#COME ON THE DYNAMIC OF THE ONE GUY WHO WAS ABLE TO PUSH SANDY TO THE BRINK AND SANDY DECIDING HE WAS STILL ABLE TO CHANGE???

[redysetdare]

Still thinking abt how huntsman never got a satisfying ending. Like ik a writer on the show said he did and that his whole arc was wrapped up in his decision to not leave but like... idk it did NOT seem like that AT ALL in the show.

Like when we see him looking at the tea bag???? that's supposed to be read as him deciding not to leave and THAT was our closure??? You gotta be fucking joking right???

Idk what i thought that scene was doing (and seems like a lot of ppl thought it was doing as well because someone had to actually ASK A WRITER ABOUT IT) was that him looking at the teabag was a jumping off point for a redemption arc. He had STARTED asking questions. He didn't show signs of being okay with the answers he got. It felt like a set up for MORE and then we just...didn't get it and we're supposed to just accept that?

And i get it. I get that not everything works out. sometimes shit goes wrong and not every character gets a happy ending...but then why even set up the possibility in the first place? we got ONE episode with him being like that and thennnn nothing? like usually this sort of thing is supposed to feel like a wrapped up arc y'know? cutting it short like this usually is never good unless you want ppl to be mad that a characters arc was cut short.

It just feels like the show didn't have enough episodes to explore everything they were setting up. It feels like if maybe there was more episodes we would've seen more of huntsman questioning everything that was happening and maybe even getting a redemption arc. But we'll never know because monkie kid is stuck to 10 episodes a season fsr and it kinda sucks that things just get dropped and never explored.

[laal-ishq-diaries]

black and white || satoru gojo

january 1, 2021

synopsis: in which strange feelings arise as the man you despise brings a date to your hangout spot and you do the very mature thing: serenade him. 1.5k words.

writer’s note: i've only watched like 6 episodes of jjk so i don't even know if my characterization of anyone is on point but i'm obsessed with this idea. the song that inspired this fic was “black and white” by nasty c and ari lennox (which i do not own). enjoy and pls leave some feedback. btw happy new year!!

warnings: allusions to sex. nothing strong but proceed with caution. swearing. alcohol usage. pettiness. 

you fucking hate him. you hate his stupid face and his stupid arrogance. who the fuck does satoru gojo think he is? people think your hatred of him is misplaced because he’s apparently “nice” and “civil” to you but it’s all for show! he is so rude and patronizing and petty. like tonight. when he brought a date to unofficial weekly drinks with colleagues. 

“well, why are you so mad he brought a date?” muses shoko, tapping her fingers on your shared wooden table.

“i’m not mad he brought a date, i’m mad that he’s flaunting her around,” you clarify, arms flailing and gesticulating wildly.

“flaunting? god, he hasn’t even introduced her to us.” “yet,” you seeth.

“well are you going to say anything to him?”

you shoot her an affronted look. “no. why would i?” shoko rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. “you’re clueless,” she mutters. “excuse m—” “oh look, they're coming.” fuck.

through the dim, yet warm, lights of the bar, you see gojo walking over, arm in arm, with a relatively pretty woman clad in a short black dress. sandy brown hair, tucked behind her ears, cascade down her back and black heels accentuate her long legs. however, your eyes were drinking in the shaman dressed in a tucked in button-up (with the first few buttons unbuttoned, of course), casual black pants, and tan moccasins. his hair was let down from it’s usual gravity-defying updo and dark, round sunglasses replaced the blindfold.

“hey guys, this is sana,” gojo introduces. the aforementioned woman waves and smiles. you could feel shoko’s eyes on you, screaming be nice so you mutter out a greeting and introduction before she, begrudgingly, takes over socializing. 

you silently nurse your drink as your glare resumes. gojo, noting your expression, raises an eyebrow and questions, “what’s that look for?” 

taking a sip of your drink, you shoot back a fake smile and a “nothing. just wondering how your atrocious personality ensnared her.”

he lightly laughs and responds, “you know, lots of women find me attractive.” 

you lean in and whisper into his ear, “physical attractiveness doesn’t cancel out skyscraper levels of entitlement.”

“no, it just gets me a hot date. you wouldn’t be jealous, would you [nickname]?” gojo asks in mock concern. his index finger traverses your cheek before you knock his hand away and sneer, “go fuck yourself.” he exclaims, “don’t need to!” and then grabs sana’s hand and bids farewell to shoko.

“now that,” you point to their retreating bodies, “was flaunting.”  

“you’re paranoid,” she drawls.

“no, i’m fucking not,” you shoot back. “and frankly, i am offended you would think that!” 

“you’re always offended, [name]. especially when it comes to satoru.” you open your mouth to defend yourself but she raises an index finger to your lips and continues, “we’re here to relax. get another drink and watch the performance in peace.” shoko gestures to the stage where the same (surprisingly talented) guy has been singing for the past fifteen minutes, courtesy of the bar’s “Karaoke Night” every Friday. caught up with your inner thoughts, you failed to notice that she was still scolding you.

“… and i’d probably respect you more if you actually did something to prove your point rather than dish out petty insults.” silence dawns upon you two as shoko challenges you. that is, until widespread applause interrupts your interaction and reveals that the karaoke guy (named aki, apparently) finished performing another song. a surge of courage overcomes you, and you abruptly stand up and slam your hands onto the wooden table. “fine, you want me to do something?” shoko makes a noise of confirmation. “watch.”

you lose the leather jacket to reveal a sleeveless, flowy burgundy top and lace up your combat boots before marching towards the stage. truth be told, you didn’t know why you wanted to do this. and you didn’t know what you had to prove. but the whiskey in your blood and the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach whenever you saw gojo with his arms around his date pushes you onto the stage.

from across the bar, gojo sees you whisper something into aki’s ear before he announces, “alright, [name] will be joining me for the next song, which is”—he pauses as you whisper something else into his ear—“a surprise!” the applause and cheers drown out sana’s inquiries towards gojo of whether you were a good singer. not that he’d be able to respond, anyways, considering that his brain was swarmed with thoughts of why you were singing in the first place and how fucking hot you look.

up on the stage, aki asks, “is this your first time singing here.” “yeah,” you breathe out. “are you nervous?” one glance back to gojo, and then to shoko who gave whatever she could muster into an encouraging smile, you mutter “i need a drink after this.”

the music starts and your partner sings:

“… let me in your temple

show me what you into

it could be so simple

black and white, yeah …”

your right foot taps in tune with the beat against the floor in front of the microphone as you patiently awaited the female part. you mentally prep for both singing in front of everyone while being half-drunk and how ruined everything would be if this made things awkward with gojo. while the two of you may be at each other’s throats, at least it was smooth dynamic. if he found this uncomfortable, there goes your personal and professional life.

before you can contemplate running out of the bar, ari lennox’s part begins and you sing the chorus, along with aki. you mentally thank the bar patrons who lightly cheered, as if they could sense your apprehension. your solo verse soon begins and you look to aki for a boost of confidence before belting out:

“so call me, baby

'cause you be putting it down on me”

the adrenaline pumping through your veins emboldens you to make direct eye contact with gojo and run your left hand through your hair seductively while continuing with:

“in my bed, on your stairs

when we loving you know we don't care”

across the room, gojo’s eyebrows shoot up; he wasn’t expecting your lyrics to be directed to him. for all the resentment you throw in his direction, he assumed you despised him. a small part of him gathered that you possibly might have feelings for him but he thought they were repressed, at best. seeing you up on stage declaring that, at the very least, you lust for him makes gojo want to take you, right then and there.

on your side, there’s an inkling of doubt that you went too far, until you see him lick his lips and smirk. your expression mirrors his for a moment until you increase the seduction.

“all mine, like wine

say ain't no bitch that got your heart pumpin' like i

fall in love deeply when i look in your eye

fantasy the way you carry me, mariah …”

whistles and cheers from the audience nearly drown out the last line. confidence oozes out of your stage presence and want for gojo oozes out of your every pore, a want that is reciprocal. you see sana go red in the face (most likely because her own date is eye-fucking you). a small part of you feels awful for her but an even larger part feels victorious because, fuck, despite never getting along with him, the two of you have an unbreakable connection. the thought of another woman getting the time and attention he devotes to this connection, to you, drives you insane. god, it makes you want to rip that button-up off and stake your claim all over him.    

the rest of your performance continues with relative ease. once finished, you and aki say your goodbyes and compliments to each other (with him insisting that you have to sing with him again and you responding with a “some other time”) as you depart back to your table. locking eyes with shoko, you receive a look of approval and a nod towards the direction of a certain jujutsu sorcerer approaching you.

“nice singing,” gojo calls out.  

taking a moment to recover from your adrenaline rush, you exhale a simple “thanks.”

“although,” he drawls, “you didn’t need to get up on stage and sing it. you could've just told me that you wanted me.”

“i don't know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning ignorance.

“oh really?” his fingers gently take hold of your chin and, in spite of his sunglasses, you know that his eyes are staring at your lips. “because i could make it worth your time”

“where’s your date?”

“she left. something about other women who are in love with me being ‘rude’ and ‘offensive.’”

“good,” you whisper, standing on your toes, “because you’re all mine.”

“am i?”—he leans down so your lips now hover over each other’s.

“want me to prove it?”

“let’s get out of here.”

[j10kkuno]

Okay, stop getting distracted Bre. Make the WIP Wednesday post(Proceeds to get distracted but in my defense, this stream was crazy)

Now that Yuno's in prison and making slushies and finding lockpicks I can focus on this post. So this is just something I've been working on. Idk when but at some point I started shipping Garry and Yuno and I'm a sucker for those forbidden romances and they're both interesting because neither are like super hard on their side, they're friendly to people on both sides so that's interesting to play around with and while I think Yuno has more of an emotional attachment to his side, it's interesting to think about the blurring of all those lines and who they are away from those lines and sides they chose that won't let them be together freely.

But yeah, right now I'm kinda just exploring those dynamic in different scenarios. Also a good way to explore the written world. Like figuring out driving distances(For example, Rooster's Rest to Sandy Shores is like 5 minutes in game but 45 minutes in this written world just because the map just seems larger...). This one is just exploring their first kissing/getting alone time together for the first time/etc. The moment where six months of tension snaps, kinda.

This is in the middle of the story. The lead up is this is about a year after Yuno moves to Los Santos, maybe like 6 months after this week in streams. But Idk if tonight's stream happens in verse. Yuno was robbing houses with Ash and 4T and Garry was chasing them and somehow, they ended up in the parking lot of the Sandy Shores motel(Not abandoned). They went back and forth until Yuno kissed Garry.

Garry pushed him away, then whispered that cameras are everywhere and they can't be spotted kissing because if anyone saw them together, they'd be fucked and they make plans to meet back there in a couple days, Garry would text a room number and time for Yuno to sneak in. And that's where this picks up. Awkward pick up spot but I like this part. It's rare I'm comfortable writing banter but I loved this.

Wednesday went so slowly. He was alone in his apartment when a text came in at 5:58.

From: Gare Bear

237, 10pm, knock four times

A surge of excitement hit him. Four hours. He’d have to leave work at around 9:15, and he sent the manager on duty a quick text saying he’d have to leave early to help Ray with a business meeting(Typically code for crime, and Ray did have a business meeting later today, just a meeting with some members or associates of the Chang Gang so it wasn’t eyebrow raising) so it was all cool). Leyla was on shift that night, and laughed at how he just wanted time to speed up. Finally, the clock hit 9:10 and he went to clock out and change and then he was free.

He parked near the stairs up to the second level and he took them upstairs and found room 237. He knocked four times in a pattern he had come up with while bored at work, one, then the last three in quick succession. The door opened a moment later, Garry chuckling.

“Nice pattern,” He said and Yuno laughed as he slipped in. He didn’t bother looking at the room, it was the same shitty motel room he had stayed in a few times before after heists. The real view was the man in front him in a blue t-shirt and black jeans, looking refreshingly normal and Yuno felt a surge of want.

“I was bored at work tonight so I was trying out four knock patterns to surprise a certain someone,” He said, walking into the room further.

“That doesn’t sound like you were being a very good employee if you were bored and distracted at your job,” Garry said and crossed over to stand in front of Yuno and reached up to touch his helmet.

“They’re lucky I showed up even. I was fired four times for not showing up before I impressed Lang enough to secure a permanent position,” Yuno said. Garry laughed.

“That’s... Not at all a surprise. How did you do that?” He asked.

“I... Shouldn’t say,” Yuno said, but he wanted to. Wanted to impress Garry the same way he impressed everyone else, but he wanted it to impress him in a different way. “I love your shirt. The blue looks so good on you, brings out your eyes.”

“Can you tell through your helmet though? Maybe you should take it off,” Garry said and Yuno smiled.

“Most people want me to put it on as soon as I take it off,” He said.

“I didn’t insist on that Sunday night,” Garry reminded.

“I guess not, just...” Yuno trailed off.

“I didn’t want to. You know I didn’t,” Garry said, dropping his humor, “It killed me to push you away. I fully planned on kissing you the second I got the door closed behind you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Yuno said.

“Because you were being funny and cute and that’s why I’m endlessly fond of you,” Garry said and Yuno gave in and took off his helmet, giggling.

“Endlessly fond,” He said in between giggles, going to put it on top of the dresser below the TV.

“Second drawer on the left is my off duty gun and badge. Just so you can check. I promise that’s the only weapon I have on me. No wires, no bugs, my phone is turned off, you can check it in the drawer. It’s just us,” Garry said and the mood turned serious. Yuno opened the drawer, saw the gun, badge, phone, and a wallet. He checked the phone, it was off. He wouldn’t have even thought of the room possibly being bugged.

For all either of them knew, Yuno realized staring at his face in the black screen, this was all some drawn out seduction mission to draw secrets out of the other.

But it wasn’t, he knew. His feelings were real, and against all rationality, his gut trusted Garry. This was real. He slipped his gun out of the back of his waistband, put it in the second drawer on the right. Lockpick. He hesitated and then decided to be safe and send Wolfe a ping, with a message, if you don’t hear from me within 18 hours. Do NOT tell anyone about this otherwise. Then, he turned his phone off.

“Anything else illegal?” Garry teased gently.

“I emptied out most of the illegal stuff before work as I had plans,” Yuno said. He walked back over to Garry, closer than he had been before. It felt closer than he had ever been, with Garry in just a t-shirt and Yuno without his helmet, their guards down, able to flirt and banter without worrying about anyone else seeing.

“That’s right. You were distracted at work. Why? Did you have a hot date in a motel bed waiting for you?” Garry asked, smirking.

“I apparently did. The hottest date I’ve ever had before,” Yuno said, “And when I showed up, he was hotter than ever before.”

“Mmhm, you are quite the lucky man, Yuno Sykk. But not even the luckiest in the room, I do believe,” Garry said and drew closer, leaned down a bit. Yuno rolled his eyes.

“Flirt,” He said, but the breathlessness gave away the effect of having Garry so close.

“Not for that. Been wanting this for so long,” Garry said softly.

“Garry,” Yuno breathed, unable to think of any more banter, any more jokes, why they hadn’t done this so long ago. All of it faded away except for the bare bones of their feelings.

“I know,” Garry said and then, then they were kissing. Really, truly kissing. Yuno thought of his life pre-Los Santos as his old life. He had dated girls to please his parents, and dated guys while away at college, feeling like he was failing at both. This felt nothing like any of that.

[spirit-of-vengeance]

7th ROTG anniversary. Time to get emotional.

I never written this down, but now I feel the need due to the intense nostalgia and the notice of how quickly time is fleeing. I have a tale to tell, I need to share my story about how this film changed my life. Warning: it's long.

Brief into: I believed in the Santa, Easter Bunny (I really wanted in the Toothfairy too and unfortunately never heard about Jack or Sandy) even when I was 10. (Which was considered pretty old to believe) I even got into an argument with my teacher in the 3rd grade because she said 'stop being childish, they aren't real' because I was excitedly whispering with my classmate about catching the Santa this year. A boy, who ironically looked exactly like Jack Frost began endlessly teasing me and calling me stupid for still thinking he's real. On the way back home with mom I confronted her about this, not giving up until she told me whenever he was right or not. Backed into a corner, she was forced to give up. I cried every day for weeks. The magic was ripped away from me.

Year 2012, December. I'm 11 and a victim of hardcore bullying since my whole life. Students, teachers and sometimes parents. To cheer me up, mom took me to the shopping center to watch a movie. We couldn't really decide & she saw a giant poster of North smiling at people. Her eyes lit up and excitedly said 'Let's watch that! ' I followed the direction of her finger and my face scrunched in malice "I am not watching a movie with the Santa. Its stupid. I'm a big girl, I want to watch a bloody action movie! " but she was unbending. She could bribe me into it with a large bowl of popcorn; I was still grumbling when the lights went out.

The change: first snowflakes, first notes of the piano worked like magic. I immediately shut up and wondered what actually happens here. Why is it so soothing? At the first few shots of the North Pole when North is working on the ice train, I jumped in my seat and I shit you not, I thought the Santa is actually getting murdered. My eyebrow rose higher when I realized that guy with the chainsaw and swords is the Santa. Unfortunately, I can't remember more first reactions; stress, depression, traumas really ruined my long term memory. It seems silly now, but I kept the last piece of popcorn what I was munching on during it, I still have it in a little jewel box; one of my sacred memories. The car ride back to home was quiet, I was staring out of the window my mind stirring with creativity.

Aftermath: 2013-2018; while my classmates were busy getting drunk, being a petty bitch, giving oral in the toilet, (yes. I am talking about elementary school.), getting laid, I was lost in a world of wonder. I learnt 60% of my English knowledge in 3 months with reading fanfiction. I browsed deviantart for hours and laughed my ass off at the hilarious, extremely well done fanarts.

I grew up on mostly Blackice videos I wasn't 100% aware what I'm actually seeing tho, I was exposed to gay ships from a young age and plot twist, nothing serious happened😀. My mental health wasn't shit because I saw the Bogeyman and the Winter spirit kiss.

I began talking to the Moon. I cried my pain to him. Sitting on my windowstill, debating whenever I should jump or not. My extraordinarily strong bond with my mom and this film were my only lifeline. I was making it through, in my own world. My imagination created wonderful sights, scenarios; at nights I was certain I can spot Sandy on his cloud, at Christmas North trying to push himself out of the chimney cussing, at Easter that enormous bunny running around, at winters mostly yelling at Jack 'get out of my country' because I'm a summer person, going to school on a chilly yet sunny autumn day and see Pitch standing on the edge of the misty forest.

I began to change, respond to the pressure from my bullies. My personality began to morph. See the wonder in everything; like North. There's hope and spite, don't dare to give up; like Bunny. Awaken and enjoy creativity; like Sandy. Shit on the rules and have a damn good time no matter what; like Jack. Cherish memories and friends; like Tooth. Be ruthless and stand up from the most brutal blows; like Pitch. And never forget, the Moon will always be there even when he's an antisocial dick and says nothing.

My aim, my dream was to write the sequel. When I was done I wanted to send it to William Joyce. I wrote 200+ pages, but unfortunately in Hungarian. I still don't know why I stopped, why I abandoned that plan.

I was looking for ROTG posters because I wanted to email them to my friend to show what I've been obsessed with. I was just lazily staring at a Pitch poster, realizing his V neck actually never closes - then my eyes crossed the date: November 21. I let out an ungodly shriek of disbelief and mirth. Mom rushed into the living room with terror and met with the sight of me screaming in ecstasy "RISE OF THE GUARDIANS CAME OUT ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!! "

Around 2016 I became really interested in this roleplay stuff and oh god I was terrible. Cindy Flame then was an always angry Mary sue but after years of practice, expanding she is a completely built, extremely complex character, flawed, strong, tragic and ruthless; divine yet oh so human. So I was making friends online, most of them failed, I think one of them committed suicide but that belongs to an another story.

I have been lurking Tumblr for 3 years? More? Because I had no idea how this site worked and I was shy because I thought my writing is not good enough I realize now I felt right. I admired blogs from afar, read their writing and falling deeper and deeper into this fandom.

Nearing present day: I actually came to Tumblr to pursue a friend of mine. I was borderline desperate because I've thought they are one of the last one in the fandom and it scared me. The fun thing is, I actually never interacted with them after making this blog. So I break this two year old spell and hi @kingofnxghtmares it's me, Jasmine😊 You don't have to answer/interact/or anything, I wanted to get everything off my chest and finally tagging you just felt right.

So now I'm on Tumblr. And I love every second it. I've found amazing friends, insanely dynamic muses, crack threads, angst, the chance to expand my muse even more and where I belong. So there I am, wondering where 7 years went. I've grown up (somewhat), and I'm glad I was protected from the 'disaster teenage years ', drinking, heartbreak, drugs, etc instead I grew up in a magical world interviewed with reality so closely; it became an escape place when reality became too heavy.

About ROTG & finale: masterpiece. The animation is insanely lifelike yet fantasy. Every tiny, microscopic detail is perfect, the characters, the storyline, the atmosphere original and capturing. The music is gut wrenching. Everything is absolutely, 200% on point. I don't think there ever will be an animated movie which can be better than Rise of the Guardians animation and/or storywise. No 'love is the answer ' movies can ever come close this iconic masterpiece no matter how they rip it off looking at Frozen 2😒

I watched it today (I have it in Spanish as well and I only can encourage everyone to watch it, the Spanish voice acting is, 100% in my opinion Pitch's bested Jude Law, damn that rich hiss of malice was incredible ) on my 18th birthday while cuddling with mom, laughing and heavy with nostalgia. I think I will remain in this fandom for a very long time, I don't think I would ever be able to let it go due to my deep emotional ties. I would like to thank everyone who were present in making this film, the artists who still keep this fandom alive, all of my friends, roleplay partners; thank you for brightening my childhood, giving me purpose and a place to belong.

To my all of my friends:

@paintbrushtheelf @muerte-rojo @nightmarinqs @mr-mansnoozie @gatekeeperoftheunderworld @50shadesofpitchblack @flossinspector @magicmiyeh

@black-equals-mysoul @nxghtlight @lindzem

I love all of you,

Jasmine

[spnbaby-67]

A Love Worth Fight For

A/N:  Here is part 2, let me know how you are liking it so far, and if there is anything you want to see in future chapters, let me know. Keep in mind I don’t have a beta and I apologize for that. Please no hate on the wives I love them just the same, and don’t copy and paste on other sites without my permission. Thank you so much for the amazing responses so far. you are all awesome. 

Pairing Jensen and Samantha OFC, Cliff, other bodyguards. 

Chapter One

Chapter 2, 

I bet  your wondering why I am sitting on the floor, right? Like why didn't I just leave the hotel all together?  Well, you try dodging five or more big guys that stood  6'2" with muscles that could RIP you apart and make it look clean. Go ahead, try.  I'll sit right here while you do that. It's not easy, especially when they have your face plastered in their brains trains to kill.  Besides, my head is thinking they have every exit surrounded somehow just waiting for me to try and escape. Not so easy.

What's that saying? Shoot now and ask questions later? I'm not all about that, but damn let me tell you, you may not see Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki's full bodyguards close by, until there's a reason for them. I swear they are all huge, from the quick look I saw of them. Heck, they  maybe even taller than Jared, I dunno, but I know one thing, I gotta get out of here. But my body is so exhausted from running and hiding till I am about to admit defeat, and take the punishment regardless if I did it or not. 

You see that night I told you about, when I went to get ice cream, I ended up in jail. Because of the priors I had regardless if they were filed or not, the judge didn't care, and gave me three years in women correctional home. I had to wear an ankle bracelet at all times, and everywhere I went I had to have someone follow me to make sure I didn't leave the premises without written consent and with someone.  Sarah, my lovely so called friend had slipped a plan b into my purse apparently when I wasn't paying attention. That triggered the alarm when I was walking out, so therefore the cops came and this time a shop owner pressed charges.  See what I mean by being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Teach me to help someone again.  

Anyways, brings us back to today. I am a huge fan of the TV show called Supernatural. I discovered the show when I was in jail, and was bored one night flipping through the channels.  It was my turn to control the remote for an hour and it landed on the CW. The episode they were showing that night was Lazarus Rising.  I was captivated on a pair of green eyes that shook my core the moment I saw him escape from hell.  His hand reaching from under the ground upwards to the sky, sent chills down my spine.  I had to see who it belonged to and my heart thudded big time when I saw the handsome hunter he came to be.  Oh my gosh, the raspy sound of his voice when he tried to talk was just wow.  But ultimately I just love the dynamic of the brothers fighting the monsters and saving people and even themselves at times.  I am a big fan of Jensen and Jared, but more so Jensen.  Only because I can relate to Dean's life in a way that I feel we would hit it off if I was to ever step foot in the supernatural world.  Don't get me wrong, Jared is my heart, he saved my life a few times while I was in jail, in fact, they both did, but i will spare you the drama for now.  

After I had gotten out of jail a year ago, I had to start over. I had nothing to my name, not even the clothes on my back, they gave me those as a way of saying sorry for wrongly accusing you.  More on that later.   But my first thought was that I needed a job, and who in their right mind would hire anyone with a criminal record?  No one, well maybe Mel's diner.  And he only did that because he always pinched my ass every time he walked by me or I by him. Bleh, just thinking about that I get the Willie's, Anyways, I worked there for a year and saved up all my cash tips and managed to get into a nice apartment in walking distance to downtown Houston. All was going great, my life turned around and I even had a few friends, well I thought they were.  Let's say I know how to pick em. But it be honest, I don't know how she would turn out to be until today.  

You see, Jessie, had a wild idea to come to Nashville to volunteer to work at a supernatural convention.  I thought she was crazy,  I mean who would let people volunteer to work at a convention with huge stars like Jared and Jensen?  You gotta be crazy to do that, well apparently I was wrong, and Jessie made it so easy for me to say yes.  I am not one to question my chance meeting my one and only heart eyes of a man, but if I knew now what I knew then, I'd say no. Don't worry,  I'm getting there as to why I am sitting here on the floor.  I'm building up the excitement for you.  

I was able to score a couple of solo ops with both Jared and Jensen for that Sunday and Jessie was able to get us a duo op.   I was extremely excited and very nervous, because my anxiety was beginning to get the best of me the closer I stood to him.  He is just so beautiful, sandy blonde hair spiked to perfection, he wore ripped knee jeans and a black short sleeved shirt that hugged his body in all the right places. He had a red and black flannel on, and boots that looked worn but were comfortable. I wanted to die when we walked into the room together for our duo.  She let me hug Jensen, and we had an idea that he and Jared would stand behind us and hug us from behind then we would hold the others hand. 

Well, it turned out that Jensen had his own idea, he placed one arm around my waist and the other around my upper chest and slightly turned me like he was going to dip me. I ended up caught off guard, and my expression was real. I think that's what made the op be amazing is that it wasn't fake or planned out. Gotta love those guys for the way they take directions. I laughed back at the moment, actually it was a way to keep me from totally freaking out. I remember hearing Jensen say to me that I was beautiful and he wanted to see how our op turned out during autographs, which unfortunately never happened. You see, somehow Jessie the ever so chilled out chick, decided to pickpocket his wallet. Somewhere as we were walking out to now, I still have no idea how she did it and I didn’t even know until three gorillas came to us. 

I swear to god, I am never trusting anyone again, ever. If it's the last freaking thing I do in this world, I will never trust another soul. I always end up being the one who either gets hurt, or the one in trouble as in this case. Cliff Closterman, the boys main bodyguard came at us as we were exiting the room. 

Flashback

“That was so fucking amazing Jessie, I can’t wait to see what that is going to turn out.” I told her as i was still on cloud nine. My head was floating as we gathered our stuff that I didn’t hear the commotion behind me. 

“Yeah, that was. Now come on let’s go.” She retorted as she pushed me out the door. 

“What is wrong with you? Your acting like you did something wrong, Jess.” I stopped and turned to look at her. “What the hell did you do?” Just the look on her face proved it. 

“Nothing, just, let’s go.” She looked back at the room the boys were in and then back towards me with a scream or yelp, I dunno. I do know we were faced with Cliff. 

Now if you have not ever had an altercation with Cliff, I absolutely advise you not to do it. He is so super scary when he crosses his arms across his chest and his face means business. I felt ten inches smaller than him as he stood before us. “H-Hi?” I tread with caution, “c can I do anything for you?”

“No, but you can follow me. Both of you.” He grabbed both of our arms one on each side and walked us back into another room separate from where we were before.” 

I tried my best to wiggle free, but damn he had a hold on my wrist so tight that I knew it would bruise later. I kept looking over behind his back at Jess who kept whispering “what the hell did I do?” 

 “I do? I didn’t do shit,” I kept telling her. “Fuck,” I said under my breath, I know how this is going to fucking end for me.” I suddenly had a feeling something terrible was going to happen. 

We get to a room and Cliff pushes us into it and shuts the door behind him and stands there like a big muscled man that dared you to move or try to escape, my heart was pounding and my body was hot on the inside, it was getting to the point I couldn’t breath. Moments later, the other door opened and two other big guys like Cliff came in and walked over to us. 

“Open your bag please.” One said so sternly and with demand to his voice. 

“Why do I have to open my bag? I didn’t do anything.” I tried to sound cool, but I don’t think that helped.

“Either we can do this here, nice and quietly. Or, we can go downtown and do it there not so quiet. Either or, it’s up to you. Now, open your bag.” His voice rose an octave or two, making my knees knock with nerves. 

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes as I put my bag on the table, unzipped it to let them look at whatever is supposed to be in there. “HOLY FUCK!” I said out loud as I saw it. How the fuck did Jensen’s wallet get in my bag? My mouth dropped and my breathing picked up considerably as I stood there feeling like I was about to be sick. 

“Sam? What the hell did you do?” Jess thought she’d play the innocent child card like she had no clue what was going on while she tried to get a look. 

“I-I-I-I di didn’t do anything, honestly.” My voice trembled as tears began to form in my eyes, I could feel them pricking, teasing me as they built up. My heartbeat also picked up a few notches as well,  so much that I had to sit down or I was going to faint.  

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s Jensen’s wallet” Cliff the guard from earlier came over to look in my bag to verify it was Jensen's. 

Suddenly, I felt two strong hands on each side of my shoulders lifting me from my chair, I tried to beg with them telling them it wasn’t me, that I didn’t do that. But thanks to Jessie, she sweet talked her way out of it and they let her go because they didn’t have any evidence on her to prove she did it. She got to leave, but not me. They took me to another room with only one door this time, and I was alone in this room with three big guys trying to find my escape. Eventually, I gave up trying to find a way out. I knew they went to go find Jensen, tell him they found the person who took his wallet, and he was going to have them lock me up. I just knew this. 

Thoughts after thoughts ran through my head the longer I had to wait, that I hid my face in my hands covering my embarrassment, I didn’t want to face Jensen when he walked in, if he even walked in. My chest sunk in when I heard the door open, I was scared to look up because I knew who it was just by the smell of his amazing cologne. When I did look up, my heart broke and my spirit fell when I saw the look in his eyes. I never wanted to be the one who put sadness in those beautiful eyes, I never wanted to inflict any kind of pain to him. But here I was doing that and then some. My first thought was here I am heading back to jail. 

Jensen walked over to me, then around and behind me. I could feel the tension between us that I was so scared to even move. He then made his way to stand  before me and I dunno if he was trying to be a good cop or bad cop, but my heart beat pounded so hard inside my body that my head felt like it was going to explode. The way he stood before me with his hands spaced flat on the table that separated us, he bent over a bit and looked directly into my eyes.  I knew I was in so much trouble.

"So, your the one who took my wallet?" His stance was lethal as he looked into my eyes. If you ever want to see Dean Winchester come to life in front of you, make Jensen Ackles mad. I swore I saw Dean appear before me. 

"I, I," I tried to speak but my throat felt dry and like it was closing in on me. He stood straight up and placed his hands on his hips, his eyes still baring into mine. I wanted to be sick.  

He cleared his throat, "Look, I don't know why you took it, or what possessed you to do such an act. But, I have to press charges.  I can't let things like this slide.  I will do my best to keep this strictly between us, and out of the public eye to protect your privacy as well." 

I heard him speaking, I really did. But my brain couldn't constitute his actual words after he said press charges,  I let my tears fall and my head take over. I just kept agreeing to what he was saying, I was heading back to jail. I couldn't accept that, I worked too hard to stay out of it, that I had to do something. 

Two guards left, leaving just Jensen, me and Cliff in the room. Cliff moved away from the door to file reports, and Jensen turned his back from me to answer a call.  I knew he was pissed, I mean who in there right mind wouldn't be? I took a deep breath, said a silent prayer on hoped things would work my way. I scanned the room and took another look around, then bolted the room so fast that I left my belongings behind. 

@deans-baby-momma @impalaimagining @grnsorrow

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

7. Bass is heavy a.k.a. useful finger techniques, Dee Dee Ramone’s yelling and helpful octopuses

„Damn, I forgot Sly and Ethel in the van!” she groans and slaps on her forehead.

“No problem, I bring them with the next round.” Scully offers and disappears in the hallway that leads to the backdoor. I have no idea who Sly and Ethel can be but I don’t want to know it either… Now that she’s been left alone she tries to push the carriage trolley with the amps to its place on the stage. With little success. But her fight with the gear twice as heavy as her reminds me of a scene.

“Old woman!” I call her.

“Man!” she corrects me still pressing against the load at full strength. Okay, she passed the test again but that’s not a big deal, Monty Python’s Holy Grail basically became a mainstream movie by now, anybody could quote a few scenes from it. Okay, not everyone, none of my former girlfriends was familiar with absurd humor and neither is Amber. I got her to watch it with me but I gave up the mission and turned off the video recorder when she asked for the third time how much time was left of it. It’s just not for her.

“Okay, Dennis, where’s my cow?” I inquire while I’m helping her win the battle; otherwise hours later, the amps would still stand in the middle of the stage and our crowd would enjoy her hopeless struggle instead of the show.

“Are you deaf? Or just concentration problems?” she asks harshly, avoiding my glance and trying to ignore my intervention but her rush moves uncover the surprise she might feel about it.

“Hey, it’s not easy to talk with you, do you know? I asked you about something, I even emphasized my lack of information using a different tone, in grammar text books you can find the encyclopedic explanation in chapter “Question”.” I draw a question mark with my index finger in the air. “The next communication panel is the so-called “answer” in which you satisfy my need for details…” I gesture the quotation marks too.

“I won’t satisfy you in any way, excuse me…” she cuts me off and even tosses me away a bit as she steps dynamically to the monitor board to plug the cables into it.

“I’m just trying to ask where’s my…” I don’t need to finish the sentence since Scully arrives back with Dave’s stage prop, holding my cow under his arm.

“And I was trying to refer to the fact that we take care of Ethel and Sly.” she nods at the two mascots.

“Ethel?” I blurt out frowning. This chick isn’t sane, she was serious about searching for a name for it… “Since when has she been called Ethel?”

“Actually her name has always been Ethel, you’ve just never asked her about it.” she fixes her glasses with a wiseacre face. “She was quite unhappy, did you know that? I caught her searching for numbers of slaughterhouses in the phonebook as she wanted to volunteer to be a steak ingredient, no wonder knowing you. But when I told her we were traveling to Texas soon she immediately changed her mind. Now she wants to be the spokesperson of the anti-rodeo movement. A little care makes wonders.”

Her fantasy is quite intense, I have to admit.

“So you’re obsessed with stuffed animals?” I ask leaning against my Marshall and watch her wiring the stage with quick moves.

“…asks the guy who keeps one on his amplifier…” she mumbles darting at me for a second and raising one eyebrow. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you supervising me or what? As far as I know I’m an unbearable person who makes the others admire her and uses her family ties…”

Nice attempt but not enough to distract me.

“…and who told, ahem, yelled at me that I should get to know her better, that’s what I’m trying to do right now.” I continue the sentence. “So tell me, Judith, how many stuffed animals do you have exactly? I bet there are a few ones in your bedroom… my first estimation would be somewhere between five and ten.”

“Oh yeah, my bedroom. Damn, you’ve got me… First of all there’s that huge teddy sitting on my bed, how did you figure it out? Then there’s the bunny in the armchair, the cute seal on my desk and my stuffed pony and unicorn collection, I gave up counting them a few years ago. And I have to mention that everything in the room is very pink and very fluffy. Do I meet the profile you created about me?” she bats her eyelashes.

Clever, but not clever enough to drive me to the wall.

“Actually, when I asked you about stuffed animals I was talking about stuffed animals. Like, dead animals which are stuffed. I mean, I could totally imagine a few stuffed bats, snakes and rats hanged on your shelves full of mysterious ingredients for occult purposes. Candles arranged on the points of a huge pentagram, right next to the coffin-shaped bed…”

“You left out the voodoo dolls. I have a bunch of them, the latest one I prepared wears denim pants and a Luv Co shirt tucked into them…” she approaches threatening me with a jack plug and for one second I think she’s about to stick it into my eyeball but in the last moment she changes direction and plugs it into the matching slot of the amp. I acknowledge, she didn’t need much time to know her way around our gear… But come on, even a chimpanzee can be trained how to put different solids into the right holes, she’s on the level of an average lab monkey. “But how come I turned from a nun into a witch in one single day? You’re pretty much inconsistent at insulting, Gossard…”

That makes sense. I open my mouth to cite the witch hunt scene from the mentioned movie but Scully intervenes in our conversation.

“Guys, if you go on like this I’ll claim payrise from Eric…”

“For what? How do you mean it?” she turns in his direction with hands on hips.

“Conflict management bonus.” he shrugs casually. “Seriously, could you just stop for a moment? For just a few seconds, I feel like I was at a fucking dogfight.”

“It was him who started it!” she exclaims outraged pointing at me.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” I play dumb raising my hands in front of me.

“Jesus, you’re hopeless. Forget the stopping part, I just want the money.” Scully shakes his head resigned.

“Money? What money? I don’t know what’s going on here but I want money too.” Smitty enters in the company off Dave, Karrie and Jeff.

“When did everybody get so greedy? Actually, it is you who should pay me for my show, I’m the only one who keeps you entertained in this boring touring life.” I smirk as I begin to tune my orange Les Paul.

“As for me, I prefer boredom by all means.“ she rolls her eyes and begins to flipping through her notebook.

“Hey, Judy, we have a few spare hour after the soundcheck and I thought… I thought we could begin your bass guitar lessons.” Jeff scratches his nape holding his other hand deep in his pocket. Awkward loverboy alert… I pull a few steps away because I’m not interested in this embarrassing lovey-dovey but I also try to stay within earshot. Not that I give a shit about it, it’s just better to keep up with the sequels.

“Sure!” she smiles. “I mean, Karrie, do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon? If you don’t, we could…”

“Beth wants to do some shopping, I forgot to mention it… so I’m going with her. I wanted to ask you too but I have a mind like a sieve…” Karrie answers suspiciously quickly.

“Oookay, then why not?”

“Your place or mine?” Jeff asks not noticing how ambiguous he sounds.

“Jesus, Jeff, you don’t waste your time, straight to the point…” I throw in, which makes the others stop staring them and suddenly everybody pretends to be busy with their work to hide their grins and snorts.

“There’s that small park near the hotel, what if we go there?” the target person of the courtship tries to ignore my remark but can’t disguise the tremble in her voice.

Clever, again. She picks a neutral place. Cautious enough not to show her closest surrounding and smart enough not to get in awkward situations. I mean, boys’ rooms tend to be quite messy, the mixed smell of sweat and deodorant for men, not to mention the stinky sneakers and boxers left on the bed…

“Great. I’ve already mapped out which things I want to show you first.” Jeff goes on enthusiastically and more awkwardly if it’s possible at all. I see Dave’s shoulders shaking as he kneels behind his bass drum to fake-fix its pedal.

“Let’s begin with the basics, I only learnt the most common chords to be able to play some accompaniment to campfire songs and nursery rhymes.” she insists on keeping the conversation under control but Jeff doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“I can teach you a few useful finger techniques.” he exercises the fingers of his bear paws with sincere innocence in his eyes but at this point everybody cracks up; even his future music student giggles bashfully.

“What’s with everyone?” he looks around confused. “What’s so funny?”

“You should… have… heard yourself...” Scully hiccups as he and Smitty collapse of uncontrollable laughter onto each other’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah. That conversation was… juicy.” Dave adds winking and doing unmistakable moves with his hips and arms.

“Oh fff…” Jeff buries his face into his palms replaying the scene in his head. Dave steps to him to pat his shoulders a few times.

“You know what, Ames? You shouldn’t talk so much about what you’re going to do. Just… do it.”

***

“So what’s your plan with that skateboard?” Judy asks while we’re walking in the park searching for a remote place. She hasn’t come up with that awkward conversation yet and I can’t be grateful enough to her for that. I don’t know what happened to me, usually I’m not that clueless type… I was probably way too much focused on the possible outcome of this day. If can I stick to my plan, I’m going to ask her out in like one hour and I have absolutely no idea what she might answer and that drives me crazy. Cool down, Ament, don’t act like a junior high school student before his first prom…

“Uhm… I know it sounds surprising but I thought I could skateboard here…” Aaaand in the category of meaningless answers, the Oscar goes to… drumbeat… Jeffrey Allen Ament, Big Sandy, Montana!!! “Plus, I thought if being a qualified musician, you found the class boring, we could spice it up with some physical challenges… like… you should play bass lines while rolling and balancing on this skateboard. And if it was still a piece of cake for you we could search for a skate park with half pipes and you could even do somersaults and flips.”

“I don’t know… I’m not an athletic type… I’ve only tried to ride a scooter once in my life. Mary Sue Kellerman, my classmate lent me hers on the playground when we were second graders. She explained and showed me how to do it but somehow I didn’t feel the technique, I stepped on it, drove it a few times and enjoyed the speed so much that I forgot to drive it again.” she giggles.

“And… what happened?”

“Seeing I was slowing down she yelled after me like ”Drive, drive!” but I felt paralyzed, I pulled up gradually and ended up tumbling from a standing position…”

“Poor you! But my first skateboarding attempts weren’t glorious either and I still collect a few injuries when I decide to learn a new trick. But I fell in love with it at first… try, and I never want to give it up.”

“You could be a cool, skateboarding grandpa who shocks the youth!”

We find a calm, trellis-like corner and settle down still discussing the same topic. Unlike most girls I know, she doesn’t mind it at all and when I tell her how my father convinced me to build my own skateboard instead of buying that expensive Stacy Peralta board, she turns out to know him. I can’t believe my ears when she mentions Tony Alva too, I mean, who’s this girl?

“And how did you pick up how to play the guitar?” she nods towards the bass on my lap.

“Believe or not I took a few lessons… But they were boring, at least for me, no chords, no songs, only scales…”

“Scales are important!” she corrects me. I always forget that she’s pretty conscious as for music which isn’t typical at all in the band.

“What can I say… I grew up listening to my uncle’s records and as I could spare some money I spent all of it on ordering music magazines and vinyls. And when I started playing bass I figured out how to use my stereo vinyl player to learn Dee Dee Ramone’s parts.”

“I love them!” she exclaims.

“Really? I mean, you know a lot about music and punk songs aren’t very sophisticated concerning the musical part…”

“But that’s the best in punk. Even if you’re not very talented technically you still can play a bunch of songs… or if you can’t, you can still reproduce Dee Dee Ramone’s totally out-of-rhythm “one-two-three-four” yelling. And most punk songs operate with the classic scale degrees. Ramones also use the holy trinity of tonic, subdominant and dominant like the greatest composers before them and…” she jabbers enthusiastically without breathing.

“Waitwaitwait, stop! I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re talking about, if you want to analyze my favorite songs to me you have to go back to Genesis to make it understandable for this Montanan jerk!” I cut her off chuckling.

“Do you mean the Old Testament or the band?” she grins. “Anyway, it’s very simple, look.”

She grabs the instrument out of my lap, disposes it onto hers and strums all strings one after another.

“Normal basses are tuned like double basses, right?“ To my nodding she names them. “E, A, D, G. So, let’s take Blitzkrieg Bop which is written in A major.” She plays the bass line of the mentioned song flawlessly and explains its chord progression in the meantime. I listen to her with dropped jaw and when she falls silent for a second, I take my bass quickly back.

“Okay, the lesson is over, excuse me but I have to go and bury myself alive.” I remark trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a nerd or show off with my theoretical knowledge, I…”

“You don’t have to apologize for amazing me! But now it’s my turn to amaze you… Do you like graffiti?”

“I don’t know… I’m ambivalent… there are a few ones which look good and are also meaningful but if someone destroys a clear wall with stupid scrawls…” she frowns.

Oh. That’s not a good sign… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

“I prefer the creative ones too, such as my friend from the art school. He studied photography and spent his last years with shooting the best graffiti he’s seen all across the country and Canada and his exhibition opens on Thursday in Boston. And since we have a day off right that day, right there, I thought you could join.” I utter fast with one big breath. She stares me silently for a few seconds which seem like an eternity.

“ ’Course. Cool.” she answers briefly as if she was declaring something evident. I don’t have too much time to process the positive reception since she begins to roll my skateboard back and forth with her foot.

“Your introduction made me curious, I want to try this diabolical device.”

“Haha, okay, but only if I can walk next to you, you may need a handhold.”

She steps onto the board and she rolls cautiously on the path where we got here in a few minutes. She’s too busy with balancing to notice the rest of the band approaching from the gate.

“Hey Jeff, a suspicious woman is trying to steal your baby!” Eddie shouts.

“Look, guys I’m skateboaaaaaa…” she has to circle with her arms a few times and grab my shoulder to prevent herself from tumbling.

“Carefully, Judy. You should try surfing, it improves sense of balance and falling in water is safer than concrete.” Ed recommends.

“Say yes, if you don’t want to be fired…” Mike whisper-shouts hiding his face with one hand from Eddie preventing him from hearing it, which is obviously totally unnecessary.

“I’m not a big swimmer, so…” she shrugs apologetically.

“Anyway, did Jeff force you to try it? You can answer by signaling with your eyelids…” Mike jokes on.

“No, she just turned out to be a way better bass player than me. So I’ll quit the band and she’s begun to practice before she has to take over all of my tasks.”

“Ah, I see. Judy, I warn you, you’ll have to slam-dance with me. You should gain some weight, I don’t want to kill you…”

“Ed’s right. I’m going to slap you in the face with the guitar neck a few times… I mean literally… but no offense, you can hit back anytime you want or you can land on my foot after jumps from the monitor box like Jeff does…”

Judy wrinkles her nose as she tries to follow the relay of jokes. Stone – who has stayed silent until now – flashes an evil grin and clears his throat. The well-known first signs of his moronic verbal diarrhea.

“Guys, you forgot to prepare her for the most important circumstances. But that’s why I am the band leader… Judith, you have to do some shopping. The polyester basketball shirts are essential parts of our stage look, we can’t allow ourselves losing them just because Jeff quits. And the hats… that’s a more difficult question, they look quite… unique… so I don’t think you have any other choice than borrow them. Do you have sensitive scalp? Because… nevermind, I can lend you a few bandanas to make it more hygienic. Oh, and at certain points of the shows you’ll have to strip. Jeff often drops his shirt and plays on half-naked as you could already see it, you can’t break this tradition. But you also have to keep the hat on your head, don’t ask me why, that’s the rule.”

I sway my guitar case pretending I want to hit him and in the meantime I bite my lower lip to repress my grin. Stone is an idiot but sometimes he has good ideas… I mean obviously I can relate to that plot if I can be in the crowd… Jesus, when did I become such a sexist? I’ve just asked the poor girl out and… I’d better take a cold shower.

***

“And can we see you on TV on Saturday?” I ask rolling the film with my finger back and forth on the table. When Judy called me I was selecting pictures I want to show to Krisha as reference works and I found a few ones which I have to have developed.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re going to be with the guys in the studio but we’re not going to be filmed with the cameras. I think Karrie and Brett will have to work with the sound staff in the control room and I… I don’t know yet, if they let me in too I’ll just watch them like a useless idiot… which I am…”

“Control room? Wow, that sounds like a sci-fi, I can totally imagine the Star Trek characters there…” I deliberately ignore her low self-esteem-powered remark. “I’ve also seen in the previews that Sharon Stone would host the show, that’s an interesting combination…”

“Yep, Eric mentioned the creators wanted a funny scene or spot with her and the band but I don’t know if they can find a common ground. They only want to play music and aren’t interested in show business at all.”

“Maybe they want to gag with their physical appearance. Like, Sharon is tall and her legs are unrealistically long whereas Eddie is short so the screenwriters may figure out a joke about him being able to walk between her legs without bowing his head.” I guess as I start rummaging the photo heaps in front of me.

“Haha, you’re evil! You have no right to joke about Ed’s height, you’re a dwarf just like me…”

“But dwarf jokes are the best ones, you have to admit it. And… what are your plans until Saturday? Have you used the tape recorder yet?”

“Noooo…”

“You’re unbelievable, I’ve said you should…”

“…borrow a guitar, I know. Uhm, yesterday Jeff gave me a bass lesson, does that count?”

“Mmmmh, Jeff Ament?” I ask meaningfully. Since Judy joined the staff I played with the idea of them getting together, he seems to match her.

“No, Jeff Goldblum… of course Jeff Ament, who else? And he also let me ride his skateboard.”

“He let you ride his skateboard? That’s how you call it? It’s that a new slang or…” I cackle.

“Shut up, I meant it literally. No slang, no obscene details.” she cuts me off severely. So typical, usually she isn’t against sex related jokes but when actual guys around her come into play, she suddenly turns into a prude spinster.

“Okay, okay, I was just kidding. I’m just surprised, you haven’t mentioned yet you two spend time alone.” Actually I’m happy for these news, not only because I think they’d click but also because in the first ten minutes of our conversation she was cursing Stone Gossard. And even if only the half of what she claimed is true, I can’t blame her; the dude must be quite obnoxious. But still, she barely mentions anyone else from the band and I’m afraid if she goes on like this, these negative feelings will spoil her tour. “And how went the skateboarding? Did you collect a few bruises?”

“Haha, not yet. I didn’t try any tricks and I was probably quite clumsy but he kept encouraging me, he’s a nice guy. And ah, as for plans, he asked me whether I want to go to the photo exhibition of his friend in Boston. The guy invited them and Jeff asked me to join too.”

“That sounds great! And what kind of photos?”

“Photos of interesting graffiti. Jeff used to draw graffiti as well, did you know that? He told me a lot about himself but not in that annoying way when one is talking and talking and isn’t interested in the listener at all… this and the fact Eric defended me and they even gave me a cake… and that Jeff invited me with the bunch… make me feel they really accepted me as a member of the crew… and… oh, shit, I have to go, we have to set off for the show! Kisses for Mom and Granny!”

“Bye, take care of…” It’s needless to finish the sentence since she hung up in the meantime.

A few minutes later, I can hear the key turning in the lock and Mom literally falls in the apartment with her heavy shopping bags.

“You should have knocked, I would have helped you if you had asked me…” I shake my head and collect the apples and small cans which rolled everywhere on the ground.

“If I can give injection to Mrs. Mueller while she’s yelling at me calling me Gestapo’s slut, I can do everything…”

“Your foundation should employ octopuses, they are strong, can use their legs independently and are good listeners. And some of your clients wouldn’t even wonder if one crawled into their home…”

“That’s sure. I ask the opinion of my boss about it.” she settles to the table staring exhausted in front of herself.

“Anyway, you’ve just missed Judy’s call.”

“Damn… I wanted to hear her voice, I literally tossed Mrs. Muller into her bed to finish earlier…”

“Unfortunately you can’t see her either… I asked her about Saturday Night Live and we won’t see her in the show… But we still could watch it together, I would show you the guys and tell everything I’ve heard about them from her. We could make some popcorn and…”

“Oh, sweetie, haven’t I mentioned yet? I… I have to work…” she suddenly gets embarrassed.

“What? In the evening? On Saturday? By the time the show begins your clients are already sleeping the sleep of the just.” I complain.

“I know, but… there’s a former colleague from the hospital who works now in a nursing home. A few nurses quitted and I thought we could use the extra money so she recommended me to her boss as an occasional substitute nurse. And I begin on Saturday.”

Great. Since when have we concealed things like this from each other? I thought we could finally have a mother-daughter evening when she didn’t talk only about the insufferable old terrorists and didn’t pass out of exhaust right after dinner… she should finally relax and I need her company too, since Judy left I’ve felt like a lonely prisoner. And that’s more important than money, we don’t starve and if I got a few jobs I could contribute to our budget too, I wouldn’t be the cripple anymore who costs them a lot.

“And why didn’t you tell me that? Is it a secret or what?”

“Effie, honey, stop pouting, please. You can record it to me and we can watch it on Sunday. And I won’t even say a word if you stop it at every single shot, I’m going to listen to every single detail about these jam boys, I promise.”

“Mmmkay…” I mutter. I don’t like this patronizing voice, I’m not a toddler, I just want her to be honest with me.

“And what are you doing? Selecting pictures?”

“Yes… nothing particular…”

If she doesn’t tell me everything, why should I, right?

[hellyeahomeland]

“Useful Idiot” | Directed by Nelson McCormick

The first stop on Yevgeny’s BMW-sponsored trip through the mid-Atlantic is the airport hanger. This scene gave Gail “Long Time Coming” vibes and it gave Sara “Super Powers” vibes. People on this show sure do fly private a lot!

It’s here where the Yevgeny/Carrie parallels start. Committed to the mission, willing to leave behind Simone (with whom just a few minutes ago he was daydreaming about a month-long sex-filled getaway) but not willing to leave behind “his guy.” There are many echoes not only of late-season four Carrie, unwilling to leave Islamabad before she can find Quinn, but also of all seasons Carrie. Yevgeny is the most evenly-matched adversary Carrie has ever known (although, ironically, she’s never actually met him), created in her own image of “mission over man.” And this episode gives a laundry list of reasons why.  At the end of the scene, he says, “I can’t!”--a familiar refrain to all of us who have followed Carrie’s journey.

Sara had a slight panic attack when she saw this moment. One of the most disturbing moments of “A False Glimmer” (and there are many) was Carrie digging her fingernails into her palm in the hospital chapel. Here she is, doing it again, underlining the similarities between the situation she found herself in at the end of season five with Quinn, and the one she stands in now with Dante.

Dante’s BMW Journey continues. Look at how focused he is. He is all about the 10 and 2, ain’t he? Real talk, you can really tell a lot about a person by the way he drives.

While Carrie and Yevgeny are evenly matched and remarkably similar, their approaches to dealing with Dante couldn’t be more different. Let’s start with body language. Carrie stands over Dante, looking down at him, just after he’s woken up. She is incredulous and forceful and passionate. She practically wills him into flipping.

Oishk. First, Carrie, please find a hobby that is not this. You just sociopathically lied to the dude you POISONED and now you’re smiling in your car about it??? Girl, please. Also, the music that played over this was stripped-down, season one-era Homeland theme. You know the one. This is like the old school Carrie smile so I guess it fits.

(Sara would also like to point out that she was right on Sunday about Carrie smiling meaning that everything was about to go to shit.)

(Sara would additionally like to point out that, removed from context, Carrie certainly does look like a little button here, doesn’t she?)

This goob is also smiling like it’s 75 degrees outside for the first time in six months. Saul and Carrie, please find NEW HOBBIES. Preferably separate ones.

We will hand it to Saul. We didn’t think he’d be able to create a Power Point presentation on such short notice and with such neatly organized graphics. He even did a gradient background! We call BS on Wellington not being labeled a “UI,” but everything else looks pretty nice. (Wasn’t O’Keefe a UI, too?)

So many facial expressions this episode! Here is Max looking from Carrie (on his left) to Sandy (on his right), who are sparring about whether to use the burn code. Some men just know when to keep their mouths shut.

The set decoration of Paley’s office is really something. We spy:

Not one but two American flags

Possibly a Dilbert cartoon on the bottom right corner of his bookshelf?

A Washington monument replica

A bust of someone

A set of bullhorns

A cowboy hat

The decoration here is verging on caricature, but we also don’t doubt that Paley wants everyone who walks into his office to know he is a ~maverick.

Ok, so we skipped forward from Yevgeny’s BMW road trip (we don’t have much to say except homeboy should invest in a Bluetooth). We want to note how similarly he’s dressed to Carrie here, again really underlining the parallels the show is drawing between them. He’s got the black coat, leather jacket, dark pants, and boots. This is the Official Carrie Mathison Uniform. He’s also got the “surreptitiously looking around corners” look down pat so we’d say he’s well on his way.

We touched on this a bit on the podcast, but the scene as Carrie is leaving Maggie and Bill’s house is filmed with a handheld camera (after being steady when she arrives home). The ensuing shakiness here amplifies the instability of the situation and seems to precipitate Carrie’s loss of a grip on reality.

While we’re at it, we’ve also been thinking about the stained glass in Maggie’s entryway. Gail is convinced it’s intentional, a kind of marker of the sanctity of that household and just how much Carrie has disrupted order there.

Hop sighting!

Is this the moment Yevgeny decides to shoot Clayton? Look at the calculation going on there behind the scenes. The plot of this season has been successful in a lot of ways, but Costa Ronin deserves all kinds of credit for bringing Yevgeny to life in such vivid, dynamic, unpredictable detail.

In an episode in which Carrie is shown later with blood on her hands, it should come as no surprise that her foil wipes blood on his own. The “hands dirty” motif has weaved itself throughout many seasons of the show. Back in season two, Dar accused Saul of not wanting to get his own hands messy; he’d rather have others do his bidding. Carrie, meanwhile, try as she might, can’t help but get her hands dirty. And here we have Yevgeny, practically volunteering for the task.

After once again sneaking into a locked ward in the hospital (sometimes our most powerful enemies are hidden in plain sight; Yevgeny--and Russia IRL--has proven that to be just the case this season), Yevgeny takes a seat in Dante’s room. His posture and demeanor here is identical to how he’s been several other times this season, whether it was with Ivan or Simone’s lawyer. He’s casual, (now clean) hands folded demurely in front of him, feet out in front. He wants you to know he’s got nothing to hide. Contrast this of course with the way Carrie approaches Dante earlier in the episode. She was hovering, loud, and lying. Yevgeny is calm, quiet, and completely honest.

Sara’s note here was “if we are talking Carrie/Yevgeny parallels, he does what we all thought Carrie might have done at the end of ‘A False Glimmer’ by smothering Quinn.” Gail’s response was “WHOA, mind blown.”

The last three minutes of the episode play like a nauseating horror movie. This shot of Franny ushers in that feeling. Seriously, this is creepy as hell. Actors looking directly into the camera make us deeply uncomfortable.

Can’t get much more literal than this. She runs the stop sign, of course, but its message is blaring nonetheless. It’s what the audience is feeling and what everyone around Carrie has been trying to tell her since the season started.

There were a few shots in this sequence of Carrie squinting her eyes at the blaring sun. We’re not sure if this is a reference to Quinn’s light, her “beacon,” but in an episode that evoked his memory in more ways than one (and the fact that we hear those words at the beginning of every episode), it’s hard to feel like it was completely coincidental.

The sound editing during the sequence of Carrie walking through the hospital is impossible to capture visually, but we just want to note it anyway. It was impeccable. We hear the din of the crowd at Brody’s hanging slowly build, then her cries as she climbs the fence. While the flashbacks move to Aayan, we can still hear those crowds. And then the hail of bullets come in. It was unsettling (to say the least), but technically remarkable. They really throw you into Carrie’s head here, and the cacophony of her own memories replaying in her head is such an integral part of that.

That sensory immersion is visual, too, though. Once Carrie’s flashbacks start, she walks through hard, vivid overhead light (contrast with the shot above, right before the flashbacks start). This is remarkably similar to the lighting we saw in “Marine One” when Brody was in the bunker. Then, it was meant to evoke the stress and instability of the situation, and it accomplishes a similar feat here.

….And, here’s the blood on the hands. Interestingly, our focus here is mostly on Carrie’s face, as she stares directly into the camera (again, gosh, that’s so unsettling). Contrasted to Yevgeny, whose bloody hands took up the entire frame, it’s almost easy to miss. Then again, maybe that’s the entire point.

The episode ends, of course, with another sequence that also belongs in a horror movie. The slow push onto Carrie, backed up against the wall. The shaky cam, rendering her face blurry and unfocused. And her screams, sharp and high-pitched and seared into your memory, eventually indistinguishable from the flatline of Dante’s pulse.