#just another thing val always said to me proven right

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

terminal bitch doesn't know when to shut the fuck up syndrome

[floralkittygambler]

RadioDust is the Healthiest Toxic Ship for Angel so far

@honesthazbinarchives​ Briefly. I’d like to go into this more in the future BUT these are the main points I said I’d do. Heh ‘stay tuned’ for why HuskerDust is toxic [haaaa funny fuckin reference n shit like Viv herself aint overdone it]. Yer dont even wanna know the lack of enthusiasm in tryna do a playful ‘cringetopia’ joke - wasnt as fun as anticipated. Anyfuckinways, the shit. Before we begin, disclaimers n whatnot, no hate intended, dni if you’re a bit of a knobhead [either stan or extreme anti], an all that nonsense. I dont own the characters no shit.  In this I’ll discuss how RadioDust aka SpiDEER (thats right, yer stuck w my shit humour now) is both the healthiest ship for Angel we’ve seen so far but still rather toxic. Idc if you hate me for it but dont fuckin waste yer time telling me. Great. I dont care. Yer fuckin hard n whatnot for harassin strangers online. Big dick energy to you. This will be slightly messy, my apologies, it’s a quick summary of many points.

Alright. Firstly, out of the entire male cast Angel interacts with over all platforms, Al is given a fair bit of mercy in terms of sexual advances. In fact, a swift ‘no’ and Angel doesn’t do it again - unlike most of the other cast [pent’s is covert, husks is overt]. One thing I like is that Angel himself admits to their chemistry (claiming that whilst he thinks Al’s a prick, he thinks Al dislikes him which saddens him as he’d at least like to be friends as he feels they have good chemistry - according to the VA via Hunicast’s 1yr anniversary), there’s no further efforts to jump on his dick but a clear curiosity/interest in what Al can do.  Lets go to the basics, both are of similar age [allegedly in their 30s, though Ive heard Al may be up to mid 40s] as well as created near the same-ISH time (as in, Viv’s oldest characters, at least for HH). Likewise, Viv admitted to knowing fuck all on either of their eras (and to make that public wasn’t really a wise choice BUUUT if you felt the need, it’s better worded with interest “Right now I’m working towards educating myself more on their time periods to improve their portrayals” <-- crucial if yer want that ‘realism’). Because of their real-world ages, Viv confesses they’re her favourites (even if you didnt know, she makes it pretty clear). It could be a nice ‘homage’ to their impact in her life but not too relevant otherwise. It could fulfil the need for self indulgence that she’s unhealthily leaking into the canon - which will ultimately make the series shit. No sugarcoating there.  As for their ages, a relationship can work whether the gap is large or small HOWEVER there are many ethics and conflicts to each. And being an adult into kids is always fucked up. With that being said, studies have shown that closer ages often work better due to the often similarities in mindset, maturity and life goals (older folks are more likely to want to settle, younger often have more ambitions), likewise there tends to be an unbalanced power-dynamic if the ages are too far, which can lead to various types of abuse. Dont get me wrong, being with someone much older (AS LONG AS NONE OF YALL ARE KIDS) very much CAN work - but rarely. There’s much more hardwork needed as well as being in the right mindset for both, otherwise it’s bad. More on that in HD. Long story short, both are closer in age meaning both are more ‘relatable’ to one another. There’s common grounds, even in the eras there’s some higher understanding of one another. Notice how Vaggie and Charlie are similar in age? (Even though Charlie is far older, her appearance and mentality for her race is on par with Vaggie’s, making it far more likely to work out positively) One of the most prominent out of all of this however is their actual interests. So listing; Both like action/chaos/having fun (often at the expense of others), both love cooking and can be food snobs in their own right, both have sadistic AND masochistic tendencies, Al likes performance and theatre whilst Angel loves *to* perform, on that last point Angel was very intrigued and enjoyed Al’s song number/performance naturally, both really enjoy pranks and both enjoy liquor (neither show an actual addiction, but rather an interest in social drinking - no dependencies on it). Again, close eras mean both have a higher probability of understanding the other and their lifestyles better. Both are high on appearance and love themselves, implying self confident mindset (healthy BUT the narcissism isnt) yet enough consideration for how they are viewed. On the parent system, one adores his mama whilst the other hates his pops.  Now Ive gone on about how they’re similar. But similarities ALONE is not enough. If it was, then fandom’s would be a lil more harmonious~ A HEALTHY relationship needs compatibility, POSITIVE conversation flow, common grounds, trust, openness and understanding. Even then, some people click and some just dont. It’s like how you can just hate someone for no reason. It just IS. Common grounds and similarity is scientifically proven to be attractive to someone - be it good or BAD. People are drawn to those like their parents in some way usually, likewise we look for people similar to ourselves (from our interests, to humour, beliefs, goals, etc). Science itself states that ‘opposites attract’ solemnly applies in the real world successfully. Though similiarity plays a large role, there has to be some differences too - that person is STILL an individual separate to yourself. Too similar and it’s boring. Too similar and you’ll do everything together without some ‘you’ time. Both Vaggie and Charlie have similar interests/hobbies in dance and music, yet still have enough differences to be identifiable when together. Vaggie is more grounded than Charlie. Charlie gives some optimism and fun to Vaggie. Remember, a partner does NOT complete you - that’s a toxic mindset when taken too seriously, You complete YOURSELF. Whether you have someone or not, you must feel complete in yourself as to not slip into toxic dependency on a lover - to become them, a shadow of them or feel like you’ve lost your identity without them. Sounds harsh but it’s true. Chaggie compliments each other without a dependency. You stand alone yet uplift one another. You don’t always agree but in the end you always have each other’s backs. Love is often butchered in a toxic light in the media.  So taking that into consideration, how does spideer work? Well, here’s some examples of good, bad and neutral: - Angel loves animals, Al fears/dislikes dogs. Perhaps Angel could assist him in overcoming this? - Al hates being touched, Angel dislikes being squeezed. Maybe this could help them reach an understanding... Or cause a rift? - Angel was the only one to break Al’s composure, either Angel is the *key* to delving further into Al’s more raw self... Or just another obVOXious pest? (yeah, I said it-) - Neither respect other’s boundaries, meaning both may fuel the other to be overly disrespectful in this area. Not good. - Angel is a sarky/sarcastic fuck, Al loves dry humour. Both seek amusement and chaos. In relationships one needs to see how conversation flows and in the hunicasts, both keep up some good as well as toxic banter. Both could roast the fuck out of an opponent however. - Al is acro/ace, Angel is hypersexual (appears like a sex addict - now I say this as his book has a crossed out ‘fun stuff’ with ‘work shit’ written on it. He’s always fixed on sex from his job to his humour), this could either aid Angel ease up on the sex stuff OR make him overly push it onto Al causing major rifts and discomfort (aces can have sex, ref to ace posts that real asexuals put to understand more but no one wants to be forced into sex is the point here). And we’ve already discussed their lack of respect for boundaries. The positive is that maybe this will make Angel understand how Val is rubbing off on his own behaviour towards men [again, more on that in the HD post]. - Both similar yet different in a way that does suit their compatibility chances but that doesnt mean they will click, it just improves the odds. - Both have similar enemies in Val and Vox, they’re on common terms. Likewise, Al is against the ‘sexual deviance’ of hell meaning he may be oddly supportive and protective of Angel in terms of Val. I dont even think his sadism will override this either. - Al dislikes modern tech, Angel seems to use it as his job requires it. A nice little menial difference. - Only ONE is an addict. Take it from an expert, you NEVER put two addicts together. They’re very vulnerable and prone to slipping deeper into their addictions as well as depending on each other too much that they essentially become very clingy, suffocating and toxic to each other. Seen it in action, it’s ugly.  - Both could have a lot of fun and calm moments with each other. - He isn’t immediately smitten with Al but immediately shows a natural interest in Al’s powers and performance, embracing it openly. Leads for a good friendship turned lovers plot. - In Viv’s patreon, she confirmed Angel loves confident guys [sounds exactly like Al] We need to think about where both are mentally. What benefits would a relationship give both? How would they be good and bad for each other? For Al, aside from his outdated views and being a fucking murderer and narcissist, he actually seems in a good mindspace for a relationship IF he opted to be in one. Angel however has a very immature mindset, likewise is in a phase of life where hes bed hopping. IF he were to be in a relationship, I’d say he needs a male equivalent of Cherri - someone with a similar mindset yet some differences, willing to have fun and in touch with their younger side, down to cuddle, open to share and receive love as well as not afraid to publicly be affectionate with him, someone who sees him as more than just for sex, someone fun, someone who’ll let him embrace his cutesy side publicly without shame - Cherri is younger so maybe someone who’s his age or slightly younger perhaps? I think Angel’s not retirement home ready to settle and needs someone on his level that can cuddle and chill as well as feels free and youthful enough to go wild with him. In one sense, he’s got a teen girl sorta mindset (dont put him with a teen though, it’s fuckin weird-). He needs someone positive and raw, someone to let him be himself as well as someone comfortable to be themselves around him. He has a habit of latching onto unobtainable men (in psychology, this is self sabotaging subconsciously): Travis the client, Val a pimp, Husk (emotionally unavailable and needs HEAVY self work - interestingly far more than Angel - plus he’s still onto his last relationship and an addict to gambling and alcohol), Pent who’s the enemy he was currently fighting (inappropriate timing), Alastor who’s not interested in another but his own needs [selfish, VERY bad for a relationship]. Subconsciously he’s self sabotaging on purpose. There’s many psychology books as well as sources online for this, if you’re interested. Either way, Angel is drawn to men either like his father [who dislike him, shun him, or are otherwise cold, abusive or just blatantly dislike or otherwise dont care about him] or anyone with money to fuel his drug addiction/’debt’ to Val. Going with any of these men isn’t a good idea.  Preferably, Angel needs someone who he doesnt immediately crush and obsess over. Someone who he doesnt sexually harass or assault. Someone he can build a connection with quickly that can bud into romance (think how Chaggie started as a friendship which clicked immediately). Maybe even someone he doesn’t expect to fall for but does so anyways. It would be more realistic as Viv wants as well as more healthy. That for once he isnt sex or money craved instantly, thus doesnt sexually harass/assault and is given a proper chance to develop and grow a friendship and love. Someone who isnt an addict.  Someone with an on-par mindset where they click. Someone open to love. For any chance of a good relationship, Angel needs to be with anyone BUT who we’ve already seen. There’s too much toxicity that’ll be swept under the rug and justified otherwise. Too much shit to fuel homophobes in terms of gay stereotypes. Even though Ive focused a fair bit on Angel, it’s NOT just about Angel. That’s something fans forget. Some he depends on or someone who depends on him in the long term wont last and will be very dangerous to both.  Just because you suffer, you dont then deserve to be rewarded with ‘something nice’. You dont get to have everything youve ever wanted. Giving him any of these blokes [minus Val] gives him a pass. Gives him what he wants. I get Viv loves him but life doesnt work that way. True lasting growth comes from learning that. Acceptance and growth. You dont get everything you want and sometimes thats a GOOD thing. He’s not a spoilt kid who gets everything he asks for, he’s YOUR creation. If you really wanted what your creations deserve then you need to research and be realistic with it. Because hes starting to feel like a shitty Gary-Stu at this rate. I live with an ‘Angel Dust’ like person. It used to feel like life gave her everything and most times it did. Everyone loved her and she could get away with murder if she wanted to. But now she’s had to struggle and grow, let go of some ‘wants’ because they werent good for her and she’s becoming better for it. She has a long way but she’s more humble for it now [still got self confidence but it’s less narcissism now, which is more healthy for her]. Also, they make the word anal lol

[gumnut-logic]

When the World Goes Boom (Part 8B)

Here is the rest of Part 8. This fic definitely has a life of its own. I was seriously stuck this morning but with a pile of help from Bri, I managed to get writing again. So much for a quick fic for Alan’s birthday on 12 March. It is a matter of an hour before 12 April at the moment and every brother has his finger in the pie now ::sigh:: I hope you enjoy whatever this is ::hugs::

Spoilers & Warnings: Spoilers for season three, angst, hurt/comfort, brothers and family, 4007 words.

Many thanks to @scribbles97​​ @onereyofstarlight​​​ and @i-am-chidorixblossom​​ for putting up with my crazy and reading this at random moments. Also the extra plot help from @onereyofstarlight​ when I was all wibbly and stuck earlier today ::hugs you all::

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part 7A | Part 7B | Part 7C | Part 8A | Part 8B

-o-o-o-

Jeff continued to stroke his eldest son’s back, ever aware of the tense muscles there. Those shoulders supported so much. So much he should have been here for.

Scott’s head rested on the edge of Virgil’s bed. His breathing was quiet, but his face held a frown, even in sleep. Jeff hadn’t missed the grey hairs at Scott’s temples, or the worry lines faintly creasing his forehead. The last eight years had been the worst in Jeff’s life, but the worst of it was what he had done to his sons.

Scott’s fingers lay intertwined with Virgil’s.

He couldn’t think too hard about Virgil. Dark hair, pale bruised skin, white sheets.

Life support machinery.

If he thought too hard, he would lose it.

From the moment he had stepped foot on Thunderbird Two in the depths of space, Virgil had been there, hovering and worrying.

His engineer, medic, musical and artistic son.

One hand on Scott’s back, Jeff reached out his other and lay it gently on Virgil’s leg.

Please.

He closed his eyes.

Only to fling them open again as the door was thrown open. A doctor and nurse burst into the room, urgency in their expressions. Jeremy and Brie followed them in.

The room was suddenly crowded.

Jeff pushed himself to his feet, both hands suddenly signalling quiet. Scott’s sleep was precious.

Both of the medical professionals eyed the sleeping pilot. The doctor’s lips thinned, but her voice was quiet as she spoke. “Mr Tracy, we’ve identified the drug that your son was attacked with. We have an antidote. We would like your permission to administer it.”

The woman was virtually bouncing.

Jeff’s eyes darted to Jeremy. The security guard nodded just once.

Oh, thank god.

He turned back to the doctor. “You have it.”

“Thank you.” The woman moved over to Virgil and began running a series of obs. “Mr Tracy, according to your son’s medical records, he has a medication sensitivity.”

Jeff nodded.

The doctor fiddled with Virgil’s IV. “The dosage currently in his blood stream is a large dose, but a man of his size should not have reacted in the way he has. Consequently, we have minimised the antidote and will increase the dose if necessary. The last thing we want to do is overdose him on another drug.”

Jeff nodded again mutely.

Scott shifted where he sat and Jeff reached out to resume the circles on his son’s back. The nurse glanced at their interaction, but Jeff ignored her.

The doctor administered a hypodermic to the IV and took a step back.

The room fell silent and the tension climbed.

“How soon?” The words fell from his lips unbidden.

“Response times vary, but we should see a change very soon.”

As she said it, the heart monitor beeped quietly several times in a row and he watched as his son’s heart beat flickered a moment before switching from stimulated to self-sustained.

He sucked in a breath.

Virgil’s heart rhythm held strong, the pattern regular and a wonderful sight.

Oh, thank god.

It wasn’t everything, but it was a step in the right direction. Jeff’s sight blurred.

“Mr Tracy?” The doctor’s voice was gentle. “We will be monitoring Virgil’s progress closely, but you should know that the prognosis is good. The antidote is a proven foil for the drug your son was attacked with and your son received excellent first aid.” A glance in Jeremy’s direction. “The prognosis is good.” Her lips curved in a small encouraging smile.

Jeff straightened his spine. “Yes, yes, thank you, Doctor Harris.”

She held his eyes a moment longer before backing up a little and gathering her equipment. A glance and the two medical professionals slipped out of the room.

Jeremy stayed.

Jeff’s eyes flickered to the man.

A worried frown as he stared down at his gravely ill charge.

“Thank you, Jeremy.” Jeff’s voice was rough. “You saved his life.”

The man swallowed and continued to stare at Virgil. “Shouldn’t have had to.”

Jeff had no answer to that. His soul was baked dry. He had no comfort left.

Instead he sat down again beside Scott, a hand falling gently to each of his sons.

He would call his mother shortly. His sons.

The heart monitor’s quiet beep echoed his own heart as if it was keeping him alive.

He waited.

-o-o-o-

Gordon found John on the roof exactly as Eos had told him, Tane standing beside him. What she hadn’t told him was what his astronaut brother was doing.

Still wearing his tan-coloured gravity support shirt...and people claimed Gordon had a bad taste in clothing, John took the cake...his red-haired brother’s head was buried in guts of the hospital’s communication satellite dish.

“John, what are you doing?”

His tall brother startled and whacked his head on an overhead metal bar. “Ah! Gordon?”

“Sorry.” But Gordon wasn’t feeling too gracious at the moment. “What are you doing?”

“Tracing communications.” He pulled out his tablet and tapped it repeatedly. “Eos needs a little more bandwidth than this ancient piece of tech can provide. I’m providing it.” Red brows frowned at his tablet screen. “I haven’t been able to identify how our suspect was receiving information.”

“You reckon this will help.”

More taps of his fingers. “Definitely.”

The big question. “Authorised?”

Turquoise flickered in his direction. Hmm, obviously not.

“Scott?”

“With Virgil...injured...command is left to me.”

“What about Dad?” It was a question that had to be asked.

John didn’t look at him, continuing to stab his tablet. “Dad authorised GDF access to our files. Virgil was almost killed within hours. I don’t believe he has the knowledge required in this instance.”

“It was Dad?” Gordon’s shoulders tensed.

With that John did straighten up. A sigh. “My fault. I didn’t give him the information he needed to make the correct decision.”

“But he knows of our history with the GDF, the spy?”

John turned away, but shook his head.

“What? Johnny, he needs to know.”

“I told him and he didn’t give it the credit it was due.”

Gordon frowned. “When?”

“The day Virgil was injured.”

“What? That recently?”

“It was just...he isn’t long out of recovery and we thought a gradual re-introduction to International Rescue was warranted. I was forced to tell him without preparation and I didn’t have time to follow it up with a situational report. Aunt Val was demanding information and Dad made the decision.” His brother turned back to the dish and dove in head first again.

“So, what are we going to do?” Gordon was sure he knew the answer. John wasn’t one to beat around the bush. The astronaut, if anything, was direct and to the point.

“We…” His brother emerged and grabbed his tablet again. “…are going to find who did this to our family and…prevent…them from hurting us any further.”

Gordon held his brother’s gaze. There was so much unsaid in those eyes. Calm though John appeared, he was anything but, and while Gordon might scream at the nearest target, John would simply act.

Lips thinned, Gordon straightened his shoulders. “Count me in.”

-o-o-o-

Someone was stroking his cheek.

Sensation.

Followed by pain.

He groaned.

His throat screamed at him.

“C’mon, honey, I know you’re in there.” The stroking continued and he became vaguely aware of someone holding his hand.

“Virgil, c’mon, bro, you can do it.”

He frowned and found his face aching almost as much as his chest and throat.

Another groan.

Ow, shit.

“Virgil?”

Dad. That was Dad. They had found Dad and he was safe and home and, thank, god.

“Open your eyes, Virgil.”

Scott.

His big brother.

Augh, his face hurt.

“Hurts.”

Shit, that was his voice? He coughed and everything flared up in pain.

The hand on his cheek moved to his hair, fingers combing through it. “Virgil, dear, let us see those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

Hurts.

But he was always one to do what his grandmother asked of him.

He found his eyelids and forced them open.

They dropped immediately, the blur and the glare, harsh and painful.

“Shut off the lights, please Jeff.”

His eyelids grew dark and he relaxed a little. Sleep would be nice.

“No, Virgil, you need to wake up, dear.”

Don’t want to. Tired.

“I know it is hard, but open your eyes for us.”

He gave it another go and the darkness became a dim blur. He blinked and the blur sharpened into his family.

Grandma stood beside his head and was the one responsible for the hand in his hair. Scott sat beside her and was holding Virgil’s hand. Allie was on his own bed and at an angle to the bed Virgil was lying on so he could see clearly. Blue eyes sparkled and grinned at him. “Virgil!”

Allie.

Allie was being attacked.

“Al-an!”

“No, you stay put, young man.” His grandmother was holding his shoulder. “Alan is safe. You saved him. He is safe.”

Safe.

Allie was safe.

Oh, thank god. Memories flickered in and out and his right hand clenched.

And screamed at him.

The sound that issued from his throat wasn’t remotely English, but it said everything he felt.

And there was Dad, worried grey eyes staring down at him. “Dad…”

A hand gripped his leg gently. “You’re safe, Virgil.”

“Alan…”

“I’m here, bro, thanks to you.”

Thanks to him. Memories swirled again as his arm throbbed in complaint at the movement. His eyes closed involuntarily and he found he had no strength to open them again.

-o-o-o-

Scott’s vision blurred as Virgil slipped back into sleep and he had to blink his eyes to clear it. His fingers spasmed just a little tighter around his brother’s hand, ever grateful for the warmth there.

“He needs his rest.” Grandma reached an arm around Scott’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “He’s going to be okay, Scotty.”

All eyes in the room immediately turned to him and he swallowed. His voice failed him, but he sat straighter.

“Now I want you back in bed. You’ve been sitting here for hours and you have your own recovery to consider.”

“Yes, Grandma.” He didn’t have the energy to protest. Virgil was going to get better.

His eyes didn’t leave the bruises on his brother’s pale face.

“C’mon, honey.” She helped him to his feet and he stumbled, turning and reaching for his bed. “You need rest almost as much as Virgil. Sleep is the only thing that is going to fix your head, so give it all it needs.”

“Yes, Grandma.” The bed felt lovely to roll into as gravity took its pressure off his weary body. Sitting hunched in a chair for hours wasn’t good for anything.

He rolled onto his side so he could see Virgil.

But he wanted to see Alan as well. His little brother was having a rather intense discussion with their father as to whether he needed more sleep.

“But Dad, I’ve been asleep for ages.”

“You need rest, Alan.”

“I am resting!”

“Alan.” Scott’s voice cut across the room. “Do as you are told.”

Blue eyes glared at him for a moment before dissolving into a more familiar pout.

Their father frowned at Scott.

“Dad? Can we leave Alan over there? Allie, can you stay there?” He wanted to keep his two injured brothers in sight.

Alan’s eyes narrowed. “So, you can keep an eye on me.”

“Yes, for that very reason. Do as you are told, Alan.” But the message was there, he could see the vulnerability in his little brother’s eyes.

“Fine. But only because I want to be able to see Virgil as well and if I’m stuck in the corner, I can’t see beyond your big head.”

“Alan.” Their father’s voice was full of warning.

“He’s bossing me around, Dad!”

“Because apparently you need it. Now, I’ve asked you to rest and so has Scott. Do I need to wake up Virgil and get him to nag you as well or should your grandmother come over here?”

Alan opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Wow, Dad. Scott just stared.

Alan may be an adult, but he was still technically a teenager and every now and again he regressed.

Said teenager glared and with an exaggerated pout, curled up in the bed on his uninjured side. Their father reached over and squeezed an ankle. “Rest, son. You’ll feel better for it.”

Alan’s expression just grew grumpier.

“Virgil is getting better.”

And that hit the nail on the head. Alan relaxed just a little bit more and the frown lessened. Another squeeze of his son’s ankle and their father pushed the bed gently into dock on the other side of the room, opposite from Virgil’s bed. Alan stared at his sleeping brother, still attached to monitors and multiple IVs.

“He’s getting better.”

Dad’s voice was reassurance itself.

Grandma, who had obviously elected to stay out of it, brushed Scott’s hair off his face. “Go to sleep, Scotty. You need it.”

A sudden thought. “What about John and Gordon?”

She snorted. “You let your father and I worry about the vigilante brothers. You worry about yourself.”

Vigilante? “What?”

His grandmother sighed. “Relax, Scott.” She began stroking his hair.

He couldn’t remember the last time he combed his hair. He probably looked awful.

But that one word stuck in his head.

Vigilante.

What the hell were his brothers up to?

-o-o-o-

Gordon had to admit that having Eos on the team was a great advantage despite the situations that resulted.

He could almost hear Virgil’s snort at that comment, followed by the inevitable ‘situations you create, Gordon’.

God, he missed his brother.

But Virgil was improving. His dad had been adamant and Gordon clung to that. Apparently, he had even woken briefly. He wished he had been there, but this was important.

Tin walked beside him, her pace one he had to keep up with. She was not happy. But then neither was Gordon.

Using the wider bandwidth John had jimmied into the system, Eos had been able to swoop into the network and gather information much faster. She dove straight through protected systems like a phantom. Or so John described the process. How she did it, Gordon did not have a clue, but he was ever so grateful she could.

She was able to crunch all the communications data that had occurred in and around the building for the entire time the Tracys had been resident. It had been a massive task, but one she was uniquely suited to. The majority was civilian comms traffic hooking into the hospital network due to the communications restrictions around medical equipment, but there was a small portion that was GDF flagged. None of that had appeared suspicious, but John as particularly interested in the traffic around the time Aunt Val had been in the building.

One anomaly had been found.

Aunt Val entered the hospital with Foster and two aides.

She left with Foster and only one aide.

Tracking down what had become of the second aide had proven difficult. Hallway security cameras located Foster speaking to the missing aide and that aide leaving the corridor outside the Tracys’ hospital room, but from there the aide vanished.

She did not exist the building.

Both John and Gordon agreed that it was likely this person was the person who attacked Alan and Virgil.

The question was did Aunt Val know?

“I’ve called in Jack Dunning. We may need a lawyer to keep Virgil’s attacker out of the hands of the GDF.” Tin’s voice was matter of fact, but underneath he could hear the boiling pot of anger she was keeping under control.

Gordon grunted. His anger was much closer to the surface. It was cold and it made him sharper. The perpetrator – his mind spat the word – was currently being held by New Zealand police, but Aunt Val was moving for global extradition due to the Tracys being the Tracys.

They couldn’t let that happen.

John had called the elevator down and taken off for Five. He wanted to be hands on hunting down the details of the explosion, even if that called for shifting Five into an orbital path contradictory to GDF directives.

If there was a way to discover what had actually happened up there to injure their brothers, John would find it.

Ignoring the GDF was quite liberating.

Until they found out.

Jack Dunning was good. Gordon hoped they didn’t have to find out how good.

Aunt Val had retreated to the local GDF base after his ‘words’. So, this time he had to go to her for a meeting.

Iz hovered as they crossed the gardens at the entrance to the building.

It was always amusing to flip out his International Rescue ID. The expressions on the face of security was always worth it and these guys were no different. Yep, there was the surprise, followed by the starstruck expression.

“Thank you for your service, sir.”

Gordon blinked. Wow, a devotee. He nodded once. “You’re welcome. We’re here to see Colonel Casey.”

The guard was still staring at his ID. “Gordon Tracy…so you fly Thunderbird Two?”

Blink. “Sometimes.” He wasn’t in the mood to elaborate.

“Aw, great. Thunderbird Two is the coolest Thunderbird.”

Gordon’s flat-eyed stare at that comment got a confused reaction.

“Excuse me, we are in a hurry.” Tin’s cold voice cut across the silent conversation. “Colonel Casey’s office?”

The guard jumped and hurried to lead them where they needed to go.

The colonel lacked her usual smile when they entered and Gordon wondered how many bridges he had permanently burnt.

At this point he didn’t care.

“Kayo, Gordon, what can I do for you?” Her tone was cool and curt and she eyed Iz as she slunk in behind them.

Tin didn’t waste one moment, deploying an electronic security net with one hand. The subtle hum was unnerving, but it created a bubble around them that secured all transmissions in and out of the room and blocked all audio-visual equipment.

Casey eyed the gadget, but didn’t comment as Tin slapped it down on her desk.

“Colonel, we would like your assistance in identifying this person.” Tin’s phone flickered up a hologram of the missing aide.

They had already identified the woman as Brede Williams, a New Zealand born GDF administrative aide. John had even located her address in Auckland. Eos had infiltrated the apartment block and found her room’s electronics undisturbed, including the locks, for several days.

John feared for her safety.

The perpetrator in custody was definitely not Brede Williams.

The colonel eyed the hologram with an arched eyebrow. “That is Corporal Brede Williams, one of my executive assistants.”

Tin didn’t react. “When did you last see her?”

“She called in ill a few days ago and has been on personal leave since.”

Tin took a step forward, her entire body whip sharp with potential energy. “Colonel, when was the last time you saw her.”

Aunt Val blinked and frowned. “She was with me at the hospital, but had to leave due to a family…what are you implying?”

Tin switched the view to the incriminating scene where Captain Foster spoke to the woman outside the Tracy’s hospital room. They watched as she walked off.

“She never left the hospital.”

Aunt Val’s mouth was open but nothing was coming out.

Gordon took the opportunity to state the obvious. “We believe she wasn’t who she appeared to be. That she was in fact the person who attacked Alan and Virgil.” He drew in a breath. “You brought a killer into the hospital and Virgil nearly died.”

The strict military officer he expected to turn around and rip him a new one melted in front of him. Aunt Val sat down hard on her desk chair, shock on her face.

Still nothing came out of her mouth.

Gordon was caught between distress at the devastation in her expression and anger that she had been so easily fooled.

“We advised you that you had a spy in your ranks quite some time ago. What has been done to identify the person or persons responsible?” Tin was sharp and no nonsense.

Aunt Val found her voice, but it was uncharacteristically uncertain. “I reported the issue to my superiors. There was some shuffling of staff and I was assured the problem had been negated.”

“Assured.” The word fell from Gordon’s lips with a snarl.

Dark eyes glared up at Gordon. “I had no reason to disbelieve the assertion.”

“Colonel, you were once disposed by those superiors and an infiltrator replaced you. The result of those actions nearly cost us Thunderbird Two and several innocent lives at Saad Madina. Yet you’re telling me that you trust them?”

She stared up at Gordon and some of the more familiar steel returned to her expression. “Not all of us have the luxury of complete trust, Lieutenant. As you should well know.”

His eyes narrowed at the barb obviously referring to his past in WASP and the end of that career. He ignored it. “You can trust family, Colonel.”

She stood up slowly. “Easy when you have choice.”

“There is always a choice.” A huff of exasperation. “C’mon, Aunt Val, dump this outfit and come work with us.”

Brown eyes flickered with the briefest of fondness and his heart clenched.

“You know I can’t do that, Gordon.”

“Why not?”

“I can do more here.”

“The system is corrupt!”

“And it is one person less corrupt as long as I’m here to fight it! Do you think International Rescue would last very long without me here, Lieutenant? I stay for Lucille, for her family, for you and for the smallest chance that I can do some good and prevent this damned organisation from taking the world with it!”

It was Gordon’s turn to have his mouth drop open and nothing come out of it.

The anguish returned to his aunt’s face. “I’m sorry Virgil…I didn’t think we were that vulnerable. I thought my office was secure. Please, I would never want to hurt any of you. How is he?” The plea was an honest one.

It was Tin who answered. “An antidote has been found and he is recovering slowly.”

“Oh, thank god.” The woman wilted. “Scott and Alan?”

“Also recovering.”

Alan might have nightmares for the rest of his life, but Gordon kept that to himself.

Tin straightened. “We believe Alan was the target of the attack. Virgil got in the way.”

Aunt Val frowned. “They think he remembers something.”

A single nod was all Tin was willing to give her.

“So, if you find who was responsible for the explosion, you’ll find who ordered the attack.”

“That is the plan.” A considered gaze. “We need everything you have on the incident.” Tin threw a drive onto the desk.

The colonel eyed them a moment before reaching down and picking up the drive with the IR logo wrapped around its edges and plugging it into her terminal. A flick of her fingers, a breath, and she unplugged it again. “It’s not much, but if there is a mole in my staff, the data may not be comprehensive.”

“We are aware of that.” Tin slipped the drive back into her pocket. “Thank you for your assistance.” She turned to leave and Gordon took a step to follow.

“Gordon. Kayo. Be careful.” She knew they weren’t going to play by the rules, he could see it in her eyes. “And give my love to your family…and my sincerest apologies.”

Gordon found he couldn’t answer. The Colonel he could yell at, but Aunt Val had always been a part of his life, a cherished reminder of the mother they had lost.

Tin answered for him. “Yes, Colonel.”

The use of her rank struck hard and her shoulders bowed just a little.

Gordon said nothing. He grabbed the electronic net and turning, followed Tin out the door.

It hurt, but GDF and International Rescue relations could never be the same.

-o-o-o-

End Part Eight

[scrapyardboyfriends]

What I want for all of the characters on the show right now (A mostly comprehensive list)

Aaron - Post spiral, give him Seb. Let him be a single dad. Give him a new friend (a new character, Billy, Vic/Matty/Amy) Have him either get a new partner at the scrapyard or get rid of it altogether and buy into the garage so he can interact with people again from time to time. Also...overalls. 

Liv - Get her away from Aaron. Let her mix with the teens again. Especially the Gabby/Leanna/Jacob crowd. Explore her epilepsy in that setting. Explore her asexuality more. I’d love to see her realize she might have a thing for a girl. 

Chas - Cheat on Paddy. Get out of that character suffocating relationship. Get her spark back. 

Paddy - Break up with Chas. Take a holiday? Stick to scenes with Marlon?

Bear - LEAVE - He serves no purpose. Even less so now that Faith has gone too. He’s just dead weight and his and Paddy’s relationship is not interesting in any way. 

Eric - I’d like to see the B&B more. I miss when we used to see him there with Val all the time. 

David - I’d like to see him stay single for a while. Take more of an interest in Jacob and keep being a dad to Theo. Could have new parent stories with Vic or Chaddy (**shudder I know).

Leyla - I’d like to see her get to do more at Take a Vow, get to plan Sam and Lydia’s big village wedding and more. I would definitely be up for her and Liam if they want to go there. 

Jacob - I’d like to see him actually continue to mention that he’s getting counseling and see some of the effects of that. If they don’t go with Liam and Leyla, I think he and Leanna properly together could be nice. 

Liam - Keep being the amazingly fabulous person that he is. I’m sad we lost Bernice, but I do think he and Leyla really could work if they wanted to go there. 

Leanna - I’d like to see her keep up her friendship with Gabby even though their parents aren’t together anymore. I’d be open to seeing her and Jacob actually date if their parents aren’t going to.

Gabby - I’d love to see Gabby get a bigger story. Let her start being a bit more adult. I’d like to see her get a job in the village. She could go back to working at the B&B but we actually see it. I’d love to see her get a real love interest or a big issue story. Rosie has proven she can handle bigger material with the Ashley stuff, so I’d like to see her get to do that again. 

Diane - I’d love to see more of the B&B again in general. I miss it. I’d keep her to the comedy stuff. Let her interact with Eric more and Liam too. Maybe a few heart to hearts with Aaron since she’s the only one who will listen to him apparently. 

Wendy - LEAVE - I really don’t know what purpose she serves once she eventually realizes Lee was a rapist and Vic wasn’t lying. I just want Vic to be free of these people and I don’t see what Wendy brings to the village and Vic shouldn’t have to forgive her for all of the harassment and the stalking and she shouldn’t have to accept her into Harry’s life. Just let Wendy go Emma Barton and babynap Harry and be done with it. 

Luke - LEAVE - I don’t really have a problem with Luke but I’d rather Vic just get a fresh start away from all of Lee’s family. If he did stay though, I guess he could be a candidate for being Aaron’s friend as long as they built that up in a more natural way rather than him just happening to be there when he’s getting chucked out of clubs. 

Victoria - Needs a fresh start for her and Harry. I think Vic is a character that needs to be rested for a while. She had a big year last year and I think she could just enjoy being a mum and juggling that with work and supporting her friends. I think in the second half of the year, perhaps they could explore her trying to date again. I just wouldn’t have it be Luke.

Matty - I know he just moved back to the farm, but I need him to move right back out again. Matty needs to have his own story, not just be stuck on Moira duty. I really really want to see them explore a relationship story for Matty again. 

Amy - Since they’re obviously never going to give her any consequences for Frank’s death, I’d sort of just like to see her keep being a supportive friend for the time being. I think she’s good in that role. Or, and we’d have to see how it worked out chemistry wise, they could have Amy try and help Matty find a girlfriend and end up falling for him instead. 

Kerry - Keep using her in small doses only. Her and Mandy make a fun comedy duo in the salon but they need to be kept at a minimum to appreciate them. 

Cain - I’d like to see him have a thing with Cara again perhaps. If he’s ever going to get back with Moira, they need to take their time with it and really properly build it back up and make it stick this time. 

Moira - Let her lose the farm for the love of god so a new family can move in. She needs a massive shake up as a character because she’s just going in circles. She needs off the farm and back in the mix of the village. I have considered the idea of her buying Charity out of the pub with the farm sale money. She could fight with Chas as they work out how to run the pub together. Give them both their spark back and that could pave the way for her and Cain to work things out if they want to go that way. She’d just have to learn to not drink the place dry first. 

Nate - LEAVE - I want Cara to stay but Nate still seems pretty useless to me. I just don’t think Cain ever needed another kid in the picture. I don’t see what it does for him as a character. I don’t see why he should have to forgive Nate for what he did. So...what’s the point. Plus Pete is leaving so he won’t have him to help on the farm anyway. Mostly, I want him to facilitate Cara staying and then get run over by his own tractor or something. 

Cara - I’ve liked her so far in the three episodes we’ve gotten of her. I’d be up for her staying for a bit and sorting Nate out or pushing him in front of that tractor and maybe having a thing with Cain or anyone else she wants to. 

Charity - I’d love to see her get out of the pub and get back to using her business skills. I’d love to see some real conflict between her and Vanessa that lasts more than a week and a half. But if they’re going to ever get married, just let them get married and then let them have conflict or something. I’d love to see her continue to pay attention to Noah. 

Vanessa - Again, conflict for her and Charity. Could be interesting to finally get her mum to come to the village. She could come for the wedding, cause some friction between her and Charity. I’d like them to continue her friendships with Rhona and Moira. She’s good in friend mode. 

Noah - I think they’ve been doing well with Noah lately. I would like to see him and Charity work on their relationship more. I’d like to maybe see him mixing it up with the older teens again too. Maybe a crush on a girl. 

Sarah - Same as Noah, I’ve liked what they’ve been doing with her lately. And I’d just keep her hanging out with the rest of the teens. 

Ryan - LEAVE?? - I hate to say that because obviously having a disable character on the show is a good thing but he just never should have been Charity’s son. She didn’t need another kid and they haven’t done nearly enough with that relationship to make it worthwhile. They barely let him interact with his siblings. All he does is show up for occasional tech help. And he’s only up at Home Farm to facilitate Graham murder stuff so just like...do something with him or let him go. 

Kim - Keep her interacting with the rest of the village. It’s the best version of her. I’d love to see her properly fall for someone and have real feelings rather than it all feeling like a manipulation. 

Jamie - Keep him and Andrea separated. Let him keep this backbone he’s developed. I’d like to see him repair his relationship with Rhona post Graham because I did like it at the start. I think he and Belle could be good together. 

Andrea - LEAVE??? - She’s another one who they either need to do something with or let her go. She might be the one to kill Graham and leave that way, who knows. If she’s going to stay, she needs to move into the village and get out of Home Farm and away from Jamie and make her own life. Get a proper friend, find someone new etc. 

Rhona - Rhona probably needs a post Graham break. Then I’d just like to see her repair all of her relationships with everyone she’s hurt. As far a romance for her goes, I did consider her and Marlon getting back together. Although as things currently stand...that’s gonna take awhile. 

Al - If they’re going to put him with Kim, I want real feelings. Mostly, I want them to let him be a real villain. The show needs a villain and the Al that first showed up in the village had that potential. 

Ellis - LEAVE - Damnit Asan! I loved Ellis but New!Ellis just doesn’t work. I don’t know if he could if they actually gave him screen time and his own story but as it is now, I just want to ship him back to Dubai. 

Billy - I really like Billy right now. I love that they’re keeping his relationship with Marlon going. I like him and Dawn. They could probably use some real conflict at some point too but so far, I like them as they are. If Al was going to go full villain, that could also provide some good material for him. He is a candidate for a friend for Aaron too. I know how he was introduced and that they never really resolved that between them but there’s always the chance for them to have a proper conversation about it and move on. I think they could be good for each other in the long run. Aaron is lost without Robert and Billy no longer has a proper Ellis, so it could work potentially. 

Dawn - As I said, I like her and Billy together. I think they need to make a decision with Lucas once and for all. If she’s going to get him back, I think it could provide good material for her and Billy, dealing with having a little kid to parent. 

Harriet - Zzzzzzzzzzzz - Is it time for a new vicar yet? Mostly, I think she needs to stick to the village events and the background snark because whenever she gets a real story, it’s just so dull. 

Will - much the same as Harriet. He could stay or go, I wouldn’t care. He’s fine as village color I guess. 

Marlon - He’s great as he is, serving up snark and food from the Woolpack kitchen. I love him playing support to everyone, he always elevates whatever scene he’s in. I’d love to see him get a love interest that is going to stick around for a while. Both he and April need that stability. If they can get past the Graham of it all, he and Rhona have always worked well together. So...maybe?

Zak - I assume Zak is off because of the actor needing the break. I hope Steve Halliwell is doing okay. Before Lisa got killed off, I always thought it would have been an interesting story for Zak to get killed off but for now he can just be if he ends up coming back. 

Belle - I’d like to see her get more to do at the vets and I’d be up for her and Jamie. 

Sam and Lydia - LET THEM GET MARRIED!!!! A big, crazy Sam and Lydia wedding is all I want. Also would like to see Lydia continue to deal with the Huntingtons stuff and her family.

Mandy - Like Kerry, she’s best in small doses. I like her up with the rest of the Dingles though. She is fun. I wouldn’t mind it if she stuck around a bit longer. 

Vinny - I still don’t have a clue what’s going on with Vinny and who his parents are and if that will ever be relevant. If it’s going to be, I wish they’d just get it over with already. Other than that, if he’s staying, I’d like to see him actually leave Wishing Well and make friends with some of the other teens in the village. 

Bob - Stick to bar work and stay the hell away from Wendy. 

Brenda - Keep being you. I’d like to see them properly do something with her and Doug though because I forget they’re actually supposed to be together most of the time. 

Doug - Let him plan a garden show or something insane like that. 

Rodney - SMALL DOSES

Nicola and Jimmy - Keep being the legends you are. I want to see Jimmy get properly absolved for all of the Arthur/Archie stuff. I want to see so much more of Councilor Nicola. I’d like to see Jimmy take someone new on at the Haulage firm and maybe just sigh all the time that they’re not Robert because he was better. 

Laurel and Jai - I want to see them stay together. I think they work well together. They just need to get through this Graham mess in tact and sort out their kids’ problems. I’d like to see them continue to blend their families though, maybe living together eventually. I’d also like to see Jai have some success in business. Either at the outdoor pursuits place or starting his own thing again. 

Priya - LET HER BE A SHARMA AGAIN. Let’s forget Rakesh ever existed. GET HER A STORYLINE!!! GIVE HER A NEW LOVE INTEREST! Literally anything. 

Rishi and Manpreet - I want to see his chocolate business grow some more. And for them to just keep being as they are. 

Pearl - I MISS PEARL! I hope she’s okay. Any Pearl we can get is good. 

Dan - Small Doses, stick to the background. 

Pete - Please need to leave to go tend to your one remaining brother because his girlfriend got hit by a bus…

Tracy - Let Tracy find some business success again. I really liked her trying to start her own business. Or if Andrea goes, let her go work at Take a Vow with Leyla. Let her find love again too. 

New Characters I want

A new family at Butler’s Farm - let them be a big family with multiple generations. They decimated the Bartons and the show needs another bigger family coming in all together to balance out all of the Dingles. 

A new gay male character in his 20s to take the pressure off of Aaron needing to be in a relationship. I think it would be nice if they were friends though. Let the new guy have some crazy relationships of his own. Could be part of the new family.

Teen lesbian. Could be part of the new family too. I think it’d be nice to explore coming out or already being out for the younger generation. Also could be an interesting potential love interest for Liv. 

[prairiesongserial]

10.7

The chapel was pretty, though the observation barely registered against the fact that John wasn’t there. Cody didn’t feel great about being proven right on that point. The pit of dread in his stomach was starting to give way to numb acceptance, a fog that not even the brilliant colors of the chapel’s stained-glass windows that made shapes of dancing light across the floor could shine through.

“Hey, over here,” Valentine said from near the front of the chapel, gesturing for Cody to join them by what he guessed was the confessional. It was intimidating - a big, partitioned booth made out of dark, polished wood, with the sort of craftsmanship that tended to baffle Cody. How long had it taken someone to make this, and where had they gotten all of the wood from? Had someone from the convent made it, or had it always been here? It had the impression of a structure that had simply grown out of the ground one day, and allowed the convent to be built around it, rather than vice versa.

There was a figure of an angel carved into the confessional, in the space between the two doors, and as Cody made his way across the room to join Valentine, he saw that the details of the angel’s face had been completely worn away over time. Rubbed smooth, even, like someone had deliberately sanded it down to render it featureless.

“Novitiates like to touch it for luck,” Valentine said, reaching out to pass their thumb over the angel’s face demonstratively. “We should really get it fixed, but angels are supposed to be a little scary, right?”

“I guess,” Cody said. He didn’t know much about angels, but the carving made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Rather than look at it any longer, he stepped into one side of the confessional booth, and let the wooden door click softly shut behind him.

It was dark inside. A little like what Cody might have expected the inside of a coffin to feel like, if the cushioned bench he was sitting on hadn’t been so comfortable. Valentine hadn’t lied about that.

There was a sudden, sharp sound, and a beam of light filtered through a tiny, screened window set into the wall to Cody’s left. Through it, he could just barely see Valentine’s profile.

“I’m supposed to say something first, right?” Cody asked. He had never been particularly religious, but some of Miriam’s regulars at the bar had been, and he had a general sense of how this was supposed to go.

“Well, that sort of depends,” Valentine said. “You can just sit there and spill everything that’s on your mind, without being formal about it. But if you want me to absolve you afterwards, then yeah, you have to say a specific thing first.”

Cody frowned. “Absolve?”

“It’s like...forgiving you on God’s behalf,” Valentine elaborated. “Which I have the authority to do, as a reverend.”

That made a certain amount of sense. Cody nodded, only belatedly realizing that Valentine couldn’t see him.

“Does that work even if I’m not Catholic?” he asked. “The absolving thing.”

Valentine made a noncommittal noise. “Technically no, unless you’re dying, but I like to think I could at least put in a good word with Him for you. I still take confession from people who left the Church, but have nowhere else to go.”

Cody weighed his options. It would be a relief to have someone take his guilt off his hands, and to be forgiven for what he’d done, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be forgiven by God, exactly. It wouldn’t feel as satisfying as it would to be forgiven by the Dead-Eyes. Or by John - though Cody still wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to make John close up so abruptly the way he had by the river. Maybe it was nothing that needed forgiving. He could hope, anyway.

“I think I just want to talk,” he said, bringing his feet up onto the bench of the confessional and hugging his knees to his chest. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s less work for me,” Valentine said, easily. Through the small window, even in the dim light, Cody could just barely see them smiling their funny little half-smile. “So, Cody. Let’s talk. How do you know Valerie?”

“I don’t actually know him that well,” Cody admitted. “I was half-dead the first time we met. I owed a lot of money to my - to a gang leader, who chopped off two of my fingers when I couldn’t pay him back in time. I almost died, except John rescued me on the road. I don’t remember a lot of the first couple weeks we were together, but I guess he dragged me to Vegas to find a doctor, and Val and Friday helped him out.”

“Friday’s the short one?” Valentine asked. “And John is the one with the bad knee.”

“Yeah,” Cody said. “After we left Vegas, Ethan - the gang leader - showed up and threatened Val, to find out where John and me were headed. And then he burnt down Val’s church. Val was just telling me about that - that he’s sorry he gave us up.”

Valentine let out a low whistle. “No kidding.”

“I told him it wasn’t his fault,” Cody said. He still couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Val, not when he knew firsthand the way Ethan manipulated people and used the things they loved against them. “Ethan would’ve found out one way or another. But I think Val still feels guilty about it.”

“No wonder nobody can get him to talk about what happened,” Valentine muttered, mostly to themself. Cody heard them shifting around in the other confessional booth, like they were getting comfortable. “Okay, keep going. What happened next?”

Cody paused, trying to get back on track. This was the part of the story he actually remembered.

“Well, John and I ran across half the States trying to get away from Ethan,” he said. “And then we met up with this other crime boss who we did a job for, so he was going to help us get rid of Ethan. But it didn’t work. Not the way it was supposed to, anyway.” Cody frowned, remembering the standoff in Old Problem. It was hazy in his mind’s eye, like he had been somewhere outside of himself. “The Dead-Eyes decided they were done trying to chase me, and they made Ethan leave with them.”

“Even though he was their leader?” Valentine asked, sounding fascinated.

“Yeah,” Cody said. He wondered how the rest of the Dead-Eyes were doing, and if they were already back in Oregon. No doubt they were, by now. Had they dissolved the gang, or decided on a new leader? Did they even know that Ethan was dead?

“So then what?” Valentine prompted.

“Uh, we thought it was over,” Cody said. Remembering what had happened next made a flush rise to his face. “John and I kept going, to the Mississippi. And I realized that I, uh…”

He trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to put the realization into words. He hadn’t known what to call it then, when he’d first felt it. Still didn’t. All he could think to do was ask to kiss John, and hope that John, somehow, had known what he’d been trying to say.

“You’re in love with him,” Valentine supplied, as easily as if they were talking about the weather.

“I - yeah,” Cody said. It was easier than trying to deny it - and why try to deny something that was true, anyway? Especially in front of a reverend. He hadn’t thought about his feelings for John as love, not until this very moment, but Valentine saying it felt like a puzzle piece sliding into a spot that had been waiting for it all along. Like the satisfying click of a key in a lock. He loved John. He was in love with John.

So why couldn’t he fucking say so out loud?

“It was pretty obvious,” Valentine said, answering a question Cody hadn’t thought to ask.

“Cool,” he replied, embarrassed, feeling the flush creeping steadily up the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, just breathing for a moment, reminding himself that there was no one else to hear what he was saying except himself, Valentine, and the angel carving on the door. “So. I asked if I could kiss him. And then we kissed. And then he got...weird about it. And I thought - maybe I did something wrong, or he didn’t want it after all. Because John’s so quiet...it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. I never know if he’s sad, or angry…” Cody trailed off. “I don’t think this was anything like that, but I...I don’t know.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Valentine asked. Their voice was a little gentler now, like this was about more than a good story.

“Not really,” Cody admitted. He’d spoken to John since they’d gotten to the convent, of course, but the kiss had hung between them undiscussed, like a hot piece of metal neither of them wanted to try to pick up and handle.

“It’s frustrating,” he said, filling the silence when Valentine didn’t. “I feel like I fucked things up with him. Like I ruined my chance. But I don’t know how to tell him that, or ask him how he’s feeling, because he might just not say anything. And I don’t know what to do with that. And now I can’t find him anywhere, and I’m - I’m scared.” He swallowed. He hadn’t known that was what he was feeling, exactly, until he’d said it aloud. “I’m scared that something else happened to him, and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him at the convent,” Valentine said, sternly. “We’re the safest place in this whole city. You’ll find him. And when you do, you should tell him how you feel.”

“Okay,” Cody said, because he didn’t feel like he could disagree without starting an argument.

“Why are you scared about something happening to him?” Valentine asked. “Because he got shot when you were on the road together?”

“Right,” Cody said, realizing that he hadn’t finished his story, and had stopped just before the hard part. He swallowed again, harder. “I guess Ethan followed us to the river, because when we were there...well, he showed up with a rifle, and he shot John. He was trying to kill him. So he could take me back to Oregon with him. Alone.”

He paused, waiting for Valentine to ask something, anything; or to cut in with some sort of witty comment. But they were quiet. If he hadn’t been able to see their profile through the window, Cody might have thought he was alone.

“But I...I got mad,” he said. This was the first time he’d spoken about what had happened by the river in so many words, to anyone. Val and Friday had gotten the barest bones of the story, and hadn’t asked to be told twice. John...John hadn’t asked anything at all about what had happened.

“Ethan grabbed me. And I fought him,” Cody went on. Again, his memories felt like he was seeing what had happened from somewhere outside of himself, a bird’s eye view. “I wanted to tell him all the stuff I’d been holding back, about how much I hated him. About how I don’t think he was ever really my friend. But I knew - I knew whatever I said, he wouldn’t listen. And that John was hurt.” He took a breath, ignoring the hitch in his chest that promised tears. He hadn’t cried since before he’d fled Oregon. “So I didn’t say anything, and I got the pistol out of my bag, and I shot him.”

Valentine was still quiet. Then, after what felt like minutes, they spoke.

“How did you feel about killing him?”

“Bad,” Cody said, instantly. “Well - sort of. I feel bad that I had to kill him, but not bad that I did it. I think the only way he was gonna stop coming after me was if someone killed him. And I think he was gonna keep hurting people ‘til that happened. Like a rabid dog.”

A rabid dog had come through Levering once, and had bit one of the older Dead-Eyes, back when Ethan’s aunt Edie had run the gang. Cody remembered that Edie had put a bullet in the dog, then a bullet in the Dead-Eye who’d been bitten, and had said it was so neither of them needed to suffer long. Plenty of people had suffered because of Ethan.

“Do you think I did the right thing?” he asked. He hadn’t wanted to ask anyone else, because he knew that John, Val, and Friday would all tell him he had done the right thing, even if they privately thought he hadn’t. But Valentine was a stranger, and a reverend, which meant they had not only their own opinion, but a general idea of God’s.

“Well, murder is a mortal sin,” Valentine began, slowly. “There’s really no way around that. It’s in the Ten Commandments. But if you’re asking me, personally, I think it sounds like you took it upon yourself to take some wickedness out of the world. I can’t really say what you did was right, but I think...well, I think it sounds like you stopped a lot more people from being hurt, and a lot more churches from being burned.”

Cody nodded to himself. Valentine’s answer was complicated, but it felt more like what he’d wanted than a simple “yes” or “no”. A complicated answer for a complicated problem. He liked the thought that killing Ethan had stopped more people from being hurt, which was something no one else had told him.

“Thanks,” he said. “For being honest.”

“I try,” Valentine said, and he saw them grin on the other side of the small window. “Is that the end of your story?”

“Pretty much,” Cody said. “Val and Friday found us and brought us here. And you know what happened after that. And now John’s missing.”

“He’s not missing, you just haven’t found him yet,” Valentine said, practically. It sounded a little silly, but hearing it put that way made Cody feel just a bit better. Talking to Valentine had that effect, apparently.

“I should go back to looking for him,” he said.

“Sure,” Valentine said. “I should go give Valerie my condolences about his church. Do you feel like you’ve said everything you need to?”

Cody looked away from the small window, and towards the dark confessional door. He felt a little lighter than he had when he’d sat down, like a pressure had been taken off his chest. Like he could see clearly, even in the dark.

“I think so,” he said, finally.

“Then go look for your boy,” Valentine told him. “And, for what it’s worth? I’ll put in that good word for you, but I think you’re gonna be fine even without it.”

10.6 || 10.8

[darks-ink]

What A Nice Surprise CH.5

Sadly linebreaks are still gone from Tumblr so I went with (---) instead. Check it out via one of the mirror links instead, maybe?

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter AO3 - FFnet

Danny capped the Thermos in his hand, releasing a tired sigh. The ghost – some random non-intelligent wolf – hadn’t been strong, but it had proven exceptionally tricky to catch. Kept giving him the slip and was just fast enough for Danny to struggle to close the distance between them.

But, finally, he got it. And it wasn’t even that late. Late in the evening, sure, but if he went home he would still have time to work on his homework!

He grinned at the Thermos in his hand, pleased. Just to be safe, though, he cast out his ghost sense. No, it seemed like this was the only ghost nearby…

An ectoblast whizzed by his ear, and Danny flinched away. Whirled around to face the shooter.

Valerie. Of course it was Valerie. His one opponent that he couldn’t just blast, the one that just wouldn’t believe him. Whose truces just wouldn’t hold up, for no lack of trying on his part.

Valerie, who always insisted on seeing the evil Phantom did.

“Hey Red,” he said, shooting her a short wave. She just growled in response, charging another shot.

“Not very talkative today, are we?” he tried again, keeping his hands lifted and in plain view. Hopefully she would calm down a little like this, if she knew he couldn’t fight back.

And, well. If she shot anyway, he could easily raise a shield like this.

“Shut up,” she snarled, and her gun fired simultaneously. Danny yelped and formed a shield.

It blocked the hit, but the impact still blasted him back. He hit a building, hard.

With a groan he dropped down onto the ground. Half-crumpled, he tried to sit up to keep an eye on Valerie.

“Come on,” he complained, trying to keep the winded tone out of his voice. “What did I do now?”

She re-entered his view. Her board hovered only a foot above the ground, yet she hadn’t retracted it. The gun in her hand whined as it loaded another shot.

“You know what you did.” Her voice was firm. Unwavering. “Why I can’t trust you.”

“I really don’t.” He judged her hold on the gun, her aim. Braced himself, then shot a weak ectoblast right at the weapon.

The blast knocked her aim off, and the blast barely missed him.

Danny pushed himself off of the ground, zipping away. He just needed to throw her off of his tail – or to get out of her sight long enough to change back to human. He would risk walking home instead of flying if that got rid of her.

But her hoverboard has had some upgrades. And with Valerie’s agility, it was almost enough to keep up with him.

Certainly good enough to keep him in her eyesight.

He dove around a corner, then screeched to a halt to avoid collision. In front of him stood two more ghost hunters, guns aimed right at him. The ecto-green elements glowed as the guns charged. Light glinted off of the goggles of the hunters, the red of the woman and the teal of the man.

Then the guns stopped whining, and Danny huffed out a relieved sigh.

“Phantom!” his dad greeted, pulling his hood off and revealing the bright blue eyes underneath. “You’re in a rush! Chasing a ghost?”

“Uh, no.” Before he could explain further, his sensitive ears picked up on the ever-present hum of Valerie’s engines. And yep, there she was, rounding the corner he had just careened past.

“Phantom!” she roared, already lifting her gun up to shoot him. He yelped – in a very grown-up way, of course – and dove behind the massive bulk of his dad.

It was, maybe, an automatic response. These were his parents – it was their duty to keep him safe. Big and apparently powerful ghost hunting weapons definitely counted as a threat they would keep him safe from.

But having Phantom hide behind Fenton’s parents… might not have been the right thing to do.

Oh well, too late to turn back now.

Valerie faltered. The whine of her gun quieted, and its muzzle lowered. No matter the circumstances, Valerie would not – could not – shoot humans.

“Phantom, why are you hiding behind ghost hunters?” she asked, exasperated. Then, after a short pause, she turned to his parents. “Actually, why are you letting him?”

“Because… we don’t want you to shoot him?” Jack said, uncertainly. He was half-turned, looking between Danny and Valerie. “Phantom is not a bad ghost, Red.”

She snorted, disbelieving. “Yeah, right. You just want him for yourself.”

“We’re serious.” His mom shifted into a more defensive pose. It didn’t go unnoticed by Danny – and clearly not by Valerie either. Danny got the distinct feeling that Val was narrowing her eyes at them, but he couldn’t tell with her helmet still on. “We’ve had a truce with Phantom for weeks. He’s been helping us with our research.”

“He’s tricking you somehow.” Valerie shook her head, dismissively. “Or he’s controlling you, or something. There’s no way that he– that any of this is real. I’m not falling for this, Phantom.”

She raised the gun again, tilting her head as if she was considering taking the shot. Then she apparently decided it was impossible with the Fentons between them, as she lowered it again. She pointed between the visor of her helmet – where her eyes would be – and him. “I don’t trust you, Phantom. And I don’t know what you’re doing here, with the Fentons. But I don’t believe any of this.”

Then, with a hum that turned into a roar, she shot off. Her engines left a faint pink trail, but it faded off quickly.

Confident that she really had left, Danny floated back over his parents to face them.

“Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I, uh. Sorry that she didn’t believe you.”

“She really doesn’t like you, huh?” His mom eyed him, but he couldn’t read her expression with her goggles on. “Yet you don’t seem like the type to do so on purpose.”

He snorted, then shook his head. Dropped his hand again. “I didn’t, I swear! But Cujo just ruined some of her things, and she thinks that he’s my dog so she blames me for it.”

“That’s one hell of a grudge.” But she pulled the goggles up again, and Danny could see that she wasn’t angry – not at him, at least. “Must’ve been important to her.”

“I dunno.” Danny shrugged. Yes, Valerie’s money had been important to her at the time, but now? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t spend a lot of time with her anymore, not after the dating fiasco a while back. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just full of spite and not ready to give up on her decisions.”

His dad snorted, but wiped the smile of his face immediately when Maddie turned to him. “Yes, well. I thought you two worked together before?”

“We have,” Danny acknowledged with another shrug. “But it was always only short-term. A bigger ghost, a badder ghost. And then once the troubles are over, Val- Red decides I’m not to be trusted.”

His parents shared a glance, clearly having caught the trip. Dammit, Fenton, he chastised himself mentally, couldn’t even keep Valerie’s identity safe? But it was too late now. At least it wasn’t her full name – not even her full first name.

“That’s… unfortunate. In a city like this, we could really use all the help we can get hunting ghosts.” Maddie pocketed her gun in her hip holster. “But if Red continues to threaten our ally, we can’t consider her one either.”

“Maybe we can convince her,” his dad said hopefully. “It’ll take time, sure, but it’ll be worth it. Right, Phantom?”

“I, uh. I mean, yeah.” He shifted, a little awkward. “If you can convince her, that would be great, yeah.”

They nodded. Then his mom smiled at him. “And, Phantom? We’ll take over patrol for you, alright? So she won’t try to ambush you when you’re alone.”

He smiled back, brightly. “That’s… That’s really nice. Thanks. Thank you so much.” This way he could focus on homework without even having to worry about ghosts popping up!

“Hey, it’s no problem kid.” His dad shrugged, also grinning. “It’s our job, you know?”

“Right,” Danny said, hesitant. Of course. His parents’ job as ghost hunters.

Jack grimaced, then suddenly swung an arm around his shoulders. He pulled him against his side, despite the cold Danny knew he gave off. “Which also includes taking care of fellow ghost hunters, you know?” He ruffled Danny’s hair. “Like you.”

Cold crawled up Danny’s neck and cheeks, and he knew he was blushing green. Embarrassed, he looked away – but he couldn’t deny that he felt comforted nonetheless. “I– Thanks.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Jack released Danny again, but remained close. “Go do… whatever you do when you’re not protecting the city. Be a kid, Phantom. You’ve earned it.”

Ha! Be a kid. Doing homework counted as being a kid, he supposed. “Yeah. I… Yeah. Thanks, you two.”

Danny smiled at his parents, then tugged on his invisibility. Certain that no one could see him anymore, he made his way back home.

The warm feeling in his chest remained with him for the rest of the night.

---

Mere days later, it was the weekend again. And, once again, Danny had made plans to visit his parents as Phantom. They had been busy this week – not with regular ghost hunting stuff, but with him, specifically. With finding ways to prove that Phantom wasn’t as bad as people believed.

With proving to Valerie that he wasn’t all that bad.

So. Danny figured that they deserved a reward of sorts. A show of appreciation – even if they couldn’t really know it was supposed to be that, because Phantom had no way of knowing how much they were doing.

He rang the doorbell, then phased inside immediately. He floated in the hallway instead. Floating outside his own house invisible was tiring, so he figured he could shake it up a little instead.

“Phantom?” an uncertain voice asked, and Danny’s eyes snapped to the staircase.

The staircase where Jazz stood. Whoops. He didn’t know she was home.

“Hey,” he said, shooting her a grin that he hoped wasn’t shaky. “D’you mind if I steal your parents?”

She snorted, coming down the staircase to join him. “They could use some time outside the lab. What are you planning on doing with them?”

“There’s this ghost in Casper High, dunno if you’ve heard of him.” The two of them entered the living room, and Jazz sat down on one of the armchairs, then nodded that she was still listening. “The two of us have a deal. I took your parents to meet them a week or two ago, but we had to cut it off early. I figured we could go for a second meeting.”

“Sidney Poindexter, right?” Jazz frowned, thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of him, but I wasn’t sure if he was real. Lots of people say he is – that he hurts random popular people around Casper High, and all that.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He knew they said that – but he also knew it was a lie. Or a twisted truth, at least.

“Sort of,” he told his sister instead. “Sidney hates bullies – was bullied pretty much all his life, and his afterlife isn’t much better. And, well. Most popular kids are bullies, and vice versa.”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded. “He picks on bullies and protects their victims because he used to be a victim himself. He empathizes. Fascinating… Ghosts really do have the same emotional range as humans.”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny shrugged, glancing away. “People just don’t realize it because of biased science by ghost hunters, and because most ghosts that leave the Zone are, well.” He gestured vaguely. “Y’know.”

“Violent and aggressive? Yeah, I know.” She smiled knowingly – teasingly – and Danny felt the green creep back onto his face. Stupid really obvious glowing blush! Stupid sister that did sister things.

In the silence that fell, Danny could clearly hear his parents scrambling around downstairs. They probably had a project they couldn’t just put down. That was fine. He could wait.

“Could I… come along?” Jazz asked, breaking the silence again. Danny’s eyes snapped over to her, surprised by the question.

“I, uh. Why?”

She shrugged, playing with a strand of her hair. Seemed uncertain now, like her question was more of a spontaneous outburst than properly thought out.

“I think it would be interesting to talk with… Sidney, right?” At his confirming nod, she continued. “Plus, he could use the socializing with more people his age. I don’t think a lot of kids at school talk with him.”

“They don’t.” He supposed Jazz was right. And Sidney would absolutely enjoy her company – they were both complete nerds. “And I guess you’re right. Sid would enjoy the company. Just be aware that he slips into old-timey ways sometimes. Mostly speech, but…” Danny shrugged. “Well, you get what I mean, right?”

“I do.” Jazz gestured over to the couch, and with a roll of his eyes, Danny perched on the arm of the couch. Not quite was Jazz had intended, based on her expression, but good enough. “Plus, I think he could use some psychiatric help. Bullying… it can hurt teenagers.”

“I know.” Danny sighed heavily. Despite Dash’s love of Phantom, his bullying towards Fenton hadn’t relented. And with his diminished friendship with Sam and Tucker, he had less hope of them distracting Dash. The only thing he had going for him was his supernatural speed – and his ability to turn invisible if he could get out of Dash’s sight.

But the way she eyed him made him think he said something wrong. Slowly, hesitantly, she asked, “You were bullied?”

Danny shrugged, uncertain. It was true, sure. But it wasn’t something he wanted associated with Phantom, per se.

“I… yeah.” He couldn’t think of a way to deny it. Might as well go with the flow, right? “A lot, actually. But it’s okay. Well, not okay, but… it is what it is. There is no way to change it.” The teachers never listen, anyway. Even if it’s still ongoing, even if it���s happening right in front of them. Bullies were never punished.

It was part of the reason why he was so eager to let Sidney have his way.

The calculating look in Jazz’s eyes didn’t go away. But her eyes did soften, and she smiled kindly. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“About?” He frowned, confused. How did this change anything?

“About you.” She shifted, looking at him earnestly. “I was wondering about that for a while, you see. Because even if you’re not the only good ghost, you certainly are the only one here. And you said you did it to protect your friends, your family, but…” The pluck of hair was twisted, twirled, again. “But there had to be more. More of a reason, more stakes.”

“What, the risk of my loved ones getting injured wasn’t enough?” Danny’s frown deepened as he looked at her.

“No, no.” She raised her hands placatingly. “That’s not what I mean. But not just anyone would do that, Phantom. Not just anybody would stand up to someone more experienced, and likely more powerful, than them just to protect others. But it makes sense now.”

The frown fell away, and Danny shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s easy. You were bullied in life. A lot, right?” The armchair creaked as she shifted again, her hands waving through the air as she spoke enthusiastically. “So now, in death, you have the power to stand up for yourself. But you don’t just use it for yourself. You use it for everyone, everyone who can’t do it themselves. The ghosts, the malevolent ones, are the bullies. And now you are the person you wished had been there for you, before. The person who stops the bullies, who stops people from getting hurt.”

“Oh,” he said simply. She… she had a point. Looking at it this way, he supposed that he had become the kind of person he wished to see sometimes. Like he had grabbed all the traits of the people he loved – of his parents and his friends – and mashed them together into Phantom’s perfect persona.

“You’re… really good at that.” He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Count on Jazz to psycho-analyze him regardless of form, and nail it as well. “Yeah, you should definitely come along and meet Sidney.”

She grinned in response, opening her mouth to reply. But then thundering footsteps came from the lab, and their parents burst inside.

“Phantom!” his dad cheerily greeted, storming over to swing an arm around him. “Sorry to keep you waiting, kid!”

“It’s alright.” He grinned despite the rib-crushing strength of his dad, barely clinging on to the couch he was sat on. “Jazz kept me company.”

“Really now?” Jack released him, then turned to look at Jazz. “Jazzy-Pants, how nice of you! Finally showing an interest in our profession, huh?”

“The psychology behind ghosts is fairly interesting – and unexplored.” Jazz shrugged casually. “You, and all other ghost hunters, are so focused on the physical aspect that no one even realized that ghosts were just as complex as humans. It’s really fascinating stuff.”

Their mom nodded approvingly. “Yes, you’re completely right. You should come down in the lab to talk about your findings sometimes, honey. If you get it sorted out, you could even publish a paper!”

“Maybe…” Jazz’s expression was surprisingly thoughtful. She really seemed to be considering it, despite her former reluctance to associate with her parents – and ghosts in general. “I would like to focus on individual ghosts first, see if I can help them with their problems.”

“A whole new approach to ghost hunting!” Jack clapped her on the shoulder, and Jazz almost fell out of her chair. “That’s my kid!”

Maddie shook her head fondly, then turned back to Danny. “What earned us the pleasure of your visit today, Phantom? Dropping by for fun, or did you need us for something?”

“I figured we could go for another meeting with Sidney?” He shrugged. “Since we had to leave early last time. And Jazz said she was interested in meeting him as well, so.”

“Well, that sounds like a good plan.” Maddie nodded approvingly. “He was a nice young man, that’s for sure. Will we meet him in the parking lot again?”

“I thought we could meet in the courtyard instead? I’ll fly ahead to find him, and then we can sit down instead of standing around.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “If that’s okay, of course.”

“Sounds good to me. Jack, Jazz?” She turned to face the rest of the family, where Jazz was trying to free herself from her dad’s arm. “That okay with you as well?”

Jack, who didn’t seem to have heard any of the conversation, cheerfully agreed nonetheless. “Yeah, of course!”

“That’s okay with me as well.” Danny finally took mercy on Jazz and pulled their dad’s arm off of her so she could escape. She shot him a grateful look, and he grinned in return.

“Then I’ll get going.” Danny pushed himself off of the couch, floating instead. “If you guys pick a spot, Sidney and I will find you.”

“See you in a bit, Phantom!” his dad boomed, the sound following him even when he phased outside.

---

Finding his parents (and Jazz) proved as easy as he had expected. Besides the fact that the three of them were the only ones out here on a Saturday afternoon, two of them were also dressed in bright hazmat.

Yeah, the day Danny couldn’t find his parents in a crowd was probably the day he would officially declare himself blind.

He took a non-existent seat at the head of the table, floating in the open space in a sitting position. Sidney took the only actual free seat, next to Jazz.

“Didn’t keep you waiting, did we?” he asked, glancing at his family.

“You didn’t, no worries.” His mom flapped a hand, leaving the other resting on the hard wooden table. “We just sat down. Sidney, nice to see you again.”

The ghost grinned back. “You as well, madam. And you too, sir.” Then the boy turned to Jazz, straightening his glasses. “And I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet, miss.”

“I’m Jazz. Jazz Fenton.” She extended her hand, and they shook. “You’re Sidney Poindexter, right?”

“That I am,” he confirmed, straightening his bow tie. “Has Phantom introduced me?”

“He has. But I heard about you at school as well.” She twisted in her seat to face him properly. “According to Phantom, you help protect the kids who can’t protect themselves.”

Sidney blushed, his cheeks growing marginally darker and faintly green. “Ah, yes, well. I try my best.”

“And you do a good job of it, especially considering your past.” Smiling, she pushed herself out of her seat. “Speaking of which… Would you mind sitting down to talk in private?”

“Um.” Sidney glanced between her and Danny. Knowing what Jazz was trying to achieve, Danny nodding reassuringly.

“Sure,” Sidney said, floating up as well. “Shall we take a seat at a nearby table, then, so your parents won’t get worried?”

“Sounds good.” Jazz turned back to the Fentons. “We’ll be just over there, okay?”

“Sure sweetie.” Maddie smiled, and the three of them watched as Sidney and Jazz left. Once they were sure that the two were out of earshot, Maddie sighed, pleased. “We don’t deserve her.”

“She’s a good person,” Danny agreed, also looking at his sister and his friend. “She’ll do a lot of good things with her life, I’m sure.”

“I just… worry, sometimes.” Maddie shifted, and Danny looked back at her, confused. “About both our kids, I mean. I… We know we’re not the most conventional parents. And sometimes, I fear… I’m afraid that we’re hurting them.”

She sighed, deeply and wearily. Jack wrapped an arm around her before she continued. “Especially with how busy we’ve gotten nowadays. And Jazz will be going to college soon, and Danny is growing apart from us as well, spending less and less time with us… And I can’t help but worry. Are we doing the right thing?”

“I think…” Danny swallowed, heavily, then tried again. “I think you’re doing your best, and I think your kids know it. Parenting… Parenting isn’t easy, and neither are teenagers.” He huffed out a laugh. “Being a teen isn’t easy either. But I’m sure your kids know that you’re trying, and… and I wouldn’t worry so much. Everything will be okay.”

Maddie nodded, and her gloved hand wrapped around Danny’s. “It’s a parent’s job to worry, Phantom. Just because it’s not necessary doesn’t mean I can stop.”

But she smiled, kindly. “But… thank you. Hearing that helps a lot.”

“I’m glad to be able to help.” Danny glanced back to where Jazz and Sidney sat, and felt his own lips twist up. “And I think your daughter is doing the same for Sidney.”

---

“What, um.” Sidney paused, uncertain. Sure, Danny seemed to approve of this conversation but Sidney had no clue what the intention had been. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally reveal his friend’s secret identity.

And, above all, how were you supposed to talk to the sister of your best friend if she didn’t know that her brother was the best friend of a ghost or that he was part ghost himself?

“What did I want to talk about?” Jazz smiled kindly. Sidney would be lying if he said it didn’t help soothe him. “Phantom mentioned something interesting about your past earlier today, and I wanted to talk with you about it.”

So… nothing about Danny’s secret identity? Oh, good.

“Oh. What, uh. What was it?” He couldn’t deny being curious. And… perhaps he did miss talking to other teenagers. Danny was nice, but they weren’t very similar. But Danny had often compared Sidney to his sister – said they were both studious nerds, and all that.

Jazz shifted, laying her arms on the table on front of her. Sidney had sat down on the bench in front of her, but was now growing increasingly uncertain at her relentless gaze.

“According to Phantom, you used to be bullied, back when you were alive.” Oh. Oh. Was this what she wanted to talk about? Seeing his probably panicked expression, Jazz continued to speak with a soothing tone. “Bullying… It can have a heavy impact on a teenager. And, I don’t know if you know this, but I have… a bit of an interest in psychology.”

This, Sidney did know. Danny griped about it a lot. That, and he joked about it a lot – about how Jazz would be thrilled if she found out about the Phantom thing, from a psychological standpoint.

“I think few would know that better than I,” he ended up saying. After all, of the many that had suffered from bullying, most didn’t stick around. Not like he had. “That’s why I protect the kids now. To make sure none suffer like I have.”

She seemed saddened by this knowledge, catching on the unsaid words. “That’s really noble of you, Sidney. But…” Jazz shifted, folding her hands together in front of her. “But you’re still around, so your old experiences can still hurt you. Are still hurting you, I think.”

“Maybe so,” he acknowledged with a loose shrug. He supposed that he was catching onto Danny’s manner of speech, but it was to be expected. The kid was pretty much the only person he spoke to, nowadays. “Most ghosts are still hurt by their old lives. It’s why they stick around as ghosts, you know? Happy people don’t become ghosts.”

“Then all of those ghosts deserve help. And I don’t know if I can help all of them, but you, you I can help.” She grabbed his hand, ignoring that the limb must’ve felt uncomfortably cold in her hand. He couldn’t help but lock eyes with her, the bright teal gazing back. “Sidney, your experiences have been hard and unkind. Traumatizing, even. Please, let me help.”

“I…” He didn’t know where he wanted to go with this. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Didn’t know what to think.

What did it say about his life, that he was caught off-guard so badly by such a kind offer.

“I would really appreciate that,” he managed finally. “I… Besides Phantom, no one has ever… just been kind. There was always a plot behind it, or a trick, or… or something else. Never out of the kindness of one’s heart.”

Something about the Fentons, despite how strange they were, worked. Because both their children were so wonderful.

It made Sidney sad, sometimes, that no one knew what Danny really did. What he was really like. That no one appreciated Danny Fenton, because he could do more good as Phantom – and he was okay with that. With sacrificing everyone’s opinions of him, just for that.

“Good,” Jazz said with a firm nod. She released his hand, but patted the top of it comfortingly. “And if you ever want to talk… Well, I’ll be around for the rest of the school year for sure.”

“You don’t… mind? That people would see you talk with a ghost?” ‘With me’ went unsaid.

But Jazz just shrugged. “People know my family as those ghost-nuts anyway. It’s much better now that everyone knows ghosts really exist.” Her lip twisted into a smile. “Besides, people don’t get to pick and choose which ghosts they accept. If they are fine with people talking to Phantom, then they don’t get to throw a fuss about me talking to you.”

“But what if they do?” He didn’t want her to get punished because of him. He was just… He was just Sidney. Nobody special, even after death.

“I don’t care.” She looked firm, set in her ways. “They don��t get to decide what I do with my life, and who I talk with. And if the teachers get worried, I can tell them that my parents and Phantom both approve of you. That should get them off my back.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t… wasn’t used to anyone making such an effort for him. Danny tried, usually, but Danny was busy. Had a lot going on for him. Which was why Sidney tried to help to the best of his abilities, of course, but.

But this was different. Nice different.

“Um. Thank you.” He smiled at her, shaky and uncertain but heartfelt. “Really, thank you.”

Then he glanced over to the other table, seeing three pairs of eyes watching them. “But we should probably rejoin the others.”

“Yeah, probably,” she said with a laugh. “But seriously, Sidney. Talk to me, okay?”

He nodded. Then, the words slipping out without him fully intending to, he said, “You can call me Sid. If you want.”

“Sid?” Her smile widened. “Yeah, of course. Now come on, Sid, before they get worried.”

[kootenaygoon]

So,

Before changing ownership a decade previous, Tony’s Taphouse had been a biker bar called the Civic. Notorious for its rough clientele and routine bouts of violence, and for harbouring regulars who acted like nocturnal animals, most locals knew it as the Zoo. It had been the preferred haunt for the Hell’s Angels, who had long since been banned from the premises. 

“It took us a long time to turn things around,” my boss told me one night, while I manned the door for a Val Kilmer and the New Coke concert. A crowd of twenty-somethings were smoking all around us.

“Whenever we tried to get people to behave they’d say ‘don’t you know this is the Zoo?’ And I would say ‘yes, and I’m the new zookeeper’.”

My boss reminded me of a small child in an enormous body, slightly immature and with a propensity for breaking stuff. He had a reputation for overdoing things, to the point that the Nelson Police Department had nailed him for multiple assault charges. The other bouncers told me he was well known for choke-slamming unruly patrons into unconsciousness, which was the reason he was no longer allowed to assist us when we ejected the city’s shitheads and drunks. The guy was easily 300 pounds, and scary as hell when provoked. The rest of the time he was an amiable teddy bear, quick to laugh and always game to sing “Chocolate Salty Balls” from South Park at karaoke, much to the chagrin of his embarrassed wife. 

Most of my shifts were spent alongside a fellow ginger beard named Luke who liked playing bad cop to my good cop. During the day he worked at a pet food store, and he was well-known as a huge softie when it came to animals. While I had a tendency to treat Tony’s like my own personal Cheers, he was monosyllabic and ominous. Late into the night we would hang by the entrance swapping jokes and taking turns shovelling back lettuce wraps and chicken strips, clad in all black.

Eventually I suggested we should update our uniforms. There was a local barber named Chris Brach who bounced at Spiritbar and I admired how he dressed and carried himself like an old-school gentleman. We ultimately settled on matching vests with dress button-down shirts, with each bouncer choosing their favourite colour. I chose a blood red that was almost purple, while Luke went with sky blue. Eventually the whole team adopted this new look, making the whole place that much classier. 

Working at Tony’s gave me a whole new perspective on Nelson. I knew who was doing drugs, who was cheating on their spouse, and who was banned from the premises until they came grovelling back to the owners. The Nelson Leafs were preening and omnipresent as peacocks, and in the early hours of the evening I’d encounter the more wholesome members of society as they engaged in events like paint night. Sometimes people would approach me with the latest issue of the Nelson Star, commenting on stories or complimenting me on the cover photo. The print edition was becoming increasingly irrelevant, but Tony’s was one of the few places I could regularly see people consuming it alongside their beer.

From where we stood during our shifts, we looked out at a sports bar that took up the ground floor of the Adventure Hotel. Because we were open later than any other establishment in Nelson, we would watch as the late night crowd funnelled in our direction. Crowds of drunk twenty-somethings would march diagonally across the intersection, ignoring the cross-walks, and it was our job to interpret whether or not they could come into Tony’s based on their lurching gait. Some would nod solemnly when we denied them access, while others would whip themselves into deranged frenzies. They would scream their threats to the uncaring black sky, or demand to talk to the owners. These people pissed me off.

“You’re a good bouncer and everyone loves you, but the other staff have told me you have a tendency to go from zero to sixty pretty quick,” my other boss told me, during a performance review. She was the owner.

“We don’t think it’s a problem, but it’s something we want you to watch out for. Obviously this job can be stressful at times, so it’s up to you to keep your temper in check. It’s about customer service.”

Though there were plenty of threats of violence at Tony’s, it was rare that we actually had to put our hands on people. Most were cowed into submission by our size, and knew they had to play nice if they wanted continued access to the bar. We tried to kill them with kindness, calling them cabs and reassuring them that they’d be welcomed back once they sobered up. More than once I found myself consoling despondent drunks who were horrified by their own behaviour, going through a break-up, or grieving. Some were so confused and inebriated they didn’t know how to get home. I came to love these idiots, or at least most of them, because I considered them part of the Tony’s family.

The most interesting employee was a behemoth brute named Gordo, a holdover from the days of the Zoo, who looked exactly like a bearded Bobby Baccala. The female staff adored him because of his gentle, benevolent presence. He made people feel safe. He wasn’t a bouncer anymore because, like my boss, he’d gone overboard a few too many times. He lived downstairs and oversaw the daily operations, and was only called to help during emergencies. He was the type of guy you didn’t want to fuck with, ever. He loved Tony’s and everyone on staff intensely, and if violence was needed he was more than capable of dispensing it. I’d never met someone with such a fascinating mix of kindness and malevolence to his personality, and I admired how effectively he funnelled his anger in appropriate directions.

One night, during a slow period, he stood out on the street and regaled me with stories of his bouncing days in Toronto. During those years he’d been stabbed and shot multiple times, a fact he delivered with a shy chuckle.

“This one guy was shaking my hand, right? And with his other hand he stabbed me right here,” Gordo said, pointing to his rib cage.

“So I pulled him close to me and snapped his elbow backwards, just like this.”

Gordo recreated the scene with a smile on his face, demonstrating how the guy’s arm had bent the wrong way while the bones snapped and popped. He’d regained control of the situation while the knife was still plunged hilt-deep into his side. He laughed and wiped his eyes, remembering.

“I was a lot bigger back then, if you can imagine that. So the knife didn’t end up doing much damage. It didn’t hit anything significant. Meanwhile this guy’s a puddle on the ground in front of me, whimpering like a little girl.”

When I wasn’t on the door, I would work my way slowly through the lounge area and out to the back patio where people were allowed to smoke. There was a row of comfortable couches and a long counter where people could pull up stools and drink under the gaze of Elephant Mountain. At times I couldn’t believe I was being paid to socialize, and the dance floor playlist introduced me to a new favourite artist: a young Swedish woman named Tove Lo. If we’re talking body, she sang, You got a perfect one so put it on me. If you do me right, we’ll fuck for life, on and on and on. 

Paisley had finally moved home to be with her parents, and her absence had proven to be a boon to my mental health. I still missed my dogs desperately but I was finally free to move on without her constant surveillance and gossip. I decided early on that I wouldn’t date anyone on staff, but there was no shortage of young women who would find excuses to linger by the door or stand outside smoking, sizing me up. Most nights I was still ending up at Natalya’s, where I would crawl into her bed and cap the night off with an early morning fuck in the dark. She’d leave her front door unlocked and we’d pant through our routine without speaking a word. She’d resigned herself to the fact I wasn’t interested in anything beyond that, and she never bothered me with small talk. We had what we had, and that was it.

The sleep deprivation involved with working at Tony’s ended up meaning that I spent most of my weekends asleep, recovering in Brendan’s basement and only leaving the house for necessities. Sunday was my only day off, and I needed that down time to get in the right headspace for the Star. I had a couple of ambitious series going on, including one about the Columbia River Treaty, and I needed my mental faculties operating properly to adequately approach these subjects. I could sense that Ed was growing tired of my rock star attitude and reluctance to put in a full 40-hour work week. I kept finding myself asking why I was still there, but I didn’t have another option available. Both jobs and housing were scarce in Nelson, and I was barely holding on.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I told my friend Tia one night. She worked at the Hume Hotel but had started her own business called Wurst Dog. We’d been discussing whether I could find some sort of entrepreneurial gig to transition to once I was finished with journalism.

“You just have to take a chance and jump, kid,” she said. “Then see where you land. I’m sure there’s all kinds of people in this town who would give you a job doing social media or something.”

“Or maybe I could be a full-time bouncer and write on the side? Finally finish my manuscript? I dunno.”

Tia smiled and mussed my hair.

“I believe in you,” she said. “You’ve got this.”

The Kootenay Goon

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

D&D - The Simplest of Legacies

My favorite thing about my Wednesday game is how our DM decided to rip all of our hearts out by hinging the entire game on the fact that our druid is desperate to get his husband back - the very same husband that is good, good friends with Val and Rona. (Or will be, in Rona’s case, since the Wednesday game takes place in an AU/future thing.) So I decided to write their first meeting, or at least some shape of it.

All this is to say that while this is technically a present for @kombits‘ birthday tomorrow, I’m posting it today because for MY birthday, I wanna see her read it. <3 Happy birthday~!

Around 2300 words.

Gavaar was home.

Fàilbhe had a certain affinity for recognizing the heavy boots crunching through underbrush, the low grumbling, the faint tingle of magic as the barrier around their shared cottage shifted and swayed. He would know it blindfolded and deafened, busy or at rest, in ten years or one hundred.

And that was why when Fàilbhe stepped outside to greet his husband, he did so with both hands clutched tight around his quarterstaff.

The two figures trailing behind Gavaar had the good sense to at least freeze as he appeared. One was a tiefling woman, shy a few of Gavaar’s many inches but built just as broadly, and covered from head to toe in a battered suit of plate. He could see the edge of a shield poking out from beneath the shimmering blue fabric her cloak, and she had one gauntleted hand hooked instinctively around the grip of the wicked looking trident on her waist.

The second figure barely reached the tops of his thighs, and Fàilbhe realized with a start that he might have missed her entirely if not for the pair of hounds that flanked her. She wore simple leather armor that even he couldn’t heard creaking, and walked with the aid of a gnarled wooden staff that withered to nothing at one end. At one shoulder, a mastiff hound eyed him warily; at the other, a bright green creature exactly halfway between a bush and a lap dog yipped excitedly at him. The halfling put an absent hand out to soothe the little beast, but her eyes were fixed on him, wide and green and glittering beneath a halo of flower-studded curls.

They eyed each other over for a long moment as Gavaar continued forward, either ignoring or fully immune to the thread of tension creeping through the clearing. He reached out and took Fàilbhe’s hand gently in his own, then turned and gestured back towards the tiefling behind him.

“Fàilbhe,” he said. “Val. We travel together once. Is old friend. Good woman.”

The tiefling cleared her throat and dropped into an embarrassed little half-bow, letting her hand fall from where it was hooked around her trident’s grip.

“Pleasure’s mine,” she said as she righted herself. Fàilbhe nodded slowly, stealing a sidelong look at Gavaar. Strangers wandering through the feywild were almost always a bad sign; it either meant that something had made them determined enough to brave it, or that something wasn't doing enough to scare them away. Still, Gavaar had a powerful sense for the good in people, and Fàilbhe was inclined to trust him with life, limb and humble home for all of the times he had proven himself right.

He still kept a tight grip on his quarterstaff as Gavaar shuffled past and waved them all inside though, just in case.

Inside, he made immediately for the back of the room, busying himself with tending the fire burning cheerfully away in the hearth, and the kettle beginning to sing above it. Its whistling joined a long, low one from the doorway as their guests shuffled in after him.

“Well this certainly is an upgrade from tents on traderoads,” he heard Val say, with surprisingly sincere approval. She ran a gauntleted hand over the flat of a nearby table and hummed. “You’ve taken to staying in houses now, or is this, ah, temporary lodgings?”

Gavaar looked up from setting his maul into its pegs on the wall and frowned. “Temporary? No. Why would I not stay with husband?”

Fàilbhe turned, kettle in hand, just in time to see the colorful flurry of emotions that crossed the tiefling’s face as she looked from him to Gavaar, and then back and forth a few more times for good measure.

“Husband,” she echoed after a moment. Gavaar nodded.

Another pause.

“So you got married, ceremony and all, and then just...didn’t say anything about it? Nothing at all? No invitation, no letter, no swooning declaration of love? Nothing?” She swung an arm out in a furious gesture towards the door. “Merciful gods man, we were walking through the woods for the better part of an hour! You might’ve at least mentioned it once!”

Gavaar didn’t flinch, but his eyes did widen the tiniest fraction of an inch at Val's growing indignation. “Was small. And you were traveling -”

“Well I’d have fronted the gold for one of those fancy magic scrolls if you’d given me half the chance!”

Fàilbhe felt a twinge of anger flicker to life in his chest at her tone, and tightened his grip on the kettle, but Gavaar seemed in no more immediate danger than he had before Val had started yelling. In fact, looking closer, Fàilbhe could see something almost good-natured in the way she jabbed a finger at him, and shouted around the rising corners of her mouth. It was a rough-hewn sort of thing, like stone chipped against stone, but he could see the shape of friendship in it now, and it doused his little fire in an instant.

He turned, still frowning, back to his tea, as the mostly one-sided argument continued with increasing intensity across the house. Eventually, he noticed that the halfling woman had moved away from the doorway and closer to the hearth, watching the fight with a passive sort of interest. Her gaze slid sideways as he looked up.

“They were like this most of the way in too, you know,” she said in stage whisper, smiling. “Your, ah, husband found us trying to get to Jacinto. Val isn’t terribly fond of of the feywild, but it was that or take the long way around, and neither of us like hardtack that much.” She gave the ongoing fight one last exasperated look, shrugged, then turned towards him and offered a hand. “Rona Greenbottle, by the way. It’s a pleasure.”

Fàilbhe eyed her over for a moment, then slowly bent down to take the offered hand. It nearly vanished into the width of his, but her grip was firm, and there was a force in her handshake that matched the shouting behind them.

“You’re a druid, aren’t you?” she asked, when he had recollected his thoroughly shaken hand. “I’m sorry if we were intruding. We were just trying to shave a few hours off of our journey. But don’t worry,” she added, as if anticipating the annoyed raise of his brow, “I walk very lightly. The path we took should be entirely undisturbed.”

She propped her hands proudly on her hips in a generous display of self-assurance that would have made Fàilbhe laugh if he wasn’t keenly aware of the heavy thud of armored boots a few feet away. He glanced pointedly over to where Val was standing nose to chest with Gavaar, then looked back with a raise of an eyebrow. Rona followed his gaze and wilted.

“Alright,” she admitted with a sheepish chuckle, “so maybe there’s some trampled undergrowth where the deer runs gave out. But that was all! Nothing chopped down or ruined permanently. And everything that got stomped on probably also got a nice reseeding from Rosie here.”

Fàilbhe narrowed his eyes in confusion just as a flash of green suddenly bounded up to Rona's feet. She scooped the little creature into her arms and hefted it up towards him like a parent showing off a particularly clever child.

“This,” she said proudly, “is Rosemary. Say hi, Rosie!”

The little beast yipped, its tiny front paws scrabbling on the grip Rona had taken beneath them as it struggled to get closer. It certainly had the look of a dog - albeit, one of the small, noble-bred sort that were meant to do nothing more strenuous than trot at a child’s heels - except that it was sculpted entirely from leaf and branch and the occasional dribble of thick, golden sap. Fascinated, Fàilbhe crouched down to get a better look.

“She’s an elemental,” Rona explained as she held Rosemary further towards him. ��One of the druid circles up north conjured her for me when I was...when we were looking for someone.” He glanced up as she stumbled on the words, but Rona’s eyes and attention were fixed pointedly elsewhere. “We’ve had her with us ever since.”

Carefully, Fàilbhe reached a hand out towards the little beast. It squirmed harder in Rona’s arms, and bunted its head against his fingertips the minute they were within reach. He felt his lips curl into a faint smile.

“There’s also Puddles,” Rona added, gesturing behind her to the mastiff still waiting at attention by the door, “but he’s not magical or anything. Just the best dog that anyone has ever had, ever.” The mastiff’s head shot up instantly at the childish slant in Rona’s voice, and the little stump of his tail began to wag so hard that his entire rump went with it. Fàilbhe tucked a little laugh behind a hand, struck suddenly by the strange lightness buzzing in his chest. For all of the shouting in his home, for all of the intruding in his woods, for the fact that a stranger had muscled in on his tea-making with small talk and a strange, bush-covered hound, he felt something nearly akin to fondness growing in him.

Suddenly invigorated, Fàilbhe waved to get Rona’s attention, then held a finger out to indicate that she wait a moment before rising and moving towards the sacks of flour gathered near the hearth. The rat that he had been tending was not difficult to find, tucked beneath one the sagging mound of burlap as he was, and skittered onto Fàilbhe’s hand with only minimal coaxing.

“Aww!” Rona was upon him the very moment he turned, pushing up onto her tiptoes as he carefully lowered his hand down to her height. “He’s adorable! But, uh…” She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You might wanna to keep him out of Val’s sight. I’ve gotten her okay with mice now, but she still has a thing about rats. And really good aim.”

Fàilbhe pulled the rat close to his chest in horror, and Rona did him the service of hiding her chuckle behind a hand before nodding towards the door.

“I did want to see more of the feywild anyway, though,” she said with a conspiratorial grin. “If you don’t mind taking him outside…?”

Quietly, far more quietly than Fàilbhe had ever thought possible, they tiptoed across the floor and out into the clearing surrounding the little cottage, chased by the sound of shouting and laughter behind them...

“Fàilbhe?”

Fàilbhe looked up with a start, yanked out of his reverie and back into the present by Mira suddenly leaning down across his field of vision. They were stopped along the roadside on the way back from the mountain aerie, resting the last bit of weakness out of their weary limbs and indulging in the sun after so many hours underground. Mira eased back, dropping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked. And then, softer, “Is it another fit?”

Behind her, he could see Zephyr suddenly stop mid-swig from her flask, and watch them both out of the corner of her eye.

He waved to assuage her fears - their fears really, but he kindly avoided acknowledging that Zephyr had feelings in public - then shook open the little leather book in his hands and wrote a single word into the margin.

“Memories,” Mira read quietly as he turned it around. Her face softened. “Good ones?”

Good, he thought, but gone. Good, but far, far away now. Good, but yet another reminder that there was more than one thing he could lose, if they failed.

He nodded, eventually, but the look on Mira’s face said that she knew exactly what he was thinking. She didn’t push the subject, though. Instead, the hand on his shoulder squeezed, just once, and then fell away as she went back to packing up their temporary camp. Zephyr lingered for a moment too, then took another swig - notably deeper than before - and moved to help her.

Fàilbhe sighed and tucked the book back into his pack, beginning to follow just as something warm and heavy dropped onto his thigh. He glanced down and found Delia staring up from where she had shoved her head into his lap, her dark eyes staring up at him around a fringe of white sclera in the perfect picture of mournful sorrow. She whined as he met her gaze, and nuzzled further up his leg.

Shaking his head and trying his damndest not to smile, Fàilbhe sank back down into his seat and slipped a gentle hand beneath her head. Her tail wagged as he did, taking her whole rump with it, and an echo of that strange, buzzing lightness suddenly swelled in his chest, unbidden and warm as a hearth fire.

He stole a furtive glance back towards Mira and Zephyr. They seemed entirely absorbed in their work though, their heads bent close together in a quiet conversation that he didn't have to hear to know the shape of. Slowly, Fàilbhe turned back to where Delia’s head rested heavily in his hands and summoned up the first little threads of his magic.

Delia, he thought as it reached for her mind, and watched as her ears suddenly pricked upright. In a moment, she was back on all four paws, panting and wagging her tail in furious excitement, and this time, Fàilbhe’s smile came too quickly to hide. He ruffled her ears and thought, as loudly as he could manage, the only thing that made sense with the familiar warmth pounding away in his chest.

Just the best dog that anyone has ever had, ever.

[cupidsbower]

Let me tell you people that I found a new way

Supernatural 13x06, “Tombstone,” 13x07, “War of the Worlds,” and 13x08, “The Scorpion and the Frog.”

Something very interesting is happening this season, relating to Dean’s position in the narrative. Over the course of 13 seasons, it’s been proven over and over that Dean’s hunches tend to be right. He thinks someone’s a rotter, and they are a rotter. He thinks something’s hinky and it is hinky. He does sometimes make mistakes, but generally speaking, when Dean makes a moral pronouncement, he is right about the morality, even if events don’t play out the way he anticipates.

At the start of season 13, Dean made the moral pronouncement that he thought Jack was evil. He may still prove right about this of course, as the season is still young (for me, I know you are all far ahead), but so far it’s looking like he was wrong, and that Jack is more like a blank slate trying to figure out who he can be rather than intrinsically good or evil.

Does this matter? Does Dean’s hunch about Jack count in the same way it counted when Dean knew Ruby was rotten, but tried to give her the benefit of the doubt because Sam asked? When it comes to Jack, is this just Dean being a jackass due to grief and it’s not really what he thinks?

The tension arising from Dean’s distrust of Jack has so far been used to complicate Jack’s arc, but a larger thematic question arises. What does it mean for the story if Dean’s moral compass is wonky? And what does it mean if it’s not?

Okay, cards on the table. I think Dean is wrong about Jack. I’m sure Jack will do a bunch of stupid shit, because that’s how growing up works, but so far he doesn’t seem to be intrinsically evil. So why was Dean so insistent about it? Was it because Cas’s death had him so turned around his instincts were awry? But if that’s the case, you’d expect his instincts to be back to normal with Cas back... but the text is hinting that they’re not.

I enjoyed Tombstone. Cas is back, Dean plays cowboy, and Jack gets a hug, screws up, and runs away from home. All the drama!

Tombstone is a title with a lot of meanings. The primary meaning is the headstone on a grave, but in a text where cremation is the Hunter’s way, whose tombstone is it referring to? Is it literally just talking about the location of the ghoul’s lair? Or is it talking about Jack’s use of his powers that goes horribly wrong? Then there’s the movie reference. The film is the fictionalised (and often romanticised) story of the West... when “cowboys were the law”! And as we know, Dean is all about cowboys, especially the ones in the rogues gallery up on their hotel room wall. Later he prompts Cas to act like he’s in the movie, and Cas quotes Val Kilmer to assure Dean he’s his Huckleberry, which just about makes Dean tear up. All a boy wants is a partner who fondly goes along with his cosplaying fantasies... looking good in a cowboy hat a definite bonus. And Dean gets it good here -- he wears the boots, fixes Cas’s hat, and does a slo-mo power walk to the song Space Cowboy:

Steve Miller Band - Space Cowboy

I told you 'bout living in the U.S. of A Don't you know that I'm a gangster of love Let me tell you people that I found a new way And I'm tired of all this talk about love And the same old story with a new set of words About the good and the bad and the poor And the times keep on changin' So I'm keepin' on top Of every fat cat who walks through my door

I'm a space cowboy Bet you weren't ready for that I'm a space cowboy I'm sure you know where it's at Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (x)

I mean this is hilariously silly, and Dean is having so much fun, but he’s also completely embarrassing with his whole cowboy nerdgasm and forcing Cas to play along, amirite? This is Jensen Ackles showing off his physical comedy chops like the pro he is. But here’s the thing. The song scratches out the minute they find the law, because the old romantic version of the West does not hold true. In this version of Dodge, the law is not a cowboy, it’s a Native American. What’s more, Dean is not really the Space Cowboy either. Surely, surely, Cas is the space cowboy (but is Cas the gangster of love??? And if so, who’s heart did he steal???).

The frisson of not-quite-right continues throughout the rest of the episode. While the ghoul realises there are Hunters after him and tries to “get out of Dodge” -- the line the lawman Marshall Dillon of the TV show Gunsmoke used to say to interlopers of Dodge City -- it’s Jack who is proved to be the interloper in the end, and it’s the Winchester posse who leaves town. Except for Dean, of course, who ends up Hunting someone wearing the face of one of his cowboy faves.

I could go on, but you get the point.

Thematically, this episode is all about undermining Dean’s moral authority. It does it in several ways, many of them funny, but the intent is quite clear. He even straight up says that he was wrong at the end:

JACK: Good? How is that good? I killed someone. What was his name? The guard? Did he have a family? CASTIEL: Jack, don't do this to yourself. JACK: No, did he? DEAN: Yes, he did. SAM: Jack, look, this life, what we do, it's… it's not easy. And we've all done things we regret. JACK: Just don't. You're afraid of me. CASTIEL: Jack, no. JACK: No, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just another monster. DEAN: No, you're not. I thought you were. I did. But… Like Sam said, we've all done bad. We all have blood on our hands. So if you're a monster, we're all monsters. JACK: No, you don't… Every time I try and do something good, people get hurt. I thought I was getting better. I'm not… I don't know what I am, but I know I can't make the world a better place, not like this. I can't even do one good thing. And I know that if I stay, I'm gonna hurt you. All of you. And… I can't. You're all I have. SAM: Jack, listen… JACK: I have to go. CASTIEL: No, Jack. JACK: I'm sorry. (x)

Winchester through and through, that boy. Unintended lesson well and truly learned! Oh, the irony.

(My pet theory is that Jack isn’t actually gone, he’s just invisible and lurking around the Bunker. Don’t tell me if I’m wrong, please. I’m going to enjoy thinking about it until canon bursts my bubble.)

Before watching this ep, when I was talking over 13x05 with my viewing buddy, I said, “I wish monsters recognised Hunters more, and especially the Winchesters. It seems dumb after so many years that so few of them do.” And lo, in all three of these eps, people do recognise Hunters and/or the Winchesters. I’m very pleased by this, although as always it isn’t playing out quite the way I hoped. In the case of our ghoul, even though he quickly recognises that Hunters are after him, and makes plans to escape, he fails because he doesn’t take the threat seriously enough. More importantly, it’s not a Hunter(/cowboy) who kills him, it’s the Law(/Native American).

There were a lot of other things to like about this episode, but the other thing I find most notable in terms of meta is something on the meta-textual level. This episode starts upbeat, after five episodes of unrelieved grieving, with Cas back, and Jack finally seeming to be finding his place. That doesn’t even last one episode before the emotional apple-cart is knocked over again. If I were writing this season, this emotional beat in this place in the story arc would mean I’d be aiming for either a happy or ironic climax, rather than a tragic one. I’m leaning towards ironic, and I think Dean’s moral wonkiness will have a part to play in the ironic twist.

Anyway, that was Tombstone. The next two eps put away the myth-arc for a bit, and move on to monster-of-the-week stories full of mirrors for our protagonists. This season they are very much focused on fathers and sons.

War of the Worlds is an interesting title to choose for this episode. It’s obviously referring to H.G. Wells’ book, one of the first stories about aliens invading the Earth and trying to take it from Humanity -- a colonisation narrative in other words. It’s pretty easy to see that Michael in this case is the alien/coloniser.

By the way, I’m now calling alternaEarth “Mordor” because of that fiery eye in the opening credits, and also it’s much easier to type. Interesting, isn’t it, how the Mordor angels managed to screw up the Apocalypse, the implication being that it’s because God, Lucifer, the Winchesters and Castiel were all absent, and so The End wasn’t just a figment of Zachariah’s imagination, but what really happened. And with Lucifer dead in that world, not around to be the antagonist and keep things in check, Michael has basically gone crazy.

Chuck really did a spectacularly bad job as Father to the angels. They only need a bit of spite to energise them and they flower into the most noxious of weeds, smothering everything else around them during their self-absorbed tantrums. What does Michael even want with ParadiseEarth? Does he know, or does he just want it the way a baby wants a toy, and so he thinks it’s his to take? He’s not wearing a Winchester either (not one we know, anyway), so that also brings us right back around to the question of Dean being the Michael Sword. Methinks it’s a really bad time for Dean’s moral compass to be going wonky.

I found Lucifer interesting for the first time in ages in this ep. If I remember correctly, he was always ambivalent about the idea of the Apocalypse, because he liked Earth and having all those Humans to corrupt. But now he also has a son in the world; in other words, a stake in the continued existence of the world. I’m finding that super interesting. How will it change the choices he makes? I’m not expecting a redemption arc or anything like that, but I do think we’re going to see a different set of choices now Lucifer has someone he’s invested in as family. Can even Lucifer learn some humility once he’s the Father rather than the rebelling son?

To go back to the title of the ep, though, my favourite version of War of the Worlds is actually the musical. I see quite a few thematic similarities between some of the tracks and this season of Supernatural. Forever Autumn for instance, reminds me very strongly of Dean at the start of the season. The Spirit of Man I can easily see as a riff on what could happen if Michael actually gets out of Mordor. It does beg the question though, of what the equivalent of the deadly microbes would be. I have this horrible feeling it might be something like “love”, which has a pretty good track record of corrupting angels, but I can’t see many good ways of getting a shot of it inside of Michael. Maybe Rowena sticks some kind of magical bio-weapon in a vessel (Dean) and then they (Dean) says yes to Michael... because TFW does like to re-use strategies, and they never did get to play that one out with Amara in the end.

Why else bring back Ketch and potentially Rowena, reminding us of the whole secret-power-inside-a-body possibility at the same time? I mean, I know resurrection is a theme this season, and I’m always happy to see Rowena back, but UGH. I’d rather NOT end the season with Michael wearing Dean, and Dean wearing a crown of blackberry thorns, if you get my drift.

In other news, Dean’s moral compass seems to be working again this ep, as he spotted that Ketch was sketchy right from the start, and he picked up on Cas being weird on the phone too.  Could it be a fake-out that pays off later? If his moral compass is still on the fritz after all, it means Ketch was probably saying some truth in this bit of dialogue:

KETCH: I believe you're familiar with the witch Rowena MacLeod? She was captured by the British Men of Letters some years back. I discovered she'd sewn a powerful charm into her body that could bring her back should she be killed. I struck a deal wherein she did the same for me in return for allowing her to escape. SAM: So after we dumped your body, you- KETCH: Good as new. Only problem is, one the device is used, it needs to be recharged. DEAN: Which is why you're hunting for Rowena. Well, sorry. Lucifer burned her up. She's dead. KETCH: Is she? DEAN: Why'd you come here? You could've run. KETCH: Did it ever occur to you, Dean, that I might actually be one of the good guys? DEAN: No. Not even once. KETCH: You and I were soldiers in opposing armies who were at war. DEAN: Well, the thing about war is, one side wins. KETCH: I suppose you're right. (x)

So which bit is the potential truthiness? Is Ketch a good guy? *quietly gags, please nooooooo* Or is Rowena alive *yis pls*. Or... can you have a war in which one side doesn’t win?!?! Morder, I’m looking at you.

My foreshadowing senses are tingling. Let me just float this idea now and get it out there where I can poke it with a stick... maybe all three of these things will be true. For a certain value of true. And that would definitely mean Dean’s radar is still wonky.

This ep we have another character who recognises the Winchesters/Hunters. The witch who got away from Ketch fears them, but rightly considers them the lesser of two evils as long as she’s the victim. I’m liking this theme a lot, and I wonder where they’re going with it? I kind of hope that maybe we’ll get some more references to Carver Edlund’s books if this plot thread unspools for more than a few episodes. I’ve never felt that the villains really used that resource enough, you know? I kind of want Michael to get his hands on them, or maybe Kevin.

Which brings me to the final thing about this episode’s title -- the Orson Welles radio play of Wr of the Worlds. It’s famous for causing a panic when it aired, as people thought it was real. Or did they??? Wikipedia tells me:

The first two-thirds of the 60-minute broadcast were presented as a news bulletin and is often described as having led to outrage and panic by some listeners who had believed the events described in the program were real. However, later critics point out that the supposed panic seems to have been exaggerated by newspapers of the time seeking to discredit radio as a source of information. (x)

Ahhhhh. I did not know that. I’m starting to understand why my story brain is so hung up on the reputation of the Winchesters this season, and why it’s important that other characters have heard of them or of Hunters more generally. Propaganda and misinformation are an important part of any war, and they can play out in unexpected ways. We got a bit of this last season with how woefully wrong the BMoL’s intel was on the Winchesters, and I wanted that to pay off more than it did in the end. But I’m more than happy for it to pay off this season instead, with Michael and his posse. Supernatural’s story-within-the-story could use a good shake-up at this point, and giving us some new insight into the stories people tell about the Winchesters would be a clever way to revisit the Metatron arc without resurrecting him too.

For an ep that focused so much on characters I’m not that fond of (Lucifer, Ketch), I enjoyed it quite a lot for the way it’s opened up the narrative in new directions. It’s actual plot wasn’t that strong, but I was happy to be carried along by the revelations.

The final thing I want to say about this ep is that Dean and I are brain-twins on the Evil Colonel Sanders front -- it’s a perfect name for him.

I like heists if they do something fun, so I found the plot of The Scorpion and the Frog episode enjoyable enough. The way Sam and Dean disarmed the booby-trap made me laugh out loud!  Zoooooooom, zwot, thwop-thwop-thwop. Classic.

As this isn’t a myth-arc ep, the most interesting meta stuff arises from the title and theme. I’m sure you’ve all heard of the parable of The Scorpion and the Frog, so I won’t repeat it here, except for the axiom it ends with: “When the frog asks the scorpion why [it stung him], the scorpion replies that it was in its nature to do so” (x).

This title pretty directly evokes the show’s current major theme -- nature vs nurture -- and this season’s variation on it -- who’s your daddy?

As you’d expect at this point in the season, the ep raises a lot of questions about the theme: Do people really have an essential nature, or can they change their spots? Who in the episode is the scorpion and who is the frog? Is the scorpion the demon who can’t help but lie and use people? Is it the father who can’t help but try and save his son, and then turns bitter when he fails? Is it the Hunters who can’t help but hunt, even when they don’t intend to? Is it the victim who takes her shot at ending her suffering when offered the means? I could ask a similar set of questions about who is the frog.

Not to mention:

What qualities make for a good father?

Can somone overcome their (or their father’s) nature?

How do stories about the Winchesters affect they way people interact with them?

Hunters gotta hunt?

Can a frog be a scorpion in disguse? And if so, is that how they’ll sting Michael?

Is Dean’s moral compass wonky or not?

The more I think about all these questions, the less sure I get. Must be getting close to the middle of the season. :)

Barthamus the Crossroads Demon is another character who has heard of the Winchesters, and thinks he knows everything he needs to about them in order to get to the other side of the river on their backs.

Much as Evil Colonel Sanders is Lucifer!lite, Bart is Crowley!lite. He saw how Crowley worked with the Winchesters, and decided to take a leaf out of his book, but doesn’t understand the larger consequences of that choice. So far Crowley is the only antagonist who has ever realised that the Winchesters are always more dangerous than their enemies think -- they have taken down Gods and monsters, and even Death cannot stop them for long. It was almost inevitable that they would hunt Bart, no matter what was at stake (does that make them the scorpion?). Add in Smash, an actual victim, who Dean uses his supernatural bonding skills on, and that outcome went to a 100% certainty. This dilemma is prefigured early in the episode:

DEAN: You know, this could be a trap. I mean he could work for Asmodeus. SAM: Yeah, but what if he's telling the truth? DEAN: You know, after Crowley, I told myself, no more demons. SAM: Dean, we don't even know what this guy's deal is. DEAN: Yeah, we do. He's a freakin' demon. SAM: Yeah, but you said it yourself, we need a miracle. And maybe this is it. DEAN: You know what "miracles" are called from demons? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it's not "miracles". SAM: How about this? Let's hear the guy out. DEAN: All right, and after that, we kill him.

They enter the Smile Diner.

Did anyone else hear the name of this diner and think of Hamlet and the whole, “one may smile, and smile, and be a villain” speech? It really made me think of Crowley too -- if you go read the speech, you’ll see what I mean: http://nfs.sparknotes.com/hamlet/page_66.html.

BARTHAMUS: The famous Winchesters. DEAN: Some random demon. BARTHAMUS: Barthamus. Bart's fine. Please, sit. I ordered cherry pie. DEAN: Well, Bart, don't know what you've heard about us, but… BARTHAMUS: Everything. I've been following your careers a long time. You're a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo. Natural disrupters. We have that in common, you and I. DEAN: Mm. Yeah, we're twinsies. (x)

Dean was a much better demon than this, and Dean was basically a shitty demon. Dean’s moral compass seems to be working perfectly here, though: some random demon, indeed.

Except... there’s the way the episode ends.

DEAN: You okay? SAM: Yeah, not really. Not exactly the best day, you know? DEAN: Well, it's not the worst. We did save somebody. That felt good. SAM: Yeah. Yeah, it did. But… [Sighs] back to square one with Jack. DEAN: We'll figure something else out. And if that doesn't work, then we'll move on to next, and then whatever's after that. We just keep working, 'cause it's what we do. SAM: It feels really good to hear you talk like that again. DEAN: I'll drink to that.

Sam and Dean clink their beer bottles and take a drink. (x)

So is Dean right here, too?

“It’s what we do,” Dean says about Hunting, as though he and Sam are only and entirely defined by Hunting, and that they do have an essential nature that can’t be changed, despite Dean’s recent bout of feelings.

If that’s really true, it’s an enormous problem, both for themselves and for Jack. Toxic masculinity is part of what they always do. Abusive fathers, the MoL’s sexism, the Angel breeding program, Mary/Dean making a deal, John/Sam sacrificing themselves...

If a person’s nature can’t ever be changed, all of these patterns are what the Winchesters are made up of and will always remain. That isn’t a very hopeful picture, so I kind of hope Dean’s wrong about he and Sam being nothing but their work.

Can people change?  Can they make different choices? Will the Winchesters make the same mistakes all over again at the end of the season -- will they sting the frog and doom themselves? Or will they try out new and better mistakes, and make it safely to the other side of the river along with the frog?

I guess we’ll find out soon enough. I’m hoping for something new, but I gotta say, I’m starting to think that Castiel and Jack are the frogs.

Previously:

I never opened myself this way (13x01 and 13x02)

You say you've only got one life to live (13x03, 13x04, 13x05)          

[knotsandknives]

prompt fill for anonymous who said: Soooo…how did Robert get that scar?!?!??!

“Just leave it, Joe.”

Joseph frowns, still tracing a gentle finger over the prominent scar cutting an impressive line between Robert’s pectoral muscles. They’re lounging in the half-light that is Robert’s bedroom at dusk. Robert’s smoking his fourth post-coital cigarette, despite Joseph’s disapproval (“It’s my room, sweetcheeks. You’re free to leave.”), and neither of them have made any attempt at getting redressed. Joseph needs to get home, knows his kids are going to be asking after him, that Mary will be getting anxious to head out for the night, but he can’t quite bring himself to leave, not now that he’s finally worked up the courage to ask about Robert’s mark.

“Is it something completely embarrassing?” he tries again, voice light. “Like, I have a scar on my knee from giving Chris a horsey ride around the backyard and crawling right over top of -”

“Stop,” Robert interrupts, and his tone is such that Joseph doesn’t need to be told twice. “It’s not cute or funny or anecdotey. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Fucking drop it.” He sits up from his reclined position, dislodging Joseph where he’d been propped up against his chest.

Joseph lets himself be pushed to the side, lets Robert roll his way out of bed, watches him stalk to the en suite and shut the door firmly between them. Light filters out from under the door, too bright in the once-comfortable gloom. Joseph hears the water running, what sounds like Robert washing his face. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, cursing himself for pushing it. If there’s one thing he knows about Robert after all these years, it’s that he doesn’t like to be pushed.

But Joseph also knows that, after all these years, he’s earned a little bit of pushiness, damn it. He’s been there enough, shown up enough, proven himself enough to deserve Robert’s trust. Joseph doesn’t understand why he’s still so closed off, after everything. After what they are to each other. Joseph trusts Robert with his life. Literally because one word to the wrong person could see Joseph’s carefully constructed sham of a marriage crumbling at his feet. But he trusts Robert to keep his secrets. The fact that Robert doesn’t feel the same is a source of endless frustration and anxiety. If Robert doesn’t see this as a relationship, one where trust and communication are key, then what are they even doing? What is Joseph even doing here?

The bathroom door creaks open before Joseph can get up and gather his things in a fit of crippling doubt. Robert stands in the frame, still naked as the day he was born, backlit, but Joseph can see the regretful furrow of his brow.

“Still here, huh?” he says, lowly, but there’s no harshness to his voice now. Joseph recognizes the chagrin that always colors his words after one of his outbursts. He smiles softly, shrugging, and it’s enough of an invitation for Robert to slide back in the bed, farther away than before but still present. He’d left the light on in the bathroom, and it spills across the room through the ajar door.

Joseph watches Robert’s eyes, a washed out brown in the artificial light. Robert is brushing ash from the sheets, shaken loose by his abrupt departure. At least he’d remembered to stub the cigarette out on his way. What he’s really doing is avoiding Joseph’s gaze, but Joseph has four kids. He’s familiar with the tactic. And he’s always been too patient for his own good.

Eventually, Robert blows out a breath, reaching across the space between them to take Joseph’s elbow, pulling him close. Joseph considers resisting, on principle, but he never wants to miss a chance to be near Robert. They settle much like they were before, Joseph’s head tucked against Robert’s neck, Robert’s arm behind his shoulders. Joseph keeps his hands to himself, for now, punishing Rob a little. He didn’t miss how this position gives Robert an excuse not to meet his eyes. He doesn’t speak, either. There’s no need to make this too easy on Robert.

“Sorry,” Robert finally mutters, low enough that Joseph could ignore it. Robert probably wants him to. But after all this time, he knows better than to expect Joseph to keep quiet about anything.

“I’m sorry, too,” Joseph says immediately, shifting so the words aren’t mumbled into Robert’s collarbone. “I know I’m a little pushy sometimes, but I can never get you to talk to me otherwise, Rob. And you know I only ask because I care about you, and I want to know things about you because I want to know you better, and I just wa-”

Robert closes a hand over his mouth, not ungently. Joseph rolls his lips together, swallowing the rest of his rambling. He gazes up at the side of Robert’s face, waiting.

“I don’t see how collecting useless facts about people’s past qualifies as knowing them,” Robert starts, pressing harder when Joseph tries to protest against his hand. “I think it’s enough that we know each other as we are now, without all the minutiae. But,” he says, louder, not giving in to Joseph’s huffs of displeasure, “I know knowing these things is important you. I don’t always like your asking about them, and I don’t always want to tell you, and I won’t always tell you, but I know you like to know. And it’s…nice. That you care enough to ask.”

The last words sound like they took everything in Robert to say, like he’d forced them past years of deep-set, ingrained reticence. Joseph rewards his effort with a kiss to his open palm, still resting against Joseph’s lips. Robert’s fingers twitch, but he doesn’t remove his hand.

“You wanted to know how I got the scar?” he checks, nodding back when Joseph bobs his head, movements kept small with the hand over his mouth. “Bike accident,” he says, then amends it when Joseph’s eyes go wide. “Not like motorcycle.” Robert sighs, closing his eyes. Joseph has given up wondering when he’s going to drop his hand. It seems to bring him some measure of comfort, knowing he can tell the story at his own pace without Joseph being able to interject. Joseph wonders how much he actually talks, that Robert feels the need to silence him. It might be time for a little self-reflection on the matter.

Robert is silent for a spell, breath syncing up with the soft exhalations Joseph breathes against the back of his hand. He smells like nicotine and the generic, dollar store hand soap he always keeps in the bathroom. It’s soothing.

“I took Val for a bike ride at the shitty, slummy park near our shitty, slummy house. She must have been like seven or eight.” Robert pauses, swallowing hard. Joseph can hear his heartbeat beneath his ear, nervous and uneven. He kisses Robert’s palm again, spreading his own against the expanse of Robert’s flat stomach. “I was wasted,” Robert grits out, years of guilt and regret lacing the words. “I was always wasted, back then.” He gives a short, humorless laugh, not robust enough to shift Joseph. “I guess it’s not too much different from now, except I couldn’t hold my liquor as well then. Definitely not well enough to watch a kid, steer a bike, and smoke. I was mostly focused on the cigarette,” he continues, bitterly. “Like, of all things. That was most important to me. Anyway, there was a big hill that lead down to the parking lot. Val liked to ride down there so we could have coasting contests, see who could go the longest without pedaling. We’d fuckin’ book it down that hill, then coast around the parking lot until one of us fell over.”

Robert’s voice sounds thick, rich with memory as much as emotion, and Joseph considers breaking away from the hand over his mouth to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t have to go on. But now that he’s started, Robert seems determined to finish. He takes a couple shuddery breaths before he continues.

“I don’t even remember getting to the top of that hill, that’s how gone I was. I just remember being pissed at how windy it was that day. I couldn’t get my cigarette lit, and Val was needling me, trying to get me to hurry up. I,” Robert sounds angry now, at himself. At the world. “I yelled at her. Told her to stop being such a needy little shit. She started to cry, and I was frustrated, and was just like ‘fine! let’s go!’ and took off without her.” He shakes his head, and Joseph can see the tension in his jaw. “I was drunk, and mad, and only had one hand on the bike. It was a gravel path. I ate shit. Like, spectacularly. Fucked everything up. Concussion. Broken wrist. This,” he gestures to the scar, disgustedly. “Val had to ride home for help. Seven years old, had to ride home by herself to tell her mom that her drunken asshole of a dad was lying at the bottom of a hill, passed out and bleeding everywhere. She had to see that, you know? She had to see that and react to it and -” He stops again, jerking away from Joseph to sit at the edge of the bed, breathing hard and shaking just slightly.

Joseph sits up more slowly, missing the weight of his hand already. He follows Robert to the edge, kneeling up behind him. He slips his arms around his chest carefully, unsure of his welcome, but Robert leans back into his touch. Joseph lets out a breath, hooking his chin over Robert’s shoulder, hands clasped together over the identic scar.

“That was kinda the last straw as far as me and Marilyn were concerned,” Robert tells him, quietly. Joseph can’t help the questioning noise he looses, because he knows the two of them had stayed married until Marilyn’s death. “Had myself a situation a lot like yours,” Robert clarifies, hands coming up to close around Joseph’s arms, keeping him close. His thumbs slowly stroke the jut at the outside of Joseph’s wrists. “We stayed together but it wasn’t…we weren’t together. Not that I blame her.” Another humorless laugh. “I didn’t even deserve that. She should have left. Taken Val and never seen me again.”

“Rob,” Joseph starts, but Robert squeezes his wrists, tight. Joseph is tired of being silenced, but letting Robert get it all out is more important that Joseph getting a word in edgewise.

“So that’s the story of the scar. Glamorous as you were hoping?” Robert asks, but it isn’t really a question.

Joseph turns his head, resting his cheek on Robert’s shoulder, thinking. “I would have stuck with you, too,” Joseph tells him, quietly. Robert scoffs, and Joseph talks over him. “Listen, I can’t pretend to know why Marilyn did it. Why she stayed. But if she ever felt even close to the way I feel about you, and if she saw the person I see, under the booze and the self-destruction and the cynicism, then she had a reason for -”

Robert interrupts him again, but not with words. He takes a sobbing, shuddering breath, face turned away from Joseph. He drops the hands on Joseph’s arms to cover his face, scrubbing at his eyes roughly. Joseph sits up slightly, mortified but also strangely gratified at finally drawing some kind of emotional reaction out of Robert. He drops a kiss at the back of Robert’s neck, running both hands up through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. Joseph kisses him again and again, the side of his neck, the shell of his ear, the crown of his head. Robert’s breath catches a few more times before finally evening out. He sighs explosively, leaning back into Joseph’s embrace again.

“I think I love you, you know that?”

Joseph closes his eyes, nose pressed to Robert’s smoke-scented hair. They breathe in unison for a while, sitting naked on the edge of Robert’s giant bed, yellow light warming their features.

“I know.”

[dalishious]

3 for Varric and 2 for Iron Bull?

(Inquisitor + Companions Ask Meme)

Varric #3: “Did your Inquisitor approve of Varric’s stories? Did they read any of his books?”

Exiting Val Royeaux, Varric could tell the Inquisitor was a tad more high-strung than usual. The elf found no joy in their shopping trip, that was for sure. Varric decided to take it upon himself to give her something else to think about. “You know Inquisitor, you’re one of the few people I’ve ever met who hasn’t immediately asked me for details about Hard in Hightown.”The Inquisitor responded in turn. “Why would I, when I have never read it?”“Wait,” Varric stopped, “Seriously?”“It seems you’re not as famous as you thought, Varric,” Cassandra poked at him.“Do you just not like mysteries, or…?”“Varric,” The Inquisitor pulled her mouth back in amusement, “I am a Dalish First. I spent my time reading about magics and elven history, not works of fiction. Where would I even get such a book?”“I don’t know, you said you read The Tale of The Champion,” Varric shrugged.“Yes, our tradesmen do bring books back with them to share with the clan from time to time,” she explained. “A book detailing a heroic fight against templar oppression is very exciting.”“Well, Hard in Hightown has some excitement of its own. You see, Donnen Brennokovic of the Kirkwall Guard is chasing after the mysterious death of the Magistrate–”“No offence Varric, but a fictional story glorifying human guardsmen holds no interest to me,” She uncharacteristically interrupted him with a flat voice.“I see,” he said, as the group began walking again. “Well, to each their own.” The Inquisitor only nodded. “You could always ask more about the Tale of the Champion?”“Well, since you mentioned it, please do tell me about the Duke again.”“Right,” Varric rubbed his hands together, “So, as you know, it all started with a mysterious elven woman came out of nowhere…”

Iron Bull #2: “How did your Inquisitor react to the Chargers? Did they utilize them as allies or leave them to Bull?”

Iron Bull and his Chargers had claimed Haven’s tavern as their own that night. Their laughs, cheers, chants, and banging tankards could be heard from anywhere in the village. Amaris found the noise difficult, herself, but did her best to minimize her wincing from her table off to the side. She would have preferred to be in solitude, but at such an ungodly hour in the night, unless she wanted to curl up with a lowly candle, the tavern was the only source of strong light. The way they carried on reminded her of a rambunctious family. And yet, they were all so different.That was when one Charger in particular caught her eye. An elven woman with pale blonde hair. Krem, the Tevinter man and a few others were cheering her on as she downed a large mug of ale. She slammed her mug down and everyone threw their hands up, while the man next to her slumped forward in what must have been defeat. Just like that, she turned her head, and Amaris felt a tiny flutter from how beautiful she was. Beautiful… And Dalish. There was another Dalish elf here. Amaris threw her book down and nervously approached the woman, eager to talk to her, even if only for a moment.“Dill macaw Aneth ara, lethallan. I see you too wear the vallaslin of Dirthamen,” she greeted, referring to the bright green ink on the woman’s face.The woman looked Amaris over, and smiled. “The Herald of Andraste worships the Creators? How blasphemous,” she mused.“I am not the–Oh,” Amaris realized she was being sarcastic, “Apologies, I suppose I am so used to having to say that every five minutes.”“I imagine.” “I am Amaris of Clan Lavellan,” she extended her hand, “Of what clan do you come from?”“Boss!” Iron Bull’s booming voice came, and he soon took a seat at the stool between them. He himself was nursing a large cup of alcohol. “I see you’ve met Dalish here. She’s a mage, like you.”“Of course I’m not,” The Dalish called Dalish waved at him, using the same tone as she did previously for sarcasm.“If you are–sorry, if you were theoretically a mage, why are you not with your clan?” Amaris asked, but Iron Bull answered for her.“Dalish don’t have templars, so they can’t have too many mages in a clan at once.” Amaris was a tad annoyed; she had recently heard the same falsities from Vivienne. “Bull, that is not true. We…” But she trailed off when she saw Dalish’s face from behind him; that of anxiety. Whatever true reason she was away from her clan, it was not something she wanted to talk about. As much as Amaris wanted to correct Iron Bull, she did not want to make her fellow elf uncomfortable. “…That is, my clan, and most of the clans I know of love our mages. I am sorry to hear your clan was different, Dalish.”The blonde elf nodded, what looked to be in thanks for one thing but actually another. “Huh,” was all Bull said, and took another sip of his drink. Amaris was thankful he was clearly intoxicated, otherwise his proven to be keen Ben-Hasrath senses would have no doubt picked up on her rather poor, stumbling lie.“If you will excuse me, I think it is time I attempt some sleep,” she excused herself. “Perhaps we could talk more later, Dalish?”“Anytime, not-Herald.” Dalish winked at her, and Amaris felt her ears and cheeks grow warm. She nodded, and grabbed her book as she excited the tavern.

(I know this question was about all the Chargers, but I feel like Amaris would really connect with–and have a small crush on–Dalish in particular. Also, it’s an excuse to do some gymnastics around that BS retcon DA:I threw at us, lol.)

[thesportssoundoff]

“There’s five fucking fights announced, the fuck you people want from me?” A salty TUF Finale Preview

The famed/dreaded/beloved/villanious UFC doubleheader is upon us this week as we've got a TUF Finale on Friday leading into a genuinely loaded and stacked UFC  218 on the back end. The beginning of our focus is on said Finale from Las Vegas, Nevada aaaaaaaaaand I got nothin'. Honestly! I have not much to really say. As of right now, the card has five fights on it. There's two genuinely awesome bantamweight fights (Joe Soto/Brett Johns plus Shawn O'Malley/Terrion Ware), a middleweight fight of middling import (Andew Sanchez/Ryan Janes) and another one that should be amusing if nothing else (Eric Spicely/Gerald Meeschaert). The focus for this show is on the TUF flyweight championships and like the usual TUF affair, we're looking at a lot of this card being filled up with cast members for the show. Going back to the last women's TUF which crowned a champion, we had 8 fights featuring fighters off the show and I'm figuring guessing that the number will be close to the same. You assume a finale fight, the failed semi finalists fighting and then filler will get you to about 7 or 8. It is worth remembering they're trying to start a division here so everyone is gonna get a shot. The lack of fights announced and the general meh of the fights that ARE announced allow me to use the preview space a bit differently. No wacky factoids, no pondersings and no stats to keep (although for record keeping purposes, Sean O'Malley will be remembered for debuts and Terrion Ware for second fights) and instead we can just do some talking about this division and where it stands.

This Ultimate Fighter has not been the record smash success other seasons have been although not entirely of its own fault. They ran up against the World Series with a dated formula that some people are tired of and with two coaches who will make for an amazing fight but not amazing talking television. Compared to TUF 20, this isn't new anymore. WMMA is not a new thing; it's established now and people are either for it or against it with the understanding that they're shouting at a wall. It's empty space, it's noise in a vaccum, it's...it's just nothing. It's yelling at clouds now. A new TUF tournament is cool because it'll get this division going but it's not destination programming. I watch ALASKA FIGHTING CHAMPIONSHIPS and I've seen about three episodes of this TUF. The formula lives on its coaches and the talent involved with it. We've discussed Eddie Alvarez and Justin Gaethje as coaches and they're not engaging talkers. Their fight SHOULD be amazing but I think it speaks to where these two stand that their fight is FOURTH on the main card. It's an amazing fight on paper but neither is going to get you all worked up, it's just another fantastic fight in the shark tank of 155. Not their fault.

And what about the talent at 125 lbs? In a way, this is not anybody's fault either. The best 125ers in the world are basically already in the UFC. They're starving strawweights or bloated up 135ers. They're Valentina Shevchenko, Joanna Challenger, Paige Van Zant, Katlyn Chookagian, Joanne Calderwood and in all likelihood a Claudia Gadelha or Jessica Andrade. Then for a reality show, remove every fighter who doesn't speak English or lives across the planet away from Nevada. From there, the remaining members of the field are all fine fighters in their own right but none of them scream "MUST SIGN!" or superstar. 115 lbs was fresh, new and unique. 125 lbs is just a room with a view at this point. The future of flyweight is bright in time since it'll be like the lightweight of WMMA----but we're aways away from that. One day sure, right now? Not even close. It doesn't help I guess that for people going INTO the show, the best of the best were fighters they've already seen and seen lose. I know there's plenty of people who like Roxanne Modafferi but to UFC fans, she's the woman who lost on TUF then lost to Rocky Pennington way before that became a good thing for your career. Lauren Murphy has lost every UFC fight she's had against someone who remains gainfully employed by the organization. Those are the two biggest names with Barb Honchak trailing way way way way behind in third place and it is of course a fine reminder that Barb went into the show with the reputation of being the most boring female fighter in the history of drab and boring. The rest of the field featured fighters who wouldn't headline an Invicta card or stand out if they were announced on a card. TUF 18 got the best fighters not signed by Strikeforce; a crop that included plenty of elite talent and some surprises who popped out as well. Hell, Tonya Evinger, Val Letourneau and Gina Mazany all didn't make the show which shows their depth. TUF 20 was legitimately just a "Bring me every 115er who can talk english and is over 21" from invicta and other parts of the US which made it stand out. This show is by design/bad luck an amassing of fine fighters who will fill ranks but not seats.

That doesn't mean the division is doomed. Hell it doesn't even mean that this CAST is doomed either. TUF 18 was an attempt to find the next/eventual Ronda Rousey. It didn't do that but it did give us some good fighters who fill ranks across the UFC's multiple women's weight classes. TUF 20 was an attempt to start a new division off with a popular champion and weeks of hype. It wasn't successful but it gave the division some notoriety and 115 lbs is a solid weight class with plenty of name fighters inside of it. The future of this division, it's EVENTUAL star, will not be from this class immediately but who knows? Rose Namajunas went onto TUF at 2-1, got blown out in the finals and then matured and developed into a fighter who dethroned the unbeatable. Felice Herrig has morphed into a whole new woman off TUF. Strange shit happens sometimes in MMA and 125 lbs will almost certainly be no different. TUF is like weed; it's a gateway to some. Rocky Pennington was 3-3 prior to TUF and now she's kind of a big deal at 135 lbs. Some fighters will use the experience and grow, others won't really. I bet you a few years from now, some of us will look back and be shocked at who got off the show and developed and who just stayed where they were. It's the start of a long play for a new weight class which will hopefully give us fighting riches beyond our imaginations as it develops.

The importance of 125 lbs really can't be lost on folks. The UFC does not need another 135 lbs. That division is pretty much dead at this point as Amanda Nunes is the champion nobody cares about facing a dried up pool of contenders. The shelves were never restocked properly after Ronda and Miesha left and the next generation is already thinned. Pena is pregnant which is amazing for her life but not for her weight class. Shevchenko is going to 125 lbs where she'll probably prosper and win plenty of titles. Holly Holm's value seems to be as a fighter who can dance around weight classes depending on the time of year. After that you have fighters with obvious ceilings on their potential (Marion Reneau, Bethe Corriea, Sara McMann), a promising fighter in Ketlein Vieira and the ultimate unknown in Cat Zingano. The landscape is bleak. 115 lbs seems to have a steady supply of newbies filtering in plus a bunch of fresh exciting new fights with Rose as champion. It seems to be doing alright with room to grow as the UFC expands into more markets. 145 lbs is laughable, a mess and a half. You can carry ONE dead division, you're going to see holes with two but three? That's a serious step back for WMMA.

There are zero fights currently announced featuring the cast ALTHOUGH Lauren Murphy is RUMORED (there's that dirty word!) to be facing Priscila Cachoeira so you can cross her out. If I had to guess, something I'm pretty shitty at normally. Here's what I think we MIGHT see:

Roxy/Sijara Eubanks winner vs Nicole Montano " loser vs Barb Honchak Rachael Ostovich vs Maia Stevenson Deanna Bennett vs Emily Whitmire Montana Stewart vs Melinda Fabian Lauren Murphy vs Priscila Cachoeira Maia Stevenson vs Gillian Robertson

Don't be surprised if losers of those fights stick around in the UFC given that this division needs depth behind it as well.

And before I send thee to bed, I want to take a brief second of your time to discuss those two bantamweight fights. We can begin with Joe Soto who finally is starting to make some waves after being "the guy TJ Dillashaw iced back in the day on 24 hours notice." Soto's always been UFC caliber and he's starting to show it, complete with a fucking war and a half vs Rani Yahya. He's not perfect but against Brent Johns, we're going to see a fight that could headline any regional promotion ever. Johns has been a stud although the finishing power still isn't there. He's a guy who has shown an improved skillset and a lot of the problems that plagued him on the regional scene (constantly hurt/struggles with weight) haven't popped back up. The other fight is a really, really interesting clash between a raw as fuck prospect and a proven regional veteran. Terrion Ware has been a good fighter on the regional circuit and the whole "you go places if you beat him" mantra is more true than false. Of his five losses, 3 are in the UFC (Luke Sanders, Cody Stamman and Joe Soto) and 1 is in Bellator (Leandro Higo). He's the guy who basically checks if you're good enough or not. Sean O'Malley is one of the genuine stars of the DWTCS formula. If anything he's THE guy who makes the whole concept work. He was an unknown guy who in one performance had the MMA world (for a night at least) popping for him, Snoop Dogg marking out and shouting his name plus a contract from Dana White. Ware is going to test if he's all flash and bluster or if he's got something more than hype to his name.

[lillotte17]

@feynites have...whatever this is. 

It is very late when Aili finally reaches a decision. Despite the hour, she climbs the stairs up towards the Inquisitor’s suit of rooms, banking on Uthvir still being awake for one reason or another. Attempting to save the world is a big job, even with the aid of their advisors, and she thinks that having so much control over so many people’s lives would certainly be enough to keep her up at night.

It turns out to be a safe bet. They answer the door almost immediately after she knocks, which quiets any niggling concern she had felt about potentially waking them. Although, she is surprised to see that they are still wearing most of their heavy plate armor.

"You were planning on going to bed like that?" Aili blurts, blinking at them curiously. It is...not quite how she intended to begin this conversation. She can feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment, shifting her weight slightly and glancing down at her bare toes.

For their own part, Uthvir simply looks amused.

"I had not planned on sleeping at all, truth be told," they tell her with a curling grin, "And neither, I suspect, were you, since you seem to have found your way to my doorstep. Have you reconsidered my proposal from this afternoon?"

"Y-yes," she stammers out, "About that… I have been thinking a lot about what you said. And I think…we should talk. Can I come in?"

"Of course," they reply with a courteous bow and a sweeping gesture of their arm, pushing the door open wider to allow her to step inside.

Aili walks up the short flight of stairs leading into the main part of their chambers, and stops near a couch pressed up against the railing. Uncertain of what to do with herself. Standing seems too formal, and sitting seems too casual, and all in all, escaping out the balcony window is starting to look like the best solution to everything.

Instead, she settles for leaning against the banister and knotting her fingers together nervously while her gaze flits about the room.

Uthvir seems to have some sort of strange fixation with the color red. Red sheets. Red drapery. A large Antivan floor rug with a swirling pattern of red and gray and gold. And furs tossed over everything. It’s as if their bedchamber is some strange cross between a hunting lodge and what she has always supposed a brothel must look like on the inside.

Peculiar.

"So…" Uthvir says leadingly, slinking up behind her on the stairs and settling themselves on the arm of the couch closest to her. Invading just enough of her space to make her squirm slightly. When they speak again, their voice is nearly a purr, "I believe you wanted to ‘talk’ about something?"

"R-right," she confirms, "About what you said this afternoon. I’ve…I’ve thought about it, and… I think we get along well enough. I mean, we haven’t known each other for a terribly long time, but you have proven yourself to be trustworthy, and clever, and brave… Um. And I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t see the advantages it would give my people. And I do… I do like you. So…"

Aili clears here throat and lifts her gaze to meet their eyes.

"So…Yes. I will be your wife. If…if you want."

Uthvir blinks at her.

"You will be…my wife?" they repeat slowly, clearly at something of a loss.

"I…um. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but I hadn't actually realized you were making attempts to court me," Aili tells them with a shy smile, cheeks pinking slightly. "But when I actually stopped and thought about it, it was all so obvious. I mean, you're always being nice to me and listening to my advice, and then you started with the gifts for both me and my clan. The armor, and the stave from Val Royeaux. That barrel of apples I wanted. And those books. The extra food rations and the halla you sent to my people. It is…almost excessive for the dowry tradition, honestly, but I suppose I was a little slow to catch on. And I… I am touched, that you followed our customs. I know that you do not adhere to many of the old ways, now that you have left your clan."

"So, when I told you that I wanted to sleep with you this afternoon… That is a common marriage proposal in your clan?" Uthvir wonders.

"Well, not exactly," she laughs, "It just happened to be what opened my eyes to your…um. Interests? It took me a little while to figure out what exactly you might be interested in, precisely. But…we work well together, and I know that some people have been trying to persuade you to choose a partner in order to make you seem a little more…approachable. It makes sense."  

"I do not need to seem approachable," Uthvir says with a dismissive wave of their hand. A strange expression flits across their face as they regard her for a moment, curiosity quickly melding with resolution. "However, I am pleased to hear that you have decided to accept my proposal."

Aili's smile broadens exponentially, and she reaches out to lightly touch the back of their hand.

"We can build a life together," she tells them, "Our own happiness in our own way."

"I assume that Dalish marriages also involve having sex with one's spouse," Uthvir notes with an approving hum, "We could get in some early practice for our future life, if you like. There is a rather convenient bed positioned only a few feet away from us. Not that the bed is a necessity for such things. The couch is also rather close at hand, if you prefer."

"Your enthusiasm is flattering," Aili laughs, blushing yet again, "But I… Um. I'm still sort of adjusting to the idea of…all of this. I'd like a little more time, if that's alright."

"Courtship could take several decades, in the days of the Empire," Uthvir sighs in mostly feigned disappointment, "I suppose I can manage to wait for our wedding, if that is your preference."

"Patience is a virtue," Aili says, leaning forward slowly and pressing a careful kiss against their cheek. Her face is flushed all the way to the roots of her hair, but she grins at them regardless, "But it is not one that I have been particularly blessed with. You are…very beautiful. And I am…not uninterested. I just…don't have a lot in the way of experience, that's all. Everything is a bit new to me. I'd think it would be nice to take things a little slowly. At least at first. "

"Well, this is my first time being engaged to someone," Uthvir admits, "I suppose I can see the novelty in savoring such a thing. And I am certainly not about to force your hand."

There is a bit of an awkward pause, in which neither party is entirely certain what to do next. Eventually, Aili nods and shifts her weight as though to move away from them. Her hands fiddling nervously with her sleeves.

"W-well," she begins, "I guess…that's really all I had to say. Um. Try and get some sleep, if you can. It's not good for your health to stay up late all the time. And…good night, I guess."

Uthvir stands, reaching out to take hold of her wrist just before she can begin her retreat towards the door.

"May I kiss you good night?" they ask, "It seems appropriate, given the circumstances."

Aili swallows thickly, managing a nod. Her breath catches when they move closer. Her heart speeding up into a pounding rhythm.

Uthvir bends their head slightly, and presses their mouth to hers. And for all their spikes and armor and dry wit, it is unaccountably…sweet. She leans into them after a moment, tilting her head slightly when they lift a hand to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck. Her hands move tentatively to their upper arms, sighing into their mouth as her body relaxes. Shifting from mild anxiety to a sort of tingling contentment.

When they withdraw, she feels warm and dizzy. And almost eager to try kissing them again. Along with a few other things.

"Good night," Uthvir whispers, looking entirely too pleased about the dazed expression on her face.

"Good night," Aili manages to rasp out in reply, reluctantly pulling away and heading down towards the door to return to her on chambers. She hesitates for a moment, pausing with her hand on the doorknob, turning back to look at her future spouse standing at the top of the stairs.

She rolls the word around in her mouth for a moment, as though trying to decide if she likes the taste of it. But when she meets their eyes again, it comes out almost naturally. Almost.

"Vhenan."    

[useyourrwords]

Top Ten Tuesday // Screen Adaptations I LOVED, Ones I NEED & And Ones I NEED NOW – Page to Screen

I’m a lover of screen adaptations

Look we had a run of ones that weren’t…great. But the last few years have more than made up for it!

Honestly, it’s just made me more excited for screen adaptations to come!

The rise of limited series have made it even more possible for the industry to get our favourites right.

I must admit, lately I have become someone who usually even prefers the screen adaptation. But that being said, some of my favourites have been ones I hadn’t even read the book for first!

But I really do think that the watch first, read later thing works for me. If I see a screen adaptation coming out for a book I haven’t read yet, then I’m not someone who rushes out to read the book first.

In fact, I will purposely wait until after I’ve seen the adaptation because nine times out of ten it means I’ll be able to appreciate the adaptation for what it is instead of constantly holding it to the high standards of the book. If I go in relatively blind first than I don’t know what I’m missing. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

So in this post I’m going to be listing five adaptations I have seen and LOVED, Some of which I haven’t even read the books for yet! Shhh, I’ll get to them, five I NEED to happen and how I would want them handled.

And of course it wouldn’t be a Grey Top Ten without some honourable mentions at the end, this time of screen adaptations that are coming but that I’m impatient for and want NOW.

If you would like to buy any of the following books please consider using my Book Depository Affliate link!

Past Top Ten Tuesdays

 Top Ten Tuesday // Fave Short Stories and Anthologies – Magical Doors, Radical Women, Villains and the Ultimate Heart Break

 Top Ten Tuesday // My Back List Books – I’m Publicly Shaming Myself

 Top Ten Tuesday // Audible and Overdrive Are My Lords & Saviors – My Audiobook TBR

Screen Adaptations I LOVED

│To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before│Jenny Han│Screen Adaptation│

Lara Jean: I wrote five letters, so don’t go feeling too special. Peter: You wrote five love letters? Lara Jean: Yeah. Peter: Damn, Covey, you’re a player.

This one is the most recent one I’ve seen and I adored it!

Lara Jean is sweet and adorable and Peter is everything a teen girl could dream of.

I recently read the book in December and I think the movie did it justice.

Also Lana Condor played Lara Jean perfectly. Like every little detail was just right. I loved discovering that after seeing the film because it made me appreciate it even more.

     │Big Little Lies│Liane Moriarty│Screen Adaptation│

Madeline: They say it’s good to let your grudges go, but I don’t know, I’m quite fond of my grudge. I tend it like a little pet.

Big Little Lies captivated me from the first fucking episode.

This is another one where I saw the adaptation before the book and this is actually one of those times where I couldn’t tell you which one I prefer. Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve consumed either?

I really loved how the story is told and I was obsessed with it, jamming it down everyone’s throats after I binge watched the show.

I need season 2 like, yesterday!

     │Sharp Object│Gillian Flynn│Screen Adaptation│

Amma Crellin: Don’t tell Momma

This limited series made me want to die. But in the good way.

It just—I was not ready in the slightest. 

Amy Adams fucking killed it as Camille and deserved all the awards. She’s become one of my favourite actresses because of it.

I’m even willing to possibly watch the Woman in the Window because she’s in it even though the author of book is absolutely a dumpster fire.

Everything about Sharp Objects was a knife to the throat.

I need to read the book SOON!

     │Dumplin’│Julie Murphy│Screen Adaptation│

Willowdean: As far as I’m concerned, a swimsuit body is a body with a swimsuit on it.

I cried so much watching this film. Like sobbing, I couldn’t stop.

It was what Sierra Burgess should have been but could never be.

Also it features one of my fave actors Bex Taylor-Klaus and their v. fake teeth.

I haven’t read the book but i probably won’t read it because it doesn’t seem as good as the film.

     │Love, Simon│Becky Albertalli│Screen Adaptation│

Emily: As soon as you came out, you said, “Mom, I’m still me.” I need you to hear this: You are still you, Simon. You are still the same son who I love to tease and who your father depends on for just about everything. And you’re the same brother who always complements his sister on her food, even when it sucks. You get to exhale now, Simon.

Hello and welcome to my favourite film, possibly of all time.

I would have sobbed while watching this the first time but I was in a packed theatre so I had to settle for subtly tears. But GOD DAMN IT if that wasn’t the most perfect film.

Okay so it wasn’t perfect, there were some things that weren’t the best BUT we finally got a LGBTQ+ film where nobody fucking dies. That’s a win for me.

I just loved it so much I bought like the collector’s edition of the DVD it’s ultraray or something, I have no idea but I sobbed through the whole re-watch.

It’s just the perfect movie for when you’re sad and need cheering up.

Screen Adaptations I NEED

│Sadie│Courtney Summers│Limited Series│

I wish his darkness lived outside of him, because you have to know it’s there to see it. Like all real monsters, he hides in plain sight.

So everyone knows this book has become one of the best audiobooks of all time. I mean, I haven’t listened to is yet but I have zero doubts.

But I think Sadie would also make the perfect limited series, think Big Little Lies and Sharp Objects.

Perfection.

     │The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo│Taylor Jenkins Reid│Limited Series│

“Don’t ignore half of me so you can fit me into a box. Don’t do that.”

I cried when I finished the book and had to come to terms with the fact Evelyn Hugo isn’t a real fucking person because she should be and Reid made her feel realer than any person I actually know.

Also I changed my middle name to Evelyn to honour her.

This would make an amazing limited series! Can you tell I love limited series yet?

Honestly I just want to be one step closer to make Evelyn as real of a person as possible.

Also the actress MUST be queer and Cuban. I won’t have it any other way.

Basically I just want the adaptation Jamieson @ Jamishelves described.

     │Dangerous Girls│Abigail Haas│Film│

Wouldn’t we all look guilty, if someone searched hard enough?

This book was so un-put-downable I could scream.

Honestly it was one of my favourite reads for 2018 and I read a lot of good books last year.

I would love it to be filmed documentary style. I think it would be really cool to do it that way as if it’s a real crime being covered.

I don’t know, I just want it.

     │Genuine Fraud│E. Lockhart│Film│

For anyone who has been taught that good equals small and silent, here is my heart with all its ugly tangles and splendid fury.

Jule is honestly a fucking monster and I need to see her on my screen.

I don’t know how I want it, I just know I need it.

     │All For The Game│Nora Sakavic│Netflix Series│

“Fight because you don’t know how to die quietly. Win because you don’t know how to lose.”

My co-worker and I have gone over what we want from this screen adaptation so many times and it includes a Netflix series, Troye Sivan and Alison and Renee need to be canon and NO WHITE WASHING!

But also I’m in love with Jamieson’s @ Jamishelves casting.

Honourable Mentions

Screen Adaptations I Need NOW

│The Rook│Daniel O’Malley│Stan Series│

“You look like Cinderella,” said Val in awe. “Yeah, if she’d been into bondage and had Christian Dior for a godmother.”

I was scrolling through the Stan (Australian streaming service) Facebook page, when I saw a trailer for a new series they have coming out called The Rook.

Boy, was I surprised to find out that one of the very first books I ever read because of Goodreads, specifically because of Emily May’s review, was being made into a screen adaptation.

I loved the plot and the world and our main character.

It was whip smart and magical and thrilling. It was such a great genre cross-over and I loved every second of it.

I can’t wait for the series and I am in physical pain because they haven’t actually announced a release date yet. I cry.

Writing this post made me want to reread it, so I read it in April for a readathon!

     │Shades of Magic│V.E. Schwab│Film Rights Sold│

“I apologize for anything I might have done. I was not myself.” “I apologize for shooting you in the leg.” said Lila. “I was myself entirely.”

My love for this series will never die, and neither will my mum’s.

After all, she took Lila’s name as her own middle name when she changed her name earlier this year.

We basically have matching literary middle names now because you can’t tell me that Lila and Evelyn aren’t the most Slytherin women you’ll ever read.

I feel like I’ve been waiting for this screen adaptation forever and I’ll probably still be waiting for it forever.

But I don’t care because there is hope and I need it.

Also I want Piera Forde as Lila Bard.

        │Grishaverse│Shadow & Bone│Six of Crows│Leigh Bardugo│Netflix Series│

“When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

I’m so excited I could scream!!!!

I mean I haven’t read the Shadow & Bone series yet but  I have read Six of Crows like every other person and their dog.

Things I want;

No white-washing

No straight-washing

And give us FAT NINA, you cowards. Barbie Ferreira, preferably.

Dark

V. v. dark

Also check out Jamieson’s @ Jamishelves post on this.

     │The Raven Cycle│Maggie Steifvater│Series Rights Sold│

“Way back before you were born, Calla and Persephone and I were messing around with things we probably shouldn’t have been messing around with—” “Drugs?” “Rituals. Are you messing around with drugs?” “No. But maybe rituals.” “Drugs might be better.” “I’m not interested in them. Their effects are proven— where’s the fun in that? Tell me more.”

I’m currently reading this series and it’s just so brilliant.

It has to be big on characters! yes, the world is magical and incredible but the characters should always be first.

Also I wanna see lots of the psychics because they’re fucking funny and wise and honestly I just need Persephone and her whimsy self.

The relationship dynamics between all the members of the Gansey Gang are important. Don’t fuck with it. Any of it.

     Past Top 5 Tuesdays

 Top 5 Tuesday // Books I Would Save In A Fire – Fuck Everything Else, Let Me Save My Books…And Cat

 Top 5 Tuesday // Incredible Introductions – An Excuse to Share More Quotes

 Top 5 Tuesday // Character Driven Books – The Books with My favourite Monsters

I have thought about these far too much

What screen adaptations have you loved? What ones have you hated? What ones do you want to see? Which books did you want to never be touched by Hollywood at all? 

│Blog│Goodreads│Instagram│Twitter│Tumblr│

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[dreamin-of-somewhere-else]

Brown Cardboard Box

Characters: Dean x sister!reader, Sam [mentioned], Lisa + Ben.

Words: 2400-ish.

[Previous character death.] - That’s the only warning I can think of really.

A/N: Hey guys! Guess who wrote a fic instead of studying for a Spanish test? Anyways, I started re-watching season 6, because I wanted watch a few souless!Sam episodes, and after 6x01 I got this idea. So the fic takes place in between season 5 and 6. 

Not my GIF

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Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if you didn’t live the life. Wondering. Making up your own little scenarios and such. How you would live in Lawrence, and how you would have actually grown up there, how you would maybe have a pet (probably a dog, satisfying Sam’s everlasting love for them), how you would have childhood friends, how you would do sports in school. How you would all graduate and then how you would go to college. Grow up. Meet a partner (hopefully). Maybe have a family of your own someday.

Now, in this very moment, you were standing here with a brown cardboard box in your embrace. A single brown cardboard box containing whatever sad excuse of a wardrobe you had, as well as the few things that actually were yours. Photos, diaries, a gun and so on. You were moving into your own place. You never thought the day would come.

You had imagined it though. In your daydreams, infinite fantasies. In those, you were moving out to go to college. That wasn’t the case right now, but that’s whatever. You were getting your own place.

You never even had your own room. It was a big deal.

In your daydreams, you had imagined your mom and dad being there, helping out. But more importantly, your brothers. They had been there too. Now, your logic, the rational part of your mind, was telling you that it was probably unlikely. You were the youngest, so Dean and Sam had probably already moved out. Heck, maybe they would have been on the other side of the country. But still, your daydreams had no limits, and you always had wanted them there. Part of the scene, in frame. There when the cameras were rolling. Wishing you luck.

Now, in the real world, present time, Dean was here. It felt good and reassuring and it almost brought a smile to your face. Almost. It had, if it wasn’t for the fact that Sam wasn’t here.

Sam was dead. The cold hard truth that always caused a paralyzing pain through your body, twisting your stomach, and it felt like you couldn’t breath. It’s amazing (in an absolutely horrifying way) that a word can do that to you. But it could, and it kept being proven to you.

Sam wasn’t here. He wasn’t by your side, he wasn’t helping you carrying boxes (that should have been more than one) to your car. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even grunting in mock annoyance when you would have given him another thing to pretty please fix for you, like helping out with a second box. He wasn’t here to give you a goodbye hug. To tell you to stay safe and take it easy, or he (and Dean) would come and get you back home. He wasn’t here to wish you good luck. Or to ruffle your hair.

Sam was burning in hell, alongside with Lucifer and Michael. It still didn’t feel real, it was too absurd, too scary. Too disturbing. But the dull, but ever so lasting, throbbing pain inside of you, clenching your heart, told you otherwise.

Instead of Sam, there was Lisa and Ben. Dean’s new family.

Okay, you shouldn’t say it like that. Dean had told you off, saying that it wasn’t true. ’Don’t say that (Y/N).’

And maybe it was your realistic, fine, maybe cynical, viewpoint — but it kind of was the truth. For now, at least until Sam was back (because, yes, you would get him back). But, well, maybe for the future too. Who knows if he even wants to return to the life. Most people probably wouldn’t. Who would want to continuously risk their life for strangers, spending their life in a car, missing out on what most people just simply considers life. Why would you do that when you could have a real home, a partner, a kid, real food everyday, friends, stable routines? All that with a quite a lot higher percentage of a chance making it to a tomorrow.

Pretty much no one.

”Are you sure about this? I mean, you could just stay here?”

The voice is distant, kind of feels like you were underwater and someone was trying to talk to you from above the surface, but the words quite never reached you. You were too occupied with absentmindedly watching the beautiful speckles of light dancing in the water, broken sunlight, created by the water surface.

”(Y/N)?” Your big brother calling on you again brought you back from the sea of thoughts.

”Huh?”

”I said, are you sure you want to do this?” He gestured with a hand towards the cardboard box in your arms. ”You could just stay with me, Lisa and Ben. Right, Lis?”

Dean looked over his shoulder, where the dark-haired woman and her son stood. Her arm was gently draped around the preteen’s upper back, as they stood huddled together, watching you with kind, respectively curious eyes.

”Yeah, of course. The guest room’s always available—” Lisa nodded, but you interrupted her.

”Thanks, Lisa, I appreciate the offer. But I’m good.” You reassured her, and then looked back into Dean’s solemn, green eyes.

The truth was that you sort of felt like an outsider. A guest. You didn’t fit in. You were a piece of a different puzzle, a stray piece that got mixed up and ended up in the wrong box. This wasn’t your family. It never was meant to be. Dean was your family though. Dean and Sam.

But you couldn’t keep on living here. It was hard enough these first three weeks. It was hard leaving too. But your intuition, your gut feeling, was telling you that it was the better option. You didn’t wan’t to descend upon them anymore, gate-crashing. It was time for you to leave and go on — by yourself.

Because this, this was Dean’s. Dean’s own little family. That was ’stupid enough to take him in’ (not your words). Dean, who had been yours (and Sam’s) for all your life. Who laid down anything for you, no matter if you told him not to. And this was, for the first time, only his, and it was cosy, loving, and safe. And you didn’t want to ruin that, not for the world. It was his, and you wanted him to have it.

Speaking of Sam, you were going to find a way to bring back your other big brother. You would not stop until you got results, or you died. That was the only two possible outcomes. And that was a promise.

Dean’s lips curled into slight grimace that you could tell was supposed to be a little smile. He didn’t like this. Even though it was for his best. But he tried, for you. It hurt to look at him though, so you turned to Lisa. She immediately opened her arms, and you gratefully gave her a hug.

”Thanks for everything Lisa. Really. You took us in when we really needed it.” You pulled back from the hug and met her chocolate gaze. ”Tell me, whenever, if there is anything I can do to make it up to you. I owe you, big time.”

Lisa just smiled. ”It was nothing.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, but laughing a little meanwhile, to show that you weren’t serious. You would object, if you didn’t know that Lisa would immediately do the same, and you would just continue that way, forever.

You turned to Ben next. He was still in the age where hugs, if they weren’t from his mom, still were kind of awkward, and frankly uncool. So you settled on reaching out a hand, which he took and shook. And then, quickly before he could protest, you ruffled his hair.

”Promise me something Ben?” You asked, as you slightly bent down to his height. Then you pointed at Dean. ”Keep an eye on that one for me, would you? He can be pretty good at getting himself in sticky situation, but if you check in on him every now and then, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

”Yeah.” Ben grinned slightly as his round eyes turned to Dean, excited and proud that he had gotten that mission. To keep an eye on Dean. ”I promise.”

”Great.” You grinned back.

You glanced sideways, and caught Lisa smiling. And Dean… Dean himself looked even more emotional.

”Well,” you said as you bent down to pick up the box that you had sat down on the pavement by your feet before hugging Lisa. ”I probably should get going.”

Dean nodded, pensively.

”Bye, (Y/N).” Lisa waved.

”Bye!” Ben echoed behind.

You smiled, before starting walking away from their porch and towards your parked car on the street. Dean followed next to you, if not slightly behind.

Once you reached the car, it was quiet for a moment. But, with you and your brothers, silence wasn’t awkward or scary — sometimes it was needed. And you three could always tell when. So you just waited for Dean collect his thoughts. Soon enough he did speak up.

”You sure you don’t wanna stay here?” He pressed a last time, gruff voice laced with hope, his green eyes almost pleading.

”I need to go, Dean.”

”Why?”

The question left his mouth before he could stop it. It was innocent, almost childlike. It made you feel guilty.

”You know why, Dean-o.” You smiled sadly. ”This is for you. Not for me.”

Dean nodded and looked away. He kind of looked teary eyed, but you weren’t going to point that out.

”I’m gonna be less than an hour away.” You tried to lighten the mood. ”It’s nothing. You can visit whenever, easily. And you better.” You quickly added that last sentence, while you nailed him with a hard gaze.

Dean chuckled just a little. You smiled. It was nice to know that you still knew how to get a laugh out of your brother. Still had it in you.

”I promise.” He smiled back, this time an actual one, as he repeated Ben’s words. ”If you promise to swing by here every now and then.”

”Deal.” You agreed, and you fell in silence again.

Dean looked sad. Actually even more so than you had expected.

You could imagine how he was feeling. How he didn’t want you to go your separate ways. Because, in a way, that meant that Dean lost another sibling. That it would only be Dean, on his own in the world. Of course, he had Lisa and Ben. But they weren’t you and Sam, because you two were a part of Dean. Lisa and Ben were a part of the world Dean had to face.

It was hard for Dean to let you go. All his life, he had been watching over you. Keeping you right by his side, under his protection. Hunting together. Dealing with the crap life had thrown at you. Seeing the country with you. Meeting new people with you, sharing friends. Basically doing everything together. And now you wouldn’t even live together anymore.

Slowly, you turned around to your car, that you had been facing away from whilst talking to your oldest brother, and opened the passenger door and placed the cardboard box in the seat. It wasn’t like anyone was sitting there anyway, like it had been for all your life. You were truly on your own now.

When you turned back towards Dean, he surprised you by enveloping you with his arms, clutching tight, hiding his face in your hair. You gently patted his back, and held on tight as well.

”I’ll miss you, squirt.” He murmured quietly, but loud enough for you to hear it clearly. The words tugged at your heartstrings, and suddenly you doubted your decision.

But, then you regained your determination again. Dean’s life. Dean’s family.

”I’ll miss you too, jerk.” You smiled into his shoulder. You really, really would.

It wasn’t like you never would see each other again. But when you go from living with a person, seeing them everyday — to once every two weeks, once a month or maybe even every other month — it was difficult. Especially when this person was not only your brother, but your best friend and right now the only person you had left of your family.

But you let him go. And he lets you go. After placing a lingering hand on his cheek, giving him a final smile, you walked around the car, and got in behind the wheel.

Hand placed on his hip, Dean ran a hand over his face, thinking that you wouldn’t notice, but you did. You didn’t point it out though.

You closed the door, and started the car. Rolling down the windows, you said goodbye to Dean once again. He appeared at the window, sending you a shadow of a smile.

”Good luck, (Y/N).” He said with a gentle voice, slightly strangled, if not.

”Good luck, Dean.” You responded. Always good luck to you. You and Sam.

Then he tapped the car twice before straightening up. You nodded meanwhile.

It was hard to press down on the gas, but eventually you just did. Driving away from the Lisa’s street, you looked through the rearview mirror. There you saw them, Dean, Lisa and Ben, all waving at you. You stretched out your arm through the window by the driver’s seat — that also was rolled down — and waved back. Soon, they were out of sight.

The weather of this moment was beautiful. It was a sunny and warm evening in May (one of your favorite months). Everything was mildly lit up in this golden light, and the sun was about to set on the blue sky decorated with pink and orange tinted clouds. The wind, as you drove, tousled your hair.

You glanced over at the brown cardboard box — that was just sitting there in the passenger seat — and that’s when you saw the old photos sticking up from the bundle of flannel that you had quite carelessly thrown in there.

You took your eyes away and focused on the road. You didn’t even need to inspect the most visible photo, to know what it pictured. You had already seen it so many times, in fact it was one of your most prized possessions.

It was one of you, Sam and Dean all together, smiling. It was taken a few years ago. You were only 18 in that one, barely an adult. Sam was 22 and fresh out of college, and Dean — full on laughing — was 26, wearing John’s old leather jacket, as well as the amulet and was happy to have his little siblings together and right by his side again. So that he could watch out for them like the mother hen he was and tease you senseless like the annoying bastard he also could be.

You missed those times. Of course you did. But more than that, the photo built onto the burning fire of pure determination to get the three of you back. You were going to take another photo like that, all three of you together, smiling happily.

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[chmergess4ever]

Boomin (Part 3)

Hey Everybody! Thank you for your response to Part 2 of this story! It always makes me so happy reading what you all have to say! Here is part 3 of the story. I will say in advance that there will be another part after this one and that will be the final part. It is written and ready to go but the more likes, comments, and reblogs I get the sooner I will post. I can’t wait for you guys to read it! This is  one of my favorite stories to write. Thanks for the support. 

P.S. It’s really long. I just can’t find a way to shorten them. 

The months went by faster than one could imagine, and Val and Sharna continued going strong in their relationship. They had begun a new season of Dancing with the Stars and were both doing well with their new partners. Outside of the show, they had shared many laughs and created many new memories, along with having their fair share of fights, but never ones that didn’t end with a kiss. Their relationship was perfect and it was looking like it was headed in the right direction.

In week 5 of the competition, Sharna had received the first perfect score of the season with her partner. The night was filled with congratulatory tweets and texts which made her incredibly happy but her favorite was the picture of her and her partner receiving their tens, that Val had posted on his instagram with the caption, “This one, got the first perfect score of the season. Congrats to my @SharnaBurgess. I agree with them. You’re all 10’s.”

She liked it and replied with a bunch of heart eye emojis.

Later on that night she was laying in bed scrolling through instagram and trying to think of ideas for their next dance. Val was fast asleep next to her, but his breathing kept her steady. She liked to listen to him, it was peaceful to her. She started scrolling through itunes trying to find the version of the song that they had been assigned, when a new text message notification popped up on her phone. The name read, “Laurie Hernandez”. Sharna clicked the message and smiled as she read the message.

“Shar! Congrats on your fabulous score tonight!”

“Hey Nugget! Thanks!! It’s been awhile. How are you?” A few minutes passed but then her phone rang with a response, “I’m great! Missin my Big Sis.”

Sharna smiled and typed back, “Missing my little sis. You free tomorrow? Want to grab some breakfast?”

Immediately the typing bubble popped up on the screen. “Of course I do. Fratelli’s at 10?”

“You got it. See you then.” Sharna locked her phone and set it on the bedside table. She then turned off the lamp and moved closer to Val nustling into him, her back pressed up against his chest. He resituated himself and wrapped his arm around her, kissing the top of her head.

“Goodnight baby. I love you.” He said groggily.

“You too.” She grabbed his hand and held it as she fell asleep.

The next morning Sharna woke up to an empty bed. There was a note left on the pillow that said that Val had gone to the studio to start practicing early. She always loved the notes he left her if he had woken up before her. They had gotten into the habit of spending every night together whether at her place or Val’s but they each had a key to the others and seldomly ever spent the night apart. She took the note and put it in her nightstand drawer where she saved all the others that he had left her, along with a bunch of other little memorabilia symbolizing their relationship. She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for her breakfast. She then walked out into the bedroom and made the bed before shutting out the light and walking out into the main space of her apartment. She had a glass of water and then headed out for her breakfast. As soon as she arrived at fratelli’s she was greeted Yaron Abraham. “Ms. Burgess. What brings you here today?”

Sharna smiled. “Just meeting Laurie.”

“Oh Val’s not coming?” “Not today.”

“Ok Then. We’ll seat you in the back corner.” He brought her over to the table in the far corner where they would be hidden from the ground.

Ten minutes later Laurie arrived and ran over to Sharna, “Shar!!!” Sharna jumped up out of her seat and pulled Laurie in for a hug. “Ahh, I missed you!” “You too” She scrunched up her nose and smiled. She then moved to the other side of the table and sat down. Shortly after Yaron walked over to the table. “What can I get for two of the most important women in my nephew’s life?”

“Egg whites and wheat toast please.” Sharna smiled at him.

“I’ll have the same.” Laurie waited till he left and then looked at Sharna. “So, How have you been? You look dashing! As always” Laurie smiled and started fiddling with the straw.

“I’m great!! Everything’s been great!!” “And how’s Val?”

The waiter brought them each over a cup of coffee. Sharna waited till he left and then spoke again, “Val’s amazing. He’s great. We’re great. I’ve never been happier.” Sharna took a sip of her coffee, “And how’s your love life? I know you wanted to start dating.”

“Ahh, that brings us to our next topic of conversation.” “Oh?” Sharna raised her eyebrows in questioning.

“So, you know how you said I could come talk to you about-” Sharna smiled, knowing what was coming. “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, I’ve been dating this guy for a little more than two months now.”

“Oooo. What’s his name?” “Jake. I really really like him. But how do you know-” Laurie took a pause and a deep breath. “When you’re ready?”

“Ready for what?” Sharna was unsure as to what was going to be asked. She began taking a sip of coffee when Laurie spoke again.

“Ready to have sex.”

Sharna did a spit take and her coffee flew across the table. Laurie scrunched from getting sprayed in coffee. Sharna coughed trying to clear her throat and get a bearing on things. “I’m sorry. I was not expecting that.”

“Clearly.”

“Laurie, you’re young, sweetie.”

“I’m 17. And I really like him. Really really like him.”

“When it comes to this it’s not really about liking. It’s about feeling comfortable enough with someone to give yourself to them. It takes time.”

“You slept with Val right away.”

Sharna took a breath before formulating her next thoughts. “Two completely different situations. A) I knew Val for a long long time before we got together and B) I’m an adult. Feelings are more developed and established at an age like mine. Sex isn’t something that you rush into sweetheart. People do. I’m not going to say that I haven’t. But starting right, is the right way to go. It’s so much better with someone who loves you.”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Who? Jake?”

“Yeah. What if I don’t sleep with him and he breaks up with me?”

“Then he doesn’t deserve you. Never has and never will. If he likes you enough, he will wait for you.”

Laurie nodded taking in the advice she so desperately needed from one of the people she looked up to most in this world. “Thanks Shar.”

“Anytime. Nugget.”

The rest of the day went peacefully. Sharna had finished breakfast with Laurie and then had asked her if she wanted to come to the studio to visit everyone. She happily obliged and spent the day with her former cast members. She gave Sharna a big hug before she left thanking her again, and Sharna reminded her that she’s too special to sacrafice her happiness for someone else’s.

Later that night, she went over to Val’s after agreeing that they would spend the night at his place. She found him lying in bed on his phone. He was wearing basketball shorts and no shirt. He smiled when he saw her. “Hey, you.”

Sharna walked over to him and kissed him before putting her stuff down on the chair in the corner of his room. “I’m just going to take a shower. It’s been a long day.”

“Can I come with?”

“Like you even have to ask.”

About an hour later, after an extra long shower, Sharna stayed in the bathroom cleansing her face as Val walked into his bedroom and got ready to go to sleep. She slipped into one of his flannels that he had left for her and walked out into the bedroom to meet him. He was lying in the bed on his back, facing up at the ceiling. The lamp on her side had been left on so she could find her way to bed. She made her way around, setting her phone on the nightstand and climbed in bed under the covers. She sat up, with her back against the headboard as she grabbed a magazine that she had brought with her and began flipping through it. “So, you want to hear about my morning?” She asked the man next to her.

“I always do.”

“So Laurie asked me about sex.”

“What?” Val’s eyes shot open and he propped himself up to look at her.

“When we went out to breakfast she told me about her new boyfriend and asked how she’d know if she was ready to have sex with him because she thought she was.”

“She’s not.”

“I know that. And I told her. Don’t worry.”

“Jeez. Shar. You gave me a near heart attack. My innocent little Laurie.”

Sharna threw the magazine on the table next to her and started running her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes again. “She accused me of not waiting, because me and you did it right away.”

“You and I did it after knowing each other for over 10 years.”

“That’s what I told her.”

“Good. Kids these days.” “You broke yours when you were young.”

“Yea, but it was a mistake and I’m also not little innocent Laurie.”

“I agree with you.” Sharna reached to turn the lamp off and slid down into bed. “I’m still glad she felt comfortable enough to come talk to me. It was such a mom moment.” She smiled nestling into him.

Val pulled her closer and wrapped his arm around her. “You’d be such a good mom.”

“You think one day we will-” “Yes babe. One day we will have everything together.”

Their relationship continued smooth sailing from there. 1 year of laughs and new memories, 1 year of fights that always ended with a kiss ,and 1 year of complete love. Their relationship had lasted through every obstacle it was presented with and had proven itself strong enough to last through anything.

After winning season 24 with her partner, Sharna took the summer off from work allowing herself to go with Val on tour for Maks and Val: Our Way Part 2. She traveled to every city with him enjoying every show as much as the last. She loved being an aunt to Shai and getting to see his shining face every day, it only made her more excited for her future with Val. After the tour they both competed in another season of Dancing with the Stars but weren’t as lucky this time around, landing in 5th and 7th place but as fan favorites they were still asked to headline the winter tour together. They happy agreed, excited to head out on the road and meet their fans. The show was filled with upbeat numbers along with some slow dances. Upon request by the fans, Sharna and Val danced together in all the group numbers and had 2 individual dances together. One Rumba and one Samba. The audiences were loving the show, fully engaged with each individual number. The meet and greets were hugely successful as well, they both loved meeting fans, it was one of their favorite parts of being on tour.

They were now halfway through the tour and were making their annual stop at Radio City. All of Val’s friends and family were attending the show as they all lived in New York. They performed the show with no mistakes and it seemed as if it was their best run of it yet. When it was over they all bowed individually, Sharna and Val receiving the biggest cheers and claps as the favorites of many members in the audience. The confetti fell and music began playing before Val grabbed the microphone from one of the crew members. He ran back out on stage.

“Everybody. Everybody.”

He grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. Sharna looked around at her castmates confused. “Can you all just take a seat for a second please.” He cleared his throat. “On behalf of the DWTS Tour cast and crew, I would truly like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Please give yourself a hand.” Everyone clapped until Val silenced them. “But in addition, while I have your attention, I’d like to do something else. How many of you are here with your significant other tonight” People raised their hands and screamed. “Well, you see it’s an incredibly nice thing to be with the person you love everyday. And I’m grateful to be able to be with my love all throughout this tour.

“Chmergesss!!!!” Someone yelled from the audience.

“Yes. Yes. Chmergess.” Val started walking to the side of the stage. “So, depending on how closely you follow us, you know that Sharna and I have been dating for about a year now.”

Everyone cheered.

“Endgame!!!” Alex yelled knowing Val would know it was him.

Val continued talking, “But we’ve known each other for a lot longer and I feel comfortable enough to share with you all that I am more in love than I have ever been before.” More cheers from the audience erupted. “Now New York, is a special place for me. My family is here. My friends for here, and it’s where I grew up. So I figured why not add another special moment in New York? Right?” Again, the audience cheered. “So, Can i please ask my love to come up here and join me on the stage.”

Emma and Lindsay pushed Sharna forward to the front of the stage on the opposite side from Val. “Sharna, you told me a year ago, that you wanted a relationship with hearts and flowers, and from the moment we became a couple I promised myself that I would do everything I could to make sure you had hearts and flowers. So with the help of some friends, I’d like to give them to you.” Val turned to the audience. “Everyone who was given a rose tonight from Mr. Alan Bersten at the meet and greet, can you please come join me on the stage?” Twelve different people of different ages started walking to the stage. “.They all held a single rose. Once they were all on the stage and standing in between Val and Sharna, Val spoke “Sharna, these 12 people are super fans of yours. During the meet and greet, I spotted the biggest fans of yours and then signaled to Alan to deliver them with special instructions. They admire you to the moon and back and would do anything for you. But I want you to take how they feel about you, quadruple it and add some. That’s how I feel about you.” He pointed to his chest. He started making his way across the line of people and as he passed them he would take their rose and say something. He reached the first girl who was 13. He took her rose in his hand. “Rose 1. She loves you because you teach her to be a better person. I love you because you make me a better person” he continued walking doing the same for each rose. “rose 6. He loves you because he thinks you’re hot. I love you because I think you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He was gathering all the roses in his hand. He reached the last one. “Rose 12. She loves you for the person you make everyone adore. I love you for the person you made me fall in love with.” He was now holding a bouquet of roses and standing in front of her. “I love you Sharna Burgess. And i want you to know that every day with me will be special no matter where we are. You’re my life. You’re my love. You’re my heart and I’d like to ask you to be one more thing.” Val pulled a ring box out of his pocket and got down on one knee. “Sharna Burgess. I love you, and I always will. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Sharna felt tears streaming down her face. “Yes, Baby. Yes.” Val got up and picked her up spinning her around. Everyone clapped and cheered. She kissed him. He set her down and took her left hand, removing the ring from the box and sliding it on her finger. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She rested her forehead against his. The cast swarmed them in hugs. Val quickly came to the front. “That’s a wrap. Thank you to everyone for coming out. Tune in to Dancing with the Stars in March!”

“So we’re engaged.” Sharna said as threw her bag on the couch of the tour bus and cuddled up in a corner.

“Yes we are.” Val sat next to her putting his arm around her and kissing her.

“It’s soo shiny.” She held up her hand looking at her new Harry Winston engagement ring.

“Only the best for the best.” He tilted her chin up so he could press his lips to hers.

“Sharna! Hold up your hand!” She heard Emma call. She continued kissing Val and held up her hand. All the girls surrounding Emma “awed.”

“Let me see.” sharna waved her hand for Emma to come over. Emma handed her the phone and Sharna smiled when she saw the picture. “Can I send it to myself?”

“Of course you can.”

Sharna did as she asked and then opened the picture sending it to Val and then clicking the share button. Instagram opened and Sharna picked the natural setting, leaving it without a filter. She then thought about a caption before she typed it and came up with the perfect one. “Engaged to my love, @iamvalc. We’ve made it through pretty little liars, and a whole bunch of roses but it was totally worth the wait. He’s the love of my life and I’m so glad I got to say yes. Also, #Nofilter -the diamond is just that sparkly.”

Val laughed when he read the caption over his shoulder. “You’re too much.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened instagram. He added the picture and then typed the caption. “She said yes. So glad I got to share this moment with my love. In front of my friends and family. Best night of my life. Thank you @sharnaburgess. Thank you for making me the happiest man alive.”

Sharna read it and gave him a kiss. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”