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lesfeldickbiblestudy · 1 year

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Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 2 * PART 4 * BOOK 66 BUT GOD! (Confirming the Promises) – Part 4 MATTHEW 16:15 – But whom say ye that I am? Again, for those of you out in television, we want to thank you for your prayers and your letters of comfort. I mean, they are just a thrill to read. 99 out of 100 are so thrilling and show that the Lord is opening His Word and hearts. That’s all we really want to do. So, how else can I put it but that we thank you out there. Well, let’s buy up the time and get back into God’s Word. I think that in this half-hour we’ll just continue where we’ve been all afternoon. I didn’t intend to do this. I thought I’d be on another ‘But Now’ by now. But this is too important to leave hanging by a thread, so I’m going to stay with it through this next half-hour. We are showing how Peter had an understanding, when he made his profession of faith back there in Matthew chapter 16 at the end of the three years of earthly ministry, when he said, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." Peter knew that Christ fulfilled all of these promises that God had made to the Nation of Israel concerning this coming King and Kingdom, and that He’d be a Redeemer as well as Messiah. All right, now Israel rejected Him, according to God’s Divine purposes, and God raised Him from the dead and called Him back to glory. Now the Twelve are left in a dilemma, they don’t know how long until He will return and bring in this glorious earthly Kingdom. They’re still hoping and they have this hope because He’s alive! He’s not in the tomb, He’s alive, and He is at the Father’s right hand. According to Psalms 110 verse 1, when He had all of His enemies like a footstool, which would come at the end of the Tribulation, He would return. And when He returns, He would bring in this glorious Kingdom. Of course, I think these men had the idea that it was still going to be in their lifetime, until they got nearly to the end. Now we know that Jesus implied that Peter would suffer death, but you know, we’re all prone to put these bad things aside. We just sort of forget about them, and I think Peter was the same way. He’d forgotten all about that until he got to the end of his life, and he suddenly realized that Christ was not coming in his lifetime, and that he would be a martyr instead. But, let’s pick him up again in Acts chapter 2, and Peter is fired up that the hope of Israel is the return of their crucified, resurrected Messiah, but he doesn’t associate one iota of salvation to it. And that’s what I want people to see. Just watch the language. He does not say that by believing in the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ they would have a salvation experience, as is the requirement for us today in this Age of Grace. It was only by believing who He was. That was the crux of the Kingdom Gospel, to believe that Jesus was the Christ. The Law and everything is still in place. There is not a word, not a word, that they were to stop temple worship. Not a word that they were to stop keeping the Jewish laws of food and what have you. Not a word that they were to stop Saturday Sabbath keeping at the Synagogue. So be aware of that. It’s just not in here. All right, so we were down to about verse 24 of Acts chapter 2 in our last half-hour. Let’s move on to verse 25 and see how Peter is referring his readers constantly back to the Old Testament prophets, because like Paul said, He, Christ, was the minister to the Nation of Israel, to fulfill the promises made to the fathers. And Peter is honing in on this. He’s reminding them that this is all as a result of fulfilled prophecy. Acts 2:25-27a "For David (in the Psalms) speaketh concerning him, I foresaw the Lord always before my face, for he is on my right hand, that I should not be moved: 26. Therefore did my heart rejoice, and my tongue was glad; moreover also my flesh shall rest in hope: 27. (He’s quoting, literally, the Lord Jesus Himself in His death and burial, and so He says…) Because thou wilt not leave my soul in hell,…" That was the paradise side.

Remember that Luke shows us torment on one side, paradise on the other. Jesus did not go into the flames of torment like some teach. He went into the paradise side. I always tell people, what did Jesus tell the thief on the cross? Today thou shall be with me in the flames of hell? Did He? No. That’s what some teach you know. Famous people are saying that. No. He said, "Today thou shalt be with me in paradise." Paul makes it so plain in Ephesians, "but what is it that he descended first and then ascended up, taking captivity captive." He didn’t go into the lost realms of hell. He went into the paradise side of that area called Hell, or Hades, and took those believing Old Testament saints with him up into paradise, which is now in Heaven. All right, so he says again: Acts 2:27 "Thou will not leave my soul in hell, (in the paradise side) neither wilt thou suffer (permit) thine Holy One to see corruption." His body never had one iota of corruption in those three days. Not a bit. All right, now verse 28, it’s still from the pen of David, but remember, he’s putting the words of the Lord Jesus Himself in prophetic form. Acts 2:28 "Thou hast made known to me the ways of life; thou shalt make me full of joy with thy countenance." Now verse 29, Peter comes back to the reality of his own day, and he says: Acts 2:29 "Men and brethren, (fellow Jews) let me freely speak unto you of the patriarch David, that he is dead and buried, and his sepulcher is with us unto this day." David was not raised and gone up to glory. He was speaking of the Christ. All right, now verse 30: Acts 2:30a "Therefore being a prophet,…" Now most people don’t usually speak of David as a prophecy writer, but he was. He wrote a lot of prophecy. Especially concerning the crucifixion. Psalms 22 is graphic, we’ve used it on the program. Acts 2:30b "…and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him, that of the fruit of his loins, according to the flesh, he would raise up Christ to sit on his throne;" All right, now in a few words, what’s that telling us? The House of David, that royal lineage that began with King David and came all the way down to Christ’s birth at Bethlehem, this was all in the promises made to David, out of the fruit of his loins, out of his genealogy, the Christ would come. I always use two lines, because you’re got the genealogy of Joseph, His legal father on one side, and you’ve got the genealogy of Mary on the other side, and they culminate with the birth of Christ. That’s the House of David coming to fulfillment. All right, that’s what Peter is showing. It was all prophesied that beginning with David’s bloodlines Christ would come on the scene and would one day sit on David’s throne. Now verse 31, if you think I’m pulling your leg. Acts 2:31-33 "He seeing this before spake of (What?) the resurrection of Christ, that his soul was not left in hell, (again in the paradise side of hell) neither did his flesh see corruption. 32. This Jesus (this Messiah, this Son of God) hath God raised up (from the dead), whereof we are all witnesses. 33. Therefore (Peter says) being by the right hand of God (Not on God’s throne) exalted, and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he hath shed forth this, (On this day of Pentecost in Jerusalem, the Holy Spirit has come down.) which ye now see and hear." Now he comes back to David again. He says: Acts 2:34-35a "For David is not ascended into the heavens: (David’s remains are still in the tomb.) but he saith himself, the LORD said unto my Lord, sit thou on my right hand, 35. Until…" I always make the point, that’s a time word. He’s going to sit at the Father’s right hand until it’s time to return to planet earth. That won’t happen until He has defeated all of His enemies, which will take place, of course, in the seven years of Tribulation. Acts 2:35-36a Until I make they foes thy footstool. (That’s Psalms 110 verse 1.) 36. Therefore (Again, watch the language.) let all the house of Israel…" Now, that’s a double-barreled statement.

How many people today are still teaching that there are only two tribes of Israel left? That the ten were lost and disappeared? Well, then Peter could not say "the whole House of Israel," that’s only two-tenths. But they are all here. In fact, I told one of my callers the other day, I’d risk my whole ranch - cattle, machinery, the whole shebang - on the fact that I think all twelve tribes are already represented in Israel, right now today. I think we’re that close to the end. When the two witnesses appear and it’s time to choose 144,000 young Jewish men, twelve thousand from every one of the twelve tribes, I think they’re all ready to go. Now, that’s my own take. That’s all it’s worth. But ten tribes did not disappear. They had all been migrating down into Judah over the years. Yes, what was left the Syrians took captive, but that was only a small remnant of the whole. The rest were already back down in the environs of the temple and Jerusalem and the two tribes. So, when the Babylonian captivity came in, all twelve tribes were represented. When you read Ezra and Nehemiah, it’s so obvious that when they came back to Jerusalem, all twelve tribes were represented. So, don’t believe this garbage that ten tribes are gone and there’s only two left. Then this whole Book would fall apart, because Revelation says as plain as day that there has to be twelve thousand from each one of the twelve tribes. Well, that can’t happen if ten of them are gone! Now back to verse 36, the whole House of Israel, every Tribe represented. Acts 2:36 "Therefore let the whole house of Israel (How many Gentiles? Not a one. He doesn’t include a Gentile. This is a Jewish message.) know assuredly, that God hath made that same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ." Now remember, the word Christ is what again? Messiah. He doesn’t stop the potential of being the Messiah of Israel. The crucifixion was something that God pre-planned for the salvation of mankind. But it didn’t affect His Messiahship. Peter is not recognizing anything pertaining to the death, burial, and resurrection, except that Israel in unbelief rejected Him and killed Him, but God proved His power by raising Him from the dead, and He can still bring in the Kingdom. We’ll show you that in the next few verses. All right, verse 37, of course they begin to have second thoughts. Well, Peter, you’re proving that we did it. We killed our Messiah. Then you come to the end of verse 37, and naturally they ask: Acts 2:37b "…Men and brethren, what shall we do?" The Nation. They’re in a dilemma. They’ve rejected their Messiah. They killed Him, but God raised Him from the dead. So now, what do we do? That’s logical, isn’t it? Look at Peter’s answer. Acts 2:38 "Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized (Yes, that was part of the Kingdom message.) every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for (the forgiveness or) the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." Now, we did it on our Aegean Cruise. I laid it out just as plainly one night in our Bible class, that here we have Peter’s process for salvation, laid out as plain as English can make it. "Repentance. Water baptism. Forgiveness of sin. Then the Holy Spirit." It is as plain as day. But then when he gets over to the house of Gentiles, poor old Peter was all shook up. It didn’t work that way. While he’s still preaching in Acts chapter 10, the Romans had become believers! God had forgiven them. The Holy Spirit came upon them, and not a drop of water had touched them! Boy, that puts a lot of preachers in a dilemma even today. Well, Peter was up against the same thing. So, what’s the first thing he says, hey, we’ve got to baptize them – after the fact. Here in Acts chapter 2, Peter makes it so plain what the Jew had to do to have salvation, having rejected their Messiah. He doesn’t associate anything about the shed blood. Not a word of that in here. Not a word about all the power of resurrection for their salvation.

But it was believe in the One you rejected, repent of it and be baptized, and you can have salvation. All right, now if you doubt me, let’s go on a little further. Chapter 3, now he’s going to heal the lame man, and the language hasn’t changed a bit. Acts chapter 3 verse 12; he’s just healed the lame man at the gates, or the door, of the temple. Acts 3:12-15a "And when Peter saw it, (the consternation of the Jewish people) he answered unto the people, (Now watch the language.) Ye men of Israel, (Not a word about Gentiles) why marvel ye at this? (this healing of this lame man) or why look ye so earnestly on us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made this man to walk? 13. The God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, the God of our fathers, (Any Gentiles in that term? Not a one. Can’t be. He is talking to a Jewish situation.) hath glorified his Son Jesus; whom ye delivered up, and denied him in the presence of Pilate, when he was determined to let him go. 14. But ye denied the Holy One and the Just, and desired a murderer to be granted unto you. 15. And killed the Prince of life,…" My, he’s laying it on them, isn’t he? Now you talk about a guilt trip. That’s a guilt trip. But it was true. They were nationally guilty. But what was their remedy? Repent of it. That’s why repentance was so imperative here. I guess I’ve got time. I’m going to explain. I have people calling all the time. They get upset because I do not maintain you have to repent to be saved today. Paul doesn’t teach it. And the reason is because they’re trying to use these verses in Acts and hammer it home today. Well, you see, Israel had every reason in the world to repent. They had killed their promised Messiah. You and I are not responsible for that. In fact, I always have to think of a long time ago. We won a fellow to the Lord who was probably as ungodly as they come, in every category of life. And he was gloriously saved. Sometime later he said, "You know, Les, something bothers me. I keep hearing all the time you’ve got to repent, repent." He says, "I never repented when I got saved. And he said, "I didn’t realize there was anything to repent of." He said, "Everything I was doing came naturally." I said you’re right. That’s exactly the way it is. We don’t have a great big conviction of sin, because we’re not aware of all these things. We’re just doing what comes naturally in our lost estate. So, Paul doesn’t require repentance. Paul requires only one thing and that is what? Believe it! Faith in that finished work of the cross and His resurrection. Now then, here’s where I get back at them. Yes, as soon as you believe the Gospel of salvation, and God works the work of salvation in your heart and life, what are you going to do? You’re going to change direction. You’re going to repent, if that’s the word you want to use. But, to use it for salvation today, it’s as wrong as wrong can be, because, again, repentance is a ‘work.’ You can make up your own mind that, hey, I’m going to change my life. I want to do different. That doesn’t save you. But I’ll tell you what, when the Holy Spirit comes in and He makes a difference in your life, then you don’t have any trouble changing direction. So, don’t fall for this stuff that if you haven’t repented, God can’t save you. Israel knew where they had gone off the deep end. They had killed their Messiah. They had to repent of that and that in particular in order to obtain salvation. But for us, we believe it, as we are going to see before the end of the half-hour, and then salvation comes in, and then we’re going to change our direction, or we’re going to have repentance. All right, let’s continue where we left off in Acts chapter 3. Peter has healed the lame man, and he’s still dealing on Jewish ground. Now then, he comes down to verse 16, and he’s explaining how this lame man had experienced physical healing. And he says: Acts 3:16a "And his name through faith (in His death, burial and resurrection? Is that what your Bible says? Faith in His what?) in his name hath made this man strong,.

.." His name! And what did the name imply? He was the Messiah. And we come right back to square one. What was Peter’s confession of faith? "Thou art the Messiah." That’s all. It’s no different here. This lame man believed who Jesus was, and on that basis God healed him. Not a word about death, burial, and resurrection. Not a word about shed blood, yet. It’s all in believing who He really was. All right, come all the way down to verse 19 again. Acts 3:19 "Repent ye therefore, (It’s the same scenario. Repent of having rejected your Messiah.) and be converted, (have a change of mind, have a change of direction) that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord;" Now, he’s not talking about the glorious Christian life. What’s he talking about? The Earthly Kingdom. If Israel had repented, Israel, to the last man, would have come into this kind of salvation. Now look at verse 20, what would God do? Acts 3:20 "And he shall send Jesus Christ, who before was preached unto you:" And what was He preached as? The coming King. God would fulfill it IF Israel would have repented and become a believing Nation, but they would not. But that was the whole idea, repent of having killed your Messiah, and if you do it to the last Jew, God will send Jesus Christ to yet bring in the Kingdom. All right, verse 21, Peter knows, according to the Old Testament, that even as prosperous as, what is the word I’m looking for? As a possibility that this was, yet Peter knew that there was one seven-year interval that they still had to go through. What was it? The Tribulation. The Nation of Israel would have to go through the Tribulation, because that was prophecy. You can’t kick parts of prophecy out under any circumstances. God has to maintain all these things. So, Peter says in verse 21: Acts 3:21 "Whom the heaven must receive (That is when He ascended to sit at the Father’s right hand.) until (There’s the time word. He would have to stay in heaven.) the times of restitution of all things, (or putting everything back as it was in the beginning) which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world (ages) began." And what was it? That after these horrible seven years of wrath and vexation, Christ would return and the earth would be made as it was in the very beginning in the Garden of Eden, and the King and His Kingdom would become a reality. And these people thought that they were going to live to see the day. They thought it would just be a matter of seven, eight, nine years, and it would all be culminated. They had no idea that it was going to be pushed out into the future for 2000 years. All right, now let me bring you on down in this same chapter 3 to verse 24. He says: Acts 3:24 "Yea, all the prophets from Samuel and those that follow after, as many as have spoken, have likewise foretold of these days." Why does he mention Samuel? Because Samuel is in the time of David, and David is when these promises really began to be understandable. All right, now he says in verse 25. Acts 3:25-26 "Ye are the children of the prophets, (Now that doesn’t include Gentiles. There’s not a Gentile involved in Peter’s thinking.) and of the covenant which God made with our fathers, saying unto Abraham, And in thy seed shall all the kindreds of the earth be blessed. 26. Unto you first God, (That is the Nation of Israel.) having raised up his Son Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning away every one of you from his iniquities." That was the promise. But did they do it? No. They rejected and they rejected. When Stephen makes the final appeal in Acts chapter 7, they stoned Stephen, and then we’re introduced to the other side of the coin, which we now call the Gospel of the Grace of God, and who is it? Saul of Tarsus. My, it’s beautiful how Scripture just keeps unfolding. All right, go back with me to Acts chapter 7 and we have the stoning of Stephen. You’re all acquainted with that. Now come into chapter

8 verse 1, and here we’re introduced to the next major player on God’s stage of Biblical history. Acts 8:1 "And Saul was consenting unto his death. (Stephen’s) And at that time there was a great persecution against the church (assembly), which was at Jerusalem; and they were all scattered abroad throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles." The Twelve didn’t go out into the world preaching the Gospel. They stayed in Jerusalem. What are you going to believe? Christendom? Or the Book? Well, the Book says they stayed in Jerusalem. All right, now we’ll just make one quick reference to it. I’m going to bring you over to I Corinthians chapter 1. I only have a few seconds left, so we’ll do this quickly. Now, whereas Peter said, "Repent and be baptized every one of you." Look what this next apostle writes to the Corinthian Church and to you and I today. I Corinthians 1:17-18 "For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of no effect. (Now here it comes.) 18. For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us who are saved it is the power of God." What a difference! Now you see, all Paul knows is that salvation comes by only one way. Believing the Gospel he presented in I Corinthians 15:1-4

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arsonsamruby · 3 years

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happy cram monday

do i regret writing this? kind of. yeah. i simply do think that crowley considers himself sam’s toxic hookup and sam considers him literally Nothing. the desperation is funny maybe. well. to me it is.

i did actually TRY on this but i genuinely don’t know if it came out ok. it’s not even 900 words

Sam hates this case. It’s dogshit.

Dean’s not here, first of all, so Sam had to get the motel for himself, do everything by himself. Sam had to eat alone, and his hair hates the humidity, he has an endless list of complaints in his head that each add up to him being miserable.

He texts Cas again.

Update on recovering michael lance?

He rolls over on his stomach, pressing his cheek against the cooler pillow. The phone pings at his side, he checks it.

No dice.

No Michael lance, and still a sweltering room on his own, and it’s only going to get hotter when he starts shoveling for bones. Sometimes, he wonders why he still does this.

God, has it begun to dig in at his sides. Like scritch scratching little fingernails.

Sam showers, falls into bed, ready to crucify the inactivity shadowing him. It’s at least another week before he returns to the shelter of the bunker. Last resort, he calls Cas for a pickup. His life is a greatest hits playlist of absolutely fucking nothing.

He could call Crowley. He’d probably have information on the Michael lance, and give it up, too, if Sam plays it right. It doesn’t take much to play Crowley right.

He flips over, reaching for a flannel and typing with one hand on his phone.

I’m in Louisiana

It doesn’t take long. Sam groans in annoyance at the knock on the door, opening it to reveal Crowley and a patented- grin? Is that even a grin? He looks like a dick. “Came running as soon as you called, Moose.”

Sam raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, until the smile falters and goes away. Crowley scowls. “I need help on this case.”

“Help on a case? I thought you called me for- never mind.”

“I’m going to go to bed. If you could do the research for me, I’d be really grateful.” He yawns.

“Now, I’m not your little dog.” Crowley pokes a finger at Sam’s chest. He hasn’t done much but prove he’s short. “I’m not here at your beck and call, to finish your- your paperwork when you’re tired!” he spits.

“Crowley, be my guest and go. I’m sleeping.” Pockets of steam could be emerging from his ears.

What is wrong with Sam that it gives him a sick sense of satisfaction? It only gets better as he watches Crowley march to the table, hand clenching on the library book Sam had brought here, and check out what he had already. Sam hits the blankets.

His eyes crack open at the sound of tinny television gunfire. “Is that a World War 2 documentary?” he asks.

Crowley cocks his head. “What about it?”

“I hate that shit, turn it off.” Sam snuggles into the quilt. Those things remind him of his dad. He was obsessed with World War 2. “Crowley,” he repeats, to drive in the point, until the room is filled with silence.

There is an insistent tapping on his shoulder. Sam is going to hit them in five, four, three, two-

“Wake up, Moose.”

Fucking demon shit. He has a crease in his cheek from the pillowcase but he slept like a baby, and if…. Whatever Sam has that inspires this desperation in Crowley has worked, he will be well on his way home by noon. “I am up and I am about to throttle you.”

Crowley pauses. “Kinky. It’s fine, I’ll like it.”

“What do you want from me?”

The expression on his face is probably meant to be alluring. It’s smarmy at best, laughable at worst. Sam chuckles at him- expect the worst from Crowley. It’s good fortune that he’s choosing to act like this instead of something more unbearable. “A date?” He pauses. “No?”

Sam laughs. “Trust me, last thing I’d want from you is a date.”

Crowley shakes his head. “The good ones are always straight… brutal out here for men like me.”

“I’m not straight. I just don’t want you.”

Crowley sputters. “Do you want the Michael lance, or not?” he asks after getting his wits about him.

“What?”

“I got you your little biblical weapon, and I can offer it in exchange for… hmm. A date.”

“Never in my life would I agree to such a shitty deal, Crowley. How about you give it to me, I’ll give you a more permanent number so you can bother me on a semi-regular basis-” Crowley scoffs, offended, “-and we’ll leave it there.”

Sam watches him, wary. “You’ll need to seal it with a kiss,” Crowley says eventually, with a sly smile.

As if Sam cares. He leans in, bending over- goddammit, he’s shorter than Jess. He’ll remember that next time Dean needs a laugh- and locking lips. Crowley’s eyes are closed.

He has his hand fastened to Sam’s neck and doesn’t let go until Sam pries him off. “Lance?”

“What, did you feel nothing?”

Sam blinks. Was he supposed to feel something? “Lance.”

Crowley is apoplectic. “Deal’s a deal, I suppose,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll see you again?”

Sam shrugs. He has what he needs.

#cram #crowley #sam winchester #cram monday #my fic

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 3 years

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Songs & Characters Pedro Pascal

High As Hope / Florence + The Machine

Fourth and final part! Part 1 here Part 2 here and Part 3 here if you want to check them out. I’ve had a lot of fun doing this and hope to do more in the future, so if there are specific characters, albums, or artist combos you want, feel free to let me know.

Lyrics and their characters below the cut.

June / Ezra, Marcus Pike

Ezra / I hear your heart beating in your chest The world slows till there's nothing left Skyscrapers look on like great, unblinking giants (Oh)

In those heavy days in June When love became an act of defiance

Marcus Pike / You were broken-hearted and the world was too And I was beginning to lose my grip And I have always held it loosely But this time, I admit I felt it really start to slip

And choirs sing in the street And I would come to you To watch the television screen In your hotel room I'm always down to hide with you

Hunger / Max Phillips, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell

Max Phillips / At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then, the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

We all have a hunger We all have a hunger

Frankie Morales / I thought that love was in the drugs But the more I took, the more it took away And I could never get enough I thought that love was on the stage You give yourself to strangers You don't have to be afraid And then it tries to find a home with people, or when I'm alone Picking it apart and staring at your phone

Oberyn Martell / Tell me what you need, oh, you look so free The way you use your body, baby, come on and work it for me Don't let it get you down, you're the best thing I've seen We never found the answer but we knew one thing

And it's Friday night and it's kicking in In that pink dress, they're gonna crucify me Oh, and you in all your vibrant youth How could anything bad ever happen to you? You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment

South London Forever / Marcus Pike, Maxwell Lord, Ezra

Marcus Pike / And I go home alone I drive past the place that I was born And the places that I used to drink Young and drunk and stumbling in the street Outside the Joiners Arm's like foals unsteady on their feet With the art students and the boys in bands High on E and holding hands with someone that I just met

Maxwell Lord / I thought it doesn't get Better than this There can be nothing better than this Better than this And we climbed onto the roof, the museum And someone made love in the grass And I'd forgot my name And the way back to my mother's house With your black cool eyes and your bitten lips The world is at your fingertips It doesn't get better than this What else could be better than this?

Ezra / And we're just children wanting children of our own I want a space to watch things grow But did I dream too big? Do I have to let it go? What if one day there is no such thing as snow? Oh God, what do I know?

And I don't know anything (uh uh uh) Except that green is so green And there's a special kind of sadness that seems to come with spring

Big God / Dave York, Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

Dave York / You keep me up at night To my messages, you do not reply You know I still like you the most The best of the best and the worst of the worst Well, you can never know The places that I go I still like you the most You'll always be my favorite ghost

You need a big god Big enough to hold your love You need a big God Big enough to fill you up

Whiskey / Sometimes I think it's getting better And then it gets much worse Is it just part of the process? Jesus Christ, it hurts Though I know I should know better Well, I can make this work Is it just part of the process? Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, it hurts

Shower your affection, let it rain on me And pull down the mountain, drag your cities to the sea Shower your affection, let it rain on me Don't leave me on this white cliff Let it slide down to the, slide down to the sea Slide down to the, slide down to the sea

Sky Full Of Song / Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Javier Peña

Frankie Morales / Grab me by my ankles, I've been flying for too long I couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song And I want you so badly but you could be anyone I couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song

Hold me down, I'm so tired now Aim your arrow at the sky Take me down, I'm too tired now Leave me where I lie

Din Djarin / And I can tell that I'm in trouble When that music starts to play In a city without seasons It keeps raining in L.A. I feel like I'm about to fall The room begins to sway And I can hear the sirens But I cannot walk away

Grab me by my ankles I've been flying for too long I couldn't hide from the Thunder in a sky full of song And I want you so badly But you could be anyone I couldn't hide from the thunder In a sky full of song

Javier Peña / How deeply are you sleeping Or are you still awake? A good friend told me You've been staying out so late Be careful, oh, my darling Oh, be careful what it takes From what I've seen so far The good ones always seem to break

Grace / This one really stumped me, maybe give it a listen and let me know what you think?

Patricia / Javier Peña

Javier Peña / You're a real man, and you do what you can You only take as much as you can grab with two hands With your big heart, you praise God above But how's it working out for you, honey? Do you feel loved?

I drink too much coffee and I think of you often In a city where reality has long been forgotten Are you afraid? 'Cause I'm terrified But you remind me that it's such a wonderful thing to love

100 Years / Ezra, Marcus Moreno, Din Djarin

Ezra / Funerals were held all over the city The youth bleeding in the square And women raged as old men fumbled and cried We're sorry, we thought you didn't care, oh And how does it feel now you've scratched the itch How does it feel? And pulled out all your stitches Hubris is a bitch

Marcus Moreno / I believe in you and in our hearts we know the truth And I believe in love and the darker it gets, the more I do Try and fill us with your hate and we will shine a light And the days will become endless and never, and never turn to night And never, and never turn to night

Then it's just too much, I cannot get you close enough A hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here And Lord, don't let it break this, let me hold it lightly Give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly

Din Djarin / I let him sleep, and as he does My held breath fills the room with love It hurts in ways I can't describe My heart bends and breaks so many, many times And is born again with each sunrise And is born again with each sunrise

We have no need to fight We raise our voices and let our hearts take flight Get higher than those planes can fly Where the stars do not take sides

The End Of Love / Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

We were a family pulled from a flood You tore the floorboards up And let the river rush in Not wash away, wash away

We were reaching in the dark That summer in New York And it was so far to fall But it didn't hurt at all You let it wash away, wash away

No Choir / Pero Tovar

And it's hard to write about being happy 'Cause, the older I get I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject And there will be no grand choirs to sing No chorus could come in About two people sitting doing nothing

But I must confess I did it all for myself I gathered you here to hide from some vast unnameable fear But the loneliness never left me I always took it with me But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company

And if tomorrow it's all over At least we had it for a moment Oh darling, things seem so unstable But for a moment we were able to be still

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

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15. The Rise of the True King

Word Count: 3478 Trigger Warnings: Institutionalization, abortion, potential stand your ground related trauma + References to warnings of previous chapter

“Everyone was terrified of her. You can ask anyone who went to the academy. She was a terrorist. She would lure you with her sweet-as-honey routine, and then she’d just flip and become this monster. Everyone who’s come out about her, I think, it’s much braver than me. Because even though I was close to her, I had a little bit of leeway for a while. As long as I did what she wanted me to do, I was safe. But when I no longer wanted to do what she wanted me to do… we became enemies.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to speak out, as well.”

“I just couldn’t live with myself if I let her get away with everything that she’s done. All of the violence, the bullying and oppression. She is literally a beast. A monster. Luckily, I was able to see her for what she was before it ruined my entire life…”

Grace cried, watching the interview in which Simon was saying these things about her.

Her mom walked in and asked, “What are you watching?” she saw Simon and ordered, “Turn it off.”

“Do you think that he really believes this or is he just an excellent liar?”

Her mother turned the TV off and took the remote from her, “Doesn’t matter whether he believes it or not. All that matters is that he’s saying it and everyone is hearing him. What matters is that you brought him into our life and now he’s soiling our good name all over television and the internet and in books and whatever else his voice can reach.”

“We were best friends…”

“Yeah, you told us that one before. Funny, he doesn’t seem to remember that. Maybe it never was. Gee, I wonder if anyone at all tried to warn you to stay away from this boy. If ONLY someone would have told you that he wasn’t right for you and that he didn’t love you…”

The past few months had been horrific. It began when Grace tried to get online and check to see if anything had been said about her video or her outburst at school. She panicked whenever she saw news about a video of her trending. She was temporarily relieved when she saw that it was her and Simon out on the terrace, then panicked again, because it had just occurred to her why he was moving so calmly… Because on video, it looked like he was gently speaking with her and trying to console her when she punched him in the face and started whaling on him.

Grace Monroe is Over, Grace is Cancelled, Void Grace Monroe, and The Void were all connected to every post about her. “She’s an abuser! Poor Simon. I just want to give him a hug and brush his hair.” “I knew something wasn’t right about her. The sweet act seemed fake and manipulative and the Apex underneath her was rabid and vicious.” “Yoooo… I met her and she was so nice. This is bugging me out. WHY GRACE?” “This is precisely what I mean when I say abuse goes both ways. Girls can be abusive to boys too. I hope Simon has a good support system.”

She would have laughed if she could find some emotion other than hurt… She didn’t even know that she could hurt more after the fight, but somehow, she did. But, this wasn’t right. She had gone silent for days, but it wasn’t right that they got to spin things this way. MAYBE, she WAS a little violent, sometimes. But, she had NEVER hurt Simon, and certainly didn’t abuse him! And… she had been doing so much better. She had been checking her temper and her attacks. She had been less of a bully. It wasn’t that she wanted a cookie, but it hurt that she tried so hard to get herself away from her bad child routine, only to have her partner in crime let her be crucified this way.

She threw on some clothes, knee pads, a mask and she snuck out of her fire escape. She just wanted to talk. Maybe the paparazzi caught this on tape and went running wild with it. Maybe… her Simon was in there somewhere. She took a car and left the gates, headed for Simon’s place.

Whenever she got there, she saw that the garage was open, but it had been cleaned out a lot. It didn’t look like a workroom anymore. She didn’t know if that meant that Mr. Laurent had finally gotten closure, or was moving to a different space. But, he was there. She didn’t know how much he knew. Usually, he didn’t acknowledge much that Simon did, but who knew WHAT Simon was doing or saying at this time. “Mr. Laurent?” she said as she approached. He turned suddenly then reached for a gun. ‘WHOA!” She put her hands up. “I’m sorry. I am gonna go…”

“You came into my sacred space, destroyed the memorial for my little girl, turned my son into a monster, and you just waltz up here without a care in the world?”

“I destroyed what? Hope’s memorial. I would never do something like…”

“Never say her name again. We have a restraining order on you. Now, I suggest you leave, before I have to stand my ground.”

“I didn’t do that,” she whispered as she got back into the car. “I would never do that…” She couldn’t believe that Simon would either. She was almost ready to pray to something or someone. That must’ve been what Simon had been talking about whenever they got into that fight a couple of weeks before. He let her take the fall for that, too? Was THAT story also circulating the Internet? Her phone rang and she answered it on the Bluetooth.

“My dad called the cops on you. You really should head back home.”

“Why did you do this to me? We couldn’t just… talk it out? I know that you’re hurting. I understand that…”

“You don’t understand anything. You’ve been spoiled from the moment you were conceived. You were given everything. You never had to work for any of it. You rose to the top, and it wasn’t enough for you. You needed everybody to like you. Didn’t care whether or not I did anymore. You didn’t even notice when I started to hate you.”

“I noticed… I just thought my brain was being mean to me. You know how our brains can do that, Simon? Maybe your brain was being really mean to you to make you think that I didn’t care, because I’ve always cared about you. I came over to talk because I love you.”

“Lies.” She heard a slight waiver in his voice. Maybe she imagined it. She sniffled. “Even if I had been wrong about you, I’ve made certain that you could never look at me the same way again. I’ve done everything necessary to stop you. Nobody could still love someone after everything that I’ve done.”

“That’s not true. I can love you through anything. I always have.” She heard a sniffle on his end, then he let out a chuckle. She envisioned him dotting his finger at the corner of his eye to catch his single man tear. “Simon… let’s just meet up and talk. I’m upset, but we can still change.”

“Why would I ever want to change when I’m always right?” He asked, hypothetically. She knew that it wasn’t something that he truly believed, or at least… she didn’t think he did. It was something that she used to say to him whenever he was worried about something. She was always just saying stuff to him to make him feel better, and maybe that was his point in throwing this back in her face.

“Simon, why are you always worried about stuff when you’re always right?” she’d asked, and now she couldn’t remember the context of that question, but maybe he had a point. Maybe she was a liar, even to him. But… she didn’t mean any harm. She meant to help him. Everybody had always been so bad to him. She was sensitive. She couldn’t stand to see the boy she loved be in pain. She unfortunately had just stood there, in denial while that boy died. “I’m sorry, Simon,” she whimpered.

“Don’t be. I’ve already handled the problem myself, Void.” He hung up on her.

When she pulled back into the gates that night, the police were there.

It went from her sneaking out to “stalk and harass” Simon, to them wanting to search her room for items that they believed would tie her to various crimes. Her parents were livid, fussing at the police and calling lawyers. The police were insisting that they would wait for a judge to give them a warrant if they had to.

“Young Lady, if you have a Hope Chest with criminal souvenirs in it, the best thing to do is to cooperate with us, and maybe the judge will go easy on you.”

“I have a Hope Chest with criminal souvenirs in it,” she said. At this point, fuck it. Her life was over. She might as well go to prison too, or wherever Simon was sending her. “Simon gave me things, and that’s where I kept them. Kids always gave me things, but I’ve kept Simon’s in my chest…”

“Stop talking to them, Grace! We’re on the phone with the lawyer,” her father said and to the officer said, “We TOLD you that we were contacting our lawyer and that you were not allowed to speak to her. She is a minor and you didn’t read her any rights. Nothing that you just coerced her to say matters.”

“Am I going to jail?” Grace asked the police officer. “I’m trying to cooperate…”

The woman officer looked sad for her. The man was simply annoyed by her parents making things harder.

At the end of the night, they were able to convince the Monroes to drive Grace to the precinct to make her statement, and they were given a search warrant and Grace gave them the hope chest in question. After everything, she couldn’t believe how painful it was to let go of this. But, it was understandable too. This was years of tokens of Simon’s friendship and love (and maybe even worship). Simon had taken back everything he’d ever given her from his heart. She would have thought that would have been her breaking point.

The lawyers would have to battle to prove that all of these things were given to her and that she wasn’t associated with the crimes in question, but Simon, being the little shit he was had what was tantamount to a ledger of crimes and the souvenirs that were taken from them. Some of them Grace was present for, some she wasn’t. Simon was giving the information up, so that made him look less guilty, like she had somehow maneuvered all of it. She would admit that she was responsible for a few. But, more often than not, Simon’s temper brought on a lot of these crimes. She simply had been so fond of him that she liked that about him. They were young. It was them against the world.

But, with this new narrative of her being a juvenile delinquent and puppet master, Simon had to look even more sympathetic. How, you ask? Releasing his “journals.” Simon had notebooks full of his obsession with Grace and the things that he would do for her. While her lawyers insisted that if anything, they should prove that SIMON was responsible for these things, there were going to be doubts. Grace had been the one to establish their presence at the Academy. People hadn’t touched him because they knew that she was powerful enough to shield him. She had bent fingers back. She had uppercut Shana. She had punched Simon repeatedly on her terrace, for simply talking to her.

Her parents insisted that she tell them what they could use against him, starting with why she had attacked him on the terrace. They were getting desperate to clean this matter up. She couldn’t do it, and she knew that Simon knew that she wouldn’t. She knew that Simon knew that there was no way that her mouth would ever admit to her parents that Simon made a sex tape of her and spread it around the school. If they were going to find that out, it couldn’t be from her.

And now, still going through settlements, trying to keep her record clean, and a very emotionally disturbing trip to the gynecologist, there she was, watching him on TV, speaking about her this way. Her mother, who couldn’t even be bothered to hold her hand as she cried about having to have an abortion at the edge of 17, standing there judging her and giving her “I told you so’s.” This boy was ruining every fabric of her. He knew her from the inside out and he was ripping everything to shreds and making everybody witness it…

"We loved each other, once. The things we did for each other, with each other…”

“It is an embarrassment to our reputation and to your father and I, personally. We thought we raised you better than this. We even accepted it when you brought that common rodent into our home, into our lives, and we treated him like he was worthy of respect because you asked personally. We should have known not to listen to you. You make bad choices. You’re not very smart. You’re difficult to love. It was such a wonder that you even had a friend, that we accepted him. Even though he was nothing more than vermin… and he proved that we’ve been right not to associate with the likes of common folk. You played with your pet rat, then left him outside of his cage. And now he’s covered our name in filth. Best friend… he clearly never thought you were worth anything. The moment he found a route to success without you, he took it. Left you criminalized, brokenhearted and pregnant. We taught you better than this.”

“You didn’t teach me a goddamn thing!”

Mrs. Monroe slapped Grace in the face at that declaration. She had never been so bold before to do this. She’d usually cut Grace down with words, maybe a little force of hand. But just to slap her in the face? Never before. Then again, Grace had been infuriating for months. Not cooperating with the people trying to save her from this Simon mess, making them look bad, making terrible decisions… PREGNANT? She came crying, in the midst of a massive media scandal and a dive from high society to add to her growing criminal accusations that she spent an entire weekend letting that scarecrow impregnate her? Her mother had had it. On top of all this, she dares to curse at her and raise her voice?

But, when she slapped her in the face, Mrs. Monroe immediately regretted it. Maybe there was some truth to Grace’s accusation. Because, how else could she have fucked up this royally with such a substandard child as Simon Laurent? These were things that she thought about all in a moment’s time. Because when she parted her lips to apologize, for once for losing her temper so badly and slapping her only daughter in the face, she didn’t get the chance to speak it out loud. Instead, she met the Grace that the kids were allegedly afraid of. She had to admit, that was terrifying.

Grace roared and attacked, at this point, angry at her mother, angry at Simon, angry at herself… Mostly herself. She had lost her only friend. She wasn’t perfect. She failed him, her parents, herself… and she didn’t even have a career anymore. She didn’t even have his tokens anymore. She didn’t have… a baby… that she would have been hard pressed NOT to love with all of her heart, even coming from him. But, she knew that with all of this, there was no way that she could add, “teenage mother” and that kid probably would have been taken away from her like everything else.

Next thing she knew, she was at the mental facility. She heard them promising to take care of her. She heard them ask her parents about scheduling visits. she heard her father sternly say, "We will not be back unless you contact us to tell us you’ve fixed her.” she cried. So, now they believed in getting her help? When she was so far gone that she couldn’t think straight? or… was this just goodbye? She caused them so much distress they decided that they’d rather shut her away than ever have to deal with her failures again? She began to pace, crying profusely. She had never been this alone before… and her only comfort now was a needle that forced her to sleep.

Simon received a barrage of tags and he opened the story to see multiple publications covering Grace being dragged from her home, kicking and screaming and being brought into a mental institution. His heart stopped. His first impulse was to cry. He felt the tears creeping up, but he cleared them away fast. It wasn’t his fault she turned him against her. This was what she got for misleading him. He smirked and reposted her screaming like a demon while they tried to get her into the vehicle, with the caption, “Stop sending me this shit.”

He was closing a book deal about all of this. There had been reports of seeing Grace be concealed and sneaking to a facility where it was speculated that teenage elites go to “get rid of certain problems.” A few Apex girls admitted that it was THE go to place for a rich girl to have a quiet abortion. That was the main thing that they went there for, though a few said that it was also to confirm pregnancies before sending them off (for the more religioso types) and to “hide an attack or abuse” for the straight up monsters raising teen girls. The point was that everyone seemed to agree that there was no way that Grace was going there for anything other than handling a pregnancy however the Monroes saw fit.

On the one hand, he couldn’t imagine ever having a family with anyone else, at one point. On the other, he was rising to his true form. 17 now, and famous without her. Every publisher wanted his book. Every personality wanted an interview. Every student wanted to stay in his good graces. Colleges were looking at his situation as a survivor and a scholar, helping him transition from the break up between himself and the Monroes, and he had taken the Apex over. Grace was voided. He had won. The true king had risen, with a new vision for his future. Over time, he knew that the old dreams would fade. Her face, her laugh, her eyes, the scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth when she held him close and cupped his face, the shivers it sent through him when she lied and said that she cared, that she loved him, that she was his…

He couldn’t get close to anyone else. It just wasn’t possible. Even if he thought he could trust someone. All they had to do to make him think about her was enter his personal space, and he couldn’t have that. He dreamed about her, still. About their good times. He even sometimes thought that when they gave themselves to each other that she was sincere, that this access to her body wasn’t just another weapon that she was using to make him her slave. Because, she almost had him that weekend. He was ready to give up everything he planned to do to take her out. He was ready to submit to her again and settle for whatever warped notion of love she expected him to take.

Then, he’d remembered his vision of the void that had taken her away from him. He remembered the impending loneliness of her being the one with the power to leave him. He pushed the feeling of her body and their fake union from his mind long enough to do what needed to be done. After that, everything started falling into place.

By the time he watched the videos and some with remixes of her own songs (his favorite being one about being “Taken Away” (by love) as she was dragged off… he realized that all of his fondness of them was basically dried up. Without that attachment holding him back, his mind couldn’t even fathom how far he could go.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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samuel-dean · 4 years

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Options?

INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Mercedes Jones. LOCATION: Evans’ Estate; Atlanta, Georgia. TIME FRAME: Thursday, April 9th, 2020. NOTES: Mercedes comes home to a monstrous Samuel.

Mercedes looked up from the article as she entered the mansion and sighed, folding the newspaper in half. Her frown deepened when her ears were assaulted by a cacophony of different voices blathering on at different points in the same story. All about one man. Samuel. “Damn it.” She breathed, handing the paper over to the butler. “He must have every television on in the house. Turn them all off.” She breathed, unbuttoning her jacket. “Where’s Samuel?” She asked, instinctively looking to the office. The butler stood stark still looking down at Mercedes. He cleared his throat, then with a voice still shaky, he inclined his head towards the living area. “He is just in there, ma’am. But ma’am, I don’t think it would be wise to turn off the televisions.” Mercedes was already moving away in the direction indicated. “Do it now!” She snapped without looking back. “It’s not helping anything.”

Samuel ran his hand down the length of his beard as he paced back and forth against the living room flooring. He stopped short listening intensely now, they were calling him all kinds of things he was not. He was a good guy and he had all intentions of making things right when he reached the office. Patty hadn’t gotten back with him yet, which only infuriated him more. He shook his head as he began to pace once more this time with his large arms folded over his chest. “Bullshit” he replied back to the CNN anchor. They were going on and on about marine life and what this happened to be doing to our oceans. That was fine, he got the need for animal life to be made important, but this spill was screwing with far greater things, not to mention the fire was still not contained. And the money that was being lost, he couldn’t keep up with the numbers now.

Mercedes stopped in the archway of the living room and watched as Samuel paced back and forth. This was a part of his business she didn’t understand. How did you fix a natural disaster and save your company's reputation and your own reputation for that matter? She flinched as he shouted at the news anchor. Unfortunately, the CNN correspondence’s ridicule of Samuel’s character didn’t end with the man’s outburst. Twisting her fingers, she moved into the space, “Samuel?” she said quietly. Looking around for the remote. “I heard what happened... What do we do?” She asked, taking the remote from the table she turned off the TV and looked up to him expectantly.

Samuel continued to pace back and forth with a shake of his head, and he stood standing in the middle of the floor. He heard Mercedes' voice, but he didn’t respond to her instead glared at the tv as his chest rose and hell rapidly. “Unbelievable” he said before she turned the tv off he turned around and looked at her, animalistic eyes glaring in her direction. He turned back around, continuing his pace around the room and he exhaled slowly before he roughly shoved some overly expensive decorative decor he’d hated to the ground “I don’t know” he said in a loud booming voice. “All the shit I’ve ever done for people has just been forgotten in a fucking instance over a mistake I didn’t make!” he yelled bitterly. “All the charities, all the orphanages” he listed. “A bastard who told Americans to grab women by their pussy” he said ragging “has the nerve to get on national fucking television and crucify ME” he said in a beastly appearance.

Mercedes swallowed a hard lump in her throat, and took an involuntary step away from Samuel as his murderous eyes took her in. She bit her lip, grimacing in abstract horror as $100,000 Tiffany vases were being slung about, to smash against the floor. Damn, damn, she thought biting her knuckle. She took in a deep breath, and held out her hands, "You're right." She breathed, gathering only enough courage to regain the step she'd lost. "He's using you to gain some brownie points. It's an election year." She reasoned, keeping her tone soft and low. "Baby, have you spoken with your publicist and the lawyers?" she was kicking her own ass mentally. She'd been so wrapped up in her own business affairs, she had even attempted to help him find a new assistant.

Samuel looked away from her as she spoke and he moved over to the other side of the room, looking out the window and he gripped the window seal tightly. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, “fuck that damn election” he said lowly. At her question he said nothing for a very long time before he said “I need to get to Texas and fast” he responded. “I have to get to the headquarters,” he admitted easily. Every word he said came out in a bite. He sighed heavily before he turned back to her, eyes flashing, fire behind them. “The board wants me to speak publicly, hash this shit out and beg the fucking public to reprieve me” he said as balled his fist walking around the room slowly. “That’s only fucking payback for what I did to my parents, I know those old bastards like the back of my fucking hand” he said. “Anyone else would’ve released a written statement” he told her. “Should’ve called my fucking father” he said gripping his forehead with his hand “fuck” he said he breathed to himself as he paced.

Mercedes did her best to read him. She needed to calm him down, at least a little anyway. But much like a hurricane, he needed to blow himself out. She rounded the couch, feet crunching on $1000 bits of glass, but still gave him space to process. His statement was comical, but there was no room to laugh and she knew it. Instead she shook her head, agreeing with the hulking man. "Texas?" she repeated, shaking her head. "Alright..." she answered, reaching into her pocket for her phone. "I should call the airfield and tell them to get the jet ready." She said making a mental list. "I'll start packing your things immediately." She looked up from her phone, frowning. It was beyond reason they’d want some kind of public statement, “They would…” She said slowly, unfamiliar with the interworking of his company. “They haven’t released any kind of statement yet?” That was unsettling. They were leaving him out on the limb to roast in the fire of public opinion that was never a good thing. “If you feel like you need his advice Samuel. Call him.”

Samuel’s phone buzzed and he looked at the coffee table, picking the phone up he read the message before tucking it away into his pocket. “The airline is covered”, he said quickly “my things?” he questioned with a raised brow. “You own the company they are expecting you too, Mrs. Fifty-Percent” he said as he rounded her again. “I can’t call my dad, since when did we associate with them?” he asked her, confused. He stopped in front of her for a moment before he pressed forward pacing again. “They are hanging me Mercedes, what part of that are you not understanding?” he asked her, still on edge. He moved before the tv, he needed to hear what else they were saying it was killing him not to. He finally knew exactly how he felt when his mother slandered her across the pages. The only thing is, he had no one to fight his battles for him. Lucky her, he thought as he looked over his shoulder, with a head shake he said, “I need a drink”.

"Good." Mercedes nodded, removing flight from her list and adjusting the notes she was typing out on her iPhone. Looked up, her hair flipping back wildly, "They expect me to...make a statement?" She sat down hard on the sofa and looked up at him blankly. She sighed dumbfounded and after a moment began rubbing her fingers over the growing headache that started in her temples. "You're right. I'm sorry.” The apology was soft in a mournful way. “You brought him up and I don't know. I thought you might want his counsel." She let his next statement hang in the air, then pushed up from the couch, and bit down on her lip to fight the urge to snap at the man. "Okay." She said, in a matter of fact tone. "So, our options are to come up with a fix, I expect your teams are already working on? And prepare a statement. Do we have a choice, can we just release a statement? Or must we go on live television? I heard what you said, but do we have any choice in the matter?”

“Of course, they don’t expect you to get up there and speak for the masses” Samuel said, is she nuts people didn’t like the idea of them being an item or her having the fifty percent, she did in the first place. “But they feel you being there shows that you have some care in all of this, after all the majority think you just ride on the coat tail of the Exxonmobil corporation name for money sake” he told her, he didn’t deny when they argued. She had done anything with her title since she got it. But she also didn’t ask for it. Hmph. He’d have to use that argument smugly when they brought it up again. “I do need counsel and here you are” he said looking at her again, this time he softened with his words. He sighed, drained now that all the adrenaline in his body dissipated and he dropped down beside her. “I’ve been ignoring phone calls all morning, I just want to hear what they are saying,” he said. “I do know they are investigating it,” he said to her. “I can’t afford this right now” he said desperately as he leaned back resting his head on the back of the couch.

"Mhm..." Mercedes said, fighting with all her might to keep her rising attitude at bay. When she raised the same argument about what people's perception of her were, he nearly took her head off at the mere thought of it. It seems he knew all too well what she'd been speaking about after all. She sighed, sitting again. "I'd have gone anyway. I don't want you up there alone, Samuel. I just misunderstood your meaning." She shook her head, “I don’t think I’m equipped to offer you anything but moral support. I know we have to answer the phone. I also know we need to get in front of the cameras, if that’s the only option. And I do mean immediately. They may be trying to screw you, but they are also screwing over the company. Every second delay is another stock gone.” Mercedes turned to Samuel as he leaned back, she placed her hand on his thigh and began rubbing her hand back and forth. “I know… I know... We don’t need their spin on the situation, we need the truth. I suppose we’ll get that in Texas.”

“You are a businesswoman” Samuel said to her factually, he sighed heavily as he shook his head at her. “You spend all that time with whatever you are doing with Titus and aren’t going to bounce anything off with me?” he asked her, gazing at her in disbelief. “Right...” he said as he dropped his head back down against the couch. “I cheated the system, I got you to sign those damn documents. I screwed my dad and my mother… people fight fire with fire” he said as he gazed at the ceiling. “Not to mention I had to double back and cut the payout of many people to be able to even ride that big ass lie I told into the sunset” he said again resting his hand on his forehead. He grabbed her hand as he ran up and down his thigh, he held it in his before he leaned up and looked at her. “I’m sorry for my temper” he told her “and for those” he pointed to the ground and broken pieces. “And for raising my voice, yelling at you. This is not your fault” he told her guilty as he leaned in and kissed her lips gently, calming down more. He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

Mercedes shook her head from side to side somberly. He was mad and it was starting to feel more and more like he wanted to start a fight with her. She looked down at her shoes, as her stomach began to churn with additional worries. “True Samuel… What? Do you think all this was intentional or opportunistic on their part? Even if your parents still had their stakes in the company, something like this could have happened. Yes, it’s worse because they are making you shoulder the weight of this alone. We should have known there would be consequences.” She sighed and went to tell the lie some many others would, it would be okay. But couldn’t form the words. His fingers took hers and he held them, stilling her motion. She turned towards him once again, hopefully successful in masking some of her own personal worry. She didn’t need to add anything to the stress he was currently under. Her fingers smoothed over his cheek as he kissed her. Head shaking, “I’m sorry this is happening Samuel. So sorry.” She uttered, before he kissed her again. Looking at him, she found true words, “Don’t worry about me. I told I don’t break… I’m here Samuel... Whatever you need.”

“I don’t know” Samuel replied back to Mercedes easily as she spoke sorting out her own thoughts in regard to the situation. She apologized to him though she had no reason to do so honestly, it wasn’t her fault, or anyone’s really it was an accident. At her words he smirked at her at her nodding his head and he said “I know” truthfully to her. “I should get some things packed, the airline is waiting” he told her as he moved to get up, dropping her hand as he did. He moved around the mess, two timid ladies moving into the space to clean up the mess he had made behind him knowingly.

#samcedes rp #thread.#thread: options?

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wfoster090-blog · 4 years

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Forgiveness for the Fallen

Jimmy Swaggart False Teaching. So long as someone genuinely repents and turns to Jesus for mercy they will be forgiven no matter what they have done. 1 John 1:9 tells us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” This opportunity for repentance and restoration, of course, includes ministers. When famous Evangelist Jimmy Swaggart was caught (the first time) with a prostitute in 1988 he made a dramatic emotionally charged televised confession, saying tearfully, “I have sinned…”

At the time, I preached a sermon to my church saying that we must forgive and pray for Jimmy Swaggart, that if he has turned to God for mercy and grace, he has received it and that we must also extend our hearts and prayers to him with the same grace that God has given us. Jimmy Swaggart Bible.

It is always God’s will to restore someone who has fallen into sin. Galatians 6:1 says, “Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted.”

In the Corinthian Church a man fell into sexual sin with his stepmother. He was temporarily excluded from the Church, but then the Apostle Paul wrote to the Church and said, “Sufficient for such a one is this punishment which was inflicted by the majority, so that on the contrary you should rather forgive and comfort him, otherwise such a one might be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. Wherefore I urge you to reaffirm your love for him.” (2 Co 2:6-8)

Hell is a fearful thing. We should never want anyone to go there. Scripture tells us that “God desires none to perish.” No matter who someone is, how they may have let us down, or in what manner they may have hurt us – no matter what they have done – our desire should be the same as God’s; that they repent so that they can be restored into God’s, and the Church’s, good graces. People who have been ensnared by sin need the Church and they need God’s people to love them, care for them and accept them without looking down upon them in any way. Jimmy Swaggart False Doctrine.

Even if a person repeatedly falls into the same sin, God’s grace is always available so long as they are repentant and humbly want help. Jesus said, “If your brother or sister sins against you, rebuke them; and if they repent, forgive them. Even if they sin against you seven times in a day and seven times come back to you saying ‘I repent,’ you must forgive them.”

Later Peter asked Jesus, “‘Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.’” If we are to forgive a person for sinning against us 490 times in one day, then we cannot expect that God will do less. There is mercy for those who struggle with sin so long as they are repentant and attempting to change. Scripture says, “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” (Romans 5:20)

A Case Study: The Special Situation of Jimmy Swaggart Ministries (JSM)

I am often accused of not forgiving Jimmy Swaggart. Here is a typical post on my website made by a fan of Swaggart. http://www.christiananswerman.com/

“Shame on the administrator of this trashy site for slandering Pastor Jimmy Swaggart! Rather than trying to crucify the Swaggarts, why don’t you just pray for them and acknowledge their good work? Sounds like you don’t believe Jesus can forgive sin.”

There is much to say in response to that. The short version is this: Forgiveness for the fallen requires repentance, and if that is done, forgiveness for the fallen itself does not automatically mean that God wants them to be free to do, be, or teach anything they wish without accountability to, and discerning judgment from, the Church.

Restoration of a fallen minister is different from restoring a regular member of a church. Ministers have a serious responsibility and their lives affect many others. Consequently, restoration of a minister to a position as a minister will take longer and be more involved.

In Jimmy Swaggart’s case, that restoration process was circumvented by Jimmy’s own actions. In order to explain exactly what happened it is necessary to explain what he did and why the Church responded as it did and why cult watch groups say what they do today in regard to JSM. But before we get into that we must discuss the main issue with Jimmy Swaggart – his strange heterodox teachings.

#Jimmy Swaggart False Doctrine #Jimmy Swaggart Bible #Jimmy Swaggart False Teaching

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greekowl87 · 5 years

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Fic: It’s Cold Outside

This is my fic for the X-Files Easter Fic Exchange (@xfilesfanficexchange). My prompt was for slippinmickeys over on AO3. This is cross-posted with AO3.

The prompt was: “Mulder gets stuck at Maggie Scully's for the weekend during a Scully family holiday (any holiday). UST becomes RST and drama ensues. Seasons 1-7. No PWP, need story.” So this is set during season three and is inspired by The Blizzard of 1996 (January 6 -10) was an actual event that took place. I myself was nine and remember being miserable, sick and losing power for 3 days during the course of it while living in Virginia but took it as inspiration for this fic.

A quick thank you for @peacenik0 and @baronessblixen talking me through some writer’s block with this fic. Mind you, it’s long. Also, there’s some smut in this: just a head’s up. I hope you all enjoy.

P.S. @today-in-fic

Friday, January 5, 1996

“Mulder, you don’t have to do this.” Scully gathered her coat and briefcase for the weekend as Mulder donned his own trench coat and car keys. “I’m just taking the bus home and then driving to my mother’s for the weekend in the morning.”

“It would make me feel better, Scully. I don’t know if you saw the forecast for the weekend but they are calling for a big Nor’easter. Anyways, what’s so special about your mom’s this weekend?”

“A belated celebration of Christmas,” she told him with a smile. “Ever since dad and with Missy just a few months ago, mom’s had a hankering to get the family together. A belated Christmas seemed like the answer. My brothers Bill and Charlie are coming with their wives. Bill’s ship just got into Norfolk two days ago and is already up in Baltimore with Tara. Charlie is coming down from Pennsylvania.”

Mulder felt his heart drop in his chest at the mention of the recent murder of Melissa Scully. His partner had told him multiple times that she did not blame him; the dangers came with their work. But deep down, Mulder still felt guilt himself. He was only more determined to make things right for her, even if it was as simple as driving to her mother’s for a makeup Christmas holiday in early January.

“Really, Scully, it’s no big deal. I can drive you first thing tomorrow morning to Baltimore.”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“You know the answer to that.”

His smile must have melted her resolve as Scully smiled. “Fine. Tomorrow morning at ten, okay?”

“Okay.” He grinned.

. . . . . . . . .

Saturday, January 6, 1996

Scully glanced at her wall clock as it read 10:08 as she heard a knock at the door. Her weekend bag sat next to the door along with her freshly dug out snow boots and winter jacket. She had been watching the local news and now The Weather Channel. Mulder’s warning the previous day about an upcoming nor’easter had sparked her interest however her attention was once again distracted by the knocking again.

“It’s open,” she called.

The brass doorknob opened and she saw her partner wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and black turtleneck. He smiled at her awkwardly. “Ready to go, Scully?”

“You know you can come in, Mulder.”

She turned off the television and cast the remote onto the wooden coffee table. She saw him sidestep the welcome mat and inch around her entryway before shutting the door. He held his gaze at the fixed point in the floor before forcing a smile. “I do. I see you got your snow boots.”

“Yep. Finally got a chance to see the forecast. Might as well be prepared.”

Scully was already pulling on her jacket and then her shoes. “You really didn’t have to do this, Mulder.”

“I want to, Scully.”

He picked up her bag, loaded her bag into his backseat, and began the journey up to Maryland. The drive was quiet between them with a little conversation with the exception of small talk about the Scully family plans. As Mulder pulled up to the familiar driveway, he threw the car into park and looked at Scully. “Here’s your stop,” he said.

Scully gave him a thankful smile and nodded towards the porch. “Why don’t you come in before you head back to Alexandria?”

“I couldn’t impose, Scully.”

The last time he had been to Mrs. Scully’s house was shortly after his partner’s abduction when he had to swallow his pride and failure and let her know that her baby daughter had disappeared into thin air. He only saw himself as an omen of ill news for the Scullys. The most recent stigma was the death of Melissa Scully and him keeping Scully away due to their crazy crusade. The prospect of visiting her again under such circumstances wasn’t very appealing to him.

“Come on, Mulder. At least take a bathroom break and get a drink of coffee?” Her teasing smile made him relax slightly.’ “Come on, Mulder. My family isn’t going to crucify you.”

“The wrong holiday,” he joked. It fell on deaf ears. “I couldn’t impose, Scully. Really.”

“You can at least get some coffee before hitting the road,” she encouraged. “My mom wouldn’t mind.”

“You aren’t going to take no for an answer are you?”

“Sound familiar? Why don’t you just put yourself out of your misery and come in.”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

They both exited the car and Mulder went to grab her weekend bag from the trunk of his car. Together, they went up to the steps to the Scully household. His partner grabbed the brass doorknob and swung the door open wide. “Mom! I’m here!”

“Is that little Dana?” A playful voice echoed from the kitchen. “Still believing in Santa Claus?”

“Charlie!”

Mulder stood awkwardly by the doorframe, unsure if he should close the door behind him and stay or if he should run away. He saw a much taller man, about his height with dark auburn hair and blue eyes like his partner wearing a Penn State sweatshirt and jeans. Scully ran to her brother, throwing her arms around her youngest brother as he spun her in a circle. “It’s been too long, Dana! Mom, Dana’s here!”

Mulder stood straighter as he saw the matronly Mrs. Scully come from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a yellow apron. “No traffic I hope?”

“No,” Scully answered.

“Good. The weather forecast is calling for snow tonight and I hated the thought of you driving in this weather.”

“Mulder drove me,” Scully said, turning to gesture to him.

Mulder would have preferred to have fallen into a hole in the ground on the way to China than face the Scully matriarch. “Fox,” she greeted coolly.

“Mrs. Scully.”

Charlie turned to Mulder and smiled warmly. “So your Dana’s FBI partner. What kind of name is Fox anyways?”

To Mulder’s surprise, the youngest Scully offered a welcoming handshake which he returned hesitantly. “My parents probably hated me. I prefer Mulder anyways.”

“FBI thing?”

“Something like that. I’m going to go, Scully. I’ll see you back at the office on Monday.”

Scully narrowed her eyes in annoyance and nudged her mother. “I was going to invite Mulder to some coffee before he goes back. He was nice enough to drive me.”

“Of course.” Like magic, Mrs. Scully’s face materialized into the welcoming host that used to make her the talk of all the housewives of the San Diego Naval Base. “Take off your jacket and shoes, Fox. Stay awhile. You take your coffee black right?”

“That’d be fine.”

Mulder was already taking off his shoes and jacket as Charlie said something about finding Bill and Tara from upstairs. Soon, Mulder found himself standing in the atrium alone with Scully. She gave him a smile small. “Thank you for staying for a bit.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“I appreciate it regardless. Come on, let’s get you that cup of coffee.”

He was powerless to say no to her and followed her like an obedient puppy. Mrs. Scully was smiling and getting coffee, trying to make small talk with the two FBI agents. Charlie soon came back with a man and a woman which Mulder could only assume was Big Brother Bill and his wife Tara. He felt himself shrink under the steely gaze as Scully greeted the rest of her family. Mulder took a deep breath and held out his hand. “Fox Mulder.”

“Mr. Mulder,” Bill said carefully.

He had the sneaking suspicion he was being appraised. The blond hair woman, Tara, rushed forward to shake his hand as well. “It is so nice to meet you, Mr. Mulder. Dana has told us so much about you.”

“You can call me Mulder.” Mulder raised his eyebrow playfully at Scully. “Is that so?”

Charlie was by the fridge grabbing a beer out. “Don’t worry, Mulder. If you stick around long enough, you’ll hear some embarrassing stories about little Dana.”

As the afternoon progressed, the snow became heavier and showed no signs of letting up. By seven that evening, Mulder still found himself in the Scully household recovering from a wonderful dinner over embarrassing stories in front of a Christmas tree and the Scully clan. How had time escaped him was beyond Mulder’s grasp; he should open an x-file on it. By ten in the evening, he decided it was time to call it a night.

“Mrs. Scully, as much as I would love to stay, I must get going. The drive back to Alexandria is bound to belong.”

“You can’t be serious, Mulder!” Charlie cried. “All that snow!”

“It’s not safe,” Bill added as his wife yawned. She leaned against his shoulder sleepily. “You ready to hit the hay, hon?”

“Yeah. Traveling must’ve taken it out of me yesterday.”

“Why don’t you get going to bed. I’ll be right up.”

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Mulder,” Tara said getting up. “Good night, everyone.”

A chorus of good nights and good evenings followed her out of the room. Scully looked at Mulder and bit her lip in thought. Mulder sensed something from her but did not say anything. “Why doesn’t he crash on the couch tonight, mom? Hopefully, the main roads will be plowed by tomorrow?”

Mrs. Scully nodded in agreement. “I’ll go get some blankets and pillows for you, Fox.”

Mulder had not even had a chance to say anything as Scully brothers said goodnight quickly and retreated back upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Mulder and Scully were left together alone in the living room. “What just happened?”

“Sleepover,” Scully chuckled.

“You weren’t planning this, were you?”

“No.” She lowered her voice and brought her knees to her chest. “Unless I suddenly gained control of the weather.”

“Knock it off, Scully.”

“I’m just teasing. But my brothers are right. It’s not safe to drive. I’m not up to saving your butt again.” They shared a knowing smile. “Besides, I was happy to have you here tonight.”

“How come?”

“It made things more...bearable tonight.” Without another word, she rose from the couch. “Good night, Mulder.”

“Night, Scully.”

Like ships passing in the sea, he watched Scully glide upstairs for the night as Mrs. Scully let her motherly instinct take over and make Mulder’s temporary bed for the night. He suddenly remembered the spare bag of clothes he kept in his car and rushed outside to grab it real quick before the snow grew any worse.

. . . . . . . .

Sunday, January 7, 1996

The meteorologists, both locally and nationally, metrologists were already calling it The Great Blizzard of 1996. When Mulder and the Scully family had retired for the night, Mother Nature had other plans. There was already almost a foot of snow before it transitioned to sleet, icing in the layers and locking them away. The storm came back with colder temperatures and even heavier bands of snow. Snow, ice, and more snow. And with that, Mulder found himself trapped in Baltimore for the Scully’s makeup Christmas. Unwanted guest indeed.

Mulder found himself waking up in the early morning hours. He could hear the winds battering the side of the house, snow, and ice pelting the windows, and the colorful glow of the Christmas tree dancing around the living room. He did not know what he was doing.

Sleep just didn’t happen for Mulder anymore. After many years of isolation and peculiarness had molded him into a couch dozing insomniac that slept with the tv on. Maybe, deep in his own mind and subconscious, he was still trying to bring back Samantha by somehow recreating that night from November 1973. It seemed awfully true now as the Scully clan tried to recreate the memory of their lost kin.

“Can’t sleep?”

Mulder jumped and spun around. Scully stood in the door frame as the shadows clung to her. Her robe was wrapped tightly around her, her arms weaved into a knot as if trying to protect her against something. She gazed longingly at the multicolored Christmas tree and then to stockings on the old fireplace. “And the stockings were hung on the chimney with care with hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be here,” Scully recited softly. She cleared her throat. “I see Mom is keeping Missy’s up.”

Mulder turned to the stockings counting them quickly. “I count seven.”

“Mom still keeps dad’s up.” She gave a sad smile. “Christmas was a favorite holiday growing up for us. The last time we were all together was the December before I went to the academy.”

Mulder scooted over on the couch as Scully sat next to him. “What a turn of events, huh, Scully?”

“Hmm?”

Mulder gestured to the window as white snow blinded the outside. “Weather. Mother nature. The inconvenience of timing.”

“It depends on the way you look at it, Mulder.”

“I’m probably ruining your little family get-together. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your mother’s scalding gaze.” Self-deprecating humor at its finest. Another mechanism. “I don’t know if I should be alarmed or not.”

“Mulder,” she sighed. She pinched her nose and gave a weak smile. “She’s not mad at you.”

“I’m sure they’re just waiting and plotting. I would know.”

Scully tilted her head to the side and gave him a warm smile. She moved closer to him and rubbed her against his left shoulder smoothing the cotton beneath her palm. “I did it so I could save you. You were out of your mind,” she whispered softly. Even beneath that fabric, she could still feel the puckered scar. “I saved you, didn’t I?”

He chuckled. “Does your mother know what you did?”

“No. And neither do my brothers.”

She smiled in the light and moved closer to Mulder. He stilled as she reached for a stray blanket to pull it over her lap and rest her head against his shoulder. “What are you thinking,” he whispered.

“Those lights and decorations. I think my mom used the last time when we were all together. The last Christmas. It was right before I left for the academy.” She smiled at the memory. “It’s funny because Missy and I were sitting on this very couch, watching those colored lights. I had just been recruited into the FBI and I remember feeling uncertain.”

“You’re never uncertain about anything.”

There was a pause between them and Scully continued to stare off into the distance. “She told me that…” She took a breath. “She told me don’t mistake a path for what it really represents: the people that we meet along the way. I didn’t know who I was going to meet, how my life was going to change, or whose life I would change along the way.”

Overwhelming guilt wrecked his heart (as if the guilt from Melissa Scully’s death, Scully’s abduction, and the disappearance from his own sister weren’t enough). The silence that ensued must have been enough for Scully to grasp his hand tightly, startling him out of dismal, gloomy thoughts. “Mulder, don’t think that.”

“It’s because of me,” he murmured, “that all this happened to you.”

“Didn’t you hear me? It is a two-way street. With the bad, there has also been good. These three years, I wouldn’t change. I wouldn’t want this journey with anyone else but you.”

Unable to find words he settled for the thing that had worked best for them: unspoken communication. He wrapped his arm around her in a hug. Scully settled her head back against his shoulder in silence. The moment seemed trapped in a bubble that was only meant for the two of them. “I am incredibly grateful you are here with me now, Mulder, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” She took a deep breath and kissed his temple softly. “Thank you.”

Like a shadow in the night, she quickly retreated leaving a very confused Mulder alone on the couch to wonder exactly what had transpired at that moment.

As the early morning crawled on, the Christmas lights turned off from the automatic timer leaving Mulder in the dark. He did not remember when he dozed off but awoke a few hours later to the smell of coffee being brewed and laughter in the room next door. “Charles, I do not recall that Christmas.”

The voice of Mrs. Scully laughed as there as a masculine snorting of giggles. “Oh shut up, Bill.”

That must be Charlie, she surmised.

Mulder stretched his aching body against the stiff couch, wincing at some unknown muscle cramp. The air was chilled in the living room and he spied a smoldering fireplace in need of fresh wood. Mulder got up to stoke the fire before searching for his Oxford sweatshirt to ward off the chill. His foggy mind, already going through the things that he needed to do the first thing to get back to Alexandria. He’d need to get gas, make sure he had a shovel or something in his car for the snow.

“Mulder.”

He looked up to see Scully standing in the doorway wearing her white fluffy robe and her hair clipped back into a loose bun. She held up a steaming cup of coffee enticingly. “Morning,” he croaked. He gave her a weak smile and tried to comb his bedhead. Scully shook her head and hid her amused smile behind her hand and a fake yawn. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept.” She shrugged and dropped off the coffee onto a side table. “Come join us for breakfast when you’re ready.”

“I think I’ll just get going this morning back to Alexandria.”

Scully smirked and nodded to a window. “I doubt that, Mulder. The snow turned over to sleet and then back to snow overnight. The news is saying at least nine inches.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Come on, let’s get breakfast.”

“Scully, I really can’t impose. I have already done enough damage here.”

“Mulder,” she said calmly. She took his hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay. My family isn’t planning to burn you at the stake or anything.” He was taken back by the openness of the invitation. She watched his emotions play across his face and arched her elegant eyebrow. “Is it what we do? Our work? My abduction? What, Mulder?”

“How do you openly invite me here? Expect that your brothers and mothers won’t flail me alive?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “My brothers know we solve unusual cases for the FBI, the cold cases that others won’t touch. They don’t know anything about government conspiracies or anything like that. As long as you don’t say about green little men.”

“They’re gray,” he whispered.

“Green. Gray. I still have yet to scientifically prove it.”

In the span of a few seconds, the platonic partners were decidedly close to one another. Electricity sparked between the air and the strange feeling shifted between them again. Mulder licked his lips as the stray thought of kissing Scully popped up in his mind. Scully was leaning towards him, as if in a trance, before Mrs. Scully’s voice called from the kitchen. “Dana! Fox! If you don’t get in here soon, all these pancakes will be gone.”

With the spell broken, both Mulder and Scully blinked. “Pancakes,” Mulder asked.

“Scully family Christmas tradition. I told you mom is going all out even though it is January. It’s been forever since we’ve had a proper Christmas.” She glanced at the two stockings meant for her passed father and murdered sister. “Even if some of us couldn’t be here.” Mulder opened his mouth to apologize but Scully cut him off. “But I’m very happy you are here with me, Mulder. I really mean it.”

He nodded unable to find anything else to say. Mulder followed her into the kitchen to find Mrs. Scully standing with Charlie by the electric griddle skillfully making pancakes like an assembly line. Bill and Tara sat at the kitchen table reading the copy of The Washington Post from the day before. On the corner of the counter, a small black and white tv had the local news on.

“Boy, oh, boy!” Cried the news anchor. “What was supposed to be a few snow flurries has turned into a full-blow blizzard. Chase, what can you tell us about this storm?”

The camera panned to another man wearing a suit in front of a local weather map colored in various shades of gray, black, and white. “You are right, Craig. I wouldn't dare go out this weather. Last night, we were only looking at a couple of inches of snow and now the forecast is calling for totals up to 20 inches plus. Also, overnight, the snow briefly changed to sleet and then back to snow. Don’t even think about going out in this weather! It’s best to stay hunkered down until this storm passes through tomorrow morning. The drive-in is going to be a mess well so plan accordingly.”

“That’s one thing I don’t miss is snow,” Bill grumbled flipping the paper.

“I forgot,” Charlie called. “Sunny San Diego.”

“And you choose to live in the great white north,” the brother shot back.

“Maine is not the great white north. You’re thinking of Minnesota.”

“I would argue differently. I grew up in Massachusetts and have some memories of nasty winters.”

Mulder stood in the middle of the kitchen, unsure where to go. Scully squeezed his hand discreetly and pulled him to a stool near the kitchen counter where she sat next to him.

“Where exactly did you grow up, Mr. Mulder?” Bill asked.

“The Vineyard,” he answered automatically. Charlie winked at him as he supplied Mulder and his sister coffee. He turned his attention to the small black and white television. “I can try and dig out later this morning, Mrs. Scully once the snow lets up and be out of your hair.”

“Nonsense, Fox. You are not driving back to Virginia in this weather. We’ve already gotten 13 inches and were forecasted to get 10 more. What’s one more mouth to feed.” She looked up and gave him a smile. Mulder did not know how to respond. “If you really want, you can help shovel my driveway.”

Scully smiled. “I tried to tell him that but I told you he is thick-headed.”

“He’s not the only one, Dana.”

“Hey, do you remember when we were in New Haven?” Charlie asked.

“As if you remember,” Bill snorted. “You were three.”

“How can anyone forget the Christmas tree being set on fire? It was clearly your fault. If I recall, I heard something about you trying to ‘light Christmas spirit.’”

“Even I remember it.” Scully grinned.

Mrs. Scully rolled her eyes. “Well, since we have a proper blizzard, why don’t we all just take it easy today. We can all take turns shoveling the driveway to make it more authentic.”

Mulder was about to say something else but Scully’s stern glare made him reconsider. “I think three men can manage that, mom,” Charlie chuckled. “So what does us leaving to do in the meantime?”

“Movies?” Tara suggested.

“Oh, AMC is doing a B-Rated Horror Film Marathon this weekend,” Charlie said excitedly. “That would be awesome.”

“Sounds right up your alley.” Scully elbowed Mulder.

He shifted stiffly and wondered just how much she had told her brothers about him and his far fetched theories. “You all can do that,” Bill shrugged. He remained focused on the paper. “There are some of dad’s things I would like to go through this afternoon.”

“Fun killer,” Charlie called as he skillfully flipped the next batch of pancakes. “Tara? What about you?”

“I would love to. That used to be a favorite thing to do with my sisters.”

“Honestly, Tara,” Bill scoffed. “We don’t have time for such childish things.”

“Shut up, Bill. We’re supposed to be celebrating Christmas, right? Staying in our PJs all day and watching tv was something we did in our family.”

“Ours was nothing but midnight masses,” Charlie added.

“Well, we can always improvise, “ Mrs. Scully answered, “but I doubt that would be any fun.”

“Then it’s settled.” Scully smiled but frowned when she saw Mulder focusing on some unknown spot in front of him. She frowned in frustration.

Breakfast continued without a hitch. Mulder withdrew into himself even further feeling alienated among the Scully clan. He felt trapped. He could take the chance and risk his car on the roads but Scully would save his ass and then kill him for his stupidity. A rouge hand took his own and squeezed it beneath the table top was all he needed to force the smile and endure this bizarre family holiday a bit longer.

The day seemed to be stuck in some sort of time zone because Mulder felt like he was experiencing deja vu. The last time he had experienced Christmas joy, any Christmas joy was the Christmas before Samantha’s abduction. The Mulder's had been a happy family then. But now, he somehow found himself swept along in marathons of horror films with Charlie, Bill’s polite decline to participate, and Tara, Scully, and her mother in the kitchen working on a makeshift dinner. The blizzard of 1996 continued on in spectacular fashion bringing more snow and ice.

At the end of the day, Mulder still found himself trapped with the Scullys with no means of escape.

That night, Mulder heard the grandfather clock in the hallway strike midnight, echoing throughout the silent house. He wished he was somewhere else.

In his makeshift bed on the living room couch, he still could not find a comfortable position. The blue light from the muted tv added to the eerie ambiance from the colored Christmas tree lights. It was nights like this he would call Scully just to hear her voice and his loneliness less palatable. But she was right upstairs and he did not think that he family (especially Big Brother Bill who had regarded him cautiously since his arrival) would take to it very kindly. Lost in his thoughts, he heard the silent scuffle of slippers against the wood floor.

“Still can’t sleep?”

He smiled, recognizing that voice from anywhere. “Could you?”

“I suppose not. Today wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be, was it?”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“You wore you panic face throughout most of breakfast.”

Scully emerged from the shadows. Elegant no matter what, Mulder thought. His partner wore the same robe from the morning before except her hair was down. “You being here I think is helping mom too. The distraction is nice since Missy is no longer here. The first Christmas after dad passed it was a nightmare.”

“I’m glad I’m not too much of a burden.”

“You are never a burden, Mulder.”

He smiled coyly at her. “You know, it’s funny, Scully. I know the special agent but I don’t know the story behind Dana Scully.”

She chewed on her lips playfully and held out her hand. “Want to see?” Just in the past 48 hours, this new side of Scully that was emerging that he wanted to know more of. Playing her game, he grasped her hand and she lead him down the hall and upstair case. “Watch the second step from the top. It always makes a noise.”

Following her expert direction, they navigated the maze in the dark. Scully led him to a door furthest down the hall. She opened the door to reveal a room frozen in time that belonged to some sort of punk rock teenager. Faded posters decorated the wall above the bed. A black bookcase held numerous copies of books ranging from physics to Latin to Nancy Drew. In the corner was a small desk with a bulletin board covered in various ribbons from science fairs and a University of Maryland flag above it. There was a picture on the bulletin board that looked vaguely familiar.

“Is that you?”

Mulder squinted as he picked up the photo as she shut the door behind them. “I was a bit of a punk.”

“And science wiz,” he added, nodding to the ribbons. “Little Dana Scully was a rebel.”

“Not always,” she said slowly, trying to hide back a laugh. “I did get suspended in my sophomore year for almost blowing up the chemistry lab trying to prove a senior wrong.”

“You took chemistry as a sophomore?”

“Science wiz,” she reminded him. She sat on the bed and patted the space next to her. “I know I’ve told you numerous times but I’m really glad you are here. It’s nice having someone to…” She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here, Mulder.”

He took the spot next to him. “I guess we should thank fate.”

She snorted in amusement. “I told you there is no such thing as fate.”

“This blizzard.”

“Convenient timing.”

He leaned closer into her personal space like he did when they were ready to verbally spare. She smiled and shook her head. Something must have shifted between them at that moment. Maybe it was the wintry atmosphere or some random static charge from the dry air, but he leaned forward, and almost teasingly, kissed her. A catalyst exploded between them. He expected her to pull away but she didn’t.

She deepened it.

Rational thought became lost and pure instinct took over. He cupped her face and held it for a moment longer. By the time they broke away to draw breath, words were pouring from his lips. “Scully, I’m sorry. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to…”

The flood of apologies was stopped by a single order.

“Stop.”

He closed his mouth obediently. Her eyes had narrowed and she looked feral.

“There is nothing you should be sorry for. You...you are a good man, a good friend, Mulder…” Scully swallowed, already losing her courage. “And nothing would change between us.”

“Maybe I want them to change.”

Scully arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

Mulder did not know the exact moment he fell in love with her but the past two years and her abduction only made it worse for him. During her absence, he did not know how close he was to pulling that trigger and blowing out his brains. He never had such thoughts during the years after Samantha’s appearance but without Scully, life seemed worthless. But this moment...oh how he wished for this moment since he had laid eyes on her again.

“Change?”

“I wanted this,” he confessed, “for a very long time.”

“Mulder.”

“I understand if I have overstepped my bounds.”

He was panicking. This was falling apart, everything was becoming a slow-motion horrific accident. Thoughts of a ruined partnership, their work, being alone. He began to pull away. He needed to run. To escape.

“Mulder. Mulder!”

Her voice called out to him like a lifeline. He looked down as Scully took his hand and pulled him back down beside her. “I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”

“You won’t.”

Her hand rubbed his thigh enticingly and Mulder closed his eyes with flushed cheeks. It had been so long since someone had touched him like that. He heard the locking of a door and he knew then, he couldn’t escape. Her hands rested on his shoulders and trailed down his arms. Her chin rested on his shoulder as she hugged him from behind. “Despite me being a bit of a rebel in high school, most boys never made it this far. You’re the first,” she teased.

“First what?” Mulder breathed.

Once again during the past 48 hours, he was surprised at this side of Scully. Or was this Dana? “Mulder, don’t make me scientifically prove the nature of the whammy.”

He burst out laughing as Scully met his lips sensually and he was gone. Gone was his resolve any fears. Her hands had a mind all their own. Mulder sighed in between kisses and let Scully take the lead. Like a dancer, she came around to the front and kneeled in front of him. Mulder smiled and ran his hands down Scully’s hips appreciatively. “Scully,” he murmured. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. However,” she licked her lips. “Charlie's is right next door. My mother, Bill, and Tara are right down the hall. We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Quiet,” he chuckled. He turned serious. “Scully, we can still avoid this if you want.”

“Mulder, let me tell you something,” she began, “there was always something between us, wasn’t there?”

“I'd like to think so.”

“I remember,” she continued, slipping off her robe, “after my abduction, visiting with my mom and Missy. You came in with that stupid video.” She chuckled at the memory. “I know you only stayed briefly but I was glad you came.”

“I called you. Sorry, but meeting your big sister kind of unnerved me.”

“Worse than Bill?” She bit back a grin.

“I don’t know. I think Charlie likes me, but Bill…”

“Firstborn are usually stubborn.” Mulder raised his eyebrow in mock horror. “You are my evidence. After you left, Missy stayed with me until the morning. We talked a lot. About life. You. Cosmic connections. Us.”

“She came to my apartment one night before I got your call that you were back. Someone told me I was going to be killed and at that point, I had nothing to live for. You were gone. Samantha…” Mulder scoffed. “You were real. You were always real and something I could save.”

“We’ll still find your sister.”

“At the loss of yours?”

She gave a weak smile and gently wrapped an arm around his neck. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here with me now, Mulder. You were there that night.”

“But you still couldn’t say goodbye.”

She sighed and drew him closer. “Is that what’s been bothering you the entire time being here? Deep down?” Mulder looked down and felt the atmosphere become suffocating. “Look at me. It’s not your fault, Mulder. What happened to Missy is not your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“What about your mother?”

“Don’t worry about her. Or Bill. Or Charlie.”

Mulder lowered his head. How did always do this to him? Make him weak in the knees and doubt everything he has ever known. She brought him closer. “She told me once that we were, and I quote, ‘Once in a lifetime.’”

“Who? Your sister?”

She nodded. “The first time I told her about you. I was complaining about how were stubborn you were and she told me that is was no different than me.”

Mulder gave a weak smile. His mind was melted at this point. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured this, Scully,” he whispered.

“Pictured what?”

“This.”

He pulled off her robe slowly and tossed it the ground. She shivered as the cold air hit her. Mulder saw the soft blue silk pajamas reflected in the soft light from the lamp. She blushed and whispered, “Lights on or off?”

“On,” he whispered reverently. “I want to see all of you.”

The first time he had a fantasy with her, Mulder had felt that he had committed the holiest of sins and paid with a bottle of tequila, a hangover, and a shiner on his eye that made Scully raise a suspicious eyebrow on the following Monday. But as much as he tried to fight it, he was powerless to do anything but give in. He was startled out of his thoughts as she ran her hand over him appreciatively and his body responded automatically. He let out a guttural moan; God, it had been too long since someone had touched him like that. “I’m just conducting a thorough investigation, Mulder,” she responded.

“I’m sure,” he swallowed, “but if you keep doing that, this won’t last long.”

“Well, we better get busy then.”

Mulder still could not believe this was happening. Blood rushed in his ears and he could hear the wind outside howled. Scully pulled Mulder’s shirt off first and gave a soft smile. He shivered himself as the cold air hit his skin. “Let’s get under the covers,” he whispered.

Her hands were distracting as they slipped beneath the small blanket of the double bed. He rolled to his side and slowly unbuttoned her top. Milky white skin slowly appeared and he touched her reverently slowly making his way up. When her first breast appeared, he knew she was a goddess fallen to earth. “Aphrodite, Venus,” he mumbled. He kissed her soundly and squeezed her breast slowly, trying to memorize everything. “A goddess come to life.”

Mulder grew bolder in his exploration moving his mouth to one breast and then the other, heaping worship upon her altar. She sighed breathily, raking her fingers through his hair, and leaned her head back. Mulder was already on fire but hearing her sigh “Mulder…” set him aflame.

Her arms wrapped around him and he felt her nails lightly scratch down his back. The cold and snow from the Blizzard of 1996 continued to rage outside. He could faintly hear little bits of snow and ice hitting the window glass but none of that mattered. For the first time in ages, he was alive and the icy loneliness that plagued his life had finally melted in her embrace. Time vanished and Mulder became a firm believer in missing time except, for this, he wanted his photographic memory to remember everything.

Mulder broke away from his adoration of Scully to look up and share a gaze with her. Her face was flushed as she smiled. “It’s been so long,” she whispered.

“Try to be quiet then,” he chuckled. He kissed her before disappearing the beneath the covers. His mind raced a thousand miles per hour and he didn’t know if he should take it slow or like a flash flood. He kissed her exposed abdomen, panting heavily. “What do you want?”

“I want to remember everything,” she breathed.

Mulder smiled and placed a series of kisses until he reached the waistband of her pants. She lifted her waist without command as he pulled them down. Mulder was intoxicated by both the scent of her and the thrill of the moment. Scully was already lifting her hips as he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and pulled downwards. If Mulder was a religious man, he would be proclaiming a miracle. A variety of dirty thoughts came to mind but one stuck out in particular. Overcome with lust and passion, he nuzzled her lower half, almost bashfully, nuzzled her. She jerked in response. He sought and took her hand, calming her in the process. She relaxed slightly and felt something move above him: a pillow.

“Scully?”

“Fine,” came the muffled reply. Mulder strained his ears trying to discern if she was uncomfortable or not. “I’m good, Mulder.”

The tone in her voice threw him off. Was she in pain? Or was it something else. He began to hesitate but he felt her fingers run through his hair reassuringly. It was enough for him to continue. He went back to his ministrations, testing out this and that, teasing her until he felt her writhing beneath him. Scully’s hips lifted and he heard her muffled cries. That explains the pillow, he thought, smiling.

Mulder eventually broke away and slid back up to greet Mulder with a kiss. He was smiling; she was smiling. “That was amazing,” she chuckled. “Do you think anyone heard us?”

“I hope not. A pillow, Scully? Really?”

“Shut up.” A devilish grin spread across her face. “Enough with the formalities, Mulder. Let’s get down to business.”

She reached into the drawer and pulled out a condemn. He raised an eyebrow with the unasked question. “It’s good. And I know we’re good…” She caressed his cheek. “Perks of also being your doctor.”

“Remind me to have you make house calls more often.”

With expertise he suspected that was from her medical education, Scully slipped on the condemn and rubbed him possessively. She smiled and whispered, “I want all of you.”

She tore off his shirt and sweats eagerly. Mulder lifted his hips and crushed her lips. Scully lifted her neck as he trailed a row of kisses down to shoulder where he bit into her shoulder blade, marking her. She lifted her hips meeting hip and let out a loud cry. She howled into her shoulder. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured into her ear.

“We have to be quiet,” she whispered. “The blizzard will only hide our...enjoyment for so long.”

“Well, I’m just getting started.

Something overcame both of them. Maybe it was desperateness, maybe it was the blizzard, maybe it was the moment. They both guided Mulder into her, working together as they did in everything.together. She sighed at the initial contact and moaned at the sudden fullness. “Oh, Mulder.”

He drew a sharp breath in. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, no.” She tried to relax. “It’s just been a while.”

“Me too.” He started moving slowly and she shifted beneath him. “Scully, if I’m hurting you…”

“You’re fine, Mulder. I just didn’t expect you to be so…”

“What?”

“There’s a lot of you to go around.” She chuckled at her own joke. “Everything feels wonderful.”

Mulder focused his effort into trying to please her, no one but her. He wanted to make her forget the shadow the death of a lost sister had caused her along with her mother’s shame and the scorching glare that her big brother had been plaguing them since their arrival.

She breathed sharply and whispered, “More.”

He redoubled his efforts. He entwined their hands like vines and pushed them above her head. He attacked her with new fever, swallowing her breathy moans and sighs with his rough kisses. Gone were the thoughts of being trapped in a snowstorm but rather whatever it was they created. Mulder tried to show Scully how much he cared for her, what she meant, and that he would do anything for her. Her ankles crossed behind his back and dug into his muscles, holding him her. Then he felt it. She was coming with a quick series of contractions that pulled him over with her. Mulder howled into her shoulder as he became spent and collapsed on top of her. She ran her hands up in down his bare back as he withdrew, tied off the condemn, and threw it a small trash can.

“So classy,” she sighed.

“Well, you’re not a cheap date, Scully.” He was already shivering as he dashed back to her bed and to the warmth. She coiled around him and smiled against his chest. “You are like a little heater.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, G-man.”

Mulder rolled to the side and used his long arm to turn off the lamp. She whispered something to him and although he probably misunderstood, he slid out of the cold air to open the blinds slightly before rushing back under the covers to the warmth they had created. They watched the snowfall in the streetlights together. He rolled onto his side and pulled Scully’s bare form against him. “This is something I could get used to,” he teased gently.

As they watched memorized, the blinding winds had lessened slightly and now just gentle snow fell. They could see the pristine streets covered in an eerie glow from the orange street lights. Scully pulled his arm tighter around her. “I’m glad you are here,” she murmured loudly enough so he could just hear her. “When mom asked, I tried to think of an excuse not to come. Missy’s shadow still hanging over this house. The bad whatever left from me not being there or the fact it should have been me. It should’ve been me, Mulder.”

“I’m sorry for Missy,” he whispered, “I really am. But I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you again. I can’t lose you again.”

“I know,” Scully whispered. “But with you being here, right now. Stuck in a snowstorm. Making love in my childhood home, despite the rebelliousness of it, I am grateful you are here. I am happy to have you here with me, Mulder. You make this bearable.”

He was quiet for a moment before he answered. His emotions spun like the snow outside before it settled one conclusion. He hugged her tightly, vowing to protect her and keep her happy no matter what. “No place where I would rather be,” he replied. He kissed the crook of her neck. “Sleep.”

With a final sigh of contentment, Scully let herself drift off finally as Mulder kept vigil and watched the falling snow.

. . . . . . . . .

Sunday, January 7, 1996

Because they were creating their own Christmas holiday in January and the snowstorm prevented Mrs. Scully from attending mass with her family, she decided the next thing: celebrate a January Christmas on a Sunday. Charlie was the first to wake up that morning at four a.m, somehow beating his mother’s habitual early rising. He had always been a light sleeper as a result of his father’s early morning revelries. He slipped downstairs to start the coffee first and noticed the rumpled blankets and absent guest on the couch. He raised an eyebrow before smirking. He and Dana had always been close growing up. Unlike their old siblings, only a year separated Dana and Charlie and the two often found themselves partners-in-crime covering for each other’s adolescent antics. He smirked as he sipped his morning coffee, already guessing what had transpired judging by Mulder’s empty couch. He supposed that he could still be a reliable accomplice to his sister.

At 4:30, with his coffee in hand, he twisted the doorknob gently and found it locked; a tell-tale sign Dana was up to something. He jiggled the handout a bit more before rasping lightly against the white wood door. “Dana,” he called out quietly. He eyed Bill’s room and his mothers. “Dae.”

There was movement on the other side. Some muffled exchange and cussing about the cold. The door opened the crack and he saw his sister’s narrowed blue eyes in the twilight light from the Christmas tree downstairs. “I thought I would give you a wake-up call before mom or Bill got up. And Mulder too.” He smelled the familiar scent of a good night spent with someone wafting off her. “And you may want to clean up?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m the first one up, promise. And I won’t tell a soul. Take my coffee.”

“Not a word,” she breathed.

“See you in a bit.”

She shut the door soundly and Charlie bit back his laughter at the entire situation. Downstairs in the kitchen with only the stove light to keep him company, Dana emerged look fresh with Mulder trailing behind her like a puppy dog. Both avoided eye contact with him. Charlie stood at the kitchen counter, fighting a grin. “Coffee’s fresh. And I won’t tell a soul, promise.”

Mulder’s eyes shot up in alarm and glanced at Scully as some unspoken conversation occurred between them. She was pouring herself a cup. “Charlie already knows,” she moaned.

“How?’ Mulder asked.

“I’m not going to castrate you,” he shrugged. “Dae and I were partners in crime. We used to cover for each other when we would do more questionable things.”

“Like that library fire?” She asked.

“Once and they never caught me.”

“Don’t forget your big sister is an FBI agent.”

“Right. What are you gonna do? Arrest me, copper?”

Mulder watched the exchanged and wondered faintly if it would have been that way with Samantha. Charlie nodded towards Mulder. “He’s the best you’ve done.”

“I appreciate you have taken an interest in my taste of men,” she muttered. “Mulder, do you want anything?”

“I’m good, Scully.”

Charlie tilted his head. “Why do you call her that?”

“What?”

Mulder shifted uncomfortably.

“Why do you call her Scully?”

“Why not? She’s Scully,” Mulder answered. He shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s cute.”

“Charlie, remember I also know how to get away with murder if I wanted to,” Scully hissed. She blew on her cup of coffee. “And no one would be the wiser.”

“What else is new. If Missy could see you now.”

“You are bad enough by yourself.”

Mulder looked away at the mention of the Melissa Scully. Charlie took a cup of the cupboard and poured some coffee. He offered it to Mulder like an olive branch. “I don’t judge, Mulder. You’re good for my sister, despite what others may think.” The brother watched his eyes dart toward his sister. “I know about her abduction and everything else. You make her happy. I see it. I can hear about it every time we talk. You’re good for Dana. And that’s good enough for me. Even if you are sleeping with her.” Their silence was insinuating. “Oh, nice one, Dana. First time in mom’s house. In your childhood bed?”

“A needle between the toes with a small enough dosage to stop your heart,” she told Charlie ominously.

Her brother watched Mulder become at ease a bit and smiled. He took the cup of coffee. “I wouldn’t cross her, Charlie. She shot me once.”

“Dana’s all fire and no bite,” he replied.

Mulder glanced at Scully and pulled at his shirt to reveal a puckered bullet wound on his left shoulder. “Wanna bet?”

“No way.” Charlie bent closer to examine the wound. “Dana actually shot you?”

“To be fair, I was out of my mind. But your sister is good enough to perform surgery with a PPK and take it out with a field surgery kit in her apartment. I wouldn’t tease her.”

Charlie chuckled. “I have a scar on my arm from one our antics that never healed. Once she mars you, she owns you. Welcome to the club.”

The love-struck gaze between the two did not go unnoticed.

By six a.m., the rest of the Scully clan had awoken. Charlie watched the morning unfurl with delight. Dana was more reserved than usual. Mulder wouldn’t leave his sister's side. Bill had started mastering their father’s glare and directed towards Mulder. His sister-in-law and mother seemed ignorant. But Charlie also knew his mother.

Unlike Bill and Dana, he had followed a path similar to Melissa where he discovered his own way. After high school, he waited tables, eventually becoming a hotshot bartender in Philadelphia before finding a full-time job in marketing where he could utilize all the sale skills he had mastered throughout the year. He also learned how to read people. Mrs. Scully wanted to keep Mulder at a distance but she would not let her feelings disappointment show for Dana’s sake. By eight, there was a buffet of bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns and biscuits and gravy. Everyone helped themselves to large portions (except Mulder and Dana who shared a plate). Dana made up an excuse about bad habits in the field. Charlie knew better.

By nine, there was the unofficial six o’clock Christmas roll call to be held fashionably late three hours later. Presents were exchanged and Bill’s glare seemed to grow. Halfway through the present exchange, Charlie excused himself to refill his coffee with Bill trailing his younger brother into the kitchen. “Are you helping me with the coffee now, Bill?”

Bill stalked behind Charlie and shut the door to the kitchen behind them. “Don’t you find it a little suspicious?”

The younger brother arched an eyebrow suspiciously as he poured a fresh coffee. “What are you talking about?’

“Dana and her partner.” Bill scrunched his face like a child at yucky food. “Mulder.”

“What about him?”

“Doesn’t this sit with as a bit odd or off?”

“What?”

“Them. What they’re doing.”

“You sound worse than dad. Dana is a grown woman. Let her do what she wants.”

“Haven’t you seen how he looks at her. There has to be more to it.”

“So what if there is, Bill? That is none of our business.”

“If dad could see Dana now, his little pride and joy, now. I knew the FBI was a bad idea. A boys club. I told you.”

“What are you trying to imply? That Dana should be at home and have a nice doctor for a husband?”

“Well, at least Melissa would be alive,” he spat.

“You don’t know that.”

Both brothers turned around to see their youngest sister’s eyes narrowed dangerously at her brothers. Charlie knew that scorching glare that she seemed to develop all her own. He looked away trying to find something that would occupy his time. “Charlie, stop hiding from me.”

“I didn’t say anything, Dana. You’re the one leaving Mulder alone with mom.”

“He’s a big boy and Tara seems to have taken quite a sign of affection to him.”

Her steely blue eyes zeroed in on Bill whose own look hardened in determination. “You know full well he doesn’t belong here, Dana. He’s already ruined this family enough. First with your abduction and then with Missy. Where does it end with him?”

“He had nothing to do with my abduction. And don't think I don’t know about who convinced mom to finally give up hope and get my headstone,” she hissed. “At least Mulder never gave up hope on me.”

“What was I supposed to do, Dana? Dad is gone and then, less than a year, you are too. How could you continue to put her through that? He was only making things worse.”

Scully slammed a coffee cup hard onto the counter with such force that she broke the handle off bashing her left hand. “Son of a bitch,” she hissed. She reached for a towel in order to stem the blood flow as Charlie looked down in alarm. “I hope you’re happy now.”

“Charlie? Bill? Dana? Is everything all right?” There mother’s voice came from the other room.

Bill watched his little sister continue to stare daggers at him. “Everything’s fine, mom,” Bill said. “Charlie and Dana were just cleaning up.”

Still aware of her smoldering gaze, he left without saying a word. Charlie looked at her impressed. “I think that’s the first time I have ever seen him shut up just be someone looking at him. FBI teach you that?”

“Sometimes we just learn that we are stronger than we give ourselves credit for,” she answered evasively. “Charlie, run to the first aid kit and grab it for me? I think it’s still under the sink.”

“Don’t you need stitches or something?”

“Probably but were we going to get that in this weather? Check the kitchen drawer. I think mom has some superglue in there.”

“You’re not serious, Dae.”

“If you can’t do it, go get Mulder then,” she snapped. She pulled back the towel to reveal a small gash going down her palm. “God forbid mom sees this.”

“I’m not the enemy.” He went to the kitchen drawer and began to search for the requested item. “Is it true that you actually shot, Mulder?”

“Yes.”

Scully was clearly distracted. She turned the sink on and ran warm water over the small gash. Charlie watched in amazement as his sister did not flinch as she cleaned the wound. She skillfully dressed the wound and thankfully did not need to glue the gash shut. He leaned against the counter as she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Dana?”

“I didn’t plan on this blizzard and I knew he wanted to leave. He’s been eyeing that exit since we came here. But I’m glad he’s here, Charlie. As fucked up it is sounds, he’s made this bearable for me.”

“Missy liked him, you know. She told me about him on the rare occasion we talked. I don’t what you all have going on and I don’t care what’s got Bill’s undies in a twist, he’s good for you, Dana.”

Scully motioned for her brother’s help and he tied off the bandage around her hand. “I’m glad to hear that,” she whispered. Scully flashed a smile. “I’m glad you get along with him.”

“He’s…” Charlie leaned against the counter, crossed his arm, and tried to find an answer. “He’s not what I expected from you, Dana.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Daniel? Marcus? What was that other guy’s name? Your FBI instructor…Jack?”

“Maybe I should have told Missy instead of you.”

“Oh, she told me everything as it was when I could get a hold of her.”

Scully grew quiet. “You miss her.”

“We all do,” she answered.

“Dana, Charlie, are you going to stay in the kitchen all morning?”

Their mother’s voice pulled them from the tension that surrounded them. Charlie motioned with his arm for Scully to reenter the living room. Big Brother Bill was discussing something with Tara. Mulder was talking to Maggie that caused her to laugh and try and hide it behind her hand. Bill glared at her partner and then directed his wrath towards Charlie.

“You certainly took your time,” the oldest brother stated. He narrowed his eyes as Mulder and then Scully. “What happened to your hand, Dana?”

“I must’ve cut it,” she said dismissively. Charlie sat next to his mother and Scully next to Mulder. “I’m okay, really.”

Mulder was staring at her the same way he did when he was on the edge of forming a theory. He gingerly lifted her bandaged hand for an inspection as her and Charlie’s gaze met. “Are you sure?” Mulder asked. Charlie could hear the pain in his voice. “Scully?”

“Fine, Mulder. I promise.”

“You need to be more careful, Dana,” their mother admonished. “Now, let’s continue where we left off.”

Charlie watched Dana smile and lean against Mulder’s shoulder. Bill cast a withering glare before picking up a wrapped present for Tara. If their mother suspected of something, she wisely kept silent and the peace.

At January 7th continued, so did the snow. Mrs. Scully continued to play hostess entertaining her children. They all tried to pass the time by watching endless movies on the television. There was a feeling of relative peace in the household. After dinner, Bill and Tara retired to bed early as did Charlie and Mrs. Scully. Something about the notion of endless snow made the household sleepy and go to bed early. Mulder and Scully were left downstairs on his makeshift living room bed watching the weather channel on television

Now that they were alone, Mulder was afraid of doing anything else that resembled what they had the night before in her bedroom. Now that they were alone, downstairs, he wondered what he was again doing here. Stuck in Baltimore. In the middle of a snowstorm. In her mother’s house. “So today was nice,” he started.

“Bill was such an ass,” she answered in a quiet voice. She lifted her bandaged hand to inspect it. “But Charlie seems to like you.”

“Does he know?” He took her bandaged hand and held in, resting it on his thigh. She arched an eyebrow as he suddenly pulled back. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Mulder.” She played with his long fingers. “Last night wasn’t a mistake. I wanted it just as much as you.”

“But do you view it as a mistake. We can’t go back,” he said cautiously. “What happens when the snow is done and I go back to Alexandria, you go back to Georgetown, and we walk into the Hoover the next morning? What about the work?”

“The work,” she muttered. She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “Mulder, there’s more to it than the work. It’s our journey now, together.” He was quiet. “Or was I wrong in assuming so?”

He shook his head. “It became about you,” he whispered. “It’s all about you. When we were on the bridge and you were being held hostage by that alien bounty hunter and I had to choose you or my sister...the only thing I saw was you. The only thing I could think of was you. I mean, here was my sister but you were the only constant thing I had in a very long time.” He gave Scully a wistful smile. “You were one heck of a little spy.”

“Still trying to debunk your work,” she teased.

“What are we doing, Scully?” he asked. His eyes stared down the hallways that led upstairs to her sleeping family. “Last night…”

“What about last night?”

“Was it a mistake,” Mulder asked. He let his insecurity show. “What we did? I’m half surprised that you haven’t thrown me out into the blizzard.”

“Why would I do that?” She played with his hair. “What?”

“This is something else I can get past. This Scully…” He played with her fingers and the gauze bandage. “You are so…”

“What?”

“Relaxed,” he replied, unable to say anything else.

“Mulder, I told you the truth. I am glad you are here. You make all this bearable. The past few months since Missy’s death, I sensed some sort of...tension between my mother and me. I feel like a part of her wishes it should have been me instead of her. I told you that she and Missy were close like me and dad right?” She shook her head. “I am glad you are here with me, Mulder. I don’t know where we are going down this journey or what the next step will be,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want this,” she motioned back and forth between “to stop.”

Mulder relaxed slightly and gave her a wistful smile. “You are full of surprises, Scully.”

“You said it yourself,” she replied with a smirk, “I’m an x-file.”

Only Scully could turn something he said into something so wonderful. “I want to believe…” he teased.

She leaned closer and kissed him with a sigh. Mulder lounged back into the couch taking her with him. Unlike the night before, they were not rushed this time. He felt like a teenager and was about to get in trouble. He shifted Scully so they both were on their side facing each other. “We can’t be too loud.”

“We could go back upstairs,” he breathed.

His hands were remapping her body, cataloging each sigh and twist of her body. When he found that magic little space between her legs, she gasped. Sensing there was more coming, he increased his ministrations. There was suddenly a different sound coming from upstairs: the creaking of old stairs.

“Wait, wait. Scully!” He hissed.

She bit into his shoulder as another wave of pleasure overtook her. The footsteps were growing closer and despite Mulder’s handy work briefly pausing, the sensations Scully was causing was making him extremely uncomfortable suddenly. “Scully,” he whispered. “Someone’s coming.”

“I’m trying,” came the rushed pant in her ear, “but you’re making this very hard by being so good.”

Mulder awkwardly pulled a blanket over her and closed his eyes, trying to pretend he was asleep. Scully tried to smother a giggle that was threatening to erupt. Her hands played with him teasingly and he clinched his eyes in response. They both heard the footsteps drawing closer and Bill’s familiar voice mutter, “God damn them,” before stalking away.

Scully’s head emerged from underneath the blanket and looked at Mulder with hooded eyes. “What else do you do, Mulder?”

. . . . . . . . . .

January 8, 1996

The snow had finally stopped the next morning and it looked like an alien land as the snow reflected like crystals in the rising sun. Mulder stood by the front door, admiring the snow the stopped just below his knee through the glass storm door. He could walk through that, couldn’t he? The idea of facing Bill with the possible knowledge that he slept with his baby sister made him sick inside. Charlie was enough and did not seem keen on maiming him but Bill…

Mulder shivered.

Would he have been the same if Sam was alive? Sam...Melissa Scully. The crushing guilt came back suddenly as he was suddenly brought out of his reverie when Scully came up beside him with a cup of coffee. “He doesn’t know,” she murmured. “And even if he did, he wouldn’t say anything.” Scully eyed the snowfall. “And you wouldn’t make it down the block.”

“What makes you think I would be going alone?”

Her laughter was soft and she pulled at his hand, bringing him back into the kitchen. Mrs. Scully was making another breakfast fit for an army. Charlie was reading yesterday’s paper. Tara was watching the news while she helped her mother-in-law with the food preparation. Bill was conspicuously absent. “At least the weather has cleared up, Fox. They usually plow the roads within a day so you and Dana can get back to work. I must admit, I enjoyed your company as an added guest.”

“Thank you for not letting me freeze to death.”

Maggie chuckled. “I’m not cold-hearted, Fox.”

“Besides, the entire Scully family is not out to kill you,” Charlie added from behind the news section. Dana sat next to her brother and tossed a balled napkin at him. “I’m just stating a fact, Dana.”

Tara tore her eyes away from the television. “They are talking about shutting down the federal government for a few days because of the weather. Even if you could go back to work, you wouldn’t need to.”

“We’re classified as essential personnel,” Scully replied, “but it wouldn’t make a damn difference because of the government shutdown. We aren’t getting paid right now .”

“Think Newt Gingrich orchestrated this blizzard, Scully?”

“It’d be a convenient excuse anyways,” she laughed.

“You wouldn’t have this problem if you were still a doctor.”

All eyes spun to Bill who looked less than pleased that morning. “Bill, I told you to stay in bed. Throwing up all night.”

“Throwing up?” Maggie Scully raised an eyebrow, going into mother mode. “Are you okay, Bill?”

“Fine,” he groaned. “I saw something very unpleasant.”

He directed his scorching gaze towards Mulder as Tara and Mrs. Scully abandoned breakfast to baby Big Brother Bill back up to bed. Scully remained silent as Charlie folder the paper causally. “Well, Dana,” he murmured, “at least you still have one Scully on your side and that knows.”

“Shut up, Charlie.”

“Don’t worry, Mulder. Bill hates everyone that Dana saw. You’re nothing special.”

Underneath the table, Mulder felt Scully squeeze his hand and give him a soft smile. Charlie set the paper aside and looked at his sister. “You were rather loud last night, Dana.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as Mulder wisely decided to take a sip of coffee and keep his mouth shut.

“For what it’s worth, Mulder. I’m glad you are here with Dana. Certainly spices things up in more ways than one,” he laughed.

Scully blushed and squeezed her partner’s hand as Mulder chuckled, unable to come up with a reply.

. . . . . . . . .

January 10, 1996

By Tuesday, the city and state authorities had worked through the past 48 hours to clear the roads enough for Charlie, Mulder, and Scully decide it was time to depart Maggie Scully’s house and get back to their own lives. Mrs. Scully said goodbye with Tara in front of the house. Mulder caught Bill’s scorching glare from upstairs. Goodbyes were said by Mulder, Scully, Charlie as they departed to go their separate way. As the FBI partners got into the recently unearthed car to head by to Georgetown.

“Not how you thought it would turn out, huh?”

“Not bad at all, Scully.”

“Bill certain hates you.”

“Well, your mother doesn’t. Yet.”

“Give it time,” he answered.

She laughed as they began the treacherous drive back to spend an extra day off together before the snows safely melted.

#xfiles #txf fic #xfeaster2019 #msr #msrfic #mulder and scully #mulder #scully #maggie scully #melissa scully (mention)#big brother bill scully #charlie scully #smut #it's long btw so apologies in advance #paper clip post ep

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apiratecalledav · 5 years

Note

sooo how do you feel about the whole mad queen thing?

Well, like much in the last half of this series, the set up has been rushed and clumsy and occasionally ridiculous.

But given all the crap they have to deal with— time constraints plus two dozen other characters; quickly trying to connect dots that GRRM has been struggling to join for the better part of two decades; the fact that we live in an age where a staggering percentage of people have developed the inability to watch 30+ minutes of television without looking at their stupid phones and can barely follow the plot of of your average sitcom— I pity those poor bastards enough to cut them some slack on that front.

That aside, I’m happier with it than I thought I’d be. Because I don’t think she’s mad at all, at least not yet. She’s just broken and finally fed up with trying to control her ruthless side.

For a long time, I figured the show was going to wimp out and go about “dark D-ny” in the “safest” way possible: she’d spin out of control for an episode and a half at most then snap out of it in time to heroically sacrifice herself.

Hell, I almost expected HBO to pull “a Dexter” and forbid them from even killing her and she’d give up the throne and live out the rest of her days in a kind of self imposed exile, where her dragons could hunt freely, and JorMont (platonically) at her side to plant vegetables and cut firewood.

Somewhere between Tarly toast and “[Dragons] filled people with wonder and awe, and we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small. And we grew small as well. We weren’t extraordinary without them. We were just like everyone else…” (did you seriously forget WHY they had to be locked up, ya mumpsimus??) I thought they were going to have her simply go totally batshit. While certainly a ballsier endgame for their Feminist Icon™ than the tragic hero route, it would have still been disappointingly flat and boring.

Having her be more outraged and wounded than a blatantly raving loon is a pleasant surprise, and more nuanced than I was anticipating. Admittedly, that’s not saying much but still. EC’s acting has been very good, too.

D-ny’s been doing pretty sketchy things for years, but the audience has generally been able to justify it: “Those people were slavers/baby killers/rapists and they deserved it!” Then when we realize how much she’s messed up– like how some of those guys she crucified weren’t so bad after all and maybe there should have been a real trial or how Meereen is quickly getting flushed down the toilet– it’s still easy to explain it away with, “Her heart is in the right place; she’s just too rash” or “she’s just young and inexperienced/angry and afraid/merely venting.”

And then when she turns a nice, likable twenty-year-old and his father into s’mores, it starts getting more uncomfortable. “Um… she gave them a choice? I guess? Whatever! Plenty of other monarchs would do that!” But this is the first time where she is not the main focus in this type of scene. Her opponents aren’t just some one time guest stars; these are people we’ve seen many times and have been deliberately humanized. And she did it despite being advised not to. There’s no victorious music, no one to liberate or rescue from immediate danger. It’s harder to celebrate her actions and it requires getting more defensive.

It just generally leaves people saying, “She’s still better than Cersei!”

Yeah, we may know her side and potentially be biased towards her, but the characters don’t have that. As our favorite ex-smuggler once said, “When they see you, they don’t see a liberator, they see a stranger come to set their city on fire.” A stranger who appears to be a truly terrifying, well-armed conqueror with three destructive monsters that just killed a sweet boy and his dad in one of the cruelest ways possible. Even if you couldn’t manage to see the situation from the soldiers’ point of view, Tyrion’s expression alone was a huge red flag for anyone willing to see it.

For years, there have been flashing neon warning signs for anyone willing to see them. My parents and sister never read the books and they all have said they’ve been increasingly put off by her every season, only for her to “redeem herself” in heartwarming scenes with her friends or by swooping in to save the day.

Not only that, but we have even seen “reluctant king who hangs out with the Onion Knight + a beautiful woman who burns people alive” before and it was a fucking shitshow. A shitshow that bent over backwards to highlight that being burned alive is one of the most horrific ways to die.

The “problem” is that we know and understand D-ny very well, and possibly even love her, so it’s all too easy to make excuses for her.

To finally challenge the audience to reexamine who and what we’ve been cheering for all these years in a situation where we can not only still understand why she’d act like that, but also potentially want to rage with her because a lot of us loved Missandei, too, is pretty complex by the show’s current standards. No, she is not sadistic, but she’s long lost sight of the noble intentions that she claims to have.

If it was not glaringly obvious that something was wrong by the time she monologue’d about how “We weren’t extraordinary without [dragons],” then you either weren’t paying attention, ignored it, or tried to rationalize it because you care about her and know that she’s not Joffrey or Ramsay. Nevertheless, the fact that she somehow managed to forget or downplay that a man once brought her the charred bones of his poor baby girl is incredibly revealing— and disturbing.

Most of the characters do heinous things in this show, so that’s not what separates our likable characters from hated ones. It’s their intentions: Are they trying to survive? Protect other people? Do they genuinely believe they’re doing the right thing? Or are they doing it just because “it feels good”? D-ny flipping the fuck out on King’s Landing is purely because it would feel good.

I also have to admit I have this… almost schadenfreude… watching some of her stans try to explain all of this away. I’ve seen many of them rage at Jaime for years: “How can he possibly still make excuses for what his sister is?!” Jaime, who has known Cersei all of his life and has spent decades being mentally and physically fucked by her, is undoubtedly going to have issues. No matter how disappointing, frustrating, or obnoxiously obvious that the main motivation behind it is “make sure we give Lena something Good To Do,” there is a legitimate precedent for his blinders. We viewers, meanwhile, have spent roughly 12 hours with Queen D through about 7/8 years of her life and that was enough for many of us.

Absolutely fascinating what love and understanding can do to our perception, isn’t it?

#anti daenerys #dark dany #anti jonerys #av answers #game of thrones

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elegantfirepoetry · 5 years

Text

I feel so very stupid now...

I'm back.

Pretty sure no one cares but whatever. I'm going to write my post with my thoughts regardless as I need to get things off my chest.

First: this is going to be a GoT post. You have been warned.

Second: I want you to know that after GOT season 8 finale I've spent two days being catatonic and couldn't stop crying at every turn. I was angry and disappointed that such an amazing show ended up in such shitty way, destroying every characters arch's plot for the sake of sUbVeRtInG eXpEcTaTiOnS! I had to delete my Tumblr app from the phone, untag me from any GoT related arguments and ban the hashtag from all my social media. I needed time to heal. But I haven't heal and, in hindsight, I am even mad at myself for having such extreme reaction for a TV show, but I couldn't help myself than feeling betrayed.

Third: passed the catatonic days and general disappointment for such a great show ended in such a shitty way, I have directed my rage towards all my GoT stuff. I have destroyed everything I possessed of that show but a Targaryen t-shirt. Because I still stand by my Queen, Daenerys motherfucking Taragaryen and Emilia motherfucking Clarke for her amazing acting work with such fucked up script.

Forth: I have never hated some living people like the writers and producers of this show. I wish I could make D&D (and even GRRM of this is going to be the END of the books) bath in Wildfire after having a Walk of Shame. I am hating them so much because they had such great storylines and they have twisted them and destroyed them. They didn't even TRYED to make a good work, they simply took the most famous and iconic lines from the old seasons and just glue them together without a sense. Because even trying to watch it again, I can't find a fucking sense of this season.

Fifth: I won't go on analysing all the reason why the show was bad because I think I explained it pretty much in various posts I did during the airing time and, personally, right now I don't have the energy to do it. But as the title says, I feel so very stupid for having believe in this show and in its people.

Before anyone crucify me I want to point out that the ACTORS, RAMIN, THE PEOPLE WORKING IN THE BACKGROUND FOR SPECIAL EFFECTS OR COSTUMES OR WEAPONS AND EVEN THE DIRECTORS WERE AMAZING. BUT THEY HAD TO WORK WITH A SCRIPT THAT WAS A PURE SHITTING PIECE OF WORK.

I was certainly that they would have given as a proper bittersweet ending but what we got was a fucking tragedy with nothing sweet at all. And I have been trying SO HARD to get an idea of what could have happened. I have read my old Game of Thrones posts and the fact that I had put my faith in such people make me feel so, so, STUPID. I always expect the worst to wish myself the best so I started to watch the show seriously expecting the worst of the worst. I couldn't believe that the leaks that have come out almost a year ago and that we scoffed at because they were UNBELIEVABLE bad, could turn out to be real.

THEY HAVE DESTROYED EVERYTHING AND THEY DON'T EVEN FEEL SORRY FOR IT. THEY SERIOUSLY BELIEVE THEY DID A GREAT JOB. IT'S FRUSTRATING WHEN YOU SEE SUCH A POTENTIAL STORY SO WASTED AWAY.

I sincerely hope D&D have read all the bad reviews and understand they did a fucking mess.

Sixth: I want to give you my opinion over JONERYS and why it got the end that it had. If someone will feel offended by what I am going to say, I apologise but I won't take back what I will say. Fight me.

HBO is an American cable and satellite television.

America is full of idiotic prudes.

They couldn't give a happy ending to Jonerys on television because the two characters involved in such couple were BLOODY RELATED and I bet the HBO chiefs were worried that such evolution could send a bad and improper message to people.

God forbid that Americans could actually understand the difference between fictional characters and real life situations.

Before someone insult me and say that I encourage incestuous relationship, I will say that I can understand the difference between a fictional world and reality. In a fictional world you can do WHATEVER YOU WANT. In real world I would never even dream to kiss my cousin for a prank.

GRRM can write what the hell he wants in his books because if someone decides to read the books he/she knows what is going to happen and has to accept what ONE SINGLE WRITER say.

But on a TV show (I bet people were disturbed avout Jamie and Cersei incestuous relationship too), writers and producers couldn't show that same kind of relationship on a better light with our two hero's, Jon Snow and Daenerys Taragaryen.

So they had to make Daenerys a villain, turning her into the MAD MONARCH she always feared to be after that they have taken EVERYTHING from her. They made her a villain justifying it with the fact that she comes from a family that practices interbreeding and BECAUSE OF THAT half of the Taragaryens were mad (this said continuously during any part of the show. Remember Cersei in Ep. 7 Season 2, "A Man without Honor"?) and make Jon - his nephew and lover - kill her because she "had gone mad" and burned them all. This action caused his exile and, with all probability, the extinction of House Taragaryen for good, eradicating the world of Westeros from such horrific family.

Oh, surely. But at the same time let's give one last moment to Cersei and Jamie dying in each others arms under the Red Keep and let's feel sympathetic for them.

HBO is full of misoginist and sexist pieces of shit. That's the ugly truth.

Seveth: Not sure if I will keep making GoT related post. I feel sick of it and I just want to forget it. I wish someone can erase from my memory the entire show and go on with the books only. I will try to mend my poor broken soul with fanfictions.

Thank you to all the amazing authors out there that are trying to save Jonerys and all the other couple that hadn't had a chance on the show. Thank you so much for your talent.

Eight: One last personal satisfaction (I might be the troll of the situation here).

I have never hated the surviving Starks siblings so much like in this season.

Especially Sansa: I have always kind of admired her strength but season 8 made me hate the gut of her. And if there are some Sansa/Starks Stan out there that want to fight for that bitch, BRING IT ON. I HAVE SOME RAGE AND FRUSTRATION TO POUR OUT.

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drakewalkerfantasy · 5 years

Text

The day its all began... [2/17]

Summary: Arriving to the crime scene, FBI agent Seeley Booth and his partner Temperance Brennan from Jeffersonian Institute, never could have imagined, what they would see. Does this really seems, that ghosts of the past have been returned to complete their work. Or is there more to this story than meets the eye? All agent Booth and Dr. Brennan has to go on is crucified body on the tree and a bunch of bones and flesh, and sign cut on the chest. Will they be able to identify and give the face to the victim. Or this victim will become another one from the myriad of faceless victims of crimes?

Pairings: Booth x Brennan

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, Multiple deaths (children), corps description. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Words Count: 1599

Note: All rights reserved to Hart Hanson, Fox Television, Kathy Reichs and whoever else work on this brilliant TV series I just borrowing their characters and nothing else. Also Miles Straume I will borough from LOST creators, thought he is original character in this Universe with his own story line. This was my first series I wrote, also this was originally written in Russian and I’m translated it to English. I’m trying to do my best there, so hopefully you will like it. Please let me know.

Please let me know, if you want to be added or removed from tags list, no hard feeling, I understand that this may be not everyone peace of cake.

Taggs: @thesassysparkle @elles-choices @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @boneandfur @tmarie82 @walkerismychoice @darley1101

Washington, DC

Rock Creek Park

11th June, 9am

Stopping on the side of the road in about 45 minutes, the partners get out of the car and moved inside the park. Turning to the left from the main trail they walked for a while through forest in the direction of the creek. It took them just ten minutes to come to the halt in front of FBI cordon’s tape. Noticing them, the man of about 40 years old with a confident look, but with sign of tiredness on his face, headed toward them.

- Hey, it took you long enough to get there, - stated the man, slightly lifting the FBI tape and letting Booth and Brennan pass to the crime scene.

- Miles... - spoke Booth shaking the man’s hand, - Brennan, this is agent Straume - my former partner. Miles, this is Temperance Brennan from Jeffersonian Institute, she is working with me as my partner. She and her team are helping in victim and cause of death identification.

- How and who found the body? - shaking man’s hand, Temperance immediately got down to business and headed to the crime scene.

- Some guy was walking with his dog and he noticed something on that hill over there, - Miles pointed in the distance, where already was crowded with FBI agents and onlookers outside the cordon, - Our guys arrived as soon as they could, after receiving the call. What we found... this became a test even for us. Your assistant arrived a couple of minutes ago, he is waiting for your there, - spoke man, pointing once more in the same direction on the big pine tree in the middle of the hill, - poor guy went white as a sheet, when he seen this, - in quick strides they approached the place indicated by Straume, covering the distance in a minutes, they stopped to the halt at the food of the hill. But what they saw on top was too much even for a Brennan, who seen a lot of corpses even in worst condition before and during her work for FBI and Jeffersonian.

Judging by the bone and body structure, this was a child, crucified on the tree. Taking a deep breath, she climbed the hill coming closer to the crime scene and realising that this was not all. She could feel the nausea washed over her, when she have made her next observations: “The skin on the face was torn off to the bones, fingers were missing on one hand, and some sign was cut on the chest. With a bottom half of the body, apparently, have worked some animals. Also scraps of meat and bones were scattered at a rather large distance.” The body was in such state that this was impossible to identify a victim. Brennan came closer to the tree, not even noticing that Booth state behind. Looking around, she found her assistant, who was pale and looked at one point.

- Zack, - she spoke, pulling the young guy from his benumb condition and giving him some instructions, - you will need to scour the area and collect the missing parts of the skeleton. Also you will need to take a pictures of the crime scene and... - before she could finish, a young girl approached them. She was in her late 20th, her golden hairs fell down from her slender shoulders and her big crystal blue eyes were focused on them.

- Hello, my name is Claire Maggregon. I’m a professional photographer of The Washington Post, I spoke with this man over here, - girl pointed in Booth direction who spoke with some FBI agent, whose name Brennan couldn’t recall, on the foot of the hill, - and was told that this is okay to make a photos of a crime scene to raise an awareness among the residents. Also I couldn’t help, but overheard that you need someone to make photos of this... there, - her already big eyes got even bigger and her pale skin became even whiter, when she noticed a body crucified on the tree and parts of the flesh and bones around. She swallowed hard refocusing her gaze on Temperance and taking a deep breath she continued not letting Brennan to object, - I can help. I’m the best photographer you ever could find and I’m keen to the details. Whatever you need will be there.

- Good, - grudgingly agreed Brennan, - but you need to pay extreme attention to the details. I need pictures from all angles and nothing should be missing.

- Of course. This is understandable. Moreover, I can show you pictures straight after I complete to make them and if something will be missing, you can tell me what else you need, - said Claire friendly, with enthusiasm getting to work.

Having sighed heavily, and gaining more air into the lungs, Brennan put on gloves and proceeded with body primary examination before body would be taken to Jeffersonian Institution. Usually this part of her job was easily done and never caused any difficulties, but today... today this was much more difficult to perform. But she quickly brushed these thoughts aside and tried to concentre on the details even harder. Setting to work, she started to speak her observations on a tape recorder: "This is a child. A boy, around 6-8 years old, an approximate height of 3 feet 12 inches, race is uncertain. Obviously played soccer."

- What makes you think he played soccer? - asked Booth, who had climbed the hill at that time. Brennan continued body examination, meantime answering the question that seemed so obvious to her:

- The anterior cruciate ligament is torn. It's most commonly torn during sports that involve sudden stops and changes in direction. Based on my knowledge I would say this is more likely is soccer than any other sport. This injuries mechanism often concludes in valgus curvature of the tibia and its pronation.

-Bones, please say it in normal language? - wearily asked Booth.

- Simply speaking, he had a knee injury with a pathological curvature of the lower leg to the outside, which can only be obtained by playing this sport, - said Temperance, as if explaining the obvious things to the child.

- She is smart, - smirked agent Straume who came up at this time, - and also good looking, - stated Miles, watching curiously at Hale, not noticing the disgruntled gaze of his former partner.

- When he died? - asked Booth, ignoring his former partner and trying to hide his irritation.

- It’s hard to say. I’ll need to examine the skeleton in the laboratory, - said Brennan a little bit guiltily, lifting her head and looking on Booth intently, - well, it will be necessary to remove the body from the tree. But this needs to be done very carefully, so bones wouldn’t be damaged. They are already too fragile.

- All right, I'll give you a rate, - Booth said with a salute.

- I don’t know what this means? - uttered Brennan frowning and straightening to her full height. Booth smiled slightly and throwing orders to the FBI agents headed to the car, showing agent Straume that he is driving with them. Striding slowly toward the car, Miles did not take his eyes off Temperance, who was walking in front of him. He slowed down waiting for Booth to reach him. For a second they walked in silence, while Miles looked at him with interest and, following his gaze, grinned.

- She doesn’t look bad, - stated Miles with a smirk, - single?

- This is none of your business, - cut off Booth, barely restraining himself and his boiling anger.

- Don't worry my friend, I was just curious. Also... Booth, I’m not a fool. I noticed how you devour her with your eyes, and look at me like in the good old days, when I did something that went against your ethical considerations.

- Straume, shut up, - Booth growled through clenched teeth. And then taking a deep breath, he added guiltily, - I'm sorry. I just had a very bad morning... So sorry if your remark doesn’t humour me. This case... Shit, - swore the man under his breath and closed eyes for a moment before continuing, - This case and the last one we worked together are like two peas in a pod. Miles, I am so sorry. I just tried to forget everything what happened then. I tried not to think, tried to hide from my memory that this was my fault why Nick has died. I'm so sorry. And this case is so similar to the last one. It feels like the ghosts of the past have been returned to complete their work.

- I know. I myself would gladly forgot about those times. But apparently someone decided to remind us of them, - said Miles, who turned a little paler and patted Booth on the shoulder, - Seeley, you know, I have never blamed you for Nick’s death. This was my fault too.

- If I wouldn’t insist on location that we need to check first and on calling for backup, he would have been still alive, - said Booth.

Coming to the halt, they stood there for a bit, remembering the events they both wanted to forget. Both men not even noticing, that Brennan tactfully walked a couple of meters away and waited for them patiently, what was quite odd for her usual self.

#bonestv #the day its all began #seeley booth #temperance brennan #detective fbi #long post #serial killer #child death

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thatsnotwhoifuckingam · 6 years

Text

Ali goes full meta regarding this weekend’s drama...

I don’t know about you but I spent a lot of my weekend watching pics and comments come in from Chicago. Anyone who’s seen my blog knows I’m 100% a Misha Girl. That doesn’t mean I don’t love the other actors/actresses, they all make up the awesomeness that is my favorite television show, hands down. This is the first time I’ve been fully engaged in a fandom so this is also my first experience with a mass reaction to something an actor says/does - real time - and let me tell you, I was all over that emotional roller coaster.

Jensen answered a question during the Gold Panel on Sunday by quoting Kripke who said basically that, at it’s heart, the show is about the two brothers and the proverbial shit hit the fan.

Now, I admit, I didn’t see it for myself because the videos weren’t out yet, so my initial reaction was heavily influenced by the twitter freak out. Being the sensitive person I am, I was really hurt for Misha and felt like he was being pushed aside as if he wasn’t important.

I think most of us think of Misha as this sensitive, tenderhearted, sweet man who needs our protection. The reality is that Mish is a grown-ass man. He knows the writers could kill Cas off at any time. Would they given the size of his fan base? Probably not. (Purely my opinion - can’t back it up) Would the show go on? Yep. Realistically speaking, it IS really about the Winchesters. (REMEMBER: I LOVE MISHA - Don’t crucify me yet...)

In order to keep the show fresh and interesting they add new characters in from time to time. Why do you think Jack is there? They killed off Crowley who was conceivably a large part of the show. Hearts were broken, mine included, but the show went on. They killed off Lucifer. I didn’t care about that as much but some people did. ;)

My point is, yes Cas is a big part of the show. Arguably bigger than Crowley and Lucifer, but he’s not integral. They can and have done the show without him.

Misha seems unbothered by what Jensen has said, and honestly I think we should be as well. I spent all day Sunday pissed off at Jensen (guarantee he didn’t give two shits either..) because of how he’d stirred up the fan base. I complained to my Tumblr buddy about how he must have known what was going to happen when he said it! And didn’t he care about Misha at all! She very gently pointed out the obvious because I was too pissed off to see it myself.

(That was totally me...)

The reality is, these guys are humans. They’re going to say things without thinking them completely through. Probably a lot. (Please see Jared’s immigration joke from the second J2 Panel...WTF cutie pie.) Most of us can agree that we do too. I’ve stuck my foot in it many times and will continue to do so. Let’s cut them some slack.

One last point that my dear Tumblr Buddy made. These guys have worked their asses off for 13 seasons (SOON TO BE 14!). The show is a success because they all love each other and it comes through the acting loud and clear. Let’s allow them to celebrate that, even if it doesn’t always rope in Misha.

We love you boys, keep doing what you do!

#Misha Collins #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #Supernatural drama

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stevedonnellyfaith-blog · 5 years

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The Blessing Jar (Post 36) 5-14-14)

Throughout this past week the Donnelly family has been overwhelmed with the loving generosity of IHM parishioners. We have received an abundance of prayers, visits, food, magazines and religious items from many many people. As a patient in Sutter Delta, my son Nick had a private room with several chairs for guests and a couple of tables that the Daughters of Mary continuously heaped with food throughout the week. Being a worrywart, I continuously tried to keep track of who had brought which silverware and which containers so that I could be sure that everything was returned properly.

Round about Wednesday I noticed an unaccounted empty clear mason jar and asked Abby - a girl who has previously lived in Virginia, Kentucky, North Carolina and Indiana - which of the Men of St Joseph had brought the moonshine and why she had not saved me a taste. She explained that the empty jar was a "Blessing Jar;" its purpose was to store slips of paper describing ways we have been blessed. The gift caused me to review my week from a more Christian perspective.

I had kicked off my vacation with a weekend in Ohio with Stephen Jr. We were there to deliver young Natalie to her grandparents for the summer and expected to stay another week. In vacation mode we slept in on Sunday opting to attend an excellent Teen Life mass at the Catholic Church in the town where I grew up. Abby had called earlier with news that Nick had taken an ambulance ride to Sutter Delta for the side pain that he had been complaining about for the last several days. While we were concerned about Nick's medical symptoms, we expected that his poor diet had finally resulted in kidney stones. Nick's planned enlistment in the navy had reached a snag when a doctor had discovered than Nick had an abnormal testicle and six oversized moles that would all need to be removed. We had gotten him a follow-up appointment for those issues, but new medical symptoms seemed to be cropping up on a daily basis. Nick had needed be seen at Urgent Care just the week before for constipation. It seemed as if all his body parts had conspired to ruin the end of his senior year. On the previous Friday Nick had seemingly dragged his rebellious innards across the finish line to receive his diploma from Liberty High School.

Back from church, I watched some television with my dad. I was looking forward to a quiet week away from work and hoped for good news from Abby as I picked up the phone. The news was not good. Nick's scan had showed cancerous lesions on his lungs and organs throughout his abdomen. She needed me to come home immediately. It was about 10:00 PM Eastern Time. Cleveland Hopkins Airport would not have flights until the morning. I explained what Abby had said to my tearful mother, father, Stephen and Natalie. I went upstairs to pack. My brother Sean texted me. He would swing by the house at 5:00 AM to shuttle me to the Delta terminal. He said they had flights leaving all day so I should be able to find a seat.

I kept my composure in front of my folks and kids, but I seemed to enter a very dark tunnel. It seemed that my failure to act quickly with regard to Nick's health had resulted in pending multiple organ failure and rampant cancer for my younger son. My idea to travel east to consider my future in a comfortable surrounding looked like an exceedingly poor and selfish decision in hind sight. I laid down for a few hours of joyless shut-eye after giving final instructions to Stephen and Natalie.

Neither Sean nor I spoke on the forty-five minute commute from Streetsboro to Hopkins. I don't remember the drive, or my discussions with the Delta representative about the obligatory change and baggage fees. (My dad had insisted that I take two of his credit cards and all the cash he had in the house to cover whatever costs I ran into.) Years ago I made a similar dark plane ride that I don't remember well back from a port of call in Corfu, a Greek island. Pam had told me over the phone that my then four year old son Stephen had sweat tested positive for cystic fibrosis. I don't remember any of the arrangements or how I got from airport to airport or what was served on the flight. By the time I landed all I knew was that I didn't want to be a naval officer anymore and I did not want to bury my son.

I stayed a week and bought Stephen a dog on my emergency leave. Then as naval officers do, I flew back to the Med and navigated my ship home. I don't remember much of the rest of that deployment. Happily two years later in Cincinnati, Ohio another doctor changed Stephen's diagnosis. We had wasted about a hundred thousand back compressions and Stephen had needlessly huffed seeming gallons of nebulizer juice. He didn't have cystic fibrosis. I wish I had had the blessing jar then.

My plane touched down in SFO at around 1:00PM on Monday. I had decided that Nick's friend Josh would receive Nick's beloved white Sierra pick-up. (Stephen would have totaled it in a week.) The plane taxied and stopped at the gate. I switched on my phone which buzzed with texts and updates. I sat and considered reading them from my middle seat as anonymous passengers to my right and left began to pull their bags from the overhead bins.

Would I trust God and read the messages?

I would.

Could I accept my son's mortality?

I could, but without joy. I expected that my second dark night would extinguish all earthly joy from my life.

What was my responsibility?

My responsibility was to accept my cross, to read my text messages and to continue to act as the father of my children.

I opened the several messages that Abby had sent while I was flying. It was all the good news that God intended for me. The tumors were lesions from the bad testicle, a highly treatable form of cancer. Nick's vital organs were painful but not in the process of shutting down. There would be no bedside end of life decisions. My tears came finally as I sat alone in my center seat as the cabin around me prepared to disembark.

The blessing cup sits on my kitchen table with the lid open. I contemplate it, but have not filled it despite all the blessings that have poured forth this last week. There are still struggles - Nick has excruciating pain that will persist until the lesions are killed with chemo - yet we are a blessed family. God blesses us daily and hourly through His own hand and through the actions and prayers of our friends and family.

Is the mason jar empty because I am ungrateful or unwilling to accept the pain that comes with being a father and husband?

In my view the jar seems to be full already and pouring forth Jesus' unfathomable mercy upon me from its open top.

Was Stephen misdiagnosed with cystic fibrosis or miraculously cured?

Was Pam taken from us an untimely death or granted extra time to be with us by Jesus mercy?

How will Jesus change our family through Nick's illness?

I have no answers. Having surrendered my life to Jesus I accept what blessings he gives to me both sweet and bitter. I contemplate Christ crucified and try to march with my own cross alongside him. I hope to be like the good thief whose burdened hike up Golgotha allowed him to join Jesus' royal family in glory. Personally, I would prefer and orange spongy cross embossed with a Nerf logo, but I don't get to pick my cross. In retrospect I can see the blessings in each challenge that Jesus carries me through. I know that I am called to see the blessings as they happen, but I know that level of cheerful suffering is currently beyond me. Jesus seems quite determined that I complete the lesson of suffering perfectly. It seems like a very good idea for those around me that I concentrate and get it right this time through.

#Blessing jar #IHM #Men of St Joseph #divine mercy #grace #cystic fibrosis #faith #God #Jesus #The Holy Spirit #cancer #catholic suffering #love #penance #healing #communion

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words-writ-in-starlight · 7 years

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Okay, for Steve Rogers prompts: Steve is leaving the grocery store and hears some guy yelling at the little Girl Scouts selling cookies about how Feminism Is Ruining This Country and Girl Scouts Are Evil for Supporting Abortion and Lesbians. (Because this actually happens, it happened to me when I was a kid. And once you are like 13 you are allowed to sell without an adult, so me and my friend were alone).

Ahahaha yeah, good times, been there, donethat. Right, so, I’m picturing this aslike a month or two after Avengers, while Steve is still Figuring Out the2000’s. Also featuring: Steve swearinglike a Brooklyn kid who went into the Army, and my weird obsession withtime-displaced super soldiers who are angry about bananas. WARNING: 100% WISH FULFILLMENT. Some general assholery and Steve losing his temper a little under the cut because…this is longer than I meant it to be.

Steve was sure it would shock any number of people, but his biggestproblems with the 21st century weren’t the televisions, phones, orcoffee makers (thank you, Stark). Therewas a learning curve, but it was reminiscent of the learning curve after he’dgotten the serum—hell, he’d gone from a colorblind, partly deaf asthmatic withmore chronic illnesses than you could fit on a chart to a walking talkingsuperhuman. The whole world had beenbrighter, louder, and faster-paced than Steve had ever been remotely preparedto deal with, so he went onto stages and into battles until he adapted. The 21st century was brighter,louder, and faster-paced than the forties could have dreamed, so Steve got onhis bike and went to tour the country without help. By the time he got back, he was pretty surehe could manage technology well enough to Google shit like ‘what is Facebook.’

(Google was good. Steve fuckingloved Google. All the answers were onGoogle. Including answers to questionshe never needed answered, but he had gotten better at choosing his searchterms.)

No, Steve’s biggest problems with the 21st century, otherthan the obvious fact that it wasn’t hiscentury, mostly revolved around money.

Example: who in their right goddamn mind paid seven dollars for a poundof apples? Had anyone ever heard ofaffordable bread? What the fuck washappening with the price of potatoes—potatoes,for the love of God.

“Inflation’s a bitch,” a passing college student said in dry amusement,obviously picking up on his bitter muttering. Steve’s scowl deepened and he put the apples in his cart.

For the first time in his life, Steve actually didn’t have to worryabout money—apparently seventy years of back pay totaled up to a significantamount of cash—but that didn’t mean that he didn’t wince as he did the math forhis food. If this was usual for oneperson, what the hell were families paying? Bucky’s family had been Bucky, his ma, his dad, and all three of thegirls, plus sometimes Steve. How was afamily of seven affording thisfood? He added it to his mental list ofthings to Google, along with what iswrong with bananas.

Bananas. Of all the things forthe future to fuck up, fucking bananas were weird bland not-bananas now. Steve hadnever had strong opinions on bananas before, but live and goddamn learn,apparently.

Anyway. The money thing was why,upon entering the grocery store,Steve hadn’t paused at the table set up just inside the door, save to read thesign hanging in front of it—it was good to see that the Girl Scouts hadsurvived. Nonetheless, he could bakecookies his own self and probably get a better net value than six bucks for atiny box, thanks. To be polite, he’dwaved a little to the girls at the table, both wearing green sashes and winningsmiles as they did a slow but respectably steady business, and then he’d goneon his damn way like a civilized human being.

But God forbid that otherpeople could do the same. Steve checkedout with his apples and cereal and soup ingredients (and no bananas), put themin pair of reusable grocery bags, and started for the door just in time to hearraised voices.

Well. A raised voice. It soundedlike a man, older, with a neutrally middle American accent. The table where the Girl Scouts had beenselling their cookies was ringed by a small crowd, steadily growing larger bythe moment, and Steve had to mutter a string of ‘scuse-me-sorry-ma’am-can-I-just-yeah-thanks under his breath as heshouldered through to see what was happening.

The voice belonged to a guy in his fifties, thickset but not out ofshape, with dark hair just going salt-and-pepper. His face was flushed red, twisted into abitter snarl as he shouted at the two stiff-backed girls behind the table. Steve noted that the girls, both wide-eyedand pale with a sort of primal panic, couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteenat the most.

“—nothing but needy bitches looking to take advantage of men! This,” the man snarled, slamming a hand downon the table so hard that it shook, “is a cult, designed to convince our children that ‘feminism’ is good forthe country instead of being an excuse for women to work less and get paidmore.”

“Can you hold onto this for me?” Steve murmured, turning and offeringone of his bags to the young woman to his left, and she nodded absently, takingthe bag without letting her phone shake as she recorded the situation.

“Besides,” the man continued, clearly getting into his rant, “the GirlScouts support homosexual behavior—are you two girlfriends? Are you dykes,or are you waiting to get older so that you can get knocked up by some guy andabort your baby? Maybe you’re justplanning to have the kid,” he spat, “and get on welfare so that the rest of uscan pay for everything you need.”

“Hey,” Steve said to the guy on his right, “can you take this?” The guy took his other bag, a nauseated lookon his face.

“What, are you going to cry?” the man sneered down at the two girls infront of him—one of them did look like she was about to cry, almost shaking ashe loomed over her. “I thought youfemi-nazi cunts were supposed to be tougher than–”

“That is enough,” Steve said,stepping forward and catching the man’s arm. He had a not-insignificant height advantage—Steve was a clean and evensix feet, but the man was perhaps five inches shorter, enough that Steve couldloom just as effectively as the man had been doing over the two girls. “You’re done.”

“Let me go, you fucking–”

The man spun, and made a critical mistake. He threw a punch.

Steve caught him by the wrist, twisted, and the man dropped to one kneewith a yelp like a rabbit in a trap, his arm angled sharply up behind his back. Steve pressed down a little, the barest fractionof his strength, and got a string of curses in reply.

“Now,” Steve said in his most reasonable voice, feeling the bubblinganger fill his chest and make his head light. “Why don’t you walk away before this gets any messier?”

“Who the fuck are you?” theman panted through clenched teeth.

“My name’s Steve,” Steve said. Hisheart was beating with the bone-rattling speed he remembered from when he was akid, getting into fights on the streets of Brooklyn—now, he took care not tolet it make his hands shake. If he lostfocus and closed his fist any harder, he might break the man’s wrist. If he broke any bones, Steve intended to doso on purpose. “I don’t like bullies. So. How about you just get the hell out of here, now, before I have one ofthese nice folks call the police?”

“Oh, um, I did that,” a voice said, and a woman about two ranks back inthe crowd shakily held her phone up as proof. A little girl clung to one of her hands. “Sorry, I just–”

“No, that’s great, ma’am,” Steve interrupted with a smile. “That was real smart of you.”

“You cocksucking freak,” the man snarled up over his shoulder, and Stevepressed down a bit harder on the arm locked across his back. He could feel the man’s shoulder creakingdangerously, threatening to dislocate as the man made a shrill sound of pain.

“I don’t like that kind of language, either,” Steve said sternly. He looked up at the two girls, who werewatching him with something very close to tearful awe. “Are you two kids okay?” he asked, trying tosound as gentle as he could manage. Oneof them nodded slowly, and jabbed her friend with an elbow until the other girlnodded too.

“Um,” the first girl said, “do you mind if I—are you Captain America?”

Steve winced a little, offered her a wry smile. “Steve, please. So, am I just real obvious?”

“Yes,” she said baldly, and Steve chuckled at that, earning a shaky grinfrom the girls.

“Bullshit,” the man on his knees hissed, and Steve felt the fine threadof his self-control snap. The pop of thedislocating shoulder was quick and loud in the crowd, and Steve dropped the manin disgust.

“You listen to me,” Steve said, struggling to keep his voice even as hegave the man an ungentle prod with his knee, forcing him to look up at Stevestanding over him. “I’ve known women inthe Army who could hand your ass to you on a plate, and girls in telephonecenters and diners who could outtalk, outthink, and outfight half the guys Iserved with. Lesbians too. And every last one of ‘em was being paid shitfor their work and ignored every second of the time they weren’t being hit onby scum-suckin’ trash like you. You wantto crucify someone for being pro-abortion, you can pick on someone your owndamn size. The Tower ain’t that hard tofind, I’m sure you can have a nice talk with the Widow about women’s health.”

“I wasn’t–”

“And as long as we’re on the subject,” Steve continued, raising hisvoice to drown out the man on the ground. “How goddamn dare you throwaround words like ‘Nazi’ about people who just want to be treated like humanbeings. These two girls are fucking teenagers,what the hell were you thinking? Don’tanswer that,” he said mercilessly, crouching down to be on a level. “Because listen real close, pal, but youweren’t in the right seventy years ago and you ain’t in the right now, and I’mstill real fucking tired of hearing your bullshit.”

Steve stood up and turned to the young woman who had taken one of hisgrocery bags, realizing with a burst of rueful amusement that he was facing awall of phone cameras recording him.

“So, uh, folks,” he said, already mentally drafting the apology letter hewould need to write to the PR team Pepper and SHIELD had assigned to theAvengers, “when you inevitably put that online, it would be real great if youcould forward it to Fox News so they stop calling me. Can I have my groceries back, please?”

#steve rogers #pro choice #avengers #yeah i don't know what else to tag this with #girl scouts #????#aggressively progressive steve rogers #in case you're curious those two girl scouts show up at the tower to thank steve later that afternoon #and tony cleans them out of thin mints and buys clint a box of samoas #clint does not like samoas #they become the samoas of shame and magically appear on the kitchen table of whoever has pissed off the previous owner #until one of the scientists absent-mindedly eats them all during a 72 hour research binge #yep #this is how my brain works #starlight writes stuff #asked and answered #fic request #maelace #avengers fic #mcu fic #also this is the pr team's first introduction to the fact that steve is the worst #he goes from being a relative media nonentity to being viral as fuck on every platform #'capdoesn'tlikebullies' is the top trending tag for literally almost a whole week #fox news gets like fifty different versions of the video sent to them #three members of the pr team quit within the week and one of them doesn't even make it through the day #'didn't you have the dream job of being like captain america's pr rep' her friend asks her #'you don't understand' the woman wails into her double vodka cranberry

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joyofcrime-elinorhigh · 5 years

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Steven Universe Hit the Diamond REVIEW:

Hello there, everybody! My name is JoyofCrimeArt and I apparently do cartoon reviews now! Now last time I did a review like this I did a three part review about how I think that the 2016 Powerpuff Girls reboot wasn't THAT bad. So now, just in case there are some of you out there who don't already want to kill me, now I'm going to do a review of Steven Universe that...isn't....one hundred percent.....positive. OH MY GOD, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME TUMBLR! Okay, I just want to make this clear right now, I don't hate this episode. Not at all, and this is not a wholly negative review. There are a lot of things in this episode that I do like. I just felt like this episode had some things in it that was worth talking about, and was also just good material to make jokes out of. That being said, since I'm new to this whole reviewing thing I should probably quickly talk about my thoughts on Steven Universe as a whole first, just so you all know where I'm coming from in terms of my views and opinions about the show. Also spoiler warning for Steven Universe up this point, as Hit the Diamond is the newest episode of Steven Universe currently out as of the time of me writing this. Steven Universe, I believe, is kinda overrated. I also think that it's quite possibly my favorite show currently on television, and one of the greatest shows Cartoon Network has ever made. Steven Universe is an amazing show that manages to encapsulate so many genres and story ideas together in a way that works very naturally. I love how it's able to combine elements of Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Comedy, Action, Adventure, and Magical Girl tropes together to make a truly amazing story. The characters are fun and likable and the animation is just amazing. I know some people have problems with it because how the characters can sometimes be a bit off model at points but what they do with color and backgrounds is just so amazing. The show has a truly compelling ongoing story and mystery as we learn more about The Gems and there homeworld, and as more and more side characters make there way into becoming main characters the show is able to actually answer the questions it raises while still having more and more stories to tell. Steven Universe is truly a great show and if you haven't seen it I HIGHLY suggest you check it out. Now then if all of this is true though why would I say it's overrated? Well there are some people online who think the show is good too...perhaps a bit too good. A lot of people online act like the show is perfect and anybody who thinks differently are wrong. The fanbase for this show, like many large fanbases can be hostile. Now I'm not saying there ALL like that or anything, and I don't think you should let the fanbase stop you from enjoying the show, but what I am saying is that the show has flaws. And I actually took some time to think if I should review this show because of how some people will attack you if you point out any flaws, but I'm hoping we can all be open minded about this and have a polite and thought out discussion about this episode and hear each other out without jumping to a-OH GOD NO! PUT DOWN THE FLAMETHROWER- Anyway, now that all that is out of the way, let's talk about this episode, "Hit the Diamond." (Love the pun in the title by the way, good start.) Now this episode starts right where the last episode, "Barn Mates" left off. A team of five Ruby soldiers had landed on Earth, supposedly looking for Peridot. We see them come out of the ship and I like how they all do have different designs, and even some hints of different personalities. In "The Answer" all Rubies seem to just act the same, which I though was kinda a waste, but here they do act differently from each other, while still keeping there soldier like mentality that Rubies seem to normally have, which is nice cause it shows the Rubies as individuals in some ways, while still showing how Homeworld still holds a tight grip on things like individuality. They act different, but there still all soldiers. It's a nice middle ground. Steven, Lapis, and Peridot tell the other gems about the Rubies and Peridot makes an expression that...well...I could look at it for hours and still find it funny.

What the actual heck is wrong with this, even Lapis is confused. By the way Peridot and especially Lapis are hilarious in this episode. (Lapis I'll explain later on.) Peridot's reaction to Garnet calling her a clod is so funny and actually heartwarming in an unintentional way. So anyway Garnet decides to unfuse and become Ruby and Sapphire. Sapphire tells Ruby to go over to the other Rubies, and to act casual, because she wants to deal with this situation non violently. We see Rubies amazing casual strut and the other Rubies tell our Ruby to check out the barn after MISCOUNTING the number of soldiers with them! Now this is actually where the designs of the Rubies being different actually becomes a flaw. If the Rubies all looked the same, like they did in "The Answer" we could just have Ruby knock one of them out or something and take her place, but now, because the designs are different the only way we can have Ruby join the other Rubies is by making all the other Rubies be stupid! I'll get into this more as I continue to describe the plot but this becomes a big problem for the episode, from a story telling perspective. Ruby comes back to the Barn with Steven and Ruby tells the other Rubies that there are humans in the barn and Steven tells the Rubies that the only way that they will be allowed to search the barn is by beating the humans in a game of BASEBALL! Now I can understand that Steven would say something like that. He was holding the baseball bat that Amethyst gave him and he only had a second to think of an excuse on why the Rubies can't enter the barn. My problem here is, why do the Rubies care about what the humans say. Rubies are soldiers and The Homeworld Gems are imperialist and genocidal to humans. I know that Homeworld isn't ACTIVELY trying to destroy the Earth, but if a human gets in the way of there mission why wouldn't they try to kill them, like how Peridot tried to kill Steven when they first met, and he was just somewhere he wasn't suppose to be? The Rubies could just fuse and step on Steven, they don't know the other Gems are there. But whatever, they wanted to do a baseball episode and I'm pretty sure there would be no logical way to justify it, so it does count as a slight plot hole in order to make a good story, which is okay because the idea of the Gems playing baseball is a really funny one, but it still makes the Rubies look like total clods! Steven and Ruby come back to the barn and tell the other Gems about the game. Sapphire comments about how even with future vision she did not see this coming and Lapis delivers a line that really...all things considered...sums up the episode.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgxYUxqcg1Q

Hey guys, are we sure that Lapis Gem is a Lapis Lazuli? Are we sure? Because I don't think her Gem is a Lapis Lazuli, I think it might actually be crystallized CRYSTALLIZED SALT BECAUSE THROUGHOUT THIS WHOLE EPISODE LAPIS IS SALTY AS FU*K!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpj6Nuc1SI4

Seriously, watch the episode again, and pay attention to Lapis's deliveries and facial expressions. She is so salty! I guess after being imprisoned three time's she is just has zero fu*ks left to give.

(Also I like how she doesn't have a belly button, that was a nice touch.) Anyway all the Crystal Gems except Peridot begin playing baseball against the Rubies, claiming that there humans. Now granted, they are all using fake names, (as seen in the picture above) and wearing clothes that would hide there gems, but still, this is really contrived and stupid! Now I get that the Homeworld Gem's haven't been on Earth in thousands of years, and we don't know if these Rubies where even there during the first Gem War, but are to really believe that whoever sent these Rubies to Earth, weather or not it was Yellow Diamond herself or some underling of Yellow Diamond, didn't give the Rubies an even BASIC description of what a human was! And another thing, have these Rubies never seen a Pearl before while on Homeworld? Or a Sapphire? Or a Lapis? I mean it's possible that maybe they didn't but I still find it pretty hard to believe that these Rubies wouldn't be able to figure out that these are in fact Gems. It's another example of the Rubies being stupid just to advance the plot! So the game begins and it goes about as well as you would expect, and I kinda wish more of the episode was devoted to seeing the Gem's play baseball, like the volleyball game in "Beach Party" but the it takes a good half the episode to get to the game and when you count the episodes climax most of the episode is not focused on the game itself. I can't fault the show on this, as they even had to take some time out of the LAST episode to set this plot up, so really it's just a small nitpick. So as the game goes on but the Crystal Gem's start to lose because Ruby and Sapphire aren't focusing on the game but are, as Lapis saltily put it, are flirting.....This is going to be the part that Steven Universe fans crucify me for isn't it? Now I don't want this to become misconstrued or anything and turn into a debate in the comments of about sexuality and calling me a bigot or anything, BUT...I just want to make my case here. I have no problem with Ruby and Sapphire being a gay couple, and they can be a really cute couple together. In fact "Keystone Motel" is all about Ruby and Sapphire and that is one of my favorite episodes of the whole dang series. But, and I might get some hate for saying this but, for the love of God can you two just keep it in your pants for five minutes! Your friends life in on the line for Gods sake! I mean this is a serious, I'll be it pretty stupid, situation! You need to keep your head in the game for the sake of the mission. I mean you guys are fused together all the time, which I would think would be like the ultimate form of flirting, and now that your unfused you literally can't spend even a second not being all lovey dovey to each other, even when, again, PERIDOT'S LIFE IS AT STACK! I mean I have no problem with gay characters in children's media, I really don't, but there are bigger things on the line right now! Sapphire even says later in this episode that she can't keep her eye on the ball because she just wants to look at Ruby. I mean you two can be as gay as you want with each other after the game, it's not like you two are going anywhere! Even the best couples give each other some space. I mean there lovey dovey-ness is the main conflict in the episode, and before you call me a homophobe keep in mind that Steven and even PEARL acknowledges that there behavior is a problem! PEARL! The character who spends half of her episodes being obsessed with Rose, if Pearl thinks that your being to clingy you KNOW you have a serious problem...and the worst part of all of this is that now I'm going to be hunted down and killed by the Steven Universe fanbase! Do you realize that, I'm going to die a martyr fighting against the STEVEN UNIVERSE BASEBALL EPISODE! It's times like this where you question your life choices. So anyway now that you all hate me now let's finish up describing this episode. So in the end of the episode Sapphire is able to keep her eye off Ruby for like, three seconds and is able to hit the ball and get a home run. However the only reason she's able to look away from Ruby isn't because she realizes that there's bigger things at stake here, but because Ruby assures her that she can look at her when she's running back to home. (Oy.) Anyway Sapphire is able to run to home base and ends up fusing with Ruby by accident revealing there true identity as a Gem. The five Rubies then fuse and Charlyne Yi tries really, really hard to do a deep voice but...It doesn't really work. Peridot then comes running out of the barn in a hilarious Peridot-y fashion, telling the Rubies that she's the one there after and that they don't need to hurt the other Gems. Now I know that Sapphire wanted to do this non violently but why they don't just all fuse into Alexandrite and just step on the Rubies is beyond me, and would I suppose wouldn't really fix there problems long term, but still. In all seriousness though seeing Peridot willing to give herself up is a great things to see. The Rubies then inform the Crystal Gems that there not actually after Peridot, but there just looking for Jasper. We also get a great line abut Peridot calling herself leader of the Crystal Gems, which is awesome. Now here's what I don't get, and this might be considered nitpicking but it still bothers me. I get that Yellow Diamond wouldn't care about Peridot, because as far as she knows the planet was about to explode. But what I don't get is why Yellow Diamond, or whoever is in charge of the Rubies, didn't just say "Find Jasper, and if you see this traitor Peridot, shatter her while your there." It would be an easy command to give and since Peridot was the Rubies best chance of finding Jasper (Since Jasper was her escort) Yellow Diamond must of figured that the Rubies would probably meet Peridot while on Earth while searching for Jasper. They have no idea where Jasper is and Peridot would be there only lead. Maybe Yellow Diamond assumed the bomb from "Message Received" killed Peridot but it's not like the bomb was that big, and Garnet was able to dispose of the bomb pretty easily so Peridot probably could of gotten rid of the bomb to if she wasn't to busy hiding in the fetal position. But besides that, why does Yellow Diamond even care about Jasper. She probably has tonnes of other Jasper's and from what we see of Gem society in "The Answer" Gems seem to be seen as easily replaceable by the Diamonds. I mean we haven't seen much of the Diamonds yet so maybe there not as heartless and cold as I'm assuming but it seems like it would be easier to just grow a new Jasper instead of sending an entire fleet of Rubies to Earth. Anyway Steven tells the Rubies that Jasper is on Neptune and the Rubies believe him because, if you haven't noticed by now, the Rubies are idiots! They get back in there ship and The Ruby with a gem in her eye (Cool design by the way) says thank you in a really weird way. I don't know if it's a just a weird read or if it's setting something up that will make all the stuff I just complained about make total sense but whatever, we'll have to wait and see. The episode ends with the Rubies flying away to Neptune to look for Jasper and the episode ends. So what are my final thoughts on this episode? I don't hate this episode, at all. I actually really like it, though in some ways it's in a kinda "What the heck am I watching" kinda way. Kinda like "Say Uncle." There are a lot of things that I legitimately like. The episode is legitimate funny! The concept of The Gems playing baseball is an amazing one! Seeing Peridot be crazy and Lapis being salty is hilarious and seeing Charlyne Yi voice six characters is great. Ruby is so frickin' cute! You could say that Ruby is.....................................................................................................................chibi? Yuk Yuk Yuk!

But then there are the actual flaws in the episode. The whole thing is what TvTropes calls an "Idiot Plot" or a plot that only works when all the characters in it act really really stupid. Now I get that with a concept like there there's no real way to make this plot make sense, and I do think that sitting through the Rubies acting like idiots to get to the "Gems play Baseball." is plot is overall worth it, I just wish they could do it in a way where the Rubies wouldn't need to act THIS stupid! Not only that but Ruby and Sapphire whole romance thing is also pretty bad. Garnet always talks about doing what's best for the mission but Ruby and Sapphire jeopardize the mission throughout the episode and never really learn a lesson from it. I mean there together literally all the time! I would think they could spend a few minutes apart from each other without being so cutesy! I do like this episode, as I love episodes like "Say Uncle" and "Garnet's Universe" where the show just does something weird and wacky, I just think they could of made the plot fit a little better. I mean the last time Homeworld Gems landed on Earth it was made out to be such a big deal, with several episodes about the Crystal Gems preparing and worrying about this oncoming threat. So it seems a bit odd that this time the thought of Homeworld Gems landing is treated so casually. Maybe that's part of the joke but still. I feel this whole episode was just made to homage the "Samurai Champloo" episode "Baseball Blues" which I'm not knocking at all, but it's just a personal theory. We all know how much Rebecca Sugar likes her anime references... So yeah, I hope I was able to explain my points in a manner that let's you see what I think of the episode. I don't hate it, but I do think there are some story problems. What do you think of the episode? Did you like it? Am I a piece of homophobic cis gendered trash? Tell me in the comments down bellow, I would love to have a civil discussion about it, and I would love to hear what you all have to say, even if you personally disagree with me. I also would like to know what you think of my review style, and how I could improve upon it. I tried something new here with the images and the video clips and I tried to be a bit more comedic in this review then the Powerpuff Girl one, so I would want to know what you think. Got any suggestions for things for me to review? Tell me down bellow and maybe if you all like this review I might do one on all of Steven Universe, or at least another episode. Please fav, follow and comment if you liked the review and want to see more and have a great day. dwigif.com/view/P28oyAz (I do not own any of the images or videos in this review all credit goes to there original owners.)

https://www.deviantart.com/joyofcrimeart/journal/Steven-Universe-Hit-the-Diamond-REVIEW-622017366 DA Link

#steven universe #ruby steven universe #sapphire steven universe #cartoon review #hit the diamond

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