#because then it wasn’t an extra charge to a tight budget

[striving-artist]

I'm...not sure food-based punishment IS okay? (I don't mean "you need to eat this because it's (supposed to be) healthy for you even if you don't like it", I mean "I am specifically making you eat a food you don't like because you did a Bad Thing"). Idk i think food as a punishment (and even reward) system could foster a lot of unhealthy eating habits or attitudes towards food.

But i've also never had kids and don't plan on doing so, so my opinions on that are all theoretical

Got a whole whole bunch of answers in various forms. Hallsy, I’m using yours to post because a bunch of comments went beyond the scope of that post so I don’t wanna clog it up.

(Crap this is long because I was working through my own thoughts and I don’t feel like editing)

— TLDR: parenting is hard, long as it’s not malicious, I’m probably not grabbing my pitchfork. —

One: didn’t know he told his kid they were normal apples. That’s nine new layers of wtf.

General Consensus seems to be that any tying of food to punishment (or reward) is shaky ground. And a lot of general statements on kids and food, all fascinating. Couple of comments for intuitive eating, which I think is a mostly great thing… but feels a little disconnected. It isn’t always applicable if you’re broke. Same thing with offering kids a different option if they don’t like that food. If you can only afford the single vegetable on sale and covered by Snap(they’ve improved the system but it’s still imperfect) that week, or if you’re eating whatever the food bank had, disliking a food isn’t enough reason to not eat it. I’m an adult, still hate veg, and still make myself eat some.

If they truly hate it, sure, you’ll avoid it and won’t make them eat it. But when the choice is Kid eats Zero Produce or Kid eats French Cut Green Beans, most parents are gonna insist they eat the beans. Kids are not logical or consistent. Yesterday they adored beans, today, they’re having a tantrum. Planning for their moods is hard, and I often side with the parents.

I also got a lot of general vibes of “the parents should never make a mistake in child rearing” that made me uncomfy. I wish that was a option. Really. But its not gonna happen. Ever. Not only does advice and recommendation change over the years, parents are humans. If you get home after two eight hour shifts in a row and need to make dinner, I can’t blame you for only making one meal choice or being a little snippy when they decide corn is the devil. Heck, less than that.

Legumes make my stomach real unhappy. I didn’t understand why but I knew I didn’t want to eat them. As in, they once said I couldn’t leave the table til I ate the dinner (chili) so I stayed there til midnight. (this was when dad realized this wasn’t just me being a brat and he’d make sure there was a spare stack crackers and extra cheese) But there were three kids, and it took til I was out of the house before it mostly stuck in my moms head that I hated legumes. (It’s cool. I never remember her birthday, she still sends me legume recipes) I know it made her batty that I fought every vegetable. My family loved veg and fruit. I had to be bribed to eat other than my four acceptable ones. I would also have found me very frustrating and probably said “eat it or not, but I’m not making you your own meal” pretty often. Parenting is exhausting y’all.

There’s also the factor of multiple kids. My siblings faves were meals I despised. (See above, chili, which the whole family loved) And vice versa. I’d i was happy, they were suffering. Cooking full alternate meals wasn’t an option(god we were poor) and yeah, they’d give me more of the part I hated least, and I never went to bed hungry, and it wasn’t done as punishment, but my child brain sure as heck thought it was.

The most damaging food based childhood thing wasn’t punishment, it was how hard they tried to avoid wasting food. Again, I get it. They bought the food that was on the cusp of going bad, it couldn’t sit in the fridge for five days. But that meant my dad pushed this No Leftovers thing. And, if you put it on your plate, you had to eat it. All three of us, to this day, have trouble leaving food on the plate even if we’re full. Again, not great, good intentions, he didn’t want us to starve, caused some issues, but not punishment because it wasn’t intended or treated that way.

Specifically on the punishment via food thing, I still find a weird grey zone here.

Say you have four meals planned for the week. One is your middle child’s top five foods. Middle child fights a kid at school. You decide to change plans and not cook that one tonight. (It’s me, I am middle child) that’s definitely in the Punishment category, because you’re withdrawing a promised Good Thing. But I’m totally cool with it now. I took that kid down hard, no, I don’t get to have my fave that night. Or the next.

That’s in the pile of ‘until you X to make up for it, you can’t have Y’ which is a solid thing to me? “Until you apologize for stealing all the crayons from your brother, you can’t keep coloring.” That’s instructive and reinforces better behavior. It being food makes it shaky. I get that. It’s why I asked for opinions in the first place.

I think I’m drawing my line between foods you dislike vs hate. You’re not starving, you’re just not happy about dinner.

And seriously, fuck that guy for the sneak attack spicy apples. If you and your kid show mutual affection via pranks, I’m probably okay with it, cause it’s one bite, they spit it out, and begin plotting revenge. Also, if they’re old enough to pull pranks, they’re old enough to understand that it’s not malicious. But dude. Wtaf

[themonkeycabal]

Wheel of Time Finale -- Revisit

(my original review)

I completely forgive them the problems with the finale and all of them are more or less fixable. The things that remain that I kind of didn’t like, I’ll mostly let those slide with an uncomfortable ‘ehhhh’, because I’ll wait and see. 

I was so bewildered by the finale that I went back and watched the first two episodes again to see if I’d been ignoring issues because I was just so happy to have a series. And, you know what? No, I wasn’t. There were changes that I was ‘meh’ on, but the quality was high and they were good episodes. 

I knew they had to take a forced covid break between eps 6 and 7, but I don’t know what the timeline was. However, comparing now, I’d say they were comfortably well into pre-production with 7, but then got shut down by covid and Barney Harris left. When they were able to start again they were forced to make changes, but the nature of the episode let them absorb the loss of location shooting by mostly staying on sets -- the Ways, Fal Dara. 

The problems really start with ep 8 and it makes so much sense to me now that I see it. 

During the episode, the staging felt weird across the board, the cameras were so static. Actually everybody was static, there was such a strange lack of movement in the episode and everything felt both tight and passive. 

I’m certain they had to trim their crew a lot, including camera crew, so no particularly big dolly shots or crane shots, no big sweeping moves. The cameras were largely locked down and static (there was some handcam). 

No doubt, they had to trim their extras down to almost nothing, so Fal Dara felt weirdly empty and Agelmar’s big charge wasn’t particularly impressive looking. And it means you get a scene of five characters standing on a vast, empty set, more than an arms length apart. No wonder that channeler sequence looked so bizarre. It was five actors, two cameras, and maybe a skeleton crew. 

Any sort of on-set coordinators were also cut to a minimum. No big action sequences in the finale because you literally could not do them -- there’s no stunt crew, stunt coordinators, stunt people, extras, training time, nothing. So, you’re stuck with CG Trollocs and Fades instead of practical ones to fill in or give us our close hand to hand fighting sequences. You’re stuck with Rand and Ishamael staring at each other and their big final sequence is just a bright light and some cg. You’re stuck with Perrin standing there with an axe in his hand doing fuck all. 

That poor production, now I feel sad for them. You come this far, literally years of pre-production planning and development, and then finally shooting, and you get right to your big finale, and you hit a pandemic wall. How frustrating that must have been. 

Then, on top of that, their budget for the episode probably took a massive hit by needing to meet covid protocols (which has been hella expensive for every production -- nobody’s fault, you’re obliged to keep your crew safe, it just is what it is, but it’s definitely having an impact). 

The budget pinch would have bled into the post-production -- the cgi was weak in particular, and while most vfx houses were able to keep operating without much interruption during covid, that doesn’t mean that vfx stopped being expensive. So, if your budget is already taking a hit, then the money for vfx starts to dry up. And there was a weird murkiness in shots that I think might be because they weren’t able to spend the time in color correction/color grading/DI that they wanted to for whatever reason - time or money or people or all the above. 

Though, also, Amazon needs to fix their compression issues, because the blacks completely fall apart no matter what screen I’m watching on and I know it’s them because I’ve seen other people complain about it, too. There’s no excuse for that, Amazon. 

So, to sum up: my bad. While I knew they got interrupted by covid, I didn’t take into account the degree to which they were fucked by it. It’s really clear now, after rewatching the first two eps and the last two, exactly where things got impossible for them, production-wise. 

They did the best they could with the hand they were dealt. All the issues of the finale are fixable. And I look forward to season two. 

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU + NANAMI KENTO || CELEBRATING THEIR S/O’S BIRTHDAY

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + nanami kento from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 30 january

↳ pronouns : non specified in headcanon

↳ request : Hi! I'm so happy to see you're accepting requests again! I really love reading your work, it helps me de-stress ^_^ Could I request headcanons for s/o's birthday celebration with gojo, nanami, itadori, and fushiguro? (Like who'd be the type to throw a surprise party, schedule a date or a little trip, and what kind of gift would they give, etc. Anything about how they would celebrate their s/o's birthday) Thank you and I hope you have a great day <3

↳ barista’s notes : so....i’m not ready for the manga at all guys, like it is going to be updated in a good 36 hours but like i don’t think i can ever prepare myself at all...i...am...terrified .... ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ BUT other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come again soon ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

Itadori is the type to have a surprise party for you since he thinks that having your birthday with your friends and loved ones is the best way to celebrate.

Of course, he has to convince a few people since it can’t just be him by himself celebrating the surprise.

To be honest, it wasn’t hard to convince Fushiguro, Kugisaki, Gojo and Todo because it’s them. The second-years wouldn’t take much either since you are their friend. But, Nanami took a while to open up with the idea since Nanami isn’t the type to outwardly celebrate things like Itadori does.

Everyone helps with the decorations and setting up everything while Itadori is the one that is cooking the food with Fushiguro - because cooking buddies~

I like to think that Itadori can bake since he can cook - so he does make your cake for you.

Please just know that Kugisaki is taking charge of decorations because it’s just her forte.

Since he probably was away for the whole day preparing the surprise for you, you would probably be walking around the school trying to find him, only for your other classmates Fushiguro and Kugisaki to appear right in front of your face.

They will probably blindfold you with no explanation with Kugisaki dragging you by the arms while Fushiguro holds your back to make sure you don’t bump into anything at all.

When your blindfold is taken off, expect to be in a dark room with everyone right in front of you while itadori is holding a cake right in front of you as they sing ‘happy birthday’.

After the whole song and you blowing out the candles, the lights will suddenly turn on and BAM we got a game night tournament of Mario Kart insight.

A whole whiteboard is prepared to see who is versing who with drinks and more snacks prepared for the night.

At the end of the night, Itadori will mostly likely give you a plush that you’ve been looking at since a mission that you both went on - he took a photo because he knows he will forget about it.

Overall, it’s a pretty energetic night you will spend with everyone as they are hyped up to win the whole game night, but the fact that you got to celebrate with your boyfriend and your friends is the main point here.

Unlike Itadori, Fushiguro would want to celebrate your birthday with just both of you alone together.

Fushiguro will probably plan out a whole date for you and will probably make something for you rather than buying something - maybe he will add a bouquet of flowers.

In the morning (if he can cook), Fushiguro will cook breakfast for you and if you are still in bed after he has finished, expect breakfast in bed because he wants to make the day perfect for you.

When it comes to your birthday, it really depends on what season it is in when he plans something.

If it’s during the spring/summer season, he will take you to the park to have a picnic together since it's a time where it’s not too warm but not too cold (depends on the day) - so it’s a perfect balance.

If it’s during the autumn/winter, he will take you somewhere warm like a cafe or go view the Christmas lights since a lot of warm street food will be prepared and that’s the best time to eat as much as you want.

After a peaceful day out, he would give you his gift when you get back to his dorm - it will be personal and it’s probably handmade like an embroidered jumper or knitted scarf, so cherish it.

And if other students have given you a gift, he would hand his last since he’s a bit shy after seeing everyone else’s gifts they have handed you.

The day before, he had prepared your favourite cake from the closest bakery and it will be a small one since it’s just you and him together - he will turn off the lights to make the candles glow your face.

Just know he is secretly taking pictures and a few videos since you have a bright smile on your face since who wouldn’t smile? Your smile is his favourite thing about you.

Overall, your birthday is a personal one with Fushiguro, it’s something that he wants to make perfect and make you the happiest since it is your special day.

Gojo will make sure everyone knows it is your birthday - and I mean EVERYONE, even people from the Kyoto side of Jujutsu Tech.

Of course, he would inform the first years - Fushiguro probably already knows your birthday - and Itadori and Kugisaki will be surprised since this was such a late notice for them to get you anything.

A week or month before your birthday, Gojo will have spent so much money on gifts on you without your realising since he is somehow got at hiding things away from you - since he can disappear and appear in a span of one second.

A few days prior to your birthday, you would find gifts being left around your dorm with random notes attached to them with cute drawings on them.

Let me admit, some of the gifts will be joke gifts like a pregnancy test - hints - or his glasses, and he will come up behind you and say “oh that’s where they were, thank you, baby~.”

Of course, when the gifts are proper gifts, they are fancy as hell since Gojo doesn’t have a budget when it comes to you - he wants to spoil you rotten.

When it comes to your actual birthday, Gojo will be glued to your side since he wants to spend the whole day with you celebrating.

Gojo will be extra affectionate then he would usually be. In the morning, he wants morning cuddles and you’ll probably begin the day with a whole makeout and in the afternoon, he will wrap his arms around your shoulders while whispering sweet nothings to you while giving you a few pecks here and there.

He will take you out to so many dessert places to the point where you get a tiny bit sugar sick but he will also invite the first year to have lunch with you since he knows how much you love them.

When it comes to your cake and candle blowing, except Gojo to wipe some of the whipped cream on your face because he is just a tease and will lick it off of you - disgustingly cute.

Overall, Gojo will be sickly sweet and teasing towards you during your birthday and prior to that, he just wants you to be excited since it is rare that you both get to spend time together during a special occasion like this and he just wants you to be in complete bliss.

Like Fushiguro, Nanami is someone that will want to celebrate your birthday peacefully and with only you and him together.

I know Nanami is more of the classy type and will probably book a reservation to your favourite fancy restaurant since this is one of the only times where you can enjoy your favourite meal there.

Gift wise, Nanami will make sure it is something special and elegant since he wants to give you something memorable since the life of a sorcerer is unpredictable.

Probably a matching watch with his, maybe a simple silver band ring or a bracelet - it is scary how the gift fits really well on you like it’s not too loose or too tight. Nanami has the eyes for detail.

However, if he gives you a necklace just know he will put it on for you - and if you feel him touch you anywhere on your neck, I bet you would shiver~

When you get to the restaurant, just know that you and Nanami are dressed to the nines - like damn, don’t you both look good?

Candlelit dinner, glasses of red wine, delicious food and a handsome man right in front of you, what more do you want?

When it comes to the end of your dinner, he would have already asked the restaurant for the cake and they will hand it to you with the silver globe and everything - most likely a sweet chocolate cake with strawberries.

When you get home, Nanami will be somewhat more affectionate and will give you a few deep breathless kisses here and there while cuddling you when you and him are on the couch/sofa - you on his lap of course

When though you both went out it’s nice to be at home with just you and him leading to a deep conversation about the future, a family, vacation, wedding and many other things.

Overall, your birthday with Nanami with is soothing and calm, there is a hint of suggestiveness due to the setting but in reason, he wants you to be the main focus since it is the anniversary of the day you were born and he can’t but appreciate you.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[dirt-cup-draco]

Sirius x Reader - More To You (2/2)

tag list: @spacegirlhere @treestarrrrrrrr @slytherpuffgal @scaredofvscogirls @jenniseiblack

Previously:

It wasn’t often he felt guilt for what he did but right now he couldn’t have felt worse. He really didn’t know you. He hadn’t even tried. Because he was angry at his family and the world he had taken it out on you without a second thought. “I’m sorry,” He said lamely as you headed off to the library. He was positive you heard him but you just sighed and shook your head. He knew that wouldn’t be enough.

Sirius realized he should stop burning bridges before he had the chance to cross them. There was much more to you than he realized and now he was sure you would never forgive him.

If someone had told Sirius Black even five years ago that he would be stood before Barty Crouch Senior and convicted of thirteen counts of murder as well as giving away the hidden location of his best friend, his brother, he would have laughed in your face. Now, he was just numbly staring around as he let the members of the Wizengamot talk over him. 

He wasn’t present, not really. He still couldn’t believe James and Lily were gone. And Harry, oh poor Harry. Sirius should be with his godson right now. He should be raising and loving that boy like James would have wanted. A tear escaped out of his dull eyes as the men and women clamored over evidence and motive and all this terribly bullshit that made no sense. James was his family, Lily was the light of the world that was better with her and James in it. 

Now his family was torn apart. He hadn’t heard from Peter in ages and Remus didn’t believe his innocence. It hurt, the people he had grown up loving the most, and still loving unconditionally, couldn’t see he would never hurt them. It was the grief, he hoped. Maybe before Sirius rotted in Azkaban Remus could forgive him for not doing a better job to protect them. 

He was snapped out of his nightmarish reverie by a voice floating above the rest. “I don’t think we are considering all the possibilities here! It doesn’t make sense as to what Sirius Black would gain from giving up the Potters,” 

Eyes traveled to you and you took a steady breath as he stared at you with wide eyes. He hadn’t even realized you were part of the Wizengamot. He hadn’t seen you since school when you had declared that you wouldnt, couldnt, forgive him for his cruel behaviors against you. Why were you defending him?

“It figures that the Slytherin sticks her neck out for this monster,” Muttered a council member. You looked at them with a cool fury in your eyes what was drawing Sirius in like a moth to a flame. 

“My house is not relevant in this court room. It is a foolish way to judge students without knowing all of their circumstances and beliefs. Please do not presume to know me because of my house,” You were boiling beneath the surface but still had a dangerous calm about you. “And I think we are also presuming too many things about Black. We hear his family name and think he must have done it, we don’t know that for certain,” You argued. 

Barty Crouch Senior’s cheeks turned red in fury as he gaped at you. “You are new but that does not excuse your complete dismissal of the signs that point straight to this man being the culprit! I ask for silence from you,” 

“But it’s too perfect! Every single sign points to him and that is the problem!” You tried, knowing your time was coming to an end. 

“I will not hear another word from you!” You were silenced. 

You stewed angrily in your seat but relented. You couldn’t forfeit your entire career on Sirius Black but you wished that you could convince the rest to see that they could possibly be convicting an innocent man. They weren’t even giving him a real trial!

“We declare Sirius Orion Black guilty of all charges and hereby sentenced to life in Azkaban,”

Every prisoner in Azkaban was there for life. It was just a matter of how long they held on. 

You looked at Sirius as he accepted his fate. The fire was gone and he took punishment for the death of his friends and several others. Guilt swam in his eyes, drowning him. You recognized the look in him. It was close to the guilt he had shown when he had apologized to you years ago. You let your eyes linger on him. 

You had to remember this man before Azkaban hollowed him out and ultimately killed him. “I’m sorry,” You mouthed to him as he returned your gaze, possibly wanting to see a friendly face for the last time in his soon to be miserable existence. 

All he could manage was a tired smile. He was disconnected from reality but you understood. It was better to let life happen around you than face the hell you were in. 

--

Sirius stood outside your door. The moon was high in the sky and every noise had him looking around nervously. He barked, pawing at the door. He knew it was a long shot but he was praying you would open up. They would be looking for him and he was safe in his animagus form but he couldn’t sleep another night on the cold ground. He had to get to someone who would believe he wasn’t a danger. 

“Merlin’s beard,” He heard you mutter as you stomped down the stairs, flinging the door open. “Come on then,” You opened the door wider as you stared blearily at him. It seemed in your tired state that it took you an extra few seconds to realize who you were opening the door to. It was no secret to you that Sirius and his pals were unregistered animagi. A black dog could only chase you around the grounds so many times before you got suspicious. 

You looked closer, fumbling for the glasses you had hung on the collar of your shirt. “Oh gods,” You paled.Sirius wagged his tail and trotted in. You closed and locked the door, drawing the blinds closed and falling heavy into the nearest seat. “How?” You croaked. 

In but a blink of an eye Sirius was standing in front of you, hair tangled and matted. An unseemly scruff had found it’s way on to his face as he grinned a sinister grin. He was so far from the handsome boy he’d been in school. How long had it been? Twelve years. You realized, stomach churning. You had stopped trying  a handful of years ago and it had always been your biggest regret and source of guilt.

“Slipped through the bars when those ghoulish bastards brought me that shit they call food,” He snarled. His prison uniform hung off his skeletal frame.  You hardly knew what to do but realized Sirius was in need of well, everything. Food water, clothes. He was a miserable sight. 

You sprang up, dashing into the kitchen. “How do you take your tea?” You asked and Sirius let himself smile even if it was tight. They had taken so much from him over the past twelve years he didn’t know how to function so soon after.

“I’ll take anything,” He said honestly as you set a mug in front of him as well as some toast. 

“Y-you can have more if you finish,” You said, awkwardly. “I just figured you don’t want an upset stomach,” How strange it was to see you like this, hair messy from sleep and in a simple sleeping gown that he wouldn’t have thought a person like you would wear. He had been wrong years ago so he wasn’t surprised to find you were far different than he expected.

“Thank you,” He said after he had devoured everything in front of him. You had tried not to stare as he had wolfed it down, as if he was scared it would be taken from him. Sirius wiped the crumbs from his mouth and looked at you.

You were prettier than he remembered. “Thank you for the food,” He clarified, “but also for what you tried to do all those years ago. You were the only one on my side and it seems you still are,” 

“Please dont thank me,” You winced as a heavy weight fell on your shoulders. “I gave up on you far too soon, after three years it seemed every mention of you was gone and then after five I started to wonder if you were still alive. My budget was tight and I couldn’t afford to continue trying to free you,” You buried your face in your hands. 

Sirius hadn’t been expecting that. His lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist, tugging at it until you looked at him. He intertwined his fingers with you. Oh how good it felt to be near someone. “I will still thank you, I’ve given you every reason to doubt me and when it truly mattered the most you were the only one who had faith in me,” 

You let out a sad chuckle. “You’re an idiot, Black, not a monster,” You teased. 

Sirius meant to laugh, he meant to jest back. Instead he found himself giving into deep sobs that wracked his entire body and made his chest feel tight. He fell forward, head falling against your chest as you rested a shaky hand in his hair, another hand patting his back as you let him cry. After being dehumanized Sirius needed to feel again and know what it was to be free to do so. 

When his tears subsided you picked up a rather scary looking knot of hair. “I think you need a shower,” 

Sirius snorted and nuzzled his face against your chest as he wiped at his eyes. Moving but not distancing himself he rested his forehead against yours in a show of appreciation. You were the rock he never expected to have in this time. It was strange and foreign but you were both leaning on each other in a way that had seemed impossible once. 

Looking at Sirius Black you felt your heart ache with something akin to warmth. He was a shell of the man he used to be but in a way he was a better man, worn down by the world but still kind, maybe even kinder than he was before tragedy shredded his life. 

“I’m sorry but it had to be you I came to see,” He spoke as you washed his dish absentmindedly, thinking of how you’d get the guest bedroom ready for him as he took a shower. You didn’t want to be mean but the man smelled like death. 

“I’m glad you came,” You spoke and realized the words were completely honest. “Stay as long as you need, you are safe here,” 

When Sirius nodded and walked by you, following your directions to your bathroom, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and your draw nearly dropped. Who would have thought you’d see the day where Sirius Black wanted to be near you for a reason other than tormenting you. 

He didn’t look back as he walked to your bathroom but he felt his heart begin to beat again. The world was a different place now but just as dangerous as it had been twelve years ago. Despite that fact he let himself relax as he stood underneath the scalding water. 

Sirius Black washed himself clean from all the grime and misery of the past and let himself become a man with a soul again. In your home he could free himself of the past. You were the start of a future where he could be free, or at least he was hoping. 

Besides all the time he had spent figuring out who could have framed him he had allowed himself to reflect on all the missed chances he’d had. You were his biggest regret. You had deserved a respect he had never once shown you and now he would make up for it. 

In his time away, it was easy to say you had been a happy memory he had clung to. You didn’t have specific memories together but the memory of you standing strong to defend him had resonated with him and had his mind stuck on what memories the two of you could have possibly made if he had learned not to hate as a child. There had always been more to you.

If he played his cards right and got the revenge he craved, the justice for his best friend, maybe he could hope to learn all the things that made you tick. 

Without even knowing it you had given Sirius a reason to come back from the depths of hell and have a purpose after he caught Peter and made him pay. 

[mattzerella-sticks]

Caught in His Webb, a speculative fanfic about what we hope have learned about season 15, episode 8

When Sam met one of Dean's old hunting buddies - made during his time at Stanford - he didn't know what to expect.

When said hunting buddy leaves, after finishing a hunt, and says goodbye with a chaste kiss - he doesn't know what to think.

Can Sam get Dean to talk about his feelings? And will airing everything to dry help Dean understand and come to terms with more than what happened after the hunt?

Sam watches Leo’s truck drive off, waiting until the cherry red Ford disappears around the corner before turning to Dean. His brother putters around the motel packing. Face hidden but flushed neck still burning minutes after Leo left. He isn’t surprised Dean bounces off the walls, especially with the explosive farwell Leo dropped on their laps.

“ Maybe in another lifetime… we could’ve had something good. ”

A cheek kiss isn’t the most suggestive gesture, except the only time Dean’s seen a man’s lips close in on his brother’s face was in the heat of battle. Creatures snarling as they fight against whatever shield or restraint that blocks them from tearing into his brother’s face. Nothing as soft, innocent, or intimate as a featherlight press against stubble.

“Dean -”

“We better get a move on Sammy,” Dean cuts him off, zipping up his duffel, “if we leave now we can probably skip an extra night on the road.”

Sam frowns, brows pinching tighter than a rubber band. “Dean… we need to talk.”

Dean’s hands pause from where they rest on the handles. His shoulders stiffen, enough that Sam doesn’t need to see his face to know his dimples are on full display. “Talk about what?” he asks. Gruff, tone warning Sam that if he chooses to travel down this road it’ll be filled with bumps, potholes, and traffic.

Luckily he knows all of Dean’s shortcuts.

“Leo was a pretty swell guy,” he starts, leaning against the wall.

Dean, thrown off like Sam planned, finally sneaks a peek. A fog of wariness clouds his gaze, as expected. “Yeah,” he says, “Glad to see the years don’t really change a guy…”

“So he was like that when you knew him?”

“Not exactly,” Dean says, “Was a lot less responsible, then again he wasn’t in charge of a whole camp. Just volunteered there a few times a week. More so in the summer… once it felt like I didn’t see him for two weeks when I was in town ‘cause he was putting in extra hours. I always felt like the bad influence, telling him to take time for himself so me and him could…” The smile slowly blossoming on his face withers away in the next moment as Dean catches onto Sam’s ploy. “No.”

“Dean -”

“I said no, Sam.” he barks, ripping open his duffel once more, “I don’t want to talk about our history, don’t care how much you want to.”

“ Our ?”

“Our what ?”

“You said our,” Sam smirks, “As in your’s and his… meaning there is history.”

“So?” Dean asks, attempting to play cool even as his shaky fingers give him away, “you and I got a past. That’s our history. Don’t know why you have to say it like that ‘bout me and Leo.”

“Because our history isn’t… your’s and Leo’s history.”

Dean digs further into his bag, messing with the already perfect packing. Unfolding jeans and wrinkling shirts, tossing guns and blades like they were wadded balls of paper instead of weapons. Sam huffs, pushing off the wall and gliding towards his brother. He takes the plaid shirt from Dean’s hands - knuckles pale, freckles pronounced - and sets it to the side.

“C’mon, Sam,” he says, voice trembling, “we can’t waste any time…”

“Dean. Please .”

The plaintive notes Sam spoke jar with Dean, tipping him over the edge. He shoves Sam away and roars, “What do you want me to say, huh? What do you want from me!”

“I want you to tell me the truth,” Sam says, “I want you to know that whatever that is… I’ll accept it.”

Dean challenges Sam with a long bout of silence, unaware to the lengths of awkwardly charged silence he’s willing to suffer through. Showing nothing but honest affection, Sam waits for his brother to fold. He crumples like a napkin, fog turning to mist.

“Shit, Sammy,” Dean coughs, rubbing at his eyes, “Couldn’t you have pretended you didn’t notice?”

Sam shrugs, mouth stretched thin. “Pretty hard not to.”

When Dean pulls his hand away Sam at least won’t comment on the redness rimming his eyes. “Me and him had this thing, okay? Dad had gone off on his own when I stumbled across a haunting here in town… Leo was gonna be its next victim when I swooped in and ran the ghost in with my crowbar. And then when the ghost came after me he did the exact same thing…”

“I figured it’d be a one-and-done kind of deal. We salt and burn the bones and then we go off our separate ways except… Leo didn’t want to leave. If that bastard is one thing it’s kind… saw hunting as another way he could give back. Tried to talk him out of it, tell him that it wasn’t the glamorous job he was thinking but… he was stubborn. And I guess I was lonely.”

Sam nods. “You and him hunted together?”

“Whenever I was in Texas,” Dean continues, “I’d call him up and we’d handle a case here and there, then we’d drive back to his place and patch each other up. I taught him all I knew about hunting and… well, Leo opened my eyes to this whole other world I was missing out on, too.”

“Then it wasn’t…” Sam sifts for the right words, “A one time deal? Some kind of gay thing?”

He can see Dean weighing the options, hands swaying from side to side as he compares. Thankfully Dean chooses and shakes his head. “Definitely more than that. We never put labels on it or anything… with me on the road all the time I didn’t want him wasting away, waiting after me. Whenever we met up though… it was like the world didn’t exist. Of course, one day the pressure gives and it crashes back into you.”

“Dad hadn’t checked in in over a month, and not even Bobby or anyone else heard from him. All we had was…  Jericho, California.”

Sam tenses, reminded of ghastly women and burning ceilings. He thought he put that town far back in the rearview mirror, so much so it wasn’t even a speck. But as this year has proven, nothing can stay buried in the past for long. Like the aftereffects from that simple hunt years ago still shake the very foundations of his and Dean’s relationship. Swallowing around the stone in his throat, he asks, “When you came to get me?”

Dean hums, a tight-lipped smile fixed to his face. “I wasn’t planning on coming alone,” he admits, “I was with Leo, getting ready to hit the open road again when I… I guess I was feeling bold. Or maybe cocky… I don’t know. Something made me ask him if he thought about coming along, to help.”

Stunned, Sam unconsciously moves away from Dean. Wobbles with spinning vision, as if learning what could have been was enough to fell his oak-like stature. His mind races at the possibility of Dean showing up in his apartment with Leo in tow, both there to whisk him away to find John. How different the road so far would be. The worst possibility Sam imagines sends shivers racing up his spine. Where the max occupancy remains two, except it’s Leo taking the shotgun seat instead of Sam. Sam washes his hands of any responsibility for John and sends Dean off with a half-hearted goodbye. An apocalyptic decision, he thinks, given the only reason the world’s been kicking for so long is because of them and the friends they’ve gathered.

He clears his mind of the what-ifs, reminding himself that they don’t matter since he and Dean went to Jericho, alone. They didn’t find their father but they finished his mission. He lost Jess… but he found his brother.

Sam focuses on the present and his brother’s uninterrupted rambling. “...a mess, though. Like, what if dad was in Jericho? Leo wasn’t ashamed of who he was… dad would’ve known in a heartbeat what was going on between us. Doesn’t matter now, though, since Leo said no.”

“Why did he?”

“Texas was one thing,” Dean smirks, gazing at a point beyond Sam, “California was another. Thought that by me asking for him to come with I was really asking for him to leave his old life behind which… in a way I was. When you’re a hunter, it's really hard to live half-in, half-out. Leo couldn’t cut the ties.”

“And what did you do?”

“What could I do?” he chuckles, “Tell him he was making a mistake? You saw his life… loving husband, great kids… I couldn’t give that to him. I swallowed down the hurt and left early in the morning, before he could wake up. With a note saying that he should forget about the life… and about me . Then I ditched my phone and picked up a burner on the way to meet… you .”

Dean collapses onto the bed, uncaring to the mess he sits on. Gasping as he breathes for the first time without all that weight crushing his chest. Sam, at a loss for what to do, blindly reaches for his brother and squeezes his shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me all this, Dean,” Sam says, “I… I should’ve realized how close he was to you.”

The past few days make sense, the final piece fitting and highlighting the full picture. Dean’s awkwardness whenever they met up with Leo. His arms hung awkwardly at his side, no idea what to do with themselves. Over aware of their surroundings at all times, budgeting every word and movement like they were in short supply. Whenever Leo mentioned his family he jumped worse than a rabbit. How curt Dean became whenever Sam asked how he and Leo came to meet, offering only one or two words in explanation. Usually ‘no comment’. He figured there was hurt Dean kept hidden, but wouldn’t have guessed the cracks were in his heart .

Dean snorts, running his wrist up his face. “No, you shouldn’t’ve. Leo was my first and last . With him it felt like whatever anyone else thought didn’t matter, and when he was gone I… I locked the closet door behind me.”

Sam doubts that. With the floodgates open, memories pour into his awareness of times that Dean flexed the other half of his sexuality. How his eyes followed a mark a little too closely sometimes in the bar, leaning into them and blaming it on acting ‘drunk’. The snarky compliment here and there, masking the actual appreciation. Every time he deflected violently or made fun of Sam’s preferences weren’t the crumblings of Dean’s fragile masculinity. It was a scared boy, afraid that his younger brother was about to discover something he didn’t want getting out.

“Not even once?” he asks, “You know I wouldn’t have cared… right?”

His brother shrugs. “Yeah I knew. There were times I thought maybe I… could’ve said something. All those near-death experiences… and the actualdeaths… I was never able to break through those walls though. Every opportunity was shadowed by the fear of dad finding out… even when it wasn’t possible. I’d lose all ability to talk and I… I’d freeze up like a deer in headlights. Kept me from saying a lot… doing a lot… being - being with…” Dean tucks his hands under his armpits, curling around himself.

The sudden pause draws Sam’s curiosity in, his mind leaping ten steps ahead to finish his brother’s thought. He tries to do so, attaching every possibility he can consider. ‘Being comfortable with himself’ isn’t a wild guess, but it makes no sense seeing how Dean was already this vulnerable with Sam. ‘Being with Leo’ tracked, given the lingering thread hanging between them. But he doubts Leo would trade the life he made for himself here, nor would Dean give up his life. He said before how proud he was of the journey they’ve traveled - all the people they helped and the wrongs they’ve righted - and Sam doesn’t doubt the conviction threading through those words.

Although he does consider what life Dean and Leo could have made together. Would Dean continue hunting every month, slowly weaning himself into retirement. If Leo was in Dean’s life could he have prevented some of the crazier things that have happened. His influence a calming force in their Winchester whirlwind?

Maybe with Leo Dean’s chance at normalcy would have succeeded? Waking up every morning with a pair of blue eyes to greet the morning.

It hits him like a lightning bolt.

“Dean,” Sam starts, “do you… you’ve felt this way about somebody else, right? Who wasn’t Leo.”

Dean rocks on the bed, unwilling to answer.

“Dean,” he whispers, “do you love Cas -”

“That’s enough!” He jumps forward, throwing Sam’s hand off of him. “We’re done with all this… touchy-feely crap. My skin’s starting to crawl…” he mutters, picking up the stuff he scattered with a fury. “You know I like guys, big whoop. That’s the only emotional doozy I’m sitting on so let’s get the show on the road, okay?”

Sam cannot turn away. They’ve made it this far, he needs to see this through. “You love him.”

“Sam, he’s our friend. He’s like a brother -”

“And you love him -”

“I did!” Dean shouts, rounding on Sam, “I did love him. Did . Past tense… over and done. Meaning we don’t have to dive back into this bullshit. I felt it, I lived it… and I’ve gotten over it. Stacked it on a pyre and burnt the shit out of it. There’s nothing left to dissect but ashes, capisce?”

Given the grand display Sam finds it hard to believe. He stays silent though, the anger coursing through Dean’s gaze enough to char an iceberg. Sam retreats to his own bag. Cleaning in silence. A beat passes and Dean stomps to his duffle, shoving things inside.

They don’t speak to each other, and don’t need to.

Sam uses the time to reflect. On all the shared moments between his brother and the angel. Every charged exchange in the roller coaster of their relationship. From the highest peaks to the rocky lows. Remembers how friend and foe alike commented, reading more into what laid below the obvious surface. Again Sam figured they swung for low fruit in an attempt to rattle his brother. Actually they were striking closer to the heart.

The way Dean slammed Baby’s trunk reminds Sam of when Castiel died at Lucifer’s hands. When their friend’s grace dimmed, so did the light in Dean’s eyes. Returned only when he appeared in that alleyway. Dean’s face twitched, unable to smile. As if he forgot which muscles were used to lift the corners of his mouth. Or maybe was too scared that if he did Castiel would disappear in the next blink.

And therein lies the problem

“He’s as much in this as you are.”

Dean swerves, halfway out of the parking lot. Sam’s voice echoed in Baby’s cabin, the atmosphere too tense for any of Dean’s cassettes.

His brother squints at him, “What are you -”

“Cas,” Sam continues, “whatever logic you’ve used to convince yourself that he doesn’t love you back… it’s all wrong.”

Scowling, Dean completes the turn onto the main road. It takes one stop sign and two red lights for his brother to respond. “Who do you think you are, Mr. Know-It-All?”

“I think I’m the guy who’s had enough of his family falling apart and is yelling at the reason for it.”

“Me!” Dean shouts, “How is it my fault? Cas was the one who kept Jack’s soullessness under wraps. Who got mom killed -”

“Stow it, Dean.” Sam glares at his brother, shifting in his seat so Dean suffers the full force. “Cas isn’t the reason mom isn’t here. I know it, you know it - even mom knows it. What would she think if she knew you were acting like this to Cas?”

“But -”

“He thought he was doing what was right, and when he realized it wasn’t he apologized ,” Sam tells him, “You said you accepted it, but you still keep him at arm’s length. You barely speak to him unless it’s about a hunt. If it was really about mom, things would’ve gone back to normal but no - you’re afraid -”

“Maybe I have reason to be afraid, huh?” Dean snarls, clenching the steering wheel, “With Chuck abandoning us - for good - we have one shot. No more do-overs, no more hidden fixes. No kid to come by and shove another quarter into our slot, taking us into another level - none of it! And when things are on the upswing for us… that’s when the boot’s waiting to smush us. I can’t handle watching Cas die, again, Sam. The bastard’s more stubborn than you and I… he’ll go out in a blaze of glory before either of us. Where will I be then, huh? Mourning him all over? Wanting to die, again? Why shouldn’t I numb myself to that pain?”

Sam’s anger softens as Dean finally reveals the source of his problems. Worry lines add texture to Dean’s face, aging him severely. “So we have one shot,” Sam says, “now we’re no more special than anyone else. Good. You know how terrible it is being brought back again and again, Dean? Thinking you’ve found peace only to be shoved onto one last ride? With Chuck gone, it won’t be like that again. Finally we can choose how we end it.”

“Everyone ends up leaving me, Sam,” Dean whispers, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “Cas always gets taken from me, just when I think I have him.”

“ Chuck took him away,” he tells Dean, “Chuck was the one who did that. To make you suffer for… character development . Like he did with Jess, and Eileen… Bobby, Rufus, Ellen and Jo, Charlie… dad and mom . We’re off the page now… it’s our life to live.”

“And die,” Dean says, staring into the open road as they leave the small Texas town, “Would it be more or less cruel if we die because of chance? If Cas gets unlucky during one fight?”

“Then wouldn’t it be worse to have loved him and not told him?” Sam asks, “Some of my biggest regrets are never telling Jess I loved her one last time… or asking Eileen to dinner… we need to make each second count this time around. So stop pushing us away and allow yourself to feel. It makes what little life we got left last longer.”

Sam, saying all he has to, faces the passenger window and waits. The flatlands go on for miles, blurring because of the speed Dean drives. They passed cattle and horse ranches, Dean not slowing down for either of them. He weaves through the traffic, a reactive driver even while stewing.

Overhead the sun dips, orange bleeding into the blue sky. They’re halfway through Oklahoma when Dean clears his throat.

“I love you, too, y’know,” he says, “Figured… if I’m gonna be saying it to Cas. And… don’t really know how many of those we’ll have left.”

Sam mirrors the tiny smile on Dean’s face. “I love you… no homo .”

“Sam!”

“What?”

“Quit ruining the moment!”

“I just wanted to make it clear -”

“Oh like I’d ever get with you -”

“Some people want us, too. And you said you weren’t in love with Cas anymore…”

“I was trying to get you off my back -”

“Maybe I’ll see if Cas is interested in me? I think we’d be great together. We’ve been able to hang out a lot since you’ve been avoiding him.”

“You touch him and I’ll drive us both into a canyon. I’ll end it right here, right now.”

“You wouldn’t do that, you love Baby too much!”

“If we’re both dead who’s going to drive her? Better she goes out with me than stolen by some spaz who won’t treat her right!”

They bicker while the sun sets, and well into the night.

[pynkhues]

Prompts for Center and Circumference if you are..... I'd love to see Rio having a tea party with the girls and Beth getting a picture of him wearing a funny hat.

Not exactly a tea party, and not exactly a hat, but I hope you like it anyway, anon. :-) 

- 

“When do they come on?”

“Soon, pop,” Rio hums, shifting further back in his seat and glancing sideways at his son. He squints, rocks his jaw when he clocks Marcus’ heels hooked into the padded bottom of the chair, and shit, if that ain’t Jane all over. Rio makes a pointed noise in his throat, dragging Marcus’ attention back from the stage, down to his feet. He promptly drops his legs.

“We’ve been here for ages,” Danny whines on Marcus’ other side, and Rio’s basically inclined to agree. He had vague recollections of watchin’ his sisters at their own recitals thirty years ago, but it had nothing on this whole thing. Elizabeth had been stressin’ about it for weeks, and in here now – at some hired out little theater, it’s easier to see why. Ain’t exactly Radio City, but school halls ain’t got shit on it with its high stage and dark velvet curtains, bright, moving stage lights and thousand-chair audience. Not that the seats are full exactly, but it’s close, he’ll give ‘em that.

Then again, it is the girls’ dance school’s end of year revue.

It had been a big enough deal at home anyway – with double the amount of classes for the girls as usual – a fuckin’ scam if ever he’s heard one, because next thing Elizabeth’s fiddlin’ with their household budget and suspending her yoga classes until the end of the year to pay for it like they’ve got to count pennies (and shit, she’d been pissed when he’d called the club to unsuspend it, but he knows how long it’s taken her to find an instructor she likes, and he knows just how fast spots get snapped up there, and he ain’t havin’ her goin’ without for no damn reason. Not that she’d agreed with that either.

“The whole point of a household budget is to stick to it,” she’d insisted in bed that night, her freezing feet pushed between his calves for warmth. “We can’t just keep magicking up more money to pay for things.”

He’d scoffed, pulling her closer, until she was half draped across his chest, hand drifting down her back, canvassing the knobs of her spine before sliding over the swell of her ass.

“Do you even remember what trade we in, mami? Or you wanna go pick up some more wrappin’ paper with your girls for reference?”)

It hadn’t just been the extra classes though. If it was, maybe it would’ve been easier, but it was the fact that the parents were expected to make the costumes themselves – the dance school emailing out patterns and listing out fabric stores like they’re doin’ them a favour. Elizabeth being Elizabeth had gone and volunteered to make half the other girls’ in the class’ too, and shit, he feels like Halloween was yesterday (two months, but still) and now he’s pretty sure the electric whir of her sewing machine has become the soundtrack to his nightmares.

It had only gotten worse too when Emma had been promoted to head dancer for their class, something that had the kid alternately glowin’ like she’d swallowed a lightbulb and sobbin’ over her footwork not being good enough, which had only in turn gotten Elizabeth all in her head, stressin’ about this whole thing being perfect for Emma, despite Rio trying to tell her nothin’ good would come of protecting a kid from the reality of hard work and the rewards of it (like, fuck, she was already head dancer – if that wasn’t winning, he wasn’t sure what was).

Rio sighs, shifts back in his seat, resists the urge to rub at his forehead at what feels like the twentieth group of little girls in tutus skipping out onto the stage. Tinkling piano music starts up again (and he’s sure they’ve played this song before), when a dim light hits the corner of his eye. Rio twists in his seat, looking to his other side to find Kenny with his cell shoved up his shirt for cover, reading some bullshit on somethin’ or other, and Rio levels him with a look, holding out his hand. Kenny at least has the good sense to look bashful, pulling his phone out from his shirt and passing it over to Rio.

On stage, the dance wraps up, and a tall, thin woman with a head of tight black curls steps out onto the stage, still clapping as she approaches the microphone stand in the far corner of the stage.

“Wow, what a performance from our Bright Little Bees class! Now we’re moving from the backyard to the forest for our next performance with our Gumdrop Fairies!”

Marcus gasps at that, and all three of the boys sit up a little straighter, looking over the heads in front of them to get the best view of the stage, and Rio quickly passes Kenny back his phone, gesturing out to the aisle.

“Film it for your ma and your aunts and your abuela, yeah?”

Because shit, he’s already preparin’ himself for an earful from his mom for not inviting her (nothin’ personal – Emma had banned extended family, too up in her nerves), if she finds out he didn’t even tape the thing, he doesn’t think he’ll ever hear the end of it.

Kenny nods, pleased for a job, sliding out of his seat and into the aisle as the piano music starts again from the front of the theatre.

Rio’s only just had the time to turn around when a little girl dance-runs out onto the stage, a puff of white tulle and silver glitter, her hair bundled up on top of her head. She curtseys to the audience, and then behind her, another little girl does the same, and then the third is Jane, making Marcus and Danny burst into cheers beside him, and Rio grins too, watching her curtsey a little roughly to the audience, and he sits up taller, hoping she’ll be able to see them only - -

Rio frowns, because Jane spots him and Marcus and Danny, but averts her gaze, no toothy grin or proud little chin tilt to be seen. He narrows his eyes, watching as little girl after little girl dances out onto the stage, and then the fairy queen, only - -  

“That’s not Emma,” Danny says a little too loudly, making a bunch of the parents turn around to shush him, but Rio gives them all dark looks, making them quickly turn back, because that little blonde girl definitely ain’t Emma. He waits a minute, watching the stage as Marcus and Danny murmur confused beside him, and even Kenny’s looking back at him from the aisle, and finally he waves a hand at them.

“Stay and watch Jane, I’ll be back in a minute. Kenny’s in charge.”  

With that, he scoots out of the seats, glad Elizabeth had booked them closest to the aisle in case Rio had needed to take a call, before ducking out. He heads out the back doors and then around towards the backstage area where he’d seen Elizabeth briefly before the thing had started – every inch of her sparklin’ from where she’d been spraying glitter onto costumes and her hands a little bloody from pin pricks and needles.

Slipping through the door, he’s met with a mess of cheap, pop-star perfume and bouquets of wilting gas station flowers, tiny kids in tights and tutus rushing around, laughing, mothers shushing, a few running through steps, more just giggling as they pelt each other with powder puffs covered bright with pink blush. Glancing around the space, he spots the names of the group classes – following through from the Bright Little Bees to the Dancing Divas to the Princesses of Power and Rio’s rolling his eyes a little at the names before he finds the empty corner for the Gumdrop Fairies. He ducks over, briefly checking over the area before spotting Elizabeth’s bag, shoved into the corner beneath one of the little dressing tables. Crouching down to peak inside, he rolls his eyes when he finds both her cell and her wallet left in it because clearly she gets off on not listenin’ to him, and he grabs both, shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans before standing back up.

He glances across the room again, only to spot a dark-haired woman at the next class over eyeing him a little uncertainly. Rio rolls his shoulders back, gestures with a tilt of his head down to Elizabeth’s handbag.

“Yo, you see the woman and little girl who was here?”

The woman blinks, opens her mouth, her hands fluffin’ up a tutu, and her eyes drop down to his tattoo, but she firms up her step.

“I’ve seen a lot of women and little girls here,” she says carefully, and Rio huffs, tries to soften his expression.

“I’m lookin’ for my partner and her daughter. She’s supposed to be out on stage right now with her sister, but she ain’t. Just tryna figure out what’s goin’ on.”

The woman’s brow draws, her expression shifting cautiously as she looks like she’s trying to gauge intent in his expression, and she must see something she likes, because she smiles sympathetically at him, before glancing down at a little girl who can only be her own daughter, hoppin’ around in a lime green leotard.

“There’s always drama at these things, I swear,” she says with a huff, holding the tutu down to the ground for her daughter to step into. “What do they look like?”

“Kid’s cute, blue eyes like her mama. She’s brunette though – hair down to her ankles,” Rio says with a good natured huff, and at least that makes the woman laugh.

“Which one won’t let you get it cut?”

“Ain’t figured that out yet,” he replies easily, and the woman laughs all over again.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that narrows it down. Your girlfriend?”

“Hair blonde, a little red,” he gestures to just below his jaw. “’Bout this tall. Wearin’ a dress with flowers on it.”

A look of dawning surprise crosses her face.

“The one with the - - “

She gestures a bit to her chest, and then promptly looks embarrassed, but Rio just grins, dimples and all, huffs out a laugh.

“That’s the one,” he says easily, and the woman nods, pointing out across the room.

“Her daughter was really upset. Seemed like something happened with another girl. I think she might’ve taken her into the bathrooms.”

Rio nods, says a quick thanks, and darts off across the room. He sucks in a breath, knocks a little, and when nobody says anything, he slides right in, and shit, at least that answers that. The bathroom is completely empty except for Elizabeth and Emma, who are sitting on the tiles, Emma red faced, clutching her flower crown, and sobbing at Elizabeth’s feet, her hair out of it’s sprayed-up bun, and Elizabeth, furiously combing it out. She glances up at Rio, and just - - something in his jaw sets on edge, because her expression is somethin’ between furious and grief-struck.

Striding over, he’s barely a foot away, when Elizabeth turns her gaze back down to Emma’s hair and he sees the tangled mess of it, held together with a bright, big glob of somethin’ pink and ugly. Elizabeth seems to sense he’s there in that way she does, seems to know what he’s lookin’ at too, because she sighs thickly.

“She put gum in her hair,” she says, her voice strained, and Rio frowns.  

“Who did?”

“Savannah Brinkly. That little - -” Elizabeth huffs out another breath, cutting herself off, scowling. “She’s the girl who’s out there now dancing Emma’s part.”

The words only serve to make Emma sob all the louder, and shit, Elizabeth’s face just falls apart. He leans in a little closer, drops a hand to her neck, pressing just slightly, then harder when one of Elizabeth’s hands come up to squeeze his. After a moment, she looks up at him, glassy eyed and pink cheeked.

“Is Jane on stage?”

Rio hums in affirmation, and Elizabeth exhales a breath he don’t think she even realised she was holdin’ in.

“She was almost as upset as Emma.”

“Didn’t look happy up on that stage,” Rio agrees, crouching down on the floor beside Elizabeth, behind Emma. He watches Elizabeth work the comb a little longer, but her hands are shakin’, so he pries the comb from her fingers, replacing her grip on Emma’s hair with his own. He combs a bit, but it ain’t gonna take a salon to tell them this shit is just gonna have to be cut.

“She did it right as they were about to go on. Just shoved her hand right into Emma’s hair. I’d seen her chewing gum all night, and I knew she was jealous of Emma getting the part – she’s the same girl who pushed her during class last week, remember Emma’s grazed hands? I should’ve done something.”

“What could you have done?” Rio asks her, lowering his voice, but he don’t think Emma’s listenin’. Too wrapped up in her own tears. “Can’t protect her from jealous bitches, ma.”

Beside him, he can feel Elizabeth stiffen, can feel her sigh.

“She worked so hard,” Elizabeth whispers, her voice thick. She shakes her head, and Rio glances sideways at her, his jaw rocking. He looks down at her hands – marked up from cutting through tulle and pinning fabric and weeks of work and energy and it’s strange – the feeling it tightens in his gut. He opens his mouth to reply, only for the bathroom door to spring open and another woman to run through, urgency thick in her tone.

“Beth, we need you out there right now.”

Swivelling beside him, Elizabeth blinks wildly over at the other woman, and Rio follows her gaze.

“What? Why?”

“Jane’s just, like, thrown herself at Savannah on stage.”

“Oh, god,” Elizabeth groans, and Rio passes the comb back to her.

“I’ll handle it,” he tells her, but Elizabeth shakes her head, getting up to her feet beside him.

“No, stay with Emma.”

And just like that, she’s following the other woman out, the door swinging shut behind them, taking all the noise of the theatre with them. Rio sighs, sitting back on his haunches, watching Emma’s glittery shoulders shake in front of him. After a moment, he just sighs.

“’Ey, enough of that now,” he says gently, turning Emma around, and she avoids it – tries to at least, tries to cement herself to the floor like she weighs anythin’ upwards of fifty pounds, but still. Rio moves her as gently as he can. “She worth all this?”

Emma shakes her head, but her bottom lip is still wobbling.

“No,” Emma says. “But this was supposed to be special.”

Rio hums, rubbing a few tears off her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“This ain’t special? Can’t say I spent a dance recital in a bathroom before.”

And shit – it would’ve made Marcus laugh, but Emma just bursts into tears again.

“Ain’t sayin’ that’s a bad thing,” Rio says quickly, but Emma’s little hands are growing white knuckled around her flower crown, and Rio just sighs. “What she did ain’t right, and I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m sorry you missed your show, sorry we gonna have to cut your hair too.”

Emma sucks in a wet breath, but he thinks she might be all cried out, if the look on her tired little face is anything to go by.

“I don’t know why she was so mean, I’m never mean.”

“Nah, you ain’t,” and shit, Rio thinks, he wishes she was sometimes. He doesn’t think he’s ever known someone who smells the roses as much as this kid, and it still surprises him – how much he wants to protect it.

Protect her.

And - - not just her, he thinks, the picture of Elizabeth’s glassy eyes and sagging shoulders and scratched up hands taking up too much room in his head. He huffs, annoyed at himself before he can help it.

That woman’s fuckin’ wrecked him.  

Emma hiccups again in front of him, and Rio’s gaze drops to her face, to her hands, to the white and pink flowers in her flower crown, and he sighs all over again.

“This sorta thing, it ain’t really about you,” he tells her gently. “It’s about her, and it’s about what you have and what she don’t, and it ain’t on you to make her feel better about that.”

Emma looks up at him again, her face red and all her little dancer’s make-up practically leaking off her face, and Rio watches her hands tighter, her grip white knuckled to match the flowers, and she starts to say something, hiccupping all the while, when the bathroom door bursts open again, and Rio looks up, expectin’ Elizabeth, only - -

He laughs.

“Damn, darlin’, look at you.”

Because it’s Jane standing furiously in the doorway, her little face twisted up and her tutu ripped enough to hang off the back of her dress like a tail. She stalks over to them, dropping heavily down to the floor beside Emma, facing Rio, and he lets go of the comb to knock her up by the chin. There’s the start of a killer shiner reddening around her eye, and Rio’s brow furrows.

“Savannah do this?”

“I got her better,” Jane says sharply, tilting her chin up proudly like she hadn’t had it in her to do on stage, and Rio grins.

Say shit get hit, he thinks, amused, dropping her chin and turning his attention back to Emma’s hair.

“Where’s your mama at?”

“She’s talking to the teacher and Savannah’s mommy,” Jane says. “They’re yelling a lot. Mommy told me to come in here with you.”

Rio hums, trying to comb out Emma’s hair again, but giving up after a couple of brushes. Ain’t nothin’ but a pair of scissors left for it.

“Are we gonna have to cut it?” Emma whispers, her voice soft, and Rio nods.

“Yeah, darlin’. Your mama will do it when we get home, yeah?”

She exhales a wet breath, the sound coarse in the otherwise quiet of the bathroom, and Rio rocks his head from side-to-side, considering.

“Guess you’re a regular princess now, huh?”

And that’s enough to get both their attention, their twin sets of blue eyes blinking bright up at him, and Rio hums thoughtfully.

“Rapunzel had to cut her hair at the end of the movie too, didn’t she?”

Because shit, he’s watched it enough with the two of them now he thinks he could recite the thing – had to almost kill a guy at a drop because he’d clocked Rio humming that dumb I’ve Got a Dream song. It’s an ear worm, that’s all, burrows in your head.

“She lost her magic though,” Emma says, and Rio shrugs.

“Yeah, coz she didn’t need it no more. And you don’t need it neither – you got somethin’ better. You got skills and smarts, and you got bruiser over here to knock down anyone on the playground who says otherwise.”

Jane practically glows at that, holding up her little bruised fist, and shit, Rio thinks with a grin, she really knocked that kid out. He fistbumps her, before looking back over at Emma, turning over the flower crown in her hands. He knocks it a little with his hand, and Emma looks up at him.

“Do you think mommy can cut my hair to make it look like Rapunzel’s at the end of the movie?”

“Don’t think there’s a lot your ma can’t do, baby.”

Emma grins, dropping her gaze back down and they sit in silence for a minute, like she’s considering it, and Rio glances over at the door, wondering if he can get her out of here. He feels like it’s time to clear out – to get the girls home and happy and out of this fuckin’ place. Emma swipes briefly at her face, getting rid of a few of the shed tears, and Rio rocks back a little on his haunches.

“So what���d you wanna do?”

The words are enough to make Emma look back up at him again, and then back down at the flower crown in her hands, and Rio follows her gaze.

“Want me to get rid of that for you?”

She shakes her head, glancing back up at him, and then, after a beat, she climbs up onto her knees, lifts up the flower crown and drops it ceremoniously on his head. The action is enough to send the girls into flights of giggles, and Rio pops an eyebrow at them, playing up his shock and outrage.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?”

The girls just laugh louder, and Rio opens his mouth to reply, only to see a quick flash of light, and his head jerks around to see Elizabeth in the doorway, her cell in the air, pointed right at him, and Rio gives her an unimpressed look as she looks innocently back at him.

“Okay,” Rio says shortly, pulling off the flower crown and standing up. “Pack up your things, let’s get outta here.”

Leaping to their feet, the girls scurry out of the bathroom to collect their bags, and Rio strides easily over to Elizabeth, looking at her bite her lip at him, play innocent even as he says:

“You’re deletin’ that.”

“I absolutely am not,” she says. “In fact, I’m going to get it printed and send it out with the company Christmas cards. Seasons greetings from the boss. An honourary gumdrop fairy.”

She laughs, the sound melodic, echoing up through the bathroom, and Rio can’t say he ain’t glad to hear it after tonight. Still, he steps in a little closer, enough their chests are almost touching, enough she has to crane her neck to look up at him, enough he can just about see down the neck of her dress. He rocks his jaw, and he can see that too – the slight look of trepidation in her eyes, like she ain’t quite sure how he’s gonna play this, and shit if he don’t love that he can still surprise her.    

“Everythin’ okay with the teacher?”

And that definitely wasn’t what she was expecting, but the second the surprise wears off, she’s sighing harshly, dropping her arm and tilting her head to the side.

“No. I mean, yes, it’ll be fine, but they’re acting like Jane’s the one who did something wrong when none of it would’ve happened if Savannah hadn’t had it out for Emma.”

“Sounds like Jane still knocked the kids lights out,” Rio says with a shrug, watching Elizabeth’s chest rise and fall beneath the neckline of her dress, when Elizabeth suddenly cringes.

“And a tooth.”

And well – shit. Rio barks on a laugh at that, and then Elizabeth starts too, a little hiccupping giggle that makes him inch closer.

“I mean, it was a baby tooth! With the way Savannah’s mom was talking about it, you’d think she’d fractured her skull or something.”

Outside, Rio can hear Kenny’s voice now, and Danny, and then Marcus too (with awe in his tone, no doubt at Jane’s display, and shit, Rio thinks, it’s not like he don’t love the kids, but Jane’s trouble with a capital T). He can hear the bustle of the performers and a few mommas yelling about somethin’ or other, and there’s a whole rest of the night to get to, but still. He presses a little closer into Elizabeth.

“Tonight was a disaster,” she says, groaning. “And everyone’s gonna know.”

“Yeah,” Rio agrees, because the thought of his sisters finding out doesn’t particularly appeal to him neither, but it is what it is. He lifts his hand up holding the flower crown and pushes it down onto Beth’s head, watching the white petals fall down into Elizabeth’s curls, and he doesn’t move his hands from it when she looks up at him, her blue eyes bright as anythin’, and she looks somewhere between suspicious and entranced, which is really just the way he fuckin’ likes her, he thinks, grinning as he uses the crown to bracket her head and pull her up for a kiss.

“You’re deletin’ that photo,” he says against her mouth, feeling her breasts press soft against his chest.

“Never.”

Arching an eyebrow down at her, he bites her lip, just a little sharply, just until he feels her shiver.

“I got methods, mami.”

And Elizabeth just scoffs, and well, if that ain’t a challenge, he don’t know what is.

[furiousgalaxyfun-blog]

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[pokesception]

Pokemon Home is a Team Rocket scheme to steal your pokemon and lease them back to you.

Up front I want to be clear, this is not to hate on Pokemon Sword and Shield in and of themselves. As stand alone pokemon games they look good, great even, and if you're looking forward to them with eager anticipation, that's great too. But for me, the feeling is more dread and dismay, and the reason why is Pokemon Home.

There are lots of ways to love and things to love about the Pokemon games. From solo adventures to trading with friends to competitive battles online, there's something for almost anyone, but from the very beginning one of the core appeals of pokemon has been collecting. It's right there in the theme song: "Gotta catch 'em all." While some pokemon fans just play each game in turn, many lovingly cultivate a menagerie of pocket monsters from game to game catching and naming and training them all.

From that completionist's perspective, a key feature of Pokemon as a franchise, the thing that elevates it above all the other monster collecting games that have followed in its wake, is that you never need to leave that collection behind. For years you've been able to take your pokemon with you, watching your collection grow from game to game and generation to generation. You could feel free to spend hours naming and training and growing attached to each little packet of bits and bytes, confident they'd still be with you years and games down the line.

That continues with generation 8, but there's been a fundamental change. For the first time since generation 3, you can't bring all your pokemon into the new games. Instead they're supposed to live in "Pokemon Home," a cloud based paid subscription service, from which only a curated selection of pokemon will be available in any individual main series game going forward.

Pokemon Home is a trap. Once you transfer your pokemon to Pokemon Home, on a fundamental level they simply aren't yours anymore. That's that’s the Pokemon Company's collection now, and they’ll get to decide which you get to play with, when and how you access them, and most importantly how much you'll have to pay them for the privilege.

If they only want to charge you only a small nominal price for the first year? That's great. But maybe next year they decide they want a few more bucks a month. Or a few dozen. What are you gonna do? They already have your pokemon. If you want access to them, you'll have to pony up. Worse still, if you miss too many payments you’ll be risking a one way trip to the pokeglue factory for all the pokepals you've gathered over the last decade or so.

"Stop being an alarmist," you might be thinking. "Pokemon Home is just an updated version of Pokemon Bank, and Pokemon Bank never had exploitative pricing." And you’d be right.  Heck, I myself loved Pokemon Bank and have happily taken advantage of the convenience it offered, considering it well worth the price.  But this is where Sword & Shield (and, according to dev interviews, all main line Pokemon games going forward) not supporting all past Pokemon makes all the difference.

In the 3DS era, the new Pokemon games always supported all pokemon up to that point. If the Pokemon Company ever did hike the price of Pokemon Bank to something unreasonable, you could always just transfer your pokemon to the latest games & stop using the bank entirely. With Pokemon home, you can't do that. Once your collection is transferred to Pokemon Home, at least some portion of it will always be stuck in the cloud. You will never be able to take it all back. You'll have to keep paying those fees in perpetuity, however high they become, or say goodbye forever to at least some portion of your pokemon.

And while the price for Pokemon Home isn’t yet confirmed, you can already see the groundwork being laid for a significantly higher fee than Pokemon Bank. After all, it doesn’t just transfer pokemon between games, it also lets you trade pokemon online via GTS and Wonder Trade. With that increased functionality, of course we should expect an increased price.  It’s only fair, right? Never you mind that GTS and Wonder Trade used to be just part of the game in previous generations, no additional charges needed. And whatever the fee turns out to be, it will be on top of having to pay for Nintendo's internet service to even access Pokemon Home from your Switch to begin with.

Just because Gamefreak *could* exploit the heck out of this new system doesn’t mean they definitely will, but if there's one thing we all should have learned in recent years, it's that corporations, even the ones that make the things we love, are not our friends. You give them an inch and 9 times out of 10 they will take the proverbial mile. Their shareholders will insist on it.  Nowhere is this more true than in the realm of AAA video games, where the industry has stumbled from pre-order bonuses to micro transactions to loot boxes, gorging at each table in turn like a ravenous snorlax.

In the past, the Pokemon franchise always seemed to be above stooping to such indignities.  After all, between cartoons and films and merchandise, they never needed to, and turning the games into exploitative cash grabs ran a risk of tainting the brand.  Why take that risk over a few petty portable games when the big bucks were in children’s card games anyway?  Then Pokemon Go proved that the pokemon fandom was more than willing to put up with a little “nickle and dime”ing if meant more pokemon in our lives.  With Pokemon Home I fear we’re about to pay the price for that Giratinian bargain. 

Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe Pokemon Home isn't just a cynical corporate ploy to turn Pokemon from a series of fun games into a (shudder) "live service".  But even if Pokemon Home wasn’t deliberately designed to take your pokemon hostage, that’s still in effect what it’s doing by letting you transfer some pokemon in but not back out.  And even if Pokemon Co. never charges more for Home than they did for Bank, that still doesn't mean your pokemon are safe there. Budgets are tight and there are more and more bills and subscriptions eating away at our wallets with each passing day. Who's to say that even an extra $5 a year might be too much for pokemon at some point? If that point ever comes for you, that’s still just too bad for whatever pokemon you have on Home that can't be transferred to whatever games are currently supported.

Again, this is not to bag on Pokemon Sword and Shield. So far they look like fine stand alone Pokemon games. The wild area is a bold step forward, raid battles sound fun, I love all the new pokemon we've seen so far.  And after the recent Godzilla movie I'm super hyped for some kaiju sized dynamax pokemon battles. I mean, that's been a dream since the giant tentacruel in the first season opening of the anime! The development team for Pokemon Sword and Shield are clearly talented and committed people who care deeply about the pokemon franchise and its fans, and have worked very hard to bring us the very best games they could - or at least the best games that their corporate bosses would allow them to make.

No, the problem here isn't Pokemon Sword and Shield, it's Pokemon Home - the control it gives the Pokemon Company over our collections, the daggers it hangs over the heads of our pokemon, the syphons in sticks into our wallets.

So if you're still looking forward to Sword and Shield, by all means, buy them! Play them! Enjoy them!  But DO NOT BUY Pokemon Home. Do not transfer your collection to it. Not until Gamefreak changes their tune and recommits to supporting all pokemon in these and all future main line pokemon games, so that Pokemon Home can never be used to take your pokemon hostage.

Until then, Pokemon Home simply isn't a safe home for your pokemon.

And for Arceus's sake, those who have been making a stink about this, keep it up. Don't actually harass the developers, don't threaten anyone, don't attack fellow fans who don't see the problem.  But keep the pressure up on Gamefreak and Nintendo and the Pokemon Company and, heck, maybe thrown some shade in Warner Bros. direction. As we've seen with online friend play in Mario Maker 2, sometimes the squeaky wheel really does get the grease.

It’s likely too late to fix this before relase, but Gamefreak can patch the needed functionality in at any point after launch.  We don't have forever, though, there is a ticking clock. Pokemon Bank still probably has a couple years of life left before it's put out to pasture, along with online support for the 3DS era Pokemon games in general. There’s plenty of time before that for Gamefreak to change their minds, but if this problem isn’t fixed by then Pokemon fans will be faced with a painful choice - either hand our pokemon collections over to the Pokemon Company as hostages, or else leave them to fossilize in our gen 7 games, never to join us on future pokemon adventures again.

[chuffyfan87]

It Started With A Kiss. Part 13

"Ewart and Megan will be there. I don't need to go. I'd much rather stay here and keep you company." Charlie explained.

"Keep an eye on me more like!"

"Duffy..!" He sighed.

"This meeting is important Charlie, the future of the night shift depends on it. I wish I could be there myself but I can't so you have to go for both of us." Duffy reasoned.

"I don't like leaving you here on your own." He countered.

"I won't be on my own, I've got a visitor coming." Duffy replied, her voice light but Charlie noticed the look that briefly crossed her eyes.

"Oh I see, she's finally back from her holiday then?" He asked sarcastically.

"Charlie!"

"Its been three days Duffy!"

"It was a church funded coach trip. She was one of the organisers. She had no way of getting back sooner."

"Her only daughter gives birth five weeks early and she can't get back from the seaside? Really?" Charlie mocked.

"And you wonder why I don't want you here this afternoon?" Duffy shot back.

"You can't keep us apart forever Duffy, I'll have to meet her one day."

Duffy closed her eyes and sighed, one hand rising to massage her temple. "Not today though. Please!"

It took several minutes of further discussion but Charlie finally caved in and agreed to go to the meeting. Duffy was just finishing her lunch as she heard the door to her room open. She looked up and sighed, bracing herself for what was to come.

"I thought that place you worked in was a hell hole but it's practically the Ritz compared to this place!" Kate remarked as she cast her eyes around the small room. "So where is he then?"

"He's still in the spec..." Duffy began but her mum continued to speak over her.

"At least your father had the decency to wait til I'd gotten you home from the hospital before he left us!"

"Mum!" Duffy replied in shock as she realised that her mum meant Charlie. "There was an important work meeting he had to go to this afternoon. He'll be back later though." She attempted to explain calmly.

"Work? Well that's a new one on me, it's usually other women that are the cause." A thought struck her. "Or was that just a convenient excuse because he knew I was visiting this afternoon?"

"No! This meeting could get the night shift reopened. We've been working so hard for months to convince the trust that it's needed. I made him go along." Duffy explained, desperate for her mum to understand.

"The night shift? So Charlie is a doctor?" Kate questioned, her tone instantly changing.

Duffy rolled her eyes. "No he's a nurse." She sighed as she saw the look of disappointment that instantly washed over her mum's expression.

"Oh."

"He's a charge nurse so he earns decent money if that's what you're worried about." Duffy replied sarcastically.

"So Marge was right then."

"What?" Duffy questioned, utterly confused by the switch in direction.

"Her Trish was saying that you'd been secretly sleeping with your boss, despite the fact that he had a fiance, and that's how you got pregnant. I defended you! I said that my Lisa might not be the brightest but she's not stupid enough to allow herself to be taken advantage of like that!" Kate was too caught up in her rant to notice the sharp intake of breath nor the wild look that flashed across her daughter's eyes. "The things I've had to listen to people saying about our family! I have my reputation to think about! I want to have words with this Charlie, because the moment you are out of hospital the two of you are going to that registry office and making things official and above board, do you understand?"

Silence hung in the air for several moments until Duffy found her voice once more. "Because marriage worked so well for you and my dad didn't it?" Duffy shot back bitterly.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me young lady!" Kate reprimanded. "You think you've got it all figured out don't you? That it'll be all sunshine and roses! Life doesn't work like that Lisa."

"You think I don't know that?" Duffy retorted, her voice catching slightly as she spoke. She took a breath in an attempt to hide the trauma that lay behind her words. "Charlie and me are happy just the way we are mum and if you can't accept that then you know where the door is."

Furious, Kate prepared to leave. Standing in the doorway she couldn't resist one last comment towards her daughter. "I'll come back when you've decided to start behaving like a grown up."

Duffy watched her mother leave and once certain she was out of sight Duffy picked up the magazine that sat on the bedside cabinet, intending to read for a bit to take her mind off everything but found she couldn't settle. With an angry sigh she launched the magazine at the opposite wall, folded her arms and stared at the crumpled pages on the floor. Why did her mum insist on being so stubborn and frustrating?!

Charlie dropped the papers he held down onto the table with a frustrated sigh as the chairman called for a brief break. The meeting had been going around in circles for over an hour. Scooping the papers back up he followed Ewart and Megan outside into the hallway where they were met by the union rep.

"This isn't working." Ewart began without preamble.

"Well what do you suggest?" She replied. "We're fast running out of options." There was a pause whilst they all comtemplated the situation. "Unless..." She began before pausing.

"Unless what?" Megan queried.

"We need to show the human impact of the closure of the permanent night shift."

"That's an excellent idea." Ewart replied. "But who?"

"I'd be willing to speak." Charlie suggested.

Ewart and Megan exchanged a concerned look. "Are you sure that would be a good idea Charlie?" She asked, reaching out a hand to rest on his forearm.

Noticing the look they'd shared Charlie sighed in frustration. "I'll be fine, honestly. Duffy insisted that I come here today to speak for both of us. Now's my chance to speak for her and Matthew." Without waiting for a response from his friends, Charlie turned and strode determinedly back into the meeting room.

Megan looked over at Ewart once more, concern written all over her features. She feared this wouldn't end well but also knew Charlie well enough to know that his mind was made up. She sighed and followed her younger friend with resignation.

For the next few minutes the meeting carried on in much the same vein as before the break until Charlie spotted his chance to interject.

"Excuse me Mr Chairman, I keep hearing you talk about costs but I don't think you've considered one vital cost associated with closing the permanent night shift."

"And what cost might that be, Mr..?" He checked his notes.

"Fairhead, sir. I was the charge nurse on the night shift at Holby City hospital."

"Ah yes, Mr Fairhead. So what is this cost that you feel my colleagues and I haven't considered?"

"The human cost. The impact on the patients due to having to travel the extra distance to St James' or other hospitals."

"Its only an extra 20 minutes..." The chairman began.

"Only?! Only?! In an emergency any delay can be critical!"

"I understand that Mr Fairhead but..."

"Do you understand? Do you really? I highly doubt that!" Charlie's voice increased in pitch as the emotions he'd bottled up started to spill forth. "You've not had to watch the woman you love nearly bleed to death on the back seat of a car because the nearest casualty department is closed so you've had to travel to the other side of town so she can be treated! Then sit helpless whilst she's operated on and spends a night in a coma. All whilst your newborn son is in the special baby unit because he was born too early!" Charlie paused, gasping for breath, his throat hoarse from shouting, his eyes filling with tears.

"I can understand your concerns Mr Fairhead, especially on such personal and professional levels. But, the distance out of the centre of the city, at St. James' far out weighs the necessity of Holby City Hospital's central casualty department." The chairman explained calmly.

"You can't possibly..." Charlie interrupted.

"I haven't finished Mr Fairhead. The costs of running the casualty department outside of the city, not only takes away the pressure on the ambulance services, it also reduces time spent trying to get to Holby City through the increasing traffic in the centre of town."

"She wasn't breathing by the time we got to St James'. It took four units of blood just to stabilise her enough to be taken to theatre where they very nearly had to perform a hysterectomy whilst pumping three more units into her. As it is we still don't know for sure if she'll be able to have any more children. She's not well enough to be here today or I'd make you look her in the eye and justify your cost cutting measures!"

A shocked silence fell over the room for several moments, only punctuated by the sounds of Charlie trying to regulate his breathing. The chairman was about to speak again but Ewart interrupted.

"I have seen the human cost of such decisions time and time again in my career as a doctor, including the night that Charlie spoke about. What he didn't mention was the fact that the young lady in question is a very talented nurse, one of our own, who was let down by a system that cares more about budgets than patient lives!"

As Ewart spoke Megan rose from her seat and moved over to Charlie, placing her arm around his shoulders and gently but firmly guiding him from the room. As they entered the corridor she closed the door behind them and turned towards her younger friend.

"I let them down didn't I?" Charlie sighed.

Megan took hold of his face in her hands. "Not at all. You spoke from the heart. Those pen pushers needed to hear that. I just wish you hadn't had to be the one to tell them." She pulled him into a hug and held him tight for several moments whilst he tried to compose himself. When he eventual began to quieten Megan stepped back slightly and smiled softly. "Let's get you back to that family of yours, I'll give Ted a call to take you."

Charlie started to argue, to explain that his place was here fighting alongside his friends but he quickly gave up. If he was honest with himself he wanted to be as far away as possible from this place right now. He just wanted to be with Duffy and Matthew, that was where he truly belonged.

[erineveryone]

I’m starting to feel a BIT overwhelmed, everyone.

I went to the mall because the very idea of trying on cute clothes and maybe ogling some boys was extremely attractive. And just to start off, its weird that I budget in ‘touch myself’ time before I go anywhere. Like I can feel myself starting to think, okay, I need an extra twenty minutes to jack off and then to lay on the bed deep breathing and oozing.

Also I need to buy pads because I’m using them as ‘horny Erin’ absorbers. Good god what is my period going to be like? I’m going to be wandering around with bloody hands like Carrie. Eek.

Back to the mall.

I wore my cute romper, did my makeup for absolutely no reason, drove to the mall.  And… the only way I can put it is a balance of power situation. Like before I wasn’t a girl who got to experience actual sexual ecstasy, but I could be around as many boys as I wanted without feeling all that strongly. Maybe, MAYBE I’d think very casually ‘oh he’s cute’, or ‘hmm that’s sort of what I’m looking for if he didn’t have the stupid beard.’ And that would be about it. Mind was in charge.

Now it’s body. Oh boy, it’s body. I’m having real issues with boys. They are getting way too much of a response from me. I am noticing jawlines, I am examining boy butts for maybe the first time in my life. I am guesstimating at heights. If a boy smiles -- and if I am IN THE LINE OF FIRE -- I feel extremely tingly. This pack of teenage boys.. TEENAGE BOYS … swept by me in their dumb black clothes and greasy haircuts and I had to go sit down.

I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know why attaching a nerve would make me into a crushing schoolgirl. It was like I was a boy band 15 year old schoolgirl in there. There was one guy, blonde, with a girlfriend on his arm. He was just casually wearing this tight t-shirt and jeans, big broad chest. I wanted to be on that arm.

I ran in girl clothing stores practically as an escape. PS, they were being RAMPAGED. I’m sure this isn’t news but all the girls in there were breathing hard and had glassy eyes, and we were racking up credit card charges. I spent a TON of money on clothes that are VERY FLIRTY.

Anyway what is this? I get being horny but this is like… emotional? I keep falling in love. Or lust. Or whatever. I need a boy. It shouldn’t work like that.

[asidian]

Okay, but what about Prompto being sick or hurt or otherwise really really needing help, and screwing up enough courage to actually ask for it? (And everyone reacts perfectly because my soul needs healing)

Author’s Notes: I hope this is something like what you were looking for. This was a great prompt - thank you! :)

===

Helping Hands

===

Prompto twists his ankle at 11:30 on a weeknight, coming down the stairs in an apartment building he doesn’t know.

It knocks the breath out of him; his foot just comes down wrong, and the ankle goes sideways, and suddenly, he’s sitting there on the step, clenching his teeth and breathing through the pain. The empty pizza delivery bag is on the stairs a little ways below him, where he dropped it. His bike is parked out front, waiting for him to get back to work and finish his shift.

He’s not even supposed to be here right now. 

He has school tomorrow, and a test first period, and he really needed the extra study time. But there’s some ball game on tv that half of Insomnia is losing their minds for, and that means everyone in the whole city wants pizza.

And that means Prompto’s shift, which was supposed to be over two hours ago, is still a work in progress.

Okay, he tells himself. First things first. See if it’s as bad as it feels.

Prompto peels his sock down, gingerly, and prods at the skin of the ankle. It’s already noticeably more swollen than on the other side; honestly, it doesn’t look great, but maybe he lucked out. Maybe it’s just aesthetic. 

So Prompto grabs the railing. He levers himself up, nice and slow.

He eases his foot down onto the next step, experimentally – yelps, and goes right back down on his ass, hard.

His fingers are shaking a little when he fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials his boss. “Hey, Mr. H? I think I messed my leg up.”

He listens to the reply – wets his lips. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I know the game’s still on. But it’s kind of –”

Prompto closes his mouth. He winces. He says, “Sorry. Yeah, I know. Sorry.”“Okay,” says Prompto, quietly, and then the phone goes dead.

He sits there staring at it for maybe another minute or two, kicking his own bad timing. Any other night, they could’ve done without him, no problem. Now his boss thinks he’s a liar, or a slacker, or both.

But if he can’t walk on this thing, there’s no way he can bike on it. And if he can’t bike on it, there’s no way he can deliver pizzas.

He’s just got to get better quick and make it up to everyone later – that’s all.

===

The next day, his ankle isn’t any better.

It looks about three times the size it should be, thick and red, and Prompto has to kind of wrestle his foot to get the shoe on it. 

He’s planning to walk to school like he always does, but he realizes after about a block that that’s just not going to fly. Every time he puts weight on it, the pain makes him want to puke. Not only that, he’s slow.

He could call a cab, but money’s pretty tight. When rent went up last year, he never quite worked up the nerve to tell his parents. They’re always so busy, always away somewhere on business; the last thing he wants is to spend the phone calls he gets from them begging for money. They leave him a stipend, and it covers his costs, mostly. And if sometimes it just doesn’t quite stretch far enough – well. Prompto’s got a side job, now.

No big deal; he’s making it work.

But the upshot is, a cab’s kind of out of his price range. 

He could take the train, but the station’s ten blocks away, and it’s rush hour. He’d spend the trip packed in like a sardine, and Astrals only know how he’d manage to keep his feet if he didn’t find a spot by one of those hand straps hanging from the ceiling. 

Staying home’s right out of the question, too. If it wasn’t for that test, he could call himself in and pretend to be his dad. He’s done it before, once or twice, when he got really sick.

But he’s pulling a lukewarm C- in economics, and if he takes a zero on this test, that’ll pull him down into solid F territory. 

So.

So he’d better start walking.

Prompto gets about three blocks before he’s sweating like he ran the East Insomnian Marathon. He gets about five before he has to fight with himself every time he wants to put his foot down. His whole body’s screaming “Stop DOING that,” but, well – he kind of has to do that.

He’s twelve blocks from home when the thought occurs to him. It dawns out of nowhere, like the sun peeking out from behind some storm clouds.

He could call Noct.

It’s honestly kind of a weird thought. They’ve only been friends about six months – short enough that Prompto still trips over the realization that he has a friend, sometimes.

But he knows Noct’s advisor drives him to school, and he knows that the road they take runs pretty close to here.

Prompto doesn’t want to be that kid who’s mooching off the prince. He refuses to let Noct pay when they hang out in the arcade or grab a bowl of ramen after school, but this is different, isn’t it? It’s not like he’s asking to borrow money. It’s just a ride, and anyway, it’s not like it’s that far out of their way.

Prompto fishes his phone out of his pocket. He bites at his lip, and he swipes it on, and he stares at the contact list for a minute.

There are only four entries: Dad, Mom, Work, and Noct.

After a minute’s indecision, Prompto taps on the one that says Noct and waits until a voice that still sounds groggy with sleep picks up the other line.

===

“Oh, man,” says Prompto, when Noct opens the car door and steps outside. “My hero.”

Prompto’s sitting on the curb – has been, for the past forty-five minutes. The concrete’s kind of like ice through the pants of his school uniform, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of walking back home to wait somewhere more comfortable. It hurts that much.

Noct looks down at him, face unreadable. “I thought you meant you were waiting on a bench or something.”

“Nah,” says Prompto. “Figured I’d just stay put. Anyway, thanks for coming to get me.”

He’s just starting to haul himself to his feet when the car engine stops idling and turns off altogether. An instant later, the sound of the car door comes, and there’s Noct’s advisor, looking proper and put together, peering down at him with an expression that’s all polite interest. 

“Mr. Argentum, I take it?”

“Prompto,” says Prompto, and gives a nervous laugh. “You’re, uh. You’re mister.” He wracks his brain for the last name – comes up, a little desperately, with nothing at all.

“Ignis will do just fine,” says Ignis, and goes to one knee beside Prompto on the curb. “Noct says that you’ve twisted your ankle.”

“Yeah,” says Prompto. “Sorry. Usually I walk to school, but.” He spreads his hand and gestures, as if to say, “What can you do?”

“May I?” says Ignis.

“Specs has some first aid training,” says Noct.

“Oh,” says Prompto. “Yeah, sure. Go for it.”

Ignis’ hands are gentle as they pull up Prompto’s pants leg and ease down the sock.  Prompto grimaces at the sight. The skin’s going purple, and it’s swollen up like a sausage. It looks like you could poke it with a pin and the whole thing would explode.

Noct sucks a sharp breath in. “What the hell?” he says. “You were trying to walk to school on that?”

Prompto manages a sheepish shrug. “There’s that econ test. Kinda can’t miss it.”

Ignis gives a considering hum – probes the skin gently with his fingertips. “I’m afraid you’re going to miss it,” he says, decisively, and fishes his phone from his pocket.

“Huh?” says Prompto, stupidly, as he dials. “Wait, what?”

“Let him,” says Noct, and lowers himself to the ground to sit on the curb by Prompto. He leans a little against Prompto’s shoulder – nudges companionably. “He’s good at stuff like this.”

“Yes,” Ignis is saying into the phone. “Mr. Prompto Argentum. He’s had a medical emergency and will need to go to the hospital.”

“What?” hisses Prompto. “Dude. No. Dude. I can’t go to the hospital. Do you know how much they charge to even get you in to see someone?”

Noct’s giving him a look that Prompto’s not sure how to read. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows that Prompto’s never seen before.

“Hey,” says Noct. “Calm down. Like I said, let Specs handle it.”

“They’re gonna give me an x-ray or something,” says Prompto, and his voice is higher pitched than usual, tight with strain. X-rays are a couple thousand crowns, he’s pretty sure. That’s rent for two months, or his food budget for three whole years.

“Yes,” says Ignis, into the phone. “Yes, thank you for your time.” He ends the call, and he says to Prompto, “Your make-up test will be next week.”

“Thanks,” says Prompto. “Really, thanks – but if I don’t have to be at school, I’d kind of rather just go home. I’ll stick some ice on it and sleep it off.”

“No way,” Noct says, at the same moment Ignis says, “Certainly not.”

They exchange a long glance, and then Ignis clears his throat. He says, “Your ankle is likely broken. Sleeping it off isn’t going to help.”

Prompto’s starting to wish he never called Noct. He feels kind of sick, way down deep in the pit of his stomach. He says, “Look.” He licks at his lips. “Look. I’ll get some crutches second-hand, okay?”

When he glances up again, Ignis’ eyes are boring into him, sharp as knives behind the glasses. “You don’t have insurance,” he says, more a statement than a question.

Prompto ducks his head and nods. 

There’s a beat of silence. Prompto can practically hear Noct and Ignis sharing a glance again, over the top of his head, but he can’t bring himself to lift his eyes from the pavement. 

“Hey,” says Noct. “No big. Why don’t you see the Citadel doctor?”

“Uh,” says Prompto, and glances up, biting at his lip. “Pretty sure I super extra can’t afford that one, dude.”

“The Citadel doctor,” says Ignis smoothly, “is on salary, kept on hand to see to medical emergencies, should anything unfortunate befall the public tour groups.”

Prompto thinks that over. “So you’re saying he makes the same no matter what.”

“Whether he’s sitting in his office folding paper airplanes or seeing to your leg, it doesn’t make an iota of difference to him, financially.” Ignis adjusts his glasses. “Shall we give him something worthwhile to do with his time, this morning?”

Prompto glances to Noct’s face – gets an encouraging nod.

“Yeah,” says Prompt, and feels a smile starting at the corners of his own mouth, soft and relieved. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

It’s not going to solve all his problems. If his ankle actually is broken, he’s probably going to have a rough couple of months while he can’t bike. Best case scenario, his boss lets him work in-house making the pizzas instead of delivering them, but even then he’s losing out on tips. Worst case scenario – well, he’ll figure out what to cut out of the budget when he gets there.

But in the meantime, Noct’s maneuvering Prompto’s arm around his shoulder to help him stand. In the meantime, Ignis is holding open the car door.

In the meantime, for the first time in a long time, someone’s around to catch him when he stumbles, and that – that means more than Prompto knows how to say.

[allenmendezsr]

Metabolic Cooking - Fat Loss Cookbook

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/metabolic-cooking-fat-loss-cookbook/

Metabolic Cooking - Fat Loss Cookbook

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Q: What if it doesn’t work for me?

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Test it for yourself. Experience the results for yourself. And if it’s not everything I’ve told you it is, I’ll give you a full refund and allow you to keep the entire system just for giving it an honest try.

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[felicityb-reviews]

BTS x Steve Aoki “MIC Drop” Remix

What’s that?!?!?

It’s a Jace (aka Felicity B) with her review of BTS’ MIC Drop (Remix)!!

~The Song~

So.

This is a remix.

If this was anyone else but BTS and Steve Aoki (like the Chainsmokers, for example), I’d have skipped this release and cussed out Big Hit for two weeks gay straight.

But I happened to really enjoy this. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the original (it felt like a cheap imitation of their School Life Trilogy era and didn’t knock hard enough), but I put up with it cause it happened to be a highlight of Love Yourself ~Her~.

Which should tell you everything you need to know about my thoughts on that album.

But MIC Drop the Remix is a B A N G E R, sis!!

Mic Drop the Remix builds upon the foundation laid by the original, and takes it to heights it should have gone. I dare one of y'all hatin’ ass heauxs to say you couldn’t at least nod ya head this. Go ahead, I dare you.

Cause this remix has me turnt up, sis. This remix has Thot Mode Level 69 activating, sis. This remix has me runnin’ up on a bitch like I ain’t got nothing to lose, sis.

THIS REMIX IS BOUTA MAKE ME LOSE MY DAMN JOB, SIS!!!

SHE’S THAT POWERFUL, SIS!!!

I got some complaints, tho -

1) There is entirely too much auto tune, fam. I can barely understand half of what they’re saying in the song (and mind you, this song is ~50% in English), and it’s just so distracting. I get that that is partially a stylistic choice.

I respect that.

But what I cannot respect is that this has been a problem I’ve had with BTS since I started checking for them after We are Bulletproof Pt 2. And it’s only gotten worse. Their voices sound so freaking animatronic!!

This is unacceptable!!

2) This really should have been a Rap Line featuring Taehyung or Jungkook song. You can *clearly* tell this is for Rap Line, so there is absolutely no reason for all seven members to be present. If all the vocal parts are too much for one feature vocal, have them split with Hoseok. Ain’t nobody mad at Hoseok stuntin on a bitch with them vocals.

I mean, there is but they can kiss my black ass

And while we’re at it, chop off that extra af vocal section at the end; it kills the energy of the track and causes it to end like weak ass orgasm. After the release (heh heh heh) of the second chorus and Namjoon actin like he’s about that life (he’s not), have Yoongi repeat the hook till the beat builds enough for another drop. And then end that bitch right.

Now…

I accept PayPal and MasterCard.

~The Video~

This video looks like someone at Big Hit wondered what would happen if they made We are Bulletproof Pt 2 with a bigger budget. And considering the subject matter of the song pretty much makes this We are Bulletproof Pt 3, I am not mad at that at all.

There isn’t much for me to report on here, folks - the camera work is pretty standard, the editing is tight, nothing about the sets jumps out at me. This is a very good video for the song, but it isn’t blow your socks off amazing.

I need to address these wardrobe choices real quick, tho.

And not even everybody’s wardrobe, just Hoseok and Namjoon.

Hoseok… I don’t know who told you those fabric tassels hanging from your hat were cute. Cause they’re not.

I don’t know who told you they looked ~Hood~. Cause they’re not.

I’m just confused as to why you’re wearing them. It’s bad enough y'all are wearing bucket hats (I’m not about to go in on them, but suffice to say that they’re ugly), but you gotta have those things dangling from your, too?!?!?!?!.

Mess™

I mean, I’m glad you aren’t wearing those horrid braid things you wore in the Mic Drop stages in this, but sis… Why couldn’t you have just worn a bandanna in your hair, like Yoongi?!?!?

A fuckin waste…

And Joon… I don’t wanna roast you. Just kidding, I fuckin love roasting you. You are my favorite Bulletproof Bias to roast. But this is just asking for it.

The sad part about this hair is that I know the rationale behind it. Unlike Hobert attaching two feet of fabric from Joanne’s Clearance Fabrics to his hat, this hairstyle was super popular with 1st gen boy bands doing a hip hop concept.

He looks like Jaehyun’s mo whack older brother, circa Limitless era. He looks like he was doing a hair masque before the shoot and forgot to wash that shit out. He fuckin looks ridiculous and idk what kind of style he should have done instead of this, but I just want y'all to know that this isn’t a Cute Look™. I don’t wanna see no Boyfriend RapMan MBs with this foolish hair, y'all. I will rebuke you and your whole entire family if I see it.

Just don’t do it!!!

~The Choreography~

BTS, as of late, have been dabbling in more complex formations in their routines, and it’s been really cool to experience as a fan. Their routines are the same old stuff we know and love from the boys, but they’re presenting it to us in very new ways. They’re breaking off into twos and threes to do specific parts, and I admit that seems kind of simple on paper, but seeing it in action is great.

As much as I loathed DNA (yes, even DNA can get this fire), I put aside any kind of animosity I had for those triflin’ ass breakdowns to watch the live performances, because there’s just something so cool about seeing it performed.

Similar to what I said in the song section, I think this kind of choreography shows off BTS’s potential to break off into units/do solo promo. In fact, I think it’s really kind of lame how BTS faded us all with the solo material on WINGS, just to come back with all group tracks on Love Yourself ~Her~.

We didn’t even get a cypher, sis.

And no, I am not counting Serendipity and HER in that, because those songs are less than two minutes long. Give me full versions, and I’ll consider it.

Anyway.

So.

I guess Kim Taehyung wasn’t content trampling all over my bias list with his singing (he has the best technique in BTS, don’t fuckin’ @ me, bitch) and visuals, he’s decided to up his dancing. Because I need another bias who makes me sweat aggressively when they start two steppin.

He’s in almost all the unit formations, and while I’m happy he’s getting the spotlight he deserves, I’m gonna need him to calm the fuck down.

Or come serve me the D, whichever he feels like doing on this good day

~Overall and Final Thoughts~

*ahem*

LET BTS DO SOLO AND UNIT SHIT, YOU FUCKING COWARDS!!!

That’s it.

That’s literally all there is to this 40 page dissertation I’m calling a review.

I like this remix a lot, but every time I listen to it, I circle back to the thought that this would be a Perfect 10™ if it was a unit feature".

It’s Time™, sis. Even EXO has a sub unit. And y'all KNOW SM Entertainment is Determined™ to shove EXO in our faces as a whole, because of their We Are One bullshit.

It is Time™.

I need whoever is in charge of their music (cause Lordt knows Rap Line has dropped enough hits this era that it isn’t them) to take a risk. Or maybe if y'all don’t wanna do unit promo just yet (even though you should), go the Seventeen route and have them record unit tracks for the album b sides. Teen.Age, much like WINGS, was elevated by the unit tracks.

I just need something different, sis. Because Lord knows that BTS has enough talent to deliver. This remix is more than enough proof.

[thehikingnerd]

Day 111.

I woke up and got off to a bit of a rough start.  My newly purchased wall charger, not having worked overnight, had left my phone dead. It was always a real bummer to wake up and find that your phone or battery pack hadn’t charged right before you are planning to head out.  It is a major inconvenience and in some cases on the trail could even put you in a tight spot where you might even need to stay an extra day to recharge your device since it was your maps and communication and emergency everything. Fortunately, this was not a perilous section of trail we were looking at, and Butt’rs also had a phone.  So it wasn’t the end of the world, but I let it charge on a borrowed charger while we finished getting ready and just was annoyed since I had just bought a new charger that wasn’t going to work for me. Also, a few days earlier my glasses had a screw come loose and one of the arms wasn’t functional.  So, being in a home I thought to ask Deidra if she had a tiny screw driver.  She did, and I was ultimately successful in fixing my glasses, but it was a long and very frustrating task to complete, near blindly working with just small parts. Finally, we were packed up and ready to head out; complete with supplies and clean laundry.  We said our good-byes and back off down the road we went.  It was, unfortunately, too far down the road before I realized that through all the conversation and catching up and preparations, I had forgotten to get even a single picture with them before leaving. I could have kicked myself for forgetting to do so, but there was no going back by that point, especially with my ankle still in such bad condition.  We had breakfast at Jimmy John’s (I generally avoid the place, but you don’t have as many choices when you are relegated to 2 miles per hour and have to walk everywhere) and then passed by a little drive thru/walk up coffee place.  We talked to the workers for a second and they told us they were running a promotion where if it was our first time as a customer there, we could get a free drink. So we each got a large iced mocha and left a nice tip before continuing down the road.  We passed by a second hand store and I glanced in real quick hoping to see a used scooter: the kind that people with broken legs use to get a round.  My ankle was in such bad shape that I wanted to buy a used one for the road walking we had ahead for the next few days. I debated whether this was cheating, but to be honest, if I had found one, I wouldn’t have cared. My ankle hurt badly enough that I didn’t want to continue, but didn’t have any other choice.  Time (overall trail-wise) was already running short at this point and we had to push on.  At some point we started to see dusty cars rolling past, going southbound on the road. I smiled. I knew what they were. They were burners returning from their week at Burning Man.  I remembered that before starting, I had delusions of maybe taking a week long break from the trail and going back to Burning Man for the 3rd time if I were ahead of schedule.  Well, I certainly was not ahead of schedule and I knew I wouldn’t be able to attend long before the festival was to start.  But it was fun to see everyone rolling back into town in their playa covered vehicles and to know that they had just had one hell of a week. As we walked, it was always fun to entertain ourselves with all of the bizarre things we found by the side of the road.  On this day I had found a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses and an American flag. I felt free and happy even if I was walking along a roadside with cars flying past, but it was a good feeling overall. So, I wore both that day as I walked down the road.  I realized that we were quickly approaching was should have been the 2000 mile marker on the trail.  A milestone I had been looking forward to since the half-way point in California. Since there wasn’t a marker on the side of the road outside of Bend, we were forced to improvise and fashion one of our own.  I made two actually: one I just drew in the dirt with really big numbers with a stick and we both took pictures for one another to remember to occasion, and another, smaller one made from metal and washers I had found along the side of the road which just seemed so appropriate that day. At some point, we passed by and stopped in at a place called Maragas Winery to cool off and get a cold drink before pressing on.  We even saw a weight station and walked on the scale as we went and it read fairly accurately I thought with me and my pack coming in at around 200lbs. Finally, at just before 9pm, we made our way to our next town called Madras and found a Burger King that was about to close. We managed to get a meal just in time.  It was getting late and we needed to figure out our plans for the night.  We stopped into a small motel to ask the price for the cheapest room for a night. We both wanted to be conservative with our money and decided if it were around $50, we would go for it and split the room.  But the cheapest we could get was more than that and we walked on.  Just up the way was a city park and we figured we might give it a try.  I mean what you have to realize is that it takes thousands upon thousands of dollars to buy your food, new equipment, and hotels along the way on the PCT, and the vast majority of people have a fairly tight budget and you are budgeting on about a hotel room only once every week or so and saving by sleeping in your tent most nights.  Since we were on a major detour, going through towns that had no place for us to camp, we didn’t have any real options other than getting hotel rooms. But if we did that every night we would blow through a months’ worth of hotel budget in a few days and not really need all of those comforts each night.  So… yeah… we decided to sleep in the town park.  It scared us because we didn’t know if it was legal or if anyone like the police or even random other people would attempt to harm or maybe even rob us, we just didn’t know with neither of us ever having to sleep in a town park before.  By all accounts at this point we felt like we were homeless and were being perceived as such by people in these towns.  So, we saw a pavilion type shelter and set up to cowboy camp under it.  I was excited to even find an electrical outlet there too, and decided to sleep next to it while my phone charged and hoped that I would hear and wake up if anyone tried to steal my phone while I was asleep. Having gone to meet Angie in Portland for that week off, I had drank a 40 from a brown paper bag behind a dumpster at a train station… I thought that would have been the peak of my hobo experience on the trail, but this was a whole ‘nother level here. I kept thinking we are no longer going “nobo”, but were instead now officially going “hobo” on the PCT, lol.  But it was what it was and we set up and went to sleep.  At some point I heard noise and felt something and woke up.  Butt’rs and I had both picked spots that were now getting hit with sprinklers.  I rotated to miss most of the water and only was barely getting some spray, enough that I could ignore and go back to sleep, you really get used to the elements and don’t let things get in the way of your ever-so-crucial sleep.  I had noticed also that in the night we had a 3rd homeless person come up and sleep under the same sheltered area, but he was obviously more experienced than us as he’d chosen the perfect spot that avoided all the sprinklers.   Butt’rs also relocated a bit and promptly went back to sleep.

[pennyfynotes]

8.10.17 // 11:00am // guide to school supply shopping

this one was requested by @catharticstudying (thanks for the request!)

so it is upon us. every studyblr's favorite time of year. no, not going back to school (though i guess some of you enjoy this?), but getting new stationery/school supplies! here i've compiled 2 lists (one for hs, one for college) of some essentials you might consider getting for the coming school year (and some reasons and some links). read til the end if you want some tips for getting the best prices/saving money! xoxo, m

*also not sponsored or anything by any of the companies i link, they're just products i enjoy+have used for years*

high school:

1. spiral notebooks. i personally prefer notebooks to binders. they have smaller rings, which comes in handy as a lefty, and provide a layer of "padding" that you don't get if you just write on a single sheet. i think it makes for smoother writing. you can still tear out pages (unlike composition books) which i also like. accel (the staples brand) makes good, plastic cover notebooks with a nice plastic pocket for less than mead/five star, so i go for those.

2. binders. personally i use these for compiling study guides i've made + other resources. you can also take notes/keep your notes in these if you prefer being able to rearrange (which isn't an option in notebooks). i personally prefer having a few 1/2 inch or 1 inch binders because they are more portable and i don't put much stuff in binders, but some people like to keep everything in a 3 inch one, it's all up to preference!

3. folders. these are great for organizing handouts and you can get one for each class to stay organized. i was always a little too lazy to punch holes in things, so this was my binder substitute. if you get the ones with prongs, you can also make little "booklets" like you can in binders, so i also used these for study guides. some other types of folders include:

>>> multipocket folders: great if you don't want an individual folder for each class

>>> expanding file folders: these are a little bulkier, but you can still bring them to class if you choose. another great binder alternative (especially if you like all your things in one place). i also use mine to file old school work and keep it at home.

4. a planning system. i'm sure you've seen these all over studyblr, but they are really useful. keeping track of important dates+assignments will make your life a lot easier. you can use a planner or a bullet journal or whatever you like. here are some options:

>>>planners: lilly pulitzer (super pretty for someone who wants something decorative but is too lazy to do it themselves. also super expensive so you can guilt yourself into using it), erin condren (these seem pretty popular? also pricey though they look lil cheaper through staples?), happy planner (still quite cute+customizable, but a little cheaper at $20ish. you can get it at michaels so use that 40% off coupon)

>>>>>>>>for even more affordable options, try target or staples :) it doesn't have to be expensive to keep you organized! (i've linked cheaper options from each store)

>>> bullet journals: moleskine (cream paper, thread bound, hard/soft cover, dotted/gridded/lined/blank paper), leuchtturm 1917 (same as moleskine but with only hard cover and an index in front -- i've linked my current bujo), muji dot grid notebook (more affordable, spiral, white paper)

>>>>>>>>or just use whatever notebook you have laying around/want to use

5. calculator. depending on the level of math/science you're taking, you'll either want a graphing (the model i used and loved, though idt they sell them new anymore) or scientific calculator.

6. pencil case. pretty self explanatory. i prefer canvas bc of the stretch (unfortunately idt they sell the one i have anymore so i found a standard one) here's some stuff to put in it (links are to personal favs):

>>> pencils (mechanical | regular)

>>> an eraser (these are annoyingly hard to find)

>>> dark blue/black pens (i personally only use black). favs include: pentel energel, zebra f-301, bic round stic

>>> more colorful pens (tbh not totally necessary). more favs: bic atlantis, staedler triplus, pilot g-tec

>>>>>> colored pencils are a great, cheaper alternative to colored pens if you're on a tight budget. or crayola supertips!

>>> highlighters (so i don't actually use these i just color code with pen or underline, but you might want them) i linked some pastel ones from amazon (since they seem so trendy) that are a fair bit cheaper than the more popular brands

>>> white out (i prefer tape bc no dry time. also don't really use this much...)

>>> ruler (i love my little folding ruler from taiwan)

>>> post its (notes + flags/tabs)

7. a backpack. get one that will last over a super cheap, "cute" one from f21. definitely a better investment. i used my jansport for 8 years before getting a new backpack this year (but that wasn't because the bag was worn out). you'll be carrying a bunch of books, so get something with good back + shoulder padding!

8. water bottle. ok not really school supplies, but still very necessary. stay hydrated! (unlike me, the shriveled prune)

college/university:

you'll probably need all (or at least most) of the above. here are a few extras:

1. laptop. pretty self explanatory, but you can do sooo much on these. look up answers, watch lectures, take notes, do hw, write essays, you know the drill. (link to the one i have -- not cheap -- which is no means necessary)

>>> and obviously bring/have a charger

2. external battery. you'll probably be out and about much longer than you were in high school and having a portable way to charge your phone is a lifesaver.

3. flash drive/hard drive. if you have a really important presentation, i wouldn't just rely on emailing it to yourself. also, if you do a lot of your work on your computer, backing files up is probably a good idea (hey m, you should implement your own advice...)

4. dry erase board+marker. the board is good for studying for exams/doing practice problems without using too much paper and the marker is good for (use with the board, obv) when the library study rooms have no markers aka always.

5. smallish stapler. i print so much stuff around campus and there isn't always a stapler. having one i can carry around is amazing. (i also don't like the super baby ones so *i think* this is the one i have)

saving money:

1. keep an eye out for sales: this is obviously a good way to save money. knowing what you want and looking for sales is the best way to go.

2. use coupons: i know a lot of major school supply stores (target, walmart, staples etc) don't do this, but if your local store does, go on the hunt for those coupons.

3. michaels. kinda tied to the above point, but michaels always has coupons. you won't be able to get a lot of stuff there but sometimes you can find planners/notebooks/sticky notes and colored pens/pencils. they have weird stuff in weird places, so be thorough.

4. marshalls/tj maxx + the like. these places are great for water bottles, backpacks, organizational items as well as cue notebooks+planners. the last 2 will always (at least usually) be more expensive than your generic notebooks, but sometimes cheaper that the regular, super cute stuff.

5. amazon. they can sometimes have cheaper prices than in store retailers and also have a huge selection of stuff.

as usual, this was a lot, but i hoped this helped! lmk if you have questions or have other things you'd like to see for the bts (not beyond the scene) season :)

[theoddcatlady]

Energy Potion

Alan: Oh my god I’m dying.

Alan: End me guys. Just take my body and throw it in a hole six feet deep.

Melody: Stop complaining, it’s not that bad.

Bruce: Shut the fuck up and pass me more coffee.

Alan: Coffee. All I consume, all I taste. Is goddamn coffee.

Cleo: I don’t know about you guys IM DOING GREAT :D

Melody: Oh god I think she found where I hid her Monster.

Melody: Cleo no do you KNOW how bad that is for you?! Spring water. Deep breathing. That’ll get you through finals!

Alan: … On what planet do you live on?

Melody: The one where nature provides rather than artificial chemicals and manmade poison.

Bruce: Oh man I haven’t laughed this hard since… I can’t remember. More coffee. More coffee. My fingers are shaking so much and I still don’t have this paper done. Spellcheck thinks I’m developing Parkinson’s.

Cleo: Your fingers only JUST started shaking? D:

Melody: Your kids are all going to end up with ADHD.

!~*~!

Melody: I have decided my earlier statements may have been naïve.

Alan: Nooo, really?

Melody: RIP. X.X

Cleo: Okay, after spending all morning in bed with a migraine maybe drinking that many Monsters in a row was a bad idea. Whoopsie daisy.

Bruce: I’m surprised you’re not dead.

Cleo: Same bro. Fuck finals.

Melody: We’re all doomed.

Alan: … hold on a sec guys I got this weird ad on the college website, lemme show you.

Alan: [IMG]

Alan: Ignore that it looks like every ‘graphic design is my passion’ advertisement ever.

Melody: Oooh, a natural remedy?

Cleo: No crash? I’m sold. How much is it, I don’t wanna blow my food budget.

Bruce: Thiiis sounds like bull. Don’t do it man.

Alan: Too late. Emailed the seller.

Bruce: Cocksucker.

Alan: You wish jackass.

Cleo: Shut the fuck up guys. I’m emailing Gus too. See if he’ll work out a deal. Jesus, a week’s amount of doses is over thirty bucks… hello Ramen cups and poptarts. How I missed you.

Melody: I have some extra quinoa!

Cleo: Errrrr…

Bruce: I mean. We only need a week’s worth. Then finals will be over.

Alan: Ooooh, changing your tune, mister skeptic?

Bruce: If I don’t pack in as much study time as possible I’m going to fail. I’m not gonna let that happen.

Alan: Awww yeah! Let’s try some kid’s science experiment!

!~*~!

Alan: I’m still laughing that it’s called ‘Energy Potion’. What sort of geeky ass bullshit?

Bruce: Taking the first pill now. I have to study.

Melody: All at once, readysetgo!

Cleo: …

Cleo: I didn’t expect it to dissolve. Thought it was like birth control.

Bruce: Literally tastes like piss. Literally.

Alan: Spend a lot of time doing that Bruce?

Bruce: Eat shit.

Alan: :P

Melody: Maybe it’s the color that brings on the whole urine sensation. So icky.

Cleo: Blergh. My mouth feels awful, how’s this supposed to work Alan?

Alan: ‘One pill and you’ll have bursts of energy throughout the night, a slow burn rather than a high followed by a crash.’ Taken right from the product description.

Melody: Oddly enough, I feel its working! Or maybe that’s the crystals I set up around my study place.

Bruce: Or placebo effect. That too.

!~*~!

Cleo: Bruce?

Bruce: What’s up Cleo? Any reason you’re not messaging with the group?

Cleo: … I took another pill this morning.

Bruce: Shit, are you feeling sick? I mean it does wonders don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think you can stay awake all day like that.

Cleo: I know I know I’m sorry, I’m just letting you know in case something goes wrong. And it did work. I didn’t feel tired until the sun went up. Still pretty sleepy.

Bruce: You wanna come over to my apartment to study? I know the dorm’s pretty rough on you.

Cleo: Well…

Bruce: I’ll have more Monster for you.

Cleo: Sold. Can we play a few rounds of Overwatch too?

Bruce: As long as I can be your pocket Mercy.

!~*~!

Melody: This is the best stupid idea you’ve ever had Alan!

Alan: I know right? You know how productive I was last night? Focused?

Melody: I know! I didn’t even feel buzzed! Just AWAKE!

Cleo: Slept through one of my classes though. The crash does come, just when the sun comes up.

Bruce: Whatever man, most of my classes don’t care about attendance except when it comes to finals. Two more days until it begins.

Cleo: I can’t wait for them to be over. I might take it easy. No more all nighters. I’ll save the rest of my pills for another time.

Melody: To be honest I haven’t even been taking mine.

Alan: … What?

Bruce: Sure Melody haha how the heck have you put in more studying time?

Melody: I just feel more awake at night. I think my internal clock is changing, a few sessions of meditation and I’ll be able to refresh myself.

Alan: That’s weird.

Cleo: You know, now that I think about it, I think I forgot to take the pill last night because of how awake I was? It just felt more natural to be awake at night rather than the day. I powernapped at midnight but that’s it. It’s probably just working its way out of our systems.

Bruce: god I hope so. I swear if you end up hospitalized because of this…

!~*~!

Cleo: TMI, I don’t care.

Alan: You too?

Bruce: Same.

Melody: I’m anti shaving but this is RIDICULOUS.

Bruce: …  How the hell did we get on the same wavelength so fast?

Cleo: I mean we’re friends. That’s how it is right?

Cleo: That’s beside the point. The point is my bush is thicker than a jungle, and I JUST got waxed as a reward for passing finals.

Alan: That is really TMI but same.

Melody: I might actually break out the razor.

Bruce: probably just get a weed whacker…

Cleo: Took the words out of my MOUTH.

Alan: Maybe it’s just a full moon, either way, finals are over, toss out the damn pills, we’re GOOD.

!~*~!

Bruce: I’m still not sleeping at night.

Melody: Neither am I. I’m back at my mom’s and she’s getting SUPER worried.

Alan: I keep nodding off at work. This fucking sucks. I’m gonna get canned at this rate and I don’t wanna go back to living with my parents.

Bruce: Have either of you heard from Cleo? I haven’t since she got home to her parents. I feel like she’s fine, but you know, I worry.

Alan: I know you two finally got together but relax, she’s fine.

Melody: She’s probably just organizing her room.

Bruce: … How the fuck did you know we were together?

Melody: …

Melody: I… don’t know. I just guessed I guess.

Bruce: Bull. We haven’t told anyone. Her dad’s racist as hell, you really think he’s cool with his princess dating a black guy?

Alan: Isn’t that beside the point anyway?

Bruce: No, not it’s not.

Bruce: I really didn’t want to say this.

Bruce: Alan, I know you’re bisexual. You were at the LGBT safe space the night before graduation.

Bruce: And Melody, you believe in this vegan hippie bullshit only to make your mom happy. Because she’d be horrified to find out you’re atheist. You were at Burger King yesterday and I know you weren’t there for the salad.

Bruce: I just know what you two are doing at any time, any place, anywhere. I know where to find you right now. I can’t put it into words but it’s like we’re connected.

Bruce: Do you realize it too?

Melody: … Yes.

Melody: I was worried last night because you weren’t safe. And when you got home and told me that you were nearly in a car accident I almost screamed. I don’t believe in this sixth sense bullshit. I don’t believe in any of it. I was a vegetarian because of logic reasons, not that I ‘feel the animal’s souls’.

Alan: But you’ve also been eating a lot of meat lately too, huh?

Bruce: There’s so many jokes I can make about the meat thing.

Alan: Time and a fucking place, Bruce.

Alan: I’ve basically become a carnivore overnight. I made myself three steaks last night because I just couldn’t get full. I’m blowing through my food budget like there’s no tomorrow.

Bruce: Damn. I’ve been getting by on chicken nuggets but nothing beats a rare steak right now. I could go get one right now. If I wasn’t so damn tired.

!~*~!

Bruce: Cleo? Are you there? I know you’re okay but I’m wondering for how much longer.

Bruce: Please tell me you’re okay.

Cleo: … I’m hideous.

Cleo: My new teeth are all sharp. I’m so hairy. The only thing I like to eat is meat. I only like being out at night, and when I do, I explore my territory.

Cleo: I’m not what you want.

Bruce: No no no, it’s all of us, Cleo. My teeth just started to get loose. The night is beautiful, isn’t it?

Cleo: Especially the moon. But I feel so alone. I’m not supposed to be alone. I love you, Bruce. So much. We’re meant to be.

Bruce: We are. All of us need to be together. It’s getting stronger by the day. What’s happening to us?

Cleo: The potion. The energy potion.

Cleo: That fucker turned us into freaks!

Bruce: Nonono, you’re not a freak. If it wasn’t for this new connection, I wouldn’t have made a move that night. Appearance or not, this isn’t… all bad.

Cleo: Not all bad?

Cleo: What is even the end of this? What are we turning into?

Bruce: Hang tight. We’ll be okay, I promise.

Cleo: … my dad’s banging on my door fuckfuckfuck I think he knows about us

Bruce: Cleo?

Bruce: Cleo?!?!

Bruce: CLEO PLEASE REPLY

Bruce: CLEO!

!~*~!

Bruce: She’s in trouble.

Melody: I’m already almost to her house. Alan’s with me. Meet us there.

Bruce: Keep her safe.

!~*~!

Bruce: Shaken them off?

Melody: Yes.

Cleo: They couldn’t keep up. They’re weak. They don’t have our senses in the dark.

Alan: I got rid of the body. And our clothes.

Bruce: You know where to go?

Cleo: We’ll meet you there.

Alan: You’re in charge.

Alan: We’ll get through this together.

Melody: Yes.

Cleo: Yes.

Bruce: Yes.