#I AM STILL SALTY AND I HAVE CONSUMED 3 SEASONS MORE SINCE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jasontoddiefor · 5 years

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Title: you gave up half your life Fandom: Supernatural Summary: When Dean and Cas disappeared, Sam was lost. But in a world that had nearly broken apart so many times, he wasn’t the only one who needed support and guidance. AN: Remember when I ranted about season 7? Yeah good times. Here’s my 10.000 words Salty Post Season 7 Fix-it in which Sam Winchester accidentally starts organizing a bunch of Hunters all while trying to find his brother.

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Sam didn’t remember the first 48 hours after Dean had disappeared. He knew he must have gotten out of the building, away from the Leviathans, the demons and every pretty little hell his mind could have thrown at him, and driven away in the Impala. He had woken up covered in black goo at the side of a road outside of some tiny town he didn’t even know the name of, miles and hours away from where they had stopped the apocalypse 2.0.

Dean was gone.

Sam had to get him back.

The two of them had a pact, of course. If one of them died, the other would continue on with his life. No shady deals, no sacrifices, no years wasted away chasing after the barest whisper of hope.

That pact was lie.

Sam had known as much from the moment he had died for the first time. They had sworn it to assure each other that they weren’t too far gone yet, that they could still be functional members of society that weren’t utterly codependent.

During his time at Stanford, Sam had taken a course on children’s psychology. Siblings that grew up with absent parents tended to cling more to each other. The younger they were, the stronger the bond.

The course had been eye-opening and confronted him with more than just one uncomfortable truth. (Sam had never cried out for their father after a nightmare.) As long as Dean was out there, somewhere, Sam could manage.

But now Dean was gone.

Not dead, not possessed, just gone.

The pact was a lie and Sam was alone.

His next course of action was clear, he knew his mission (had done so once already in a fantasy land created by a cowardly angel): find Dean, consequences be damned.

(He heard Lucifer singing, oh, so sweetly, “This is why you were made for me.” He ignored it.)

Sam started to research. He had always liked that part of the job the most. Ever since he could think, he’d been absorbing knowledge. It was the most ordinary, white-picket-fence like part of being a Hunter. When he had been younger, Sam used to pretend that he was preparing for a school project instead of trying to figure out what was going to kill his family if he didn’t do his job correctly.

He began collecting books from all kinds of places. All his Leviathan research was already stored on his laptop and about five different hard drives he carried with him at all times. It was hard to find anything online Sam didn’t already know or the Leviathans hadn’t covered up themselves. The lore on purgatory, which Sam had already gone through, was about as vague and contrasting as possible. According to the Catholic church, it didn’t even exist anymore. At the same time, the older the lore, the more accurate and Dante had written a whole adventure about it. Sam should have asked Cas how reliable Dante's account of hell, purgatory, and heaven was. Sam had only been to two of those realms and his memories of both were hazy. What little the monsters had let slip out about purgatory didn’t help him either.

Sam was looking at a puzzle he didn’t know how to solve, where to start searching. Usually, Dean would throw in some random comment now, sparking a new thought process.

But Sam was alone.

(For now.)

He had to keep looking.

After he had gotten back from the Cage, Sam had to stop himself whenever he introduced Dean.

“This is my brother-,” he would say and halt. Dean took over then, playing whatever role he had assumed at the moment.

Sam had been too much of a coward to ask Dean if he knew that it took months for Sam to get it under control, until Adam was no longer the first name on his tongue.

“You’re my brother Adam,” Sam had whispered for a century, wrapped tightly in Grace while sheltering his younger brother.

The least damage to the most innocent of us, three of them had decided down there. The Cage did not provide any space for raging battles or accusations, and it was meant for only one of them. There was companionship to be found in equal suffering.

(Even in the darkest place on Earth, Sam hadn’t been on his own.)

Sam had lost one brother for eternity. He wasn’t going to lose another.

Sam had almost forgotten that he had a phone until it rang one day. He had been lying half asleep on the small table of the motel room, which still had two queen-sized beds because Sam hadn’t gotten out of the habit of asking for such yet. Last time, it had taken almost two months. Sam didn’t intend to be separated from his brother long enough to get rid of the habit again.

The ringing of the phone startled him awake. In his disorientation, he knocked his mug, half-filled with cold coffee, off the table.

“Shit,” Sam cursed and threw the nearest piece of fabric he could find over it.

He then rushed over to his bag, searching for his phone.

Please, he thought. I need just this one miracle.

Sam didn’t recognize the number on the phone. Memorizing numbers of hotel rooms, license plates, phones, holes in jeans, and bullets had been one of the first things John Winchester had taught Sam.

After Dean had shown Sam how to read such numbers.

“Hello?” Sam answered the phone. His voice was rough – when had he last talked to someone?

“Sam Winchester?”

Sam’s first reaction was to recoil. He wanted to scream, shout, throw something.

He did neither of those things.

“Kevin? Is that you?”

A sob rang from the other end of the line.

“Oh, God. It really is you. I know I memorized your number correctly, but the tablet messed with my head and I just, I need-“

“Kevin, breathe,” Sam ordered. “Where are you?”

“New York,” Kevin stammered. “State, not city. I managed to escape, but Crowley will know soon because I blew up his demons and I don’t know where to go or what to do-“

“I’ll come get you. Go somewhere safe and ward the room like you’re expecting the devil himself to knock and then call me again.”

He sent a quick and silent prayer to Castiel, the only angel worth praying to left these days despite everything, and began to pack his things. Truth be told, Sam hadn’t really thought about Kevin since that day. Crowley had just grabbed him and vanished, and Dean, always Sam’s priority, had been more important.

Dean would be ashamed Sam had let himself get so absorbed in such a single-minded attitude. This hyper-focusing, while it helped fighting one cause, could get you killed just as quickly. A Hunter couldn’t be entrenched. They had to think quickly and be flexible and open to other ideas. For all that Hunters hated deviating from the norm, if you only knew how to salt-n-burn bones, your third ghost would get you.

Within fifteen minutes, Sam was packed. He loaded his belongings into the Impala and drove off into the direction of New York.

Sam found Kevin in an overcrowded motel, hiding out in a wardrobe that was covered in so many sigils, it might as well be drenched in ink. Kevin had picked up on quite a lot of knowledge in the short time he had been exposed to the supernatural. Though, maybe, that also had to do with his status as a prophet of the Lord. Perhaps this knowledge was written into his soul.

When Sam opened the door, Kevin was cradling the demon tablet with one hand and a water bottle with the other.

“Hey, Kev-“

Sam didn’t get much further, as Kevin hit him with a glass full of water.

“I’m not a demon, Kevin,” Sam said slowly. He knew better than to scare the younger man now.

“You could have been possessed!” Kevin insisted, bloodshot eyes wide open with a crazed look.

Sam shook his head and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck to expose his anti-possession tattoo.

“Not with this. As long as I’ve got this one intact, I’m good.”

Kevin stared at the black ink.

“Is that Hunter standard?” He asked. “And can I get one?”

For the first time in weeks, or so it felt like, Sam managed to twist his face into something resembling a happy expression with the hint of a smile.

“Sure, Kevin. If you’re up for a long drive right now.”

Kevin was tired. It was written all over his face, his posture. He had a haunted look in his eyes, one Sam knew all too well. It was easy to forget that not everyone had been raised in this life like Sam and his brother had. But right now, staring in Kevin's sunken-in face, Sam was reminded of just how much Kevin had had to adapt since he’d woken up as a prophet.

“I need to keep moving,” Kevin insisted, subtly shifting so the tablet was pressing into his body uncomfortably.

“Okay. Then we keep moving.”

Kevin fell asleep in the backseat of the Impala within fifteen minutes, still holding onto the tablet. Once in a while, Sam glanced at Kevin, but he slept peacefully. The past weeks must have been an enormous strain on his body and mind if he rested as well as he did now, with no nightmares haunting him.

(The first few nights after Cas had taken Lucifer from him, Sam had been so out of it as well. He had fallen asleep and just woken up again, not chased by blood, torture, and screams. Nowadays, if he slept, he had night terrors. It almost made him miss Lucifer. Almost.)

Sam wished he could say the same.

After a couple days of pretty much non-stop driving, Sam and Kevin arrived in a relatively small town. They got a motel, checked for any signs of demons and promptly warded the room to withstand a minor assault. Then they left the Impala in the parking lot and headed for a diner. Kevin hadn’t eaten properly in days (not that Sam had either, but he also wasn’t recovering from a kidnapping) and needed something nutritious.

“Where are we?” Kevin asked while he was swirling his soup around with his spoon, not eating any of it.

“Nebraska, passed the state lines a couple hours ago.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I can read road signs, Sam. But you were heading to this city specifically – why?”

“There’s a retired Hunter here, or at least, I hope he’s still here. He owns a tattoo shop.”

Kevin stared at him, not giving Sam the impression that he had made the connection. Then again, he’d been so out of it when Sam had picked him up, he might not even remember.

“You wanted to get an anti-possession tattoo,” Sam elaborated.

“Oooh, yeah.” Kevin looked down on his bowl. “I forgot about that. But why here? Couldn’t we have walked to any shop?”

The answer was yes, they could have, but Sam didn’t want to. Marty McKinnons never really left his state for hunting. Sam had met him when he was on his way to Stanford, seven days separated from Dean. Sam may or may not have had a minor breakdown in the passenger seat of Marty’s car while they drove away from a graveyard.

“I only managed seven fucking days of normal before the crazy came back again. What the hell was I thinking?” Sam had said then.

Marty had let Sam crash on his sofa that night and set his head straight again. He had been managing a shop and a band while hunting. “You don’t have to give it all up, kid,” Marty had said. “Or push it all away. If you see a ghost, take care of it or call someone who can. No need to go searching for cases like your daddy. If your neighborhood’s good, so are you.”

And then he had given Sam breakfast and driven him to the bus station.

“We could,” Sam finally replied. “But I’ve wanted to check out who else is still in the game, and if they know what the demons are up to.”

Kevin mustered Sam a little while longer. “Alright.”

He went back to pretending he was actually going to eat more of his soup and Sam picked at his salad.

Marty’s shop was crammed into an alley, an off-shoot of the main road. It was still standing. Sam took that as a good sign. Kevin walked slightly behind Sam, staying as close as he possibly could without full-on taking over Sam’s personal space.

Sam opened the door to the shop and the old bell attached to the doorframe rang. Marty had stolen it out of an abandoned church. Sam couldn’t quite recall what monster church bells warded against, but he could remember in perfect detail Marty’s hilarious tale about its acquisition. It had involved neon pink paint and lucky charms and had sounded like something out of a comedy sketch.

“Welcome to Artemis Tattoo’s, what can I do for you?”

Marty looked a little different than Sam recalled. It shouldn’t surprise him, it had been over a decade. The red-haired man was well into his fifties now, and his hair was graying, giving him a silver-fox look.

“Hey, Marty,” Sam greeted lamely. “It’s me, Sam-“

“Sam Winchester?” Marty interrupted him with wide eyes.

He took off his glasses and rubbed them over his black t-shirt before putting them on again.

“Christo, is that really you, kid?”

Sam shrugged helplessly. “Still me, still kicking.”

Compared to Sam, most people were smaller than him. Marty was the only person Sam knew who was taller than him still. When he marched towards you, it was impossible to not feel intimidated. Nobody would expect a man of Marty’s age and built to be as silent and fast as he was, so when he suddenly rushed towards Sam, Sam was caught off-guard. He didn’t even have a chance to act before Marty pulled him close.

He was hugging him, Sam realized belatedly.

“Holy fucking hell, kid,” Marty cursed. “You’re alive. You wouldn’t believe the shit I heard about you Winchesters in the past years. Where’s your brother?”

Sam tensed and Marty slowly let go of him. Marty had started hunting because his older sister had been killed by a witch, Sam remembered.

Sam didn’t have it as bad as him.

“Dean’s- he’s gone.”

(But he would be back.)

“Hell, kid. I’m sorry-“

“He’s not dead,” Sam insisted. Each time he said it out loud, he managed to stand a little bit straighter. “He’s just lost. I’ll find him. But that’s not what I’m here for. Look, this is Kevin.”

Sam stepped aside to let Marty get a good look at Kevin. Kevin waved timidly and nervously took in Marty’s many tattoos. The older man was covered in them from head to toe. Most of them were for the aesthetic, but quite a lot were there because they helped on the job.

Marty specialized in taking down witches, and while you couldn’t protect yourself from all of their spells, there were quite a lot counter measurements one could ink into their skin.

“Kevin’s a prophet. Crowley’s had him for a while-“

“Crowley?”

Right. Sometimes Sam forgot that not everybody dealt with demons on the daily like him.

“Current King of Hell,” Sam continued. “Kevin managed to escape, but we need to get him some extra security.”

Marty nodded slowly and then grinned, warm and toothily like Sam remembered. It was nice to be looked at in kindness for once instead of hatred and fear like most Hunters did nowadays.

“Anti-possession tattoo, you’re thinking?”

“Yes,” Kevin spoke up for the first time since they had entered the shop. “I don’t want one of those bastards in my head. If they know what I know…”

“Could get bad, I got you. Man, am I glad I don’t deal with those sons of a bitch. And you, Sam? Can I get you anything?”

Sam stuck his hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out a paper sheer that used to be white once upon a time.

“Yes, actually,” Sam said. “There is something I want.”

In the years Sam and Dean had been hiding from Heaven and Hell, they had learned more about wards than their father had in his entire life. Most of them had to be powered by blood, freshly spilled. A few of them, like the Enochian sigils Castiel had branded onto their ribs, could be applied and would work without a sacrifice, or one that only needed to be paid once.

Sam had never thought about putting anything other than the anti-possession tattoo on his skin (it was too easy to alter wards, to make them turn on the one using them, to have them drain you, they made you recognizable) but the last years had worn him down.

And if anything ever got close enough to him again to manipulate him (wear his body, wrap his soul in sweet lullabies while they tear into his brother’s flesh-), then perhaps Sam deserved it.

He wasn’t young and weak anymore.

(He had pulled Lucifer apart.)

Sam could afford to wear the wards he wanted.

“Are you sure?” Marty asked, studying the paper Sam had handed him. “This is… I don’t even recognize half of this.”

(Nobody would. Something had been meant for Archangel Grace only, but Sam had been there and he had listened. And he remembered.)

Kevin looked over the paper as well, frowning. When he met Sam’s eyes, he was troubled.

“That’s a lot,” Kevin said, something old lingering in his voice.

Maybe being a prophet didn’t just mean that Kevin could read God’s Word.

“I know,” Sam said. “I want it.”

(I consent.)

When they separated from Marty, the man pulled both of them into another heartfelt hug. Kevin looked like he was about to break and Sam’s hug was a little awkward as Marty was mindful not to touch Sam’s back.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” Marty said. “You have my phone number. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Same goes for you, Marty,” Sam replied. “And if anyone wants to get the wards, but has questions about them, they can call me. I can explain.”

Marty smiled warmly and messed up Sam’s long hair. “You’re a good kid. Stay safe.”

They drove westward, hitting old libraries and archives, universities and churches. Sam kept learning, kept going. He couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. He felt a little bit like he was losing his mind.

(Except this was reality.)

Kevin wasn’t any better.

He barely slept. Most of the time, he was staring at the demon tablet, taking notes and trying to make sense of everything written there.

After a month of traveling, Kevin admitted defeat.

“I can’t do this if we keep moving,” he admitted quietly. “I need peace and calm to actually understand what I’m doing here.”

“Okay,” Sam said. He had expected it. “I’ll find a place.”

Some Hunters never traveled far away from their home, others were so lost they drifted until some monster killed them. As much as Sam had detested it, he had been raised on the road. He had studied for his finals lying on the backseat of the Impala. He had gotten a full-ride to Stanford with sticky-notes pinned to the windows.

(Sam wondered what he could have been if he had been able to recover in peace.)

Sam left Kevin at an old abandoned church. They set up traps for demons, bought enough non-perishable food to ensure Kevin wouldn’t have to leave the church for a while (until Sam found a better solution) and said their quiet goodbyes.

(“Looks like you’re well and truly on your own.”)

Everybody left.

Sam should be used to it by now.

It didn’t stop him from watching Kevin in the rearview-mirror until the distance ate him up.

Dean was gone two months now. Kevin called sometimes, but Sam couldn’t always keep up with his rambles. The Impala was stocked full with books kept in a neat organization system that hadn’t ever made sense to anyone but Dean.

Sam hunted a vampire in Colorado.

Then a witch in Utah.

A werewolf in Arizona.

Ghouls, shifters, ghosts, wendigos, rugaru-

And then, blood splattered over his clothes, Sam killed a demon.

Two hunters with twin shocked expressions pointed at Sam, then at the dead body and threw up their arms in defeat, shouting, “You can do that!?”

Sam had been avoiding demons to the best of his abilities. He knew they were hunting him and Kevin down, and while at some point he had entertained the thought of using himself as bait to lure them as far away from Kevin as possible, he had settled on trying to stay as far away from them as he could.

Until he couldn’t.

The demon was working on his own and he hadn’t been really all that well-informed or strong. It was easy enough to trap him and get him to break.

Sam hated torture, but not as much as Dean did.

(Because Dean wasn’t just good at it, he was great.)

But he could get a demon to start speaking if he wanted it to. The demon had boasted so proudly about how much he had made the owner of his meatsuit suffer until the soul had died, not knowing that his actions had only made it easier for Sam.

And then, when he had stabbed the knife through the demon’s heart, two college kids broke into the warehouse.

They must be siblings, twins maybe even, Sam thought. Both of them had curly dark hair, equally dark skin, and their expressions were too similar for them to not be family.

“You just killed a demon,” the smaller one said. “How do you- what. Just. What?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“Dude, who are you? You just offed a demon!”

They couldn’t be older than twenty-five at most, at best if Sam allowed himself to hope. They knew about demons, so they had to be Hunters. Probably not in the business for long if they didn’t know demons could be killed. That was common knowledge amongst the community, or what was left of it. At least Sam thought it was. He and Dean had never really been close to a lot of Hunters because of their reputation.

“I’m Sam Winchester,” he introduced himself.

The eyes of the pair widened.

Not good.

Sam slowly shifted his body into a more versatile position and counted the exits. He would defend himself, no questions asked, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone. If he could get away from the two without the situation escalating into a fight, everything would be alright.

“Sam Winchester,” the taller twin spoke up. “You’re really Sam Winchester?”

And then something curious happened.

The twins dropped their shoulders in pure relief, hope lighting them up like they still had something to believe in that hadn’t been broken by blood and deals.

Well, that was a first.

“Dude,” the smaller one said. “Thank you so much.”

What.

Sam hadn’t said a word, but his confusion must have shown (damn it, he used to be better at acting, at pretending, at reassuring everyone that he was fine) because the kid immediately began to babble.

“You saved us. Just. Thank you. Just, thank you for everything.”

“You are welcome?”

Sam still didn’t know what they were talking about, but he sincerely hoped that he was right in assuming the two of them meant no harm. They put away their guns, practically vibrating with energy.

“I’m sorry, but have we met before?” Sam asked.

“No,” the taller replied. “I’m Gregory Rosswell and this one here next to me is my brother Frederick. Our parents got snatched by Leviathans a couple months back. We’ve been going after them ever since and everything else that came our way.”

Gregory glanced at the dead demon behind Sam. “Mostly ghosts though. Caught one demon, but he almost blew our brains out. Couldn’t chug enough salt and holy water at him fast enough.”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “How did you catch one so easily?”

“Devil’s trap,” Sam said.

“Oh.”

The twins shared a look. “Can you teach us how to draw one?”

Gregory and Frederick Rosswell were twenty-years-old (too young, children still, they shouldn’t be here) and had both been home from university when their parents had been replaced by Leviathans. When they had tried to do the same to Frederick, Gregory had cut off their heads with a cutlass from their father’s ancient weapons collection.

Sam refrained from asking whether the cutlass hidden beneath the backseat of the twins’ car was the one Gregory had used. They had a fairly impressive collection of knives and swords, but only two small handguns.

“We don’t need those much since we mostly go after Leviathans,” Gregory explained. “Didn’t even know there was more crazy out there until we ran into our first ghost.”

Gregory said it so casually that Sam didn’t know whether to be impressed or shocked. Leviathans weren’t easy to kill, even depowered as they now were, and Hunters, whose introduction to life was so violent, tended to die sooner than later.

When Sam tried to explain that, the Rosswells only looked at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, man. Back up a second. Vampires are real too?”

The twins turned to each other, conveying thoughts in half-smiles, a groan and a tap on the shoulder. Then they decided to invite Sam back into their conversation.

“What else is there?” Gregory asked. “And how do we kill it?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Sam said.

They were twenty, they shouldn’t be hunting when they had their whole lives still ahead of them.

(Sam was twenty-nine, was two-hundred-twenty, centuries, ages, older than his brother would ever be.)

“We know,” Frederick replied. “But we don’t want to stop. We can’t stop.”

Sam had never met a Hunter who could. (Himself included.)

Sam had never actually taught someone how to be a Hunter. Frederick and Gregory got the basics done already and research wasn’t unfamiliar to them. Their father had been a policeman, so they knew how law enforcement worked and could pretend to be a part of it well enough. Sam didn’t feel like he was actually teaching them a lot by giving them a list of America’s Top Twenty Monsters and a How To Kill Them All manual.

If he was honest, he thought the twins did most of the work. For the weeks they stuck with him, they asked countless questions, treating him like a tired college professor.

“How much Holy Water can you bless at once?”

A lot, but no, you can’t just bless the ocean. That’s not how it works.

“Wooden stake for tricksters? Where does that even come from?”

Yes, wooden stake. Works if they’re not angels in disguise.

“Angels are real!?”

Yes, and they all suck. Never let one of them possess you. They may need your consent, but it doesn’t need to be an informed or gentle one. You’ll be out of control and feel like you’ve been strapped to a comet. (Like you’re trapped in the softest dream, surrounded by memories of your siblings when they still loved you and the world was whole and untainted.)

“I know Latin and I’d been learning Greek for my bachelor, but how many languages do you need to know?”

A lot.

“Why do you carry so many books around in your car? Wouldn’t it be easier to get a place to store them in?”

“And organize them properly?” Frederick teased.

Sam looked at the backseat of the car and yes, true enough, he had accumulated a small library.

“Oh, shut up, you two,” Sam muttered, and pointedly ignored that one of the stacks of books had fallen over, making the twins grin like idiots.

When they went their separate ways again, Sam was a little more convinced that he wasn’t sending the two of them off to their deaths. And if they ever met anything they didn’t know, they could call him. It was the least he could do.

What Sam hadn’t expected when he handed the Rosswells his number, was how often they would call. Sometimes they asked for help regarding hunts, but more often than not, they just asked about him or talked about whatever kind of crazy had happened to them lately. When Sam had started attending Stanford, he’d had to train himself in the delicate art of small talk. While attending school, he’d never connected much with his peers, too aware that he’d soon move away again, and with Dean around, he hadn’t needed to say a single word more than necessary. Even with all their differences, the choices that had made them grow apart, they got each other.

(Except when they didn’t and the world had to pay for it.)

At Stanford, though, Sam learned that small talk wasn’t just something you took part in to stay busy but to build longer-lasting relationships. The years on the road had made his skill rusty, but the Rosswells were doing their best to bring it back.

Sam didn’t know why telling them what he had for dinner was a good topic choice (but it did make him more conscious of the meals he kept skipping) or why he could listen to Gregory talking for a good fifteen minutes about how difficult it was to eat healthy on the road.

He always accepted their calls, never hit decline, even when they called in the middle of the night (Sam wasn’t sleeping anyway).

Marty called a few times too, his latest call informing Sam of his new partner Caitlyn, a young florist, who had set up her shop just a few meters away from him and put all her bouquets in holy water.

“She’s new to all of this. Vamps got her husband last year – that’s why she moved town.”

Kevin checked in less regularly and to even more random times than the twins. After one more erratic call that almost chased Sam halfway across the country, he asked the twins to go check in on Kevin.

At 3 a.m., his phone rang, and Sam got to stare at a picture of three young men, squatting in a confessional box and watching a movie on a laptop. Kevin was smiling tiredly and Frederick’s new scar was healed enough to be exposed.

They were healthy.

(They were alive.)

Sam could keep going.

Month four without Dean started by Sam staring at his phone and the many messages he had received in the few hours he had been asleep. Apparently, his friends had decided to team up and create a group chat.

The last dozen messages were everyone trying to make out what the hell Kevin’s sleep-deprived 4 a.m. message had meant while the prophet in question was probably (hopefully) fast asleep for once.

That’s Enochian, Sam typed mindlessly. It means Protection, but specifically referring to a situation in which demons are trying to possess someone who used to be an angel vessel.

Gregory: What?

Frederick: Hi Sam!!!

Marty: how is that ever a likely situation?

Sam grinned. It can also mean Protecting someone who is Loved by God. Angel vessels are precious to them. Ruining them is a severe offense.

Marty: yeah no goodbye I’m out.

Sam met the Hilllains on a ghost hunt. They had three kids, fifteen, twelve and six years old, who all knew how to handle knives and shoot guns and what to do when your mom fell over because she had a vision. The Hillains usually didn’t leave their state since “Raising kids on the road is just irresponsible”.

Susan Hillain-Waterbury was the descendant of a long line of gifted people and Terrence Hillain was a priest turned Hunter after a run-in with a demon. Most of the time, they hunted on the weekends and brought home fast food as a treat on Sunday afternoons.

Sam stayed with them until Monday evening because Susan insisted on making her world-famous lasagna for him as a thank you.

Four months and two weeks into his search and Sam had stopped asking for a room with two beds. When he realized that, he abandoned most of his weapons except the knife and headed for the nearest bar. People made space for him when he walked past them, and he didn’t think it was just because of his height.

The bartender took one look at him and filled a crystal clear glass with something that smelled so strong it burned in Sam’s nose.

“First one’s on the house,” she said.

“Thank you,” Sam muttered and downed the drink in one go.

(“Free booze! Awesome. C’mon, Sammy. Smile at her! See if you can get a second!”)

“Just keep them going, please.”

Alcohol couldn’t properly knock Sam out anymore. He hadn’t tried drugs (strong ones, anyway), but those shouldn’t have much of an effect on him either. He remembered the peaceful embrace of another, the oblivion that came with being lulled into memories of happy times when Father still loved them all.

Sam was tired.

His research was going fucking nowhere and he couldn’t keep everything organized and he was failing Dean yet again. He hadn’t been able to get his brother out of hell and he wouldn’t be able to get him out of purgatory.

What a fucking waste of space he was.

When he stumbled out of the bar, he stabbed a man with blonde hair and green eyes right between his ribs, watched as the demon within perished. Wordlessly, he dropped the body in a side-alley where it would be found by morning and a mourning family would have a place to grief at.

What did Sam have left?

(Nothing.)

He put the few belongings he had bothered out pack back in the car and drove off.

The next day he hit a dog.

Sam wasn’t thinking when he wrapped the dog into his towel and drove to the nearest animal clinic.

“I need help,” Sam exclaimed when he entered the clinic. Admitting more than he wanted to. “The dog needs help.”

“He just came out of nowhere, right in front of my car. We need a doctor. Are you a doctor?”

The animal couldn’t die. Not now, not right in front of Sam because he had made another mistake. It shouldn’t have to pay for Sam’s flaws.

It couldn’t die.

It couldn’t-

Sam’s shirt was still drenched in (Dean's) the dog’s blood. The smell didn’t bother him, it was too familiar to him to register on his mind.

When the doctor entered the room, everything was still a blur. Sam tried to keep his breathing under control, stop his hands from shaking and not fall into a panic.

Somehow, it ended with him owning a dog.

The motel he was staying at didn’t mind that he was keeping Dog, who still didn’t have a proper name. Sam had always been terrible about naming anything at all. When he was younger and had wanted a pet, Dean had collected the spiders of their motel rooms and named each and every one of them.

The various hero names Dean had slapped on them hadn’t been very creative either, but better than anything Sam had come up with.

The doctor who had done Dog’s surgery assured him that he was recovering well. Amelia Richardson, that was her name, was much kinder to him now that he apparently didn’t classify as a total asshole who hit animals while driving irresponsibly.

She still thought he was creepy and that there was something wrong with him (he was torn to bits and pieces, no amount of tape could fix him), but she stopped with the random accusations. The cash he earned at the motel, fixing a little bit of everything here and there, was enough to help him pay for Dog’s medication.

Sam felt like he was holding his breath and he didn’t know what he was waiting for.

Five months after Dean’s disappearance began with another random call. He didn’t recognize the number displayed on the phone screen, nor the voice speaking.

“Is this Sam Winchester?”

Sam evaluated the pros and cons of lying but settled on stating the truth. If it turned out this person meant to harm, Sam knew how to disappear quickly.

“Yes, who’s calling?”

The woman on the line sighed.

“My name’s Penny. I’m a… Hunter?” She trailed off, sounding unsure. Sam thought he heard a second voice ring in the background, saying something like, “That’s what Mackey called us!”

“Okay, jeez. I didn’t ask for your opinion Himari and Chasers sounds way better, it’s like Harry Potter,” Penny muttered. That was probably not meant for Sam’s ears. “Anyway. We already called Mackey – he’s another Hunter – but he couldn’t help us, and the Rosswells said you always help them with their cases so they gave us your number, and people are dying and we don’t know what to do.”

While Sam had gotten accustomed to his new network over time, he hadn’t expected the others to hand out his number. There was a certain risk attached to it but- Never mind. He could help out another Hunter, especially if she

“Okay,” Sam said. “Yes, sure. Of course, I can help you. What are you hunting?”

“No idea.”

Sam grimaced and put the phone on speaker, another habit stemming from being around Dean 24/7. Whenever Bobby called them to give them a little help, they put the phone on speaker so the other could listen in. Sam didn’t need to do it anymore. He did it anyway.

“What and how does it kill then?”

“It burns the victims,” Penny said. Her voice sounded a little off, she probably hadn’t come across many burned corpses then already. The smell and the sight were always a little nauseating. “But there are also multiple bite marks and poison and the only reason we think it’s only one monster is that all victims have at least two of those signs.”

Sam couldn’t think of a single monster that killed in such a way, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. If the whole catastrophe with Eve had shown one thing, then that America’s monsters didn’t care about staying traditional. Much like humans, they had immigrated over the centuries and spread and there was no way to keep track of every country’s varied monster population.

“I’ll go do some research, Penny. Just send me what you have so far per SMS,” Sam replied, already packing his messenger bag. “I’ll call you back as soon as I got something. If a new victim pops up, give me another call.”

Sam hesitated. Penny couldn’t be doing this for long if she was unfamiliar with the term Hunter, right?

“Otherwise, stick to silver, iron, salt, and holy water. Those works on most things.”

Seasoned Hunters would think of such advice as patronizing, as much as they appreciated help on a challenging hunt, they were all fairly arrogant, considering themselves experts.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

Sam snorted. “Just call me Sam, everyone does.”

He ended the call and halted, just for a moment. Everyone?

(He sure had surrounded himself with more people than he thought he would, than he ever should.)

Sam didn’t expect to run into any trouble while researching for Penny until he stood in front of the library, Dog’s leash still in his hand. He couldn’t take a dog into a library, could he? A bit helplessly and lost he stood in front of the library until a young girl took pity on him and told him he could leave Dog on the west side of the library, where they had a small sheltered space for dogs. Sam thanked her and quickly got to work.

He started looking for any incidents happening in the town Penny was in, but couldn’t find any. Then he moved on to ghosts, covering the basics before returning to researching all kinds of monsters. When the American usuals didn’t bring any results, Sam turned to European folklore and myths, where he soon discovered something fitting.

Sam dialed Penny’s number. “Hey, Penny? I think I know what it might be.”

“Really? But- what. That took you barely 3 hours!”

Sam glanced at the time displayed in the corner of his laptop. It really hadn’t taken that long.

“Well, want to hear what I found?”

“Yes, please.”

Sam smiled and scrolled to the top of his word document. “Okay, so, it looks like you’re dealing with a chimera from Greek mythology. It’s a fire-breathing female monster resembling a lion in the forepart, a goat in the middle, and a dragon or snake behind. In the myth, Bellerophon kills it by lodging a block of lead inside the Chimera's throat.”

“How are we supposed to stuff lead inside such a monster?” Penny replied, her voice bordering on hysterics.

“Look,” Sam said. “Myths like to make things more complicated, heroes more heroic and cunning. Most likely, you’ll be fine by using weapons made out of lead.”

“You sure?”

“As sure as you can be with those things.”

Penny took a deep breath, probably to calm herself. Sam waited until she was done to speak up again. “Do you need back up?”

“No,” Penny said. “Himari called Mackey again to tell him I called you – he says hi by the way? You called him after Bobby’s death apparently…?”

Oh, that Mackey. He was one of Bobby’s contacts. Sam had rung them all up to tell them about Bobby’s death. Not all of them were glad to hear of him, but a surprisingly high amount was.

“Yeah, I know Mackey. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, Himari worked with him before. Anyway, he’s driving our way to help out. I guess I’ll call when it was a success?”

“You do that. Much success and don’t forget to aim for the head.”

Penny laughed, still a little nervous but at least not as much as before. “Thanks for the help again, Sam.”

A week later, Sam got a call from Mackey, asking if he had any use for chimera blood.

“Always split the spoils with Bobby,” Mackey said. “I swear, Bobby had everything stored down there in his basement.”

“He did,” Sam agreed. He remembered spending two months at Bobby's by himself while John was out like always and Dean was gone. Sam had done a lot of research during that time, not all of it necessarily child-friendly despite Bobby’s attempts to keep him away from it. He’d spend at least one weekend labeling all the weird monster parts Bobby had been keeping on old shelves.

“Thanks for the call, Mackey, but I don’t have the space for that.”

Sam’s eyes drifted to the books and weapons already taking up most of the space in the Impala and some more.

“Too bad, I don’t have any either. You know any Hunter shops?”

“I…” Sam’s thoughts drifted back to Marty or rather Caitlyn. She didn’t hunt as much as the rest of them, only really when Marty asked her to be his back up. But she did start to collect more unusual ingredients, even if most of them were plant related.

“Actually, yes. How far are you from Nebraska? I know a good place there.”

Sam began to run into Amelia everywhere or so it felt. She was funny and kind, and she understood what it was like to lose something so dear to you, you forgot how to breathe.

“So, Sam, I was thinking: Do you want to go out on Friday? A proper restaurant, I mean. Not another motel room talk.”

“I like our-“

Sam’s phone rang. Frederick was calling him. Last Sam had heard, the twins were a couple hours away from him. “Hold up. Hey Fred, everything alright?”

“Sam!”

Frederick’s panic immediately put Sam on edge. “Fred, what’s going on?”

“Can you come drive up? Gregory and I stumbled upon a werewolf pack and they’re hunting kids for sport and I think they’re onto us and I know there are four at least and we have no idea what to do. Just. Please. I know you’re busy searching for Dean, but we’re at our wit's end.”

Sam looked at Amelia. She was smiling softly still, much happier than the first time he’d met her. Riot, the finally renamed Dog, was lying next to her and wagging his tail.

“Sam?”

People were relying on Sam.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible, give me your coordinates.”

Dean’s cursing about dog fur on the Impala’s leather chased Sam over the highways. He broke the speed limit on most roads, haunted by images of two death he could prevent if he was just in time. Riot looked out of the window, peaceful and healthy. All of Sam’s belongings were crammed into the trunk and on the backseat. A whole life and five months.

Sam made it just in time. The werewolves had indeed caught up to the twins and jumped their motel room. When Sam emptied a whole load of silver bullets into the werewolves, Frederick was only wearing sweat pants and using a towel to cover up his chest, holding onto his unconscious brother whose head was bleeding.

The werewolves dropped to the ground, dead. Frederick, blood splattered over his face, didn’t let go of his silver knife or Gregory.

Sam didn’t bother checking whether the werewolves were really dead, they had taken a bullet to their heads and wouldn’t return from that (unless heaven or hell took mercy on them and neither were kind to anyone but themselves).

“Frederick,” Sam said. “You need to get up.”

Frederick didn’t move. The motel was pretty empty, but someone was bound to have heard the attack, the fight or the murder, and they would come looking. They couldn’t afford to lose time now.

“Fred, get up,” Sam ordered. He held out his hand and when Frederick, shaken up, lifted his, Sam quickly took the knife out of it and threw it in the small suitcase on the bed. “Get dressed, I’ll take care of Greg.”

Frederick seemed to be moving in slow motion, but he was finally returning to the action. Sam pulled the pillowcase off one of the pillows lying on the bed and used it to stop Gregory’s bleeding. He probably only had a concussion.

Then Sam picked Gregory up as carefully as he could and carried the man to the Impala. Riot looked up in interest when Sam laid Gregory on the backseat.

“Keep watch,” Sam told him and returned to the Rosswells’ room to help Frederick finish.

When he arrived, Frederick was as good as dressed and gathering everything of importance. Sam picked up two bags and threw one last look at the corpses on the ground. They had no time to get rid of the bodies, they would have to stay.

Frederick sits down next to Gregory and pulls his brother’s head in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” Frederick murmured. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, …”

The mantra followed them down the road until they were three cities further and utterly safe from being accused of any of the crimes they had committed.

“Do you have a safe place to stay somewhere?” Sam asked.

They were near Kansas now and could easily swing up to Nebraska. Neither Caitlyn nor Marty had enough space for the two hunters, but it would do long enough for Gregory to heal until the twins could hit the road again.

If they still wanted to after this encounter.

Sam had been injured so often in the past years, he hardly even blinked at a concussion anymore, he and Dean just kept on driving.

“We’ve got a house,” Frederick replied. “I don’t know what shape it’s in, but we were meaning to go check it out anyway.”

“Alright. Directions?”

Frederick led Sam to an abandoned house that was a good twenty-minute drive into the woods in the north of Kansas. It looked fairly old and was surprisingly big and in a good shape.

The entire façade of the building had been painted in a soft green. The color was starting to peel off in some places, but it was mostly intact.

“What is this place?” Sam asked after they had carried Gregory inside and let him continue resting on a sofa in the living room.

There was something off about this place that Sam couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it put him on edge. He felt like somebody was watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. He began mustering the painted walls. Elaborate landscape paintings of a forest covered the living room. The longer he looked at it, the more did he think he was seeing familiar symbols.

“It’s our great-grandmother Agatha’s house,” Frederick said. “Never met her. According to our grandmother, she was a wicked witch who should have never been allowed to have a child. As soon as Grandmother was sixteen, she left and married a nice man and had a completely normal daughter who then had us. Agatha died back in 2009 shortly before you stopped the apocalypse that almost happened and she left everything to our mother. Mom wanted to sell the house, but no deal could be made. People had unfortunate accidents as soon as they stepped into the house.”

Sam stepped closer to the entrance door, tracing over carvings in the wood. “What?”

Frederick grimaced. “That’s why we were heading here. We wanted to check it out. We thought a ghost might be haunting the building.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Sam muttered.

“No?”

“These symbols spread all over the room, they’re runes. I’m pretty sure they’re wards. Any chance your great grandmother worshipped pagan gods?”

“I don’t know. But she got super old and she was from Norway.”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Let’s track down which god is protecting this house and get them a proper offering before they kill us.”

In the end, it was quite easy to figure out which god Agatha had worshipped. Sam found her altar in the eastern kitchen window, the first to see the sun in the morning. Old, half-burned candles with a sugary sweet smell stood around a handmade clay flower pot filled with small pink flowers that appeared to be blooming although nobody was taking care of them. And right next to the flower pot stood a bowl filled with sweets.

The irony of this situation wasn’t lost on Sam.

“It’s Loki,” Sam said when he returned to the living room. “Your great grandmother was a follower of Loki.”

“That was the trickster angel, right?” Frederick asked. “The one who died? Shouldn’t this house be clean of his influence then?”

Sam shook his heads. “You can never really kill a pagan god. More than any other beings, they cling to faith. As long as someone believes in them, they exist. Gabriel might be dead, but the idea of Loki is still around.”

(He wondered what that meant for angels. They did die, expect when God or whatever interfered. Castiel had died and come back. So why did God let one of his oldest angels die?)

“Anyway, I’ll get a package of chewing gum from the car. Not his favorite, but it’s sweet and an offering.”

“You’re not going to destroy the altar?”

Frederick’s expression was neutral. He wasn’t judging Sam or implying anything. He only wanted to know why Sam wasn’t getting rid of the threat.

And honestly? Sam didn’t know why. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

“This place has pretty strong wards,” Sam said. It was true, they must have been powered by Loki. If Agatha’s life force had also been included in that, it was no wonder she had died when Gabriel did. If the twins took up residency here, offering their blood and redrawing some of the ownership-tied wards, they had a pretty protected place to stay at. It shouldn’t cost them more than a couple sweets every now and then and some new candles. “There’s a bigger advantage to keeping it.”

The twins got settled and Sam spent a couple hours exploring the house. The wards Agatha had set up were truly impressive, even more so after they had made the offering. The house itself was a pretty nice place too. Sure, it needed some fixing and a new paint job, but the amount of knowledge stored in the crammed library in what must have been Agatha’s study was astonishing. Sam would definitely take a closer look once he had the time. Since they had no food or drink, Sam went back to the car to head to the nearest grocery store and buy some supplies.

After about two days, Gregory was already up and running again - or walking. Every time Frederick even just suggested Gregory take it slow or, God forbid, brought him food to his bed, Gregory looked slightly more murderous. His injuries weren’t as bad as they had seemed, but it had scared Fred regardless. It reminded Sam a little of his childhood when he’d been deemed old enough to give first-aid but too young to hunt still and Dean or Dad had come back already half out of it and Sam had to stitch them back together. They’d always looked as if they’d come straight out of a horror movie, but nothing vital had been hurt (well, except maybe once or twice.)

Sam and Fred had cleaned up what appeared to have been a guest bedroom and settled Gregory there. To avoid going stir-crazy, they’d cleaned up the other rooms afterward. The house had electricity and warm running water and Sam was sure those had only shown up after Sam had added a lot of treats to Loki’s altar.

He might have gone a little overboard, but Sam owed the guy. He’d died for them, the whole world, when he could have certainly taken up a golden throne right next to Lucifer. As twisted as Lucifer was, killing Gabriel had hurt him and that showed how much he would have loved to have his favorite sibling by his side.

And Gabriel has said “no”.

Frederick had only glanced questioning at the mountain of candy, porn magazines, crossword puzzles, honey, and candles, but Gregory was the one to actually ask about them.

“I thought altars were all blood, dark magic and-“ Gregory moved his hands through the air in the bad imitation of a TV witch. “You know?”

“Blood is for worshippers and, in this case, the owner of the house. The stuff I brought is just a guest gift.”

Maybe not just merely a guest gift, but also a little bribery to protect the three of them as they resided here.

“So whoever offers blood owns the house?” Gregory inquired.

Sam shrugged. “Basically.”

“And non-basically?”

Right, Sam had forgotten he was talking to an ex-history student. Without further prompting, he latched into a lecture on Pagan gods, worship, and ownership rules, only halting once to give Frederick a chance to get settled comfortably when he joined them.

Caitlyn: Fred & George are okay?

Gregory: It’s Greg

Frederick: Don’t ruin my fun, bro

Gregory: Of all the names you could have picked, why did it have to be Frederick again?

Sam: @Caitlyn They are getting better

Caitlyn: Sweet. We got a couple Hunters here asking how to get phoenix feathers. Anybody got some ideas? And can I give them your number? @Sam

Sam: Sure, tell them to give me a ring and I’ll see what I can do

Frederick and Gregory were up to something. Sam didn’t just guess so, he saw the incriminating looks they shared. Sam had been in and out of their house for a month now. He’d spent two weeks there going through the books their great-grandmother had possessed, but unfortunately, those didn’t provide much information on purgatory either.

Another dead end.

After that, Sam threw himself into helping other hunters. His number of acquaintances had grown exponentially the more the word spread that one Winchester was still alive and kicking and willing to just hand over everything he knew (while the other was gone, never dead. All of them thought it, Sam knew, but they didn’t dare say it around him.).

Hunters were guarded people, they wouldn't survive otherwise. Even information was just shared sparingly, so of course, they all jumped on the opportunity. It was strange to be confronted with Hunters who worked very specialized or were just at the beginning of their careers, as far as you could call killing monsters a job.

Of course, the older ones didn’t exactly trust Sam (he did have a history filled with a lot of dangerous bullshit such as letting Lucifer out of the Cage), but he was America’s expert on everything angelic and demonic.

Even if he didn’t really feel like it. There was so much to know about heaven and hell, Sam’s active knowledge barely scratched the surface and he didn’t dare try to reach for the memories he had buried.

(The Cage hadn’t been all bad, but trauma didn’t let you pick how you’d react to any memory at all.)

But compared to everyone else, that was still more so he taught how to exorcise demons and kill angels and hoped it was enough.

“So,” Gregory said one morning. “I’m all healed up and Himari called, asking for backup, so we think it’s time to leave again.”

Sam nodded and closed his book. “Time to move on then.”

“Yeah, about that…” Gregory trailed off and turned to his brother.

Frederick pushed himself away from the wall and began walking up and down.

“Look, Sam. We don’t really have use for this place. And you’ve got Riot.”

“A car’s not a home,” Gregory added. He bent down to pet the dog, who definitely enjoyed his stay at the house more than the endless hours on the road.

Frederick pointed at his brother. “Right? And a dog needs a home and you need a space for the library in your car.”

Sam frowned, realization only dawning slowly upon him. “You can’t-“

Gregory held up has hands. “We can. Look, we still got our parents’ house and all these wards and stuff? That’s your niche. We like hunting stuff that doesn’t require enchantments and we can’t even read half of the words painted on the ceiling.”

“You can learn,” Sam insisted. “This house belonged to your great-grandmother.”

Legacy was important to Hunters. All the lives saved, the knowledge passed on – many Hunters didn’t have any blood relatives left, so their hunting partners were the ones who carried their memories.

But Frederick and Gregory didn’t know that and Sam struggled to find the right words.

Frederick shrugged. “We never even met her, Sam. This house might as well belong to a stranger. We’ll, of course, come visit and crash here whenever, but otherwise? You need a place to search for your brother. Take it.”

It took another week for them to wear Sam down, and even then they wouldn’t leave until Sam had gone to the nearest supermarket and returned with new offerings for their pagan god and finally bled over the altar.

Frederick had looked smug the whole time while Gregory sent Sam’s new address to their mutual friends and acquaintances.

It didn’t even take a week for the first person to show up at his doorstep.

Sam had always liked doing things with his hands, repairing broken items, stitching up shirts. A lot of handiwork had come out of necessity, but there was also something soothing attached to it all. Over the course of the next weeks, Sam drove to the construction market about every day until the cashiers there greeted him by name.

He bought paint and tools and wood and started to repair the house where it was damaged and touch it up where it just didn’t look all right.

He added his books to the library/study and organized the artifacts Agatha had left lying around pretty much everywhere. The room that once must have belonged to the twins’ grandmother was turned into a guest room with two beds, as was another storage room, a corner of the basement, and the attic.

When Sam was finally satisfied, too much time had passed already, but Kevin Tran, while tired and exhausted, was not bitter and welcomed the change of scenery.

Fact was, a lot of Hunters distrusted Sam Winchester. He had a reputation that made them uneasy and the stories haunting him made him out to be much less human than he ought to be. Those Hunters relied on Garth to collect info for them, give them back up and so on. They pointed the new Hunters they found in his direction and Garth-

Well, Garth gave them Sam’s number.

Old school Hunters relied on old and proven methods, they would not suddenly think of recording exorcisms on their phones or starting a Supernatural Wikipedia. These New Age Hunters, as they liked to scoff, didn’t know how much the world had changed.

And they were right in that assessment.

When your first hunt involved leviathans and demons, angels stealing people who returned as mere shells, then you didn’t miss the times when the world was straightforward and didn’t include more than ten types of monsters.

“Hello, Agent Mercury? One of your field agents is claiming our body here is part of an FBI investigation-“

“The heads, Sam! It only leaves the heads!”

“-and the Park Rangers really-“

“So like, they steal from blood banks, but otherwise they’re vegan?”

“The military must be really desperate if they try to recruit people off the police.”

“Hypothetically, if a werewolf and a vampire had a kid together-“

“Winchester! Holy Christ, you won’t believe-“

“It’s Kevin,” the prophet interrupted Penny. “Sam’s making dinner.”

Silence. Kevin had to stop himself from laughing out loud.

“Oh. Hi, Kevin! How’s it going?”

“Good, but it’s been busy. How can Agatha’s help you today? Need some spells to get rid of a wicked witch or brain for your local zombie population?”

“Zombies…?” Penny trailed off, sounding unsure. Kevin imagined her shaking her head. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Do you guys know anything about a spell or a monster going after the blood of two drained lambs, the liver of a lion, and the eyes of a monkey? We got a bizarre case here in a zoo.”

Kevin glanced at the clock. He wasn’t going to work on the tablet anymore today and if he could help it, Sam wouldn’t shut himself away in his study/purgatory lore cave.

“Yeah, we can do some research. We’ll ring as soon as we got something.”

Soon after word had gotten out that Sam had settled somewhere, Mackey showed up at his doorstep, only Himari in tow. Penny, her better half in Himari’s own words, was apparently visiting family up north.

Sam didn’t buy the lie, but he saw no point in questioning her.

“Oh, man, Sam. I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s like Roadhouse and Bobby’s in one,” Mackey said.

Sam smiled and looked around. It really was starting to look like a proper place for hunters to crash at. “Not enough books and dirt for Bobby’s yet.”

Marty laughed and knocked his beer against Sam’s. “True enough. I swear the cleanest I ever saw Bobby’s was when your Daddy had dropped you off at his place again.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but still managed to smile softly. “That’s only ‘cause Bobby made me and- made us clean to keep us busy and away from the books depicting torture.”

“Oh, yeah. That sounds like Bobby!”

Himari, who up until then had only been nursing her tea silently, spoke up for the first time since she had stepped into Sam’s house. “What is the Roadhouse and Bobby’s?”

Mackey's cheerful expression fell and Sam too, who had been making all kinds of calls over the past weeks and should be used to it by now damn it, couldn’t stop his throat from closing up.

“That was before your time, kid,” Mackey replied. “The Roadhouse was the Hunter equivalent to a community center – a place to recover after or before a hunt. I swear, nobody ever managed to talk me out of a hunt before without even saying a word but Ellen. And Bobby was the meanest son of a bitch you could ever meet. You vaguely describe him your latest crazy, and he’d call you back within a day to tell you what the hell you’re facing and how to kill it. Also our go-to man if the authorities came calling. Without the two of them, the community’s shot to hell. Garth’s been picking up some slack, but he ain’t got time to teach anyone… That reminds me.”

Mackey picked his backpack up from the ground and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for – a dirty sheet of paper apparently – and held it up victoriously.

“Here,” he said and gave it to Sam. “I got into contact with a couple Old Timers. Not sure if they’re on your contact list already, but they offered to help out with the huge influx of newbies so you’re not stuck handling all their questions.”

Sam scanned the list. A few names stuck out to him, but others he was only vaguely aware of or didn’t know at all.

“Thanks, Marty. I’ll give them a ring.”

When the Hillains asked for Sam’s help, he expected a little more “Could you be our back-up?” and less “Can we leave the kids with you for the week?” but Sam agreed anyway.

It was certainly an experience to have three kids running around for a week, but not one he minded. He had babysat couple times as a teenager to earn some extra cash, and the experience was familiar enough.

Besides, all three of them loved Riot and the dog was more than just happy about the extra attention.

Irv Franklin liked to think he was as good a man as a Hunter could be. Of course, he didn’t have utter faith in Sam Winchester, everybody knew the Winchesters messed around with Heaven and Hell and a whole lot of other things that shouldn’t be touched, but the kid was also Bobby’s kid.

And, really, everybody who actually cared about Bobby knew those two Winchester brats had been his whole world.

Tracy hadn’t wanted to come to Winchester’s place – called Agatha’s for some unfathomable reason – and Irv couldn’t blame her. He had told her she could stay in the motel, but she had decided to meet the man the demons had killed her family for.

From the outside, the house looked comfortable, not as militant as Irv had expected. Sam was kneeling on the porch, painting something on the windowsill. As soon as he spotted Irv and Tracy, he stood up.

“Irv! Good to see you.”

“Right back at you, Winchester,” Irv said and followed Sam inside.

The kid led Irv and Tracy into the kitchen and took a couple beers out of the fridge. “We only got beer and water right now,” he said apologetically.

Irv wondered who exactly we were, but didn’t ask. He had heard rumors about prophets, and everybody who went after demons knew that hell had been in an uproar lately. Sometimes it was better if you didn’t know anything.

“I did look into the killings you described,” Sam continued. “Couldn’t find anything directly, but the books in the living room contain everything I’ve got on ritualistic murders. Feel free to look through them, just don’t run off with them. One of the upstairs’ rooms is already occupied, but you can sleep downstairs in the basement if you want.”

Irv reached for one of the beers on the kitchen table. ��Thanks, kid.”

They left two days later.

“He’s not really what I expected,” Tracy admitted carefully.

Maybe she could start to heal properly now.

Irv grimaced. “Winchesters rarely are.”

Sam’s study was a bit of a mess. Papers covered half the floor and whole books the other. Kevin kind of wanted to sigh in frustration, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Instead, he sat down on the ground next to Sam.

“Is everything alright?” Kevin asked, already knowing the answer.

Sam laughed bitterly, his ink-stained hands still brushing through Riot’s fur. “No, nothing’s alright. Just look at me, Kev, what am I doing? It’s been almost a year, and I still haven’t found a way to save him.”

Sam didn’t need to say out loud who he was talking about, it was as clear as day.

“I have only been wasting my time trying to- to-“

“Keep over two dozen hunters alive, researching about fifteen different things at the same time with more dedication than I ever put into my term papers despite my mom?” Kevin said drily. “Give yourself a break, Sam. You’re already doing more than humanly possible.”

“But it’s not enough!”

Sam’s outburst was not unexpected but that didn’t make it any more pleasant.

Kevin was used to it, though.

They kept themselves together well enough around others, but some things needed more than the duct tape they stuck onto their wounds.

“I want to visit my mom,” Kevin said into their silence. “I haven’t left the house in months and I think it’ll be safe enough. Just a quick trip. One last time.”

“Alright,” Sam agreed quietly.

Maybe this was healing. (Maybe it was giving up.)

Sam would never know.

Lazarus rose once more.

(Rinse. Rise. Repeat.)

#spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #kevin tran #supernatural #fanfic #I AM STILL SALTY AND I HAVE CONSUMED 3 SEASONS MORE SINCE

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maranello · 3 years

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I do agree with you, pretty sad that Ferrari hasn't been involved. If anything, *whispers it* I"m feeling a little underwhelmed that after the engine upgrade we're still nowhere near a win. Still, the team was very honest about their expectations, but I guess delusion is part of the tifosi experience, and it sounded like some of these tracks would favor us. I mean, I didn't realistically expect wins, it's more like we're doing better than McLaren which was what mattered, but not close enough to the top to bring something more exciting than P4-P6. And frankly, I just hate that McLaren won at Monza, Alpine got a win and Ferrari haven't, probably won't get a win this season.

For now, I'm just keeping up with this drama for the sake of the ~banter, but in the end, whatever way this goes it will feel a bit of "oh no, anyway", it has no effect on Ferrari whatsoever, so I'm just ready to consume the reactions and continue looking forward to next year.

it's not sad tbh the amount of clownery and discourse this season....I am glad we are not staining our name upon this (though, perhaps, the shit vibes are BECAUSE Ferrari isn't involved </3)

but yeah, I didn't expect the new PU to really take us to a win tbh! (I hoped. but I mean. yeah. with you on feeling salty that McLaren won in OUR house and how even Alpine got a win and we haven't) however, I still think we should be excited about the new PU! It has consistently put us higher up and although we didn't have more podiums and wins this season, I think there's something to be said about how we are performing better consistently compared to last year - bc that's what's going to matter when (yes, when) our car gets better

PU4 and the second half of this season, you can see how Ferrari is basically dedicating the rest of this time to test out parts for next year's car and it's very sexy of them to do some early ;) testing ;) since we're not allowed to private test anymore. I'm just going to be here watching over our red cars and how they are improving bit :) by :) bit :)))

#and yes.#oh no! anyway #is a mood #maranello.ask

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periakman · 4 years

Text

Worldbuilding June 2020

14. What do people eat in your world? As mentioned, corn is a major crop, and thus a lot of places use it as a base in their flour. The excess is often turned into oil, which is also used for cooking, although most of it is taken up by an item tax. Due to Kesterline’s large range, food varies per region, and there has yet to be truly good transportation, so it remains local. Fishing is incredibly common for entire swaths of Kesterline, as it is surrounded by a great amount of ocean (on all sides, even). As mentioned before with the economy, unless you live near meat farms, or are rich, people will often eat dried meat or jerky of whatever is local, which for most coastal cities and towns means salted fish. Just as a reminder, here are some of the fantastical animals in Kesterline It should be noted that while fishing is accessible almost all around Kesterline, deep sea fishing is rare, and nigh inaccessible. Whales are nearly hunted to extinction within the borders of Kesterline, as only a few areas can host their pods, and they are often hunted to low numbers before being allowed to rise again. Throkes, a non deep sea creature that is a long serpent made of thick fat predominantly resides in the north of Kesterline, alongside the walruses and seals, and it is often farmed for its fat and meat. Another Kesterline unique creature are the Worbles, which are also in the north, and are also farmed for their fat and meat. Said fat is used for food preservation but also making oils for candles and cooking, as well as being turned into meat. Meat is also hunted and farmed across the world, and can be broken down into local farms that would usually be breeding animals we find familiar, or similar stranger creatures that we don’t. There are also species of animals that are considered mammoth, such as the grizzly tiger, or mammoth fox. These are rarely hunted for meat on a large scale, but small towns will often kill and eat them if they end up aggressive towards the town. Some are also overhunted, but as it stands, in a world with no guns, and magic being rare, overhunting is a bit of an uphill battle that doesn’t quite match what we see with overhunting. It is instead reflective of the slow removal of environments that are palatable. Kesterline’s population is not particularly fast growing, but it is still growing, and often new towns will sprout up, either in reaction to corrupt power in a nearby town, overpopulation, or a noble wishing to have more power themselves. Crops, like corn, are varied, but of note is that they are not uniform. Perhaps in a hundred years the crop strains will dwindle, but for now there is an abundance of variety, and with magic and strange experiences, the diversity can be quite interesting. As an example of some food that exists (and could have been talked about in flora, but I’ve only developed it now): --Breeds of pinecones that are edible, and usually used as a thickener for soups, or as a bitter salve --45 recognized strains of corn, 3 of which are the majorly dominated and the most used and consumed. The colors range from yellow, brown, and vibrant orange. -- over 1,000 known strains of apples, some unique ones being ones that produce fruit year round (tiny, sour fruit often mashed and fed to animals, or used for fertilizer), dark green apples with a small amount of capsaicin in it, mammoth apples, which are strains of the apple made to grown larger than average (which is something that was bred for in real life, so some mammoth apples cover the range of sizes we see as normal... and also apples three times the size of that. Those trees are often considered quite finicky to maintain). --Tubers/Root crops! Root crops have a bit of a bad reputation in Kesterline, which is not entirely undeserved. There are chunks of land in Kesterline that are “poisoned.” At first, that means nothing grows, but nowadays the poison only matters for the roots. Things produced surface level usualyl can’t disseminate the poison (although brief pickling/boiling is a common cooking tactic), but tubers and root crops often are exposed directly to it. Some areas will utilize them in their cooking, but there’s still a kneejerk assumption in most of the country that anything from the ground cannot be eaten (and to be fair, many of the tubers and root crops, especially with the increased strain variation, do have natural poisonous qualities, especially potatoes, that need to be cooked out). --Tomatoes are the second most populous crop of Kesterline, although it’s not a close competition at all. Once you cross into areas that are incredibly warm all season, tomatoes start to become a common cooking supplement. As usual, there are multiple strains of tomatoes, one of which is called a Warty Tomato, with a slightly tougher, bulbous exterior, with a pulp that can either be dried out and salted, cut and put into soups to give a tomato-y flavor, or eaten raw. It is a naturally salty, savory tomato. --Tea leaves are also produced, and is often the bushtree a rich person grows in their backyard just for the artisanal funsies. There are thirteen unique breeds, four of which were specifically bred for looking as treelike as possible, with no regards for how good the tea is, and is a common adornment for noble gardens. I could keep rambling about food, but tbh I need this to end, and as I haven’t eaten breakfast and I am STARVING. As a final note, this is all things I decided as I was writing GS, and since food is a plot point at several points, I definitely want to go back and edit it to show off more unique foods than my default love of cheese and sandwiches.

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ohoshi · 4 years

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omg first i need to talk about nct at song festival (gayo daechukjae) umm first of all mark and taeyongs rap was so good but ofc we all knew they would kill it. and then in nct U class, teacher taeyong looked so good...the way he bit that pointer stick thing in the beginning was so sexc (and the hair and the glasses ahdsfasjf) 😳 but also sungchans rap in that?? i was not expecting that but why am i even surprised anymore.. and also misfit live?? i loved nct's school uniform concept too for some reason ahahaha

and then xiaojun in resonance!! wow yes go shine xj!!! (also idk why but i found it so funny when it was doyoung's turn after xj, but xj was kinda blocking dy (who was really walking with a PURPOSE) so dy lightly pushed him out of the way) and then omg shotaro!! offstage he is so 😊 but damn in hard carry he was so good!! ahh and then also the thing where all the kpop artists at gayo daechukjae sang that song was so cute (i smiled so hard when nct came up 🥺)

yea for my job situation i think it will be okay, i talked to some people i know/mentors about it too and i think things will work out...they always do in the end right? 😊 now about anime LOL this is making me wanna start/rewatch an anime now hahahah! honestly i kind of have phases where i alternate between kdramas and animes, but i havent rly watched anime much lately besides haikyuu (which i was also surprised was still airing (but it's only season 2 so far?)). kpop (aka NCT) has been consuming my life lmao but im here for it 😂

weightlifting fairy was also my first kdrama!! yes i can totally give u some kdrama recs! besides the ones i mentioned before (which are most of my top ones), i also liked chicago typewriter, marriage not dating (i love the fake relationship trope hahaha), dinner mate, sky castle (it's kinda intense but it's so good and an iconic kdrama), cheer up, another miss oh, kingdom (if you like zombie things)...i heard startup is good and i want to watch it soon too! also i continued watching more of uncanny counter these past few days and i love it (but it's ongoing so no binging)

okay now svt: i watched some of your recs and youre so right all their choreos are so satisfying?! i also actually agree with you about black on black, i liked black on black and it was cool but it only featured like 5 members lmao and in the svt choreos it does feel like all of them are featured in some way in each performance? plus their choreos are just so great to watch!! also i've had left and right stuck in my head since i watched it LOL but i agree it's objectively better than dynamite (not an army though; also pls nobody come at us for this lmaoo)

also super random but can you tell me who is the one in the red/purple plaid shirt in the svt home dance practice?? i am kinda attracted by his dance moves LOL and i havent learned names yet 😭 i will continue watching all ur svt recs though hehehe and update you on the status of my fangirling :))

omg wait also i would never have guessed that you're not an english speaker just from these messages!! how did you know that i was prob a native speaker haha (i guess *technically* cantonese is my first language, but then i learned english in school so now i'm obviously more native in that lol and english is the only language i can read/write in)

OMGGF IKR as a multi stan i really enjoyed the rap collab especially because i really love monsta x's rap line (esp i.m!!! his rapping skill 😍) and of course mark and taeyong!!!! 😭 our boys 😭 our golden rappers 😭 SLAYED IT! omg the nct u got me 😳 taeyong looked so good???? wtf? and also sungchan? damn that boy keeps surprising me! the interesting part to me was when one member(johnny if i remember correctly) bumped into taeyong but it was done on purpose and how he uhhh kinda shook his body and his head but it all looked so cool and he never stopped rapping!!! love how they all 'performed' misfit manifesting wild teenagers in school (as they are tbh) IT WAS SO FUN AND COOL!!!

XIAOJUN!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS SO!!!!!! GOOD!!!!!!! THE CONFIDENCE??? THE STAGE PRESENCE????? XIAOJUN CENTER???? XIAOJUN BEING RELEVANT????? i live 😭 he was so good he looked so good i was so happy and i'm so proud of him 😭 from here the only way to go is up! i hope he keeps surprising us! and omg i haven't noticed that part when doyoung pushed him bc he blocked him?? and i just rewatched it and it looks funny 🤣 but they held everything professionally 😌 no surprises there 😌

OH MY GOD THE HARD CARRY PERFORMANCE!!!!!!!!! first of all our boy shotaro DAMN 😳 he looked so good you couldn’t say that he just debuted a few months ago!! such a dancing machine! (but honestly i am not surprised because in make a wish he was rly good and he debuted as a dancer i expected from him to be good™ as he is!) and i love the duality od him <3 yk that kind of idol that you want to protect at all cost but the next second they're the one you seek protection from? yeH sign me uP! and don't even get me started on hyunjin, juyeon and moonbin!!!!! but i mean all 3 of them are main dancers of course they would look good™ 😌 (yeah shotaro performed with 3 main dancers of 3 different groups i mean the honor??????)

the end of the festival was so wholesome! It was a serotonin boost and me too i also smiled the whole time! so cute 😭 and ot23 were cutiesssss

yes! everything will work out in the end! don't stress about it!<3 oh haikyuu only has 2 seasons? wtf hsgsjsgs ok then i just watched when it had like 13 episodes, WHEN IT FIRST CAME OUT that's when i watched it lmao

OMG OK I HAVE WRITTEN DOWN ALL OF THESE DRAMAS (and from the previous ask) IN MY NOTES SO FAR im mostly excited about the fake relationship one 👀 i love fake relationship trope, too 🤧 oh no binging?? is that your thing?? usually i love to wait for the show to finish airing and then i binge watch it in a few days (or one day depends how busy i am)

SEVENTEEN!!!!: yeah all of their choreos are so satisfying (pointing this out one more time) they always pay attention to details (for example in home, bc you're familiar with it, they even choreograph the hands and pay attention to them while most of the other kpop choreos very often freestyle the whole arms sjagaj) here's a fun fact abt svt that makes me love them so much agsgsj: they're self produced! they produce their own music and they even come up with their own choreos!! (of course not on their own, woozi is a producer but he's not making songs on his own he coproduces them with [a producer name bc i guess that's irrelevant but if you’re curious: bumzu], they come up with their own choreo (to be precise, hoshi does! he is 1/2 main dancers in group and he is the main choreographer! he doesn't do everything on his own of course, he gets help from the rest of the performance team (which is a svt subunit consisted of their 2 main and 2 lead dancers: hoshi, dino, the8, jun) and of course some other infamous kpop choreography teams) and i think that, by now, all the members were credited at least once for the lyrics

I'M SO GLAD YOU HAVE LEFT AND RIGHT STUCK IN YOUR HEAD HAGSJSSGSG but i mean of course you would it's soo good and soo catchy (yeahhh no worries, this army has already gotten minor hate for having controversial opinions™ and for criticising her faves so idc anymore 💁🏻‍♀️ it's my opinion as a dancer and i stand by it, even can't you see me by txt is better than dynamite so literally 3 dance performance were better!!!! in a way!!!! and neither of the 3 won!!! yes i am salty!!!!!)

the guy in the red/purple shirt (the center guy when they do the 3 dances for the first time right??) IS DINO!!!! he's the maknae and 2/2 main dancers in svt so!!! of course you would be attracted by his moves!!!!!! JSGSJSN i'm curious to see if you end up staning svt and biasing dino hsfsjsgsha

CANTONESE IS YOUR FIRST LANGUAGE? damn i thought you couldn’t get more interesting here's a dumb question: can you understand xiaojun, hendery and lucas without titles??? not that i would know if they ever speak cantonese in front of the camera for i don't know the difference between chinese dialects</3

#thank u for saying you wouldve never guessed that english wasnt my first language #that makes me happy!!#also your english is so good that's how i knew you were a native speaker lmao #ss20

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someonefromseoul · 4 years

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Fuck Me.

Hello. I don’t know who or what I’m directing this to but I’ll just pretend there’s someone actually reading this. Temptation is a strong fundamental desire that doesn’t always have our best interest. Like that time you look in the mirror wishing you haven't had that donut for lunch, or that other time when you turn and toss, only to find yourself not being able to sleep at 4am from the nap you had earlier that day.

I feel like shit right now. I had oily ass bacon for breakfast, cup noodles for brunch, pepperoni pizza for lunch, ice cream cone for dessert, almond soy bean milk as my “work drink”, only to transition my day into a nap.

I feel bloated as fuck and my pimples are having the time of their lives, meeting new friends and such.

So this only leads me to my usual routine of self hatred and disgust for a solid hour, drotting down what the rest of my day will look like just to fool myself to thinking I’m productive, and get on Tumblr to waste more time complaining about my day!

Okay, but here’s the deal. I really do want to get better again. I stopped working out ever since my gym closed down from that fucking coronavirus (yes, I am that spoiled and self centered only to be complaining about my gym closing during this time of crisis) which has been a couple of months now.

I had diet fillers on my chin area to get rid of my chin fat right before the quarantine. That was a fucking waste of money since my double chin is back.

Anyway, my point is that I want to be somewhat sane again. My mind is literally going crazy over being stuck at home and I clearly don’t love my body enough judging by how I’ve been treating it.

I put a face mask earlier today. That’s a change. I’m going to work out starting NOW. In like a few hours. And I’m going to document the progress and process because I want to see the change and actually hold myself accountable if I don’t go through with this.

So this is the plan.

1. I am 51.8kg (114.2 pounds) right now. My goal weight is 48kg (105 pounds). Okay, so basically my goal is to lose around 10 pounds.

2. I just started an art instagram. Try to post three times a week. I want to have 10 followers by the end of May. And NOT by asking my limited amount of friends to follow. I want to connect with real strangers who are really there for my art.

3. My fucked up skin. Let’s try to clear that out as soon as possible as well. I know I have oily skin and a huge part of that comes down to what I consume. Let’s fucking please stay away from oily and salty food. Drinks permitted is only water, tea, and sometimes alcohol.

4. Speaking of alcohol, try to stay away from that. Which I’m doing a good job of these days because I’m “social distancing” (no friends). I’m going out tomorrow though but let’s really try to keep it like max 3 drinking nights per month. MAX. preferably once to none.

5. You can never single out alcohol when you’re a smoker. Hi, hello, I’m a smoker. I’ll write a post going more in depth about my smoking journey. Long story short, I’ve been smoking since August of 2013. So like 7 years already. I genuinely don’t know why I started it. Actually that’s a lie, I got into it because I thought it looked cool and I wanted to fit in. Sad, sad weakling I was. Anyway, I’m going to QUIT. I literally say this like merry Christmas to the point my friends just roll their eyes at me whenever I say this. Like, let’s really try to make this a reality instead of this having to be that time I cried wolf again. LIKE PLEASE. For yourself, man. You know you’re getting old and it’s not like you have any more health to spare.

6. Work on my art project. You know which one I mean. I want to keep it on the down low. To roughly plan, I want to work on my portfolio around June July and August. but by June, let’s focus on instagram, enhancing my drawing skills from proko, and this personal art project I’m not going to specifically go into because it’s confidential. Let’s call it Arty. So yeah, finish Arty.

7. My relationships. Mind you, I’ve never seen a therapist because I’m not financially independent and it’s a taboo subject to bring up in Asian culture. At least with my family. So no, I haven’t been professionally diagnosed, but who needs a doctor when we have google, right? So to preface, this is not a legitimate claim I’m making. But I strongly think and believe that I have anxiety; especially social anxiety and an avoidant personality disorder. I definitely deal with SOMETHING-I do plan on going to a therapist the moment I get the chance to, which is hopefully, soon. Anyway, getting back on topic. I want to work on my relationships with my friends and family because I’ve literally been in my shell for the past couple of months. Avoiding people at all costs. Not healthy at all.

8. My mental health. Probably the most important one. If this was a meat house and I could grade my health, I would give it a B+. Definitely not a S, not exactly an A either-but on the fence between A and B. Not quite A- but more of a B+. I don't have any serious health issues but I’m not great either. I feel slightly uncomfortable when breathing, my mind is foggy, and I think I might have hemorrhoids soon. Literally keeps me up at night because it frightens me-I constantly flex my butthole just in case things might peep out (sorry for the TMI but this is my fucking blog so deal) (me still pretending like someone’s actually still reading this shit post) I lose sleep over it, don’t even get me started. Anyway, if my body health is a B+, my mental health is probably around a B-. I don’t think it’s around the C level, but it’s definitely below average (average being a B). It’s at the verge of either becoming average or enter into the C level. A or S is obviously out of reach with my potential right now. But I want to get to an A; possibly to a S some day. Some day. A girl can dream. Anyway, how I want to go about this is to keep writing on this blog. Because I have a fake ass personality, I literally hide my real self to everybody. Kinda psycho like that. At least this little spot can be my safe space where I can get all my genuine shit out. To be serious for 2 seconds, I think I’m fake to people these days because I don’t feel comfortable being completely myself. My self esteem really plummeted after I graduated high school. I’ve been shushing myself internally too-shaming myself about how stupid and weird I sound. I’ve been trying to press down all my negative judgements and thoughts because I didn't want to spread that kind of energy to other people which made me be fake positive all the time. That can be really fucking suffocating, guys. Those of you who know what I mean say I.

Anyway, I want to find my color again. I think I’ve been shushing and shaming myself for so long, I don't even know who I am anymore. Hopefully writing like this helps. And apparently physically working out does as well. Let’s try to aim everyday, maybe a lazy day per week.

Side note-Kakaotalk keeps spamming me about the sakura flowers and how beautiful it is, suggesting me to go see it. Um, hello. Can you stop harassing me with these insensitive messages? Some people don’t have friends to go with. And it’s quarantine season? Are you dumb?

9. My looks. which goes under self care as well. I’m not gonna lie, I think I’m a fairly okay looking girl. I’m going to change my makeup style because after not putting on makeup for so long and looking back at my old photos, I’ve seen my bare face for so long, I grew fresh pair of eyes to see how I REALLY looked prior to this quarantine. And I finally got what people meant by “your makeup looks obnoxious.” Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE makeup. I’ve loved makeup ever since I was a sophomore in high school. I follow many of the beauty gurus (how they used to call it back in the days. I think people call them beauty influencers or makeup artists now) from youtube and Sephora was my second home. My broke ass owns like majority of the urban decay naked palettes in exchange for eating kimchi and eggs for weeks with my poor college student self in exchange. Poor college student with a BEAT makeup look though.

Anyway, the point I want to get across is that I respect and love ANY form of self expression. There is no such thing as too much or too less (is that even a word) makeup as long as YOU feel good in it. I personally did and I enjoyed my extra caked face. But not anymore. Maybe on some occasions, but I just don’t feel like that’s me anymore. So I need a new make up look, and I literally want new clothes. I hate my freaking outfits. Going to invest in some soon.

I can’t really think of anything else. I want to go in further with some of the topics I’ve tackled today but I think that’s enough journal writing for today. If I think of anything else, I can always update later. I just fucking pray I don't get hemorrhoids. I don’t have it now but I’m just so paranoid because I literally sit down 25/8 and apparently sitting for an extended period of time continuously can cause hemorrhoids. And for some reason I keep feeling like I’m going to get it soon. Like my butthole low-key feels a little weird at times. Hopefully I’m okay.

#journal #selfcare #goingcrazy #self reflection #hate myself #thoughts #plans #life

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jbuffyangel · 5 years

Text

The Good Soldier: Arrow 7x19 Review (Spartan)

Uhhhh....

Let’s dig in...

John Diggle

It has taken seven years and 157 episodes, but we are finally getting John Diggle’s backstory and IT’S JUICY.

Diggle and Oliver procured an A.R.G.U.S. vault drive during a run in with Virgil. For the life of me I cannot remember that guy’s connection to Emiko and her super villain organization, so I’m just slotting him in the “henchman” category. Does that work for everyone? Fabulous. Moving on.

Unfortunately, Felicity is unable to hack the protocols protecting the drive. Feel free to roll your eyes. A drive Felicity Smoak can’t hack? Please.

She does, however, recognize who created the protocols – the Department of Defense, or Arrow’s fake version which is the Defense Intelligence Agency.

Source: paigeOTA

John says something like, “Hey I know a guy.” OH YOU DO? John knows a guy at the Department of Defense? Not just any guy, but a GENERAL.

Gee, Diggle this information would have been super handy all the times Team Arrow has been fighting ARMIES like Slade and the Mirakuru soldiers, Ra’s Al Ghul and the League, or pretty much any bad guy to grace Arrow’s screen during May sweeps.

But okay, Season 7 he’s coughing up this info. Great. Helpful. Thanks big guy.

John is super nervous prior to the meeting with said General and even Oliver is wondering, “Dude what’s up with you?” So obviously this is an authority figure for Diggle, which means parent of some kind. This is all, but confirmed when General Stewart starts criticizing John’s career choices. Oh yeah, this guy is definitely a parent.

General Stewart is Diggle’s stepfather. Get it? Stewart as in John Stewart aka the Green Lantern. It’s completely okay if you missed that detail. I was about 15 minutes into the episode before I put that puzzle piece together.

General Stewart: I’m sorry to say you’ve lost your way.

I like this guy. Not for nothing, but “lost” is how I would also describe John the last couple seasons of Arrow. The more evolved and independent Oliver becomes the more adrift John becomes. Sure, he ditched A.R.G.U.S. to keep Lyla safe (Thank goodness. That storyline was terrible), but it doesn’t mean the General is wrong about his stepson. John needs direction outside of Oliver Queen and he’s been searching for it for awhile now.

Diggle: I left to protect my family and that’s not something you would understand, is it sir?

SHOTS FIRED! Daaaaaamn. Diggle is extra salty about this guy. What gives?

The Ninth Circle steals Archer from Smoak Tech (shiiiiiiiit), but General Stewart’s DIA soldiers save Felicity and Alena. Stewart is aware there’s a Ninth Circle mole inside A.R.G.U.S., so he’s been tracking their activity which led them to Smoak Tech headquarters aka the loft. The drive contained a list of DIA assets, which is why Emiko stole Archer. She’s planning on using the program to track them down and gain access to their intel.

Alright, that’s enough bad guy plot. Let’s get down to the goodies. Diggle is super pissed step daddy didn’t share his wealth of information, but Stewart argues it was classified. Oliver is basically a family counselor this entire episode and he slides in between to break up the tension. It’s hilarious.

Source: paigeOTA

Diggle leaves in a huff.

Source: paigeOTA

This is a theme throughout the episode. John Thomas is quite huffy. Oliver finally gets a chance to ask if there is any reason why John failed to mention during the last seven years that he has a stepfather at the DIA, particularly since he’s been up Oliver’s ass about honesty. But Oliver says it in a much nicer way.

This is why I love this man.

Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

He’s not a hypocrite. John never spilling the stepdad details over a glass of vodka is hinky and Oliver knows it. However, he’s not going to rub Diggle’s face in it because Oliver also understands he’s told much bigger lies through the course of their friendship. Oliver makes many mistakes, sometimes repeatedly, but it makes him an incredibly compassionate person.

SO HERE’S THE TEA. Stewart was John’s father’s best friend and commanding officer. An op went bad and John’s father stayed behind to hold off insurgents, saving the whole unit in the process. Stewart survived and Diggle’s father didn’t. John blames Stewart for his father’s death. He believes Stewart, as commanding officer, should have been the one to stay behind. AND THEN six months later, Stewart married John’s mother.

Excuse me, where has this soapy goodness been for the last seven years? The Young & the Restless writers are taking notes y’all! As @callistawolf pointed out this sounds a lot like Diggle’s history with Carly, his brother Andy’s wife. Diggle may hate his stepfather for marrying his best friend’s wife, but he kind of did the same thing with Carly. Sure, he didn’t marry her, but they definitely had a relationship. It seems this behavior runs in the Diggle family. John was always very uncomfortable with Carly being Andy’s widow and this backstory certainly brings another level of understanding why he felt that way.

Stewart is a total hard ass too, which doesn’t help his relationship with John or Andy very much. He focused on running “Spartan” survival drills with the boys and by the time John turned 18 he couldn’t wait to leave home. The whole nod to Spartan is interesting. This might be the first time we are given any background for why John’s helmet looks like a Spartan warrior. Felicity anointed Diggle with the code name, because she is Queen, but I think John was involved in designing the initial suit with Cisco. So, the overall Spartan look would have come from him and General Stewart is why.

Emiko kidnaps Diggle and General Stewart and thus they join the prestigious line of kidnapping OTA and their parents.

Source: ebett

This almost feels like parental initiation on this show. You can’t bond with your kid until you’ve been tied up by a mad man or woman in this case. Moira and Mama Smoak send their sympathies General.

Source: ebett

Dante tortures Diggle to get some codes out of Stewart and he folds pretty quick seeing his son in pain. Stewart being willing to do anything to keep John Diggle safe is quite an endearing quality and it makes me feel all the feels. What can I say? I like this guy.

Dante wants access to a secret DIA experimental weapon called CYGNUS X-1. It’s genetically engineered bacteria which can consume the byproduct of nuclear fission or as Felicity explained, “It’s a biological weapon that can literally eat through anything. That’s terrifying.” Listen, if she’s scared then I’m scared. Where Felicity Smoak goes so goes my nation.

Oliver: Archer. They are going to use the intel they get from the assets to locate the DNA of the people involved with CYGNUS X-1.

Nothing Oliver said sounds good,

but I’m only half paying attention to the bad guy plot, because I am way more focused on Oliver dropping the daddy bombshell, which he does after finding Diggle brooding about his father. Superhero Jesus to the rescue! John’s father didn’t die saving everyone. He died because he was negligent and took two marines with him. The reason the rest of the unit survived was because of John Stewart. He was the real hero.

Again, this is quite reminiscent of Diggle’s relationship with Andy. Maybe Stewart and John’s father weren’t biological brothers, but they were best friends just like Oliver and Diggle. So, they were brothers all the same. There seems to be a generational thread of the good brother and the bad brother in the Diggle family. One we find that continues in the flash forwards.

Stewart: I know you might not feel the same way, but you will always be a son to me.

Felicity is able to stop Emiko from using Archer, but she’s still able to steal the weapon. John confronts his stepfather with the truth after the mission is over. Diggle cannot understand why Stewart let John hate him for all these years. And the answer is simple – because that’s what parents do. General Stewart didn’t want to take the memory of his father away from John. Diggle believed his father was a hero, so he became one. Stewart believes the lie made Diggle who he is, but John disagrees.

Diggle: If I’m a hero it’s all because of you, sir.

The Stewart last name is no accident. The man who made John Diggle a hero has the same last name as one of the greatest heroes in DC history. If John ever truly wanted to honor the General he could change his last name and become John Stewart,

but I doubt we’ll ever see that happen nor do I think it’s necessary. John will always be Diggle. Our Diggle doesn’t need a ring because he’s is already a hero.

Source: @oliverqsmoak

John calling General Stewart “sir” is no accident either. Diggle, always the good soldier, has refused that courtesy the entire episode. But now he softens his voice; his eyes filled with tears, and calls the man who made him a hero, “sir.” John is showing respect, but also trust. He finally sees his stepfather for who he truly is. Diggle knows General Stewart is not only a good soldier, but a wonderful father. This “sir” carries more significant than “I love you” for these two men.

The gifts General Stewart gave Diggle go beyond merely survival. John is a good solider because that’s how General Stewart raised him to be. Just like Diggle’s father would want him to be.

The two hug and part with a deeper bond than the one they had before – a tradition when it comes to OTA and their parents. “Call your mother” is probably the best exit line of any character on Arrow. I loved it. Ernie Hudson was an absolute delight.

Unfortunately, we are seven years in. I’d rather have this episode in Season 7 than not at all, but there is an element of too little too late. “Spartan” makes sense in Season 1 or Season 2 at the latest. Felicity’s backstory episode was in Season 3 and I thought that was late.

It’s hard to understand why Arrow waited so long to give us this story. The only reason I can think of is DC. They have a long history of shooting down John Diggle storylines because they intend to use them somewhere else. The Suicide Squad springs to mind. David Ramsey has been very honest about DC’s refusal to allow John Stewart/Green Lantern on Arrow in the past, so they finally must have signed off in some capacity.

Do I think the Stewart name is important enough to wait seven years for an episode like this? No. I don’t, particularly if Arrow can’t develop the Green Lantern storyline for John any further. If they can then I understand holding off, but if “John Stewart” is just another Green Lantern Easter egg then I don’t think it was worth putting off the storyline.

Arrow did their best to explain this massive hole in John’s backstory. Oliver and Felicity were understandably dumbfounded by the revelations, but John’s explanation was pretty weak. How is a stepfather in the DIA not pertinent information? Of course it is, particularly when Diggle so strongly advocated for Oliver to clean out the skeletons in his closet. It just puts the episode in an awkward position and while I enjoyed it, the writers didn’t overcome the timing hurdle for me.

Flash Forwards

The Flash Forwards are rapidly becoming my favorite part of the show. If I don’t get a spin off I’m gonna… well I don’t really know what I’m gonna do because I don’t actually have any power but I’ll do something!

Felicity needs a thingamajig to fix the helmet Laurel helped Mia procure, so the Princess That Was Promised heads into Star City to track it down for Mama. Connor comes along because he’s in love with Mia and can’t stand to be separated from her for more than five minutes. Yeah, I know this hasn’t been explicitly stated, but it’s facts. #SmoaknHawke

Source: amunetblack

Mia has to get the thingamajig from the Deathstroke Gang. Can we just take a minute and appreciate there’s a Deathstroke Gang? That’s kind of amazing. I mean… it’s bad.

We’re in luck because Connor knows the leader of the Deathstroke Gang who is… drum roll please… John Jr. Diggle aka JJ!!!!!!!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSS!!!! According to Connor, Lyla and Diggle’s hero gig put some pressure on the kids. Connor went one way and JJ, in an attempt to rebel, went the other. This continues the good brother/bad brother Diggle family tradition!

Source: amunetblack

Listen, I was seriously just kidding around when I said there should be a Connor, Mia and JJ love triangle like Stefan, Elena and Damon, but if the Arrow writers want to take me up on it then FINE BY ME.

I have an opening in my television viewing schedule for a good brother/bad brother and the woman they both love storyline!

They are totally going there because Mia asks, “When do I get to meet him?” The “him” being JJ of course. Oh girl, you gonna meet him alright. Just you wait.

Oliver’s baby girl will have her pick of Diggle brothers and I CANNOT STAND IT BECAUSE IT IS TOO PERFECT. Why you ask? Because we don’t have to take sides. You can ship both sides of the love triangle because no matter which way you shake it Oliver and Felicity’s daughter ends up with one of Diggle and Lyla’s sons. THIS IS THE SHIPPER DREAM!

But we aren’t meeting JJ until the spin off. So settle girl. All in good time. There needs to be some surprises left for this show. Even though they haven’t cast the role yet, I bet you dollars to donuts there will be a chemistry read with Katherine McNamara for whoever they cast.

Source: amunetblack

In the meantime, we get to watch Kat and Joseph steam up the television screen with moments like this. Damn kids. It’s getting warm in here. Wowza.

I absolutely adore how the writers are flipping the expectations. It’s almost as if they anticipated some kind of resistance to William or Connor because they aren’t biological children. Trust me I’ve seen plenty of “William isn’t really Olicity’s kid” or “Connor isn’t really Dyla’s kid” crap out there. It’s pretty horrifying the perspective some have about non biological children, so consider me thrilled the writers took those opinions and shoved them where the sun doesn’t shine. William is Mini Felicity and the good solider is Connor, not JJ. It’s amazing.

Felicity Smoak and Alena

“Felicity Smoak now entering Smoak Tech."

This gives me a happy every time I hear it. Smoak Tech and Archer are basically Felicity’s babies before she has a baby. I particularly love the part when Felicity says she needs more than Team Arrow. Yes, she loves being Overwatch, but she wants to save the world as Felicity Smoak as well. She essentially wants to go hoodless too.

I think it’s great the writers are exploring a legacy for Oliver, Felicity and Diggle outside of Team Arrow. Felicity thus far is the furthest down the road, which is good because the character is leaving in three friggin episodes.

But we’ve seen in the future John finds an outlet for his passions as well with Knight Watch. We also know Oliver is going to save the universe (such an underachiever that one).

But it’s particularly important with Felicity because we have a tendency in our culture to pigeonhole women into one thing. You’re a mom or you’re *insert career choice here.* Once we pick a path then it’s our only path.

The reality is women, like men, can be many different things all at once.

Yes, the mind reels at the thought. The fact Felicity is still searching for something when she’s found happiness as Overwatch and as a wife & mother isn’t a radical concept, but it’s one rarely portrayed by television characters.

Nor do Felicity’s interests have to happen one at a time. I think the reason Felicity is exploring these multi faceted aspects of her character is because Emily is leaving the show and the writers didn’t want to leave anything on the table. But I’m not complaining. Even when the actress is about the leave the show this exploration seldom happens, so I’m taking the wins where I can find them.

Alena wants Felicity to sell the company and this irks me. If I’ve said it once then I’ve said it a million times I DO NOT TRUST ALENA. Girlfriend is there all of five minutes and she’s already trying to sell Felicity’s baby to the highest bidder. This is my essential problem with Alena – she always has an angle.

Felicity’s hactivism was about making the world a better place, but when it comes to Alena I cannot help but feel her motivations are more selfish. Even if that’s wrong and Alena has altruistic intentions, her morality line is deeply skewed particularly when compared to Felicity’s morality. It makes this partnership dangerous in my mind. Alright. Alena rant done.

Or maybe not because Alena just did something super sketchy!!!!

After Emiko steals Archer, Felicity realizes how incredibly dangerous the program can be.

Source: paigeOTA

I love how Alena sweetly reassures Felicity she is not a mad scientist.

Source: arrowdaily

I would have added she’s a cupcake genius with extra sprinkles, but that’s me. It’s moments like these I wish I trusted Alena, but I don’t.

Felicity is literally the furthest thing from a mad scientist or her father, but she is self aware. She understands her genius can create miraculous things, but that people can use those miracles in ways she never intended. It’s basically the “With great power comes great responsibility” hero code. Felicity accepts the responsibility of her superpower and is completely altruistic with it. If her creation hurts innocent people then she will destroy it even if the intent was to help. That is selfless heroism.

Unfortunately, Alena does not share this code. And this is my essential problem with her. Yes, I love the adorable banter and a female friend for Felicity to geek out with. I particularly love that Alena replaced Curtis Holt’s mansplaining ass. But Alena has no problem crossing lines to get what SHE wants regardless of who it hurts in the process.

This is why Felicity’s arc this season is so crucial. Felicity thought she was that kind of person. Someone who would do whatever is necessary to get what she wants. It’s incredibly important to remember Felicity was trying to save her family, which is nowhere near the same as Alena trying to save a computer program that can make billions. The two don’t equate.

However, Felicity discovered she retains a moral integrity even in her darkest moments. She has the capacity to do “whatever it takes” like we all do, but ultimately Felicity realized holding to her morality makes her strong. Alena is different. She has no integrity, which is why she cannot be trusted.

And yet, it seems like in the future Felicity blames herself for how Archer was used and not Alena. Sometimes she is just like her husband.

Stray Thoughts

I love that even though I know Felicity will pull that trigger, and she did, her hand was shaking. It’s so beautifully human and one of the reasons I connect to this character so much.

This girl can really zero in on the point of the episode, can’t she? Source: arrowdaily

“That’s not very fair John.” Indeed. Very un-Yoda like behavior.

Diggle wore a shirt during the kidnapping scene. I’m extremely disappointed Arrow. You had one job!

Oliver racing to Felicity’s side the minute she says, “Hey!” will always be amazing and a trick I need to teach my husband. Source: lucyyh

Olicity finishes each other’s sentences. Your OTP could never. Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

“Normally I’m off by myself staring into nothing.” Oliver jokes about his broodiness now. Oh how far we have traveled my friends.

Oliver not saying "I'm glad you're both okay" took a lot of self control. Way to keep a lid on it Superhero Daddy. Source: olicitygifs

Felicity hacks the helmet while Mia and Connor look on mind blown.

Oliver is so chill when people insult him.

My poor babe is used to being dragged by these ungrateful twats. #OLIVERQUEENDESERVESBETTER2019 Source: 1-crazy-dreamer

The foremost expert on robotics wouldn't call Felicity back when she was CEO of Palmer Tech & now he wants to BUY Archer. I guess Ray didn't have anything he was interested in. Yes, Arrow is saying Felicity Smoak is way way way way smarter than Ray Palmer. The sky is also blue.

Even when it’s not an Olicity focused episode, Emily and Stephen do such a wonderful job of showing us Oliver and Felicity’s love and connection in the small moments. These little touches are among the many things I’m going to miss the most next season.

Source: lucyyh

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x19 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

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melthedestroyer · 5 years

Note

5 6 7 from the salty ask list :D

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*

Dean/Cas. Back when I cared about Supernatural, anyway. I could’ve totally seen it as a ship, but the complete consuming fixation on it to the point where people wouldn’t even bother watching seasons 1 through 3 (the reason I fell in love with the show in the first place) was a lot and I was never into SPN for the ships, anyway.

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

Oooo that’s a tough one. Well, okay - I was into Harry Potter before I even knew what being gay was, and I hated Draco Malfoy (because I knew a Draco, basically, and I was like 12 and only knew how to take text at face value). So it took me until probably the hiatus between 6 and 7 to even consider and/or warm up Drarry, and it might even have been later than that, I don’t remember. But for the longest time I couldn’t understand the fandom fixation on the ship or Draco as a character and would kind of roll my eyes at it. And I forget exactly what happened, if I just got more open to it, but it was a brilliantly-written fic or two that did it for me.

OH! and Kirk/Bones for Star Trek. That one was entirely a fanfic’s fault. I didn’t like the idea of that pairing at all and someone shoved this fic at me and I went OHHH. (Specifically AOS)

7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?*

Steve/Tony I guess, but I shipped it before CA:TWS came out and Tony became far less well-written in the films. There’s also tons for fandoms I’m not in anymore, obviously.

ETA: I just realized that this question was about fandom in general and not ships so: yes, many. I was a former Superwholock and I am so, so sorry lol. I was a die-hard Supernatural viewer from season 3 to 6, and fell completely off in the middle of 7. Sherlock obviously, although I still kind of get a kick out of most of the first season. The MCU is wearing on me - I haven’t seen anything since I think Black Panther (yes I know Ragnarok is good, I’ll get to it). It’s just gotten so samey and so Big and I miss when they were just stories, and I just don’t care about the Infinity War stuff and I’m getting sick of seeing it everywhere. I’ll still read fic for it, I just don’t care about anything that takes into account stuff from after CA:TWS). There are other fandoms I’ve fallen away from, yeah, but none that I actively can’t stand. Well, I mean, Twilight, but I liked it unironically at 16, understood and had my opinion changed by the backlash, and have kind of fallen back on “nah it’s campy and kinda fun even if it is pretty bad” especially now that the fandom has died down considerably.

#survey thing #invisiblespork #asks

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luciddreamer326 · 6 years

Photo

Update on writing: I’ve got seven (yes, seven!) mapped out and in progress concepts so far. Thought I’d update everyone on the statuses of each:

1) Working title: Coming Out for @lilbexi- the title is shite and won’t stick but your prompt is probably 90% written and should go up by the weekend. I’m taking a gamble with it and playing with style and POV, so it’s got some heat and laughter and everything I would want out of a decent Grace/Frankie narrative.

Preview line: Only it isn’t that easy, the weightiness of it a burden to carry. It’s soul consuming and aches to hold on to. Now? I understand Robert. I understand Sol. I am regretful where they are concerned, but thankful too. They both ransacked our lives and flung Frankie and I together. That makes it worth everything. That makes it harder to share with the world.

2) Working title: Rip Out My Heart-Another shite title that won’t stick, this one is about the spoiler photos and my wanting to play with a storyline I feel we will be looking at to end next season. I wanted to make it mine before they tear it all apart.

Preview line: When Grace leans over late into the night, and rests her head against Frankie’s shoulder, she fights not to weep openly. She finds Grace’s hand under the table and wills it not to shake in pain. She wishes she could be happy, but it’s hard when half of her heart is sitting in another chest.

3) No title prompt fic for @negativeoedipus: I’m still blank on a title but I’d say this is 75% written. The premise is that the ladies go on a retreat only to find out it wasn’t what they expected. Confusion and hilarity ensue, with the events of their trip changing them both. Sorry it’s taken so long to write but the little mini ficlet I intended to write kept unraveling and now sits at 14k word count and 35 pages.

Preview lines: I want to do something,” she spits out one night over a Pinot Grigio and a piece baked chicken, vision blurring a little at the mundaneness of it all. Frankie looks up from her own meal and squints, confused. “You mean, like a Say Yes night?” Grace can already feel her head start moving, shaking it. “By my standards four years ago, our Say Yes night was fairly bizarre. I’d never danced on a bar before.” She can’t but smile at the memory of it all, but that is soon erased by other thoughts bombarding. “No, I want something crazy, out there. I want to grab life and make the most of it.”

4) Navigating Limbo: the idea isn’t originally mine and I owe that to another in this wonderful fandom. I took the concept and ran with it though. It’s set post season 4 and picks up right where the series left off. I’m leaving the specific parameters for this one out (for now) since they’re pretty risqué. I’ve managed to bang out 6k on this one so far and am very dedicated to its finish, but it’s just not at the top of my list.

Preview lines: “So, you’re the alcoholic drug addict my sister has been living with the last four years that I’ve heard so much about,” Teddie snottily says, grasping Grace’s hand. Yeah, Frankie can totally understand Grace’s protestations at this option. She watches as shock flits across her face and then is masked by the oh-so-perfect facade that Grace always goes to in social situations where she is on the defense.

5) The Agreement: I’ve got two chapters left and mostly written. While the whole piece has been rather…wild, I want to end on a more toned down/heartfelt note. The preview is from chapter 9 and I’ll probably have it uploaded sometime next week. Preview lines:

Grace’s insecurities start to run rampant and she finds it harder to breathe, like her lungs are collapsing on her. She’s never really sat and pondered how important all of this has become to her and suddenly, the prospect of losing it seems life altering in the worst kind of way. Worse than losing Robert. Worse than losing the house. Worse than anything she can possibly imagine. Frankie must sense her uneasiness because she stops their walk along the beach and turns to face Grace squarely. She makes a move for both of Grace’s hands and all Grace can think is this is it. Tears start to form and she wants to run away, to not be here for this even though it’s directly involving her.

6) Working title: Elements- I usually name my writing before I really flesh it out, which could be a bad thing but I don’t know. It seems to give it a life I otherwise might not assign it were I to brainstorm, write, then name. Doing that aspect first helps it become a priority to me. Anyway, it’s going to be a short piece, hopefully between the 1k-3k mark. It’s based on the elements (obviously) and will focus on that particular substance within the context of the show.

Really rough preview: With the changing of seasons, if one could say Southern California weather deviates much, comes the flames. Things scorch and burn and they watch as it unfolds on the screen. El Cajon smolders and if they walk out and gaze to the east, they can smell the soot mixing with the salty sea air.

7) Tumblr dialogue prompts fic: I saved a post and picked out some of the lines I felt I could create a story with. It’s another take on how a relationship could develop through uncertainty and loss. I tend to go back to that theme a lot because while I about die when I read fic with any angst, it really does create a poignant tale most of the time. That being said, there are so many variations of it to play with, so I try. Preview lines:

The summer starts and she’s still waking up, staring out across the small man-made river that has a row of condo-like living spaces that mirror their own on the other side. Her sleep is restless, a mixture of nothingness and a reel that constantly repeats various versions of looking at the sign by the beach house that reads “sold.”

In addition, I’ve got some choppy sentences I really like but haven’t formed into bulk yet that I’d like to eventually see go somewhere. I find that when I’m working on one concept, something else might come to me that doesn’t fit within the confines of what I’m working on that second, but might find a home elsewhere. Hence the 7 WIP’s. I also have what I’m calling a B-side scene I wrote for The Agreement, and I had to cut it for flow reasons. It will probably get shared as an additional “collection” piece some day. I don’t know. We will see. If you’ve read this far, bless. I am so grateful to each of you who have read, commented, and taken to the time to give me a little love. You make it worthwhile and I love writing for this fandom.

#grace and frankie #writing prompts #fanfiction #i need to finish them

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1237

disclaimer I’ll be taking into account the last 24 hours for the first part because it’s 3 in the morning and I haven’t really done anything yet lmao anywho

survey by chasingghosts

Have you today?

Looked in a mirror? Yeah I took a shower earlier so I couldn’t really avoid the mirror in the bathroom.

Watered a plant? I don’t do plants. Can never take care of them to save my life.

Worn denim? I did, actually. Some package came for me earlier today and I didn’t really look the most decent, so before heading out to meet the delivery guy I grabbed the first jacket I saw, which was denim.

Washed your hair? Yes, when I took said shower a couple of hours ago.

Been in pain? Yup my back and shoulders feel like hell from sitting on my ass all day while at work.

Had a nap? Kinda, I guess? I fell asleep at around 9, 9:30ish...woke up at around 1 AM, and here I am now. I don’t plan on sleeping anymore.

Brushed your teeth? Yup.

Kissed someone? Just my dogs.

Used a cheese grater? No, I don’t think I’ve consumed any cheese today either.

Eaten something sweet? Nah, it’s all been salty/savory for me today.

Spoken to a stranger? Sure.

Dropped something? I drop my vape pen at least once a day, so yes.

Felt upset in some way? UGH yeah. Our internet disappeared at around 2 in the afternoon and it still hasn’t come back, and our service provider’s social media has been unsurprisingly unresponsive and useless. I’ve been using data since then and I’m just worried about how long this would take because I don’t want to keep spending just for extra load. I also have my Korean language classes this afternoon which will for sure require a lot of data :/

Drank coffee? I have a full mug of it beside me right now.

Walked for more than thirty minutes? LOL no, I’ve only stayed indoors.

Signed up for something? Hmm I don’t think so.

Travelled in a car? See two answers above this.

Opened a can? Nopes.

Thought about doing something crazy? Just me thinking about dropping another couple thousands on merch until I mentally slapped myself and told myself I’d be fucking stupid if I spent on one more piece of stupid merch.

Listened to a new song? Yes, I tried listening to Love Shot by EXO over dinner since my sister had started humming it. It was okay but I quickly shifted back to BTS right after hahaha.

Written in a notebook? No. I only do so when I practice my Hangul but I have yet to work on that today.

Fed an animal? Yes, I have pets.

Checked your emails? I mean that’s kind of the standard in my job lol I have my Gmail tab up throughout the 8 hours.

Told someone you love them? No.

Made a phone call? No, I’m rarely the one who makes the call.

Have you in the last week?

Travelled on a bus? I’ve never ridden a bus solely for commuting by myself. I’ve only been on them when it’s the arranged vehicle, like for school field trips or our family vacations. Our public buses are quite bleck and unsanitary and the drivers maneuver the buses like it’s their last goddamn hour on the planet, so I don’t get on them myself.

Washed your face? I mean yeah, when I take showers. I don’t really have a skincare routine though, if that’s what you mean.

Used a blender? We rarely have a use for a blender at home so we don’t even have one.

Received a phone call? No. My biggest pet peeve is when delivery riders call me up once they’ve arrived at our place just to say “I’m here,” but fortunately the one assigned to me today to deliver my package knew how to use the doorbell.

Talked to someone you dislike? Yeah I have to deal with a client I absolutely fucking despise everyday.

Consumed alcohol? I’ve thought of it, but then I thought of how sleepy I get whenever I drink alcohol and decided against it because I wanted to stay up tonight.

Eaten pasta? Yeah, my dad made Filipino-style spaghetti for dinner the other evening.

Planned for an event? Not an event per se but sure, I made some plans? Punk is slated to make his debut on AEW/return to pro wrestling next weekend or sometime soon, idrk - and this is a big fucking deal omg, 15 year old Robyn has arisen from her grave - and Andi and I made plans to watch it together so we can freak the fuck out.

Asked someone for a favour? Yes. I borrowed cash from my mom since the delivery fee for my packaging earlier was apparently cash on delivery.

Watched something funny? I mean I watch BTS clips pretty much everyday and a gigantic chunk of them are hilarious.

Trimmed your nails? No, but I did bite on them multiple times.

Browsed Reddit? I did actually! After a super long time of not doing so...I just decided to randomly check out r/bangtan to see what’s going on there. It’s mostly Americans though so idk if I’ll make a habit out of browsing.

Talked to yourself? Oh this happens a few times a day.

Purchased tickets for something? Nope.

Felt like you were annoying someone? Just about everyday.

Cleaned a toilet? I have not.

Reminisced about the past? Not really. I’ve made references to the past with friends, but we didn’t ~reminisce.

Used headphones? Yeah I always use my headphones when playing Rhythm Hive so I can hear the beats better.

Laughed with a friend? Many times. Always just virtually, though.

Cooked dinner and then didn't feel hungry? I don’t cook.

Written a list? LOL yes. My period had been coming and I noticed I was crying over the smallest, stupid things, so I started a list of the things I cried over the last week. The funniest item on the list is probably an ad that was shown to us during a campaign briefing...

Played an instrument? Nope.

Felt jealous or envious? I will sometimes feel the tiniest tinge of envy and wistfulness when I see my friends in happy and fulfilled relationships, but it passes in a second.

Ignored a text message on purpose? So many hahahahahahah

Congratulated someone? Yes!!! Graduation season was last week so I congratulated a shit ton of friends.

Have you in the last month?

Made a piece of art? Making art was never made for me, so no.

Rewatched one of your favourite tv shows or movies? Yep, I rewatched Friends a couple of weeks ago.

Called a plumber? Nope.

Been to a see a doctor? I mean, technically I guess yeah? When I had to get my vaccine shot.

Finished a book? I haven’t done that in a while.

Had a crush on someone? Just celebrities but I won’t count those.

Travelled on a train? I haven’t.

Worn heels? Haven’t done this either.

Been to a friend's house? I’ve been to Angela’s house semi-regularly, yup.

Shared a bed with someone? Nah.

Been to see a movie at the cinema? I haven’t been to the cinema in like a year and a half.

Paid attention to celebrity drama? Erm not really. I also haven’t been up to date with that, especially with American celebrities hahaha.

Felt anxious? Maybe not anxious but nervous.

Taken an elevator? Yeah in Mega since that place is so goddamn big.

Given someone the cold shoulder? Yep, my mom when she is being extra annoying/condescending.

Purchased a new book/game/movie? I guess you can say that? I bought a subscription pack on Rhythm Hive because I was using it regularly anyway.

Applied for a job? I already have a job, so no. I did get a job proposal on Linkedin a couple of weeks ago with another PR firm, but I took a look at their clients just to see if the offer was something I could sink my teeth into - and even though their brands were quite high-profile, they were in industries I didn’t particularly find interesting.

Used a printer? Nah.

Had lunch in a park? No.

Gotten a manicure or pedicure? I have not.

Made an appointment? Just for my shot but that’s it.

Had a blood test done? Noooooo not another one of those plz.

Suffered from a major bruise? Not a major bruise but a huge bloody gash on my thigh after a particlarly rowdy play session with Cooper. There’s still a very visible scar on me.

Researched a topic in-depth? I do this quite a bit in my work, yes.

Have you in the last year?

Been to the beach? No, I’ve mostly stayed at home since July 2020.

Visited someone in the hospital? I haven’t. Too risky.

Played pinball? No, it’s never interested me.

Travelled on a plane? I haven’t. :(

Worn a costume? Sure, for Halloween last year I went as Dora.

Been thrift shopping? Not that I can recall, no.

Thought about getting pregnant or got pregnant? Definitely not at this point in my life.

Made a big life decision? Uh yeah this past year was both the worst and best rollercoaster I’ve ever been on. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since that shitty breakup...

Changed a lightbulb? Nope.

Framed something and put it on your wall? No but I have been meaning to do this for months. I just never get around to buying some actual picture frames lol.

Been stargazing? Not the professional kind of way with a telescope and all. I’ve just lied on my back at the rooftop to gaze at the night sky and the stars.

Made a new friend? So many!!! Reena is probably my bestestestest new friend <3 I mean we’ve met a while ago, as Angela’s mutual - even had a few drinks or so together - but we didn’t become closer until just a couple of months ago.

Added to a collection? I’ve had merch that arrive every week or so these days because I bought a ridiculous amount of shit between May and June when I was a new Army. I’ve substantially calmed down now, but I should expect to receive my running list of ordered merch up until September LMAO. At first I used to bitch about the really long shipping period considering all the products come from Korea, but after 3 or 4 fulfilled orders you kinda get used to it.

Been to the dentist? No.

Broken up with someone? Yessss. I didn’t know it at the time but it would turn out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Held a baby? Nah.

Created a budget? Yeah...doesn’t mean I’ve been successful. I always go over, hehe.

Confessed feelings for someone? There isn’t anyone to do that for.

Had surgery of any kind? Nopes.

Quit a job? No and I have no plans to anytime soon.

Been in a car accident? Nah but my dad has, c/o some stupid and unattentive motorcycle driver.

Purchased something worth over a grand? So in US dollar conversion, around P50,000? Hell no.

Been on vacation at least 500km/300mi from home? No. :( The farthest we’ve been to was Tagaytay and I think that’ll remain the same for a while.

Applied for an academic course? Yes, my Korean class.

Had your photo taken by a professional? No, it’s been over a year since my last professional shoot for my senior photos.

#survey #surveys

0 notes

footbaliimagines · 7 years

Text

green light (an antoine griezmann imagine)

these are intended to be like snippets of a relationship between two people who <3 each other from the start but cant quite get their timing right. Idk it’s all a bit random and jumbled but i like the idea and the individual bits and the song and i hope you like it!! (p.s. the timeline is not 100% nailed tbh there isnt really much of a coherent timeline at all oops but let’s just go with it and not overthink it too much LOL SORRY) also it is ridiculously long so its allllll under the cut down there and also i have basically just lifted and edited one of my other drabbles in here so yeah

I know about what you did and I wanna scream the truth

You’re 18 and you hate him so much that you’re sure you never want to see him again.

(Never want to speak to him again, never want to look at his stupid smile, never want to set sights on another football match again in your entire life.)

He left you, alone, sad, single and still pining, after pledging his commitment to you and your relationship only to have his head turned by a stupid football team.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It was all so god damn stupid.

“You’re not stupid,” Your best friend rolls her eyes and nudges you with her elbow.

You hum unresponsively, and silence envelops your bedroom once again. Rolling onto your back, you scrunch your eyes shut and groan, “I am. I’m stupid for believing him, and stupid for falling in love with such a stupid guy and I’m stupid because I’m here whining and crying and feeling sorry for myself while he’s out having the time of his life.”

“You’re not stupid.” This time, she laughs at your stubbornness, and flops next to you on your bed. “You’re in love. That’s not stupid. That’s life.”

She looks at you knowingly, and you hum again. It feels like your world is crumbling around you, but her words are probably the wisest you’ve ever heard. “I still feel stupid.” You mumble.

Before you’re about to burst into tears again, she wraps her arms around you and murmurs into your shoulder, “You can, and that’s valid. But you’ll be okay, you’ll move on and in a few years’ you won’t even remember his name. I promise.”

thought you said that you would always be in love

“Wine? Beer? I have some whiskey somewhere if you’d prefer that?”

You shrug, “I don’t mind. Whatever you’ve got open already.”

He pours you a gin and tonic and waits expectantly for you to speak up.

But you don’t.

You stare, fixated, at your glass, and swirl your straw around in the ice with one hand, fiddling with the zipper on your jacket with the other, waiting for him to make the first move.

It feels stranger than you can imagine to be sat here in silence next to Antoine. You want to speak, you feel like you should speak, but the words can’t quite come and there’s an insurmountable lump lodged in your throat. You haven’t seen each other in months, and it feels like there’s been a hole in your heart ever since he left.

(A huge, horrible Antoine-shaped hole.)

It’s not like you don’t see him at all, but his visits have slowly become less frequent and university has begun to occupy more and more of your time, and you’ve inevitably drifted. Awkwardness was never something you feared with Antoine, but now the atmosphere couldn’t be any more uncomfortable.

You cave after a few more minutes of strained silence. “How have you been?”

He’s grateful that he didn’t have to be the one to make the first move, and nods quickly. “Good, good. How’s home?”

“Home’s good too.”

“And yourself?”

“All good.”

(You want the ground to swallow you up.)

“Hey- you know that you can tell me anything, right? You don’t have to hold anything back.”

“Bit difficult when you’ve not been around, but sure.” You say, and there’s a bitterness in your voice that you don’t bother to hide. “And maybe if you bothered to call every once in awhile I’d feel a bit more comfortable spilling my guts to you.”

“Don’t be a dick about this. Calm down.”

He leans back on his seat, sipping coolly at his water. He’s cool and casual and acting like he doesn’t give a single fuck, and the arrogance of it all, the way he swans back home and acts as if he’s the bees knees just because he can kick a ball about for a bit makes you seethe.

“Fuck you.”

Then he laughs - he has the audacity to laugh - and salty tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “What’s so funny?”

You place your glass down on the table with extra force and stare him down, dead in the eye. “I’m sorry- hey, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a joke.” You scold him. “You’re the one that left and created all of this. You’re the one who has to pick up the pieces. Not me.”

And with that, you sweep out of the room, only for Antoine to lurch forward, clasping your hands in his and looking at you intently, his blue eyes flaming wildly, begging you, persuading you to stay. “I’m sorry.”

You slow to a stop and bite your lip.

“I think I’m just nervous. Not seeing you in so long - you’ve- you’ve changed. You look so, so beautiful. And it threw me off. I’m sorry. I swear, I’m sorry.”

You glance around his apartment. It’s empty, save for a pile of video games and dog toys. There’s nothing there, nothing of substance, and it feels empty, soulless, not like a home. A pang of sympathy burns through your heart as you realise you can’t leave him like this.

Whispered apologies and breathless ‘i-miss-you’s’ lead from one thing to another.

You pull him in and try not to overthink too much as he leads you to his room.

did it frighten you how we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?

You’re 22 now, and Antoine’s taking on San Sebastian by storm.

(Or at least, that was what you told everyone.)

It’s the end to his first proper season, and the club are hosting a summer party at a swanky hotel in the city centre. You’ve been flown out specially and introduced proudly to his teammates and coaching team, and the way he looks at you makes your stomach tumble.

(It’s like you’re seventeen again.)

He spins you around on the dancefloor with glee, and his parents and siblings are laughing at his goofy behaviour as you twirl with him to whatever was top of the charts in 2012.

(You’re too giddy to be seeing him again to remember properly.)

“I’m so happy for you.” You’re practically shouting to be heard above the music. “There’s no one who deserves success more.”

He smiles bashfully and blushes, before dipping his head and pressing his lips to yours. It’s a quick, short kiss, and probably looked much less romantic to outsiders than it felt to you, but it winds you and makes the blood rush to your head. “I love you.”

You tell him, in a hushed, breathy voice that you love him too.

I whisper things, the city sings them back to you

Now, it’s 2014 and Antoine’s just completed his transfer to Atletico Madrid.

“How’s life treating you in the capital, Senor?”

He laughs, and it’s only then that the amount you miss him hits home. His laugh is homely, it’s comforting and melodic and rumbles through his chest, and you can’t help but grin. “Life is great.” He chuckles, and a pang sears through your heart.

You want him to be happy, of course you do, but you’d be lying if you told yourself that it didn’t hurt to know he wasn’t just coping, but flourishing without you. “I’m glad to hear that.” You say gently. “You deserve it.”

“The city looks so beautiful at night.” Antoine observes, tipping his glass and nodding in the direction of the Madrid skyline in front of you two. “Doesn’t feel like home yet, but the view doesn’t hurt.”

You smile, and nod in agreement. It’s chilly, and before you know it he’s draping his jacket around your shoulders, speaking softly, “I miss you. And I think about you every day.”

His words knock the air out of you, and your face breaks into a smile. You want to reach over and link your fingers with his, but you swiftly compose and refrain yourself.

(You’re over him, completely 100% over him, and it wasn’t worth going back to square one again for one night, only to fly back to France the next morning and then not speak for weeks again.)

Antoine laughs again, and places his wine glass down on the side before gesturing at you to do the same. You down your champagne in one swift gulp and the bubbles rush to your head, making you burp- and subsequently, making Antoine laugh even harder. He entwines your fingers together, tugging you to the middle of the rooftop space. His steps mirror yours and wobble slightly, wavering as the alcohol works its familiar magic, and he pulls you in. You can’t help but let yourself get pulled along, and your hands link between his neck.

His black suit is stiff and ironed, and fitting tightly around his neck, and you press down on the material as he draws you closer. The music from the Atleti Christmas party is faint in the background- some playful, piano sonata serving as little more than ambient white noise- and you can barely make out the notes, never mind the beat, but Antoine starts to dance with you.

(Well, slowly wandering in circles because you’ve both consumed far too much alcohol to dance properly, but the sentiment remained the same.)

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me, you know that, right?” He mumbles into your shoulder, as you slow back to stillness.

You roll your eyes and shake your head, trying to pry yourself out of his grasp to no avail. His arms around you tighten, as if he can’t, won’t, let go, as if you’re the most precious thing in the world and letting go could have disastrous consequences. His voice wobbles, and all of a sudden he’s that small, scared, nervous 18 year old boy you said goodbye to at the airport so many years ago.

“You’re a massive liar.”

He shakes his head determinedly; your quirk your eyebrow at him, challenging him. “The most beautiful, the silliest, the most annoying-.” He continues, and he smiles playfully at you.

“Sorry, do you want me to throw you off the roof, or-?”

He laughs, and his grip eventually loosens.

Antoine follows you as you walk back inside the party, and doesn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

sometimes I wake up in a different bedroom

You’re 25 now, older, wiser, more mature.

Shaped by life as a working woman with a house and a mortgage and a new swanky job in Paris.

(The fact that seeing photos of him continues to make you swoon to this day and that you still fall victim to his blue eyes whenever he visits makes you kind of hate yourself.)

(God, it’s all so cliche and messy that you can’t even recognise yourself anymore.)

“I don’t know what it is, but I always go back to him.” You mumble.

Your best friend smiles sympathetically. She’s been there for you every step of the way of this horrible, drawn out convoluted Antoine-saga that she’s basically become the third person of your relationship.

(If you could even call it that.)

“He was your first love, your first boyfriend, your childhood sweetheart, if you will.” She reasons.

“Of course you’re going to think about him. He’s not just an average, normal ex.”

“I think he was it for me.” You admit, in a tiny and quiet voice. “Which makes the fact that I don’t know if we’ll ever work so much scarier.”

Years have passed and life has changed, but there’s one thing (well, one person) that remains constant.

You’re not sure if you’ll ever get over him.

I hear sounds in my mind

brand new sounds in my mind

You pick up the bottle of champagne from the bar, letting the heavy glass bottle rock in your hands. The liquid inside warms from your touch, and you sit gingerly at the end of the hotel bed while he lingers by the window. You feel like an intruder invading somewhere where you don’t really belong, but he calms your nerves by smiling reassuringly and reaching out to sling an arm around your waist. “Congratulations.”

It’s the night after the semi-finals of the EUROs, and Antoine’s face is fixated with a rapturous grin, blue eyes fixated on you and scanning your body hungrily.

You haven’t seen him in months’; it feels new and nervous and kind of exciting. “Stop looking at me like that.” You narrow your eyes at him.

He laughs, leaning his head back and tipping up his chin before gently lifting the champagne bottle out of your hands. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like you,” You struggle for the words. “I don’t know, like you like me.”

He replies emphatically, “I do like you. What do you want me to do? Give you evils? Chuck you out of my hotel room, which you rudely barged into with no invitation, as a matter of fact?”

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes.

“You’re my best friend. Of course I like you.”

“I like you too, then.” You take the bottle of champagne back off of him and pad to the side cabinet to deftly pick up two flutes, as he spins you around to hug you from behind.

You can feel his lashes tickle the back of your neck and the smell of his aftershave drifts to your nostrils. The lights are dim and there’s music playing from his phone in the background; he takes your hands and spins you around, laughing maniacally.

There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

honey I’ll be seeing you down every road

The next time you see him, it’s his summer break and you both return to your hometown. Despite your insistence to everyone that this time, things would be different and you wouldn’t go down that same stupid route again, it’s Friday night and you’re in his old bedroom, lying on the floor with a bottle of red wine sat between you.

“Love is stupid, and confusing, and I hate it.” You moan.

You’re spilling the details of your latest breakup to him, and the wine is making your blood run hot and your view foggy.

“I’ll cheers to that.”

He clinks your wine glasses together and mirrors your body language as you down the rest of it in a rapid gulp. “And breakups are shit. And men are shit, and I hate-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He interrupts. “I’m not shit. Don’t tarnish me with the same brush.”

You feel a chuckle bubble up in your throat and choke out indignantly, “Oh Antoine, believe me, you’re the shittest. The absolute worst.”

He feigns indignation, but you leap to your feet and point your finger at his face before he can argue back. “You made me think that we were in love, when I was naive and gullible and 18, for Christ’s sake, and you lied to me and told me we’d always be together and all that bullshit.” What had started as mere joking had escalated to something bigger, and your voice seethes with poison and spite.

(You would later come to blame liquid confidence for your outburst.)

“And then we see each other and every now and then, and you tell me again that you love and miss me but you do absolutely fucking nothing about it.” You rub your eyes with your hands and feel them sting with tears. “I’m sick and I’m tired, and I’m so, so fed up. And I can’t do this anymore, being your bit on the side, you know, your convenient fuck buddy because you know I’d do anything for you and that once you go back home you don’t have to deal with the consequences.”

He nods numbly, shellshocked, and can’t bring himself to look at you. For once, for you feel like you have the upper hand.

(It’s a refreshing, empowering, satisfying feeling.)

(So why do you still feel so shit?)

“I understand.”

“I really fucking hate you sometimes, Antoine.” You say, in a small voice. “For what you’ve done to me- for what you do to me. How I’m strong and capable and I have my head screwed on until I see you, and then I’m a mess with no control. And how it happens every single fucking time.”

“Stay.”

One word, like it’s that simple, like it’s that easy, like you’re that stupid.

Like you’d believe a single word that came out of his stupid, piece of shit mouth.

He’s begging and he jumps to his feet, and the look in his eyes and the way his hands tremble is nearly enough to make you crumble again but you stand strong. Because you’re selfish - as you should be, for once - and you refuse to accept it this time.

You’re resentful, selfish and you’re bitter as hell.

He mutters, “You’re all I have these days. Please don’t leave.”

“I can’t be what you need me to be anymore.” You shake your head and back away. “I really can’t.”

It hurts more than you can imagine to reject him at his most vulnerable but there’s a feeling of accomplishment and adrenaline running through your veins as you leave.

honey I’ll be seeing you wherever I go

After that night, you go without seeing Antoine for a good five months, and you’re doing fine.

(Fine. A-okay. Great, even, depending on the day.)

Life, football, the Champions League, your new job - you name it - they all get in the way, and as if following a routine, your friendship returns to sporadic text messages, occasional email exchanges and promises to meet up that never really pan out.

You’ve realised you don’t care as much about the football, and sometimes find it difficult to even hear the word Madrid in conversation, but it’s okay, and all is good and happy and constant in your life.

Change is good, and Paris is incredible. And you’ve discovered a bunch of new shows and singers and artists and you remind yourself constantly that broadening your horizons is beneficial and necessary and nothing bad could possibly have come from it.

Sometimes, you think you spot him in the corner of your eye. A flurry of dark hair in front of you in the street, a broad set of shoulders ordering coffee, a man speaking Spanish lilted with a French accent, a booming laugh and a twinkling smile. You see him and it’s like a switch has been flicked within you, it’s him, you know it’s him immediately, and suddenly it’s like you’ve stepped into a time machine and you want to approach him and say hi, hey, how are you, you look great, we should grab coffee.

(Or something. You can’t guarantee that it would be a friendly exchange, and knowing your temper and the sour way you last left things, the likelihood of an amiable reunion was very slim.)

Then it dawns on you, that it’s not Antoine at all. It’s another man, a complete stranger, and you’ve been staring at him like an idiot for no reason at all.

You think sometimes that you could have simply got it all wrong. Antoine’s invaded your brain, marked his stamp and presence in your head and ruined every other man on the planet with brown hair and a handsome grin and a deep laugh. In fact, if you were never able to form a healthy relationship with another man in your life, he’d be to blame, you often muse moodily. He’s trapped you, preventing you from moving forward, because it’s like you’re stuck in this vicious cycle where everything comes back to him and you see him everywhere you go.

The man you’ve been staring at for the better part of the last 10 minutes’ flashes eye contact with you briefly when he gets up to leave. You’ve been imagining this man as him, projecting a story and a life and a plot onto a random stranger you would never see again, all of that potential.

The possibilities, the what-ifs and all the what-could-have-beens, how your life could have been so different if you’d accepted Antoine’s offer to move out with him so many years ago.

You try to push these thoughts as far as possible out of your mind.

honey I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let go

You’re sitting in the waiting room of the dentist when you spot the glossy cover of Closer in the corner of your eye, photographs of Antoine splashed across the front. He’s holding hands with a mystery brunette, shielding her from the paparazzi’s glares.

You pick it up and it feels like watching as an outsider to a parallel universe, like sitting on the wrong side of a glass enclosure or like a spectator at the zoo watching on. He’s thriving, prospering, blossoming in Madrid, partying with the world’s elite and living the life that you always knew he would get to one day. You should feel happy for him, but there’s an uneasy, gnawing feeling in your gut.

You toss the magazine back onto the table.

I wish I could get my things and just let go

The streets of Paris are beautiful and picturesque, you muse, as you walk home. It’s been a long day at work, and there’s a tempting bottle of chilled pinot grigio waiting for you in your fridge, and a bath calling your name. You stretch your neck, digging out your keys and glancing back up to your front door.

He’s sat there, waiting patiently, fiddling around doing something or other on his phone with his hood up. It’s dark by this point, and if you hadn’t recognised his shadow you’d have been ready to whip out your pepper spray and pounce. He’s in casual wear, presumably after his spontaneous flight out to Paris, and takes his hood off. It’s probably to deter any potential fans or paparazzi, but gives off an awful impression nonetheless. “Hey.” You call out.

Antoine jumps before looking up at you. “Hi.”

“Is there a reason you’re sat on my front step?”

He laughs nervously. Your first glance at him makes your throat dry up and your heart stutter, and suddenly you regret your decision to put a spectacular lack of effort into your appearance today. “I wanted to talk. I was in town and just thought I’d drop by.”

“What, you were just casually in Paris?” You raise an eyebrow at him questioningly and he shrugs in response. “You shouldn’t wait around at people’s doorsteps in all black with your hood up. Could give off the wrong impression. You’re lucky I didn’t attack you or call 911.”

He smiles cheekily, “Duly noted.”

He aligns his steps next to yours as easy as anything, and follows you into your hallway when you unlock the door. The lights slowly flicker on, and it feels like you’re sat on a knife’s edge.

Why was he here? What did he want? Why didn’t he call beforehand? Who told him that blonde and blue highlights would seriously be a good idea?

Your mind fizzes to the brim with unanswered, desperate questions, but you are determined to keep your cool. “I don’t know what to say.” Is what you mumble out instead.

Antoine smiles softly, that ridiculously, perfectly photogenic smile, and your heart starts beating incessantly already.

“Let me speak, then.” He clears his throat. “I just want to apologise.”

“What for?”

He cuts you off, “And I want to explain some things to you.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve been a dick.”

You smile and shrug. “Can’t say I massively disagree.”

“But I’m ready to stop that now.”

“So honourable. Jeez.” You mock, and he gives you a look.

(As if to say, shut up, i’m trying here, let me finish my god damn sentence.)

“Because I’m ready now. I know it’s taken me so long but I know now, it’s dawned on me. It’s you, it’s all you and it always has been you. You deserve the best, not just with this, whatever this is, but with everything in your life, and I haven’t been able to give you me at my best, not until now. That’s why I’ve been so hesitant, that’s why we’ve always been so unsure, because I could never give you what you deserved. But It’s so clear to me now. God, I love you more than I ever thought was possible, I love you so much that when you’re not here it’s like I can’t breathe, and food has no taste and it’s all so pointless. I love you. I think deep down I always have. And I want to make the plunge now, because I’m all in. All, 100%, completely, truly, unfailingly all in.”

He offers you a hand which you take, pulled in like a magnet. “I never want to be without you, ever, ever again. Not a single day.”

You gulp, your eyes welling with tears. “Flying out to Paris was probably unnecessary, I know. But- hey, just give me a call when you get the chance, okay? When you’ve made a decision, thought about it-”

“I don’t need to think about it.” You interrupt him eagerly, and you cup his face with both hands.

His chest is heaving with deep, nervous, shaky breaths, mirroring yours, and when you smile it takes over your face.

(You’re probably terrifying him because you’re pretty sure the smile on your face makes you look like a lunatic, but you don’t care.)

His hands find your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and he kisses you roughly, like no time has passed. His lips are soft and familiar and they feel like coming home.

You breathe, “I’m yours.”

“Hm?”

Antoine swings you up and your legs wrap around his waist, as his arm hooks around you with ease and he continues to press kisses to your neck.

“All yours.”

I’m waiting for it, that green light, I want it

“Til death do us part.”

You opt for an intimate, cosy reception, but the music resonating soundly around the hall, your guests’ chatter and laughter, and the never ending clinking of cutlery and glassware makes it sound like you’ve invited the whole population of France. Antoine grips your hand so tightly that his nails leave marks on the back of your hand and before you can even blink (or, as the cliche goes, have a slice of your own cake), you’re whizzing round, saying goodbyes.

(It’s the happiest day of your life by a mile.)

Antoine presses a line of kisses down your neck, marking a pattern from below your ear to the base of your neck. He murmurs, “God, I feel like I’ve been waiting to marry you for the whole of my life.”

“Maybe we should have just eloped when we were like, eighteen.” You laugh. It’s a tongue in cheek comment but you can’t help but feel like there’s some truth in your statement. “ It would have saved lots of back of forth-”

“And lots of pain, crying- the latter, mostly on my part.” He chuckles, and you laugh again, like it’s something infectious and like your entire body has just been taken over by bubbles and champagne and all things light and fizzy.

(It feels like you’re floating on air.)

(And for the first time, you start to think that maybe, all the heartache and the fighting and the angry pledges you made that you would never speak to him again, were worth it.)

(Love did weird things to you.)

“Now, would you like to join me in our wedding suite, Mrs Griezmann?”

It rolls off his tongue like honey and you bite your lip in euphoric anticipation, nodding emphatically. The sound of your shared laughter (there it is again, that hyperactive, constant bubble of laughter) echoes around the empty hotel corridor as you follow him to your suite.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes when he looks back at you.

#my writing #antoine griezmann #Antoine Griezmann fanfiction #antoine griezmann imagine #antoine griezmann fanfic #antoine griezmann fic #antoine griezmann one shot #footballer fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #football one shot #Football Fanfiction #atletico madrid fanfiction

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captainlenfan · 5 years

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New Post has been published on http://websiteshop.network/episode-436-qa-with-robb-and-nicki-29/

Episode 436 – Q&A with Robb and Nicki #29

http://robbwolf.com/2019/07/19/episode-436-qa-with-robb-and-nicki-29/

We’re here with Episode 436, Q&A #29!

Submit your own questions for the podcast at: https://robbwolf.com/contact/submit-a-question-for-the-podcast/

If you want to see the video for this podcast, be sure to check out our YouTube channel.

Show Notes:

1. Endurance Fueling For A Keto Athlete [2:00]

Cassandra says:

Dear Robb + Nicki,

First off…thanks for the great job you two do in making complicated nutrition and fitness information easy to access and understand (even for uneducated gym rats like myself). I’ve been listening to the podcast for years, reading the blog and the books (just got Wired to Eat) and I still find myself learning something new almost weekly.

Bottom line up front – how do you guys recommend tackling post-workout nutrition for endurance / high-intensity sports while on the keto train?

I’m 35, 5’8”, 155 lbs with a fairly muscular build. I’ve been doing the Crossfit + weightlifting thing for 5-6 years now (4-6 times a week). I’ve got 10 strict pull ups, a 250 lb 1 RM back squat, a 285 1RM DL and can hold an L-sit for a minute….so I think I’m pretty strong(?) – in some aspects anyway … Strict bedtimes at 8:30 every night with 8 hours of sleep, no injuries, no severe reactions to any type of food (except tequila) – BUT I perform and look a lot better when I’m strict about paleo. I’ve been eating that way and it has been keeping me fueled really well in the aforementioned training situations.

Due to the nature of my job – active duty Marine, I am required to run a 5k every year for time…so I do incorporate running into my weekly routine – usually no more than 15-20 miles a week…long-ish runs mixed with hill sprints or pushing sleds so I don’t die of cardio boredom.

Within the past year – – due to losing a bet or being shamed into them (I can’t quite remember), I’ve also been running a few half marathons and one marathon. I plan do to one more full later this year, the Rock n Roll in Las Vegas – mostly because its an excuse to travel to Vegas with some girlfriends of mine. The low-carb/paleo diet has been awesome for my health on the weightlifting/crossfit/sprinting side of things… but I’m struggling with the endurace side of my fitness.

For my runs more than 90 minutes, I’ve been fueling with some organic stinger chewies/gels near the end of my run and then other, whole-food-type carbs at the end….bananas, berries, coconut water…sometimes gatorade, (an occasional beer :)), etc. My recovery has been OK…not awesome though (and when I take out the mid-run or end carbs, my energy tanks and my joints hurt for days)….. it takes me about me 1-2 days to get through my soreness for half marathons and almost 5 days for a run more than 22 miles WITH the intra and post-carbs.

I’ve recently jumped on the keto train in January…did your masterclass, read Mark Sisson’s book, started listening to a lot of low-carb / keto based podcasts (Shawn Baker, Fat Burning Man, etc) and just started Wired to Eat. I’ve been trying to do my own homework and listen to my body…so far this keto thing has been great! I’ve dropped about 10 lbs since the beginning of the year, have been sleeping a lot better and have seen gains in my strength. But the race season starts up in May (the LV Marathon is in November but I have smaller races and training runs scheduled throughout the summer) and I want to be prepared.

I *think* I’m generally fat-adapted…but I panic after 8 or 9 miles sometimes (the old advice of “carb loading” always creeps back in) and will suck down a terrible gel or gatorade because I’ve made the mistake of running these distances underfueled before and it was a painful, painful lesson. I have heeded your electrolyte advice. I constantly track my sodium, magnesium and potassium levels and take the recommended supplements almost every day (normally on days with a taxing WOD or a workout lasting more than 90 mins).

So what can I eat/drink to keep on the keto train that will help me recover and keep me going on some of these endurance events? Nut butters? Whey protein and water? I want to be armed when I take on Vegas this year and not completely derail my eating habits. And I’d like to start experimenting with these foods now, while I still have time to adjust.

Sorry for writing the novel! If I can find this info in a podcast or in one of the chapters of your books, please feel free to point me in that direction! I appreciate any insight you guys have. Thanks in advance,

Cassandra

2. Should I Add Fat To My Whey Protein Shake? [10:40]

Ben says:

Hi!

Love the podcast (I am one of the six listeners)! Here is my question:

I am wondering if the insulin-spike from a post-workout whey shake can stall my weight loss. Should I add fat like heavy cream or coconut milk to the shake to blunt the insulin response (if yes how much) or am I unable to burn that fat because of the spiked insulin storing it as body fat instead.

Thank you so much and best wishes from Munich, Germany

Ben

3. Portal Circulation and Leaky Gut [14:36]

James says:

Hi Robb,

Thanks for your detailed answer to my question about sun exposure in Q&A #7. You provided a clear and concise answer which is hard to come by these days!

Following your book recommendations in Q&A #6 I hungrily delved into the Lecture notes on Human Metabolism (Thanks Nikki!) and within the first chapter encountered some information that gave me reason to pause.

The portal circulation, I’m certain that you can provide a more accurate and concise explanation of this system to your listeners than I can in this question, so I’ll leave that to you if that’s okay!

My question is: given that all blood (and therefore solutes) from the intestines are drained through the portal vein and through the liver – filtering out excess substrates and removing toxins such as ammonia from the blood before it enters ‘general circulation’, how can leaky gut have such a damaging effect on the body? It seems to me that the liver is a vital backstop in this process which is never mentioned when functional medicine practitioners talk about leaky gut – they give the impression that blood drains from the intestines straight into cardiovascular circulation and these fuel substrates are clanking around in our arteries causing inflammation which seems not to be the case!

Also how does this impact the gut hypothesis of heart disease (highly simplified here) where endotoxin is said to pass through the mucosal membrane into circulation, binding with LDL cholesterol, being attacked and immobilized by immune cells and ultimately ending up being sequestered into an arterial plaque because the immune system cannot destroy cholesterol or unbind the endotoxin from it.

Would the portal circulation not remove this endotoxin from the blood before it enters cardiovascular circulation and meets LDL particles? Is this disease process driven not only by a compromised intestinal lining but also by inefficient liver function?

Thank you for your time again guys, really appreciate your input

Kind Regards

James

4. Do I Have To Sprout My Nuts & Seeds? [20:10]

Joseph says:

Is phytic acid harmful or of benefit? Is it really necessary to jump thru the hoops of soaking & sprouting before consuming nuts & seeds? thank you

5. Caloric Estimate for Young Children? [25:10]

Rory says:

Is there an estimate for calories/pound when it comes to feeding my almost 3 year old (or any child for that matter, say 2-12? The teen years of course marking the onset of self-consciousness and peer pressure, thus thwarting any biological hard-wiring toward survival.)

Or is she still young enough to be biologically incapable of starving herself, at which point I should just trust that she has normally functioning satiety signals?

I ask specifically about my daughter because, as is par for the course in ‘Murica, she received antibiotics immediately after being born, so it’s not a stretch for me to imagine that she could have some kind of gut imbalance that could cause hormone dysregulation with her leptin/ghrelin.

Where you can find us:

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Transcript:

Download a copy of the transcript here (PDF)

Nicki: Don’t. Stop. Stop. We’re rolling.

Robb: We are rolling. What’s up wife?

Nicki: You know, just kind of riding the wave of chaos.

Robb: Indeed. Indeed. So, we’re in the throws of packing, getting ready to move.

Nicki: We had a nice visit from your friend, Steve yesterday.

Robb: Good friend of mine, Steve who… A 20 year military veteran flying a B1 Bomber and I got to hang out with him and we related many stories that we-

Nicki: I only met him once before, him and his wife once before, when Robb and I first met and let’s just say in the few hours that we spent together yesterday, I learned a lot about what you did as a teenager.

Robb: Yeah and most of it was probably incarceration worthy.

Nicki: There were lots of laughs.

Robb: We turned out okay.

Nicki: You guys survived.

Robb: Yep.

Nicki: Somehow.

Robb: Yep. We did. We did.

Nicki: What are you drinking?

Robb: I’m drinking a Salty Palmer, which is a black tea, Lipton ice tea specifically, with a-

Nicki: LMNT Citrus Salt.

Robb: … LMNT Citrus Salt in it and it’s pretty darn good.

Nicki: Really good. Okay.

Robb: Do you want to jump in on this thing?

Nicki: Sure. Let’s jump in. Our first question this week is from Cassandra and Cassandra wrote a very, very lengthy question and I’m just going to read-

Robb: Great detail, but it’s-

Nicki: Really wonderful detail, but I’m just going to read some sections of it. But the main gist of her question is, how do you recommend tackling post workout nutrition for endurance and high intensity sports while on keto? So let’s see here.

Nicki: Okay, so she says, “I think I’m generally fat adapted, but I panic after eight or nine miles sometimes because the old advice of carb bloating always creeps back in and I will suck down a terrible gel or Gatorade because I’ve made the mistake of running these distances under fuel before and it was a painful, painful lesson. I’ve heated your electrolyte advice and I constantly track my sodium, magnesium and potassium levels and take the recommended supplements almost every day. Normally on days with a taxing wad or a workout lasting more than 90 minutes. So what can I eat or drink to keep on the keto train that will help me recover and keep me going on some of these endurance events? Nut butters, whey protein and water. I want to be armed when I take on Vegas this year and not completely derail my eating habits and I’d like to start experimenting with these foods now while I still have time to adjust. Sorry for writing a novel.”

Nicki: So just to fill in some of the details, she has done several half marathons and a marathon and she’s wanting to do another full marathon later this year. The Rock and Roll in Las Vegas

Robb: Mm-hmm (affirmative). Mm-hmm (affirmative) and lots of great detail, so if you guys check out the show notes-

Nicki: We’ll post the full question, yeah.

Robb: … you can kind of dig into that stuff. So what one thing up front, I’m definitely not an endurance coach. We’ve dabbled in that area when we ran the gym, it wasn’t really my area of interests nor expertise. So I’m going to give some general guidelines, but I’m not an endurance coach. That said, one thing that I would recommend is following all the work from Zach Bitter. He has set multiple, I think national and world champion distances, 100 mile races, largely keto fueled, keto carnivore fueled. He drops in some carbs though. He has kind of a strategy around what he does with that. Part of what she related is she feels soreness and difficulty recovering after her hard sessions, in particular when she’s using carbs, interestingly.

Robb: This is one of the interesting things that folks that are in that keto, carnivore space seem to report they just seem to bounce back from workouts better. They don’t seem to get the delayed onset muscle soreness and all that stuff. It’s kind of funny, before we were recording this I was kind of noodling in the shower about how low carb in the context of a higher protein, like keto gain style, ketogenic diet or carnivore diet or even some of the old, original Loren Cordain protein recommendations. Even though it’s low carb technically, because you’re not eating carbohydrate as part of the diet, it’s not necessarily low glycogen.

Robb: The keto scene has gotten all freaked out about gluconeogenesis and being kicked out of ketosis, but this is all still super context driven stuff. For an individual that needs really, legit levels of ketones for say, like neurological condition or for cancer, co-treatment or something like that, then there’s a compelling reason to kind of limit protein.

Robb: But what’s interesting is that, and again I’m going to bounce around like there’s a zillion things I’m thinking about, but Charles Poliquin recommended for people who were not particularly carb sensitive, but doing high intensity training, a pretty high protein, low carb diet and then, supplemental glutamine post-workout because the glutamine was kind of a slow release way of topping off glycogen levels, both in the liver and the muscles. But that didn’t have some of the other side effects potentially of carbs and I know people are going to freak out. It’s like, “Oh, carbs aren’t the devil.” Yeah, they’re not, except when they are.

Robb: For some people like me, who still have some sort of GI problems or what have you, type one diabetics or people that are just tinkering with this stuff, there are other ways of getting reasonably good glycogen repletion, while also still staying in more of that kind of fat adapted world.

Robb: So one thing about this, we have to break this stuff into kind of training nutrition, event nutrition, post recovery nutrition. So during the event, this is definitely where she made the point that she needs to experiment with this stuff and see what’s what’s working. Again, I would kind of pun to what Zach Bitter does, as just kind of a beginning baseline.

Robb: I think that in general, if he’s doing something that’s more in that 100 mile pace, he stays pretty much fat and protein because he’s going to be going at such a gentle pace comparatively because he’s going to run for basically, like two days straight and so he just not going to get glycolytic. So, in that context then, there doesn’t necessarily need to be additional carbs or not much additional carbs to the degree that there might be a lot of elevation change or something like that. Therefore, going anaerobic, getting some glycolysis going on, then we might drop in some type of carb.

Robb: Again, you just have to play around with that stuff to see what sits well with gastric emptying and all that type of stuff. I feel like I’m just kind of bouncing around here, but it’s interesting. So, she also mentions that in the past, she was kind of worried at some point and this is where I think doing some training runs that are on the longer side and to establish like, how do you do? So she said that she panics after eight or nine miles sometimes. So there should probably be some like 12 or 15 mile runs consistently within the training block where you pressure test. It’s like, how do you feel at mile 10 through 15 with a particular type of training without necessarily doing a goo or something like that?

Robb: Even that said, there are a lot of people in the low carb space that, over the course of a day of activity like this, they may consume two or 300 grams of carbs on that day, which is still quite a bit less than what most other people are doing. But this is where there’s just a massive amount of individual variation. Again, I’m just not the most knowledgeable person on that side of things.

Robb: So, the takeaways, we don’t necessarily need to just cater towards ketosis. Don’t think about it being ketosis. Think about it being performance fueling. It may be on the lower carb side, it may be on the higher carb side. Even if it’s on the lower carb side, if our protein intake is higher, it doesn’t necessarily mean low glycogen for the body. So that can have all kinds of ramifications for recovery and nutrient intake.

Nicki: She definitely needs to make sure she’s not skimping on the protein.

Robb: Absolutely. Absolutely. Yeah. The one caveat with that and this is where it gets really detailed, in event training, you may be, particularly if water may be a little bit limited or what have you, higher protein intake requires more water to deal with the ammonia load that’s coming out of that. But you don’t necessarily want to go super low protein because you will burn through all your branched-chain amino acids and then, tryptophan levels raise. The person will be running along and they get sleepy and they’ll literally, fall asleep and it happens a lot on a bicycle, mid run or at a minimum you lose some of that kind of motivation because you’re getting sleepy.

Robb: So this is some of the stuff again, that folks just have to play with. Like what protein level keeps you mentally alert? Because you don’t have enough branched-chain amino acids in the mix. Some people use of branched-chain amino acids as part of their training mix and stuff like that. But this is again where, it’s just super outside of my-

Nicki: Wheelhouse.

Robb: … Yeah, my wheelhouse. But those are some kind of big, broad brush strokes to consider when you’re doing this stuff. Yeah. Yeah.

Nicki: Okay. Let’s see here. Next question is from Ben. Should I add fat to my whey protein shake? Ben says, “Hi, I love the podcast. I’m one of the six listeners. Here is my question. I’m wondering if the insulin spike from a post workout whey shake can stall my weight loss? Should I add fat, like heavy cream or coconut milk to the shake to blunt the insulin response? And if yes, how much or am I unable to burn that fat because of the spike insulin storing it as body fat instead? Thank you so much and best wishes from Munich, Germany.”

Robb: Man. So, whenever I see someone who’s… So clearly, I would read between the lines here, that the goal is fat loss, right? If you’re in a fat loss mode, you don’t need a shake. You just don’t. You need to chew food. Three meals a day, breakfast, lunch, dinner, possibly a snack. I rarely have a snack. I eat two, sometimes three meals a day. It just kind of depends, but you don’t need a snack and you really don’t need the shake as a baseline.

Robb: That’s not really answering the question, but we noticed this within our gym based practice and I kind of felt like… And I would have all kinds of people, like Spencer Nadolsky, who are like, “Oh, shakes aren’t the devil and everything.” But I just saw people spin out and they would go from eating pretty well and then, do liquid food. Then they were hungry and then, they would end up overeating pretty consistently.

Robb: Then I started hanging out with Tyler and Luis and really watched the way that they handled things within the keto gains group and man, they could’ve made a mint linking wagons with some protein company and recommending that. Just their ethics are so sound that, what they noticed was that people who are really legitimately struggling with weight loss don’t do well with liquid food, don’t do well with shakes. They need to eat unprocessed food for the most part.

Robb: So Ben, I would one… It kind of becomes a nonissue. If we get people eating whole and processed food, it’s not really going to be a problem. That said, in the context of eating beef or whey protein and the subsequent insulin response from that, it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, whether or not that’s going to influence fat loss overall. That’s still going to be driven by total caloric load, ultimately.

Robb: Some of the things mixed into that, if we get… Like in some people, and this is where some people will tolerate more or fewer carbs. If we get a disproportionate insulin response to carbohydrates and we get a low blood sugar environment, then people are going to tend to want to eat more food. We tend to not see this when the insulin response is from protein.

Robb: And this is another piece that’s kind of interesting when people talk about bodybuilding or recovery. Proteins do release insulin and so, you’re not necessarily always in a completely low insulin environment, even though you’re eating low carb. This gets born out, when you see the flip side of the crazy keto scene, where people are limiting protein intake because they’re freaked out about the insulin response to this whole thing.

Robb: So I know that’s kind of all over the place. But Ben, I would definitely ditch the shake and once you get to a level of leanness that is fantastic and you’re training like absolute crazy, such that three meals a day don’t work then…

Nicki: Then have the shake.

Robb: … dump a shake in. I wish that shakes did as well as real food but they just don’t. It’s another one of these things where we’ve really never recommended shakes. Here and there-

Nicki: Specific situations.

Robb: Yes. Specific situations. Yeah, so I think I beat that one to death.

Nicki: Okay. Let’s see. Our next question is from James on portal circulation and leaky gut. “Hi Robb. Thanks for your detailed answer to my question about sun exposure in QA number seven. Following your book recommendations in QA number six, I hungrily delved into the lecture notes on human metabolism. Thanks Nicki. And within the first chapter, I encountered some information that gave me reason to pause. The portal circulation, I’m certain that you can provide a more accurate and concise explanation of the system to your listeners than I can in this question, so I’ll leave that to you if that’s okay.

Nicki: My question is, given that all blood and therefore, solutes from the intestines are drained through the portal vein and through the liver, filtering out excess substrates and removing toxins, such as ammonia from the blood before it enters general circulation, how can leaky gut have such a damaging effect on the body? It seems to me that the liver is a vital backstop in this process, which was never mentioned, when functional medicine practitioners talk about leaky gut. They give the impression that blood drains from the intestines straight into the cardiovascular circulation and these fuel substrates are clinking around in our arteries causing inflammation, which seems not to be the case.

Nicki: Also, how does this impact the gut hypothesis of heart disease? Highly simplified here, where endotoxins is said to pass through the mucosal membrane into circulation, binding with LDL cholesterol, being attacked and immobilized by immune cells and ultimately, ending up being sequestered into an arterial plaque because the immune system cannot destroy cholesterol or unbind the endotoxin from it. With the portal circulation not removed, this endotoxin from the blood before it enters cardiovascular circulation and meets LDL particles. Is this disease process driven not only by a compromised intestinal lining but also by inefficient liver function? Thank you for your time. Really appreciate your input.”

Robb: That’s a great question and this is kind of, definitely before, oh, one question. This is kind of-

Nicki: Super advanced.

Robb: … Chris Masterjohn area. Usually, he’s the one that delves into stuff like this, but it’s a fantastic question. So for people that aren’t familiar with this, the portal circulation is the kind of circulatory loop that drains the gut and goes, as what James said, largely to liver and we do get it… This is where chylomicrons, the packages of lipids are unstitched and reshuffled and put into triglycerides and into lipoproteins. Proteins are kind of sorted and shuffle. Carbohydrates are stored at least, in part, in the liver. Then also throughout the rest of the body and that’s actually, a great example of this LPS story that James is alluding to.

Robb: What he’s asking here is a great question. In this leaky gut story, there’s this discussion around lipopolysaccharide, which is kind of the cellular identification matrix around bacteria and this stuff is incredibly inflammatory in all vertebrates. It sends the vertebrate immune system into kind of an overdrive response. But James, if we just subbed out LPS for carbohydrate, this pretty much answers the story.

Robb: So although dietary carbohydrate fills some, potentially all of the liver glycogen, there’s virtually always more that goes to the rest of the body. So although it removes some, it does not remove all. In the case of this LPS story in general, the liver should be effective. The liver in conjunction with the lipoproteins, the lipoproteins like LDL lipoproteins, LDL cholesterol, HDL cholesterol, these things bond to LPS and it tends to help in the detoxification of this substance. But if we have more LPS than what we’re really able to deal with-

Nicki: The liver handles some and the rest-

Robb: The liver handles some and then, we get the the spillover and that’s one piece of the story. Another piece of the story is that a lot of the lipid containing substances don’t go directly into the portal system. It goes into the lymphatic system and the lymphatic system then dumps in right around the aorta.

Robb: So it does make it into general circulation without going through the liver first. So that one year of medical school anatomy actually pays off every once in a while. So, this is a great question though. There are kind of two directions that the LPS story gets around the liver.

Robb: The first one is that there may just be more occurring than what the liver can reasonably detoxifying. Then the other part is the lipid constituents that end up in the lymphatic system, also end up dumped into general circulation, do ultimately make it into the liver, but that’s another spot where this stuff ends up.

Robb: Yeah, but a really good question. Lecture Notes on Human Metabolism is just an outstanding book. Really, really good. It was oriented for individuals heading towards medical school. So it was kind of, an end of their senior year. Like how to pull all the biochemistry, cellular biology, vertebrate physiology all together and make some sense of it. The MD-PhD who put that book together, he oriented a bunch of pharmaceuticals into it. He talked about statins, he talked about blood pressure mentally. It’s really an outstanding book, yeah.

Nicki: Okay. Let’s see. Our next question is on phytic acid from Joseph. “Is phytic acid harmful or of benefit? Is it really necessary to jump through the hoops of soaking and sprouting before consuming nuts and seeds?”

Robb: What do you think on this wife? What’s your gut sense?

Nicki: A lot of people do find benefit when they soak and sprout.

Robb: For sure and I would throw this under the, it depends category. So phytates and even… Gosh, there’s this stuff out of rice, I want to say. Ip-6, which is kind of one of these bonding chemicals, kind of a culation type chemicals. They can be beneficial in some circumstances and they can be a bastard in other circumstances. Georgia Ede who is a psychiatrist and really incredibly knowledgeable on this stuff, has some great studies where individuals would eat something like oysters, which are very high in zinc, and you would quantify the amount of zinc in the oysters. Then the person would consume it and they would actually do some plasma zinc analysis. So they can show, “Okay, the before oyster, plasma zinc was here and post-oyster plasma…” So it’s showing that you’re absorbing it or it’s magically appearing in your bloodstream, one or the other.

Robb: Then she showed eating the same oyster meal, but with either say, fruit or corn tortillas. The fruit does not have phytates in it. The corn tortillas have quite a lot and the corn tortillas, plus the zinc source, basically made the zinc absorption zero. I mean, it just gutted it.

Robb: So this is one of these things that’s really interesting and in looking at a lot of the Weston A. Price stuff, traditional cultures bent over backwards to soak and sprout and ferment and process grains, legumes and even dairy, for the most part. So, I think that there was some really good wisdom to all that. It kind of dovetails around on another piece around this kind of emerging story around the carnivore concept and whatnot and I could make a case that… How do I want to say this?

Robb: The amount of plant material that we eat is allowable only up to the point that it displaces animal products. At some point the overconsumption of plant material could potentially cause nutrient depletion. I know this is going to be a super controversial topic, but when you look at, let’s say just things like spinach, they may contain different nutrients that may be valuable and they may look like they’re in a large amount, particularly from a nutrient density standpoint, like a percentage of folate per calorie. But the thing is, the plant based materials are not that absorbable and oftentimes have constituents in them, like phytates that are antagonistic towards their absorption.

Robb: These things can also interfere with… They’re basically protease inhibitors, so they inhibit the ability to break down protein, both plant and animal protein. So again, how important is it? I think it boils down a little bit to individual situations. But I think to the degree that people can get away with not doing this, is reflective of all the other right stuff they’re doing. Also, I think that you’re just kind of beating your system a little bit. Like there’s some pressure testing that’s occurring there.

Robb: So, if you’re going to do bread, I would do something like Ezekiel bread that’s been soaked and sprouted and all that type of stuff. A lot of people are finding these ancient grains, like the Einhorn wheat and then soaking, sprouting, doing the sourdough mix that that helps to break down the gluten and all that stuff. Although there’s some great literature indicating that not a lot of celiacs still react to the Einhorn wheat, even after it’s gone through all of that stuff.

Robb: I’ll be completely honest, even though the Weston A. Price stuff is pretty cool, I think that this is still why a lot of people are pretty fucked up in that scene. Because they’re just logistically dogmatic about having these foods and they don’t realize that even some pastured dairy may be problematic for some people. Yeah. Yeah.

Robb: So, it’s super context driven, and this is again, where if somebody has general problems or they’re just wanting to ask a question, if they may be grain, dairy or legume reactive, pull them out for 30 days, reintroduce and see how you do. But I would say that to the degree, that you process these things with these traditional methods. It’s definitely going to improve the nutrient value of those foods and it’s going to decrease the likelihood of damaging the nutrient value of other foods.

Nicki: Okay. Let’s see. Our final question this week is from Rory. He wants to know about a caloric estimate for young children. Rory says, “Is there an estimate for calories per pound when it comes to feeding my almost three year old or any child for that matter, say from two to 12? The teen years of course, make marking the onset of self-consciousness and peer pressure, thus thwarting any biological hard-wiring towards survival or is she still young enough to be biologically incapable of starving herself? At which point, I should just trust that she has a normally functioning, satiety signals? I ask specifically, about my daughter because as is par for the course in America, she received antibiotics immediately after being born. So it’s not a stretch for me to imagine that she could have some kind of gut imbalance that could cause hormone dysregulation with her leptin and ghrelin.”

Robb: Good question, but my gut sense is, Rory’s probably being a little too worried about this. Also, I don’t know how early… How old did she say?

Nicki: Three.

Robb: She said she’s three.

Nicki: Almost three.

Robb: Okay. I mean, I know there are some benchmarks out there. I think it’s something like 16 or 18 calories per pound or maybe it’s 20 calories per pound. I forget off the top of my head, but it’s a lot of calories generally. But even if you know this, then it’s like you’re going to weigh and measure their food and then, you need to weigh and measure what they didn’t eat and you need to separate out the protein, carbs, fat.

Nicki: That’s a lot of work.

Robb: It’s a lot of fucking work. The risk-reward deal, I just don’t see. Yeah.

Nicki: I think you feed them and they eat until they’re-

Robb: Full.

Nicki: … full. Especially if you’re feeding him unprocessed, real foods, they’re not going to overeat.

Robb: Right and they will generally not under eat and also, kids tend to cycle.

Nicki: They do cycle, yeah.

Robb: Zoe and Sagan, it’s funny. We don’t have a pool, but our friend has a pool and we’ve been taking them swimming. On the days when they swim, they don’t really eat that much and you’re like, “Man, they should be really hungry.” But then I tell you what, the next day, they eat everything that’s not nailed down. They just don’t want to get out of the water. So they might have an Epic bar or something like that and just kind of a little snack here and there. But they’re so excited to swim that they won’t get out and they might do a half decent dinner. But then oftentimes, they are so smoked by the end of the day of swimming. I mean, like six hours of swimming. There in the sun and all the rest of that. They don’t even really eat that much. They’re almost passing out at the table.

Robb: But then, the next day they get up and they eat everything. Which I think is a really… that’s a great… In general, kids tend to do a really good job with that. I think that this is something that, over the course of time because of my kind of power lifting background, for ages, I just kind of over ate because I felt like I needed to eat more. I finally, at almost 50, have gotten to a spot where it’s like, if I just kind of sit on my duff all day, I don’t need that much food. Then on the day where I’m real active, I may lift weights and do two hours of Jujitsu, I eat a lot of food that day and then, maybe even the following day I’m like, “Man, I’m pretty hungry.” So I end up eating more.

Robb: If we’re not eating odd foods, I think that the appetite control mechanisms are very well in place and I wouldn’t worry about a round of antibiotics displacing that stuff. It’s a great question to ask, but I wouldn’t be overly concerned about that. Anything else as a mom to cap that off?

Nicki: I don’t think so. I think it is cyclic. I mean, I think that’s fairly normal, where one day they might eat a ton and the next day it tapers off a bit. She’s not going to starve herself.

Robb: Nope. Nope. The thing that we do, we kind of make it a speed bump method. We really kind of hold the kid’s feet to the fire. It’s like, you got eat your protein and then, if you want some more of this other stuff, then we kind of open it up and that works. That works fine.

Robb: We have noticed, even within the two kids, if Sagan in particular, who seems to kind of take after me a little bit more, at least in some ways, if she doesn’t get enough protein, that kid gets cranky, real cranky. It’s just like a switch just flips and then, she’ll eat and she’s good. I think she ends up potentially, getting a little bit of these kind of blood sugar changes, if she’s not getting enough protein. So, you’ll notice a little bit of variability on that.

Robb: Whereas, I think Zoe is a little bit more like you and just a little more even keel, with regards to… She’ll eat a lot of protein, but even if she doesn’t, it doesn’t seem to affect her quite the same way. But Sagan’s also going through growth spurt, so I don’t know how much of that’s going on.

Nicki: She’s sleeping like 15 hours at night.

Robb: Yeah. Yeah and she’s just been sprouting. So that’s a whole other crazy thing to this and it’s been funny all the way along. Now that the girls are basically seven and five, the changes aren’t quite as dramatic. Maybe up to about three years old, maybe four years old, it feels like every time you kind of get dialed in on one sequence, then they change and you’ve got to rejigger things. But they still change over time and for sure right now, Sagan is growing a lot, sleeping a lot and we noticed that if she doesn’t eat well, she will get some cranky McCrankerkins going on. Yeah.

Nicki: Yeah. I think that’s a wrap for this week.

Robb: Yep. Yep. Thank you guys for the awesome questions. Enjoyed doing this, as always. Most of my activity, at least for a while, is still over at Instagram @dasrobbwolf. This episode brought to you by…

Nicki: Drink LMNT, LMNT Recharge and hope you guys are all having a great and safe summer.

Robb: We’ll talk to you guys soon. Take care.

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