#dr who#dr who fandom#shitpost#theory#15th doctor#ruby sunday#the one who waits#the oldest one#the church on ruby road#doctor who the devil's chord#doctor who boom#space babies#doctor who church on ruby road#boom#doctor who space babies#the devil's chord#73 yards#doctor who 73 yards#fifteenth doctor#tv shows#its theory time#hope you guys like it#cuz i spent all night on this lol#susan twist#mrs. flood
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guys am i your craziest mutual. mutual in laws am i your craziest mutual's craziest mutual
#desire mona#chappel moan............. actually i do not think that will work#me and ur mom went to church together last sunday i listened to her chappell moan#hey pretty girl time to wake up - resilia#thoughtsing
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