#jared nightingale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 2 years ago

Text

Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Word Count: 5279

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing! Author's Additional Notes: This is it. The last chapter. The Conclusion to my story! (There will be an epilogue to follow) I started this over a year and a half ago, and here we are, finished!! There were plenty of times I wondered if I'd ever get there. But with the steadfast encouragement of all of you, I found the inspiration and the drive. Thank all of you who read this and showered me with love. I am forever grateful!

Masterlist

Nightingale Masterlist

Jensen checked his watch again while he tapped his fingers against his leg trying to rid himself of the anxious energy. You’d been in the restroom for fifteen minutes and while women tended to take longer in the bathroom, it was unusual for you. Other girls had come and gone in that time, and he was beginning to worry. Deciding to hell with it, he knocked loudly to announce himself and entered.

“Y/N? Sweetheart? The play is starting…”

The room was empty and something about the eerie silence sent an ominous chill down his spine. Not a trace of you anywhere, as if you’d evaporated into thin air! Desperate, he pushed open the stall doors and last one revealed a woman crumpled against the wall. He recognized the scuffed sneakers as your favorites and the denim jacket with the frayed sleeves. And the fall of golden hair.

Frantic, he dropped to his knees, “Y/N! Baby?!”

He grabbed hold of your shoulder and pulled. Your head rolled back and revealed a deeply slit throat and a stranger’s face.

Dead. He could tell it at a glance, but it wasn’t you! The poor soul had been dressed in your clothes and a very convincing blonde wig.

“Shit!” Jensen scrambled to his feet and burst out of the room. He frantically searched the crowd of people while dialing his emergency number.

“Solomon.”

“She’s gone! She’s gone, you son of a bitch! You said she was safe!”

“We show Y/N in the ladies’ room on the east end of the pavilion.”

“Her clothes are there along with a fucking dead body! He’s got her! Fuck!”

“Stay where you are,” the agent barked through the phone while people shuffled in the background.

He took off at a jog, trying to scan the faces for yours, “Like hell I will!”

“That’s an order, Ackles! I need details, not another missing person. I have agents converging on your location.”

Jensen ended the call and tried your number. It rang several times then went to voicemail. “Sweetheart, if you get this, just hang on. I’m coming. I swear to God… I’m coming to get you.”

Consciousness came to you in fragments. Different parts of your body were numb. There was a pins and needles feeling that came with having been in one position for too long. Your eyes felt dry and raw, although you hadn’t opened them yet. Your throat felt the same and there was a really unpleasant smell coming from somewhere. An artificial and over-powering cherry scent mixed with sour sweat. Suddenly, your whole frame was jolted, and the side of your head connected with something cold and hard. It was enough to pull you out of the semi-conscious daze you’d been in, your eyes popped open as your head bounced off the passenger side window.

You sat more upright with a groan and rubbed your head, “What…?”

This wasn’t Jensen’s car. The dashboard was faded blue and cracked from the sun. An ancient radio with silver knobs played an old song from the sixties. The cardboard cherry air freshener swinging from the rearview was at least partly to blame for the oppressive stench. The man in the driver’s seat was to blame for the rest.

“Pharmaceuticals have come such a long way, haven’t they? That little trip was courtesy of a new and very effective benzodiazepine. Administered through absorption through the skin. Remarkable. It’s hung up in clinical trials, but those of us with connections can still have our fun.”

Your gaze slid to the man behind the wheel and your stomach knotted. Now that he had his glasses on and his hair was brushed back from his face, he looked much like he did back in New York. Large, hawk-like nose. Sharp cheekbones, eyebrows like dark slashes over nearly black eyes.

“Of course, the best part is that although you looked like a drunk sorority girl, you were still wide awake inside,” his lips pulled into a disturbing grin. “Hate for you to miss out.”

He was right. You’d been awake while he and that girl stripped you naked and dressed you in her clothes. You’d been useless to fight them as they pulled a wig down on your head. You were trapped in your own body, only able to witness the horror has he killed her right in front of you. In your mind, you screamed while he seamlessly ushered you past Jensen and into the crowd. Right under the noses of the undercover agents who were meant to protect you.

You forced your mind to focus. Agent Solomon had gone over countless scenarios with you, and this was one of them. You quickly took inventory and noted that every scrap of clothing had been removed or replaced. Your tracking monitor, your cell phone, your pepper spray and pocketknife. Anything that might have been useful was long gone.

Except the blue paisley tie Jensen wrapped around your wrist. You could still feel the cool silk against your skin. Your tether to him and a reminder that you still had access to one thing that might help you. The fourth wall. The stage was set, and this was just another part to play. If you gave a convincing enough performance, you might just come out of this alive.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked as you pulled the frayed seatbelt over your shoulder and secured it.

“Tsk, Tsk! Telling would ruin the surprise, and you know how much I love a good surprise.”

You scanned the scenery whizzing past and found it unfamiliar. A two-lane road cut through thick woodland as the sun began to set. No signs other than the occasional mile marker and warnings about rockslides. Your ears popped, confirming you were headed to higher elevation and farther away from civilization.

Show time.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” You ripped the auburn-colored wig from your head and tossed it to the floor.

“Do you want me to?” he returned, patting the handgun in his lap.

Panic tried to rise like bile in your throat. You pushed it down and snatched the half full pack of cigarettes from the dash.

“What I want is to wake up safe at home with a beer and left-over pizza in the fridge, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“Beer and pizza,” Arthur repeated with a scoff. “Sophistication never was your strong suit, Y/N. One of Colin’s many grievances about you.”

“What I lacked in sophistication, I made up for in eagerness.” You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “I certainly never heard any complaints about that.”

“Slut. Useless whore. No wonder you shacked up with a Hollywood scumbag like Ackles. You probably fuck him for a weekly allowance.” His fingers tightened around the wheel as he spoke, “Colin deserved so much better than you.”

“Someone like you, I suppose.” You barked out a laugh as Green turned red from the neck up, “Jesus, you’re not still carrying a torch for a dead man, are you? That’s pathetic, Artie. It really is. You know he just kept you around out of pity. Poor little Artie from the block…”

He backhanded you right across the mouth. Your lip split and you tasted blood.

“Shut up! Just shut your whore mouth!” He grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the window, making you groan and slump in your seat. Your vison went hazy, but you kept conscious.

“You conniving bitch… you had to go to the feds! If it wasn’t for that I’d have killed you quick and been done with it. One last loose end… but not now. Now, I get creative. I’ll start with your little boy toy; carve his pretty face up so not even his own mother will recognize him. Your bestie with those cute kids? I’ll strangle her to death while they watch.”

You didn’t say anything, waiting him out as he raged on, “Oh! But what about your baby sister? Frankie. Well, let’s just say she’ll wish she’d died in that car wreck by the time I get through with her.”

With Arthur’s rage distracting him, you saw your opening and you took it. The cigarette was still clenched in your fist. Your hand shot out and you crushed the glowing cherry into his face. It sizzled and he screamed.

He howled in pain, and you grabbed the wheel, yanking it with all your might! The two of you fought for control and sent the truck into a spin. The back end fishtailed, and the tires squealed. The world went topsy turvy around you as the truck went careening off the road with a deafening crash. Then, silence.

“Black SUV, headed east on Market. That’s the last we see of it until it popped up abandoned in the Whole Foods parking lot.”

“We got the video from them?”

“Nada. Their surveillance system went down last week.”

“Safe bet that was our perp. Get the last recordings they have in the database, let’s see if Green shows his face.”

“SUV registered to Mrs. Barbara Perkins, deceased.”

“Naturally. Get a trace on that name, address, bank accounts, the works.”

Jensen had never felt more useless in his life. While the FBI agents bustled around their make-shift headquarters, he was sitting in an office chair. Waiting. There was literally nothing else he could do. They already knew what Green looked like, even disguised as a fangirl. The pics of Jensen signing autographs went live on social media almost instantaneously. There were all sorts of video surveillance of him walking around the park and walking a stumbling girl through the parking lot. It was as if he was showing off. Flaunting his deeds to the authorities who were oblivious to it all.

Jensen felt sick at the thought of how close you were. Green had walked you right by him and he didn’t even know it! His mind kept going to the dead woman wearing your clothes. Blood everywhere. Running like a river from her slit throat. It could have so easily been you. It still could, and that thought chilled him to the bone.

The video was good for one thing though, it confirmed that you had been very much alive when you left with him. Jensen was holding on to that fact like a lifeline! You were smart and you were a fighter. You’d come back, you had to. He had a whole life planned out and every day of it included you. Marriage. Children. Big family Christmases. Quiet date nights. He even planned a proposal in Paris. You told him you always wanted to go and making your dreams come true had become an obsession for him. Nothing made him happy like making you happy. His life wasn’t his own, it was forever intertwined with yours.

In the immortal words of his alter-ego, “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”

When his phone rang, his heart nearly stopped. He didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was you. “Y/N?!”

“Jensen! Oh God…!”

Agent Solomon was on him instantly to hand the phone over, he refused. But he did put it on speaker. “Sweetheart, where are you? Are you okay?!”

The connection was tenuous, making your voice fade in and out.

“I’m okay… not… don’t know…. Arthur crashed…”

“Crashed?! What happened?”

Solomon grabbed the phone, “Doctor West, are you with Green right now?”

“No. We crashed…. Left…”

“Was he alive when you saw him last?”

“…. Unconscious… don’t…. “

“What kind of vehicle was he driving?”

“Blue pickup… Dairyland.”

“Dairyland?” Jensen repeated.

“AJ… 677.”

“Wisconsin plates,” Solomon signaled to his agents to run a search. Even fragmented information would pull up something.

“Doctor West, do you know where you are?”

“Highway. I don’t… mountains. Jay! Its… otter… Kimmy…”

The agent locked eyes with Jensen, “What is she talking about?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “Kimmy who?”

“Kim… makeup… otter tattoo.”

It clicked for him then. The makeup artist who designed her own tattoos, Kimmy. She’d been quite taken with Y/N when she went to the set that day.

“It’s Mount Harvey, the snow melt on the south face looks like an otter playing baseball.”

“Good. Doctor West, we’re coming to you.”

If she heard, she didn’t reply. The phone screen showed the call dropped. Solomon handed the phone to one of his team to pull trace information while he barked orders. The well-oiled team shifted into their roles. Dispatch communicated with local authorities on every level. One of the advantages of working with the FBI, they were practiced in the art of the manhunt. It wasn’t a question of if they would get Green, but when. And would it be in time?

“Ackles, you’re with me.”

Jensen looked up in time to catch a bulletproof vest with FBI printed across the chest.

“I don’t have civilians on my tactical team as a rule,” Solomon informed him, zipping up his own vest. “But you know Y/N better than anyone, I need your insight. Let’s move.”

You weren’t sure how far you’d gotten or how long you’d been walking. It seemed like forever. That ancient truck Arthur had been driving actually turned out to be a blessing. The frame was good, old fashioned American steel and took the brunt of the crash without much damage. The seatbelt did its job and prevented you from being thrown through the windshield. Although, it dug into you with enough force that you likely had a broken clavicle and possibly a dislocated shoulder. It throbbed like a son of a bitch, but you still made out better than Green.

He was going over sixty miles per hour when he crashed, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. He was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from a deep gash on his scalp and covered in broken glass from the shattered windshield. The doctor in you wanted to check for a pulse, but your visual assessment would have to do. He was breathing, and that was enough. You knew time wasn’t on your side, you needed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

You made a quick search of his pockets and found both a phone and a handgun. The passenger side door was bashed in, making it impossible to escape through the door or the window. With a quick glance to confirm your kidnapper was still unconscious, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and climbed over the dash and through the shattered windshield. You ignored the pain of the broken glass tearing into your hands and legs.

You had to get out and make a run for it, it was your only chance!

The charge on the cell was dwindling as it searched for a signal, but the fates were with you, and it connected. The sound of Jensen’s voice nearly broke you. You held yourself together enough to get as much information out as you could before the call dropped.

“No, no damn it!” Your fingers shook as you tried to call again, only to be me with no service. You looked around at the dense trees lining the two-lane highway and the rapidly setting sun. Tears blurred your vision and the weight of your situation hit you in force.

There was nowhere to go for help, you didn’t even know where you were! The adrenaline in your system was fading and you could feel the effects of shock setting in. Injured in a car wreck coupled with who knows what the side effects of that drug Arthur shot you up with. You well and truly screwed.

You bent at the waist; your hands braced on your knees as you fought the rising panic. The blue patterned silk tied to your wrist peeked out from under your shirt cuff.

“Breathe, Y/N.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m right here, Sweetheart. I’m with you.”

“He’s going to kill me!”

“You can do this, come on. Deep breath. In and out.”

You closed your eyes and rubbed the silk between your finger and thumb. Like magic, you saw the closet. Warm and filled with color-coded clothes. The scent of cedar and vanilla cologne and Jensen smiling.

“You’ve got this, Y/N. Keep moving, keep fighting! I’m coming for you.”

The actor’s trick worked. Your mind cleared and you focused. Obviously, continuing on foot was only a decent option when you knew where you were going. You didn’t. Which meant it was a drain on your energy reserves. Plus, it would make rescuing you that much more difficult for the people looking for you.

You eyed the woods. It was risky, with nightfall fast approaching, you would have wildlife to contend with and falling temps, but then… so would Green. If he came to, he’d be looking for you. Best to make that as difficult as possible.

“Stronger together,” you muttered the motto that became a mantra. Even though he wasn’t holding your hand, Jensen was still with you. You could still count on him, to remind you what was worth fighting for.

With the gun heavy in your hand, you climbed down the embankment and disappeared into the forest.

“R.C.M.P. clocked a vehicle matching Green’s heading north on 99. Last spotted an hour ago just passing Lion’s Bay.”

“Any confirmation on passengers?”

“Two. A male and a female.”

“Given the timeframe of the crash, they couldn’t have gotten much farther than that.”

“Any hits on the cell?”

“No, sir.”

“Keep trying. If she’s on the move, we might get lucky.”

Jensen kept quiet as he sat in the back of the SUV. The flurry of clipped commands yielded no new information. They were racing towards you, but there was no way to know if they would make it in time. Jensen tugged at the tie on his wrist while his mind worked over-time. Were you hurt? Scared? Running or hiding? Were you alive?

God please, let her be alive!

As if on cue, his cell phone rang. Only once, before the call dropped, but it was your number. And it was enough.

“Got it! Moving slow, heading north by northeast towards Tunnel Bluffs.”

“We’ve got local law in the area about ten minutes out.”

“All units converge on new coordinates, be advised our witness is currently on foot.”

“The assailant is considered armed and dangerous, use of full and deadly force authorized for all personnel.”

The trees on Mount Harvey were thick and grew to impressive proportions. Massive, monolithic firs and pines that held the record for some of the biggest on Earth. Tangles of undergrowth and roots covered every inch of the forest floor, you lost your footing more than once. Every fall slowed you down and added to your injuries. The sun dropped to just below the horizon and the temperature went with it.

You leaned heavily against one of the pines to catch your breath. Your physical reserves were nearly gone, and you knew it. There was just enough daylight left to make out a tree a few feet away. It had an unusual split in its trunk. Limping and cradling your arm to ease the pressure on your shoulder, you poked around in the gap. Mostly filled with decomposing leaves, but big enough to shelter you for the night.

You squeezed your body through the opening and bit back a grunt as the bark scraped your injuries. It wasn’t comfortable, which was for the best. Your exhausted body was already vying for sleep, anything to counter that was welcome. The opening wasn’t wide enough to see much, but it was still a defensible position.

Your frozen fingers flexed around the gun as your eyes worked to adjust to the darkness falling. The weight of it in your hand was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. You were a doctor, you saved lives you didn’t take them. Your thumb clicked off the safety as you committed to the only course of action that would leave you alive. It would be a long night and you were damn well going to survive it.

“All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel.”

Your eyes popped open. When had you shut them? The phone in your pocket died long ago, so it was impossible to tell how long you’d been in hiding. The woods were still. There was no wind or sounds of scuttling wildlife. But a child’s song, so faint you thought you’d imagined it.

“The monkey thought was all in fun.”

“A penny for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle.”

“That’s the way the money goes.”

“Pop! Goes the weasel!”

There it was again. Singing. You were sure you hadn’t imagined it, it had to be Arthur. God! It seemed like you were making a racket! Your breathing, your heartbeat, your eyelashes blinking rapidly as you desperately scanned the inky shadows. Why did sound amplify in the cold and the dark? It all seemed to be announcing your location to the man who was coming to murder you.

“Up and down the London road.”

“In and out of the Eagle.”

“That’s the way the money goes.”

“Pop! Goes the weasel!”

He was playing with you. The monkey and the weasel. Cat and mouse. You should have kept running! Should have kept to the road, someone would have seen you. You would have stood a chance! Now you were in a trap of your own making.

“I’ve no time to plead and pine.”

“I’ve no time to wheedle.”

“Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.”

“Pop! Goes the weasel!”

The echo of the woods distorted Arthur’s voice so that you had no clue where he was coming from. Running now would do you no good. It was too late. The son of a bitch was closing in on you now. Would they even be able to find your body? Would Jensen ever know what became of you? You should have ran the minute you remembered your name.

“All around the cobbler’s bench.”

“Arthur chased the doctor.”

“The doctor thought was all in fun…”

God, please keep him safe from the psychopath. And Frankie! Make sure they know I love them! No matter what happens to me… I love you!

“Pop!”

Arthur. Blood, dirt, and broken glass. A twisted grin split his grotesque face.

Time stopped; a shot rang out. Then, nothing.

Jensen stood with the small, second group of agents investigating the crashed truck. Two sets of footprints disappeared into the woods and the first round of FBI had already spread out into the wilderness to join the Mounties and broaden the search.

The report of a gunshot echoed all the way back to the road.

His blood ran cold. “Y/N.”

A hand went to Jensen’s Kevlar covered chest before he could move. Bruce, the iron faced agent assigned to the actor, held him in place.

"Let me go!"

"Not a chance."

"That was a fucking gunshot!"

"Yeah, it was. You take off now, the next one might have your name on it."

“I don’t care!”

"Right now, every resource we have is focused on Y/N. You go out there and those resources get split, cutting her chance at survival in half.”

Jensen turned away, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck!”

"We've all got a job to do. Yours is communication,” Bruce put a steady hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “You want to help your girl? Stay put. Be here and be ready to answer when she calls."

Knowing Bruce was right didn't make the next hour of waiting any easier. It was agony. There was no word. Not a sound from anyone. Radio silence, Agent Bruce called it. He seemed to think it was a positive sign, but it was driving Jensen insane. Each minute that passed brought a horrible new thought. A potential nightmare that could play out right in front of him. And he was powerless to prevent it.

He was past the end of his rope when an ambulance came into view and sped past them. Traveling at breakneck speed up the mountain. Flashing lights bouncing off the trees and rock face.

Bruce held a finger to the tiny Speaker in his ear. A grim look passed his features.

"Let's move."

He said nothing more. No word on if you were alive or dead. No hint at who that ambulance was for. An hour ago, Jensen would have sworn he'd reached his capacity for worry and stress. But that was nothing compared to the five minutes it took to reach the clearing. There was a mass of people milling around. F.B.I. he recognized and a few others outfitted in uniforms for the R.C.M.P. That ambulance was parked off to the side, the back door was closed but the lights were still flashing. Several other official looking vehicles showed up, including one for the coroner’s office.

Jensen was out of the car before Bruce even put it in park. He caught the slender build of Frank Solomon, casually talking to a couple of other agents by the rail guard. The son of a bitch was acting like he’d completed a milk run! Jensen’s nostrils flared with rage as he made a direct path for him.

The young man looked up, seemingly unphased by the Texan’s aggressive approach.

"Ackles.”

"Where is she?!"

Solomon’s mouth opened, but it wasn’t his voice that was heard. A shrill, terrified scream came from inside the ambulance, cutting through the night.

"Jensen!"

He'd spent fifteen years stepping into the boots of Dean Winchester. Fighting monsters. Some you could see, some you couldn't. But no matter how close he was to the hero he portrayed; it was still an act. Though there were plenty of times he’d wished it were real. Wished he were more like the enigmatic man in the ’67 Chevy. The man who always knew what to do. The man who always saved the day.

And yes, he would let his ‘Dean’ show from time to time. That was a blurred line that proved useful more than once. But in that moment when you screamed for him, there was no line. There was no Dean, there was clarity.

Solomon got exactly one word out, “Wait…”

Jensen pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him on his ass.

He ran to that ambulance. On a mission and with one purpose, he tore the door open.

You were sitting on a gurney, struggling against the medic who was trying to keep you from bolting. Bruised and bloody. But breathing! The second you saw him, you went still, your bottom lip quivered.

“Jensen.”

The medic proved smarter than the F.B.I. agents and moved out of the way, allowing Jensen the room to take you in his arms. That was when you broke completely. Sobbing and desperately clinging to him like a child. You weren’t sure how you got there. One minute you were in that tree being stalked by a killer, the next you were being bundled into an ambulance. It was so surreal! It wasn’t until you heard Jensen on the other side of the door that you snapped. Reality crashed over you, and you couldn’t breathe.

Jensen tried to will his own panic away. You were alive. He had you. Bloody and trembling, but in his arms. He could hear himself telling you soothing things. Comforting words that he would never be able to recall later. He was sure you couldn’t understand him anyway, you were crying so hard that your whole body shook.

But his voice was a balm, the timbre of it washed over you. After a time, the raw shock wore through to numbness. You drew a shuddering breath and tried to speak.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice coming from just over your head. “I’m right here.”

You released your death grip on Jensen’s jacket and snuck a look at your hands. There were burn marks there from the gun powder. Across the clearing, two men were maneuvering a stretcher over the gravel. A black body bag was strapped to the top.

“I killed him.”

Jensen gently brushed the tangled hair away from your face. His gaze followed yours to the body being taken away. It could have so easily been you. He rubbed his hand down your back and tucked your head under his chin.

“Don’t look, baby. Don’t think about it. Never again.”

The EMT reappeared, insisting that you go to the hospital. He listed a number of injuries that needed attention. Including another fucking concussion.

You managed a weak laugh, “Look at us, right back where we started.”

“At least you didn’t drown this time, your average is improving,” Jensen said, kissing your forehead.

With practiced efficiency, the medic had you secured and ready for transport. Just as the door was about to shut, Frank Solomon appeared. His jaw was discolored and starting to swell where Jensen landed his punch.

Jensen smirked, “Back for round two?”

“The ambulance is already at capacity, let’s not chance it.” Solomon’s dark eyes shifted to you. The arrogance drained away, and he seemed softer. Almost repentant.

“Doctor West, I wanted to let you know that the death of Arthur Green officially closes this case. You are no longer under any obligation to the F.B.I. for any purpose and you are free to resume your life.”

“You won’t need me to make a statement?”

“We have everything we need. And I have to say, without your cooperation and your bravery, we never would have gotten Green let alone shut down the drug ring. This victory is yours.”

“I shot a man. Deserved or not, that doesn’t feel particularly victorious.”

Solomon blinked slowly, “You didn’t shoot Arthur Green.”

“What?”

“Barely clipped his shoulder, but I hardly call that a shot,” the agent shrugged, his casual manner back in place. “One of the Mounted Police got him… Roberts, I think. One clean shot to the head. Green was dead before he hit the ground.”

You could have lived with the death on your conscience, knowing it had been self-defense. But the fact that you didn’t have to, freed you. Well and truly. Lightness settled in where guilt had been only a moment ago. Words failed you. An astonished gasp left your lips, and you let you head rest against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Goodbye, Doctor West. Mr. Ackles.” Solomon shut the door and thumped it twice.

The ambulance slowly rolled away to begin its descent down the mountain. Jensen’s hand found yours under the emergency blanket tucked over your lap.

“It’s over.”

“Yeah, it’s all over, Sweetheart” he murmured, kissing your temple.

You and Jensen would talk about the incredible circumstances of how you got together often over the years. You would muse on the workings of fate and God’s grand plan. You would wonder at the impossibility of it all.

Surely, there must have been an easier way for two lost souls to meet.

But then, meeting wouldn’t have been enough. The two of you were drowning; separately but equally. The miserable details of your own lives were pulling you under like a riptide. It was so all-consuming that you couldn’t break free. You weren’t strong enough, not alone.

It was like Jensen said that day in your old apartment, make a different choice. The two of you chose to save each other. But you also chose to let yourself to be saved. It wasn’t passive and it wasn’t by chance. It was a decision. Perhaps not always an easy one, but it had power.

Love does conquer all, but only if you choose it. TagList @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseubyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @deanwwinchester

#jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn fic #supernatural #Nightingale

35 notes · View notes

nothingunrealistic · 3 years ago

Note

13. too much, jared and evan

13. too much

Jared’s mom answers the doorbell and tells Evan that Jared’s in his room, which is his first clue that something is up. The summer before high school, the Kalwanis turned half their basement into a study room, and Jared lugged all his video games downstairs, covered the walls in posters, and informed Evan that if he wanted to come over, they’d hang out in the basement, even if he was staying the night. Evan can’t recall the last time he climbed the stairs to Jared’s bedroom, but the second floor looks just like he remembers.

Second clue: he knocks on Jared’s door, and Jared calls “What?” through the door in an oddly scratchy voice.

“It’s Evan.”

“What do you want?”

Evan takes that as permission to enter and finds Jared — third clue — lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. Actually on his bed, not even under the covers, a pillow under his legs instead of his head.

Whenever Evan’s uncomfortable, he tends to say the first thing that pops into his head. “Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you Florence Nightingale?” Jared turns his head to glare at Evan, winces, and rubs his shoulder. "I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

Jared sighs and resumes staring at the ceiling. “Yesterday was Twelfth Night closing.” Now Evan winces. Jared had asked him to go see the drama club’s production of Twelfth Night so many times, and he really had meant to, but he was sure it closed next weekend, and he hadn’t managed to ask his mom which nights she could drive him there, and the poster in the hall outside his math class listed a different ticket price than the poster in the cafeteria, and — “So we had two shows and then the cast party. It got a little crazy. I’m recuperating.”

“Are you…” Evan lowers his voice. Jared’s parents could come upstairs at any moment. “Drunk?”

“Not that kind of party,” Jared says, like Evan’s stupid for even asking. “I’m just tired. And my back hates me.”

“And your voice is weird.”

“Have you ever had to shout over a dozen Idina Menzel wannabes all scream-singing ‘Take Me or Leave Me’ because they’re convinced we’re doing Rent next year? It’s worse than homecoming.” Saying that must send Jared down the same mental rabbit hole as Evan, remembering just how bad the bad parts of homecoming were, because he abruptly says, “Why are you even here?”

“We have that Spanish project due on Tuesday? And we agreed we were going to work on it today?” Jared groans and mumbles something like fuck my life to himself. “I mean, I can go home, we can do it tomorrow…”

“Let’s get it over with. You’ll just have to do most of the writing. And the thinking.”

“Okay. Right, yeah.” Evan sits down in Jared’s bean bag chair, takes off his backpack, and searches through it for his Spanish folder. “Oh, hey — I have a water bottle in here, it’s not open or anything, and I don’t know if you’re thirsty, but —”

“I’ll take it,” Jared says, sticking out his hand. Evan leans forward to put the bottle in his hand; his fingers close around it and brush Evan’s. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

(Put a number and two characters in my ask box and get a hurt/comfort drabble)

#inbox #unproduciblesmackdown #dear evan hansen #jared kalwani #jared kleinman #evan hansen #kleinsen #sometimes i write #and technically #dig those rhythm and blues #yes this is my explanation for jared's room in the movie being Like That. *i* won't make him sleep in the garage with no bed #this ask is from the end of january lol... unsurprisingly i was a bit preoccupied at the time

28 notes · View notes

thetimelordbatgirl · 1 year ago

Text

OC Halloween Challenge 2023 Random/Themeless Day Two: Lights, Camera, Action!

The characters of The Adventures Of Bannerman Road on twitter and reacting to the British Museum thefts. OC's in tweets include: *Phoebe Smith: Brainbox (girlintheattic). *Abigail Boyes-Watson: Silver Bullet's Sidekick (girlacrosstheworld). *Jared Nightingale: 0 Days Since Last Alien Nonsense (StrugglingFilmmaker).

#oc halloween challenge 2023 #ohc2023 #oc halloween challenge #long post #the adventures of bannerman road #phoebe smith #abigail boyes watson #jared nightingale #(i really tried to make this post shorter #but image shrink somehow next to each other #so uh sorry)

7 notes · View notes

ironasss · 2 years ago

Text

VERY LONG POST THAT IS A CONNECTION BETWEEN MANY THINGS!

right, good omens stars michael sheen and david tennant. amazing, incredible. trivia: they were in the movies bright young things together in 2003 (dir. stephen fry) as well as james mcavoy and bill paterson.

As a furtherconnection(s), good omens has A nightingale sang in brekely square, sung by tori amos (who sang the song Graveyard, which nail gaiman used in the graveyard book).

A nightingale sang in berkely square is also the lyric to the song bright young things, which stephgen fry had the pet shop boys sing for the movie, although it ended up being left out.

neil tennant, singer for the pet shop boys, is actually where david tennant got his name, since david mcdonald was already taken in the guild of actors he wanted to join.

right so the book was based off the novel vile bodies, by evelyn waugh. michael sheens character, miles maitland(malpractice in the book), was based off of real life bright young person, stephen tennant. wow! another tennant!

stephen tennant had brothers, one of which was named david tennant, who we will call david pax tennant to avoid confusion. Right, so david pax tennant had four/five children(this is the inconsistency i was talking about) two of which were named david and georgia tennant.

actor david tennants wife is named georgia tennant.In addition, they met on doctor who, where she played his daughter. spooky, i know.

back to the book, evelyn waught also wrote a book called decline and fall, the movie of which had jack whitehall(who plays newton pulsifer).

david tennant and james mcavoy are both marvel, remember that. adria arjona(anathema device in good omens) is also marvel.

david arnold, who did the good omens soundtrack, also did the sherlock(bbc tv series) soundtrack. this of course stars bandersnatch custardwheel, and martin freeman.

bubblebath copperwire was ALSO in episode six of good omens, as satan. and then of course, both him and martin freeman are marvel, as well as tobey jones, a guest star in sherlock.

james mcavoy was in sherlock gnome, which good enough.

ok, bright young things, we remember that? stephen fry, the director of that, was in sherlock holmes: a game of shadows(2011), the sequel to sherlock holmes(2009). those movies had rdj(marvel), jude law(marvel), rachel mcadams(marvel), and jared harris(marvel).

stephen fry played mycroft, and jude law played watson. this is of course, RELEVENT, when you remember that in the movie Wilde(1999), they slept together. stephen fry ALSO slept with michael sheen in that movie.

james d'arcy(marvel) was an extra in that movie, and guess what? james d'arcy played sherlock in sherlock(2002), which had vincent d'onofrio(marvel) as moriarty. ian mckellan(marvel), was also in a sherlock, mr holmes(2015), i believe.

oh, and jude law was actually in a different sherlock as well, but that one doesnt matter. guy henry(who was in bright young things) was two different sherlocks. he was also in kenneth williams: fantaboulosa!(2006) with michael sheen.

ben kingsley(marvel) was in without a clue(1988).(i feel like im missing an important one, but i dont remember what)

ok so on the note of Shakespeare: first off, david tennant is in like eight. EIGHT.

first one we'll talk about is much ado about nothing. his has catherine tate, who! doctor who. doctor who also has matt smith(marvel), karen gillan(marvel) and guestars gemma chan(marvel), letitia wright(marvel), andrew garfield(marvel), michael sheen, ian mckellan(marvel), bill paterson(remember him?), nina sosanya(good omens,casanova which is totally relevant), fenella woolgar(bright young things), adrian scarborough(bright young things), stephen fry, toby jones(again, marvel!), mark gatiss(bright young things, good omens, and bbc sherlock. also im p sure hes gay). (speaking of gay, neil tennant of the pet shop boys is gay)Another doctor who thingy has hayley atwell(marvel) WHO.

was in brideshead revisited(2008), the book for which was written by evelyn waugh, and one of the characters for which was ALSO inspired by stephen tennant. that or evelyn waughs gay lover from college(literally the plot of brideshead revisted)(evelyn waugh was way cooler when he was gay. then he went conservative. then he died.)

(conservative unlike the (stephen) tennant family tree, a good amount of them were liberal scottish politicians, including one or two of the davids.)

back to much ado about nothing, another version had joss whedon(marvel) and clark gregg(marvel), which admittedly wasnt very good, shakespeare was not written for americans. the kenneth branaugh(marvel) version however, that was the best version ive seen.

its worth noting the david tennant one was like an actual stage production(a hilarious one), the other two were regular movies.

next one we will discuss: hamlet. everyones done hamlet. david tennant. michael sheen. good omens. kenneth branaugh. botany candycrush. jude law. ethan hawke(marvel). ian mckellan. its nearly ridiculous. oh god bright young things by the pet shop boys started playing as i was typing this

david tennant has also done richard ii. so has patrick stewart(marvel).richard iii is one that he has not done, but ian mckellan has. that version (1995) also had rdj. (they kissed lmaoooo)(not in the movie like outside of it)(magneto kissed iron man yes thats what im getting at). so has bonaparte cragglethatch.so has peter dinklage(marvel), and martin freeman. oh, and kenneth branaugh.

david skinny ass teeth(im sorry) also did as you like it, more shakespeare. so did, you guessed it, kenneth branaugh! and his version had alfred molina(marvel).

next we have romeo and juliet, yes david tennant did that, so did james mcavoy in gnomeo and juliet and sherlock gnome.paul rudd(marvel) also did that.

david tennant also did the comedy of errors, and thats the only one i know who did that ngl.he also did the merchant of venice. so did charlie cox(marvel).

i-need-a-more-exciting-way-of-saying-david-tennant-dear-god also did king lear.so did ian mckellan.

righty kenneth branaugh did henry v, which had christian bale(marvel and batman. batman might be relevent i havent decided weather i want to include it.)

he also did all is true, so did ian mckellan, and he did loves labour lost, and so did emily mortimer(bright young things)

shakespeaRe-Told: had james mcavoy, bill paterson, billie piper(rose tyler, i), and nina sosanya.

THE SANDMAN. the sandman(written by neil gaiman, ofc) had david tennant, james mcavoy, and michael sheen in the same episode, as well as georgia tennant.

the sandman also had lourdes faberes(pollution in good omens), and stephen fry in three episodes.

it also had bill paterson.

smaller connections, kinda:-stephen tennant(remember him? brother of david pax tennant?)'s mother had a cousin who was a lover of oscar wilde. I also have a family tree of this family written down, i dont know why.

peter o'toole, who was in bright young things, played casanova in the tv show casanova, the same person david tennant was playing. (they played the old and young versions)

Ill add more connections later probably,for now I'm watching doctor who.

14 notes · View notes

positivexcellence · 4 years ago

Text

Bare Magazine- Gen Padalecki

The Bare Magazine: Where to start? Congratulations on your many successes! What drew you to blogging?

Gen Padalecki: I went to school [NYU] for acting, and I’ve always been really driven and work-oriented. I got a job on “Wildfire” right out of college. I’d been working and acting until I met Jared, and then we got married and had kids pretty much right away. And that was wonderful, I got to fully immerse myself into being a mother. But when I was pregnant with our third child, I wanted to have something just for myself. So I started a blog. I wasn’t even on social media at the time, so I was pretty nervous to show who I was. But then it just took off. So, that’s how I got here.

Bare: On the blog, you refer to yourself as an urban homesteader. Enlighten us, please!

GP: For me what it means is living off the land where you can. I don’t have a working farm, but I have a garden I can pull vegetables from and chickens that lay eggs I can use. Urban homesteading is about dipping your toe into the water and living as sustainably as possible.

Bare: Did quarantine allow you to do more urban homesteading?

GP: Yes, being around more let me tend more to my garden and observe its cycles. It helped me understand the seasonal aspect of food. I also jumped on the bread baking train with everyone. My friend gave me a two-year-old starter, but I just couldn’t figure it out. But I did do a lot of pickling since we had a surplus of vegetables from our garden.

Bare: And how have your kids fared in quarantine? That’s a lot of together time for a big family!

GP: Setting a strict schedule helped, especially during the summertime when they weren’t in school. We created a schedule where we woke up at a certain time, ate at a certain time and even snacked at a certain time. Children thrive knowing what’s in front of them. Of course, sometimes you need to break from the schedule. We even took a road trip. And we had “date night,” where we’d take out one kid a week for some individual time.

Bare: Any thoughts on when you’ll get back in the saddle?

GP: When quarantine started, I was riding a lot. It’s the first thing I’d like to get back into again. I grew up around horses. I even had a horse before we had our first son. It’s always an activity that has been in our family. My mom had a paper route to pay for her first horse!

Bare: Shifting gears to acting, how was it working with your husband in “Walker”?

GP: Most people look at us like we’re nuts, but we met working with each other. [The couple met and fell in love on the set of “Supernatural.”] But we are both hard-working, A-type personalities, and we do really well with feedback, so we tend not to get our feelings hurt. I mean, we’re already in love with and attracted to each other! It’s also fun to put our marriage aside when we’re working, since our roles have nothing to do with who we actually are

.Bare: Do you guys have rules about being away from each other and the kids?

GP: That is certainly challenging. When Jared was away, we had a rule that we’d never go two weeks without seeing each other. Now he’s in Austin, so it’s a bit easier, but we’re still winging it. I think the biggest thing is for one of us to always wake up with and put the kids to sleep.

Bare: Speaking of non-negotiables, what are your Bare essentials?

GP: My family. They’re, like, number one.

Outdoors. Especially the trees. I love forest bathing.

A great book. [Recent favorites include Lot Stories, Three Women and The Nightingale.]

My two boys make this insane crème br��lée that I could eat at any moment.

And I love BITE Beauty lipstick and Boyish jeans. They’re comfy, cute and sustainable.

Bare: What about pieces from the Sonoma Collection, on which you collaborated with Kohls?

GP: I wear it! It’s super-comfortable. I loved making and wearing that collection. But I like dressing up, too! I feel like when you wear something that feels good, you feel good. It gives you a little confidence even if you’re not having a great day.

#Genevieve Padalecki #bare magazine

39 notes · View notes

smokeybrandreviews · 4 years ago

Text

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: As Hard As Chinese Arithmetic

So far, this year has been a doozy, man. We had an insurrection at the Capital. Then a big-tittied, Goth Vampire, Amazon Mommy just triggered all of the interweb’s fetishes, male, female, and other. Then, a bunch of Reddit Sh*tposters broke Wall Street for the Lolz. It has been a f*cking ride, man. I’m just happy we made it to the end of the month because, f*ck, i need a breather. Plus, the first new film of the year, a proper theatrical flick, released in the multiplex, just dropped. Since we ain’t got vaccines for the Wuha and i hate society in general, i wasn’t about to brave the outside for it. Fortunately for me, Warner Brothers said f*ck it, and decided to release their entire 2021 film slate, same day as theaters, to HBOmax. The first flick out the gate with this rather comfy release strategy? The Little Things. From what I've seen, this cast is dope but I've heard mixed reviews. Curious to see which side of the discourse I'll land on. Either way, I'm watching this thing from the comfort of my couch and i kind of dig it.

The Good

Denzel Washington is, obviously, the best thing about this flick. Dude is always one of, if not the best, thing about whatever he's in and this is no different. Washington has been acting a real long time so this the of part he can play in his sleep. I think, though, that might have been a detriment because his Joe Deacon comes across as a little “samey.” I re-watched Virtuosity the other day and this character feels like the cat he played in that, which feels like the cat he played in Man on Fire, which feels like the cat he played in Equalizer. I'm not mad, mind you, Rampage Washington is one of my favorite things about Hollywood, but I think playing this character like that was a mistake. Still, it was fun to watch.

Rami Malik plays, like, a regular dude in this. His Jim Baxter is kind of the foil to Washington's more aggressive, more passionate Deke, and it's weird to see. Like, i get it, Rami wants avoid being typecast as the weirdo but, I mean, the weirdo is where it's at, you know? If the character is well written and there's room to really dig in with an eclectic performance, why not go weird? Malek sure has the face for it.

Jared Leto just plays himself. The character he's supposed to be portraying is named Albert Sprama but this is just regular ass, crazy ass, cult leader ass Jared Leto. It's not a bad performance but you can tell Leto isn't really trying to be anything but who he is in this.

The atmosphere in this thing is palpable. I respect that. Neo-Noirs and thrillers like this need that. They need to feel seedy, gritty, dirty. For all of it's faults, The Little Things definitely nails that. It ain't Nineties grunge but it does a pretty good job of emulating that kind of energy, even if it's really just a facsimile and not the genuine article.

Listen, this is a gorgeous film. The cinematography and scene composition are top notch. As far as a visual piece of media, it really does deliver. There's this sordid, grimy, feel to the presentation that really mimics David Fincher's early work. I'm a fan of Fincher's so I noticed the similarities immediately but, as much reverence as this content has for his work, David Fincher this ain't.

This thing is beautifully directed. I might have my issues with the film as a whole, but John Lee Hancock put his best foot forward trying to visually craft this narrative, for sure. It's a little awkward seeing dude forge this type of story considering his more, lighthearted entries into the Hollywood collective, but he approaches it with the same flair and professionalism as he does those films, too.

The Bad

Look, I love the principals of this cast. They are all great actors Individually Together, there's no real chemistry, especially between Malik and Washington. I think that's more because of the lacking script more than anything. A lot of this movie feels like it's adequacy relies too heavily on it's lead's abilities rather than a solid script or screenplay. That's a shame because a crime thriller starring Denzel Washington and Rami Malik chasing after Jared Leto sounds like a swell f*cking times.

So this thing is a period piece. It's supposed to take place in the Nineties and, as a cat who grew up during that time, this definitely doesn't feel like them. Sure, there's little nods and everything to it like music choices and certain set dressings but, overall, this doesn't scream Super Grunge, Extreme Radical to me. Which, we all know, is exactly what the Nineties absolutely were.

There is a distinct, Fincher-esque, energy to this film but it fails miserably properly capturing it. Like, This movie is trying WAY too hard to be Se7en. I understand why it would, that film is a masterpiece but one shouldn't wear your inspirations so nakedly. Makes it way too easy to draw the obvious comparison and your entry will always be left wanting. It's weird to think that Hancock thought he could do that considering his catalog of film. Nothing about The Blindside or Saving Mr. Banks gives me confidence that he can adequately pull off something as macabre as Se7en and it really seems dubious to me that he tried.

The strength of Se7en started with what was on the page. Fincher crafted this diabolical, challenging, degenerate narrative and had the perfect cast to bring it to life. The Little Things has the ambition to pull that same thing off but the script is way too weak for that. Hancock can't write this stuff, man. Indeed, it really feels like he watched Se7en, thought up a twist, and wrote from there. Basically, he wrote this screenplay the same way Stephanie Meyer wrote Twilight and we all see how well that turned out. If you don't have a story to tell, don't make a movie. Nothing great start with just a gimmick unless you're selling toys and that only works because kids are idiots.

Bro, what is this dialogue??

This movie is long, man. Long and barren. One could say that it is actually really boring at parts. Now, I'm not saying that, I'm a fan of the slow burn, bu this was even taxing my nerves. I think, though, that a better script could have goes a long way to alleviating that. The fact that I didn't give a sh*t about anything going on with these characters really made it hard to stay engaged.

The Verdict

The Little Thing is a January movie and it's weird to get one of those in this, new Pandemic age. More than anything, it's a disappointment, especially coming of excellent January releases these past few years like Underwater, The Nightingale, and Paddington 2. This film does not come close to the quality of those and it's real deflating. I wanted to this movie to be excellent. There are a few individual components that actually are. Great lead performances, outstanding direction, beautiful camera work but the core of this movie is lacking. The screenplay is a complete letdown which is the most f*cked up aspect of this this whole situation. Apparently, Hancock wrote the first draft of this flick in Ninety-three and this is the best we got. This is the version that made the screen. F*cking trash, man. The Little Things isn't a terrible film, not at all, but it's not good either. It is an incredibly mundane and pedestrian attempt at trying to copy Se7en but it never reaches those heights. You've seen this movie before done much, much, better. If this thing as shorter, I could recommend it might higher but this whole ass, two-hour run time is a bit much. If you have HBOmax and time to kill, its a decent watch, just don't expect too much from it. If you want this to be your grand return to the cinema, pass on that. It's not worth the ticket price.

#Smokey brand Movie Reviews #The Little Things

1 note · View note

rausule · 1 year ago

Text

Prominente Protestante

dit was vir haar genoeg: sy sou nie verder ondersoek instel nie. Hy het geweier om te oorweeg watter algemene beginsels die verskynsel beheers het en of sulke beginsels selfs bestaan het. Vir jare ná die ontdekkings van Pasteur en Lister het hy gespot wat hy die obsessie met batterye genoem het. Die infeksies het nie bestaan nie; hy het hulle nog nooit gesien nie, so hulle het nie bestaan nie. Maar hy het die goeie resultate van vars lug gesien, daar kon geen twyfel daaroor wees nie, en dit was dus noodsaaklik dat pasiënte se kamers goed geventileer is. Dit was sy gedagte, en in tye toe die vensters hermeties toe gebly het, was dit 'n gedagte met revolusionêre kenmerke. Dit was egter suiwer empiries, en het dus tot 'n paar nadele gelei. Toe sy gesag in Indië byvoorbeeld op sy hoogste vlak was, het hy streng opdragte uitgereik dat al die vensters van die hospitaal te alle tye oopgehou word. Die Indiese owerhede, wat die uitwerking van hierdie maatreël in daardie tropiese klimaat voorsien. hulle het geprotesteer, maar tevergeefs het die Nagtegaal nie saamgestem nie. Hy het niks van die tropiese klimaat geweet nie, maar uit persoonlike ondervinding het hy geweet wat die voordele van vars lug is, wat die owerhede gesê het is onsin en vensters moet heeljaar oopgehou word. Daar was 'n vlaag van protes onder dokters in Indië, maar sy het onwrikbaar gebly; en vir 'n oomblik het dit gelyk asof sy nadelige bevele uitgevoer moes word. Lord Lawrence was egter onderkoning en kon met genoegsame gesag aan Nightingale oordra dat hy self die saak besleg het en dat sy besluit moes bly staan, alhoewel in stryd met hare. Hierop het die Nagtegaal toegegee, maar teësinnig en halfhartig is sy net deur Lord Lawrence se swakheid versteur. Ongetwyfeld, as sy vandag geleef het, en as haar ervaring nie onder die gevalle van cholera in Scutari gevorm was nie, maar onder dié van geelkoors in Panama, sou sy verklaar het dat vars lug 'n fanatisme was en tot op die laaste die enigste werklik effektiewe middel om siektes te bekamp was om muskiete uit te roei

Maar sy verstand, so positief, realisties en pragmaties, het sy unieke rigtingveranderings gehad, sy geheimsinnige krisisse van mistiek en twyfel. Soms, terwyl sy slapeloos in die oggendure gelê het, het sy in lang en gekwelde meditasies verval en dan, terwyl sy 'n potlood gryp, sou sy die belydenisse van haar siel aan papier toevertrou. Die angswekkende angs van die dae voor die Krim het haar weereens aangegryp en sy het bladsy na bladsy gevul met sielsondersoek, selfkritiek en selfabsolusie: O Padres, het sy geskryf, berusting by my lot, ek onderwerp my heelhartig aan die hand dat U my aanbied om my te red.... O, hoe ydel is dit nie, ydelheid van nietighede, om te voed op die gedagtes van mense in plaas van die gedagtes van God. Sy was alleen en ongelukkig. U weet dat ek in al daardie verskriklike twintig jaar ondersteun is deur die sekerheid om vir U te werk, wat ons almal, selfs ons arme verpleegsters, na die pad van volmaaktheid lei. Maar dan, op die ou end, wat was die resultaat? Was sy nie ook 'n nuttelose bediende nie? Een nag, skielik wakker, sien hy, in die dowwe lig van die lamp, donker skaduwees op die muur. Die verlede kom terug na haar toe. Is ek regtig die vrou wat eens in die Krim geseëvier het, wonder sy verwoed. "Die beeld van die Dame van die Lamp" sal voortduur... Die lamp verlig net my volledige nederlae

Hy het vertroosting gesoek in die geskrifte van mistici en in korrespondensie met Jowett. Vir baie jare was die rektor van Balliol College haar geestelike raadgewer.In 'n reeks baie lang briewe het hy die probleme van godsdiens en filosofie met haar bespreek en met die beleefde begrip van 'n geestelike wat ook 'n man van die wêreld was, gekritiseer haar vir wat hy oor hierdie onderwerpe geskryf het; soms het hy dit selfs gewaag om 'n bietjie van sy sonderlinge soetheid in daardie rebelse geaardheid te voeg.Dit lyk vir my, het hy vir haar gesê, dat jy die moontlikheid ernstig moet oorweeg om nie met minder energie aan te gaan nie, maar met 'n rustiger verstand. Ek blameer nie die verlede nie...maar ek wens die vrede van God om jou toekoms te seën, Le

Prominente Protestante

Ek beveel ook aan dat jy nie meer tyd mors in dispute met regeringskantore nie en jouself aan een of ander literêre werk toewy. Dit het daartoe gelei dat sy in 'n reeks essays vir Frazer's Magazines uitgebrei het oor die konsep van perfeksie divinas. Sy het dit gedoen en haar geskrifte is aan Froude voorgelê, wat verklaar het dat die tweede opstel selfs meer indringend as die eerste was. Ek kan nie voorsien nie, het hy vir haar gesê, wat die uitwerking van sulke geskrifte op die intellekte sonder ervaring sal wees. Carlyle het egter in 'n ander taal gepraat, en aangesien sy opmerkings oor 'n verlore skaap, wat in die berge geblêr het, ontoepaslik na die Nagtegaal verwys is, was al Jowett se vriendelikheid nodig om die vrede te herstel. In 'n brief van veertien bladsye het hy haar aandag van daardie pynlike vraag afgelei na 'n diskwisisie oor stiltelikheid. Ek sien nie hoekom nie, verduidelik die rektor, 'n aktiewe lewe nie ook 'n soort passiewe lewe kan word nie. En toe voeg sy by: Soms dink ek dat menslike moontlikhede baie hoër hoogtes kan bereik as wat hulle tot dusver bereik het.Om die nut van hierdie idees te erken, het sy dit met blou potlood onderstreep; en op sy beurt sy vriend gehelp met 'n lang reeks uitgebreide kommentare op Plato se dialoë, waarvan hy baie in die tweede uitgawe van sy vertaling opgeneem het. Geleidelik het Nightingale se belangstelling in Jowett meer persoonlik geword; sy het vir hom gesê om nie na middernag verder te werk nie en hy het haar gehoorsaam. Toe het sy hom gehelp om ’n nuwe ritueel vir die kollegekapel se daaglikse kerkdienste saam te stel, met ’n keur uit die Psalms soos volg: “God die Here, God die Regter, God die Vader en God die Vriend; maar die projek is nooit uitgevoer nie omdat die biskop van Oxford, op advies van Sir Travers Twiss, nie die wysigings toegelaat het nie, en sodoende sy wettige magte uitgeoefen het

Hul verhouding het hegter geword. Die gees van die 23ste Psalm en die gees van die 19de Psalm moet in ons lewens verenig word, het Jowett gesê. Uiteindelik het sy hom vir 'n spesiale guns gevra. Was hy gewillig om, onthou die bydrae wat hy tot haar godsdiensbeskouings gemaak het, na Londen te kom om die Heilige Sakrament aan haar te bedien? Jowett het nie gehuiwer nie en later verklaar dat hy die geleentheid altyd as 'n plegtige gebeurtenis in sy lewe sal beskou. Hy was toegewyd aan haar, alhoewel die ware aard van sy gevoelens nooit ten volle geopenbaar het nie. Haar gevoelens teenoor hom was meer gemeng. Aanvanklik was hy daardie groot en goeie man, daardie regte santos. Maar met verloop van tyd het 'n bietjie bitterheid met die soetheid van die lof vermeng, en die bitterheid van sy natuur het hom openlik vertoon. Sy het gevoel dat sy meer begrip gee as wat sy ontvang het en was moeg en geïrriteerd deur sy geselskap. Op 'n dag kon hy homself nie help nie en het vir hom geskree: Hy kom na my toe en praat met my asof ek 'n ander personals is.

#afrikaans #south africa #Prominente Protestante #pizza #geskrifte #Frazer's Magazines #Heilige Sakrament

0 notes

team-free-will-you-idjits-67 · 6 years ago

Text

This Crazy Life (Part 7)

Description: Your life changed the moment Jared Padalecki walked through the doors of your shit job, in your shit town. You helped him as much as you could, becoming extremely close. (Characters, Warnings, etc. will change per part.)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Reader, Your Mother

Relationship: Eventual Jared Padalecki x Reader

Warnings: Angst-y (Sorry lol), Fluffy

Word Count: 1335

A/N: Ayooo. I missed my sweet pea Jared. Most likely will be working on Part 8 before I work on some other fics. Enjoy! Also, completely edited by me and I’m trash sometimes so excuse errors lol

TAGLIST

MASTERLIST / JARED PADALECKI MASTERLIST / Part 6

Jensen, Jared, and your Mother were all gathered around your kitchen table murmuring and laughing with each other as you bounded down the stairs. You smiled softly, hearing Jared’s chuckles float through the air.

At least he was having a good time.

You walked towards the table, catching a glimpse at what they all were looking at. You gasped and glared at your mother as your vision focused on the photo album. Your baby photo album. “Mom! Do they really need to see this?”

Jensen looked over his shoulder at you, “C’mon Y/N, you were cute. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You cheeks burned crimson with embarrassment as Jared turned in the chair to face you, “You were cute. Your mom has some funny stories too, nothing to be embarrassed of.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked towards the refrigerator, mumbling “Whatever,” under your breath. You grabbed at a water bottle and shut the door, watching the three of them in the dining area.

The boys continued flipping through the pages, giggling at your pictures when your mom separated herself and walked through the kitchen towards you. She gave you a small hug and rubbed at your arm as she broke from her embrace, “I thought it could help him since you weren’t down here.” She let out a breathy laugh, “He already seems quite attached to you sweetie.”

You gripped the water bottle tightly, “Yeah.” You smiled, sadness etching in your features slightly, “But, Jensen’s here so he won’t need me much longer.”

Your mom slapped your arm lightly, “Don’t think like that. From what I can tell, you are more important to him than you think.” She looked towards the boys, turning your attention to them as well. Jared looked up with a soft smile. When his eyes caught yours, his smile widened before he focused back towards the album as Jensen pointed at something.

You sighed as you looked at our mom, “I won’t be able to be around him forever. I need a job, I need to pay off my loans.” You looked back at the boys, “And they need to get back to work too.”

You mother nodded, “I know sweetie, but that doesn’t mean things can’t work out for the better.” She walked back out to the dining room, leaving you staring at Jensen and Jared.

You hoped that you’d still keep in contact with Jared, be friends, hangout, but you didn’t want to kid yourself. Jared was a star. He needed to get back to work, film and go to conventions for the Supernatural Family, and he had to figure out things between him and Gen. It wouldn’t take much for him to forget about you, focus on his life and forget about the stranger who saved his life.

You shook your head slightly, shaking your current thoughts out of your head before they made you emotional. You plastered a smile on your face and walked into the dining room, “So, boys. What do you want to do tonight?”

-----------

You parked in front of the hotel after spending the night with your family. Jared and Jensen had absorbed every bit of information about your childhood your mother gave them. They were surely going to use that to their advantage at some point in the future, if there was some sort of future with them. You turned towards Jared, “So, uh, what are the sleeping arrangements for tonight? Your room only has one bed and there’s three of us.”

Jensen chuckled in the back seat, “I’m getting my own room. You and Jared can keep doing… whatever you’ve been doing.”

Your eyes narrowed as you and Jared turned towards him. Jared spoke, “Seriously?”

Jensen just continued chuckling as he got out of your car and walked into the hotel.

Jared cleared his throat, “Sorry about that. I don’t know why-.”

You cut him off, “It’s fine. I’m sure he was more trying to mess with you more than anything.” You shrugged as you opened your door, “Besides, it’s not like you guys will be around for much longer.”

You grabbed your duffle from the trunk and walked with Jared to your room. You both got ready for bed and settled down beside each other. You could feel Jared glancing towards you periodically as you caught up on notifications on your phone. Turning towards him with a raised brow, you questioned him. “What?”

Jared turned on his side to face you, “Are you okay?”

You looked back at your phone, “I’m fine.” Jared scoffed and pulled your phone out of your hands, “Hey!” You protested.

“You’ll get it back when you stop lying.” He said as he set your phone down on his endstand. “Now, seriously. What did you mean outside? That we won’t be around much longer?”

You stared at the ceiling and sighed, “You guys have a job, kids, personal lives you have to get back to and attend to. It won’t take long for you guys to forget about this, or me. So, what Jensen said doesn’t really matter.”

Jared laid beside you quiet for awhile before he whispered, “I couldn’t forget this.” He took a deep breath, “Or you. Ever.”

You looked at him, silent tears glistening on his cheek at the small amount of light that filtered into your room. Your heart broke as he sniffled and wiped at his face. “Jared, I didn’t mean-”

He waved his hand at you as he cut you off, “You literally saved my life. I would never forget someone who did that.” He paused, collecting himself, “I don’t know about you, but I want to keep in touch, no matter what happens. I, uh, need you in my life. More than Jensen at this point.” You opened your mouth to protest as he continued, “This isn’t some weird Nightingale Syndrome or something. Yo-you are like some, missing piece in my life. I thought Gen helped me with my mental health, I thought she was my rock but, you? She never came close.” He sat up, resting his hands in his lap and picked at his fingers, “You are different. I’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in my life, so soon. I’m so scared of being hurt and hitting new lows because of it, it takes a really long time for me to trust anyone.” He looked over his shoulder towards you, “I need you, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere, at least in a metaphorical sense, until you say otherwise.”

You sat up and scooched towards him. Wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his shoulder you sighed, “I don’t want you going anywhere Jare. I-I feel the same way.” You exhaled deeply, “What are we going to do though? You have to go back to work, I have to find a job to pay off my loans….”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back towards the bed, “Well, we can do one of two things.” He squeezed you softly, “You can stay here, find a job and I can go back to Vancouver and film and we hangout when I’m off, or you can come with me. You can stay with me. I could get you a job on set or pay off your loans for you. That way, we would both be comfortable, having each other, instead of constantly worrying about the other,” he snickered, “and you wouldn’t have to worry about those loans.”

You bit at your lip, “I don’t know about you paying off my loans, but I’ll think about it.” You rubbed his side softly, “How long will you stay in town for?”

He absentmindedly rubbed circles on your arm with his thumb, “Four more days. I have to start filming again on Monday, we leave Sunday.”

You nodded, “I’ll let you know by Friday.”

“Okay.”

You gave him a soft squeeze before settling at his side, “Goodnight Jared.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

Tags:

FOREVER TAGS:

@emoryhemsworth , @nanie5 , @gabrielslittleangel, @alexwinchester23 , @witch-of-letters , @caswinchester2000 , @justawaywardwinchester , @thehufflepuffblog , @missihart23 , @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting, @mogaruke, @supernaturalsammy01, @heyitscam99, @hobby27, @frozenhuntress67, @duskany, @mazie87 , @tumbler-tidbits , @mersuperwholocked-lowlife, @asfanfiction , @emilyshurley , @zephyrie , @ghostshadow1312 , @wholockmerlinlover, @singers-auto, @lokilove3112, @teddybeardoctorr, @sleepylunarwolf, @negans-lucille-tblr

SAM/JARED X READER TAGS:

@andyl394, @rebelminxy, @jointhehunt67 , @xxtheoutsidersxx , @paradoxical-sleep , @stoneyggirl

THIS CRAZY LIFE TAGS:

@my-proof-is-you, @somilotopia, @everythingisoverrated, @emilyshurley, @squirrelnotsam , @drakelover78, @mannls, @sillydecoy, @daphne-fandom-writing, @haloliight , @racheladams77, @spn-ficfanatic , @dreaminemz ,

82 notes · View notes