#we got episodes fifteen and sixteen bunched together I think

[heyclickadee]

The more I think about The Bad Batch as a complete show but incomplete story, the more I think that if they’re doing what I think they could be doing, the more I think it could work really well from a storytelling perspective. So well that I’m actually annoyed about it.

[ro-rogue]

i have very mixed feelings about the new bostin confrontation that got john expelled.

it is portrayed as the worst of john's actions in new bostin, his lowest, most violent moment. and while that last part is not untrue, i feel like the confrontation is a lot more complicated than just john going insane.

by that point, john had already been king for a little while, and he was absolutely terrible at it. (i've written before on why i think that is, and even his objectively horrible actions here were not excusable but understandable.) claire decided he needed to be stopped, and she gathered a bunch of their schoolmates to confront him, as her vision had shown. then, instead of trying to talk it out, zirian (one of the people she had gathered, for some reason) immediately attacked john, and everything devolved from there.

now, a few things stick out to me here:

first of all, claire took zirian with her to confront john. the question is: why? john and zirian had already fought on multiple occassions, and last time they fought, john had beaten zirian. did claire think seeing someone john defeated in a fair fight would make him realize he was a horrible person? did she think that if people saw zirian, they too would be willing to confront john? but wouldn't those people then think they were going to beat john up? did she not realize that if people believed her lie enough to follow her, they would be prepared to act on it too? i really struggle with her thought process here.

next, zirian thought that they could beat john if they all worked together. this supports my theory that the kids in new bostin had absolutely no idea how powerful a god-tier was. the wellston kids would never try to gang up like that on pre-ability loss seraphina - they knew she was too strong.

however, they did gang up on john at least sixteen-to-one (in episode 185, the shot with the most classmates shows sixteen people). when claire was telling the story to seraphina, she made it sound like it was completely unreasonable that john assumed that a group of people who all hated him, at least some of whom he had fought before, including the former king, would want to attack and overthrow him. "he refused to listen" is true, and something john has struggled with a lot both before and after the ambush, but to be honest, in his shoes, i also wouldn't have believed claire.

moreover, he is criticized for going too far in beating them up, but imo that mostly applies to claire and adrion, who weren't actually attacking him. the other fifteen kids were very clearly willing to hurt him just as much as he ended up hurting them. besides, they were attacking him fifteen-to-one, with claire standing to the side - what was john supposed to do? hold back?

the answer, of course, is yes: he should've. it was absolutely not right for him to go that far. but we must understand that john was sixteen, stressed, hurt, and facing people who were likely his former bullies, in the sense that everyone used to bully him.

(plus claire, who gathered everyone there, and how was he supposed to know that she didn't mean for it to turn out like that? and plus adrion, who called the authorities on him, which was objectively a good decision, but it can be hard to see it that way when you're the one who the cops are being called on)

in addition to that, if seraphina or even arlo had been ganged up on like that, no one would be surprised if they, too, fucked up their opponents. (remember that turf war back in episode 17/18/something? where arlo clearly wasn't just going to stop hurting rein, not until seraphina physically stopped him?) john was out of control and very much Not Okay, but his handling of the ambush actually seems to be quite typical for a god-tier.

so to conclude, the new bostin ambush/confrontation was more complex than simply john going crazy, and while both he and claire definitely think that he is the only one at fault there and he acted completely irrationally, that isn't actually the case, and uno readers should be aware that we are viewing the story from the perspectives of biased and thus unreliable narrators.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper -Pt 14

Paring: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Warnings: just a bunch of fluffy family fluff, some dude being a nosy creep, overbearing mothers Length: 1.1 k Notes: This one is slow, babes. Just needed to build a bit of this new world, introduce Annie a bit and show you how things are progressing. It’ll pick up again soon I promise, bear with me! (Or don’t, I mean I can’t force you to like where this is going, lolz) Also, just typed this up tonight while raging at the laziness of men, so there are going to be mistakes, I can’t be fucked to find them. Trying to post this with NO links, as I’ve heard that may be the reason for the tagging issues? LET ME KNOW IF YOU GET THE NOTIFICATION THIS TIME!

Turns out, two people with zero child-caring experience are not going to have an easy time suddenly becoming parents. There wasn't any one particular thing that you could pinpoint the difficulty one, either, it was just a complete one-eighty on how you had previously lived your lives.

Frankie immediately stopped working such late hours, effectively putting a bookmark in the cider's expansion. He didn't even have to think twice about it, it was a no-brainer to him. Didn't make the loss of potential income an easy pill to swallow, though. Date nights were officially off the schedule, so were sleepovers and all the fun things that accompanied them. There had been a few heated moments between the two of you, but Frankie felt weird about having sex anywhere near his daughter and you refused to let him fuck you in the barn. Again. Especially after the last two times resulted in unfortunate splinter placement. 

Annie took less time to adjust than the two of you did, she really was an amazing little girl. She loved her little nook in the loft, although the décor was not to her taste and she wouldn't stop dropping hints about it until you took her to pick out new everything. Frankie had tried to put his foot down by explaining she wasn't going to get everything she wanted in life, but all it took were widening eyes and a protruding bottom lip before he was handing you the truck keys before you could blink.

Annie's attachment to you had surprised everybody, including her. The conversations you and Frankie had had before her arrival usually skirted around the conversation of what your role would be. You knew she was mourning her mother and were wary of trying to replace her, so you had fully expected to take a step back from Frankie's life while he and Annie built their new one together. You had her at apple farm, however, and now the two of you were best buds.

Well, until the six-going-on-sixteen attitude reared its ugly head and suddenly sweet, angelic Annie was replaced by a stubborn, moody, unwilling child who decided that screaming was the best response to negotiations.

For the first couple of months, Frankie had allowed it, not knowing what was normal acting-out behaviour for a kid who had experienced parental loss. He also had a hard time being strict, as he still felt like it wasn't his place; some weird kind of imposter syndrome. However, after Jacquie and Mark had been witness to one such episode, they had gently pulled Frankie aside and encouraged him to find a therapist for Annie and that structure and rules would be beneficial for her.

New routines were set, some of which you were involved in and others were special between Frankie and his daughter. Saturday was movie night, she was asleep by 7:30 so it was more of a movie evening, with popcorn, Twizzlers, and coke floats. You were invited to these, as Annie insisted on educating both adults on which Disney princess was best.

Frankie drove Annie to school every day, he knew he could easily send her on the bus but he needed that extra assurance that she had gotten to school safely. There had been an odd incident, which no other adults seem to have witnessed, where a man had apparently approached Annie and started asking her questions about her parents. 

This had, understandably, upset the girl, and the two of you, but the busy body's identity was never revealed. Frankie had been irate. Initially, he interrogated Annie, asking her for every little detail. Then the bus driver, parking lot attendant, teachers, and other kids were subject to his questioning. He went so far as to request all security video footage from around town, but nothing showed up. Neither of you suspected Annie of lying but it was like the man was a ghost. 

Eventually, it was chalked up to a parent wanting to get the scoop on your and Frankie's lives, as you'd been very private considering your first action as a couple was to practically dry hump on a carnival ride. After that incident causing Frankie's panic attack, and now creeping out a kid, you were a lot less inclined to appreciate the meddling from bored townsfolk even if it did bring the two of you together.

Frankie was always thinking up new ideas to build trust and create new memories for Annie, his guilt at missing out on her toddler years was exasperated by having her now. They created a memory book for her, so she could write down, colour, or paste anything that reminded her of her mom or her life in California. You were secretly building a memory book for the two of them, to show Annie when she was older how hard her dad had worked to become the man she needed him to be.

Twice a week Annie got to pick the recipe and they made dinner together. This usually resulted in a massive mess and only semi-edible food, but the smiles on their faces were worth it.

On Wednesdays, you picked her up and had a girl's afternoon getting something from the bakery and perusing books at the library, making up stories about the people walking by the café windows, or driving over to Jacquie's so Annie could play with her kids.

It was after one such outing when you were dropping Annie off at the farm, that Frankie came out to greet you with a guilty look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he began, rubbing the back of his neck and readjusting his baseball cap. "I didn't look at the caller display before picking up, and then once I was on the phone I got nervous."

"Frankie," you said lowly, dread filling your stomach. "What did you do?"

"I couldn't help it, I panic talked and I don't even know how much I blurted out! She's like Oprah or Barbara Walters! She just knows how to get people talking!"

"I know, Frankie," you ground out, trying not to lose your shit in front of a very interested little girl who has no filter during Sharing Time at school. "That's why we don't answer her calls!"

"But, babe, she's your mom. We can't keep ignoring her-"

"Apparently not!" You didn't realize how frustrated you were before it was too late. Your voice had gone shrill and loud and, judging by the look at Annie's face, angry. Taking a deep, calming breath in you tried smiling at the two of them without it making you look demented, "I need to call her and do some damage control, make sure she doesn't do something rash like-"

"Ahhh..." Frankie was back to looking guilty and you could have sworn your heart stopped. "She knows about Annie. Called herself Grandma. Said that Mother's Day would be extra special this year..?"

"FUuuuuuudge.." you barely managed to withhold the swear, looking at Frankie with a slightly panicked yet amused look on your face.

"It's okay," a little voice piped up, "I know that word. Mom said ‘Fuck’ all the time while we were stuck in traffic."

Part Fifteen - coming soon!

TAGS: Let’s see if these bitches work...

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov @trash-dino-5000 @reader-s-cantina @alberta-sunrise @pascal-rascal424 @bts17army @sarahjkl82-blog @grogusmum @radiowallet @vonschweetz @greeneyedblondie44 @diaryofkali @cassandras-nest @silverstarsandsuns @haapeaness @missstef23 @computeringturtle @julesorwhatever @keeper0fthestars @lackofhonor @metahigh @thirstworldproblemss @sergeantbannerbarnes @callsigncatfish @inaturenymph @agingerindenial @pedritobalmando @lord-of-restingbiface @marydjarin @sebbys-girl @apascalrascal @thisshipwillsail316 @bison-writes @absurdthirst @ubri812 @marydjarin @inaturenymph @hyperfixatingmenever @louderrthanthunderr @petersunderoos96 @dobbyjen @tobealostwanderer @studyofawearymind @jaime1110 @bison-writes @rosiefridayrogersunday @leias-rebelion  @captainjaspenor @prettypedros @gracie7209 @peterhollandkait

[swisssadge]

Illogicalities in Saint Seiya

Prepare for a longish post. n.n

But I guess I just need to get this out. Because some of these are just so god-awful frustrating.As much as I love Saint Seiya - some blaring logic mistakes just HURT. And it hurts because the original series could have been so much more if so incredibly much potential hadn’t been wasted. Not every bad writing or mistake is because it is a child of its time (80s anime and their damsels in distres *glances at Saori*). 

So, as you’ll unsurprisingly notice, most points are from the original series. Because the spin-offs don’t suffer from the same amount of logic mistakes and do quite a lot things waaay better. And should I find even more things during a rewatch - prepare for part 2. n.n I hope to hear your opinion on what I wrote, and whether you agree or not.

-        What is wrong with the people in Sanctuary? There are two instances I can remember right now: How totally racist they are in the classic saga, and how mean they were the Sisyphus in the gaiden, blaming him to only have received the Sagittarius Cloth because of his brother Ilias’s state as a hero. In the classic saga, I can kinda understand because Saga is at the helm. But in Lost Canvas, Sage is Pope. Why did any of the higher-ups allow such mean people enter the service and Sanctuary of Athena – goddess of wisdom and justice? WHY?! I mean, yeah, the soldiers and Saints are just humans, and humans make mistakes, but come on. They should be at least better than that. Else, I don’t think they deserve to even be in Sanctuary.

-        So, the ages… Saint Seiya really got a problem with those. Firstly, 10-year old Shura doesn’t look like 10-year old Shura in that flashback of his fight against Aiolos. Next, I have checked Marin’s age; she’s supposed to be 16 at the beginnig of the series. And she trained Seiya for 6 years…? Dammit, she does look even close to 10 in that flashback when Seiya was brought to her! Besides, she never has the air of a 16-year old in the entire series. And who in their right mind would make a 10-year old teacher to anybody? Then, even though I don’t like it, I have to mention the Crystal Saint. So, Camus is 20 in the anime. Firstly, the Crystal Saint looks so old, that he probably had been older than Camus when he had been his student. Shame we don’t have confirmation of his age. Anyways, I guess Camus must have been thirteen to fifteen at least when teaching him. Geez… what the hell is it with young kids teaching even younger kids? No wonder Sanctuary was crumbling.

-        Remember that episode in which the new gruesome training is shown, where people even die? It really questions the Gold Saints‘ intelligence, if they by then don’t wonder if something might be wrong in Sanctuary. And they don’t. It needs the real Athena and five Bronze Saints to open their eyes. -.- Who's high and mighty now, Shaka?

-        I really can’t believe none of the Bronze Saints knew of the existence of the Gold Saints. After all, Hyoga (yes, I ignore anime-only Crystal Saint, who may be a chill guy but who only complicates matters and throws logic out the window) and Shiryu were trained by two of them. I can’t imagine their teachers not telling them. Plus, Seiya trained in Sanctuary itself. He’s bound to know, especially considering his friendship with Aiolia. And even worse, do you remember that one or two instances in the anime in which is hinted not even the Gold Saints themselves knew of each other’s existence? How fake Pope Saga acts all surprised and stating in an asking tone that Aiolia is a Gold Saint. And all while freaking Milo is kneeling in front of him in his Gold Cloth. And even Milo acts surprised after the rest of the Gold Cloths are revealed. HOW??? Yeah, thanks for nothing, anime. At least the manga and the new Episode Zero confirm that the twelve Gold Saints grew up together and that they all earned their Cloths prior to Aiolos‘ death.

-        Seika and Marin. Seiya’s sister and mentor. There are some issues I have with how several people seemed to suspect Marin being really Seika. Firstly. When would Seika have had the time to become a fully-fledged Silver Saint? She wasn’t even training back in the Kido mansion. Plus, she was still at the Kido mansion the day Seiya was taken to Greece. Remember that scene where she runs after the car taking him away. Oh, not to forget that Seika apparently vanished ONE WHOLE YEAR after Seiya left for Greece. And Marin is already a Silver Saint by the time he arrives there. Seika would have needed to have been in two places at the same time. Also, if Seika was in Rodorio village the entire time: Shouldn’t Seiya have encountered her by chance in the course of several years? I can’t imagine she stayed inside all the time.

-        Uhm, in the Asgard arc, Shiryu got buried by the same avalanche as Fenrir. So why did Fenrir die and Shiryu not? Shiryu even was beaten up by his fight with Fenrir, while Fenrir didn’t even have a scratch!

-        Um… in Omega… why are there already children of five to seven years training WITH CLOTHS??? I don’t get it. I seriously don’t get it. Where did they get those Cloths from? I mean, I can understand Ryuho, having inherited it from his father Shiryu. But the others? That Lynx Saint friend of Ryuho’s? And weren’t there a little Yuna and a little Soma too – in their Cloths? WHERE THE HELL DID THEY GET THEM FROM??? I seriously cannot imagine any child already earning a Cloth! Seiya had to defeat ten opponents to get his (and was about thirteen at the time). Sisyphus had to land at least one blow against Lugonis wearing the Pisces Cloth, as was probably fifteen-ish to seventeen-ish at that time. So why are suddenly children running around in Cloths?! Isn’t it enough that it is already claimed that the Classic Gold Saints became Saints around the age of 7? Sheesh. I like the idea Teshirogi brought in Lost Canvas far more. Sisyphus was about fourteen or fifteen, maybe sixteen by the time he fought Lugonis for his Gold Cloth. And he was the first, meaning that Aspros and Hasgard were even a little older when they got their Cloths. I don’t get it… I simply don’t get it. Well, at least, in the flashback of his training with Aiolos, Aiolia didn’t seem to have earned the Leo Cloth, and he seems to be six to eight years old back then. Though, duh, it contradicts official statements.

-        While writing a fanfic, a strange notion occured to me… Seiya and Cassios were both living with their masters, Marin and Shaina, right? And female Saints are required to never show their faces to any male, right? So… how the hell did they eat? I mean, didn’t they eat together? Because to eat, Marin and Shaina would have to put away their masks. Did they eat first or did they wait until their students had finished? But even so, the cabin’s are small… Seiya and Cassios would have had to look away the entire time their masters were having their meal. Gee… I don’t get it at all. What a shitty image that they shouldn’t eat together. I mean, they do have a bond as masters and students. And eating is part of the package, especially if said master and student live in the same cabin.

-        So, in the manga all of the bronze boys are siblings, sons of Mitsumasa Kido. That would mean, Seika is his daughter too. And we know that Kido fathered all those children so that Athena would have Saints at her side. My question: Why did Seika never train? Her being a girl is no excuse to me, because, well, Shaina and Marin. Unless Mitsumasa couldn't bring himself to send girls too. Still… with one hundred children, there are bound to be girls too. And if only the boys were sent, then they used that number rather loosely. Because then there wouldn't have been 100 children attempting to earn Cloths, but perhaps like what, 90, 80, maybe even only 70 or 60? Unless he fathered waaaay more than 100 children and kept going until he had 100 boys. Which would be, frankly, disturbing.

-        So, why did Aiolos have to fight any of the normal guards of Sanctuary in the first place? Gold Saints are said to move at the speed of light. And that speed should not be hindered by the barrier over Sanctuary, which only prevents teleportation. So, technically, shouldn't Aiolos have been even well out of Sanctuary before the other Gold Saints had even been alerted?

-        So, how did Aphrodite and Shura in Episode Zero already know Aiolos was a traitor? None of the guards could have been able to reach Pisces or Capricorn before Aiolos. Deathmask I do understand – after all, Aiolos had to go through Aphrodite, Shura, and had to patch himself up in Sagittarius. But Aphrodite and Shura? It would make sense if Saga had sent a telepathic message, but: 1., wouldn't that have given his identity away? And 2.: We never see him doing it, only dispatch some guards. So to me, he never did it in the first place.

-        We learn from several sources, the latest one being Episode Zero, that Saga was sent on a mission to keep an eye on Poseidon and his activities. That he kinda vanished while doing that. But then he turns up on Star Hill to kill Shion. I ask – how? How was he able to get into Sanctuary without anyone seeing or noticing him? ESPECIALLY if he needed to cross the Twelve Houses. Yes, according to Episode Zero, most of the Gold Saints were absent on their special training. But come on. At least Shura would have been suspicious. Plus, how the hell did nobody notice the explosion of Cosmos when he killed Shion? Unless it is canon that he killed Shion with a punch through the chest. If not, then I don't believe nobody noticed.

-        How is it that after the Silver Saint arc, we see nobody train for any Cloth anymore? You should think that with so many Silvers gone, Athena would seek successors. I mean, the war against Hades was drawing close! How on earth did NOBODY think of stocking up their ranks? Not Athena, not the Gold Saints, not even freaking Dohko, who after Shion's passing should be the most experienced one of the bunch. Yes, yes, focus could have remained on the protagonists. But at least a little something? Like one of the Gold Saints traveling around, finding possible new recruits? Some of the Bronzes perhaps helping with training possible future Bronze Saints? Marin and Shaina spar with some Silver Saint trainees? Also, some unused constellations would have made for quite some interesting Cloths and abilities.

-        That said – even after all the arcs, at least a couple of other Saints should be alive to fight against Hades and its forces. Right? So why are the only ones we see the ten Bronzes, the Gold Saints, Marin and Shaina? The only answer would implicate Shion has done a real bad job at maintaining Sanctuary, if after all the deaths in the Silver Saint arc, major part of its fighting force is gone.

-        And… h-how the hell is Hyoga DRIVING A FREAKING CAR?! At his age?!

 P.S.: I think the two most painful points for me are the one with Seika, how she absolutely cannot be Marin, but people still think she might be, and the one where the existence of the rest of the Gold Saints is revealed as this big secret, when it should be known by everyone. Those two blunders... they just hurt. They really do.

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

Left Undone

Ted didn’t want to babysit Bill’s daughter. He didn’t like Bill, and Bill didn’t like him. Why did he have to be the only one in the office who was free for the weekend? Alice didn’t exactly want to be babysat either. She’s too old for that!

Little did Ted and Alice know how much fun they were going to have.

(AU wherein Alice has not dated Deb yet, Bill hasn’t divorced yet either; MASSIVE SPOILERS for BoJack Horseman Season 3 and Moulin Rouge! are discussed)

Friday Prologue | Saturday Chapter | Sunday Chapter | Monday Epilogue

Alice woke up fairly well-rested Saturday morning, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t in her own house.

Ted Spankoffski’s house had 3 bedrooms. One was a master bedroom where Ted slept and also did any other non-CCRP related work. Another was a room where Ted’s nerdy brother stayed for the Summer; ever since Ted got himself a house, his younger brother would stay over at his place during holidays and academic breaks.

Then there was the spare guest bedroom Alice was in where Ted had to set up for her the previous evening. It was very plain.

She went downstairs, explored a little, then found no one. She went back up, knocking on Ted’s bedroom door. No response.

Alice then decided to wash up instead, to feel fresh in the morning. She did all the work in the downstairs bathroom (Ted specifically told her to use that particular bathroom), leaving it as neat as it was before she came to the house.

She tried to knock on the door again, the increased strength of her rapping revealing to her that the room had not been locked, or closed properly for that matter.

She peeked in to find Ted who was still asleep, clutching a laptop like a stuffed toy. His shirt, boxers, and socks tied together with his slumped figure, which also seemed intertwined with the bedsheets. There were used tissues all over the bed, some on the floor making a trail to a semi-used paper towel roll. There were an empty bowl and two empty beer bottles on the bedside table. It reeked of Corona and clearly imported Honey Butter Chips.

Alice stepped in to try to wake Ted up, but the floor creaking below her was enough to make him jolt awake.

“Who the fu-“ Ted calmed down from the shock of waking up so suddenly, “A-Alice?!  Shit, I forgot you’re here,”

“I-Is there anything I can eat?”

Ted rose from his position, sitting upward on his bed, “...are you allergic to eggs? Milk?”

“No, I’m not allergic to either.”

“Good,” Ted yawned, getting up and stretching, “because my fridge is fucking empty.”

“I noticed.”

That was hyperbole...sort of. The only breakfast that could be made from Ted’s pantry was egg toast and cereal. There was enough for both of them to finish all of said egg toast and cereal.

“What were you watching last night?” Alice asked Ted, playing with her fruit loops a little.

“Hm?” He swallowed the last bite of his toast with instant coffee.

“You were crying for about thirty minutes; I couldn't sleep-”

“I-It was a sad episode, alright?!” Ted was slightly embarrassed, hesitating to take another sip of coffee, “That fucking baby seahorse will never know...”

Alice raised a brow, unaware of the reference. She ate some more cereal.

“Don’t give me that look, Alice!” That was Bill’s glare, alright, “BoJack Horseman is a very good show!”

“And you binged the whole thing last night?”

“It’s the new season. I’ve got two episodes left before I finish.” Ted then proceeded to chug down what was left of his coffee.

“My laptop died during my binge but it was late and I was just,” He blew a raspberry, “...I needed to sleep.”

“I’ve done that before, not gonna lie,” Alice place down the spoon, done with her breakfast, “Though, the show I watched was kinda...yeah, it was kinda shitty,”

“Let me guess: you’ve watched it because someone hot’s in it,”

Alice blushed, “I-It’s not just that!”

“Hey hey hey,” Ted chuckled, “I’m guilty of that, I ain’t judging.”

Alice hmphed, “Should I watch that—what’s that show?”

“BoJack Horseman?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Ted then began cleaning up by taking Alice’s utensils, stacking them with his, “it starts weak but gets so much better, like real fucking better. Dunno if you’re old enough to watch it though,”

“I’ve seen some pretty adult stuff! Mom makes me watch Tarantino movies with her, at least whenever Dad's not around sometimes,"

Ted nodded at Alice’s mother’s taste in film, “Aight, but that show just...it just hits somewhere really hard when you’re in your early thirties full of regret and with no discernible life direction but, hey! If you can take it, I’d be impressed.”

Alice blinked, “What? Is it like, psychological horror? The kind rooted in some comedically timed socio-political commentary?”

“Well, arguably.” Ted then got up to bring the dishes in his hands into the kitchen.

“...where can I find it?” She asked with mild interest.

“Netflix,” The sound of dishes landing in a sink was heard from Alice’s seat, “It’s a cartoon too, and like, about a bunch of animals, if those kinds of things float your boat.”

Alice never made it past Episode 1 when she tried to watch it herself, convinced Ted’s taste was shit. Personally, she will regret that.

The rest of that morning left Alice and Ted to their own individual devices. Alice typed away some interesting plots and ideas on her phone. Ted went to finish the last episodes of that sad horse show.

An hour before the time Alice would usually eat lunch, she had been cycling around various plotlines for a potential...well, something. Alice knew she just had to write something.

She was in the living area of the house when she heard Ted sloppily walk down the stairs. His eyes were teary.

"Are you alright, Mr. Spankoffski?" She looked at him with concern.

Ted shakily neared her, hesitating to sit on the couch next to her. He instead placed a languid hand on one of the couch's armrests.

"Please don't die on me, Alice, oh my God..."

He broke into sobs. Alice could only stare at this behavior in confusion.

"Did something bad happen in the show, or...?"

"Fuck, it got worse!" He sniffled, "A-And not, like, n-not in a bad writing context--that show's writing is the shit, Alice! But fuck! F-Fuck!"

Sarah Lynn was not supposed to die, but she did die and the fact left Ted devastated. A part of him knew it was gonna happen as he saw the old man, er, horse, and the poor girl in the motel, missing the Oscars. (Then again, that show had a penchant for hollowing, tragic endings per episode.)

Even in entertainment, in his favorite shows to watch, Ted Spankoffski knew better than to hope. It was more realistic for him.

"You can sit down," Alice moved aside to give Ted space to sit.

Ted cried as he sat next to her, "God, I'm sorry y-you had to see me like this,"

"I've...I-I've had worse breakdowns over a show. I-It's all good."

TV and Movie homophobia still haunted the teenage girl.

It's things like that, whether extravagant or subtle in delivery, that prompted her to write and clarify in any way that she could if only to fight. Alice Woodward was the kind of girl who refused to despair.

"Yeah, A-Alice?"

"Mhm," She nodded, quickly writing "character gets sucked into a tv show???" in her phone's Notes app.

"What if we watched something less depressing instead? You can watch it with me, Alice!" Ted breathed, "You're not bored, are you?"

She added "literally? figuratively? ehhh let the watchers decide??? kshfukdhivg" then kept her phone.

"No! N-No, I know how to keep myself, um, b-busy," Alice then shifted herself into a more comfortable position, "What movies do you have?"

Ted paused before answering, realizing he was hungry.

“You pick,” He said, getting up, “You want pizza with that?”

Alice nodded eagerly, watching Ted head for his phone.

“Wait, what am I supposed to pick?”

“There’s a bunch of CD cases in the drawer under the center table—it’s right in front of you!” Ted's voice decrescendoed as he headed upstairs.

“Drawer?” Alice wondered to herself, bending down to inspect the described center table. There was in fact a drawer.

She pulled it open to find bunches of CD cases, charging wires, and what clearly seemed to be unusable gadgets or “e-junk” as her father would, in a terribly corny way, put it.

Alice noticed a notable amount of movie musicals in one bundle of CD cases. The one that got her attention was Moulin Rouge!, unfamiliar with the title and very taken by the red-haired beauty printed on the cover. There was Jesus Christ Superstar, West Side Story, Rocky Horror Picture Show, and a bunch of Disney Princess movies. Upon further inspection of the non-musical movies, Ted had a diverse taste in film, though it was primarily pretty basic in Alice's opinion, minus a few exceptions.

She closed the drawer, further inspecting the Moulin Rouge CD cover by reading the synopsis on the back. An aspiring writer falls in love with a courtesan but other things get in the way? Alice could not blame the writer, in fact, she was quick to identify with him, even if she had not seen the movie yet.

“Alice?” Ted called from upstairs, “Are you allergic to anything I should know?”

“No,” She called back, playing with the CD cover.

“Good! I’m getting us a Bacon Surprise,”

“Alright,” Apparently Ted chose to order from that  Witchwood Ovens Shop downtown.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” Ted asked as he went back down. Alice showed him the CD cover.

“Moulin Rouge?” He mispronounced, “I actually have that in there?”

Alice handed the cover to Ted as he approached her, “I don’t think I’ve seen this one,”

“No shit, Alice. This movie’s got prostitution; if I know your Dad enough,” He stared at the cover, trying to remember when he got it, "he would make sure you'd never see it. God, I remember seeing this in the theater, like, when I was about your—h-how old are you again?"

"Fifteen, but I'll be sixteen later this year,"

"Eh, close enough," Ted then placed the CD cover down, ready to set up the television set in the living room.

"Nicole Kidman, man..." Ted dusted the CD player, plugging the TV into it, "She was the fucking best in that thing."

"Do you even know what happens in it?" Alice asked as she watched Ted at work, "Or were you just hoping Nicole Kidman would step on you?"

"Don't you fucking shame me, Alice!" Ted gasped back as he blushed, "If you had any taste in women, you'd want the same Goddamn thing."

Ted guessed correctly, keeping the girl from returning his snark.

It was around the Elephant Love Medley when the pizza arrived. Ted was kind enough to pause for Alice as he went to get the pizza. Alice was still recovering from the exhilaration of the past few songs, overwhelmed with the crowd-like effect of the cheesy-Jukebox mashups that introduced Christian to that infamous dancehall, the gratuitous use of slow-mo effects, and the ridiculous use of that Can-Can. It was "Spectacular Spectacular" indeed!

Alice almost choked on her pizza during the Like A Virgin scene. It was also very clear to her, as they watched, that Ted must've forgotten a lot of what had happened in the film given some of his reactions. Ted cursed The Duke repeatedly, particularly at that scene when he found out about the true nature of Christian's play.

Ted believed that he should've seen Satine dying coming. He saw this movie before. The movie literally said so right at the start!

Why, as he watched, did he want that happy ending when the opposite was inevitably going to happen?!

Something about Satine charmed Ted, in a particularly nightmarish way. The idea of further thinking about it was repressed repeatedly, refusing to confront the roots of it all. Surely it was just him being a horny bastard, right? Right?

This totally had nothing to do with the fact that Satine had vibrant red hair, cerulean eyes, polished milky skin, and a beautiful figure.

This totally had nothing to do with how familiar this fictional character seemed to be, resembling someone Ted remembered with intense, bittersweet longing.

This totally had nothing to do with the sight of Satine breathing her last breath on a bed of roses reminding Ted of a memory that he swore hadn't happened yet.

Or it did happen?

Why debate when it happened when it shouldn't have happened at all? It wasn't supposed to happen, whatever that thing was that Ted didn't need to remember at the moment. And yet...

She didn't make a sound. Heartbreak was never so loud.

Alice's sniffling brought Ted back to reality. Ted put a hand on her shoulder.

"God, I-I look so stupid," Alice chuckled out from her tears, rubbing her teary eyes, "they literally say it in the beginning, ugh!"

Ted coddled her closer to him so he could hug her but Alice recoiled back.

"T-Thanks, but we both smell like pizza," Ted nodded back in response.

As he cleaned up the living area, he asked Alice, "How was the movie?"

"It was pretty cheesy," She pulled out her phone again, inspired to write, "but kinda fun? Like, you don't get fun movies with this much energy, at least, when I try to compare, well. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Ted replied absent-mindedly, "It certainly brings back memories of, well,  certain times."

"I think it kinda comes off as an epic-like piece,"

"No need to wax academic, Alice,"

"You asked for it!"

"I asked about how it was, not for an essay about its themes and shit!" Ted straightened himself up with a chuckle, "It's just a movie, after all."

"It hits different though," She spat back, focused now on her phone.

Witchwood Oven Shop pizzas were notably heavier on the stomach compared to their competitors. Any leftover pizza the two had for lunch that day, Ted proceeded to reheat for dinner. He scavenged his refrigerator for any packs of instant lemonade, which were thankfully there, and prepared two glasses for the two of them.

It was a shitty excuse for dinner, but Alice didn't seem to mind. She was very concentrated on her phone.

"What'cha writing about?"

Alice tilted her phone as to hide it, "It's not really much yet. It's all a bunch of prompts so far."

"You can pitch me stuff," He swallowed a bite, "Which ones really get to you?"

"Well," She hesitated.

"Well?"

"I-I've got a traveling adventure in a fancy, cultured but mysterious new town..."

"Anything else?"

"Still deciding whether I should make it a horror or a comedy. Besides that, it's all gonna rest on a foundation of romance between our main character, and, well..."

"Who?"

"I don't know! It's all I got so far!"

"Hey, it's not bad," Ted sipped his lemonade, "You know, I bet with enough time, it can become something really fucking great. I'd be invested if this was a movie or a staged production of sorts, I don't know,"

"Y-You think it's good, Mr. Spankoffski?"

"Oh hell yeah," He placed the glass down, "Not to be cheesy, but romance really gets me."

"Yeah, same."

"Have you considered making it some sort of horror-comedy romance? I would love it if you could pull it off."

[incorrectheartbreakers]

20 things I learned before I turned 69.

By IHB Tom Petty

Tom: According to my birth certificate I'm turning 69 today, which is odd because part of me still feels like 30 while the other part of me feels 149 but my current age (until the clock strikes 12) is actually 68 and it's 2019, people have said that sharing is caring so here's 20 lessons that I've learned.

One: I learned to read contracts carefully.

It was one of life's hardest lessons about being a musician that I have come to learn is reading a contract carefully and understand what everything means. Understand what publishing is, know how much you should be paid to make your record and when in doubt, file for bankruptcy, write a song about it, go on tour to pay for legal fees, don't give into the big business guys, if you're recording a record during this whole ordeal and the court they start to imply that they have the right to come and seize anything you're working on, get someone to switch the names on the master tapes and have them hide it where no one can find them after you get done recording. So if you're asked in court where the tapes are..you don't know. And be sure to have drills to see how fast you can get them out of the studio.

Two: Being a snakecharmer to dogs comes in handy. From carrying treats on you to learn how to read the body language of a dog. Being a dog charmer is quite the catch.

Three: Playing pranks on your kids is the best form of entertainment. When one of your daughter's ex boyfriend's accidentally leaves a pair of his underwear at your house, It's a free for all. Put them on her car, put them in a box, wrap it up and leave it under the Christmas tree for them to open on Christmas morning. It'll be talked about for years and years to come. Trust me.

Four: Payback from your kids is the worst. Sometimes the result of pranking your kids is the worst you could experience. Okay that's a little far fetched but it definitely isn't pleasant. I couldn't tell you how many times AnnaKim bugged me about buttless chaps...all chaps are buttless AnnaKim.

Five: Know the difference between fin and not fun. Being on a tour bus and mooning people while they drive by with your drummer as the rest of the band looks on in shock? Fun. Getting chased by your bassist's cat while your trying to eat because they want your dinner and everyone else is laughing? Not fun. Buying a bunch of hash in a country where it's legal? Fun. Getting pulled out of line while you're trying to get to your flight on time because they found some residue on the pipe your drummer has in his suitcase and then missing rehearsals for a TV  show you're supposed to be on? Not fun. Seeing your bassist eating a whole chunk of hash while customs is questioning said drummer? To be honest I'm not even sure where to put that one. For me? Not fun. For him? Fun. Lighting fireworks on the fourth? Fun. Putting a bunch of bottle rockets next to each other in a straight line and then lighting them all off? Not fun. We almost burned down our old house.

Six: If you're moving, get a U-haul. We would have had way less trips to make between our current house and our old house if we just rented a U-haul.

Seven: Recently, I discovered command tape and Blu-tack, and I would definitely have less holes in my walls if Howie mentioned it sooner. Thank you Howie, thank you command tape. And no this isn't paid advertisement, they're just great products.

Eight: There are times where tough love doesn't work, and you lose the people you care most about because of it and there are times where it does work but that's not always the case.

Nine: Don't get too close to the front of the stage. After getting ripped down the first time I've learned the hard way not to get too close.

Ten: Climbing on top of the roof isn't a good idea either, after we got done doing that episode of incorrect heartbreakers it took almost four hours just to get me down from the roof. We had to call the local fire department.

Eleven: Some modeling clay can be put in the oven while others are not made to be baked all together. Earlier this month Howie wanted to test some random modeling clay he ordered off of Amazon, so he handed me a piece and had me put it in the oven to see if it would bake. Needless to say when I checked on it not even five minutes later it turned into a puddle.

Twelve: Take your driving lessons seriously, back when I took my first driving lesson I didn't take some things the instructor was saying into account. I didn't pass the first five tests. I'm still not good at driving after all of these years either.

Thirteen: Just because you don't think it's a good idea to put a new song on a greatest hits album doesn't mean it won't do well. When the greatest hits album was due I really didn't like the idea of doing it let alone putting new songs on it. But the album sold 12,000,000, was certified 12x platinum in the US and the only single released from it went number 1 on the US Billboard album rock tracks, so what do I know?

Fourteen: Breaking your hand is not a way to resolve things you're struggling with. During the recording process of Southern Accents, I broke my hand out of frustration due to my own fault. I wasn't in the right mind and if I was I probably could have avoided the whole thing.

Fifteen: Fashion is all about playful experimentation. If you don’t look back at pictures of some of your old looks and cringe, you’re doing it wrong. See: Marcus Amphitheater, 2001 and Bridge school benefit, 2002.

Sixteen: Everyone deserves to be treated equally. From a very young age I was always enraged with injustice. As the years went on and I learned more and more I took every chance I got to stand up, voice my opinion and I think every person should.

Seventeen: A very more recent one, always have band-aids on you, in every room possible, in every suitcase and in your pockets in general.

Eighteen: Never judge someone until you talk to them one on one. I took this one from a friend after having a two hour conversation over the phone. You never judge someone until you talk to them one on one.

Nineteen: Love isn't forever, I've had my fair share of breakups and heartaches. But the one thing that I have learned from it all is that love doesn't last forever. People grow apart, feelings change and so do people. And sometimes it's for the better.

Twenty: if you see it bubbling after you get done heating something up, don't touch it. Another recent one as I just made myself my own birthday cake, I decided to put caramel on it and I touched it, thus burning my fingers. At least it tastes good.

Bonus: if the instructions say 3 tablespoons add more, if it looks well still like nothing but powder keep adding what the recipe calls for until it looks right. And if you add too much. Pour some out, it'll be fine. Or add in more flour or mix.

[dingoes8myrp]

Supernatural: The Man with No Name, Chapter 24

This is a chaptered fanfiction piece taking place during season 14 of Supernatural.

Premise

This story takes place after episode 14.02 “Gods and Monsters.”

The arrival of John Winchester raises many questions, and gives us a glimpse into a world in which a few vital moments went a different way.

Notes: This piece is being crossposted on my Ao3.

Twenty-Four

John sat down on the edge of the bed, still processing everything she’d told him. On the one hand, his sons were alive. On the other, they’d been through a hell of a lot. He couldn’t imagine what that had done to them.

Mary sat beside him on the bed, one leg folded underneath her.

“You said when you saw me at the police station it was like seeing a ghost,” she said. “But, when you talked about Sam, the family getting into hunting… I was around then.”

John nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What happened to me over there? For you?”

He’d mention how she died, but not why. John sighed heavily.

“That’s also a long, complicated story. A lot like yours in some parts,” he said.

Mary smiled.

“Come on, I told you mine.”

John nodded.

“Yeah, you did.”

He got up to get a beer out of the fridge. He grabbed another one for Mary and went back over to the bed. He’d taken off his boots. His socks had holes in them.

Mary took the beer John handed her. He got back up on the bed, cracking open his can and taking a few generous gulps.

“I told you about Sam and his powers,” he said. “About the demon, Ruby.”

Mary nodded.

“Well, Sam and Ruby went to confront Lilith,” John said. “She was the first demon and the last seal.”

Mary nodded. She’d heard about Lilith.

“Here, too,” she said. “That happened here, too.”

“I guess he’d gone over too far with the demon blood,” John said. “Maybe because he’d practiced his powers more early on, because I’d encouraged him. Maybe because he and Dean never really got right with each other after Sam went his own way. Must’ve been a bunch of little things. Anyway, he was different. Wasn’t Sam anymore. He was… something else. Something… dark, and mean, and powerful.”

Mary couldn’t imagine it. Her patient, gentle Sam. Her baby boy.

“Dean figured it out somehow, where he was at,” John said. “I still don’t know how. You were chasing a lead in Delaware, a seal. Dean and me were in Maryland. Dean called me, rattled off something about Lilith and Lucifer. I couldn’t quite make him out. But he told me where he was headed, in case he failed, he said. In case he couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I hauled ass to that convent. Left you a crazy ass voicemail on the way. But, by the time I got there…”

He took a deep breath and let it out shakily.

“I was too late. Dean, he… He was dead. They were both gone by then, and Lucifer was back, but I didn’t know that part yet.”

John wiped at his eyes and Mary moved to sit beside him, putting an arm around him in half a hug.

“Oh, John.”

“I got him in the car,” John said. “I couldn’t leave him there. But I just sat there. Just sat there in the driver’s seat, sobbing like a baby for I don’t know how long. Then you called me. Christ, I didn’t know how to tell you. But you heard it. Heard it in my voice when I answered. You knew. You just knew something had happened to our boys.”

His voice broke and Mary held him tight. He rested his head against her for a moment, comforted by his wife’s warmth, her smell. He sat up, sniffing, recovering.

“You told me not to burn him,” he continued. “You said to wait for you, not to go anywhere. So, I just waited. I sat in the car, Dean in the damn trunk ‘cause I didn’t know where else to put him. And I prayed. Mary, I prayed so hard for so long my voice gave out. I was cursin’ God, the Devil, the damn angels, the whole world. And you never came. I thought, ‘shit, not her, too.’ And then I heard something.”

Mary frowned at him as his expression changed.

“I didn’t know what the hell it was. It sounded like scratching or scraping. Then it was louder, banging. The trunk. Dean was in the trunk.”

Mary put a hand to her mouth, putting together what happened before John told her. Because she knew herself. She knew what she would have done if it had been her on the other end of that phone call.

“I popped the trunk and ran back there as fast as I could to get him out,” John said. “I couldn’t believe it. He was dead. I knew he was dead. I’d tried to bring him back. CPR, mouth-to-mouth, pounded on his chest. He was gone, long gone when I got there. But, when I opened the trunk he crawled out of it, grabbing onto me and looking around with these big, frenzied eyes. He was as confused as I was. ‘Dad?’ he said. ‘Dad, what happened?’ But, I just grabbed onto him and held him, held onto him for dear life. And he said ‘Dad… Dad, it’s Sam.’ And he told me Sam wasn’t Sam anymore. Really wasn’t Sam. That by the time he got there the final seal was broken, and Lucifer was coming. That demon bitch stabbed him right as he heard Sam say ‘yes.’”

Mary’s stomach dropped. How could he have done it? Sam, who was so strong, and could be so stubborn when he was sure he was right.

“We met up with you,” John continued. “And you held Dean so tight. You didn’t want to talk about how it happened. You didn’t care. You had one son back. Now we had to get Sam. So, we started looking for a way to take down Lucifer and save Sam. But, we ran out of time. You ran out of time.”

Mary nodded.

“I made a deal, didn’t I?” she asked. “A crossroads deal.”

John nodded.

“You for Dean. A trade. They gave you one year instead of ten. You didn’t tell us until near the end. Didn’t want us to veer off course trying to save you. You wanted all our attention on Sam. And we were so angry at you. But, I understand now why you did it. Because we would have had to choose between you and Sam, and that would’ve been impossible. I figured that out later, after you were gone. When the world was going to Hell, and me and Dean were running out of options. Dean, he took a page out of your book, but he didn’t make a deal with a demon. He made one with Michael.”

Mary closed her eyes, pained.

“I got there too late. He’d already said yes, already found Sam - Lucifer. I had to watch my sons fight to the death. Christ, I was actually grateful you weren’t there to see it, Mary. I tried to stop it, tried to intervene, but they beat the shit out of me, both of them. Left me in a heap, choking on my own blood, bones broken all over. But, in the end, Dean came through. I don’t know how or why, but he came through. He said ‘I’m here, Sammy. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not gonna leave you, Sammy.’ But, I don’t think Sam heard him. If he did, he couldn’t do anything. I watched Dean die all over again, and Sam was used to do it.”

“Oh, God, John.”

Mary was crying too at this point, and the two of them hung onto each other. John spoke into her hair.

“He healed me,” he said. “Sam. Lucifer. Maybe they’re one and the same. Maybe that’s what it did, the demon blood, the visions, all of it. I don’t know. I asked him why and he said ‘Because I have work for you.’ I told him ‘I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday, I’m gonna kill you.’ He just laughed. And then he was gone. And I spent every moment of my life wishing I was dead, but I kept my sorry ass alive for Sam. Because if he’s still in there, if any part of him is still in there, I’m gonna save him.”

-

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven

[spnsimpleman]

The Unknowns: Twenty Nine

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  A one-shot turned into a long ass Prologue.  One   Two   Three   Four   Five Six   Seven   Eight Nine   Ten  Eleven   Twelve   Thirteen   Fourteen Fifteen   Sixteen   Seventeen   Eighteen   Nineteen Twenty   Twenty one   Twenty Two   Twenty Three  Twenty Four   Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven    Twenty Eight

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 3769

The television volume was low and without the boys, the hotel room was too large and too quiet. It was unsettling. But I’d been off all morning, ever since I couldn’t remember the dream that had jolted me awake in a cold sweat before the sun rose. Dean hadn’t liked it either.

I glanced at Jess still sitting at the table in front of the window, she checked her phone again. That was the sixth or seventh time in the last ten minutes.

We didn’t talk about missing dreams or the shaky feeling that something was coming that was too much like the last time we came into contact with the yellow-eyed demon. Dean and I decided to keep it to ourselves for today. Give it time because we didn’t know for sure, just for one day.

I checked the time, Sam had been gone for forty five minutes but food runs were never that predictable. I had been reminding myself of that for the last fifteen minutes.

Jess had been restless and a little tense all day too. It had made her snippy with everyone and I couldn’t understand the swirl of conflicting emotions she was trying unsuccessfully to hide. She was confused and itching to move but she didn’t know why and it pissed her off. It was rubbing off on me and had only gotten worse since Dean left for the small laundry room the hotel had. Maybe I had rubbed off on her first. “There was probably just a wait on the burgers. Just call him.”

She glanced at me and lifted her phone, holding a button on the way to her ear. The muscles in her arm bunched. His voicemail blared from her phone, she smashed the disconnect button and stared at it.

“Maybe he’s driving back?” I wanted to believe that nothing was wrong but the cold coasting down my spine took the certainty out of my voice. I winced, Sam had said it was a nice day and he walked. I had wondered if he had a bad dream like I had last night but he didn’t remember anything. He never seemed to remember any dreams. I just couldn’t remember last night.

‘Very strong intuition helps a lot. She’s not just a natural with a gun either.’  Pamela’s words played through my mind only adding to the suffocating energy swelling in the room.

The door opened and we both turned. Dean walked in with our laundry bag over his shoulder and stopped, “what?”

“Sam’s not answering his phone,” Jess was tapping away at the buttons on her phone.

Dean met my gaze, “he should’ve been back by now.” He glanced out the window, baby still sitting in her spot. “We give him five more minutes then we’ll drive to that restaurant.”

He dropped the laundry bag on the bed, his body loose like he had it all together but the uneasiness spiraling through him only infused my own nerves. He stalked over to the sink and washed his hands meeting my gaze in the mirror. You feel anything?

I swallowed down the panic but it scored through him and his eyes narrowed, what?

Jess cursed and the ringing echoed around the small room. We all knew something was wrong but none of us wanted to voice it. No one wanted to break the spell that this was our normal, that something silly had kept him behind, something like a burned burger or a lost order. A simple mix up that happened every day. But we were better than this. We knew better.

Jess stood up, “let’s go. No point in delaying.” She strode out of the room.

I stood up and waited for Dean. He took my hand and squeezed as we stepped through the door. We split at the front of the car but grabbed a hold again after he started the car. Everything just started to feel normal again.

I squeezed his hand. I know. We’ll find him.  

But I didn’t feel any truth in the words and he knew it just as surely as I did. Something was off.

“I should’ve gone with him. I didn’t need to shower right that instant,” Jess griped from the back. She was mad but it was all inward.

I turned and waited for her to meet my gaze, “then we’d be looking for you too. Actually, we’d probably not even look because we’d think you guys just needed alone time. Who knows how long we would have waited.”

A sad smile graced her face, “but we’d be together.”

I grimaced, knowing how right she was. I reached over the seat, gripped her shoulder, and croaked, “we’ll find him.”

I gazed into her eyes that held the same determination stirring in my very marrow. I couldn’t say when, but I was certain that we would find him. That wasn’t even an option.

~~

Ten days later

Jess jumped out of the car before Dean even stopped it in front of the motel. I glanced at him as he shoved baby into park and we got out just as Jess ran through the front door and disappeared down a hall. Dean and I turned around the same corner and a door at the end closed. We rushed to the stairwell door and took the stairs two at a time. I shoved Dean forward knowing he could take at least three but was holding back for me or maybe he was terrified of what we’d find at the end of this trail too. I was drowning in it.

We spilled into the top floor hall to Jess banging on a door halfway down. “She’s fast,” Dean quipped as we rushed down the hall.

Jess twisted the knob and disappeared in the room. “YOU STUPID SONOFA…”

“Jess?”

“HOW COULD YOU? DO YOU REALIZE WHAT I’VE…”

“Jess.”

“What we’ve… YOU COULD’VE CALLED OR TEXTED. YOU…”

Dean and I shared a glance before we pushed the door open and walked in to find why Jess had stopped ranting. I winced at the lance of pain in my head. Dean grabbed my arm. Y/n?

I tried to look at Sam to see if he was okay but my vision blurred and a vise gripped my skull. I whimpered as it tightened.

“Sam?” Jess gasped.

Two hands cradled my face but the pressure was too much. Dean’s voice was strained, talk to me, what is that?

“Sam, whose blood is this?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember…”

A searing pain zipped around inside my skull crashing off bone and reverberating down my spine. I cried out.

“You need to get her away from me! It’s the demon I know it! You can’t let it poison her!”

“Sam… you can’t,” I struggled to get past it, to block it off, but it only squeezed tighter. I tried looking at him, looking at anyone but I could barely see blurry shapes.

“GET HER OUT! I’M HURTING HER!”

I clenched my jaw shut to keep from crying out at his shouting. I was lifted off the floor and carried out of the room. Whispers surrounded me punctuated by muffled screams until there was nothing but whispers and pain.

~~

“Fuck!” Dean stared at Y/n curled up on the bed, catatonic again. Jess sat next to her, her hand brushing through Y/n’s hair and muttering something Pamela had taught her.

Jess glanced up, “the last time this happened… it was when she saw the yellow-eyed demon? What if Sam’s right?”

Dean stared at the wall where five rooms down Sam should be cleaning up. “He’s not poisoned.”

Jess gazed down at Y/n’s scrunched face still running her fingers through her hair. She was worried and she couldn’t even feel the strain, the painful grip of whatever was locking her inside her mind.

“You should try to find out as much as you can. I’ll stay with her.” Her voice had taken on a steely edge he knew well from Pamela.

“Jess…”

She turned clear blue eyes on me but something else stirred in them. Why did everything feel off? “When he first saw me…” She shook her head and looked back to Y/n, “I don’t know, it was like he was surprised to see me. Whatever happened…”

Dean squeezed her shoulder, “we’ll figure it out. We beat this before.”

Jess shook her head, “you almost died last time.”

He didn’t have a response for that. Blood pounded in his ears and he clenched his fist fighting back against the need to punch something. Y/n whimpered and he backed away, gritting his teeth. “I’ll take Sam and figure this out. Whatever’s on him, around him that’s causing this, we’ll fix it.” Because it was something about Sam, no doubt about that. Her screams still rang inside his head from ten minutes ago when Sam came to the door to check on them.

He cleared his throat, “you watch her and let me know if anything changes, okay?” She nodded, her shoulders tense. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

She lowered her head, “you can’t promise something you don’t yet understand. We’ll go through the steps and we’ll work the case. We’ll help her and Sam.” Then she was whispering over Y/n again.

Dean got the message. He was dismissed. Maybe he should be bothered by how much Bobby and Pamela seemed to have rubbed off on her, but he didn’t really know her before. Maybe they only enhanced the leadership qualities she already had and reinforced her protective side. He was just grateful that he had her on his side right now.

He whispered along the bond as he backed his way to the door, Jess’s got you. I’ll be right back. 

His throat closed up at the nothingness that answered him. He wanted to run back to her, press his hands to her face, and dive into whatever wasteland she was stuck in. Just to comfort her however he could through the nonsense whispering that had filled her head before everything went fuzzy. Maybe so she could comfort him too. But the last time he laid his hands on her, it only made it worse.

With one last look at her, he stepped out of the room determined to get this shit settled. Whatever happened during the last ten days was going to be laid bare and then they would deal with it one mess at a time.

~~

Jess snapped her eyes open with a gasp and scanned the dark room with her heart in her throat. She was still sitting back against the wall with her legs stretched out at the bottom of the bed. Y/n’s feet just barely touching her left leg. Y/n was still curled up into herself but something was different. Something woke her up.

The last thing she could recall was leaving a message on Pamela’s cell. Then waiting. There was still light coming from the windows then.

Y/n’s stomach growled and her own stomach rumbled in response. She lifted her phone and checked the time. Three hours. She had passed out for three hours.

“Shit.”

“Jess?” A scratchy mumble from the other end of the bed.

“You okay? How’s your head?”

“I’m hungry. What happened? Where are we?” Y/n tried sitting up and grabbed her head with one hand. Instead of laying back down, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and pressed her back against the wall at the head of the bed.

“You don’t remember?”

She peered toward her in the dark, “I… Sam called.”

Jess shoved away from the wall and walked over to the lamp, switching it on, “we found Sam, at this motel. You… something happened to your head when you were in the same room as him.” Y/n squinted toward the door. “He doesn’t remember what happened since he disappeared.”

Her brow furrowed, “that doesn’t… make any sense.”

“He thinks the demon did something to him. He screamed at us to get you away from him, he thought he would poison you too.”

“That’s just…” her stomach growled again.

“We should get some food. I passed out after watching over you for an hour. Dean took Sam to follow the breadcrumbs four hours ago.” Jess pulled up her text messages and sent a quick update to Dean. She’s awake. Getting something to eat. She doesn’t remember seeing Sam.  “Maybe it’ll get better after you eat.”

Jess shoved her phone in her back pocket and helped Y/n off the bed and then watched her walk a few steps without faltering.

Y/n stopped and turned to her, “I’m okay.” Her brow furrowed again, “what happened?”

Jess walked to her and hugged her quickly before turning her to the door and staying at her side, “there was a diner close to here. We could walk if you’re up to it.” A buzz went off in Jess’s pocket and she pulled out her phone.

“Yes. Tell me what happened.”

Jess opened her text message but met y/n’s gaze, “you started… groaning and then you couldn’t see and Dean… it looked like… he felt some of it. Sam screamed to get you away from him and Dean picked you up and hauled ass out of the room. It didn’t seem like it did anything because you passed out. I got you this room and Dean put you on the bed. Sam came to the door and you just started screaming. You wouldn’t open your eyes, we couldn’t get you to respond to anything. Sam walked down the hall and you... just stopped but we couldn’t get through to you. Even Dean couldn’t reach you.” Jess was gripping her phone so tight her hand ached. “It scared the shit out of us.”

She frowned and dropped her head, heaving a deep breath. “Right.”

Jess ripped her gaze off Y/n and read the text. Thanks for watching her. We’re on our way, twenty minutes out.

“Come on. Let’s get some food, the boys are only twenty minutes away.” Jess left the room keeping close to Y/n’s side hoping they had something but the sinking feeling in her gut and the memory of the soft needle-like pricks on the back of her neck wasn’t bolstering that thought at all. Whatever this was, it was only the beginning of something bigger but she had no way to articulate that.

~~

Jess and I stumbled across a food truck on the way to the restaurant and decided it was worth a try after seeing the line. We ordered for ourselves and the boys. We ate our tacos as we walked back to the motel.

My mind was still hazy even after the short walk to the truck and inhaling a fantastic chicken taco with spicy fries. I had a headache but nothing else.

I could remember the motel, Jess leaping from the car before Dean even parked, but from there things got fuzzy. Broken images of a hallway, shouts, and darkness.

I glanced at Jess as we strolled across the parking lot with only the boys takeout bags remaining. “Sam couldn’t remember anything from the last ten days?”

Jess shook her head, “nope. Him and Dean stumbled on a car he must’ve stolen and then found a receipt for a gas station not far from here.” She took a deep breath, “I don’t like it. Something about the whole thing just…”

“Feels wrong.” I nodded, I couldn’t ignore the chill sitting on the back of my neck, “maybe he is onto something with the demon though. What if it’s kind of like the croatoan thing and only we can be affected?”

“But why is it only happening when you’re near him even though he’s fine now?”

“I don’t know. Lingering effect, maybe?” But even as I said it, we both knew it was more than that and it only made everything worse.

Jess hit the elevator button, “maybe you should stay back from him, just to be sure.”

The hints of fear and pain even through both our filters turned the food in my stomach. “We’ll take it one step at a time.” She didn’t have to tell me how scared they were, it was written all over her face when I woke up and the lingering effects were still all over her.

What the hell could hurt me like that and wipe out the memory? What could make Sam leave and then forget ten days? And how did he suddenly come to four states away with nothing but memory loss? If it was the demon, then why? What did it gain from this?

The elevator opened, we stepped out, and Dean’s voice spiraled his warmth through me, “y/n!”

I turned and was wrapped up in him. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, feeling better than I had since waking up in that dark room. I’m so sorry.

For what?  

That you couldn’t reach me, that you were scared.

He kissed the top of my head, “nothing for you to be sorry about, Sweetheart.”

“Y/n, how are you feeling?” Sam was tentative, his voice wavering with each word and yet, something was still wrong.

Dean turned with me still pressed against his chest and it hit me, I couldn’t feel Sam at all. Jess was still seeping through her filter, Dean was apart of me, but absolutely nothing from Sam. Even more so than when he was deliberately blocking me. No light or warmth or anything. Just darkness. Why can’t I feel him?

Dean’s arms tightened, what?

Something crossed Sam’s face and he walked toward us, “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

A siren screamed and I squeezed my eyes shut. My head rang as a pressure wrapped around my skull and tightened to an excruciating level. My body was on fire and my dinner threatened to erupt, but I refused to let go of Dean.

Why couldn’t they stop that screaming? I tightened my arms around him.

Why couldn’t I breathe? I shoved my forehead into his chest.

What the hell was happening? I was sure I was screaming but I couldn’t hear anything above that damn siren song shrieking in my skull.

Then everything stopped.

Frozen in time.

The pain surrounding me was gone and I floated. I reached out for Dean but the tether was so thin. So small. How could he be that far when I was just in his arms?

Muffled voices floated with me in the dark.

You need to get her away from me. Take her away, please.

We can figure it out.

You need to stop me.

We can’t do this here. I’ll take her back to our room.

You need to stop me before something happens to her… before I hurt her. I don’t want her to die by my hands. Please!

Silence.

It drills into my skull, pressing into my brain tissue.

It hurts so much here.

That absence of everything pricks at my skin. Freezing, sharp teeth sinking into my bones and spreading a venom to weigh me further down. I reach for Dean and it’s barely a pinprick of a thread. I grip it and pull with every ounce of anything I have left before it’s gone. Before I’m gone.

It slips from my grasp and the searing cold spreads over that tiny light.

A little girl’s cries carry through the darkness, screaming for her daddy. My chest aches at the sound. I want…

“Please come back, daddy. Please stay with me.” Her small voice is so broken, yet the hope that shines in every syllable…

I want to hold her. I want to tell her it’s all going to be okay.

It may be a lie but I could comfort her. I could hold her like Dean held me. I could help her make it through the night.

Dean. I reach for him blindly, needing with every fiber to feel his touch, to know he’s okay.

A blinding pain bursts bright red that ignites the darkness.

“Y/n!”

The freezing place shattered. The pieces tinkling as they pooled together at the base of my skull then slithered down my spine.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

I blinked once, twice. A blurry image and then with one more tight squeeze of my eyes, the image cleared. “Sammy?”

The smile that pulled his lips across his face did not belong to my baby brother. “And the darling of the kingdom awakes.”

I kicked out and he dodged my attempt with ease. I stared at my legs, duct taped together at the ankles. “Who are you?” My wrists were taped too.

“Come on, Princess. We’ve got places to be.” He picked me up from the bed and threw me over his shoulder.

I screamed and thrashed as my mind spun. Where were Dean and Jess? What happened to them? I caught a glimpse of the body he stepped over. He stopped and pulled something from his pocket.

He turned and pointed the gun down at Jess’s head just so I could see. “I can kill her now if you’d like. It would be more fun if she was still part of this game though. She’s such a brilliant piece. Kudos on the save, by the way.”

I gritted my teeth and sealed my lips together with a glare his way, but my hair blocked my face.

He began moving again carrying me like a ragdoll.

I reached for Dean and almost cried out when the bond flared healthy and strong. I reached for him, DEAN!

He was so close, but something was… “What did you do to him?”

The thing in Sam’s body walked down the hall without pause, “which one?”

Game. He wouldn’t kill them because he wanted them for something.

He kicked the stairwell door open and growled in my ear, “don't worry, Princess. We’ve got a long way to go.” I shuddered at the nickname that scraped against my bones. Too many nightmares brought to the surface. Those piercing yellow eyes but the tone was so very different. This was not someone who wanted to win me over.

He jogged down the stairs, his shoulder jabbing into my stomach with every bounce. I threw up at the bottom and he laughed before stepping out into the night. “We can fix that problem right up with some more tape.”

Then I heard him, so muffled but still there, screaming somewhere deep. Sammy. My Sammy. 

I didn’t know how but this bastard would pay.

Thirty

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23  @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke, @captainemwinchester , @ashrod98 , @mrswhozeewhatsis , @caitsymichelle13  , @escabell , @thealyana , @michellethetvaddict , @ashch , @rashinyx2002 , @tamtamlov

[obsessive-fics]

Title: (Let’s Stop) Running from Love

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.3k 

Summary: Phil is ten years old the first time he asks his mother what love is. He doesn't fully understand what her answer means until he meets Dan Or Some of the most important Valentine's Days in Phil's life over the years

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @yourfriendlyblogstalker for being an amazing beta and putting up with all of my whining and procrastinating

[Read on Ao3]

1997

Phil is ten years old the first time he asks his mother what love is. They’re sitting at the kitchen table, filling out valentines for the kids in his class, and it’s got him thinking. What’s the point? Why are him and a bunch of other kids going to give each other cards that say things like “You’re cool!”? Is there anything special about that or does it stop being special once everyone gets one?

When he voices this, his mother just smiles and pats him on the head. She’s been doing that a lot lately, just stopping to affectionately encourage all of the strange ways his brain works.

“I don’t think anyone really knows- it’s just something nice you all do for each other. What I do know, though, is that love is choosing someone. It’s when every day you wake up, and you choose to continue giving yourself to that person in whatever way you see fit,” she explains, handing him a valentine with Pikachu on it, folded perfectly in half. He takes it, and puts it in an envelope with Emily R’s name on it.

“So you chose Dad then?” he asks, because parents are supposed to be the ultimate example of what love is, but he’s starting to notice that not all of the parents he knows live up to that.

“I did. And he chose me back. And to us that means being each other’s best friends and biggest supporters, even when it’s not easy.” she doesn’t know it at the time, but he takes those words and decides right then and there that he’s absolutely going to live by them. They finish the Valentines and he’s tasked with setting the table for dinner while she cooks, but he never stops thinking about what it means to choose someone and to be chosen in return.

2003

He’s sixteen before he finds himself wondering what love is again. Lily is smart and pretty and actually listens when he spends twenty minutes analyzing the latest episode of Buffy. This must be it, he thinks, this must be how it feels. He spends all of Thursday night trying to think of the right way to tell her- what should he say, what should he say? But nothing seems right.

Martyn is entirely unhelpful in this regard. “Just tell her how you feel,” is the extent of his advice, and maybe that works in movies where everyone knows exactly what to say to express exactly how they’re feeling, but he has no idea. Eventually he gives up trying to plan and hopes he’ll know what to do when the time comes.

The next day at school, he’s all nerves. He sits next to Lily the same way he’s done every day, but something about it feels different. Like he’s been holding his breath this whole time and he’s one second from breathing again.

“Do you want to hang out after school?” Phil asks while they’re walking together after class, complaining about how much reading they’ve got over the weekend.

“Oh, I would, but… it’s Valentines Day,” Lily answers, suddenly looking everywhere but him.

“I know, that’s um… kind of why I’m asking,” he tells her, desperately wishing for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh. Oh! Wow, that’s… that’s so sweet, really, you’re so sweet, but I can’t,” Lily rambles, stopping and hugging her books tighter to her chest.

“Oh… Well, that’s okay then. Let’s just f-”

“Girls!” Lily blurts out, cutting him off.

“What?”

“I can’t because girls- a girl. I’m… God this is hard. I wanted to tell you, but I…” Lily trails off, shaking her head, but he manages to piece together what she’s getting at.

“You can’t go out with me tonight because you like girls?” Phil asks, and all of the tension in Lily’s body seems to fade away at once.

“Yeah. Yes. I’m… well, I don’t know yet, but I’m getting ice cream with Rosa from history later, so I’m excited to find out,” she tells him, and he doesn’t think he’s even seen her smile that big.

“You know, Rosa kind of looks like Willow,” he tells her in an attempt to make her laugh. It works, and she wraps her arms around him for a quick hug.

“Thank you for understanding,” she says, pulling away.

“Always. Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” Phil jokes as they resume walking.

“Shut up,” Lily laughs, shoving him, and just like that they’re back to normal. It hurts a little, knowing that he hasn’t found the person that’s going to choose him, but he’ll get over that. For now he’s just happy that someone as wonderful as Lily is discovering herself, and that she’s found someone to do that with.

2008

Nick is… Nice. He’s nice and attractive in that tan, blonde, boy next door kind of way. But if Phil’s being honest with himself he wouldn’t be here with him on any other day of the year. Jimmy had caught him, watching Titanic on the couch, in his pjs at six o’clock and demanded he come out with him.

“It’s a day of love! You can’t just sit here watching tv by yourself all night,” he’d said, turning off the tv just as Rose’s hand comes up to the leave its print in the foggy car window.

“Why not?” he’d whined, but it was a battle he already knew he’d lost. Which is how he found himself in his best shirt, sitting next to Nick, listening to him shout over the music about the big game next weekend. Jimmy keeps shooting him encouraging looks from across the table, and he’s starting to regret every decision he’s ever made that lead him here.

“I need a drink,” he announces unceremoniously, cutting off Nick’s very detailed description of his workout routine.

Phil orders the most colorful drink on the menu and sits down to nurse it. He’s being unfair and immature, ditching his date to sulk and drink, but he doesn’t go back to the table. Three drinks later, he feels someone sit down next to him.

“I’m a lousy date I know,” he says, but it kind of loses power when he has to shout it in Nick’s ear twice more before he understands what he’s saying.

“Oh! That’s okay, I probably haven’t been all that great either,” Nick shouts back, smiling sheepishly. Phil suddenly feels a wave of guilt and affection, probably brought on by the amount of sugar and vodka he’s just consumed.

“Do you wanna go somewhere quiet?” he asks, before he can think better of it.

“... Sure,” Nick says, so quietly he almost misses it.

They make their way outside, side stepping heart shaped balloons and giant teddy bears. It’s freezing outside, a blast of harsh February air hitting them the minute they open the door. They lean against the side of the building, arms wrapped around themselves.

“Sorry if I was going on back there. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, but I also don’t want to not say anything, and then I just can’t stop even though-” Nick is saying, when Phil kisses him, cutting him off. He’s not sure why exactly- maybe it’s because it’s Valentine’s Day, or because he’s a little drunk and Nick’s being almost unrealistically nice, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to spend the night completely alone. Either way he’s standing outside kissing a guy he’s known for two hours, and they’re gonna need to find a place sans witnesses pretty soon.  

Fifteen minutes later, Phil’s pressed up against his bedroom door, Nick doing things to his neck that are definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. He wants to enjoy this, to just not think about love and romance, and how, to his knowledge, neither of those things have ever start with sloppy, drunken handjobs, but his mind really enjoys betraying him. He’s there physically the whole time, but he feels like he’s watching a dream from far away. The next morning, he wakes up feeling nauseous and disoriented, as Nick is sitting at the foot of the bed, putting his shoes back on.

“Thanks for uh, last night,” Nick says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, uh… You too,” Phil replies, as articulate as his hangover addled brain allows for. Nick leaves after that, and Phil decides immediately he’d much rather spend every Valentine’s Day alone than having to feel like this. And then he runs to the bathroom to go throw up.

2010

It’s the night before Valentine’s Day, Phil is hopelessly in love, and he’s sitting in his bedroom alone, looking at his camera. The universe can be relentlessly cruel sometimes. How could it bring him his soulmate and then constantly rip them apart?

He’s never had a real, proper, Valentine. Someone he’s sure he’d choose over and over again, in each lifetime, in each universe, but now he does. Dan is all of those things and more, and in an awful twist of fate, his family had chosen now to go on holiday in India.

It’s after midnight there, and Dan has to get up early to go on a family outing his grandmother’s planned, so Phil  had reluctantly let him go so he could get some sleep. But now he’s been left alone with his thoughts and it’s gonna be at least another four hours before he can get to sleep.

“We don’t have to do anything today, it’s a completely arbitrary holiday. I’ll come see you when I get home and it’ll be just as romantic as it would’ve been to do something today,” Dan had said on skype earlier that night.

“I just… I wish you were here,” Phil admitted sadly.

“I wish I was too,” Dan said, sounding equally dejected.

They fell into silence then, watching each other with the faint hope that if they willed hard enough, the universe would pull them through their computer screens, across borders, until they were together. Dan was the first to break the silence, sighing heavily.

“Valentine's Day is overrated anyway- we don’t need flowers or chocolate to prove we love each other.”

“I don’t want to do those things to prove I love you. I know you know that already. I want to do them because I love you. I also wouldn’t get you flowers or chocolate because neither of those things are very original gifts,” Phil argued immediately. He liked to think he’d be a little better at Valentine’s than that.

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Dan said, laughing and shaking his head.

“Too late,” Phil replied, before he could think better of it. He hadn’t actually gotten a gift, but the thought of seeing Dan’s face light up had wormed its way into his head, and he knew almost immediately he’d do anything to make that thought a reality.

“Seriously? I didn’t get you anything!”

“You don’t have to get me anything, just be here.”

“Okay,” Dan said finally, barely containing his grin.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Then they spent a few minutes being sappy and in love before Phil noticed Dan drifting off and forced him to go to bed.

Phil sighs, thinking of the sight of his adorable boyfriend, all sleepy and soft, and before he even registers what he’s doing, he’s turning on his camera. He’s got the perfect valentines gift in mind, one that’s romantic, but not cliche, and also undeniably them. He hits record and takes a deep breath.

“Awrf. Hi Dan.”

“I love you,” Dan says the minute Skype connects the next morning.

“So, you got it then?” Phil asks hopefully.

“I got it and I love it and I love you and I can’t wait to see you,” Dan tells him grinning excitedly, and Phil can’t wait until they’re in the same space and he can kiss those dimples whenever he wants.

“Only a few more days,” he says instead, because he feels like they both need that reminder.

“How gross would it be if I said I was counting down the days?” Dan asks, leaning on his hand.

“Pretty gross, but I love you anyway.”

2012

“Valentine's Day is tomorrow,” Phil says cautiously Monday night. They’ve just finished dinner and it’s his turn to wash up. He hands Dan the plate he’s just washed, and looks at him.

“Yeah, so?” Dan replies, drying it off and placing in on the counter.

“Do you want to do something? We can go to a movie, or get dinner...” Phil trails off, picking up another dish.

“What if someone sees us?” Dan asks, voice suddenly small.

Phil wants to argue that of course they won’t be seen, and even if they are, what does it matter? But he knows there’s always the chance of running into a viewer, and it only seems to grow every day. And no matter what they say, people are only going to think.

“I hate this. It’s Valentine’s Day. I want to spoil you,” Phil says, sighing in frustration, leaning on the sink.

“Hey, come here,” Dan says softly. Phil turns off the tap and turns towards him. Dan puts the dish towel down and wraps his arms around Phil’s waist.

“I keep telling you, it’s just a day. I’ve done the big Valentine’s date thing, it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, you do nothing but spoil me. We’ll do something next weekend, okay? Let’s spend tomorrow ignoring work and watching anime all day,” Dan suggests, reaching up to push hair out of Phil’s face.

“You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?” Phil says, smiling at him warmly.

“I know. You still have to finish the dishes though.”

Phil rolls his eyes, but steps out of Dan’s arms and turns back to the sink. It’s something he’s still learning, but sometimes love is quiet- it doesn’t stay all shy glances, dramatic declarations of love, clawing at each other impatiently. It settles down, it’s peaceful, not because it’s boring or stale, but because you don’t need all of that to be sure of each other. You just are.

2025

Phil is exhausted. Exhausted, but happy. It’s been an uncharacteristically nice day for February, which means he’s spent the last two hours chasing around a very excitable dog and an equally excitable Lilah while Dan just watched and recorded. Deciding to raise Lilah has been the best, most difficult thing they’ve ever done. She was so traumatized when they met her she was completely nonverbal, despite being four years old. She’s eight now, and slowly becoming one of the most outgoing and energetic kids they’ve ever met.

Now, Lilah is falling asleep on Phil’s lap in the middle of one of her favorite Disney movies.

“Are Shang and Mulan going to live together now? That’s what people do when they love each other, right?” she asks, yawning.

“Sometimes,” Phil tells her, running his hand through her hair.

“Does love mean living together, like you and Dad?” Lilah wonders, Phil smiles and feels the warmth he does every time she calls one of them dad.

“It can. Love means lots of things. It’s not really something you completely understand until you’re actually experiencing it. But mostly it means choosing someone, over and over again, deciding to love and support them for as long as humanly possible,” he explains, as best he can, the same way his mother did for him when he was little.

“Like you guys chose me!” Lilah says excitedly.

“Yeah, Li. Exactly like that. We love you very much,” he tells her, but she’s already asleep.

“She asleep yet?” Dan asks, leaning in the doorway.

“Yeah. Want me to carry her to her room?” Phil asks, looking up at him.

“Not yet,” Dan says, pulling out his phone and taking a picture, before sitting down next to them, and draping his arm around him.  “I kind of don’t even wanna go out tonight. This is way more fun.”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting out of this that easily. Besides, the sitter is already on her way,” Phil points out, but leans into him anyway.

“I love that this is our life now. There are so many things I used to dream about that I thought I’d never experience, and then I met you, and everything seemed possible,” Dan says softly, looking down at Lilah’s sleeping form.

“I love you too. Seriously, though we’re gonna lose our reservation if we don’t start getting ready,” Phil reminds him, and Dan rolls his eyes, but still kisses him and gets up to go get changed.

Brittany gets there about an hour later, and Lilah practically runs to the door when she realizes who it is.

“Hey, Li,” Brittany says, reaching down to hug her.

“Can we play space princesses?” Lilah asks, excitedly bouncing up and down.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Brittany answers, and Lilah runs off to put on her princess costume.

“She’s gonna be hungry soon- there’s dinner in the fridge for her, so just heat that up. She should be in bed by 8:00, but she likes to find excuses to stay up, so if she reads one of her books, she can stay up until 9:00,” Phil instructs while he and Dan bustle around, gathering coats and shoes and keys.

“Yes, I’ve got it. You tell me the same thing every time I come here,” Brittany says, laughing.

“We just… We worry,” Dan explains, shrugging his coat on.

“I know. But Lilah’s in great hands, trust me,” Brittany assures them, opening the door for them. They’re walking out when she calls after them.

“Is it okay if I FaceTime my girlfriend after Lilah’s asleep? I wouldn’t usually, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and she’s studying abroad- I miss her a lot,” she tells them, shifting slightly.

It’s almost shocking to hear someone in that exact predicament, not much younger than they were at the time.

“Of course you can, Brittany. Thank you for watching Lilah tonight,” Phil replies, and he can tell by the look on Dan’s face he wants to buy a plane ticket right then and there, and send Brittany on her way.

“It’s no trouble. Have a great date!” Brittany calls after them, heading back inside.

“I feel terrible she’s babysitting on Valentine’s Day. She should be  with her girlfriend,” Dan says as they walk.

“I’m sure they’re gonna have a great time talking to each other later. Besides, she will be, sooner than she realizes. You of all people should know that,” Phil reminds him gently, knocking their shoulders together. Dan doesn’t say anything then, just pulls Phil by the hand, and kisses him deeply.

“What was that for?” Phil asks, a little breathless.

“Because you’re here, and I can. And it was torture when I couldn’t. I know it’s been over a decade now, but nothing makes me happier than knowing I can just reach out, and you’ll be there,” Dan explains, and they should probably stop standing here, holding each other, but it’s Valentine’s Day, they’re ridiculously, hopelessly in love, and Phil wants to bask in this moment a little longer.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he says, because there aren’t nearly enough words to describe what he’s feeling right now.

They’re going to get dinner at their favorite restaurant and play silly games at the table, and then they’re going to come home to their wonderful daughter and the best dog in the world, and Phil can’t believe how lucky he is that this is his life. That in all of the universes and possible fates, he ended up here, with his best friend and the love of his life, and that even now, sixteen years in, they continue to wake up every morning and chose each other. Even without fancy dinners or a fancy house, just that alone is the best Valentine he ever could have asked for.

[looky-here-imma-reading]

Masterpiece: America’s 50-Year-Old Love Affair with British Television Drama by Nancy West 

2 out of 5 stars ✨✨ 

Synopsis: 

What accounts for Masterpiece's longevity and influence? Masterpiece offers two reasons: the power of its drama and its aspirational appeal. West delivers great stories, stories that transport, enthrall, enrich, and comfort us, while also speaking to a uniquely American belief in the possibility of self-improvement, even self-transformation, through the acquisition of "culture." 

My Notes: 

"Enjoying this so far, but clearly the editor fell asleep at the wheel. I’ve noticed a bunch of stupid little mistakes. Like they ask a question that has an A, B, or C answer then say the answer is D. What? Number the questions with 2.2 or 7.2, all clear mistakes. Plus no spacing between certain words. I’m glad I only paid 99 cents for the Kindle version." 

"I don’t think the author watched the Downton Abbey movie right, or totally misinterpreted it." 

"I knew this wasn’t right but I double checked and rewatched the video of Fred Rogers giving his speech to Congress in 1969, he was not wearing his trademark cardigan sweater as the author states in this book. He’s wearing a suit. There’s a bunch of photographs of it as well. Sigh." 

"Sometimes I feel while reading this that I’m getting yelled at for being a fan of Masterpiece." 

"I’m fairly certain 2005’s Bleak House had fifteen episodes, not sixteen. Unless she’s splitting the first episode in two because that one was sixty minutes while the other episodes were only thirty minutes. Gonna look that up, be right back. I’m back, and I was right, it’s only fifteen episodes. I do remember when this aired on Masterpiece in hour long installments, it was eight episodes." 

"Mas terpiece. Did nobody edit or check this book before print? Either they don’t space between two words or put a space in the middle of a longer word." 

"Bette Davis never played Queen Victoria in film or television. She did however portray Queen Elizabeth l twice. Takes two minutes to fact check folks." 

"It says here in 2015 Wolf Hall was the first Tudor program to air on Masterpiece in 25yrs is incorrect. In 2003 they aired Henry VIII and I only remember that cause Sean Bean was in it. That’s only like 12yrs. Plus the Virgin Queen in 2006." 

"Now they calling my fav 80s fun crime shows indisputably crappy with low grade actors. Damn lady. WTF. 😆" 

"Jolyon was not Soames’ brother but his cousin. Come on, it takes just a minute to fact check this stuff." 

"In the 2008 rebranded opening for Masterpiece while Colin Firth is in the montage it is not from Pride & Prejudice because that program was not broadcast on PBS in America originally. The image is from 1999’s The Turn of the Screw." 

"I fully believe no one edited or saw a finale copy before publishing. Did no one notice the countless words running together without a space between them? You can forgive an error like this sure, but this book is riddled with them." 

"How dare they forget to add Kelley Hawes to the cast of 1998s Our Mutual Friend." 

And again they forget to put Kelley Hawes’ name in the cast list for Wives & Daughters. Two strikes. I know they limiting the cast list to three, but come on now." 

"I see they are putting the big names for this cast list, but they leave out Miranda Richardson for The Lost Prince and Gillian Anderson for Bleak House." 

"I’m that person I know, but I just gotta point out for the 2007-2008 season they just say The Complete Jane Austen. Like no, they were all separate movies. You had Persuasion, Mansfield Park, Northanger Abbey, and the miniseries Sense & Sensibility. They premiered for the first time (originally aired on A&E) Emma starring Kate Beckinsale, and 1995’s Pride & Prejudice." 

"Weird that while they are listing all the programs, at least till publication of this book, they don’t mention all the Sharpe films, or even all the Prime Suspect." 

"Can we really consider The Collection or the excellent recent adaptation of Howard’s End true blue Masterpiece programs? I mean Howard’s End first aired on Starz then a year later on Masterpiece. The Collection was exclusive to Amazon Prime for like two years I think. Hmm." 

"Ah, Prime Suspect is in the Mystery section. Makes sense. 

"The few photos are left to be viewed at the end of the book. Wouldn’t it have been more practical, and more visually appealing, to have the photos on the pages were the programs/actors were discussed. Like we’re talking Downton Abbey here’s the text and a photo. I don’t know about this layout they got going here." 

"The best photo for Sherlock they found was the region 2 dvd cover? Are you fucking series?" 

"Why include a photo of 1995’s Pride & Prejudice when it’s not an original production of Masterpiece? I mean they rebroadcast the series like twelve or thirteen years after it premiered on A&E stateside. I call bull shit." 

My Review: 

Not great, but the best we’ll probably ever get which is sad. I’ve watched Masterpiece for decades now so I was super excited to get this book. I’m not sure what I was expecting, not what we got, but it’s not an entirely bad read. I wish it was more of an in-depth look into the productions, there’s fifty years worth. This book does go into some details about certain series, a few classics but much more about certain recent programs. I love Downton Abbey, but Masterpiece is much more than that show. I can forgive a few grammatical errors here and there, or the non spaces between words, but this book is littered with them. Did they not proof read or edit this book before publication? The biggest crime this book commits is the abundance of factual errors. Like the plot lines of certain programs, character relationships, episode counts, years, and so forth. It literally takes two minutes to fact check this stuff. Diehard fans are gonna take notice of those errors. I also hated how they crammed the few photos they had to the back of the book. It’s visually unappealing. I wished the photo was on the page when the program was talked about. With countless photos of the program Sherlock out there this book decided to go with a DVD cover. Completely lazy. Happy I didn’t pay $30 for this, only $0.99 for the Kindle version when it was on sale. Honestly not worth more than that. To be fair this book has interesting elements, just not enough to save it from being a disappointing read.

[spectrumscribe]

a solo act is good, too.

a Humanverse general TMNT universe fic, mostly using 2012 versions and borrowing from IDW here and there. i’ve always headcanoned 2012 Mikey as an aro/ace, so on the free day of the lgbtmntweek i decided to finally write a fic up for the hc. 

(not @ them bc of a slight NSFW situation involved. nothing graphic,  it barely lasts more than five sentences.)

“So Mikey, when’d you and Angel start dating?”

Mikey, age nine and a half, hits pause on his current model building project to give a blank stare to his friend across the table. Mondo keeps staring back, expectant.

“What??” Mikey asks.

“Everyone’s saying you’re girlfriend and boyfriend!” Mondo exclaims. He shoves aside his own Lego to lean forwards, whispering fervently, “You know girls have cooties, right?”

“Uh, yeah? Duh,” Mikey says, then remembers that his cousin Karai and friend April will beat him up for saying that, and diverts the subject. “But we’re not dating! Angel just likes Bionicle, that’s all. She’s fun, and we live really close.”

“Girls don’t like Bionicle,” Mondo says. “My sister hates it. She’s gotta be faking it so you guys can date.”

Mikey feels confused. He thought they were just friends who liked the same toys and TV show. And Angel never said so, so they aren’t dating. “But we’re not-!”

“You totally are!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Boys, settle down,” A passing TA says, and both boys quiet down.

There’s a moment of silence, and Mondo whispers, “Totally dating.”

And Mikey sticks out his tongue, not listening to another word his friend says all through free time. He’ll just ask Angel later, when they walk home from school together.

“My friends were saying the same thing, actually,” Angel says later, when they’re weaving through the streets back to their shared neighborhood.

Mikey scrunches his nose. “What? Why?”

Angel shrugs, reaching up and twisting one of her long dark strands around her finger. “They said we hang out a lot, so we gotta be dating.”

“That’s dumb. Donnie and April hang out a lot and they’re not dating.”

“I said that too, but everyone else thinks they’re dating anyways.”

Mikey groans. “So dumb.”

Angel shrugs again. “It’s not super dumb. I think dating sounds kinda fun.”

“Ew, no.”

“What, you wouldn’t date me?”

“You’re my friend.”

“So?”

“Friends don’t date, they do- friend stuff!”

“My big brother says that dating starts with friendship, though.”

Mikey thinks about that for a moment. “Really? People on TV just kiss a bunch, though.”

“Keno doesn’t kiss his girlfriend too much, they mostly just sit around and talk a lot,” Angel explains. “Or play music in his room, sometimes. So kinda what we do, but I guess big kid stuff instead.”

“So… are we dating, then?” Mikey asks tentatively.

Angel looks at him, contemplative as she examines Mikey’s baggy orange shirt, his cargo shorts, and wildly tangled brown hair. “Maybe? Do you wanna be dating?”

“Uh, we’d still do friend stuff, right?” Mikey doesn’t think kissing part sounds too bad. But only if it’s in little amounts.

“Well duh, we gotta finish Bionicle, right?”

“Oh totally.”

They keep walking for a minute, and Mikey remembers something that people who date are supposed to do. “I think we hold hands now.”

“Oh, right.”

Angel sticks out her hand, and Mikey takes it. They keep walking, go to his house where his brothers are already hanging around in, and they watch Bionicle season 2’s fifth episode together.

They end up kissing possibly three times over the course of the rest of the week, barely pecks on the lips, before Angel says they should probably break up.

“There’s no spark,” She says very seriously. “It’s not you, Mikey, it’s the spark.”

Mikey is hurt for about two seconds, and then shrugs. He’d only really been doing it because people said he’s supposed to. “Okay. You still wanna sleep over?”

It makes a lot more sense, around fourteen, why Angel hadn’t felt any spark for the brief relationship or Mikey. Mostly having to do with her dyeing her hair purple, getting a pink shaded button for her bag, and going steady with Alopex from her apartment building. Mikey isn’t really surprised- Karai had had the same kind of look Angel grew into at the exact same age, and his cousin had been dating girls since she figured out how to bleach her hair.

Mikey, by fourteen, has had exactly one relationship, three first kisses, and lacks motivation to seek out another situation to build those counts. He’s moved on from his Bioncle years- though he keeps some toys, for the sake of nostalgia- and dived headfirst into the Marvel comic’s universe.

The school library has an excellent selection, and at the beginning of his fourteenth year he meets a girl buried up to her ears in that section. Renet and Mikey hit it off immediately, swapping knowledge and recommendations and favorites and strong opinions about individual universes.

“Who’s your friend?” Leo asks after one evening, when Mikey had spent about an hour and a half debating heatedly on the phone. Guardians of the Galaxy verses the Avengers- who did more on the grand scale of things for the earth and its wellbeing? Mikey voted the Guardians, but Renet had fought back valiantly that ground troops frequently made more differences than long-range artillery support.

“Renet! She just moved here like, three weeks ago or something,” Mikey says, hanging up the phone. The debate would have to be continued at school, next lunchtime. He turns to his sixteen year old brother, grinning. “Can she come over for dinner sometime? You guys’ll love her, I swear.”

“Her?” Raph asks loudly from the living room. “Holy shit, did you finally get a girlfriend?”

Mikey frowns. “Uh. No? She’s just my comics buddy.”

“Who you’re inviting for dinner,” Leo says pointedly. “Who you just spent like, two whole hours talking to, instead of texting.”

“Hey Donnie, Mike’s finally got a crush on someone!” Raph hollers. Crashing follows and Donnie skids down the steps of their second story in all his fifteen year old lanky glory. He nearly wipes out on the pile of laundry by the steps.

“Did we get blackmail yet?” Donnie asks immediately, hardly taking the time to steady himself.

“Working on it,” Leo replies.

Mikey slaps his hands over his eyes, groaning. “Guyyys! Shut up! That’s not how this is! She’s just- really cool, okay? And knows about superhero shit!”

He hears his older brothers make disbelieving sounds, and Mikey ignores them all. Maybe he deserves a little teasing- he’d done so to all of them about their crushes- but it’s! Not! Like that!

And then the first school dance of the year rolls around, and Mikey is faced yet again by social pressure to be dating someone. He has limited options for a dance date: his cousin, who scares everyone and is probably too busy to come. His best friend, who has two dates already (Mikey doesn’t know how Mondo managed that or how he’s going to keep that a secret from both dates, but he promises his friend the funeral will be a nice one). His other best friend, but LH is twenty-something and would really scare everybody, even though he’s just a big softie who likes leather too much. None of those dates are acceptable, in hindsight.

Or there’s Renet.

Mikey wants to go to the dance, because dancing is great and he loves social events in general, so he agonizes a bit and finally asks Renet to go with him.

She turns bright pink when he does, and fumbles her hold on issue four of Wolverine and the X-men. “O-oh, Mikey. I didn’t know you, um, felt that way about me?”

Mikey rushes to abolish that idea. “No! I mean- I like you, but not like that! It’s just a stupid dance, okay? I just want to dress up nice and go dancing, I swear.”

Renet sighs in relief. “Okay, good. I’m not really supposed to date until I’m older anyways. I’m glad we don’t have to have such a totally uncomfortable convo.”

Mikey slumps in his chair, huffing. “You and me both. So will you?”

“Be your date?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure! I love dances, they’re totally bodacious,” Renet giggles, and Mikey grins in return. His friend’s outdated slang has to be one of his favorite things about her. He kind of wonders why isn’t crushing on her- Renet is curvy and cute and knows a ton about comics- but she’s just his friend.

Mikey puts that thought aside, and asks Renet what the hell a corsage is.

When the night rolls around, she shows up in a dress and hijab that’s color coordinated and he puts on actual dress pants for once. He wears his favorite flannel and a bowtie borrowed off Donnie- and grins and bears it as his father, brothers, and their friends all snap pictures of him and Renet.

“You two are so cute,” April comments, taking a picture as Mikey sticks his tongue out at her.

“I hate all of you,” He grouches, but smiles again so Renet’s parents will have good photos. At least he gets to have revenge, snatching up a camera and getting all the angles possible of Leo, Donnie, April, Casey, and Raph in their outfits. The five of them are going stag together- for reasons Mikey is Highly Suspicious of, regarding Donnie, Casey, April, and Leo in particular- and he’s only a little mad they didn’t tell him going stag was an option.

The dance itself goes great- good music, good mood, mediocre refreshments and minimal buzzkill from teachers supervising. Mikey sees and meets his family throughout the evening, throwing down on the dancefloor with Renet and their classmates. He sees Leo making his Nervous But Trying Not To Be face as he talks to a couple of his classmates, mostly towards one Asian guy with dyed white hair. Mikey also sees Raph drifting from the group with his friends and twin, towards the punch table and snacks, which leaves Donnie, Casey, and April shimmying in a circle and looking really awkward, and why can’t they just figure themselves out already, jeeze.

Mikey focuses mostly on twirling Renet around, and having fun with that. Mondo, who is soaked in punch from his dates dumping him and going off together, gives Mikey meaningful looks directed towards Renet.

Mikey ignores his friend and highly awkward family members, and just enjoys dancing with his comics buddy. Renet, at the end of the night, is flushed and grinning and Mikey really does wonder why he doesn’t feel the need to kiss her. She is awfully cute.

When the drop her off at home, all they say to each other is a reminder that comic swap is this Thursday and to remember to bring the ones they’d borrow from one another. And then Renet leaves, shutting the door and shutting Mikey inside a van with his stupid nosy family.

“So,” Leo says, and Mikey doesn’t have to look towards the driver seat to hear that grin.

“You two crazy kids kiss tonight?” Casey finishes, poking the back of Mikey’s head. Mikey swats the hand and tells them all to piss off. His family does not in fact piss off and pokes for juicy details for at least another few blocks.

There’s no ‘juicy details’ to tell, even after he and Renet meet up the rest of the week and keep meeting up. They swap comics and have debates and just hang out, still just friends and unchanged from the dance date. Mikey wonders on and off why he doesn’t have a crush on Renet- or anyone, really- but brushes it off in favor of the new Superior Ironman series coming out soon.

It stays that way, through years fifteen and sixteen- while Leo finally works up the courage to admit out loud he likes guys and ask Usagi out, Donnie and Casey and April keep making circles around each other and the elephant in the room, and Raph starts making eyes at a cadet in training he’s met at the gym. Even Renet starts going steady with a boy her family approves of, and she approves of even more so, and Mondo goes through about five more relationships, all ending in various states of chaotic mutuality.

Mikey watches his family and friends all be in love or at least interested in other people, and Mikey just keeps feeling more interested in his comics and skating.

“Maybe you’re gay, like me,” Angel suggests at one point, while they’re sitting at her kitchen table and cramming for a bio test.

“I dunno, maybe?” Mikey answers, and doesn’t feel against dating a guy, but feels about as enthused as he would dating a girl. Or anyone in between, honestly.

“You already tried girls, give some guys a shot. More for me.”

“You thinking of cheating on Alo?”

Angel flicks an eraser at Mikey. It lodges in his coils and he doesn’t even bother getting it out.

“Hell no, and if you say anything like that to her I’ll bust your kneecaps.”

“Noted.”

Mikey actually gives it a shot, dating guys. Dating in general. Keno introduces Mikey to a delivery boy his age at a local pizzeria, and Woody’s not bad to hang out with. He’s got curly hair to Mikey’s coily, freckles except in red, and skates most weekends. And he likes comics, albeit indie ones, and they find a bit of common ground by breaking in each other for new fields of reading.

It goes great, chaste kisses and holding hands and having coffee dates to skate parks- up until Woody asks to take it a step further. And Mikey doesn’t… want to.

“Is it your first time or something?” His boyfriend asks, and Mikey nods. “Then we’ll… wait, I guess. Until you’re comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Mikey says, and tries to not feel guilty for not being ready right now. He knows for a fact Mondo lost his virginity ages ago, described in detail that Mikey had to make his friend shut up about, that Angel lost hers a while ago, told in much less detail, and that most of their classmates have. He also knows that his brothers had at least tried things at this point, and Mikey hasn’t.

He feels a little left behind and frustrated about it.

He tells his buddy, Linnorm Hirutarum, named after a dragon because his parents had been awesome, all about it as LH tends to the vegetable patch behind his tiny house. Mikey flops all over the grass by it, grumbling and sighing, and snitching lettuce when he pretends LH isn’t looking.

“If you are not ready, then you are not ready,” LH says sensibly in his usual growling tone. Which is default for him and basically his version of a warm-fuzzy tone anyways.

“But I should be!” Mikey exclaims. “Everyone else was. Is. Augh.”

“Have you talked about this with Woody?”

“I… I don’t want him thinking it’s about him. Because it’s not! It’s just stupid whatever stuff for me and I need to get over it.”

LH’s shadow falls over him, and Mikey waits for his huge friend to gently lower himself onto the grass. LH’s wide scars move with him as he does, displayed by a sleeveless shirt only in the safety of the hedge protected backyard. His hand comes down on Mikey’s veritable afro, and pats Mikey’s head as he keeps talking.

“I know people who have made rash decisions about these sorts of things,” LH says seriously. “If you are not ready, then do not force yourself to. Respect your own boundaries.”

Mikey sighs, but agrees to respect himself. It’s easy to agree in that moment, with only LH’s non-judgemental presence near him, but it’s harder when he’s with Woody again and trying to explain himself without being rude.

He gives it a try, the whole sex thing. LH said to respect his boundaries, but Mikey thinks he can do it if he just figures out how it goes. Everyone else likes it, so shouldn’t he?

They talk about it, set up a date, and Mikey gets ready to experience the… experience.

It ends up being an unexciting, uncomfortable half hour of sloppy kisses and bumping parts. Mikey tries his best, but can’t figure out why anyone works so hard to experience this.

When it’s all over, Mikey hasn’t felt anything remotely close to pleasure, and actually feels a little over touched. Woody is a bit flushed, breathing fast by Mikey’s ear, but doesn’t seem super pleased either.

“…you didn’t enjoy it, did you?” He asks.

Mikey covers his eyes, and sighs. “No. Sorry.”

“Yeah, I thought you didn’t. Sorry, Mikey.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mikey says, taking his arms away and staring at the ceiling of Woody’s room. “I’m pretty sure this one’s all on me.”

They sit in stiff silence for a moment, before Woody asks if Mikey wants to stay for dinner. Mikey declines as gracefully as he can, and goes home instead. Slogging upstairs and heading into the shower to wash off.

He’s pretty sure he shouldn’t feel so much better, alone in his bedroom and freshly cleaned of the lingering smell of body fluids. His brothers find him there later, in a bathrobe and watching the original Twin Peaks on his laptop, and they ask him why he washed so early.

Mikey debates for a moment, and decides they’ll find out somehow anyways. “I had sex.” He’s unsurprised to hear Leo choke on his own spit, and Raph and Donnie make twin sounds of shock and disbelief. “Yup. Popped the cherry but good. You guys can stop teasing me about it, now.”

Does he sound a little bitter? Mikey thinks he does. From the way his brothers hover awkwardly in the doorway, they heard the bitterness, too.

“…you okay, Mikey?” Leo asks, genuinely concerned.

Mikey shrugs. “I’m fine. It just went awful, that’s all.”

Raph pats Leo on the shoulder, simultaneous with Donnie, as they both silently nominate the eldest to deal with the situation. Leo shoots them both an abandoned look, but steps into Mikey’s room to come sit on his bed. Mikey doesn’t pause his video, using it as a distraction from his prickling shame.

Leo watches him for a moment, before asking, “You used protection, right?” and Mikey groans, covering his face.

“It wasn’t that kind of sex, okay?”

“Oh. Um. Good?”

“Smooth,” Raph comments from the doorway, audibly swatted at by Donnie.

“Anyways,” Leo recovers. “You were both… you talked about it beforehand, right? You both wanted it?”

“Yeah,” Mikey says miserably into his sleeve.

“…you know first times are always bad, right, Mikey? It takes- um- practice-”

“It wasn’t because of that, Leo. You can stop.”

“Thank you,” Leo says gratefully. Donnie and Raph snicker from the doorway. “So… what was it because?”

“I can’t believe this is a conversation we’re having.”

“Shh!”

“If it’s somethin’ that kid did-”

“Raph we talked about that contingency already: only if Mikey says so-”

“It wasn’t Woody,” Mikey says, before death threats start getting thrown around. “It was me, okay? I made it suck.” He takes his arms off his face, shooting a look at all three of his siblings. “And before you say it- no it wasn’t just because it was my first time. It sucked ‘cause I suck and I couldn’t figure out how to enjoy sex, okay?”

A beat of silence, all three of his brothers staring at him, and then Leo breaks the lull.

“Mikey… you don’t ‘figure out’ how to enjoy sex. You just- enjoy it. It happens naturally.”

Mikey’s cheeks burn and he scowls. “Well apparently not with me.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet?” Raph suggests. “I mean, you know me and how things go with that.”

Mikey shakes his head. “I kinda doubt it; I’ve tried to get crushes on like, ten different kids at school and nada. Zip.”

Donnie tilts his head, long hair following the movement. “Maybe when you’re older you’ll be more interested?”

Mikey sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so. But it’s been like- never a thing, okay? I should’ve had feelings or whatever at some point, at least once, right?”

A collective “uhhhh” from his brothers and Mikey turns over into his pillow to suffocate himself. Leo pats his back comfortingly, saying Mikey should just give himself more time, keep an open mind to chances in the future- and Mikey makes a wordless complaining sound into his pillow for it.

He and Woody break it off a few weeks later. His friend tried, and Mikey recognizes that, but Woody needs a relationship that involves stuff Mikey just… can’t figure out how to give. He tries only two more times before they just call it quits. It’s not working, and trying to make it work is just frustrating for them both.

They keep being friends afterwards, and that’s actually better in the long run. It’s everything Mikey really wanted out of the relationship anyways, so he doesn’t feel like he’s lost anything.

He feels shitty for not being able to put out like he wanted to, though. And that drives him nuts for the rest of the year, until he’s seventeen and graduating finally, and gearing up to follow his siblings to local universities. Donnie graduated ages ago, but stayed local because of their family and he, April, and Casey’s really obvious secret relationship. Casey is in mechanics, and April in general sciences; Donnie is in both and more, because he’s insane. Leo is already a few years into his share of university courses, a hopeful nurse in the future, and Raph is neck deep in his art courses.

Mikey doesn’t know what he’s going to go for, and signs up for a random collection of electives to start with. Social sciences and psychology looks sort of fun, and so do dance courses. But those are months away, and before then is summer, family time, and June’s Pride Parade.

They’ve gone a couple times, when everyone has the day off from work or classes, and this year Mikey doesn’t have a shift at his outreach program scheduled on the parade’s date. So he, his family and friends, all end up watching the parade go by in a loosely connected group.

The standard drag queens, sponsor programs, and generally proud and loud folks roll by, music and cheer its usual levels of boisterousness. Mikey snags a couple plastic necklaces that are being given out, and just enjoys hanging out with his family. He waves to Angel and Alopex as they march by, part of the local lesbian representatives, watching the familiar pink and red flags flutter as they do, but pauses as the next group follows them.

It’s just a handful of people, walking with grey, white, purple, and black flags, mixed with ones very similar but instead of purple, they have green. There’s some polite clapping as they go past, and Mikey nudges Donnie beside him. “Hey, Donnie, what’re those flags for?”

“I… don’t actually know?” His phone is out within seconds, reflexes of a true technology addict. “Let’s see what our almighty lord and savior google has to say about it.” Mikey pushes close, reading as much as he can as Donnie flicks through the search faster than he can take it. “They’re- huh. They’re for ‘asexuality’ and... ‘aromantics’? I don’t even know what the second one is, and I’ve never heard about that first one being applied to anything other than asexual reproduction.”

“More explanation, please?” Mikey asks impatiently.

“It’s says- don’t push, I’m trying to scroll- it says it’s for individuals with little or no sexual drive, or little to no interest in romance. Actually that sounds contradictive, why are they listed together…”

Mikey’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Well, that’s a gross oversimplification of everything here. There’s a spectrum for it, and apparently different categories? This is actually pretty interesting. I wonder why I’ve never read about it before.”

Mikey snags the phone from his brother, scrolling back to the top and rereading the first few paragraphs. He ignores Donnie’s grabby hands and keeps reading, feeling a twisty hopeful emotion build in his chest.

“Here,” He says, tossing the phone back at his brother. “hold my spot.” And he takes off at a jog to catch up with the parade members. They’re not too far ahead, and Mikey just has to avoid slipping on stray necklaces as he runs over to them.

“Hey- hey!” He shouts, catching up with the first person he can. The woman turns questioningly towards him, and Mikey blurts, “When did you- did you first know?”

She blinks at him, adjusting her hold on the big flag pole on her shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“That you’re asexual,” Mikey asks, heart tempo speeding up. “How’d you know?”

She stares at him a second longer, and then grins. “Around the time I had my first girlfriend, and I looked back at the times with my other partners and figured out I was always more interested in watching the movie than I was in making out.”

Mikey grins back. “Yo- same hat!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Totally! My ex always wanted to make out during Luke Cage and I was always like- dude no there’s good stuff happening. That’s. Wow.” Mikey feels a little breathless. “So that’s what it is? It’s not like- just a me thing?”

He barely hears the crowd around them, his focus tunneled around the conversation and the woman holding the flag. Mikey waits for a denial or an okay, a little scared while he’s so excited.

The woman smiles kindly. “No, that’s not just a you thing. We’re not a huge community, but there’s aces out there. Do you think you’re one of us?”

“I don’t know, I’m- I’m hoping so?” Mikey’s heart does a little twist. “I mean. My bro just pulled up the google explanation, and it sounds really, really. Um. Like me?”

The woman reaches up to the front of her jean jacket, and reaches into a pocket. When she pulls out her hand, she holds something out to Mikey.

“Look into it a little more, but if you think asexuality fits you- then welcome to the club, kid.”

Mikey takes the little button, grinning ear to ear. He thinks he’s shaking he’s so ecstatic. “Hey, would it be cool if I hugged you right now? I think you just solved like half my life problems.”

The woman laughs, and holds her arm out. It’s an awkward hug, because they’re both still walking and she’s carrying a flag, but Mikey appreciates it wholly.

When he comes back to his family, he’s got a new pin stuck to his shirt and an elated, hopeful feeling in his chest behind it.

“Hey guys, guess what?”

Turns out, not really feeling like dating people is fine all on its own.

So while Leo and Usagi go through the ups and downs of long-standing relationships, Donnie, Casey, and April all share their usual collective awkwardness and romantic overtures, Raph finally lands a date with the cadet Y’Gythgba he’s been following around for ages, and Karai and Shinigami disappear over the eastern horizon to share their seventh anniversary-

Mikey cracks a fresh pile of comics in his bedroom, turns up his music, and calls Renet on Skype to have a comparison hangout of their latest picks. He hangs out with Mondo and Woody around the skate park before that, and rolls by Angel’s place to say hi to his friend and her family on the way back. He pops in at LH’s place, trading half the casserole Angel’s mom gave to him for fresh veggies, chatting about his day so far and plans for a comic binge later. He sees his friends, does what he always does with them, and departs from them all one after another.

When he goes home, enjoying the summer heat all on his own and excited to video call his best girl who-is-his-friend and nothing more- he doesn’t feel even the slightest bit lonely as he walks. Like he always has.

[softplacepod]

Episode 4: Mistakes and Monsters

Show notes & transcript below the cut.

SHOW NOTES:

Seventy Years of Sleep - https://cardiamachina.co.vu/tagged/seventy%20years%20of%20sleep

Critical Role - https://critrole.com/

“No One is Alone” - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xaxP_kErTU

TRANSCRIPT:

EP 4: MISTAKES AND MONSTERS

Hello, bees. It's me, Sara, sending you light and love, and also a bunch of things I've been super into lately that I think might be your jam. Welcome to A Soft Place to Land.

Item the first: We deserve a soft epilogue, my love

Or, my Bucky Barnes problem

Everyone who knows me just groaned a little bit at that subtitle. If I’ve talked to you too much about anything, ever, it’s probably either Leverage or Bucky Barnes slash the Winter Soldier from the Marvel universe. Some of you may assume it springs from my decade-long angry crush on Sebastian Stan, who plays him in the movies, and that certainly didn’t help. But the real problem is that Bucky Barnes fits into the mold almost perfectly of “fictional characters to whom Sara will get overly attached very quickly.” Naomi Nagata from The Expanse. Donna Noble from Doctor Who. Duck Newton from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty. Bigwig from Watership Down. A million others.

For me, there is something very meaningful about a character with whom you initially click. You start a piece of fiction and something in you just resonates. It also, to be honest, sometimes makes engaging with fiction difficult. I want Bucky to be happy. I want Donna to be happy. I want my precious babies to be happy and I don’t want anyone or anything to hurt them ever again. I haven’t rewatched Captain America: Civil War in a long time, because I don’t want to watch what that movie show what it knows about Bucky, and I don’t want to watch what it chooses to do about it, and it’s not even that I’m mad about as that I don’t want to see it again.

There’s a poem that makes the rounds on Tumblr and in fandom circles often. That it comes from Seventy Years of Sleep, a fan-written poetry cycle about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes is, I think, less well known, but makes it mean more, honestly, to me. The bit I’m thinking of goes,

I think we deserve

A soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people

And we’ve suffered enough.

And that’s what I want for my faves: a soft epilogue, loosed from their suffering. A time and a place to heal, to learn to live with the pain they have caused, and the harm they have done, and to find the next right thing to do.

Item the second: Venom in your veins

Or, I promise I’m not going to talk about Critical Role too much

It’s just that I have been rewatching the show during this time, and it’s been hitting me especially hard. It’s voice actors who play D&D together, basically. If you are an anime, video game, or internet person, you’ve almost certainly heard one or more of these voice actors in things. And if you’re a tabletop role-playing game person, you’ve almost certainly heard of the D&D game they play on the internet. And that’s all great, I’m happy to hit you up to explain the appeal, or to advise you where in the first campaign to start watching (it’s later than you think!). But lately I’ve been stuck on a line, a particular line, spoken in a particular way by a particular character. I’m struggling to give a little context without spoiling anything, so I’ll say: this speech, which I’m about to read to you, is by a character who has done horrible, horrible things in their past. They were manipulated into the choosing, but they still chose, and they believe without question that the choices they made have doomed them. They will never be forgiven, and they will never deserve forgiveness. Or at least, that’s what they believe - their friends have different beliefs. But anyway, this character is talking to another, who has recently come to light as having also made choices that, in the choosing, may have damned them forever to be unforgivable. And here’s the speech. It’s short, I promise, and I’ve cut out one instance where the speaker says the listener’s name. Okay.

You listen to me. I know what you are talking about. I know. And the difference between you and I, is thinner than a razor. I know what it means to have other people complicate your desires and wishes. And I was like you, was. I know what a fool I have been for years. And I am looking at him as if I am looking in a mirror. You didn’t account for us–good. That is life. Shit hits you sideways in life, and no one is prepared, no one is ready. These people…changed me. These people can change you. You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it. You have a rare opportunity here. One chance–to save yourself. And we are offering it. And I am pleading with you. To find your better self–he is still there. Maybe you and I are both damned. But we can choose to do something, and leave it better than it was before.

It’s important, I think, to note that “you were not born with venom in your veins” is in iambic pentameter, which always tickles the back of my mind when I hear it even if I don’t know why, thanks, theater. And it’s important to note, too, that this is an improvised show by voice actors, and that the character speaking is played by someone with a heavy background in theater, and that when the actor said that line as the character I personally burst into tears and then yelled about it for like fifteen minutes to a friend who’s also a big Critical Role fan and was also crying.

Item the third: it was learned

Or, all my faves are the same person for a reason

So, okay. This is getting a little heavier than I expected, but we’ve got one more place to look before we step back out into the sunlight. Me.

Hi, I’m Sara. Once upon a time, I was a person with a set of core, sturdy beliefs. They made me who I was. Every decision I made was based on them. Every action I took, every ripple I made, came from this core set of beliefs. And acting off of those beliefs, in the ways I was taught and shown, hurt people. I hurt people.

I was condescending and cruel, vicious, self-righteous. I insisted everyone live up to an example, and when they didn’t, I wrote them off as failures. I believed so hard and so loud and so much that everyone who didn’t believe the same rang as a liar or a bad person to me. I spent, let’s say, fifteen or sixteen years soaked in and taught and shown that belief, and then, in the space of about a year, it was ripped out of me.

Over the next couple of years, I began to collapse, slow but sure, as the cornerstone and entirety of the person I was dissolved away. When you are built around a belief, and then you don’t believe it anymore, and it’s gone - who the hell are you? Who do you become?

When you realize, as you’re terrified and grieving, as you’re brokenly trying to assemble shards into something like a person, that you hurt people before, when you were acting out of your belief, what do you do? How do you make amends? How to reckon with the pain you caused, and your at the time sincere belief that the pain was right and good, justified, that you were doing the right thing? That you did something terrible, many terrible somethings, out of intentions that were sincere and deeply held? That the people who taught you those beliefs, that the people who encouraged them, still hold those beliefs, and may or may not ever realize how deeply you held them, too, and how the damage you have done sprang so strongly from that core? How do you make friends now? How do you deserve them? How do you live with the things you’ve done and said, the chances you were given and ignored, the thousands of ways you could have seen the pain you were causing and just…stopped?  And you didn’t?

There’s a reason Bucky Barnes is my favorite fictional character.

Item the final: No one is alone

Or, one another’s terrible mistakes

Into the Woods has been an odd sort of touchstone in my life. In high school speech class, reading through a huge filing cabinet full of scripts to chop into monologues and duets, I stumbled over it. I don’t know why it was in there, it’s a musical, and there wasn’t, at the time, a musical theatre program in my school. It didn’t, I don’t think, have the musical notation in with it, not that I can read music well enough to have done anything if it was there. But I, having grown up with fractured fairy tales, kept reading, and got to the lyrics for the song “No One is Alone.” It comes towards the end: two adults talking to two children about loss, and grief, and the ways they can shape our vision. In this little song, there are so many connected ideas about how fear and sadness and hurt can make us forget who we are. That everyone makes mistakes, that no single person has a handle on what’s right or good. That every choice has a consequence, and that every consequence leads to another choice. That our moralities are constructed around our histories and our choices. That most people are, most of the time, just trying to get through the world with the people they love. Witches and giants aren’t the enemy: the pain we cause out of our own pain is the enemy. It can be, in these times, in our interconnected world, so hard to choose. So hard to choose kindness over retaliation, so hard to choose justice over comfort, so hard to choose action over silence. And it can feel so alone. You, standing under a giant’s shadow, choosing to listen to what the giant is saying before you strike it down. You, staring a witch in the face, choosing to understand the decisions she made that led her here. You, looking into your own heart, seeing how every mistake you’ve made and hurt you’ve endured has built you. Your pain, our pain, makes us, in some ways. It tries to tell us what’s right and what’s wrong, but we still get to decide if we agree. No one is alone - not us, not you, not the people who are not on your side. And so, the song insists, since none of us are alone, we can shape the effects of our mistakes. We can make better mistakes. We decide what’s right. We decide what’s good.

[music]

Theme music for A Soft Place to Land is “Repose,” by Chase Miller, off his album Burnout. Chase’s music can be found at chasemiller.bandcamp.com. Show notes and episode transcripts are at softplacepod.tumblr.com. You can find me on Twitter @cyranoh_ and you can listen to me jabber on as the foil to my very good friend Anna on our parenting podcast, The Parent Rap, at parentrap.net.

I love you very much. Take care of yourselves. See you soon.

[spnsimpleman]

The Unknowns: Twenty Five

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  A one-shot turned into a long ass Prologue.  One   Two   Three   Four   Five Six   Seven   Eight Nine   Ten  Eleven   Twelve   Thirteen   Fourteen Fifteen   Sixteen   Seventeen   Eighteen   Nineteen Twenty   Twenty-one   Twenty-Two   Twenty Three  Twenty Four

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 4250

The dark forest was suffocating. The tall, dark trees, skinny but reaching with hidden claws that ripped at my hair, arms, and shirt. I could only go so fast on treacherous ground but I couldn’t ignore the hissing laughter echoing around me or how the trees seemed to breathe.

I needed to get out of here, I needed to move faster. I needed to warn Sam.

A dark shadow raced across my path maybe ten feet in front of me. I veered hard in the opposite direction. A wooden fence came out of nowhere and the pain slammed into my thighs before I was airborne. I hit the ground hard and air was non-existent.

The heavens above me peeking through the trees shivered.

I needed to move! I didn’t have time for this but nothing was responding. I forced every ounce of energy to my muscles that wouldn’t respond. I needed to roll over, to get up, to move!

A face leaned in and those eyes… those damned eyes burned into me. “Sorry about that, Princess, but you just wouldn’t listen.”

Suddenly, I was upright in the middle of a field and he was standing in front of me. I tried to back up but my legs still wouldn’t respond. The yellow-eyed demon smiled and I grit my teeth. “I could make an exception for you.” He waved his hand and Sam was standing beside him, staring straight ahead, “you could be his Queen.” I growled and he laughed, waving his hand again. The image wavered. “You weren’t around back when Queens didn’t always fuck their kings. At least, not just them.” His smile widened with such a wolfish delight just before the entire scene changed and Dean appeared next to a familiar bed, his arm wrapped around me, his other hand diving into my pants as my head fell back.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to move away from the image, but I was still rooted to the spot. Moans echoed around me, sounds that were once just Dean and mine, but somehow he was perverting them.

I hummed loudly to clear the image, to ignore whatever the demon hoped to accomplish.    

Hot breath scraped against my cheek and ear, my skin crawled. I wouldn’t open my eyes. I wouldn’t give him anything. “I can make exceptions for you just because you’re so special. I’d let you keep them both. For a price.”

“For a piece of shit that’s been around so long, you don’t know a damn thing about us.”

Fingers dug into my cheeks and jaw then my face was jerked up. My eyes opened without my command and I stared into those disease riddled irises filled with an intensity I couldn’t fathom. “You will see. It takes your kind a little longer but it’ll come.” He lifted his wrist up in front of my face and the welling blood was far too bright in the dark. The stench stung my nose as he shoved it against my mouth, smashing my lips against the open wound, “just a few vitamins can go a long way, kid.”

I thrashed with everything in me, but I was still frozen with screams stuck in my throat as my body burned from the inside out.

I slammed against the ground, air knocked from my lungs. I jumped to my feet, thrusting my fist through nothing but air. I spun around searching for him, but the room slowly came into focus. I was still at Bobby’s. A soft cry shook out on an exhale. I touched my mouth and my cheeks as I rushed over to the mirror above the dresser.

Dry. Normal. My eyes were still bloodshot from the alcohol earlier. Pamela must’ve given me her own special hangover cure when she brought me to bed because my head wasn’t spinning. At least, not that kind of spinning.

A glimpse of the nightmare from last week, blood leaking out of Pamela’s mouth flashed in front of me. I covered my mouth as another whimper slipped out.

It wasn’t real.

It didn’t happen.

Just a dream.

Another nightmare.

I stared in the mirror reminding myself he held no power over me. “He can’t hurt me there… not in my dreams,” I whispered to my reflection. Deep down the fear shivered, lie, lie, lie.

A buzzing vibration made me jump unleashing another shaky cry. I glanced at the door, still shut. I crept over to the bed steeling myself for what could be on the line imagining a hundred thousand terrible things. I shook my head to erase the ridiculous notion of a phone call from the source of a nightmare.

My phone continued vibrating on the nightstand. Sam flashed in bold letters across the small screen and I forced a deep breath. I picked it up chiding myself as sat on the bed blowing out a long breath that was still too shaky.

I cleared my throat as I opened the phone, “hey.”

“I need help. I think you not being here is making it worse. If you had seen his face earlier tonight… he…”

“Sam, wait, slow down. What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” I held the phone away and cleared my throat again before bringing it back, “just woke up from a... nap. Are you okay?” I held my breath through the empty space over the phone line.

“We bumped into this other hunter and he’s… something’s not right and Dean… he won’t listen to me right now.”

I released a breath and looked at the time on my phone. It wasn’t even that late, I had only fallen asleep a little over an hour ago. That rage I had felt earlier through the bond, had that really been just hours ago? “I’ll talk to him. I’m pretty sure I felt him.”

“I'm sorry for calling like this. I know it's…”

“Don't. Don't you ever apologize for calling me.”

“It's not fair to…”

“DONT!” I didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did and I had to force another deep breath. “I don't care what's going on or how much you hate me, I will always be here when you need me. Always, Sammy.”

Another pause and my chest ached.

“I don't hate you.” He was so quiet.

I dropped my head into my hand, picturing that little boy who snuck into my room after a nightmare. Did he still have those nightmares? How had they changed over the years when we stopped talking about them? “I'm not so sure about that but it doesn't change the…”

“I don't. I could never hate you. I'm just…” he sighed.

The silence filled me with such an exquisite pain.  “You have every right to…”

“I love you, y/n. I will always love you, I could never hate you. I just… I'm angry. I always seem to have something to be angry about and being angry at you hurts.” His breathing stuttered, “it hurts so much but I can't erase it. I got your message earlier and I think you’re right about so many things but...”

I swallowed hard but the lump didn't budge, “some things can't be fixed.”

“But time can loosen it. Time can change it. I have to rely on that because I can't imagine losing you. I can't. I need you too much.” I covered my mouth but that fractured noise still squeaked out. “It will get better… I’ll find a way because I have to. I just need time.”

“I’ll be here no matter what, no matter how long.” Those yellow eyes flashed in front of my face and I squeezed my eyes shut thrusting it away.

“I know.”

The silence fell again and I wanted to say something but I didn’t have any answers.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“The thing with Sarah… when you were… you were trying to keep me from doing something I would regret, weren’t you?”

I tried to swallow the thickness in my throat even though nothing worked, “yeah.” It was too airy, too choked. It wasn’t right. It all felt so wrong.

“And when the demon had gotten into your head… you were afraid it saw Jess.”

It was so much more than that but yes! I opened my mouth but only a choked exhale broke free.

“It did. That’s why you froze and then lost it on the front lawn. I’ve been thinking about it. Going over everything you put yourself through for me. For her.” He sighed, “I could never hate you. Never.”

I covered my mouth as best as I could but I couldn’t stop the cries that smacked against it, or the air that escaped my nose and gave me away.

“Goodnight.”

I pulled myself together enough to whisper, “night, Sammy.”

I dropped the phone on the nightstand and grabbed my pillow to swallow the cries I couldn’t hold back. I rocked on the bed, terrified the tears would only make me fall back to sleep if I allowed myself to lay down and get comfortable.

I had to do everything possible not to fall asleep tonight. I’d wait until the sun was up. It’d be better once the sun was up. I had no proof for that but I didn’t care if it was a lie, I needed it just to be able to breathe.

When had it become so hard just to breathe?

~~

My days were becoming so predictable in such a heavy way. Read, eat, run, read, wash, pass out, and repeat. My late nights were spent with my cell phone clutched to my chest until it was pressed against my ear unless Dean was on a stakeout. Fortunately, most nights I fell asleep to Dean’s voice and woke to his goodnight texts.

I had yet to tell him about the nightmares. It couldn’t affect me in the real world, not through dreams, but I’ve had one a week for the last four weeks. At least those are the ones I can remember.

There was nothing about it in any of the old tomes I’ve been through. Nothing about the demon with yellow eyes or any prophecies ever actually being fulfilled. There was some old medieval lure about incubus and succubus but I didn’t believe for a minute the damned thing was trying to impregnate me.

Maybe for a few seconds. Every other hour.

The days stretched on forever and I still hadn’t found anything that lined up with the information that I did have.

Yellow eyes. A psychic army. Made of a bunch of demon babies.

Ridiculous. But what he said about kings… why was that dream so clear? Not one of them have been as vivid as that one.

If the dreams kept up their usual schedule, I was due for one in the next two nights.

I twisted in the kitchen chair, stretching my back as much as I could before scanning the books filling every open inch of the table. My eyelids heavy and my neck stiff, but I had no answers, no information that could fill in all the blanks.

There were so many blanks.

How could I help stop anything when I didn’t even know what I was looking for? My hope that I could stumble across something important if I only kept at it was dwindling with every pointless bit of knowledge I combed through, every ancient book that passed through my hands.

My head bobbed again and I put the book down on the table. I stretched my arms over my head and stood from the table. The coffee pot was empty, my mug perched in the tiny open spot on the table long past cold. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes until spots burst against the backs of my lids.

Still no answers. No magic equation that would give me something to go off of.

The image of Mary staring up at me, the plea in her eyes, the pain. That night was not your fault. It was mine.

Had Mary gone through the same thing? Had the demon visited her in dreams… filled her womb with its blood and waited until a child was knit together in it? I pressed my hand to my stomach and thought back to the last time I had my period with agony scraping through my chest.

I shook my head viciously and shoved the thoughts away. I wasn’t late and I had been on birth control for far too long.

It was ridiculous. There’s no way Sam had anything like that in him. I thought of that sweet baby Sam and I had found through his vision. Rosie. Her mother didn’t look like someone plagued by dreams of insane demons feeding her blood.

Shame my mother ran out without even a goodbye to another safe house. She could’ve been a nice and easy distraction but then I probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with any discussion anyway.

Poetic that she was the one slipping out while my back was turned this time.

“We need to get out of here.”

I jumped at Jess’s voice and released a harsh curse. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She chuckled, dark and low, setting a shiver off down my spine, “you’re doing a fine job of that on your own.” She glanced at the coffee mug with a frown, “have you even eaten anything today?”

Ancient demon names swarmed my mind, but the one I sought so close like it was buried in the tip of my tongue. I shrugged and a tang filled my mouth. I gagged and grabbed the mug, ignoring the cold liquid as I swished it around to remove the filth.

It was all in my head. Just in my head. It was just a couple of nightmares when I’ve had so many others. I couldn’t let them affect me like this.

“Do you even know what time it is? Do you know why you’re so damn exhausted?”

I finally looked at her, the scowl that dug into her brows, her assessing gaze that made me feel too bare. I had no answer. I swallowed with some difficulty as I searched for my phone and then panic sliced through me, had someone called? Had something happened to give her that look? I jumped up, “Sam and De…”

She cut in as she stalked toward me, “are fine.” She passed by and opened the fridge, reached in, and pulled out the orange juice and a wrapped bowl of salad. She moved stiffly toward me again and dropped both on the books that I reached out to try to protect. “They will not wither but you already are. Sit and eat.” She turned back to the fridge and pulled out more items I couldn’t see. “I said sit.”

I dropped into the chair at the command laced in her voice. “Geez, Jess…”

“Eat.” She sighed, “please.” The fridge shut and she moved to the stove, pulled out a pan as I pulled the wrapping off the bowl of salad without taking my eyes off her. As if she felt my gaze still on her, she paused then took a deep breath and released every muscle in a smooth show of will, a wave of relaxation down her taut body. “You need to get out of your head, I think I’m going to truly lose it if you keep digging further into this hole.”

I snapped my gaze to the bowl, picked up the fork I didn’t even notice was there before, and stabbed into the greens before shoving them in my mouth. “I don’t know…”

She growled and I twisted toward her. She actually growled. She turned slowly and stared at me, things flashing across her face too fast but the fear, grief, and rage flared in my chest before disappearing under a blanket. She had gotten so strong during her months with Pamela and Bobby. “Have you even looked in a mirror recently? The dark circles under your eyes? The fatigue? If Dean were here, he’d probably be able to coax you out of it but I don’t know how! I’ve tried the easy way but you… it’s like you don’t even hear me! You’re draining yourself. Obsessing over that stupid prophecy, you’re jerking awake in the middle of the night from things you won’t mention, that you brush off as nothing.”

Maybe more than once a week, but those were the ones that felt real.

She frowned and waved her hand as I tried to interrupt, “don’t tell me you’re not, I’ve been here, present while you hide in those books.” She turned and pulled a knife from the block on the counter and dumped the chicken tenderloins on the cutting board. She started chopping, “I see the way your muscles tense and never release, the jumpiness, the goddamn weight on your shoulders even when you’re not reading. I know what you’re focusing on. You’re taking on so much that you had no control over!” The knife hit the counter with a snap and she turned, “admit it, you are obsessing so damn much about things that you’re not looking around you, you’re not present!” Her voice wobbled, her eyes misting, “you’re killing yourself and I can’t stand by and watch anymore. I may not have the magic to save you yet, but I can drag your ass out of this house with my own two hands.”

I stared at her, my mind completely blank for the first time in weeks. She spun around and threw the chicken in the pan that immediately sizzled. “I…” I cleared my throat and tried again, “I didn’t mean… shit.” I closed my eyes and felt for Dean’s hum, curling myself around it for some stable ground. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Neither do they but they’re out doing something. I think we should to. We can find cases, you could show me the ropes, anything to get out of this house that is becoming a tomb for you.”

I mulled it over as the kitchen filled with an aroma that made my mouth water. “A few easy cases, get some air, maybe stumble on something out there?”

“I was thinking… maybe we could track the gun. Pamela used a spell to check up on you. Maybe we could rig it to track the gun?” Her focus still on the pan in front of her and the ingredients she pulled from the cabinets. She worked as she meandered through her thoughts, “but… I don't know how we’d get something of the gun. She used her connection with you as a focus.”

I didn’t want to throw away her idea but the thought of the demon somehow finding out we were looking, about a possible visit in my dreams giving him something. I sighed, trying not to seem too invested, “the demon would never let us…”

“It’s better than sitting around here. You’re driving yourself insane between the guilt and fear and really how different is it than what the boys are doing? We’re all just chasing the wind but at least they’re doing something to occupy themselves. You were the one that told me you couldn’t focus on an unknown or you’d just go insane. So, let’s go shake a few trees, it’d be better than sitting around here waiting to crack. I can’t watch you… like this anymore.” She snapped the stove off, lifted the pan and dumped the chicken onto a plate, pouring the remaining sauce over it.

“Okay.”

Her head snapped up and she looked at me, “okay? We’ll go or track the gun?”

“Maybe both? But definitely hit the road. You frighten me, I’d like to see that directed out in the field at anything instead of me.” I managed a small smile even though a tiny part of me was terrified, but I had always wanted to hunt with her one day.

She grinned and brought the plate over to the table. I was able to move the books before she placed it down and then grabbed another fork and two glasses. She sat at the table and nudged the plate toward me. “You better eat most of this, seriously, you’ve missed two meals already. And no, those granola bars don’t count.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I stabbed a seasoned chunk of chicken that looked delicious and smelled even better, “you and Sam were just made for each other.”

“Well, I can’t let his cheerleader waste away and I don’t even want to think how Dean would react.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed, “thank you for kicking my ass verbally instead of dragging me out of the house.”

She winked, “I can’t make that promise. It fully rests on you.”

~~

My bag was finally packed and I heaved myself on to the bed. Tomorrow morning we would leave and I’d finally have something else to focus on, some actual work to keep my hands and mind busy.

Falling into bed exhausted had been the plan for a week now and so far it seemed to be working. I grabbed the second pillow and held it against my chest. I closed my eyes and focused on the hum. “I miss you,” I whispered into the pillow.

It wasn’t even close to the truth. There wasn’t a word to describe the need, the yearning, the bone-deep pain that had lingered for weeks now. Something I couldn’t say out loud and just make the whole situation worse.

Every phone call only lessened it a bit. I could hear it in his voice, both what Sam had told me about and what I felt. John’s death was eating away at him, our distance didn’t help matters, and he was trying his best to deal with Sam’s feelings while also working through his own. And I couldn’t do a damn thing for either of them.

My phone vibrated on the nightstand and I reached out grabbing for it blindly. I finally got it and flicked it open as I brought it to my ear, “ello?”

“Hey sweetheart, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

I smiled, “just thinking about how much I miss you in my bed. This bed partner is just not cutting it in the satisfaction department.”

“What partner?”

“A very nice body pillow. Not quite as stiff as I like maybe.”

A warmth unfurled in my chest as his laughter made my skin tingle. “Hmm… you holding that pillow tight in your little underwear and tank top?”

“I still have my shorts and shirt on, sorry.”

“Mmm, that’s alright, I know how much you love the anticipation.”

I chuckled even though just the way he said it caused my body to react. “Damnit, too far.”

“I wish I was there too.”

“I know.”

“Any more feelings slipping through?”

I sighed, snuggling into the pillow more, “a few. Mainly anger though, or at least shades of it. I wish I knew how to help.”

We fell into silence and I pressed the phone tighter to my ear and listened to his breathing, pretending he was with me. A few minutes went by and I whispered, “Jess and I are leaving tomorrow. An easy case in Wyoming.”

“That’s good, get your hands busy.”

“Stop it.”

He chuckled, “what? That’s what you said to me the other night. Not my fault your head’s in the gutter. Of course, there was that other night...”

I barked out a laugh then sighed, “truth, give me the deep down dark of it.”

“I can’t stop thinking of where he is. That he’s there because of me. And that if he wasn’t there, you’d be...”

“He’s there because of the demon. He made a choice just like you were making a choice not to go because of me.”

“I know. I’d make a pretty shitty ghost. I’d be worse than that pillow that’s for sure and then our relationship would really go down the gutter.”

“I know it’s harder out there and I know this whole thing is just…” I blew out a breath looking for the right word.

“A giant clusterfuck of shit?”

“And I feel like the cause of it but I know I’m not. Why did it all have to blow up at the worst time? Why does it feel like the universe is just fucking with us on purpose?”

“Because we’re a good fuck?” I snorted and he laughed, “got ya.”

“I just… wish that one day we could… just be us and do something stupid like go on a double date. I’m not even being picky, a bar would be fine, you know? Just us and music, and a good time without… all the bullshit.”

“It’s a nice wish. I like it. And then Sam and Jess get their own way home and we get in baby and have some good old time fun.”

I groaned and warmth pooled in my chest before spreading outward. Tears sprung to my eyes as his joy caressed across my shoulders and down my arms. “That’s a neat trick.”

“What?”

“I felt that, your joy at the thought.”

“Oh, sweetheart that was more than joy.”

“Hmm, I see. Didn’t have the same effect over the distance.”

“I guess we’re just going have to work towards it, huh?”

Twenty Six

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