#jack said ''ten'' but that was probably just rounding up

[tethered-heartstrings]

I listened to the audio at the end of aperitif and counted nine gunshot sounds, which means Will shot Hobbs once for every girl he victimized; 8 dead with Abigail as his ninth.

[happiest-hotch]

OMG please write about married!Hotch x reader going to a club tearing it up on the dance floor for a BAU night out, and an older Jack happens to be there maybe with his girlfriend and he’s mortified seeing his parents really getting down?

i would dance all over this man

Nights out with the BAU have never gotten less fun. Even as team members changed and through the years you and Aaron were away from the team, first in WITSEC then just to take a break. The plan formulated during your months together in hiding had been to wait until Jack was at college before going back to work

Hanging out at the regular bar was a sign nothing had changed in a decade.

After finishing probably the roughest case you've experienced since you rejoined the team, a team night out was needed, so you happily join Penelope in her mission to drag everyone out.

These days, Aaron doesn't need much convincing. He's more casual after WITSEC, and letting loose a little around the team isn't the worst thing in the world. It probably helps that he's not the boss anymore, and your unit chief also isn't opposed to letting her hair down.

He's only a few drinks in when you're able to convince him to come and dance. Maybe there's some using how much he loves you, but he doesn't protest.

It's hot and sweaty on the dance floor, and you're in a less-than-professional amount of clothing, dancing up on your husband like you're 24.

Aaron keeps his hands firmly on your hips, swaying to the music with you, but what's most sinful is his lips against your neck, very visible to everyone else, and the hard-on in his pants which thankfully remains unnoticed by anyone who's not pressed as hard against him as you are.

Penelope leans over to speak to you, or yell, thanks to how loud the bass is. "He's going to pull a muscle if he keeps dancing like that!" She jokes.

You giggle as you let him spin you around so you're face to face. It's gotten much more heated, and there's no doubt you're grinding provocatively against each other.

You hold his strong forearms, leaning up to whisper something downright filthy in his ear, but he talks first. "Jack."

You chuckle, grimacing. "That's not my idea of dirty talk."

"No." He shakes his head before nodding across the room. "Jack's here."

You pull away from your husband quickly, following his glance across the room before you catch his son. "What's Jack doing here?" You ask in shock. It's definitely a compromising position to be caught in with his dad.

"I don't know," Aaron says, taking hold of your hand and pulling you away from the dance floor and towards his son.

You briefly wonder if it's more or less awkward to acknowledge that he's seen you all over each other. Ignoring it might mean you can possibly look Jack in the eyes again at some point in the next ten years.

There's a girl next to him and you guess it's who he had said he was bringing home to meet you and Aaron during summer vacation. Her dress is probably not what she was expecting to be wearing during a round of meet-the-parents.

"That was awful." Jack deadpans, exactly like his father. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm going to burn that out of my memory."

"What are you doing here?" Aaron asks, ignoring the comments that you're struggling not to laugh at.

"Thought you guys were still on a case," Jack explains. "I didn't think I'd catch you dry-humping in a club."

You let out a chuckle while Aaron shakes his head. "Don't say that." He scolds weakly.

"I am so sorry you had to meet them like this." Jack turns to the girl next to him and says.

You offer out your hand to shake hers. "I'm Y/n, and I promise we're not always like this."

Aaron shakes her hand as well, introducing himself. "Yeah, usually our son has far better manners and introduces us to people."

"Usually, my parents aren't engaging in foreplay in the club." Jack teases you both.

You know how to get him back, and you click your tongue. "You don't know that."

It makes both boys' eyes widen while Jack's girlfriend laughs slightly, and the tension is loosened.

"Should we not mention this tomorrow?" She offers, speaking more confidently now that she can read the situation as humorous.

"Deal." You agree for both you and Aaron. "We should go."

"Home to sleep." Jack finishes the sentence for you, raising his eyebrows like a parent would do to their child, rather than the other way around.

Aaron does something you don't expect, frowning. "No promises."

[kinkandkreep]

Heyy can you do J,I,Y,X,V,S,N,E,F,B nsfw alphabet for ratonhnhaké:ton please 😊

Thanks for sending this in hun! Y'all feel free to take a gander at my NSFW Alphabet and send in some more requests! Happy reading! 

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

B= Body Part (favorite body part of their own or their lover's) 

Connor’s favorite body part(s) of his own are his arms

His favorite body part of yours is your lips (he's also quite partial to your cheeks and hands)

Connor admires the strength of his arms, how easily they allow him to carry you, and caress you and comfort you when the occasion calls for it

He likes your lips because they’re soft and oh so kissable

He could spend an eternity just gently kissing you, savoring the way you taste and holding you close *swoon* 

E= Experience (do they know what they're doing ) 

Connor…sort of knows what he’s doing

Initially

He really doesn't really have all that much experience, mostly on account of the fact that, y'know, he's a busy Assassin/Captain/Business Owner🙃

I personally headcanon that Connor lost his virginity to the person he married; in this case, let's say that's you 

In the beginning, Connor is hesitant but very teachable

He really just needed a gentle, encouraging hand to help him along and before long, he’s practically an expert at making you feel good

F= Favorite Position 

Con-con man’s a bit of a vanilla guy so I’d say something intimate like missionary or spooning

He’s also partial to just your basic cowgirl

I= Intimacy (do they prefer to "fuck" or "make love”) 

Connor prefers to “make love” 9 ½ times out of ten

The rest of the time he’s probably hopped up on adrenaline or something and needs to properly “fuck” the energy out

J= Jack Off (do they masturbate & how often) 

I wrote about this once before but I imagine that Connor actually masturbates fairly often

Which probably sounds counterintuitive given that I just said he’s a busy man but just hear me out 😂

In that drabble, I noted that he has a high libido, and, looking at it from the perspective of an average, sexually healthy person, the reader couldn’t always keep up/doesn’t feel like takin’ it to the bed all the time

So, as a remedy to the issue of essentially always being ready to go, outside of like quickies, Connor just masturbates and it helps

Not necessarily a whole lot, but it helps nonetheless 🙃

N= No (turnoffs or flat-out no no's) 

Connor will not hurt you in bed, no matter how you plead and beg and whine and moan

If that’s one of your kinks

Connor’s already lived his life around so much violence and he’s gotten his fair share of scars and injuries, and he would never want to inflict something like that onto you

Yeah yeah, he knows how to be gentle and maintain self control and he could feasibly play rough but he just prefers not to

Connor’s a big ole’ teddy bear ok, just let ‘im be soft 😭

S= Stamina (how many rounds per night, how many nights/times per week)

 Rounds per night: As many as you’re able to go and then some, so if I just absolutely had to give a figure it’d probably be 3-4 

Nights/times per week: Again, as many as you’re up for, but on his own, he could go the aforementioned 3-4 rounds every night of the week

V= Volume (are they loud, do they talk & if so, what kinds of sounds do they make) 

Connor doesn’t talk loudly, but he may whisper sweet words in his native language and even swear in it and English when things get really heated

Other than that, he makes the usual grunts, sharp intakes of air through his clenched teeth and, if you’re fortunate, you may even pull a throaty moan from him on occasion *waggles eyebrows*

X= X-ray (length, girth, any special attributes like piercings, veins, tats, etc.) 

So…here’s the thing

I think we as a community have collectively decided that Connor is, for lack of better term, packin’

He’s big, and I would even imagine he knows it 😏

Let’s say about 8 ½ inches in length, a little greater than half an inch thick, with prominent veins running along both sides 

And that’s not even me being generous

Honestly I could imagine him to be a bit bigger but I don’t want this to become too unrealistic

Even though he’s a fictional character but I digress 🙃

Y= Yearning (a look into their libido) 

As previously mentioned, Connor has quite the libido

Contrary to what one might assume from observing his personality and mannerisms, Connor has a naturally high sex drive and he practically runs on adrenaline, so while he’s not perpetually hard exactly, he’s pretty damn close 😂

Plus him being so adoring of you doesn’t help, simply observing you do the most simplistic things sends his drive through the roof

He’s just in love ok, leave my baby alone 😤

I believe that’s everything this time ‘round. I hope you enjoyed! 👋🏾

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 9

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.  

Rating: Mature - but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Family being family, brief mention of previous physical abuse/ptsd, playful and sexy flirting Summary: Your family arrives in Louisville and inevitable shenanigans ensue. Notes: Hardcore shout out to my godparents and their kids (my surrogate siblings that I love and adore) for being the inspiration for Sugar’s family. One day I’ll write about the time my godmother and I got day drunk and went traipsing through historical houses for shits and giggles. 

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

The morning is busy, despite the laziness of waking up in each other’s arms again, and includes a pit stop at Ginger’s lab to have temporary versions of your Curiouser and Curiouser tattoo applied for your family’s benefit and check in with the Statesman doctor. Standard procedure, apparently, for soulmates who have had their ink removed to accommodate their agent spouses. Your family will see the proof that you are soulmates, and Jack can wash away the evidence to go back to work after they leave. In jeans and t-shirts, you and Jack amble down to the Statesman airstrip with the Bronco and your little car to bring everyone back to his house for a few days. His three guest rooms edge out your one, so you had brought over a bag of clothes and personal items this morning to stash in his room. His place seemed enormous after leaving your little cabin, but it’s cozy in a very western cowboy kind of way. When the jet lands, the Silver Pony is right behind it. Jack’s beloved fighter will go back to the hangar, but your focus is entirely on the jet as your family disembarks. The last time you saw most of them was your cousin’s wedding, and that was months ago, so you’re itching to jump forward on the tarmac and hug your sister.

Jack stays back, not because he’s wary of meeting your family, but this is your reunion. You’re aware you can tell them things up to a certain point and he knows that you don’t want your family to know the true extent of your ordeal, but family is going to smother you. It’s their way. “Go on, sugar.” He urges you, grinning when they all shout in unison when they see you.

These are hugging people, every single one of them, and it takes better than ten minutes for the fussing and first round of hugs to die down, but you end up with your niece in your arms and grateful tears in your eyes by the end of it. Your mother, for all her lifetime of journalism, is at least keeping the questions to a minimum for now. Mostly just repetitions of “But you’re okay now?” whenever you remind her that you can’t talk about an ongoing investigation - the ‘easy out’ line that Jack had taught you.

It’s only when your personal hoard finally migrated towards the cars does Jack step forward. “Hey folks, I’m Jack.” He’s going to leave it up to you to introduce him if you want, and he’s not sure if you’ve said anything about him before.

“Ohhh, you’re Jack.” Your little sister smirks, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Kind of expected Tex to be here with you, honey. Not going to lie.” Your father, meddlesome king that he is, is occupied with caring for your nephew otherwise you’d probably smack his shoulder much harder than strictly necessary.

“No, Dad.” You focus on loading their suitcases into your trunk so you don’t murder him with your glare. “Actually, I’m really excited for all of you to meet Jack, but you have to promise not to freak out.” Your eyes glide to your right. “Mom? Promise.”

“I would never act inappropriately with your friends, sweetie,” she promises, fully ignoring the many times she has done so before today.

“Liar, but okay.” An affectionate roll of your eyes is well earned, but you stop loading bags for a second to do introductions properly. “Jack, this is my brother Matt, my sister Eliza, her husband Ed, their kids are Nate and Eleanor. And my parents, Jeff and Sherry.” Taking a deep breath, you can’t help the broad, nearly giddy smile that spreads across your face. “Guys…Jack is my soulmate.”

He can’t say that he was expecting the red carpet, but it’s almost funny when your dad’s eyes narrow instantly. “He’s older than you.” Are the first words out of the man’s mouth and honestly, he doesn’t blame him.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” You roll your eyes out of frustration that that is the first reaction from your family on something so important. “Yes, Jack is older than me. And you’re older than Mom. It happens all the time.” Granted their difference is a year not a decade, but it really doesn’t matter to you.

“Sorry.” Your dad shakes his head and shuffles forward, holding out his hand to Jack. “I was expecting her to announce that Tex was her soulmate and they had just kept it under wraps at the wedding to not steal the spotlight.” That stings, especially because he was supposed to go to that wedding, but he shakes the man’s hand firmly. “Sorry about that. But I assure you that your daughter is in good hands.”

“Actually, Tex only came with me as a stand-in. He’s a good friend.” You can see Jack flinch slightly and you don’t like it, feeling the way your heart clenches at any sign of discomfort from him. “Jack got caught up with work.” That clench becomes a swell, and your chest puffs up a little with pride. You can’t tell them what Jack really does for work, but his other title is just as impressive. “He’s the CEO of Statesman, so he stays busy.”

That seems to resonate with the family, making Jack the recipient of several reappraising looks. “So that’s why we get flown down on the corporate jet?” Your mom asks and Jack shakes his head.

“No ma’am. That’ll be Champ's decision. I might be CEO, but I answer to him.” He jokes before he takes your hand. “At Statesman, we take the welfare of our soulmates and their families very seriously. We like to think of ourselves as our own little family and that now includes you folks.”

“You’ll see how seriously they take the ‘family’ thing when you see where we all live,” you tell them honestly, shifting your niece carefully in the arm that wasn’t loading suitcases. “We have all the stuff for grilled cheeses and the carrot soup that the kids love back at Jack’s house.”

“Jack’s house?” Your mother cocks her head at your wording. “You aren’t living together already?” She knows how you feel about soulmates so it is surprising to her.

“No, but he has more guest rooms and he offered. This way we can all stay in one place together and no one has a hotel bill.”

“Purely practical. Got it.” Teases your sister, who is the only one who has heard the entire saga of back-and-forth with Jack.

“If you all want to get loaded up.” Jack offers. “We’ll get you back to the house and the makeshift family reunion can start in a jiffy.”

Getting everyone back to the house takes a little finagling but it works, and your brother rides with your parents and Jack in the Bronco to make sure they behave. The kids are fussy when you get to the house but your sister sets them up to nap with the monitor on once everyone’s bags are upstairs and - as is the custom with your family - everyone congregates in the kitchen without discussion. In fact, the biggest discussion right now is what to do with the kids while everyone is here. Touristy things like Churchill Downs and the Kentucky Derby Museum, the Louisville Zoo, and the amusement park Kentucky Kingdom are all on the list, according to your mother. “We’ll drive out to Dollywood sometime without the kids,” she tells you, glancing at your father with a grin. He’s a legendary Dolly Parton fan but the little ones would never survive the drive without totally melting down.

“If that’s something you want to do….” Jack hums. “We can always drop the kids into the Statesman day care. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Or I can stay back and watch them.”

“You guys can always add a few days to your vacation,” you offer, already bustling around the kitchen to get everyone something to drink before you start making lunch. “The jet is already reserved to take everybody else home on Saturday morning, instead of going home you can hop a commercial flight to Tennessee and check out Dollywood. If dad likes it, we’ll make it the next family vacation?”

Jack listens to the conversation, trying to get a feel for your family and he doesn’t miss the way that they are looking at him, judging him. It’s been a long time since he’s had to worry about what people think of him.

The rolls you all fill get to be obvious after a while - your excitable mother and nosy father, generally troublemaking sister and her easy-going husband, punctuated by your brother who likes to poke and make trouble sometimes or play the peacemaker at others, depending on when the mood strikes him. At the moment he is being good, just watching your brand-new soulmate to see how he deals with your parents. Right now it's a roundabout while your father pretends he isn't dying to go to Dollywood under literally any circumstances and everyone else provides him with various ways to make it happen, until he finally grins at all of you and takes a sip of his sweet tea. "Your mom and I will go for a few days this weekend," he agrees, looking around at the group of his three kids with two of their soulmates and feeling a little like the king of the castle. "I'm sure we'll love it, and we can all go back again together." He raises an eyebrow at you. "You're still gonna be able to get away for family vacation this year, right kiddo?"

"As long as you don't schedule it for the week my restaurant opens, of course I will." It's not something they would ever do, but you can't help getting excited about the opening with it being so close.

Jack leans against the counter. “It’s gonna be a big affair and we’ll have the jet standing by again to bring everyone down.” He tells them, wanting them to know that it’s going to be taken care of. “You’re doing it that Saturday or Sunday, sugar?” He asks, looking back at you.

"It's Saturday." There's no reason to hide that you love the little pet name, and you practically beam at him. "Sunday will be special because it's the first day we're doing brunch." The Sunday brunch menu was Diana's brain child originally, when you made eggs benedict for the two of you one day in the kitchen. "Just three more weeks." Your brother hovers a little, still feeling guilty for losing track of you when you came to visit him, as if the Rollins brothers wouldn't have just grabbed him, too.

Jack nods. “Some of the best damn food to be had will be available at the Statesman tea room.” He sends you a small wink. “And the sweetest desserts.”

"We heard you fell for the coconut cake just like her granddad did." Your mother grins. "There's no way around it. That cake is the best thing in the world."

“The coconut cake is to die for.” Jack nods in complete agreement, already anticipating when you make that confection again. “But her crawfish salad was what threw in the towel for me.”

“I don’t think you’ve made that for us, sweetie.” Your father eyes you with a pout as you move around the kitchen.

“You don’t like shellfish,” you remind him with a laugh. “It’s the recipe I used to make shrimp salad tea sandwiches for Eliza’s bridal shower with a few little tweaks.”

“Best damn sandwich I’ve ever put in my mouth.” Jack boasts. “This tea room of hers is going to be a success.”

“I’m gonna have to put a padlock on the fridge to keep you from sneaking into the kitchen.” Teasing him has truly turned to being second nature, and it’s gone further than it had during that first tentative week of knowing each other. There’s so much affection there that it warms you through time after time, making you duck your head when you smile at him. “Put up a picture of you in back for my staff to warn them.”

“Wanted: Sandwich Thief.” Jack snorts, shooting you devilish grin, “considered armed and dangerous but can be bribed with a cupcake.”

"You'll fit right in, in this family." From the other side of the table, your brother-in-law laughs. "Food is their love language."

“Be honest, I think it just might be her cookin’.” He jokes, sending you a small wink. “Showed her a pizza place, she didn’t like it at all.” He chuckles, watching your face morph from shock to outrage.

"You wouldn't dare keep Tony's from me." Your jaw is practically on the ground, eyebrows pinched and a pout painting the rest of your features as you freeze in the middle of peeling a carrot. "Not after truffle pizza. I dreamed about that pizza."

His chuckle turns slightly mean, so sinister – though everyone can tell he’s joking. A sound similar to the evil antagonists in every spy movie they put out, and he’s watched them all for the irony. “Then my evil plan worked.”

"So mean, threatening to keep the good pizza away." There's no heat in the way you huff at him, and if you had looked over at the table in that moment you would have seen your brother and sister exchanging amused, knowing expressions.

“Keep it all for myself.” He adds, enjoying the pouty look you’re giving him. “Do you want me to help? Get out the bowls or something?” You’ve already inspected his kitchen and grumbled about needing to bring some of your stuff over if you’re cooking here, but he just assumed that was what every chef did.

"Can I trust you with the grilled cheese?" It's barely a real question, since the man has been feeding himself for decades, but you like the small moments of domesticity that you've been sharing this morning.

“I don’t burn ‘em, if that’s what you’re askin’.” Jack moves over towards you and his hand finds your waist as he moves to your other side. “How do you make your grilled cheese?” He has a feeling it’s a little more involved than two slices of bread, a slice of American cheese and some butter.

“No reason to get complicated today.” Everybody at the table is chatting away merrily about something that happened back home, and you take the second to lean into Jack’s touch a little. “When it’s me, I do apple and bacon and a Muenster cheese. But classic American is a great sandwich to do in bulk.” He’s warm and feels safe beside you, a feeling you’re learning to relish. “This isn’t too crazy for you, is it?” You whisper, worried that on day two of your precarious relationship, he might change his mind after remembering what dealing with another person’s family can be like.

“It’s….a lot.” Jack admits quietly, unused to the large family feeling that had descended on his house. But it’s not an unwelcome one. “But it’s okay, sugar. I grew up in boisterous bunkhouses on the ranch when I was old enough to be there. Which was as long as I could sit on a horse.”

“If it gets to be too much just say the word and I’ll ferry them out to whatever tourist spot they want to see. Or I’ll bring them back to my place. Whatever you need, okay? This is…it’s new.” You sigh gently, leaning into him a little more. “I don’t want to scare you off before we even get started.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Jack uses your willingness to lean against him to curl around you. “I’m tired of runnin’ from you, sugar. I’m too damn old to be actin’ like a young buck anymore. You’re my soulmate.”

“Can’t say I’m ever gonna get tired of hearing you say it.” You hum softly, turning your head to press your lips to his cheek.

The warmth that spreads through his whole body at the simple gesture would have made him run for the hills a week ago. Now he just makes a small sound of appreciation and squeezes your hip again before he slides over to start making sandwiches for everyone.

“So this is new.” When Jack moves to one side, your brother appears between you with an unreadable expression that only hints at curiosity. “When she showed up at my place Friday night she was definitely not glowing like this.” In fact, you had been miserable and in tears, so the change has him about ready to offer to be Jack’s best man someday.

“That’s my fault.” Jack isn’t going to shy away from his mistakes, not when they have affected you so deeply. He owns who he is to the marrow of his bones. “I couldn’t get my head out of my ass long enough to realize I was scared.”

“I know she’s a pain in the ass,” Matt smirks at you and you glower in response. “But she’s not that bad once you get used to her.”

Jack chuckles when you turn around and throw a piece of carrot at your brother and stick your tongue out at him. “Mature.” He teases as he lays out the bread for the other half of the lunch.

“Middle child.” Matt tells Jack, as though that explains every ounce of your behavior. “Anyway…whatever this is…she looks happy. And she’s got her sense of humor back. So keep doing what you’re doing.”

It says something that just acknowledging the fact that you are soulmates makes you happy. Jack nods, and levels a genuine look at your brother. “Your sister's health and happiness are my top priorities.” He promises seriously.

"Glad to hear it." He may give you both shit, but Matt takes his role as older brother to two younger sisters very seriously. If your little sister hadn't met her soulmate-now-husband in high school, there would have been a lot more intimidating of boyfriends. "Like I said, she's a pain in the ass. But she's our pain in the ass."

Jack chuckles quietly, noticing how you look like you want to die, melt into the hardwoods to never be seen again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He nods towards your brother and the unspoken agreement is arranged. The one that speaks to if Jack hurts you - again - he will sit and take the ass whooping he deserves.

"Jack, honey." Your mother looks over as your brother moves away and smiles. "Will you tell us a little about yourself?" It's an innocent effort to get the ball rolling, but she's trying to do it gently. Any little tidbits to get to know her daughter's soulmate better.

Nodding, Jack decides that it’s best that he puts his hands to use while he answers that loaded question. “Well, ma’am, I was born and raised on a ranch. Decided it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore when I – lost my first soulmate. I went into the military and then when I was done with that, I joined Statesman.”

"Military?" That makes your mother tilt her head in interest. "What branch? My father was a Navy man."

“Air Force.” Jack gives a small shrug. “I have a love of planes, but didn’t get to fly ‘em when I was in because of not being an officer.”

“It’s never too late to get your pilot’s license,” your sister volunteers, her cheery optimism on display as always. If you and Jack are finally giving things a try - which it seems you are - then she wants him to be happy, too.

"I fly now." Jack assures her, giving a peacock proud grin. "That plane that was being pulled into the hangar after you landed is mine. Brought back from New York."

“You were in New York?” Your mother asks, clearly asking why without saying it.

“Jack came to bring me home.” You turn around at the counter, one hand pausing in stirring the soup on the stove. “He’s been taking care of me since everything happened.”

"And he flew a…fighter plane there…" The obvious questions are there, bubbling under her tone as if there is a piece to the puzzle that your mother can't see but wants to find out. It makes Jack grateful for the fake tattoos that are on your bodies in case someone wants to see.

"Quickest way to get there." Jack says breezily, like it was standard operating procedure to fly it. "I'm sure you understand the need to get to your soulmate when something happens."

“You almost got arrested for reckless driving the day Dad broke his leg,” you remind your mother with a raised eyebrow. “And he was already at the hospital. I’m just glad Jack had a way to get to me that wasn’t an eleven hour car ride.”

Your mom nods her head in agreement, but he can see that she knows that there is more to the story than what you’re telling. “I don’t know if I woulda survived an eleven hour trip.” He tells her.

“Hell, I might not have.” The mumble under your breath is only loud enough for Jack, but you offer your family an apologetic expression. “We can’t talk about it,” you remind them. “But I promise you, Jack is taking care of me until I’m allowed to go back to work.”

“It’s not going to affect your opening?” Your dad asks. “I don’t know what happened, but if they aren’t letting you go back to work– that’s just a precaution right?”

“Purely precaution. Champ wants me fully rested and in the best possible shape for the opening, so we’re being overly careful.” Deciding you can leave the soup for a few minutes, you go over to the table to pour a glass of tea for yourself and squeeze your dad’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m okay, and my team is amazing. The opening is going to be perfect.”

Jack finishes assembling all the sandwiches, sticking to a mixture of cheeses and smearing some of the garlic butter that he had made from your cabin on the outside of the bread. The griddle in the middle of the stove is already waiting, but he waits for you to tell him when to put them on to toast so they can be ready when the soup is.

It’s when Jack is passing by your father at the table with a stack of plates in his arms that your father hrrmphs, and you turn around at the stove to frown. “What?” You ask, knowing that sound all too well.

“He has it.” Your father huffs, pointing at Jack’s arm.

“Yeah, Dad. We’re soulmates. I told you that.”

“Sure,” your father crosses his arms. “But he also said he had a first soulmate, and second soulmates only exist in fairy tales.”

"I thought so too." Jack admits easily. "It's– that's one of the reasons why I was–" Jack stops and turns to look towards you. "I denied it. I didn't want it because I didn't think it was possible. But it is, and we are soulmates - whether or not I wanted it or thought it was possible."

“How do you feel about it now?” Your mother asks, obviously actually asking how he feels about you, and eyeing you seriously when you try to stop her from finishing her sentence.

“I would die for your daughter.” Jack tells your mother honestly. “Her health, her happiness, are the most important things in the world to me.”

“I think we can stop the interrogations on that note, don’t you?” The question may be for your mother, but it’s Jack that you put your arms around and murmur “I love you” in his ear. It’s enough that he’s not fighting it anymore. Enough that he’s willing to face the fear inherent in loving deeply for a second time. You don’t want this entire visit to be an interview.

“It’s okay.” Jack assures you, just as quietly. He had expected this type of interrogation, especially because of his actions and you fleeing to New York in the face of your last argument.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You whisper back, leaving a brushed kiss on his cheek before stepping away to grab the stick blender and purée the soup. “Everybody having grilled cheese?” The bright question for the group is meant to change the subject and distract. Everyone, especially you.

Your brother-in-law snickers, obviously onto your meaning and he nods. “I want one of course, but I’m gonna go check on the kids.” He stands up and sends Jack a nod of encouragement. “Be right back.”

Thankfully the air clears while you and Jack finish cooking lunch, and by the time everything is on the table the kids are up from their nap and wanting to talk about the horsies that Mommy and Daddy promised they could go see – meaning you will absolutely be taking a trip to Churchill Downs tomorrow come hell or high water.

“Don’t understand how you can make carrot soup taste good.” Jack groans as he spoons up another bite and rolls his eyes at the taste.

“She’s magic.” Your sister points her spoon at you in between mouthfuls. “I swear I gained so much weight while she was in culinary school. Everything she makes is amazing.”

Jack sends you a proud wink, nodding. “I can just imagine.” He tears off a bite of his sandwich to dunk it into the soup to meld the flavors together.

Normally ready to dive face first into a bowl of your carrot soup, your nephew is completely demolishing his half of the grilled cheese that your sister put in front of him, practically cackling about how much he likes it. “It tastes like garlic bread!” He gasps excitedly, as though the rest of you aren’t eating the very same thing.

Jack chuckles and nods. “I always like garlic bread best, how about you, buddy?” He asks your nephew with interest.

"Daddy says I can't ever be a vampire." The little boy declares, chest puffed up proudly as he rips off another bite of his sandwich.

That is definitely the comment made to a person that loves garlic. “That’s good.” Jack raises his brows seriously. “I’ve heard that being a vampire is no fun. No beach days.”

This seems to make the little boy pause, and think about the consequences of vampirism incredibly seriously. "That's good," he says, imitating Jack's tone the way only a child can. "I like the beach. Being a vampire does not sound fun."

All of the adults laugh and nod in agreement as the sounds of eating give way to amusement. Jack winks at the younger man. "You'd rather be a cowboy." He tells the boy seriously. "We eat garlic bread all the time."

"Cowboys ride horses." At nearly four years old, Nate's love of horses is already so well established that it has rubbed off on his baby sister - who squeals and giggles and babbles with delight whenever there is anything on the tv at home that features the large animals. "Horses are super cool."

"Horses are cool." Jack shoots a glance at your sister and brother-in-law. "There are horses here." He offers, the southern edge of the property behind the distillery is lined up with the neighbor's horse farm. The horses love to come hang out by the fence line and scarf down scraps the visitors bring them. "I'm sure that if you are really good and listen to your parents, they might let you visit the horses, feed them some apples?"

Nate's little eyes go round as saucers, immediately turning to his parents with desperate pleading painted across every inch of his face. "I'll be the best boy!" He promises, clasping his hands over his heart in the most dramatic fashion possible. "I promise, I promise!"

Jack knows that he might have put your sister and her husband on the spot, but it could also be something that the kids enjoy. The tours end around five but the horses are going to be waiting around because a lot of the staff also enjoy feeding them. The neighbor didn't mind. Hell, his feed costs dropped after people started feeding the horses.

"There are horses on the property?" Your sister asks, looking to Jack with curiosity. "Like as a gimmick or something?"

“Nah.” Jack shakes his head. “At the property line. Neighboring property is a horse farm.” He explains. “The horses love to come to the fence line and beg the tourists for the fruit.”

"And the owner is okay with that?" She glances back at her son and over at your parents, collecting reactions when Jack nods.

"Why don't we take a distillery tour this afternoon?" You suggest, thinking this might be the perfect middle ground for a family afternoon activity. "We can enjoy some samples in the saloon after and then go bring the horses some snacks?"

"That sounds good to me." Jack agrees. "I can make sure you get the extra special tour." He chuckles. "More samples and no other tour groups with us."

"Perks of knowing the CEO." Your father chuckles, raising his tea in salute. "Sounds like a plan, kids."

This is going to work. The nerves that had bounced around in his belly start to settle and Jack leans back, smirking at you as you murmur to your sister quietly. Obviously talking about things that only sisters do - or when a group of friends get together. He doesn't mind this at all.

Under the table, your hand finds Jack's thigh and squeezes gently, the quiet signal of support and happiness speaking loud and clear in the moment. You're going to make this trip a good one.

******

It’s a few hours before the tour happens. The younger kids are easily entertained at the pond in the small park nearby after the adults get everything unpacked in their guest rooms, and ultimately the large group is ready to explore the sprawling Statesman campus. Jack smirks as they start all talking at once as you field questions.

“Okay, you guys have to chill.” You’re laughing despite the admonishment, poking your sister in the arm playfully and waggling another finger at your curious father. “I asked Diana to do this tour for you herself and she’s the best, but she’s also my very closest friend down here, so you have to be nice.”

“Smart business.” Your mother teases, winking at you. “Always make friends with the boss’s wife.”

“It wasn’t sneaky or anything, she’s just really cool.” If anything, you get special treatment for being Jack’s soulmate - like your entire restaurant, for example.

“Then I think I will like this woman.” She decides, wanting to learn about your life here. Especially because your soulmate is now here. She hasn’t missed the way that Jack hovers over you and she approves of it.

“Who are we likin’, sweet darlin?” Diana has the uncanny ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere, but this time it’s completely reasonable as she strolls out the front doors of Statesman’s main offices with Champ in tow to throw her arms around you. She’d been to see you while you were healing in Ginger’s lab and Jack has filled her in on the details of the mission that he could manage to speak about.

“You, love!” You return her embrace eagerly, glad to see smiles on the faces of people you love again. “Thank you so much for doing this, Di.”

“No problem at all!” She waves away your thanks and tuts. “Your family is our family.” She promises before she turns towards the group and puts on her friendliest smile to introduce herself to your family.

“You may regret that,” your father jokes, knowing that all of his children like to bust him about being a handful.

"When you deal with the egos I do, anyone is easy to handle." Diana jokes, throwing a wink back at her husband as she ushers him forward. "This is my husband, Champ." She introduces him. "Technically Jack and your daughter's boss."

“Technically both, but only one of ‘em listens.” Champ chuckles, shaking your father’s hand and accepting a hug from your mother. “Jack’s stubborner than a mule in March muck.”

"Now Champ, I wouldn't be your best employee if I just marched to your tune and you know it." Jack shoots back, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and grinning at the older man.

Narrowing in on the way Jack says employee instead of agent, Champ shakes his head and chuckles before looking back at your siblings. "Don't ever hire your best friend, y'all. They'll drive you up a mountain, and worst of all they'll be so good for business that you can't fire 'em."

Everyone chuckles and Jack slides his arm around you. It's been a few hours and he wants to make sure you aren't too tired. He knows that even though Ginger's technically healed you better than new, he still sees you broken and unconscious when he closes his eyes. "You doin' okay, sugar?" He murmurs in your ear.

"I'm okay." You're a little tired, but all things considered it's a miracle that you feel as good as you do. Grateful just to be on your feet, you lean into Jack's side and smile encouragingly.

"Good." He hums softly. "If you feel tired, you slip away and I will make sure that your family is all tipsy by the time we walk back into the house."

"If I'm tired I'll find some coffee." You promise him quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm not leaving you alone with this group."

He appreciates that you aren't ready to throw him to the wolves, but as the two of you walk behind them, he lets you lean against him as you stroll. Enjoying the way that you are trusting him.

Diana knows every brick and every blade of grass on this campus, and she’ll tell their stories without reservation. You stay snuggled into Jack’s side as Diana regales your family with stories as the whole group of you slowly make your way through the maze of buildings.

"I bet they are all eager to see your restaurant and the tasting rooms." Jack jokes as he leans into you.

“They’re eager to eat and drink,” you joke back, wishing you felt normal enough to be in that kitchen working with your staff. “Not that I can blame them. A cup of coffee sounds heavenly right now.”

"I don't know how you could be tired." He chuckles quietly. "You managed to sleep most of the day and all night long."

“If you’re gonna tease me about it, I won’t cuddle you tonight.” Wrinkling your nose and forehead at him as determinedly as possible just makes you look silly, but it’s not exactly a serious threat in the first place. Waking up with Jack has been amazing, and you’d hate to give up that privilege.

“Hmmmmm, that sounds like a threat.” Jack hums, smirking at you. “Does that mean I need to tie you to the bed?” The words come out playfully before he realizes you might not appreciate that considering you had been tied to a damn chair and tortured. His face falls and he tightens his hold on you. “Shit– I’m sorry, sugar.”

“It’s okay.” You turn into him completely, hanging on to him tightly as your family follows Diana down the path and you and Jack hang back together for a moment. “It’s okay…you meant…you were teasing. And I love that you tease. But maybe…” It makes you shiver a little, the memories like flashes of a movie in your mind. “Maybe no bondage stuff. For at least a little while.”

“Doesn’t have to ever be a thing if you don’t want, sugar.” He promises you. “I know that it can be tough to get over it. I just didn’t think.” He rubs his hand up and down your back soothingly.

“I used to like it.” But now the specter of what happened hangs over something that used to be pleasurable, and you wonder how many other things might have been accidentally ruined by the Rollins brothers. “I honestly don’t know about it now, though. We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”

“Therapy.” Jack murmurs quietly, pressing his lips to your forehead. And he knows that if it’s something you never want to do again, he would be okay with that. Your comfort was more important than a kink.

“We should see when the doctor is available.” You tilt your head back to silently ask for a kiss, appreciating the comfort of having him close. He hasn’t left your side except to be in the next room since he brought you back to Kentucky and you’re so grateful.

It’s an easy press of his lips to yours. Keeping it gentle and soft. Still, he keeps his arms around you and breathes you in. “Anytime you want sugar.” He promises. “You want to wait until they have gone home?”

“You still planning on holding out on me like a responsible adult who wants to have open channels of communication before we’re intimate?” The eyebrow you raise at him, even while you’re murmuring quietly, is fully teasing. He’s right to want to make sure you’re talking through things before you start sleeping together. Even if you are already sleeping together in the literal sense.

“Believe me, sugar.” Jack groans quietly, kissing your ear. “I’d rather have had your tight little walls around me instead of my fist in the shower this morning.”

“As-soon-as-possible.” Mumbled together like one long word, your forehead drops to Jack’s shoulder to avoid groaning out loud. “We’re starting therapy as soon as possible.”

He chuckles, the only response he can have in a situation like this. “Of course, sugar. Whenever you want.”

“Oh god.” Your sister’s voice breaks the spell, jostling you and Jack out of your cozy moment. “You’re really in the gross lovey-dovey beginnings stages still, aren’t you?” Like you and Jack teasing each other, she doesn’t mean a word. She’s grinning the whole time and practically giggling behind her dramatic pout. “Come on, Diana says it’s time for tasting and you know nothing is going to keep Dad and Matt away from all that whiskey for long.”

Jack snorts and taps your lip when you start pouting. “We can kiss later, sugar. Right now, let’s go get drunk with your family.”

“Gross.” Eliza snorts, pinching your arm before turning back to trot up the block to promptly kiss her husband and take the baby back from him. The picture of domestic bliss teasing you about having feelings is laughable and both of you know it. “Fiiiiine,” you sigh dramatically to Jack and take his hand instead. “But I’m gonna hold you to that. Save that kiss for later.”

“I have a lot of kisses stored up.” Jack waggles his brows. “Depends on where you want them.”

“Everywhere.” Fingers threading together, you tighten your hand in his. “Absolutely everywhere. Please and thank you.”

“Think my tongue would be a good replacement for my fingers?” He teases. “With your parents in the house?” He gives you a shocked look but his smirk is smug.

“I will make literally anything you want for breakfast tomorrow.” Whatever he wants, because you know that what you want is him.

Jack chuckles and arches a brow at you playfully. “Anything?”

“Anything.” At first you were just playfully bargaining, but now you’re intrigued.

Jack senses that you see it as a challenge and he grins. “Okay, how about aebleskiver?” He asks.

Starting to walk along the path, you raise one very impressed eyebrow at Jack and hum in thought. “Do you have an aebleskiver pan somewhere in that mansion of a house?”

“Maybe?” That Jack doesn’t know but he’s collected a lot of shit from missions over the years.

“If you do, then you’re on.” Loving the fact that he’s willing to be playful, you press a kiss to his cheek and follow your family inside the building at the end of the walkway to the distillery’s tasting rooms.

The taste testing is a supreme success. With Champ there, the normal bottles that are available are quickly shoved aside for some of the more precious liquors Statesman offers. “Show off.” Jack huffs under his breath as Champ produces a bottle of ‘61 double barreled blend.

“Just wantin’ to make sure these fine folks have a good time.” Champ leans back against the bar to survey the room as you and your family enjoy the tasting. He isn’t blind to the fact that you’ve barely had a sip from your early glasses so that you could take the baby from your sister, or that your nephew’s apparent love for popcorn is currently being satiated by his own wife and one of the bartenders who provides snacks in this particular room. Diana is taking delight in sharing a basket of the salty snack with her new little friend. “She seems to be doin’ okay,” he murmurs, not nodding to you because he knows Jack hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

“Stronger than half our agents.” Jack muses, not for the first time. “Damnest thing I’ve ever seen, Champ.”

“Think I should get her to swap jobs?” Champ chuckles softly, not meaning a word of it. He had read the complete report that Jack typed up while sitting beside your pod, as well as Rye’s report and Ginger’s updates on your health. Admittedly he was pretty impressed, but he would never expect Jack to be okay with making you even a junior agent.

“Only if you want to put me in an early grave.” Jack huffs, fully aware of how hypocritical it sounds but he couldn’t take you putting yourself in danger. Hell, he doesn’t want you near a mandoline if there’s the possibility of you getting hurt, though you would fight him on that. “I just hope it’s not a front and she cracks.” Jack admits.

“You’ll keep an eye on her.” He knows Jack well enough to know that he won’t rest for a second if he thinks you might not actually be okay. “Since y’all are getting along so much better now.”

Jack cuts his eyes over to Champ. “Plannin’ on sayin’ ‘told you so’?” He huffs, fully aware of the smirk hidden under Champ’s bushy mustache.

“Do I need to?” He will, of course, at some point when it’s amusing to all present. Today he’s just glad to see you up and laughing with that smile you beam at Jack every now and then.

"No." He rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath even as he shuffles slightly. He knows now that Champ had been right but damned if he just wants to concede right now.

“I’ll save it for my best man's speech at the wedding.” Champ chuckles, looping his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.

Jack blows out another huff, wanting to comment that maybe you wouldn’t want to get married but Champ knows that isn’t true. You are the type to want a marriage and whatever else comes with a soulmate.

“Cat got your tongue, Jack?” The chuckle turns to a puckish giggle and Champ claps his best friend on the shoulder. “I’m just happy for ya, is all. You know that.”

“I know.” Above all else, he knows that Champ is in his corner.

“You gonna come back to work soon?” Now that you’re safe and mark-free, Jack is technically free to do that. Champ just wonders if his friend is up to letting you out of his sight.

“At least not until after her grand opening.” Jack frowns as he watches you laugh with your brother and sister, taking another sip of the whiskey you are tasting and debating the different notes they are tasting with them. “You know how it is when you are out in the field. I don’t want to put that on her with her opening so soon.”

“God forbid you get wrapped up in something and miss it.” Champ nods solemnly, knowing it would devastate you if that happened. He’s had enough conversations with his wife to understand how much you care about Jack. He clears his throat though, quietly, wondering how Jack will react to a bit of news. “That kid Kingsman sent us - Yvain? He’s headin’ back to London. Adjustment just didn’t happen, so they’re sendin’ somebody new over.”

Jack frowns, brows knitting together. “They sending the kid back?” He asks, wondering how you would take it now if Tex shows back up. His jaw still aches sometimes but damned if he would ever let him know it. It had been well deserved.

"Yep." The older man doesn't shift, just watches Jack carefully as they talk, with the casual air of someone discussing a shopping list. "With the new Kingsman agent. We're gonna send Bobby over. He's chompin' at the bit to flex his muscles and he's done well overseas." While he isn't thrilled to be sending his only child to a different continent for work, Champ knows that Bobby's future means more than his own comfort does. His boy is bright and clever and deserves the chance to grow.

Jack’s frown deepens slightly, born of his own mistakes and insecurities, but that can’t be helped. The only one who is to blame for Tex having intimate knowledge of you is him. It’s not at all arrogant to believe that if Jack hadn’t played fast and loose with your emotions that you wouldn’t have given the boy a second look. “They’re sendin’ two back?” That surprises him, knowing they are light in manpower. “But Bobby’ll do fine. He’s a good agent. Real good.”

"We're sendin' Yvain and Bobby back, they're sendin' Tex and this gal Isolde." The code names of the Kingsman agents give his lazy Southern tongue a little trouble, but he likes the girl well enough. "Had a call with her this morning. I think she'll fit right in."

“Haven’t seen many that will fit in.” Jack grumbles, still slightly peeved by Galahad shooting him in the fuckin’ head.

"Think you might be glad of this one," Champ shuffles slightly to face Jack. "Seein' as she's the kid's soulmate and all."

A riot of emotions rides over his face as he absorbs the news that Tequila has found his soulmate. Relief being the primary one, hoping that with that discovery, his little crush on Jack's soulmate would settle down. "How did they find that out?" He asks, trying to seem like he is completely casual and not having a mini celebration inside.

"Photos." There's a twist on Champ's lips as he sees Jack's shoulders tense then deliberately relax like he's forcing himself not to have a reaction. "That scar left from his broken arm, back during the rodeo days? He saw it in some old photos of her." Obviously when Tequila had reached agent status the mark had been eliminated from his skin and therefore from hers, as well. In the years since, the boy had nearly forgotten it ever existed. "Accordin' to Eggsy, they're a hell of a team."

“Well that could mean anything.” Jack grumbles. Wondering what this soulmate of his looks like and if he’s good for the kid. Despite his own issues with Tequila honing in on you, he still cared about him.

"We'll find out this weekend." Chuckling over the fact that Jack's protective instincts never waver, Champ shrugs his shoulders and claps him on the shoulder again. "Bobby's goin' away party is Saturday. He'd hate for his Uncle Jack to miss it. Ya hear?"

“Of course.” Jack nods immediately, smirking slightly. “Kid will be disappointed we didn’t get a chance to work together.”

"No way of knowin' what will happen in the future." Better men than them have tried to control it and failed, so Champ is even going to try for a prediction. "For now, though, this is a good choice for him. Let him learn from somebody besides his old man and his uncle. Get a new perspective."

“It’ll be a good thing for the kid.” He chuckles. “Let him get laid without a report goin’ to his old man about it.”

"God help me," Champ huffs, wiping one hand down his face. "I'm hopin' he takes after his mama in that and not you or me."

Jack grins, knowing the boy the is already a lady’s man, even if Champ hasn’t realized it yet. “Hope you don’t take it too hard when you realize he was raised by all of us.”

"Just hopin' he has his mother's brains about it all." Knowing damn well that Bobby Rogers is the same sort of man that he and Jack are, Champ ends up chuckling. "You and I? We talk a big game but we fall head over heels. That woman of mine has such a clear head that I swear she's never even heard of fog."

“She’s smarter than all of us put together, Champ.” Jack jokes. “That ain’t exactly fair.”

"And look at who her best friend is." He's seen other friends come and go from his wife's life over the years. People she could and couldn't be absolutely honest with, people she could or couldn't relate to easily. The only other friend she's ever made so quickly and completely was Ginger. Watching you and Diana laugh and chat together with your family is such a soothing balm over his soul. Champ would give anything to make his wife happy. It was worth it to bring you here for that alone. "She said it's like finally gettin' the little sister she always wanted."

“Oh god.” Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “That means they are going to gang up on you and in turn that means you gang up on me.”

"Already have." The older man laughs again, shaking his head fondly. While Jack was off being a miserable lump over the last few weeks, Champ had been seeing more and more of you around the house as you and Diana grew closer. "I'm lettin' them hire an event planner to start doin' parties and weddings. Technically it's all part of Diana's domain, but your gal will be doin' the catering out of her restaurant."

Jack muses over the idea for several minutes, remembering how you had talked about just that idea right from the beginning. "Hopefully she doesn't overextend herself and by extension - Diana." He does think you would be fantastic at it though.

"I told 'em they had to hire somebody to do the actual planning." Champ nods, having had the same worry. "Di can work magic on anything, but doin' all the tours and weddings would be too much even for my Wonder Woman. And I know your gal wanted to do these from the beginning, but she was the first one to mention hiring a planner. So it'll work out." He chuckles though, glancing at Jack. "Only question is if it's gonna be you or Tequila that gets married first."

"Shit Champ." Jack huffs, propping his hands on his hips as he contemplates that idea. "Do you know how long it's been since my first weddin'?" He asks, remembering the small, ranch wedding he had with Abigail. He had been so goddamn happy and eager to put a ring on her finger. Still a wet behind the ears virgin who wanted nothing but his soulmate. This time - and he's already admitting there will be a 'this time' - he has no idea how he will feel. He's older, more experienced and still completely out of his depths.

"Yes I do." He knows exactly how long, but he also knows that Jack needed that distance. "And when y'all do decide to make a go of it, we'll all be glad to celebrate with you."

"We are takin' things slow." Jack admits quietly. "I want to go to therapy with her. Because of what happened to her and because of my own shit I dumped on her."

If Champ is surprised, he doesn't let himself show it. He nods, rocking a little on his heels, and leans back against the bar counter behind them. "I'll make sure Doc makes space for you," he promises, lowering his voice a little more to match Jack.

"Thanks." Jack keeps his eyes on you, alert for any signs of fatigue or discomfort. Maybe a little overzealous but it has been less than 36 hours since he had held your limp body in the back of that SUV. "I appreciate that. I know I'm fucked up, have been for a long time but I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"Jack Daniels is a changed man." He can't resist teasing just a little. After all, they are friends. "From emotionless ladies man to considerate and caring partner. Can't say I ain't impressed."

"I've always been considerate." Jack puffs up, offended by that comment. "Considerate enough to let women run while the gettin' was good."

"I said 'considerate and caring partner'," Champ reminds him. "Been a long time since you had a woman who you thought of as an equal, that's all I'm saying. Never meant to imply you had no manners."

"What if I'm not good at it?" Jack's eyes tear away from you for a moment, meeting Champ's watery blue eyes before he looks away in embarrassment again. "Bein' a partner? What if I'm too goddamn bad at it and make her more miserable than she was before?"

"You're not gonna be perfect every single day." He says quietly, shifting so he's imperceptibly closer to his friend and refocusing his attention fully on Jack. "If you try to be perfect you're gonna end up a ticking time bomb of stress and urgency. Do the best you can. Support her. Be there for her. Let yourself love her in the best way you can, and when you fuck something up you make sure you goddamn apologize. And when you don't know what to do? You talk to her. Talk to the doc with her. Can't fix a problem if you don't admit somethin' is broken."

Jack has to admit that Champ gives damn good advice. He knows that even as happy as him and Diana have been over the years, there have been nights where Champ was banished to his couch in his office or Diana wasn’t talkin’ to him. So it’s obviously advice he’s used himself over the years. “I never want her to look that broken ever again.” He doesn’t mean just physically. That was horrible, but nothing could match the horror at seeing the utter defeat in your eyes. The light extinguished, the joy vanquished and luckily it had returned. He never wants to be the cause of it fading again.

"Then you're gonna have to learn to talk without just runnin' your mouth." It makes Champ chuckle a little, and he shrugs one shoulder as he looks back to you with your family - sitting now, watching the baby yawn in the double stroller. "And if you get it figured out, you let me know? I still can't quite get the hang of it, but I'm tryin'."

Jack chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out and slapping his friend’s shoulder. “Be sure to file an after action report as soon as I have mission success.”

Champ's reply is stifled when you turn your head, smiling back at Jack and stifling your own yawn. The man beside him seems to respond instantly and Champ is of no mind to keep him from you. Especially not today.

Jack doesn’t even excuse himself, just pushes off the bar and starts walking over towards you. “I need to get you back.” He murmurs before he looks over at Diana. “Our wonderful tour guide will take you folks out to see the horses, but I’m going to take this one back to the house.”

"Of course." Your mother reacts before anyone else can, watching Jack with you for a moment before looking back to Diana. "Maybe you could recommend someplace for a big group to go for dinner in Louisville? It would be nice to see some of the city while we're here."

"Of course!" Diana cuts in so you don't protest. No one is going to let you cook or play host tonight. Not if you're not up to it. "I'd be glad to give you some recommendations. Let's take the kids to the property line and we can chat?" She puts one hand softly on your shoulder and smiles. "You get some rest, honey."

The caretaking instincts have kicked in, in everyone around you, and you know that you don't have a prayer of winning when they're all dead set on looking after you. "Okay." You nod after a moment. "But I'm just a little tired, that's all. I'm fine."

Jack smiles triumphantly at Diana and your mom before he winds his arm around you. "Come on, sugar. We'll go have us a nap so you can spend some more time with your folks when they get back." He suggests, fingers stroking your skin right at your hip, easing under your shirt automatically so he can feel your warmth.

He gives you enough time to exchange a few hugs before bundling you out the door, and you tuck your hand in his back pocket as you head back toward the neighborhood. "You don't have to lay down with me, Jack, it's okay," you murmur, allowing yourself the chance to lay your head on his shoulder. "Unless my folks have exhausted you. Which I would totally understand."

Jack snorts, aware that he could continue to do whatever for hours but the opportunity to hold you isn’t one he’s willing to give up. “I’m not going to let you nap without me.” He pouts at you playfully.

"Afraid I'll leave your sheets smelling like me?" You tease, raising your head to smirk at him. As slow as you've agreed to move, there doesn't seem to be any shortage of attraction between you. Thank goodness for that.

He chuckles and holds you just a little tighter. “More like I don’t want you to be lonely in that big bed all by yourself.”

"Mmm." If you tried to claim that you wouldn't be, it would be an awful lie. "We shouldn't sleep too long, though. If they're going to go out to eat, we should think about dinner, too."

The chuckle that escapes his lips is filthy but he nods. “Baby, I’ll be perfectly happy making a sandwich for you.”

"You're not gonna let me lift a finger, are you?" Sure you smirk at the suggestiveness in his laugh, but you just pat his ass with the hand that is tucked into his back pocket.

“Are you going to complain?” He asks, lifting his brow at you. “You don’t want me spoiling you right now and taking care of you?”

"I'm not complaining at all." You shake your head, searching his face to make sure he's just teasing and not upset at all. You had seen him talking to Champ but couldn't hear what they were talking about. "I just...I don't want you to feel like you have to take care of me. I can always curl up on the couch or grab myself something to eat if you have other things to do."

“I have nowhere else that is more important than being right here.” The worry that you’re feeling smothered hits him and he looks back at you seriously. “Unless you need some time to yourself? You need me get lost for awhile, sugar?”

"No." As if to prove it, you squeeze him tighter to your side. "I just didn't know if Champ was talking to you about work or something." Looking up at him, it's easy to tell that you're both worried in different ways. "I want to spend time with you, Jack. But if you have work to do, I don't want to keep you from me. I'm a big girl with plenty of patience."

"I'm not plannin' on going back out into the field until after your big openin'." Jack admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I want to make sure we have time for a few good sessions with the doc before anything."

“Really?” Despite how well you’ve been doing this last day and a half or so, you really did expect Jack to run for the field as soon as he was able. It’s been his whole life - why would you ever think he would do otherwise? “Well,” you offer him a shy smile. “I can’t say I’m upset about that.”

"Listen, sugar." Jack stops in the middle of the gravel path that leads towards the employee housing and takes a hold of your shoulders gently. "I know that I've acted like a horse's ass, but I–" he sighs and tries again. "I want to be here for things that are important to you, and I want to make sure that you are good before I step back into the field." He rubs your shoulders gently. "I love you, sugar."

“I love you, too.” Since the shock of hearing him say it for the very first time yesterday, this time it warms you through and seeps into your bones with comfort as you put your arms around him. “And I’m grateful that you want to be home with me while we’re working up to the opening. Just like I’m grateful that you’re spending time with my family and having us at your place.” He watches you intently, you’ve found, and you keep your arms around him. “I guess I just want to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well as you’re taking care of me.”

"I'm getting used to...to caring about someone like this again." Jack admits quietly. "It’s different than caring about the people I work with or friends. But I don't mind it."

“There’s no rush.” No matter what, you’re always going to want to give him the respect and support he deserves, which means letting him come to this at his own pace. “If you want to coexist and spend all that free time together? Baby, I’m in. But I’m not going to be offended if you’re the kind of person who needs alone time to recharge.” Placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, you smile softly and lean into his arms. “We’re still learning about each other, but I love what I’m learning.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to disappear.” The words slip out of his mouth unbidden, and he wishes he could take them back. It’s a fear, a real one. That if he takes his eyes off you for a second you will be in danger or worse again.

Frowning, you pull back again and search his face. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack reaches up and runs his hand over your hair and down your back. “She asked me to go to the store that day.” He admits quietly. “When she realized she forgot the candles. But I was fuckin’ with the grill. We were havin’ the boys come up from the bunk house for a barbecue and cake and beer.” He shakes his head, reminding himself that he wasn’t to blame. If it hadn’t been that day, Rollins would have found another day to ruin his life. “I let her out of my sight and she died. I pushed you away and let you out of my sight and Rollins got his claws into you. Tried to take you from me too.” He leans forward and presses his head against yours again. “Only thing I can think of right now is that as long as I have you near me, you’re safe.”

“Oh honey…” Instantly tightening your arms around him, you press a reassuring kiss to Jack’s lips and hold onto him for a long moment. “I’m sorry. You keep your eagle eye on me for as long as you need to feel better, okay? I’m not going anywhere with you for at least the next few days. And if next week you want to come and make yourself useful at the restaurant while we get ready to open, you’re more than welcome. Just—” Your hand gently cups his cheek and brushes over the stubble on his jaw. “You saved me, Jack. You did. And Rollins is gone forever. You did that for me and for her.”

“Tiny little pieces.” Jack reminds himself quietly. “He’ll never hurt you again, sugar.”

“Why don’t you take me home so we can have that nap?” It makes sense why he doesn’t even let you sleep without him curled around you, knowing now that he’s working through fears of his own. You would never criticize him for not. Not in a million years. “We can make some sandwiches for dinner when we wake up, and see what everybody is feeling up to when my family gets back tonight?”

“I can light a fire in the outdoor fireplace.” Because his house is larger, his back yard is larger too. He had let Diana create a relaxing atmosphere out there with Adirondack chairs and stringed lights around the stone fireplace.

“Sounds perfect.” You start to walk again, arms around each other with your pace at a stroll. “Fair warning, though. My mom’s already figured out what part of your yard would make the perfect place for me to plant a garden.”

Jack laughs and the tension he hadn’t realized he had been holding in his shoulders about why he is hovering. Or the tension about how you would react to it. “Raised beds or no?”

You nod, laughing with him as you turn the corner into your neighborhood. “Raised beds for some of it, to create contrast. I swear, that woman is where I get my planning genes from. I bet if you asked her tonight she’ll have the whole thing mapped in her head.”

“Well, when you want to get planting, you let me know.” Jack muses. He doesn’t use the back yard for much and if you wanted to grow things, it would be yours to use.

“I’m not gonna take over your yard, honey.” If you lived together it would be one thing. It would at least be a conversation to have. But it’s very nice of him to be so open and welcoming. “I’m just saying it would be a chat that would make my mom happy.”

He snorts. “I hardly ever go back there.” He tells you. “If you wanted to put a pool in there, I wouldn’t care. Though I might use it then.”

As you turn the corner off the main street to head toward his house, you shrug slightly. Is not a big deal, and it shouldn’t matter. But here you are being shy about it. “It’s still your house,” you remind him. “If it were like months or even years from now and we were living together, that would be different. But this is your personal space.”

“Maybe it won’t be my personal space soon.” Jack muses. “Your little cabin is smaller than mine and we do have two agents coming in.” He says it casually, like it’s not a big deal. “It wouldn’t be much different from the last two days.”

“Did you j—” Stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk in front of his large house, you’re practically gaping at him for how casually he just tossed out the option like he was saying you should have BLTs for dinner while your heart pounds a mile a minute. “You want us to live together?”

Jack stops and turns back towards you, slightly uneasy. “You don’t have to. I know it’s a step. A big one. But don’t feel like I’m pushing.”

“No, I do!” You blurt out, flustering at how quickly you jump on the invitation once you realize it’s sincere. It feels like your chest could burst from the happy way your heart swells and you reach forward to grab his hand again. “You’re not pushing. You’re offering. I’m just…” You exhale softly, looking embarrassed. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you want me — that you love me — the same way I love you.”

“I understand.” Jack does, and he’s grateful that you are as compassionate as you are. Otherwise he would have been out on his ass. “I spent plenty of time loudly telling you that I didn’t. I don’t expect you to – I guess understand – right away.”

“How about we make this something that we talk to the doc about?” You step closer to him to put your arm through his and start to lead him up the walk to his own front door. “In the meantime, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted to accept without thinking.” It’s silly to admit, but having him be so open and eager is like a balm for your soul. “So what would you think about having an extended slumber party for a while? Even after my parents are gone. Like a trial run?”

“I was planning on that anyway.” Jack admits with a grin. “The only way you are sleeping alone is if you lock the door or when I go back to the field.” He doesn’t mention that he has dreamed about how you looked on that floor several times.

“Hmmm.” The shrewd hum through your lips is just a cover so you don’t giggle in delight, and you walk up to the front door with him arm in arm. “You’re gonna have to have my thumb print added to your front door scanner.”

“Done, sugar.” Jack grins. “You did say you wanted to cook in my kitchen.”

“Got any other surprises for me while we’re at it?” He pushes inside and you follow him, letting that buoying feeling of joy float through you.

Jack bites his lip and considers not mentioning it, but he doesn’t think that would go over well. “What Champ and I were talking about…Tex is coming back. Apparently his banishment is over.”

"Oh?" It smacks your system with a hit of anxiety, knowing that the whole situation was over you and how poorly all three of you handled it. "Soon...or? Have you talked to him since he left?" Just because he hadn't reached out to you – or answered any of your texts – doesn't mean he hasn't spoken to anyone else.

“He’ll be here this weekend.” Jack tells you. “I haven’t talked to him, but I don’t know if he’s forgiven me yet. He–” Jack wipes his hands on his jeans. “He apparently found his soulmate over there. She’s an agent too. She’s coming back with ‘im.”

“Well…that’s great, isn’t it?” The door shuts behind you and you keep moving automatically, up toward the master bedroom. Though you don’t really feel like napping anymore. “Hopefully that should…it should make things easier for all of us. To be able to put what happened behind us.”

“I don’t– I’m not jealous of what happened.” Jack grunts at his own lie. “I mean, I am, but it’s because of myself. I don’t judge you for being with the boy. I practically set that up, bein’ a dumbass.”

“If you judged me for a relationship I had when I was single, we would be having a whole other conversation.” At the top of the stairs he turns left and you stick to his side without hesitation. “But like I said, that’s in the past. And whoever his soulmate is, I hope he’s head over heels and exceedingly happy.” You flash him a smile that clearly says: like I am.

“I know.” Jack grins back at you. “Just want you to know I’m not going to act like a bull during mating season. I won’t try to keep you from being friendly or anything.”

“That’s a very vivid image you paint there, babe.” You can’t help but laugh, and flop down on Jack’s enormous bed with a sigh. “Because I do want to be friends with him, and I know you two are close too. I don’t want to be the reason that that ended.”

“Nah, it’ll take more than a puny punch to the jaw for me to stop saving the fool’s ass in the field and keeping him out of trouble when we’re at home.” Jack jokes with a wink as he peels off his blazer and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You gonna get comfortable, sugar or are you gonna watch?”

“I’m not gonna deny that I like the view.” Despite raising one playful eyebrow at him, you shift on the bed to pull off your boots, socks, and jeans first.

“Mmmhm.” You yawn again and he chuckles. Your reaction to the chamber was being sleepy. It wasn’t a bad thing but it does take a few days to get back to normal, according to Ginger.

“It’s a good view.” Your bra joins the small pile of your clothes in the bedside table so you can sleep in your panties and t-shirt. “You gonna nap with me, handsome? Or just snuggle?”

“Probably just snuggle.” He admits, not that he has any problem with that. He could hold you and be perfectly rested.

“Okay.” The two of you climb under the blankets together and you sigh contentedly when he opens his arms for you to get comfortable in the circle of their security. “Snuggles are good.”

“Yes they are sugar.” Jack kisses the crown of your head and sighs, breathing you in and reminding himself that you are here. That he needs to relax and not believe that every time he looks away something bad is going to happen. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle ​

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[deancaspinefest]

A Fabulous Evening's Apocalypse

Author: MrBotanyB | Artist: BasketcaseBetty

Posting on Monday April 1

Look at it this way: Their trip to the far end of space and time to chase a (very) long shot at freeing Dean from the Mark of Cain could have ended a lot worse than it did. It wasn't even the worst idea they'd ever had. The so-called Restaurant At the End of the Universe loops endlessly in time through the final hours of Creation while guests dance, eat, and drink until the very last of last calls. A consequence of it being a time loop is that anybody who visits can meet everybody else who was ever there. Even a centuries-dead witch who likes the challenge of lifting unbreakable curses. It didn't work out like they'd hoped, but they didn't die. True, Cas did get stranded there for a bit but they got him back. Eventually. So it was fine. That was then. And now, Sam and Dean are out of ideas for getting Cas out of the Empty. Dean has been thinking a lot about realizing important truths too late, and missed chances, and (very) long shots. And he wonders if the key to rescuing the Cas he lost might just be enlisting the help of the Cas he left behind nearly ten years ago. If it doesn't work, at least he'll get to see Cas one more time.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

"I don't know for sure if he's the man from your photo, but they do look awfully alike. He'll probably be in the Fomalhaut Lounge. You can take the service passages," Zmallia said. She stepped back into a particularly shadowy corner and pressed a barely-visible panel. There was a whirr as a door he hadn't noticed slid open. "The fastest way is to follow the signs for the engine room until you get to the stairs, then keep going up until you see the big panel of signs for the different bars," she explained rapidly. "And don't take the elevator unless you want an argument. Obviously," she added.

Dean nodded as if this made any sense at all and ducked into the dimly lit passage. "Good luck!" Zmallia called after him.

And just as the door whirred shut: "Sorry I yelled at you earlier!"

As soon as he had rounded a corner, Dean stopped and leaned against the wall, bracing his hands on his knees. The new round of headache and nausea wasn't quite as intense as what he had felt when he stepped out of the portal, but it was still bad enough he couldn't just power through it.

Going soft in my old age, he thought. It wasn't as painful a thought as it would once have been.

Many flights of stairs and about fifteen minutes later, Dean stepped into a high-ceilinged, softly-lit room decorated in dark golds and blues. It wasn't overly crowded, but it was large enough that Dean couldn't tell right away whether or not Cas was actually here. The "room" was almost a balcony, Dean realized: the longest wall was a waist-high glass railing that provided an unobstructed view of what was left of the dying universe, easily observed through the great transparent dome covering the entire restaurant. A good part of the crowd was gathered near the railing, and many others were nursing drinks at the long curving bar, which was backed by open shelving through which you could see the opposite side of the dome. Dean had just decided to ask one of the waiters if they'd seen Cas when he spotted him behind the bar, polishing a glass and looking perfectly at home, solid and real.

He had thought it might be a shock to see Cas alive again, and it was — the best kind of shock. It was beyond awesome to see Cas right there. The recessed lighting from the bar angled off his cheekbones and made his hair look even darker than it was. His uniform was spotless. He looked like a movie star. He almost looked like he was glowing.

But in a rotten, selfish way, seeing him was disappointing: this Cas lacked five years' worth of experience that had shaped the person who had died for Dean (while Dean had stood there, useless and uncertain.) This Cas had never even imagined knowing Jack. The happiness Dean felt choking his throat just meant he was putting his own greedy feelings ahead of his Cas, the one still trapped in the Empty. The one Dean had come all this way to try to bring home.

But thinking that also felt rotten. Dean knew that this Cas was, literally at this moment, waiting for Dean or Sam to help him get home. Maybe he was worrying that they wouldn't be able to. (Or wouldn't bother.) How did the Cas in front of him deserve less?

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday April 1)

[pulpandgristle]

II: GUT DEVILS

Pilot ID: Erica Trương, tertiary escort and point-defense operative of the Fledgling Seventh Fleet Status: Active Current Assignment: Supervisor for preliminary acclimation of Pilot ID "Sidewinder"

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

Sortied with the new girl today. The ratty one that still wears Earth denim. The one who cut her hair with the backblast on my mech's heat exchanger.

She ain't shit.

Oh, she'll tell you she is, make no mistake, boasting about her wetwork on the Periphery. Big fuckin' talk for an academy washout. Mercenary piloting isn't something to be proud of, not like the Corps. At least if I die it's for the Septarchy. For something real.

She mocked my umbilical too, the little bitch.

They stuck her with me as a gunner and a haptics backup. Made us share a cockpit too, even though my mech's always been a one-man setup. Command said my injuries made me a liability.

They gave me a babysitter. Fucking horseshit.

If you see any drops in accuracy, it's because of her. She kept misbehaving. I couldn't keep line of sight.

Words carry well in the oxygen medium. Her voice is like a gravel driveway: flat, dark, coarse, dust coming off the words, like she dug them out of her chest.

Out of rubble. Like a brick.

"So, the mech eats for you?"

Of course it does, you fucking idiot. Command won't pay me enough for another jaw. I said yes just to shut her up.

"Can I see?"

Then she just climbed out of her harness. She ran her hands on everything, spidery little fingers pawing at my fucking umbilical with her bare skin, cinching it to see if it hurt.

It did. Kind of. Something like pain. It's why I'm clumsier on the readouts, by the way, Command. Strike it off my record.

"What else can it do for you?"

I told her that Septarchy mechs can make anything, do anything. The cockpit's a womb, after all, it's not special. Pilots just borrow it and pull the body's strings with their fists. Standard procedure.

Every bioframe's been able to do full-body life support for decades. It's why I never leave. Why they grafted my endocrine system and my liver and my pelvis into the wall and filled my torso's empty space with surveillance equipment and gyroscopes.

Then I told her not to fucking touch anything else and to get back in her seat.

She ignored me. Figured she would. Somehow it stung.

Then we took an AP round to the calf and I screamed all undignified and she stole the reins out from under my hands.

She pretended to care that we were live-fire, sat herself in my lap, hung off the port for the secondary trigger by the loose notochord in her right wrist. Nasty craftsmanship on her neural jack, by the way, probably a custom job she did with a dendrite kit and a sharp stick. Completely unsanitary.

I saw the tendons strain. She blinked, bit her tongue, made a spot of blood in the water between us, nailed a bogey from ten thousand meters. Clean.

Lucky shot.

The muzzle flash shone through the mech's skin when she did it, a plume of gossamer light, like a halo, falling in blinding ropes through her charred hair.

Dumb little clocky gut devil. Stop distracting me, goddammit.

The sortie was over two minutes after that. Septarchy won, no casualties, Periphery force 100% KIA. She got eight kills. I got one.

Whatever.

She stepped on my chest when we were getting pulled out of the mech for decon. Then she stole my thunder when we docked and Command gave us honors—oh yeah it was no biggie, thank you so, so, much, really it means the world to me—as if she did everything herself. As if I wasn't fucking driving.

No, she's not a professional. Far from it. She would've pissed in the medium if I wasn't there, the fuckin' slob. Now the entire cockpit smells like her.

Earthy, like Periphery dirt, silicate-rich. A hint of cheap liquor. Sweat and plastic and denim and testosterone, powerful but suppressed, made graceful through discipline and chemicals.

She borrowed some of the mech's estrogen when I wasn't looking, I think. My estrogen. Little goddamn leech. Thief. A disgrace to the Corps.

I want any superior officer that sees this report to listen to me, and listen real fuckin' close. She's a menace. The next time she sorties with our compliment, get me five minutes alone with her while we go through pre-flight checks. She owes me.

Whatever she stole, I want it back.

[acceleracers-baby]

Acceleracers HC’s! Road Trip Roles! Teku Edition!

Teku

(Nolo Pasaro, Vert Wheeler, Shirako Takamoto, Kurt Wylde, Karma Eiss)

+Bonus Round

(Brian Kadeem & Banjee Castillo)

Teku

Nolo Pasaro - Nolo is in charge of picking the movies- assuming whatever big ass van they renovated comes with one of those little movie player things. Who am I kidding- these guys probably would have just installed one if it didn’t come stock. Unfortunately, Nolo’s movie choices are always pretty predictable. It’s either going to be one of the now TEN Fast and Furious movies, Pacific Rim, Transformers, or The Losers. That being said, Nolo DOES take bribes. Vert once washed his car for a week just so they could watch Surfs Up.

Vert Wheeler - Speaking of Vert, he’s the snack guy! At first, he gathered up everyone’s requests a few days before they got on the road, but now he practically has everyone’s snack preferences memorized. Let it be known that he takes this job very seriously. He genuinely goes out of his way to ensure everyone’s got at least one or two things to munch on. That’s also why he starts shopping a few days out from the actual trip, so that way if he has to run by different stores, or cut up fruit and divide them up into little ziplock bags he’s got enough time to do it. I also like to imagine at some point Jack comes home early from one of his missions and sees his son just surrounded by a shit ton of food like “are we doomsday prepers now??? What the hell is going on???”

Shirako Takamoto - I feel like I don’t even have to say it, but I’m going to anyway. Shirako is the DJ. Like Vert, he is very serious about this role. He starts curating a playlist as soon as he knows a road trip is going to happen. It doesn’t matter if he’s learning about it months in advance, he starts on it immediately. Despite always having headphones on and seemingly vibing in his own little world most of the time, Shirako is an astounding listener. He never fails to add the perfect mix of everyone’s favorite songs to the playlist. Not only that, but he has it sectioned out by hour. He wants to make sure whatever music they have playing, whether it be background noise for group conversations, or loud sing along sessions, it’s perfect!

Kurt Wylde - Spoilers for Karma, but they’re the two drivers. They work in shifts, switching off every few hours to (1) make sure they’re making the best time and (2) prevent any unnecessary road fatigue. Kurt is also practically the group big brother, so before any trip he’s sending everyone checklists to make sure they don’t forget anything. It’s ridiculous how in-depth they are. Obviously, he trusts them to fulfill their individual road trip roles but he’s on their asses for literally anything else. They’ll be ready to go at like 4am- everyone’s tired asf and he’s going around like “wallets? phones? chargers? toothbrushes???” making sure they didn’t forget any last minute items.

Karma Eiss - Like you read for Kurt, she is one of the designated drivers. On top of that though she is also the group navigator. She has like Waze levels of finding the best routes. With her at the helm, they’re able to make a 12 hour drive in a fraction of the time. Karma also has his uncanny ability to pick the best rest stops. Want to use the restroom but also take a quick breather in a nice scenic area? Good thing Karma was able to find the most beautiful truck stop you’ve ever seen with the cleanest bathroom ever. It’s honestly a little scary.

Bonus Round

Brian Kadeem - With Kadeem, it’s all about the journey, not the destination. When this guy road trips, he ROAD TRIPS. What I mean by that is you will be stopping at just about every cite to stop and smell the roses. It doesn’t matter if it’s some tacky tourist trap or one of the seven wonders of the world, he wants to see it, learn about it, and appreciate it. And if anyone one deserves to be able to relax a little, it’s Kadeem. Let this man enjoy his goofy little side quests. Especially, cause he ends up finding the greatest hole in the wall places to stop at too.

Banjee Castillo - Banjee quite literally never runs out of energy, so you HAVE to give this guy something to do or he will be miserable the entire ride. Thankfully, he is absurdly versatile. Obviously, his preferred role is to be in the drivers seat, but when he is not doing that he is the king of road trip games. 21 questions, I spy, and trivia are child’s play compared to the shit that Banjee brings to the table. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the classics, but they get old pretty fast on long road trips so he’s had to get creative in the past. It’s not uncommon for there to be three games going on at once half way through the drive. Usually two “spot em” games like Punch Buggies & Cows on my Side, and one actual game like Mafia or Song Quizzes.

——— Thanks for Reading ———

[nobedofroses]

December 26th

pairing: Jack Daniels x reader

warnings: fluff

words: 853

a/n: next one! this takes place somewhere in the south-ish, so it is a more temperate winter where flowers could live outside lol. meet cute with Jack basically, prompted by myself actually lmao

more Jack, Full List

🌨️🌨️🌨️

Every time you came home for the holidays, you ended up working at the family bakery. It didn’t matter that you weren’t even in college anymore and had a full time job of your own, you somehow always got roped in. It probably didn’t help that you loved every minute of it. 

But this time, you weren’t helping bake or even up front helping people pick out and pay for their items, you were doing a delivery. Normally, this was your younger cousin’s job, but she was off on a ski day with her friends at the local hill. You were delivering cupcakes for a holiday/engagement party, and you actually knew the happy couple so you figured you could at least say hi. 

When you arrived, you parked behind a landscaping company truck, and figured that some work around the property was being done for the party. Planting flowers, maybe. Or getting rid of anything that had died in the colder weather. You looked forward to seeing what had been done later that night when you actually attended the party. Maybe they’d even set up some of the event outside and that’s why they were doing it. 

To take the cupcakes in, it was going to take you at least four trips since there were over 200 cupcakes (probably because just about everyone in town was attending). Maybe you’d be able to rope in one of the family members to give you a hand to make it go faster. 

But just when you were about to go in through the kitchen door, disaster nearly struck. The door swung open and missed the first giant tray of cupcakes by just a couple inches. 

You gasped and froze in place, trying not to jerk and cause any damage. After looking down to make sure the box was still intact, you looked up at who was standing there in front of you, also looking shocked. And then you nearly dropped the cupcakes anyway. 

It was a man. A strong, well-muscled, wearing only a white t-shirt and work jeans, slightly sweaty, handsome man whom you had never seen before in your life. Because if you had, you sure as hell would’ve remembered. 

“Oh my goodness, darlin’, I’m so sorry, are you alright? I wasn’t thinkin’, I shouldn’t have opened that door so quick. Is your… big box okay?” he rushed out, the extra twang in his voice somehow making you even more flustered. 

“I’m— I’m fine. They’re fine, they’re cupcakes,” you told him awkwardly, looking down at the box. 

“Cupcakes! You must be from the bakery. Here, I’ll, um, I’ll open the door for you, sugar, and then I can even take you to the table where they belong. I’m just doin’ the landscapin’, but I know John, the groom, and he was just tellin’ me all about the room’s setup for tonight,” he told you, ushering you into the kitchen and through it before you even knew what was happening. 

You got the cupcakes to the table and he asked if there were any more that he could help you with and didn’t take no for an answer when you tried to say you didn’t need help. 

“I almost ruined these cupcakes, so you can bet that I’m going to make sure the rest get in place all in one piece just in case there are any other lumberin’ fools walkin’ ‘round this place, honey,” he said and you honestly couldn’t believe he talked like that, but it also made you feel all warm and gooey inside. 

You acquiesced, of course, and he ended up doing all of the carrying. You tried to take boxes yourself, but he said it was much more important that you were on door and lookout duty. And you did do your fair share of it, but it wasn’t the cupcakes that you were looking at. 

Ten minutes later, all of the cupcakes were safe on the table. The two of you stood there for a second before another look of astonishment crossed his face, “Forgive me, darlin’, where have my manners been? My name’s Jack, if I may ask yours?��� 

You told him and put your hand in his when he reached out, feeling warmth rush to your face when you felt how big and strong and warm his hand was. 

“Will I see you at the party tonight?” Jack asked, your hand still in his, his thumb brushing over the back of yours. 

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there,” you told him, suddenly so much more excited to go than you already had been. 

“Then I’ll look for you, sugar. If there’s dancin’ save me one, alright?” he asked, waiting for your quick nod before he headed out a back door, ostensibly to get back to work. 

You waited until the door closed before sitting heavily on the chair by the table and making a sort of helpless sound. Suddenly you needed a cold shower. Or a nicer dress. Or maybe to ask your family about whether they needed your help more often. Like maybe all year round.

🌨️🌨️🌨️

[slygirlboy]

The Mourning

“Christ Jed, what the hell is that?”

I stood looking at the wall of Jed’s barn, at his newest attraction. Something straight out of one of those sci-fi or horror mags was nailed to the old wood.

“Don’t rightly know,” Jed replied.

I had to admit, the hoax this year was impressive. Last year it was a giant’s bones he had “dug up” on his property. Bones we weren’t allowed to touch, lest we discover the plaster of paris it was made with. He probably had a lot of that stuff left over from the sasquatch footprint he did the year before that. And before that was the mermaid he fished up in the lake on his property. He was able to charge people to fish in his lake that year, and all it took was some creative taxidermy with a fish and a shaved cat.

But the thing this year...it looked almost beyond his capabilities. All the years of making hoaxes had done their work, and developed his craft excellently. The thing looked as if it had leapt out of a Hollywood movie. Jed could probably sell his property and work in some effects shop somewhere if he really wanted to with this kinda work.

“Dollar if you wanna hear the story.” Jed’s rocking chair creaked forward as he leaned in and slid a large glass jar forward. Coins littered the bottom, and a layer of crunched up bills laid on top of them.

I sighed and reached for my pocket. Hell, he deserved it this time. It was an impressive dummy. I took out a rubber-banded roll of cash and pulled a dollar out, dropping it in Jed’s jar with one hand while returning the roll to my pocket with the other.

“Thank ye kindly,” Jed said, a smile on his face.

“Only a dollar? You charged people ten to fish at the lake those years back. And it was five to look at them bones last year.”

“Well,” he looked around side to side, “Between you and me, Jack, aint no secret that those were…less than true.”

“Aint no secret at all,” I smiled.

“Shut it.” he said sharply. “Point is, I put in less work this year round. Didn’t have to make no big monster dummy. All I had to do was kill the fucker.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair, creaking as it went.

I scoffed. “You tryin’ to tell me Mr. Halloween-City up there is real? Like that mermaid and pixie you had before?”

“No damn it, I’m tellin’ ya it’s real this year.” Annoyance flashed across his face, his brow furrowing. I don’t know what he expected after years of hoaxes, but belief shouldn’t have been it. “Listen, ya paid yer dollar, you wanna hear the damn story or not?”

“Sure, Jed, sure.” I said. Why not; I came here to be entertained after all. Jed’s yearly pranks were well known in town, and everyone always stopped by if only to see what he cooked up. He actually had the news show up the year he had the jarred pixies. The town actually had tourists that summer. To this day, some businesses in town still sell merchandise with pixies on ‘em; cookies shaped like the things, t-shirts, keychains. Say what you will about Jed and his hoaxes, it’s worked out for the town before.

“Alright,” He relaxed a bit. The chair creaked. “Was last Thursday. Was driving my truck back from Macky’s late at night. Takin’ Howard road, ya know, the one that goes near them trails? With that canopy of trees that blocks the sky?”

“I know the road Jed, I been here a long time.” The part of the road he was describing was well known to me. There was a nice trail entrance nearby where people could walk and enjoy the woods. Right off that trail was an open area the Boy Scouts camped at yearly around Earth Day. The river was also a popular spot for kids to sift for shark teeth. Not just the kids, it seemed.

I squinted at the thing on the wall. Looked like Jed had gone there recently, too. The thing had a human-like face, though gray and misshapen. What caught my eye was the mouth. It hung open, stretching longer than a human’s jaw should. The corners of the mouth were ripped open, long slashes going to the middle of the cheeks which allowed the jaw to drop unnaturally low. And inside the mouth lay those teeth, the same as the shark teeth that could be found in the river. Jed must have made a trip.

“I was driving on the road,” he continued, “When I heard a THUMP-” He slapped an open hand on the table hard for effect. “Coming from above me. Somethin’ had landed on my truck’s roof. With all the damn trees on that road, I had assumed that a branch had hit me or somethin’. Wasn’t the first time. I kept driving home. I don’t know if that was a mistake or not.”

“I thought I’d check the damage once I was home. It was late and I was tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was stop. Plus, there wasn’t exactly a lotta light out. Would be pretty hard to check the roof of my car out there. I’d do it in the comfort of my own garage. It was only once I pulled in that I realized something was wrong.” “I drove up my driveway, used my clicker to open the garage door, and pulled in. I turned to get something out of the backseat. Something was off. I couldn’t place it, but something just didn’t feel right. Was I forgetting something? Leftovers from Macky’s were in the passenger seat. Still had my wallet in the cupholder. Now just what the hell was wro-.” Jed stopped mid story and leaned in closer.

“The roof of my car was pierced. Two land holes in it, one slightly behind the driver seat, back and to the left, and one slightly back and to the right of the passenger’s seat. The thing that made the holes was still there, and it wasn’t no branch. Long claws.” He nodded up at the thing on the wall.

It had remarkably long arms, with legs only half the size. At the end of each arm was a three digit hand with long nails (or, more accurately, claws) stretching out. Jed pinched his thumb, index, and middle finger together and held it up to me.

“It had its fingers together like this and pierced my car roof with ‘em,” he said. “Musta dropped down from the trees and hooked itself onto my car. Was riding with me for miles. Lord knows what it wanted to do to me.”

“I hadn’t moved for a while. I was terrified. The car roof began to creak under the thing’s impatience. I had one shot; the door to my house was right next to me, ‘bout ten feet from the car. One lucky swipe from the thing on my car roof was all it needed to get me. I’d need a distraction. Then I remembered my clicker, my garage door opener.”

“I held it in one hand while I wrapped my other against the door handle. I pressed the button. The whole car shook as the thing turned to the now closing door. In that second, I pushed the car door open as fast as I could and ran to the house door. I could feel the thing turn back to me, feel its eyes staring daggers into my back. I heard it shuffle, pry its talons loose from my car. I could hear the metal creaking under it as it prepared to pounce. SLAM!” Jed whacked the table again.

“I threw my door shut and a second later it slammed against it. Took all my strength to keep it shut. I locked it and stayed leaning on it for a while. The slams against the door got weaker. Tired itself out I think. Was able to grab a chair and stick it under the knob.”

“So you locked the thing in your garage,” I said. “Great. Then how’d you get around to killin’ it? I don’t see any bullet holes in it, no wounds or no-” I stopped mid sentence, realizing something. Jed grinned.

“Figured it out?” “You never turned your car off.” “Nope.” “And that worked?”

“Seems to have. Monster or not, it’s a living creature, same as us. Same kinda things should kill it. Just had to let the exhaust choke ‘em out. I grabbed my shotgun just in case and left my house through the front door. Didn’t get a lick of sleep that night. Just stood outside, watching the closed garage door, aiming my gun at it. Just in case…” Jed trailed off.

“That it?” I said.

“Just about. Cracked the big garage door open in the morning, waited a few for that toxic shit to clear. Truck was outta gas, buncha stuff got all messed up from havin’ it on all night. Nothin’ I couldn’t fix up though.” He looked up at the creature hanging on the wall. “Found it on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, limbs splayed out. Poked that thing with my gun. Checked for a pulse. Was cold as ice. Its limbs had started to stiff, and the blood in its body started to pool in the back. Signs of death I seen before.”

“And then you just nailed it to your barn wall for people to gawk at?” I asked. “No calling the police, nothing?”

“I sure as shit did.” replied Jed. “Figured I’d show it off. Figured I’d make a little money off it. Let the word spread. It’ll be like that pixie stuff from years back, you’ll see. Only this time, it’s real. When the news shows up, they’ll bring their scientists and study it. Tourists will show. Should be a good little bit of business for our small town, all thanks to ol’ Jed.” He smiled.

I shook my head and stood up. “Well, it’s a fun story, I’ll give you that, but I don’t know if your dummy here is gonna fool any scientists.” Jed scoffed. “And I’m not sure how many tourists something so monstrous lookin’ would bring in.”

“Ahh hell with you.” Jed swatted a hand at the air. “It’s popular enough already. Past two nights I had teenagers try to steal it. Or just get a closer look or somethin’, I don’t know. Them messin’ with the barn door wakes me up sometimes, the rattlin’ of the chains I use to lock it up. They stop when they hear me open the window though to yell at ‘em.”

I chuckled at him. “Well Jed, you have fun with your monster. I’m heading to Macky’s for food. Might suggest they add a Monster Burger to the menu, for all the tourists we’ll get from that ugly thing.”

_____

“You here again tonight?” I asked Jim, the bartender at Macky’s.

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Don’t you know, I have the EFD shift.”

“What’s that?”

“The Every Fucking Day shift.”

I chuckled. “Just get me a turkey club and whatever wheat you have on tap.”

“Sure thing, Jack. I’ll put the food in now.”

I glanced around the bar. Full as always, despite its dinginess. The indoor smoking areas and the late operating hours were probably two large reasons it remained so popular among the working men. Jim came back with my beer, placing it on a tiny coaster napkin.

“So,” he began, resting a hand on the bar counter. “You go by Jed’s yet? See this year’s creature?”

“Yeah, Jim, I did. Real freaky shit this year. How long you think it took him to make it?”

“No idea. Impressive craftsmanship, I’ll give him that, though.” Jim looked at me, a grin forming on his face. “You think it’s gonna go big? Like with the pixie shit? Could never sell my last five or so t-shirts from that boom.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, man…The mermaid, the pixie, hell, even the sasquatch. Those were all…safer? More marketable?” I struggled to find the word. “They aint as freaky as that thing on the wall. That was nasty looking. Too nasty looking. I don’t know if it’ll have the same appeal as a Mothman or something. Might need to wait a while longer for something to bring in that tourist boom.”

It was freaky. Too freaky. I didn’t like to admit it, but after seeing that thing and hearing Jed’s story…I knew it was fake. I knew it was all bullshit, just a small town prank meant for fun like the countless before it. But the details in that creature, the smaller details in the story…

“I told him to bury it.” A voice a few seats down interrupted. I looked over. Sitting a few seats to my left was Father Cunningham, the local pastor.

“Pardon, Father?” I replied.

“I told Jed to bury that thing. Or burn it. Or hell, just leave it out for its kin to collect. Might not be one of God’s creatures, but it was a living creature and deserves some respect in death, at least.”

“Father Cunningham, you believed that yarn Jed was spinning?” Jim had interrupted. He slid the plate with my food on it in front of me. “I mean, excuse my language,” he continued, “But that was all just bullshit, wasn’t it? Like all the other stuff he had before. I mean, come on. Monsters in our woods?”

The Father shook his head. “I know what I saw. I was one of the first to see the dead thing. It wasn’t made by him; it was a living creature. I know it.” Jim shook his head, and turned, moving on to conversations with other customers. Father Cunningham switched to me. “I told him to bury it,” he said, “No good comes from keeping that around and treating it like some attraction. He thinks there's just one? Most likely to be more; something had to birth it. Imagine how upset you’d be if someone killed your kid, Jack. And then imagine how you’d feel if the killer paraded the corpse around for entertainment. It’s just wrong.”

I was taken aback by this outburst from the Father. “You really do believe Jed’s story.” I said, amazed. It was all too crazy.

“I saw Jed’s creature before he hung it up. When I passed his house during my morning walk on Friday, I saw his garage was open so I went to let him know. As I got closer, I saw him inside with his shotgun. And I saw the thing. Jack, I went back today and saw it and I’m telling you it’s decomposing. The stomach’s become more bloated, the eyes have become glazed over, and the hint of cherry-red in its face has gone a full gray. Notes of the sewer-sweet smell of decay have begun to rise. Jed’s story was true; that thing was alive!”

I didn’t know what to say. The pastor had gone completely mad. Or Jed had put him up to it. Try to get more people convinced? It was far to go for a hoax, even for Jed. I muttered something about getting back to my food and turned to eat. I found myself, however, taking a different route home that night, one that avoided Howard’s Road. It would still take me past Jed’s place.

___

Something was wrong. I saw from the road that Jed’s barn door was wide open. As I got close, I noticed it was smashed in. Large, splintered chunks of wood were splayed out from the center of the left door and the right was missing the upper hinge. The lights were on in Jed’s house, and his front door was wide open. I continued on into the barn, standing inside of it for the second time that night. And I stared at the empty wall.

Jed had disappeared. Like he turned into smoke. Police weren’t able to find anything that night; only other thing missing was Jed’s shotgun. Nothing else was out of the ordinary. Leading theory that night was that a group of burglars had broken into the barn and taken Jed’s creature. They had also kidnapped Jed, perhaps using his own gun. No blood was found at the scene, so he had to have been taken somewhere.

He was found a couple days later. It was Boy Scouts out by the camping area near Howard’s Road who had found him. In a clearing was a disturbed patch of dirt in the middle of the grass, about 3 feet by 6 feet. Jed’s shotgun was shoved vertically into the disturbed dirt, and at the fulcrum lay a pile of gore. Unidentifiable meat that had been cooking in the sun for the past two days, putrefying. Impaled on the top of the shotgun was Jed’s head, tilting at an angle. The jaw was hang-swung open, his bloating, slug-like tongue lolled out. The eyes were glazed over, and the flesh on him was beginning to naturally slough off. No scavengers had touched his flesh, only natural decomposition.

The whole town had heard of it. Hell, half of us went to see it. Police closed off the area. Fenced it off. Hasn’t been officially open in months. But there are those of us in town that still go. They leave that gate unlocked; it’s for keeping out-of-towners out, mostly. We keep it open and we take our weekly pilgrimage to pay our respects. They never cleaned Jed up, they knew better than to do that.

The area wasn’t cleaned up for the same reason we went to see it every week; because we knew that the things in the woods were watching us. We didn’t pay respects to Jed, we paid our respects to whatever was buried in the grave Jed now acted as a headstone for. And we prayed it would be enough.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

As it is my birthday may I please request some writing of Elmer having a happy birthday? 🥺👉👈

Happy belated birthday!! I hope you had the best day and the best year to come!! 🎉❤️

“Elmer you gotta close your eyes.”

“Do I?”

“Unless you wanna ruin the surprise.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I hate surprises, like Finch does.”

JoJo sighed, deep and long suffering. “Okay. I ain’t sure that’s true though, So. Eyes closed.”

“Fine.” JoJo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone blink with as much force as Elmer did in that moment but he respected the way his face scrunched up as he closed his eyes and kept them that way. “But I ain’t gonna be happy about it.”

JoJo grinned now that Elmer couldn’t see him. “Trust me, you will be.”

He planted two hands on each shoulder and began to steer him toward the doorway of the bunkroom he’d been kicked out off earlier that morning under the guise of JoJo demanding that they go out for some lemonade.

Ten minutes ago, they’d run into Albert at the diner, and that meant that the decorating was done.

Meant that it was time to redirect Elmer back to the lodging house.

“JoJo?”

“Mhm?”

“It smells like cake.”

JoJo’s gaze landed on the cake that was definitely not sitting in the middle of the bunk room.

“No it doesn’t.”

“Maybe I’s just making things up.”

“Well.” JoJo said, and paused. “That brain a’ yours.”

“Exactly. It wishes it had cake.” He paused, and stood there silently for a moment, face scrunched up, eyes squinted shut. JoJo had to admit, maybe a little dumb looking.

“Hey Jo? Can I open my eyes now?”

JoJo leant up on his top toes to see over his shoulder and take in the crowd of newsies lined along the room in a semi circle, Albert in the far corner who waved at them. Each one grinning, and jostling each other to be quiet.

“Yeah.” JoJo said, “count to three and you can open your eyes.”

“You sure he can count that high?”

And Elmer didn’t count, his eyes snapped open, fully prepared to launch himself at whoever said that (and probably lose the ensuing fight) - but he stopped short as he took in the room.

It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, but they did their best with what they had. The lodging room was decked out with hand made bunting, all triangles of articles of old newspapers they never sold back and on a plate, on a stool, in the middle of the room sat a small, chocolate, cake, the top lathered in icing and the whole thing tilted vaguely to the left.

“You fellas?-“

It was like they practised it with how in sync it was, but the ‘happy birthday’ yelled back at him was loud and followed immediately by them all whooping and yelling, a couple of them coming up to Elmer and slapping him or shouldering him or ruffling his hair-

“Sarah made the cake.” Ultimately it was Jack’s voice that broke through the instant round of talking and cheering. “And we all kinda helped with the newspapers but that was mostly Buttons and Splasher.”

Elmer’s smile hurt his cheeks, and if his eyes were wet, they weren’t (JoJo wouldn’t mention it.) “Yous’ did all this for me?”

“Course’ we did!” It was Jack’s turn to reach and ruffle his hair. “Couldn’t let you turn 13 without a party.”

This time Elmer was successful as he launched himself forward, both arms wrapped solidly around Jack’s torso as he laughed and hugged him back just as tightly, swaying slightly.

“Happy birthday kid. You deserve it.”

Elmer’s next words were spoken into Jack’s shoulder but JoJo could just about make them out. “You guys are the best, y’know that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Shut up.”

Jack rolled his eyes something fond and soft in them and then met gazes with JoJo, and his mouth curled up again as he clapped his hand on Elmer’s shoulder pulling him back a little.

“You wanna go ask Kenny to cut the cake? I ain’t sure where he got the knife but I just ain’t thinking ‘bout it too hard. And then a coupla the boys has got presents for after.”

Elmer’s eyes were circles. “For me?”

“You see it bein’ anyone else’s birthday.”

Elmer grinned at Jack before he turned round to grin at JoJo and grabbed his shoulder shaking him a little as he led him of toward Kenny, being pulled into a multitude of hugs and headlocks along the way.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #563

Top Ten Moments in The Transformers’ Lost Light Saga

I’ve written about Transformers a lot on here. I’d be surprised if it wasn’t the single thing I’d written blogs about the most (followed by the MCU and then, I dunno, probably Hey Duggee). It’s the biggest “thing” in my life – the media franchise I enjoy and engage with the most. And I’ve definitely ranked favourite moments before. But I wanted to return to it – yet again – for a couple of reasons.

2012 marks the ten-year anniversary of my favourite run of Transformers, across its entire nearly-forty-year history: the comics More Than Meets the Eye and Lost Light. These comics, written by James Roberts in collaboration with several artists (but predominantly Alex Milne and Jack Lawrence), tell one epic tale of friendship, tragedy, comedy, political discourse, allegory, and references to obscure British pop culture. As it happens, I’ve re-read the entire series whilst on tour with the BBC, so it’s all fresh in my mind; also another reason to revisit it in a list.

There’s another, kinda serendipitous reason to look back over IDW’s time with Transformers. This week just gone, the last ever Transformers book published by IDW was released. It is, I think, sixteen years since they first had the licence, and the breadth of great comics they’ve produced – from the first Infiltration series by Simon Furman and EJ Su to the most recent continuity written by Brian Ruckley, by way of MTMTE, Robots in Disguise, Furman and Andrew Wildman continuing their nineties G1 run in Regeneration One, and the recent sort-of-not-in-continuity Last Bot Standing by Nick Roche and – him again – EJ Su – is remarkable. It’s a hell of a run, the best the franchise has ever been handled by one company. No film, no animated series, no other published comics come close for me. How the merry hell do they follow this?

For the first time, though, I’m singling out one specific arc – the Lost Light Saga, for want of a better title (I would also consider “Sad Gay Robots in Space”) – and just picking the best bits. I’m also doing deep on why they’re the best. And I’m going to try to say where you can find this great bit of a great comic!

This is a celebration. I want that to come through. I hope that when all is said and done – and this might end up being my last word on the Lost Light – that the myriad reasons why I adore this series is evident. The nuance of the writing, the fidelity of the artwork, the breadth of the allusion, the comedy, pathos, empathy, sadness, love. It’s a masterful piece of work that had me tearing up multiple times, sometimes over bits that I didn’t remember or that just didn’t hit me first time round.

Also, y’know, spoilers. I’ll put a break in. But if you do want to enjoy the saga in its entirety, maybe don’t read this list. Buy the paperbacks, get it on Kindle, scour your local comic shop for back issues. And then maybe you’ll join me in wishing happy birthday to the greatest iteration of my favourite franchise.

And I really want to emphasise that. Transformers really is my thing. it was the first cartoon and comic I fell in love with. It’s remained more important to me than, say, Star Wars or the MCU, or other childhood loves like Ghostbusters, Turtles, and even my beloved orange meatball with stripes, Garfield. Transformers is really the only thing I can see myself going to conventions for on the reg, a thing that just speaks to me, that I get unequivocally nerdy about. I wouldn’t say it’s like a religion but it probably occupies the same irreducible part of my soul that, like all the cultural bits of Catholicism, will never leave me, no matter what. And all of that – the length and breadth of it, the joys and sorrows, the heart and soul – my favourite bit of Transformers are these comics. I think I’ve said it before, but they achieved something.

“Don’t change back”: the arc of Megatron becoming an Autobot was one of those it’ll-never-work things that did work, and it worked so damn well. It became an examination of corruption and ideology and self-determinism and, well, the nature of tyranny, but also guilt and acceptance. Megatron, now a determined pacifist, is compelled back to violence to defend his new friends, but in doing so slaps a Decepticon badge over his Autobot one. When the dying Ravage – always sceptical and disapproving of his former boss’s change to the red team – notices, he reaches his hand out to touch the badge and says “don’t change back”. Back to what? Back to being an Autobot? Or back to being a Decepticon? These were his last words, and we’ll never know what they mean. And I really need to underline, Ravage is one of my favourite characters, and this is how he died. It just helps to underline the massive schism in Megatron’s psyche, his own continued self-doubt, the betrayal his former friends now feel, and – yes – his continued guilt. Quite how this ridiculous plot thread, imposed upon the writer by the publisher, turned into the cornerstone and most compelling element of the entire run is just exceptional writing and character work.

“Even Team Whirl”: this is two-fold because it’s a great moment and a call-back. The first time we see Whirl he’s about to kill himself. He’s filled with self-loathing because he’s been abused and mistreated, he’s a violent loner who’s alienated all his friends, and because he might have started the war in the first place. He’s a horrible person who we don’t really like but very slowly we grow to love him as he opens up. And then when Rodimus gives to inspire everyone he includes Whirl – “even Team Whirl” he says – and Whirl does seem to notice. Then, at the very end, Whirl has enough self-belief in his own latent goodness that he can open the Matrix, saying to himself “Even… Team… Whirl…”. So it’s partly the story of Whirl’s redemption and how he learns to believe in himself, and also a story about how Rodimus is just a cool guy and super-inspiring.

“Goodnight, little one”: after Getaway grooms and gaslights Tailgate, he outlines the four steps a Transformer takes to codify their relationship (basically, wedding vows). Tailgate is rescued by Cyclonus, but as they’re pinned down by security forces, we see the four steps play out again: actions that Cyclonus has taken over the years – instinctively, selflessly, without thinking – that prove how much he’s always loved Tailgate. It’s a heartbreaking encapsulation of their relationship when Tailgate realises all of this, realises Cyclonus is the right one after all. Then Cyclonus is shot to pieces.

“Megatron was able to open it when you couldn’t…”: might need a bit of explaining this, but the whole saga ends with the team opening multiple Matrixes (Matrices?) at the same time. Except they only open if you feel like you deserve to open them, that you’re good enough. Throughout, Rodimus has been an egocentric do-gooder who wants everyone to think he’s ace; that he’s a true Prime, essentially. He opens his Matrix effortlessly. But later he tells a court that he couldn’t open it, but Megatron could; he lies to the universe to try to get them to pardon the guy who started the war and once tried to kill him. This evolution of their relationship and his own personality is so beautifully sad and, ultimately, heroic. Like a true Prime.

“I love you”: why are so many of these sad? Despite what I said about Tailgate and Cyclonus, the defining relationship of the series is Chromedome and Rewind. One can read people’s minds by injecting their skulls; the other is constantly recording everything and saving the footage to a vast database. When Rewind dies, Chromedome wants to remove the memories of his dead love from his own mind; but a recording by Rewind, spliced together from dozens of different videos, leaves him a beautiful but tragic message from beyond the grave, culminating in three very simple words. Chromedome decides not to wipe his own mind.

“Remember me as I was”: one of the best long-running arcs in the series was the frequent flashbacks to old Cybertron (we’ll see more of this later). The mysterious, unnamed senator who befriended Orion Pax – with his vibrant, ever-changing colour scheme and propensity for emotional outbursts – is a mysterious and slightly sinister character. What’s his game? Is he grooming Orion? And then as the real sinister villains take over, the scale of the senator’s punishment is horrific and severe and we discover that his face, hands, and entire personality has been irrevocably altered, and he was in fact the cold, emotionless, logical Shockwave, one of the most notorious Decepticons. It’s a terrific origin for a popular character, suitably shocking and unexpected; a great twist.

“We’re going to steal the Matrix”: still back in the past for this, another classic cliffhanger ending. After establishing Orion Pax as the supercop who can’t be stopped, we have a number of plot threads converge as the scale of the evil Cybertronian Senate and the sinister, fascistic Functionists becomes apparent. Knowing what must be done, Orion hatches a simple but impossible plan: steal the Matrix. It turns a flashback mystery-cum-character piece into, all of a sudden, a Cybertronian heist movie; Orion’s Eleven. And it is, of course, excellent.

“It happened off-panel”: it’s a funny book, this, and sometimes you just need a good gag. I was tempted to include the Holiday Special and its “Contrivance Engine”, but really my favourite of the Red Dwarf-style silly sci-fi gags is the Meta-Bomb – “it blows a hole in the fourth wall”. Swerve – comic relief with a tragic backstory – presses it and instantly becomes a sort of metafictional narrator, semi-outside of the narrative, not quite Deadpool but a step removed. The fact that this gag, making use of and fun of the comics medium, is great in and of itself is one thing; but it also sets up further developments down the road. And that’s the funny thing about comedy; the banter and the gags makes you fall in love with the characters, so when a writer twists the knife it hurts that much more.

“Tell Whirl he can have my hands”: Ratchet is a grumpy doc with a heart of gold, but it’s the grumpiness that comes to the fore more often. His Spock/McCoy banter with Drift is a solid part of the story’s early years, and one would be forgiven for thinking Ratchet was a hard, flinty sort. But when the chips are down – faced with a rampaging Overlord and certain death – he doesn’t flinch for a second, defending the needy and immediately barking orders, bestowing favours and generosity. Whirl’s loss of hands and the abuse that loss signifies is a great weight on his soul, and instantly Ratchet offers to alleviate that. It’s so fast, so instant a thought, that its generosity takes me by surprise.

“It’s not funny at all. It’s tragic”: we end where we began, with Megatron’s redemption, and once again with a fashback narrative – here Megatron talking via a sort of time travel phone with not-Optimus-yet Orion Pax. Pax, assuming he’s talking to the Megatron of his own time, is a big fan of his future foe, wants to get him to join the fight; Megatron, speaking from the future, drops a couple of cryptic references to their eventual animosity. There are shades of Macbeth or Milton’s Satan when he says he couldn’t turn back now even if he wanted to, but he acknowledges he will join Pax “eventually”. Tragic doesn’t cover it.

There we are then. I don’t know what else to say. I’m sad it’s over but I’m happy it happened. We achieved something. Oh boy.

[ejistryingtowrite]

meet Maeve

an excerpt from chapter one of my current wip, introducing one of the main characters

“I’m looking for someone. A boy, a man really. Half a foot taller than me, brown hair, probably stubble, real charmer. He might work in the area or live somewhere here, I don’t know.” She took a sip of the cider and swallowed. It was too vinegary and left a sour aftertaste, but what else could she have expected from this sort of establishment. “Work at the steelworks you mean?,” the barmaid enquired. “There could be about a thousand lads fitting that description.” “He’s eighteen, pretty thin, frizzy hair, green eyes, come on, nobody comes to mind?” The girl behind the bar shook her head. “Sorry, love. Maybe if he’d asked about you... But no, no such lad’s been round here looking for you. What’s he, a boyfriend of yours?” Maeve resisted rolling her eyes. “Brother. He’s the only family I have left.” The barmaid nodded sympathetically. “I see. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, in case he shows up.” “Thanks, I’ll be back or...” She hesitated. “You can find me at the Riordan, if he does.” The girl patted Maeve’s hand, a gesture of compassion or friendliness, or maybe something else, it was impossible to tell. “What’s your name? Have to know if I need to forward a message.” Before she could give her any answer, a booming voice behind her provided it instead. “MAEVE O’SHEA, YOU FUCKING CUNT!” She whipped around, spilling her cider and letting the barmaid’s hand fall from her own. There was a towering figure with a shaggy beard standing near the door, a figure she immediately recognised as the man she’d shaved ten pounds off last month, claiming to have a way to invest it in the steel business with a fourfold profit. “Hiya, Jack, right?,” she said, shaping her mouth into an innocent smile. “Was gonna get back to you soon.” At that, Jack charged towards her, just as she threw the half-full bottle at him and ducked to the edge of the bar, from where the barmaid pulled her to the back of the pub. It took Maeve a second to realise what was happening, as the girl was pushing her across a dank basement and out of a back door, into a dark alley.

[uwu-twistedthorn-uwu]

Alright, it's time for the anniversary showcase! I don't plan on pulling enough to get one of the special keys, but since it turns out I won't actually need the single keys I've been hoarding to hit pity in Azul's birthday showcase, I figured I might as well have some fun chucking them in this one.

There won't be any new cards unless I get an SSR (since I got the last SR I needed with the anniversary bundle), I don't have enough single keys for pity, and I don't even have a specific card I'm hoping for, so this should be fairly low key compared to my previous liveblogs.

First summon is an R card, as is inevitable. I'm going to skip over most of these because otherwise it'll get super tedious. But for once I'm actually grateful for all the R perfume, because once the second round of birthdays start I'll need a whole bunch to get both the new backgrounds and the ones I missed.

And 5 R cards later I get the first SR of the day.

Luckily the wait for the second one is no where near as tedious, with only one PE Silver in between.

Another R card later, Lab Lilia shows up again?

Another 5 R cards, and another Diasomnia boy in a lab coat .

Ceremonial Idia shows up and brings back "fond" memories of pulling for his Suitor Suit. Also I'm no longer mentioning how many R cards are between, because any time it's more than one I have to stop and do math. I'll tally them up at the end or something.

My key supply is down to single digits and Azul shows up immediately after, no R cards in between. *starts smacking him and Idia against each other while going "now kiss"*

And it's Cay Cay! Side note, I've been getting a ridiculous amount of Archetype Orthos, including two in a row just before Cater showed up.

Three R cards later, my single key stash is depleted. But since we're so close to pity, fuck it let's do a couple ten pulls. I'm not going to go all the way to pity today, because the remaining 4 needed can be done by single keys that I'll earn via the event.

And it's Cay Cay! Again!

Ruggie! (I'm sorry it turns out I don't really have anything to say when it's just miscellaneous summons with no goal in sight, but it's too late to stop now)

Hooray we got an SSR!

And boo, it's Leona (sorry if you're a Leona stan, but fuck Leona)

One more ten pull and then we're actually stopping for real this time.

What the fuck Malleus! I literally just got you this morning with the key from the bronze bundle, and now you decide to show up?

AAAAAAAA

Holy fucking shit, my boy came home like two seconds after his housewarden. I now have every single Savanaclaw dorm card (I got Jack back when I was pulling for Halloween Silver).

And that's it for now. When I do hit pity (or on the crazy chance that another SSR shows up before then, I'll probably reblog this post to add whatever I get.

Oh shit I said I was going to add up all the R cards at the end, didn't I? There were 36, bringing my R perfume stash up to 47.

[time-like-tears-in-rain]

WIP Round-Up....

Mostly Doctor/Rose, some nonsense too..

1. Fourteen/Rose Reunion fic: this goes along with some AU/headcanon stuff I have regarding Tentoo (.....humans cannot survive a metacrisis???), but mostly it's just using the fact that Fourteen is SO emotionally open and affectionate compared to Ten. Also I Miss My Fucking Closet of a Room in London So Much, most of this story takes place in locations I've been. They probably don't look the same/may not even be there anymore.

2. Nine/Rose sleep-telepathy: its explicit but also surreal and kinda weird, probably too weird to really be sexy? Nine has no memory of how he got here, Rose under him, unsure if they're in the Tardis or a hotel or a house or someplace else, not really caring...until it's clear that this isn't exactly real, but someone's dreams, thoughts, but neither are quite sure whose.

3. "Fix-It" for Doomsday: Rose stays in the prime universe, but I hesitate to call this a fix-it. She's just given up a chance to live with her family, lost her mother and her best friend, nearly died because she meant it when she said 'forever.' Now the Doctor copes (badly) with the fact that (as he sees it) he's ruined Rose's life, and worse, risked it. Rose comes to terms with the fact that she just gave up nearly everything to continue living with a man whose reaction to that sacrifice was to shout at her--that maybe she isn't as strong as she likes to think, maybe she's sixteen and dropping out of school for a boy again.

4. Kind of an addition to the above fic, Jack is the one that pulls Rose back from the void: Having lived through the next three years AND Time Lord Victorious and realizing that this was the moment when it all went to hell. Corners the Doctor and tells him that he loves him, he's a good man, at least he likes to think so but do not ever ask him or Martha to go through everything he did to them again. [This does NOT take Martha out of the narrative, I love her, Jack loves her, she'll be around still]. Also

"You had no right to do this." "Eighty-seven, Doc." "What?" "That's how many times I died trying to get your girl back, but honestly? I prefer to think that's how many times I've died for Rose, and I'd gladly do it again. And one more thing? She deserves better too. If you fuck this up, I'm collecting her, and you're never seeing either of us again. This is your last chance."

5. A conversation between Jackie and Ten where she asks him to look out for Rose, and Ten doesn't tell her the truth, but talks around it, to Jackie's joy and horror, she realizes he's in love with her daughter. Ten confesses that Nine made the man he is today for Rose.

6. In some vague AU where they had five (5) minutes to reconnect, Donna is having breakfast with the Doctor in the Tardis and teasing him about how he and Rose vanished the night before for, oh, fifteen hours, when she shows up in pajama pants and one of his vests. She adores this new girl and loves how happy the Doctor looks, but Rose lets it slip that she thinks she missed her 20th birthday and Donna promptly loses it that her 900 year old best friend who looks 33 decided his soulmate is 19. Mostly funny, but Donna has a point.

7. Not technically started yet, but by request, Rose meeting the Master in series three, and facing his petty remarks--sure he had mildly less atrocious things to say about her in front of Martha in canon, but that was to hurt Martha and the Doctor, surely if she was present, he would read the room and tear into her too.

[melissahausen]

Predictions for forbidden door.

As always this is who I think will win not necessarily who I want to win.

Athena vs. Billie Starkz Women's Owen Hart Cup Tournament first round match: Athena.

United Empire Jeff Cobb, Kyle Fletcher, and TJP vs. Los Ingobernables de Japon Shingo Takagi, Bushi, and Hiromu Takahashi, Six-man tag team match: UE.

Stu Grayson with The Righteous Vincent and Dutch vs. El Phantasmo: ELP but I'm not 100% sure on this one.

Mogul Embassy, Swerve Strickland, Toa Liona, and Bishop Kaun (with Prince Nana vs. Roppongi Vice Rocky Romero and Trent Beretta and El Desperado

Six-man tag team match:

Probably mogul embassy but I want RV to win cause Trent 😍.

Kenny Omega vs. Will Ospreay Singles match for the IWGP United States Heavyweight Championship:

Listen ill never go against my gorgeous Canadian boy but cause its for the title I honestly think it's gonna be Will but I'm still gonna say Kenny cause they in Canada but I'll not be surprised if osprey wins.

Bryan Danielson vs. Kazuchika Okada Singles match.

The dream match for a lot of people (not me soz) and I genuinely don't know which way they're gonna go, I'll say Bryan but its not a confident guess lol.

Sanada vs. "Jungle Boy" Jack Perry (with Hook), singles match for the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship.

Sanada cause they're clearly not gonna give Jack a title yet lol.

MJF vs. Hiroshi Tanahashi, Singles match for the AEW World Championship:

If it wasn't the title on the line I'd have said Tana but Max gonna win cause the title won't be given to a star that isn't AEW talent.

Le Suzuki Gods Chris Jericho, Sammy Guevara, and Minoru Suzuki vs. Sting, Darby Allin, and Tetsuya Naito Six-man tag team match:

STIIIIIIING,Darby and Naito.

Blackpool Combat Club ,Jon Moxley, Wheeler Yuta, and Claudio Castagnoli , Konosuke Takeshita, and Shota Umino vs. The Elite Hangman Adam Page, Matt Jackson, and Nick Jackson, Eddie Kingston, and Tomohiro Ishii Ten-man tag team match

Now this match god this match , depending on where on the card it is a few things could happen.

Is Kenny gonna get involved?, is Will gonna get involved?, is Bryan gonna get involved?, Is Kenny's true love gonna FINALLY show up?

Now we all know Eddie is gonna turn on the elite cause its Eddie but is that gonna be because the elite lose? Honestly I've no idea I just know shenanigans are DEFINITELY gonna ensue.

But I'm going BCC again cause I don't think the elite are winning against them until London baby:)

CM Punk vs. Satoshi Kojima Men's Owen Hart Cup Tournament first round match: ughh he's gonna win this whole fuxking thing isn't he?

Orange Cassidy vs. Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Katsuyori Shibata vs. Daniel Garcia Four-way match for the AEW International Championship:

OC or Daniel honestly I'd love to see Danny with a belt.

Toni Storm vs. Willow Nightingale, Singles match for the AEW Women's World Championship: Toni cause I assume the outcasts are gonna get involved and help her win. Also I'm so over the outcasts done with this whole gimmick it's just shite.

Adam Cole vs. Tom Lawlor Singles match: Cole cause they're pushing him to the moon right now.

[tiqalicious]

Interview with Jack McCallum - Officer A. Hayes presiding.

JM: "I don't understand why I'm still being held here."

AH: "We still have a lot of questions Jack, we're just trying to make things a little more clear."

JM: "I didn't do it."

AH: "We know that Jack, but if you'll just take some time to describe it again for us, it could really help us out."

JM: "I've already told the lot of ye, he was dead when I found him."

AH: "On your farm, you said?"

JM: "Aye. T'was my neighbour's boy, little Rory. She brought him over once when he was nuttin but a wean, and you should have seen the smile on his face. His mam said t'was the first smile he ever cracked and I think it gave me a soft spot for em, cause by the time he hit ten, I'd let him come over every single day, carrying his little jotter and scribblin away like a mad thing at everything he saw."

AH: "He came over every day?"

JM: "Oh aye. Shannon didn't have a lot of money to throw around, see? So I was always fixing him lunches and letting him hang around. He was a good wee lad, spent all day out and about, and never really got into trouble save for falling in the water. I saw him running to the house once like he was feart for his life, chased away by a pine marten, convinced the thing was goin ta kill em. Best craic I've ever seen, that. Laughed till I was in tears."

Officers notes: Jack went quiet for a few moments here, only staring at the table. He hasn't looked me in the eyes since we started speaking, but I find it hard to believe he's hiding anything from me. He really looks as if he lost one of his own.

AH: "I'm not really s'posed to do this now, but you look like you could use a fag. Have one of mine."

JM: "Appreciate it. I uh… I told him not to go over to that grove, you know."

AH: "The trees where you found him?"

JM: "Aye. I'll tell ye now, there's always been sumtin quare hanging around that spot over the bridge. The animals avoided it like the fuckin plague. The dogs would get their hackles up any time ye went too close, the sheep would run away from it like the devil himself was at their heels, and the horses, well they wouldn't even take a single step upon that bridge. Me nan told me once when I was wee that horses know sumtin we don't. She said their eyes are open to the entire world afore them, and the rest of us are all just sleepwalking through it. I've learned to never doubt the judgement of me horses, but… I should have just took a hammer to that fuckin bridge. T'is my fault he's gone."

AH: "We'll find whoever did this."

JM: "No ye fuckin won't."

AH: "I promise ye now Ja-"

Officers notes: Jack became enraged at this moment, and it took a while to calm him down, but I was able to de-escalate without any need for restraint.

JM: "Ye still don't fuckin get it, do ye?. It don't want to be bloody found! There's something foul in there that should have been left alone, and I was too fuckin stupid to make sure it stayed that way! It took his fuckin eyes, Aidan! It plucked them right from his skull and left him out there to die an he was probably too busy chasing after a fuckin butterfly, to even see it coming! I DID THIS! I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT AND NOW HE'S FUCKIN GONE!"

AH: "Jackie…"

JM: "Don't you give me another fuckin word. Ye can't make this better and ye won't find who did it, so just fuckin don't. You lot aren't equipped to deal with any of this sort of thing."

AH: "Ye don't have to worry about that now, Jack. We've already brought in some specialists."

JM: "What?"

AH: "Some big important crew brought all the way over from London. They're at yer place now, lookin over the grove. They're the ones who asked me to talk to ye again."

JM: "It don't fucking matter, because THEY WON'T BELIEVE ME!"

AH: "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jack."

JM: "What are ye on about?"

AH: "Never mind. Shouldn't have said anything. I'll be round yer way tonight to check in on Shannon. I'll come see ye after, eh?"

JM: "I don't ne-"

AH: "I said I'll come see ye after, make sure yer doing okay, right?"

JM: "Ah…. right then."

AH: "Okay, well I think we've got everything we need here, so yer free to go. Just keep away from the grove while that lot do there work, eh?"

JM: "Fine."

Initial autopsy report performed by H. Duffy, Coroner: Deceased male, 12. Eyes and tongue removed despite no signs of struggle. No entry wounds on body, yet subject is missing all major organs. Three ribs completely missing with no medical history of removal. Baffling absence of blood on scene or signs of trauma, perhaps sign of as yet untraceable chemical agent? No clear answers. Body sent to London for further investigation.

"So…. Thoughts?"

"Sounds like a rushed job."

"Indeed. I would wager that someone was interrupted."

"Aye. Farmer probably went looking and got too close to the scene. That child was supposed to disappear."

"So why not simply take the farmer as well?"

"Too much attention. Probably an entry point."

"Quite likely one of hundreds, honestly"

"The specialists…"

"Hunters, my dear boy. If nothing else, at least this little misstep is an opportunity to confirm some suspicions. Someone high up the ladder is running a branch out of london."

"I'll make sure our lot know to avoid the area for a few weeks."

"I'm afraid that's not entirely possible, quite yet. You heard the recording. The officer suspects something. The farmer knows, as those infuriating salt of the earth types so often do, but the officer… we need to tamp this down. Take these press certifications and see to it that the both of them receive a little guidance. Nothing grizzly, just send someone to make them think a little… differently. No need to stoke the flames any further."

"Of course, Cinnidh."