#if you were one of them then condolences for you that you watched season 4 of young justice (and presumably season 3 too. extra condolences

[have-you-read-this-short-fiction]

"The Lady, or the Tiger" is available to read here

[itsgoghtime]

Travelin’ Man

The Long Way Home Series : Part 3

CW: Fluff, angst if you squint, many words, very very long, Russia kind of, hurt/comfort, season 4.

Words : 7078

"Come on, kids are just the burden of society - we don't need them dragging us around for the rest of our lives."

"Murray, I want to know, okay? Even if it doesn't end up being with you. I want to have kids." At this, the door opened, and we went quiet.

The words I didn't want to hear. There they were, coming out of the mouth of the doctor.

I couldn't have kids.

I pulled my hand from Murray's, and the doctor offered their condolences as we exited the building.

I walked next to Murray on the sidewalk, not saying a word. He had noticed the shift since we had received the news, and couldn't quite figure out how to comfort me.

"I want to say..." he started, pausing for another few minutes because he couldn't quite articulate how to say it. "I want to say I'm sorry."

I chuckled under my breath, shaking my head.

"No, really. I am. I'm sorry."

"Murray, no you're not. You've spent the last month trying to talk me out of wanting to have kids and now that..." my breath hitched in my throat, making me pause a moment to compose myself as best I could. "And now that we know this, I'm sure you're more than happy with the results of months of testing and will tell me how much of a waste of money this whole ordeal was." I looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, and shook my head again. "I know."

We didn't speak even after we arrived back at home. I went and got in the shower, running the water over my back as I felt the feelings begin to numb.

While I was in the shower, Murray picked up some of the stuff in the apartment, cleaning things up and starting the risotto - the dish he knew was my absolute favorite.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Murray turned down the heat on the stove, and after stirring the pot, came over to me and held out his hand.

My eyes met his, and I took his hand and he pulled me into him, swaying ever so gently to the cassette I had made a few months back for our five year anniversary of being together. It was music Murray hadn't typically enjoyed, but I had found just a few songs in my favorite category (that quite frankly ended up being his favorites) that he didn't mind so much, and made the mixtape.

How Deep is Your Love, by The Bee Gees came on and I rested my forehead against his.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I've been an absolute dickhead."

"I know. But you're my dickhead."

We didn't say anything for another minute or so, and he held me closer.

"I want to help you feel better."

My lips met his, and when he pulled away, he brought me to his side as he went to stir the risotto again.

Soon enough, the risotto was done and we went and sat cross legged on the couch, facing each other.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?"

I smiled, gently scraping the side of my bowl with my spoon. "I don't know, I wish I felt like going out and doing something but that's..." I paused, feeling completely guilty, because this was usually the one night a week that we'd go and do something, if it meant going to a bowling alley or the bar or anywhere, really.

"Hey, it's okay. We can stay in, we aren't obligated to go anywhere until you are feeling more like yourself again." His hand found it's way to my knee, gently running his thumb over it. I smiled, and we went back to the risotto.

The night was spent on the couch watching television, as Murray had suspected; snuggling, as Murray had hoped. It wasn't too noticeable, but Murray held me just a little closer. He vowed to himself that there wasn't anything or anybody that he would ever again allow to hurt me as much as this news had. He just wouldn't allow it. He noticed my tighter hold on him and the occasional random tears that he so gently wiped away, and made a promise to himself that being my protector would always be his first priority.

I yawned, and Murray caught it, yawning himself and chuckling. He looked at his watch, and sighed.

"Well, my dear, I think it's time to go to bed. It's past 2."

I nodded, and for a few moments, we just snuggled closer.

Murray mumbled something softly, as if he was asking himself a question.

I hummed, leaning into his neck.

"Marry me, lover."

At this, I turned in Murray's arms to look more fully at him. I couldn't see any signs of joking, but I chuckled a little.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No." Murray stated, completely deadpan.

"You're saying a lot of strange things today, Murray Bauman. I'm... I'm..." I couldn't find the words to continue, so Murray filled in the gaps.

"Listen, lover. We've been dancing around this for a really long time. I've had the ring - the one you had mentioned to me - for two years. It's sitting in the top drawer of the dresser under my socks in the back - you can look if you're so skeptical." For a moment, I just looked at him. Within seconds, I bolted up and ran to the bedroom and he heard the incessant scraping sound that the drawers made, and took a mental note that we either needed to sand it down or buy a new dresser.

"You know," he called from the couch, "I just think it's about time we did something about this, that's all. I can't play matchmaker again until we figure this out because I'm kind of tired of people shoving my own advice down my throat and not being willing to take it myself."

I stepped down the stairs, holding the box firmly in my hands. I made eye contact, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Well, are you going to open it?"

I didn't respond, instead going back to sit where I had been before, as his arm came back around me.

Murray studied me for a minute, trying to figure out what was going on in my head.

"I'm afraid to open it."

He caressed my face in one of his hands. "Why is that, love?"

It took me a moment, but Murray knew if he gave me the time, I would always tell him what was going on. "I've been this close before. And it didn't... work out. I don't want to lose you because you get scared of the commitment to someone like me. Especially with how today went."

His lips met my forehead, then gently taking the box from my white knuckled hands. He turned it towards me, opening it.

"Then let this be a win for you." His eyes met mine, and he smiled gently. "I know this is scary. But if I'm being honest, there's no one else I'd rather have as Mrs Bauman. We will be okay."

He saw the relief in my eyes, replacing the fear with elation.

"Now, do you wanna marry me or do you wanna put this away and forget we ever had this conversation? Because that's okay too - you've been through so much today already."

I just smiled, the tears rolling down my cheeks making me laugh. "Yes Murray. I wanna marry you."

He giggled like a school girl, taking the ring out of its box, putting it on my waiting finger.

We sat and stared at it for a moment, the fifth rerun episode of Andy Griffith starting on the television.

"We're gonna do this, aren't we?" I whispered.

He laughed again. "Yes, lover. We're gonna do this and we're gonna do it together." He kissed my hand, bringing it to his chest.

We turned back to the show for a moment, and he laughed.

"You know..."

"I know, Murray. You don't understand why I like entertainment like this - but I end up loving what you introduce me to so I think the interest should go both ways." I laughed.

"Well, okay. That too, but I had not planned for any of this to happen how it did. I'm surprised." He saw the look I gave him, and he laughed again. "Not in a bad way - I've never been happier. I had just expected some cliché like everyone else - a fancy dinner or a concert or something and the grand finale comes out in a little box at the end."

I snuggled closer to him, and he kissed the top of my head. "I like it this way."

"Me too, lover. Me too."

I couldn't tell when we fell asleep, but with what felt like just a few moments, I was adjusting next to Murray in his arms as we laid on the couch - the sun beginning to peek through the half shut blinds.

I felt my finger again, and smiled, cupping his face with my hand and running my fingers gently through his beard. I admired how the ring glimmered in the sun, and how peaceful Murray looked with it all.

He stirred, slowly opening his eyes and smiling gently at me. "Hey you." He pulled me closer.

"Hi."

"You are looking mighty fine this morning, Mrs. Bauman."

His lips met mine, gently intertwining our legs and held me to him.

"I mean," he started when we pulled apart, "I know it's not official yet, but..."

I cut him off with my lips on his. "It is what it is, Mr. Bauman." He smiled.

"You know, I think we should stay like this all day. Don't go anywhere, make some waffles or something; we can put in the VHS for The Muppet Movie because as much as I despise it, I know how much you love it and I'm willing to put it on as long as you promise to snuggle."

I laughed, running my fingers gently through his beard. "I love you, Murray Bauman."

"I love you too, (Y/N) Bauman." He paused for a moment, smiling to himself. "I really like how that sounds. Your name with mine, I mean, wow. It's practically a revelatory experience."

I chuckled, and he kissed my nose.

"I could get used to that." He whispered. "(Y/N) Bauman."

Eventually, we did get up and he decided we needed chocolate chip waffles. So there we were, in the kitchen, making the batter to Jackie Wilson's Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher and Higher. Murray tied an apron around me, then tying his around himself and doing his little dance with me.

There was a special story to the aprons - he had his original apron that he had bought when visiting Europe once, but the second apron I had made for his birthday just last year. I had quilted it, with the help of his mom, and when I had gifted it to him, I had been so nervous. It had so many imperfections, and I knew it wouldn't ever compare to the one he had gotten in Europe.

However, the moment Murray laid eyes on the apron, his eyes filled with tears. I was afraid at first that I had offended him, but he took me into his arms and kissed me warmly.

"This is the most beautiful apron I have ever laid eyes on. Thank you so much, lover, this means the world and more to me." He took it out of its wrapping, holding it up in all its glory. "Okay so now we need to bake something."

At the incredulous look I gave him, he quickly reaffirmed, "I know it's 9:00 at night, but such a beautiful apron must be put to work. How do you feel about Baklava?"

And that was just the beginning - he never took this apron off when we were in the kitchen together - I was in turn given stewardship over the European apron. But he insisted on using the apron I had made him, becoming genuinely obsessed with it and becoming incredibly distressed when it became dirty or something would splash on it. (Which is why vodka is the superior alcohol, because it doesn't stain, Murray reminded me)

So here we were, making chocolate chip waffles in our aprons, respectively.

The first batch made it into the waffle maker, and his arms found their way to my waist.

"How are you feeling, lover?"

"I am feeling pretty good this morning."

Murray hummed, bringing his lips to mine.

"Glad to hear it."

We went through the first waffles, and put the rest of the batter in the waffle iron and waited again.

"Murray, don't you have karate today at one?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I do. But I'll stay home, I want to make sure you're taken care of."

I smiled. "I appreciate that love, I really do. But I'm doing alright, and I know how much you love karate. I will be okay for a couple hours while you're gone."

"You sure? I will stay if you need me to."

"I am sure, Murray. You can go to karate and I will be okay." I leaned up and kissed his nose, caressing his neck with my hand, then moving a little to open the waffle maker to pull out the last ones.

"I still don't know how you can always tell right when they're done."

We finished the waffles, and Murray got ready to leave for karate.

"Alright, so let me reconfirm plans for tonight."

I nodded, trying to hide my smile. He was trying to mask his concern about leaving me as best he could, but wasn't doing it so well.

"I'll get home and do the ice bath, we make chicken Alfredo, play a few rounds of Uno, put the Muppet Movie in and go to bed, right?"

"Spot on, love. Didn't miss a beat."

He chuckled. "Good. Just want to make sure everything is in order." We met in the entryway, and he pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I will see you after 3."

"See you then."

I spent the two hours he was gone cleaning - starting the dishwasher, sweeping the floor, putting things away. It had been a long couple of days, and I finally felt like doing something around the house. Murray had always been so helpful with accomplishing house work - he was never the type to just leave me to do it by myself.

I had noticed that he had picked up most of what we had left lying around the last few days - he had even started a load of laundry, which I finished while he was gone.

Towards 3, I was cleaning the bathroom and found a box of pregnancy tests I had bought a few months before. I took a moment and held it to my chest, letting a few tears fall. I had pretty much come to accept this new reality, but it wasn't going to be smooth sailing, and I knew that.

I heard the front door open, and soon Murray's hand was on my shoulder. He gave the top of my head a kiss, then whispering "We will get through this together, love. It's okay to take a moment."

He helped me up off my knees and into his arms.

"I've got ya, (Y/N). I've got ya."

I threw the box away, and he led me into the living room. "Now, tonight we're going to have fun." He looked around, seeing all the cleaning that had been done. "Goodness gracious, lover. Looks like I may have to fight you for the little housewife trophy. I mean, I've really got to up my game."

I laughed, and he met my lips with his again. "Granted, I think you'll make a pretty little housewife."

I smirked, and the telephone announced another missed call. "You stay right here, I'll be back."

Murray called the number back, addressing Joyce and making his way to the freezer to get the ice.

"I have karate from one to three on Fridays. " He turned, facing my direction. "Hey lover, we're going to need to go get more ice!"

I assumed Joyce asked about me, because he made eye contact with me and smiled. "She's doing okay. We've had a bit of a rough go this week with some stuff, but we'll be okay." He paused to hear her response, then scoffed a bit. "No, we're not having relationship problems. We... she... no we're not breaking up with each other, Joyce. My heavens. Now, before we get carried away, let's address your doll situation."

While Murray continued his conversation, I continued to clean the house. I had it pretty much how I wanted, but I finished nonetheless. He was soon out of his ice bath, wandering around in a towel telling her to "smash the doll" and freaking out when she wasn't responding. He went upstairs and changed, and came back down talking to Joyce in a hushed tone. He sat in the rocking chair, and I took it on myself to gently work out the knots in his shoulders.

"You really think Hop could still be alive?"

She said something, and he sighed. He turned slightly to look at me, his eyes softening. "You want my help, don't you?" He said as more of a statement than a question. After she responded, Murray put his free hand on mine. "We'll see what we can do - look at flights and such... No Joyce, we can pay for it ourselves. No, just... fine. I'll let you know when we're getting in."

He hung up, kissing my hand.

I smiled at him. "Sounds like we have a busy weekend ahead of us. It'll be nice to see Joyce again - I've missed her."

Murray stood and held me to him. "Yeah. But first, we have alfredo."

He hovered close by as he handed me all of the things to make it. It was a dish I took pride in, because Murray enjoyed it so much - and really only enjoyed the way I made it.

"Sorry, I forgot we don't have the actual Alfredo pasta so we just have bow tie." I mumbled gently.

He kissed the top of my head, my back flush with his chest. "That's alright, love. Pasta is pasta."

This time, we sat at the table and ate, while he filled me in on everything that the phone call had entailed.

"Okay - I think we can have ourselves up and packed and out the door by 9:30, that should put us at about 11:30 when we arrive there. We'll have to adjust to the time change, of course, but I think..." I was interrupted with Murray's lips on mine.

"You know something - you're just darn cute when you get focused. But I do see your point, and I agree. Up and out the door by 9:30."

I smiled. "Which means, we can't stay up late playing Uno or watching The Muppet Movie."

He grumbled slightly at this, taking my left hand in his, playing lightly with the ring. "As frustrated as that makes me, you're right." Our eyes met. "I'm sorry, this weekend was supposed to be about you."

I gave his hand a little squeeze. "Murray, it's alright. We help Joyce, we can come back home. It looks like you've gotten out of watching the Muppets once again." I smirked.

He chuckled. "You make a good point there, Mrs. Bauman." Murray paused at this. "Damn it."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry; don't be worried, lover. Nothings wrong, I was just realizing we'll have to postpone any sort of wedding till later and not just elope like I had been planning."

I tilted my head, smiling facetiously. "Oh? We were planning on eloping, now were we?"

Murray set his fork down, pulling his chair closer to mine as his arms came around me. "Yeah. And then we're going to board a plane to somewhere exotic for a week because heaven knows we don't have to be in our twenties to have a proper honeymoon." His lips met mine, hungrily pulling me closer to him. This went on for a few minutes, until we pulled apart at the ringing of the telephone. He rolled his eyes, smiling when I laughed at his reaction.

He stood up and answered it, and I tried for only a few moments to decipher who it was.

"Mom. Do you need something? I'm just finishing up dinner... you want to do what? I can't just..." he looked to me, motioning to come over where he was. "She's here, yes."

I put my hands on his sides, leaning into his touch.

"No, Mom. I'm not... I've just... you know what, I'll just let you talk to her and she can answer your question." Murray handed me the phone, and I raised my eyebrows at him, making him chuckle as he leaned close enough to hear the call.

"Hello, Mrs... I'm sorry, could you repeat that question for me?"

"Has my son asked you to marry him yet?"

I stayed silent for a moment, looking up at Murray as he just smirked, slightly shrugging his shoulders in response.

"It's funny you mention that, actually. He just asked me last night and we made it official."

"Oh, good! I have been telling him that he needs to ask you ever since he brought you over for the first time four years ago for Christmas. It's about time he did something."

Murray laughed, my lips meeting with his.

"So when's the wedding?"

Murray took the phone from me at this point. "I don't know, Mom. We have a trip we're going on tomorrow so it will have to at least be after that."

"Murray Bauman. You had better tell me when it's happening so I can fly out to be there. I don't want you doing any of that eloping that kids your age are doing nowadays."

"Mom, we're not kids. We will do whatever we..." I took the phone from him, which sent him into shock.

"We will make sure to give you a call, Mrs. Bauman. I wouldn't want you to miss it for the world."

"Thank you, (Y/N). That's very sweet of you." At this remark, I handed the phone back to Murray.

"Is there anything else you need, Mom? No? Okay then, talk to you soon, bye."

Murray set the phone in its spot on the wall, and sighed, gently touching his forehead to mine. "We got lucky that we got out so soon - she would have talked our ears off. Which would have been quite unfortunate, because your ears are adorable."

I laughed, nudging my nose against his. "We should get to bed. Maybe we can leave a little earlier."

He hummed, pressing his lips to mine. "I suppose we could."

We ended up playing a few rounds of Uno, and then went to bed.

——————

Around 8:30, the alarm went off. Murray reached over me with his arm and hit snooze, and we snuggled closer together for a moment.

"Murray, we need to get up so we can help Joyce."

He mumbled, pressing his lips to my neck.

"Murray, love..."

"Maybe we can just call and say we're sick."

"Or you can just catch up on sleep when we get on the plane."

He hummed, slowly extracting himself to his edge of the bed. I sat up and crawled to hug him from behind. We remained this way for a few minutes, and he sighed.

"Alright. Let's get this show on the road."

As we had planned, we were packed and out the door to the airport by 9, then on the plane by 9:30.

Murray put the blanket over the two of us and moved the armrests so his hand could rest on my leg. We fell asleep, and were only awoken when they announced we were getting ready to land.

He held my hand all the way through the airport, through baggage claim, and up until we got to the taxi. He opened the door for me, and went to go put the luggage in the trunk. After doing that, he got into the cab, putting the same protective hand on my leg.

"Alright let's go, this is life or death, snap snap!"

The taxi ride was short, probably mostly because he spent most of it gazing into my eyes and trying to make me blush as much as he possibly could.

We arrived at Joyce's house, we paid the driver and he again opened the door for me, collected our luggage and made our way to the front door.

Joyce opened it when we knocked, and she about screamed with elation.

"(Y/N)! It's so good to see you!" She said as she hugged me.

The last time Joyce and I had seen each other was when she and Hopper had come with the Russian scientist to our house. I knew she had quite a rough time with Hoppers death and moving a few states over, and I could tell there was something going on, but I didn't press that quite yet.

"Hey Murray, it's good to see you too. Thank you guys for coming, you have no idea how much I appreciate it." She invited us in, and led us to the guest room.

"Sorry it's not much, I did what I could."

"No, Joyce. This is wonderful. Thank you." I said as Murray put our bag down. Joyce took my hands in hers, and brushed against the ring.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Don't tell me you guys got engaged and you didn't even tell me!" She looked at Murray, and he put his hands up in defense.

"Hey, I was trying to help you figure out the doll situation, I didn't have time to mention us."

She laughed, taking a good look at my ring. "It's so pretty - I'm so happy for you two!!"

"Thanks Joyce, we're excited too." I smiled as Murray kissed the top of my head, taking me into his side.

"So where's this ominous note you told me about?" Murray asked.

We went downstairs, and Joyce handed him the note. The next few hours were spent discussing the note, what to do with the note, and deciding to call the number. Murray set up his equipment, and Joyce had the conversation with whoever it was. He gave instructions, and hung up. We discussed plans and what to do, and they decided to go to Russia.

Joyce went out to get groceries for the boys and El while she'd be gone, and Murray started making risotto.

I found the apron Joyce had mentioned we could use, and tied it around Murray. I hugged him from behind, resting my head against his back as he cut shallots and mushrooms and bacon.

"...you wanna talk about it?" Murray asked, and started moving some of the chopped food into a bowl.

"I wish I could go with you. But I know I can't."

Murray sighed softly. He had finished the knife work, and moved towards the sink as I stayed across the kitchen for a moment. He washed his hands, then making his way back to where I was.

"I know, lover. I'm sorry. But I need to keep you safe. It's my top priority."

I nodded, and he cupped my face in his hands.

"(Y/N), please, look at me."

I made eye contact, and those darn traitor tears made their way down my cheek and Murray pulled me into him and held me tight, burying his face in my hair. "I promise I will make it home to you."

"You'd better. Or I'm going to find you, and kick your ass all the way back home for you." This had us both chuckling, and he pulled away just enough to touch our foreheads together.

"As soon as I get back, we plan the wedding. As small as we can get it. I'm not waiting any longer."

I nodded slightly, meeting his lips in the middle as he pulled me closer to him.

Soon enough, a car pulled into the driveway and we pulled apart, Murray giving me the classic smirk as he began to actually begin the risotto.

Joyce came back in, and we made a salad and cut the rolls she had bought from the store in half. Soon enough, everything was made, the salmon was finishing in the oven, and the risotto was in its final stages as the kids came back home.

One could practically feel the tension emanating from the younger 3, but Jonathan and his friend seemed almost virtually untouched by whatever it was.

We sat down at the table and had dinner with the Byers clan, and the kids took the news about as well as we had assumed - even though they really had no idea that it wasn't a conference.

I leaned into Murray as the older two cleared the plates and did the dishes.

He chuckled, putting his forehead against the top of my temple. "You seem to be ready for bed, my love."

I hummed, yawning.

"Let's get to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

I walked up the stairs with Murray's arm around me, and made it into the bedroom staggering a little bit as I struggled to stay awake. We both got into our night clothes.

"I'll let you sleep in tomorrow morning, I'll have to get up and go early."

"No, Mur, please, wake me up when you do. I want to see you off."

He walked over and kissed my forehead, helping me get my second arm through my shirt. "Alright, lover. I'll get you up with me."

We climbed into bed, snuggling up next to each other, and I drifted off to sleep.

After what felt like only a few hours, Murray's alarm went off, and I snuggled into him as he turned it off.

"Morning, love."

I yawned in response.

Murray got up and took his clothes into the bathroom, getting changed and coming back out to begin to put just his things in a separate duffle bag Joyce had leant him.

He went and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at his beard. I got up and sat on the counter, watching him intently.

"I'm considering shaving before we go, you know, to try and be less conspicuous. What do you think?" He stepped in between my swinging legs, and I intertwined my fingers in his beard.

"I think I'd miss it."

He smiled, touching our foreheads together.

Joyce's voice came from outside the bedroom door just a few feet away, asking if Murray was ready to go.

"Yeah, Joyce. I'll be right down." He said, kissing me once.

"See you in a few days, Bald Eagle. Take care of yourself."

He playfully rolled his eyes, smiling wider than before as his cheeks heated. "You take care of yourself, lover. I'll be back soon." Murray kissed my forehead, leaving the room with my hand in his.

They got in the taxi, and I stood on the cement and watched them go, already counting down the moments to their safe return.

Within just a few days, everything would be turned upside down.

It all started with El getting taken by the police. I had been her emotional support after what had happened at the skating rink, and considered being there for her my mission while we waited. But soon, she was gone and two men were watching us on house arrest - even though over half of us were adults.

This is where things really began to go downhill.

I was sitting in the basement with the boys, coming up with a plan to get out, when there were gunshots.

I jumped, clutching the strap of my duffel I had slung around my back. The feeling of danger and eminent disaster was tangible and hung in the air like smog.

I attempted to calm my breathing, and hid in the closet as the boys then went out the bedroom door after someone broke the window and followed the agent through the house. I checked for any more intruders, and noticed the attention was all at the front of the house. I took the opportunity to get out the broken back window, jumping the fences for what felt like forever. Finally giving up where I felt like would be far enough away, I slumped against the fence of someone's backyard.

I began to catch my breath, and realized how upsetting this all was. I had just seen blood and death in that house, I didn't have any way to contact the boys, we didn't know where El was, and Murray and Joyce were still up north.

Almost immediately, the tear ducts began to do their work to attempt to process what had just happened. I curled up, forehead to my knees and cried.

A little old lady came out her back door with a golden retriever at her heels. I didn't hear them at first, until I felt the dog licking my arm.

"Hello dear, are you alright?" I looked up into the eyes of this sweet woman, and cried more, shaking my head.

She put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and offered to take me inside, to which I nodded and walked with her into the house.

The door opened and she told me to take a seat on the couch, and that she'd be back with tea.

The dog sat in front of me, resting it's head on my lap. It calmed me considerably, and soon, the lady was back with tea.

We had a nice chat, and I learned her name was Della. She told me about her family and about the dog - who I learned was called Bear.

I smiled as she finished. "I suppose you're wondering why I ended up in your backyard."

She put a reassuring hand on my knee. "I'm sure there's a good reason, but I understand how lovers quarrels work, dear." She motioned to the duffel on the back rug.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It wasn't a lovers quarrel, actually. My fiancé is in Alaska on a business trip."

"Crazy in-laws? I've had that one before too."

Before I went to say no again, I realized the actual answer would freak her out and most likely put her in danger, so I decided a lie would be best.

I nodded. "I mean, his parents aren't crazy, it's his extended family that is." This statement was true - I had met his extended family just a few select times and they were absolutely bonkers. "We were playing a game of cops and robbers, and they get really intense so I had to get away as fast as I could, you know. We'd been playing games all week at home because they won't let us leave the house, so I had planned to get away when this game came up. They found out I was going to try and leave and were threatening me with all sorts of things. I'm so sorry for intruding."

"It's no issue, dear. Bear and I love having company over. Besides, family drama is a perfect reason to get away."

She then insisted I stay with her at least for a few days, to "let the waters cool", as she put it. I tried to protest, but decided it was a good idea to take a few days to process it all.

From there, she made me chicken pot pie, that she claimed was "the cure to any ailment of the dramatic kind", and she was 100% correct. She later wrote the recipe down on a card for me, and snuck it into my duffel bag.

We then made chocolate chip cookies together, and when I mentioned the possibility of going home the next day, she piled the majority of said cookies in a Tupperware and told me I had to take them with me.

That night was the first I had slept decently since Murray and Joyce had left. Besides, the dog snuggled up with me and kept me calm. I think he could sense how anxious I had been, which I appreciated.

Despite thinking about leaving on Tuesday, I ended up making the decision to stay till Friday - I knew Murray would call me if he was home before then, but knowing that things most likely wouldn't go exactly to plan, and being fearful of returning home alone - with the anxiety that the government would know who I was and where I lived - I stayed till Friday.

I learned how to embroider - another set of things Della decided to send me home with. We spent time outside in the garden, did lots of embroidering, and by the time I had planned to go home, she knew practically everything about Murray and insisted on getting an invitation to the wedding. I chuckled, knowing Murray wouldn't overly love that we couldn't just hurry up and make it official, but I knew he'd understand eventually.

The days went by so slowly, but Friday arrived and I was sad to go, but excited to get home.

Della called the taxi service for me and everything, and I hugged her on my way out the door, promising to send that invitation when we made them.

The flight home wasn't too crazy, and I felt more relief than anything when the taxi pulled in front of the house.

I used the spare key and entered, almost having a little panic attack because I was afraid it would be shot up like Joyce's house. But there wasn't the lingering smell of gunpowder, and everything was in its proper place.

I closed the door gently behind me, and took a deep breath. I felt safe again, and now I was just worried about Murray coming home safe - and Joyce and Hopper, too.

Friday night was spent alone - doing laundry and turning on a rerun of some show. I put the dishes away and made popcorn - I really didn't feel like doing a whole lot until I was sure Murray was safe.

Saturday, I woke up on the couch, and realized I had fallen asleep watching television. I hadn't wanted to move to the bed anyways - it wasn't ever the same when Murray was gone.

Around 4, I was turning the television set back on, and getting ready to think about making something to eat, and sat on the kitchen counter with some recipe cards.

The door handle was suddenly being unlocked, and I froze. I turned to see the door as it opened.

Before I saw anything, his voice was there. "(Y/N)? Are you home, lover?" He rounded the corner and closed the door, stopping when he saw me.

I gently smiled. It had taken my brain a second longer to process it was him because his beard was gone, but it was Murray alright.

He was home.

I almost couldn't believe we were both back home, after all that had just happened, and I think he felt the same, because we stared at each other for some time.

Murray made some very quick steps across the kitchen to stand between my swinging legs - almost the same way he had left me about a week ago - and I cupped his roughly shaven face between my hands as he leaned into them.

He touched our foreheads together, and I closed my eyes, just taking a moment to breathe him in as his arms came around me.

Our lips soon met, in a hungry attempt to be close to each other.

Barely remembering to breathe, we broke apart, foreheads still touching as we smiled.

"I thought you weren't going to shave your beard." I chuckled, making him laugh.

"It's a long story, lover. Can you still love me and my half shaven face?"

I gently ran my fingers through his hair. "Yes, Murray. I can."

"The boys called and told Joyce what had happened - are you okay?"

I pulled him closer, into a tight hug that he understood. I didn't feel like going into detail, but Murray knew that.

"I'm glad you're safe." He said, kissing my shoulder as he nuzzled back into it.

"I'm glad you're safe too, Mur."

There was a few more minutes of silence, until Murray pulled apart again.

"I'm going to go unpack - and then we are going to relax and ignore any phone calls that come in whatsoev..."

At this, the phone rang, and I chuckled. Murray rolled his eyes, picking it up to answer it.

"It's only because I said something... hey, I'm a little busy right now... Mom, nice to hear from you." He stepped back to where he was, and I put my arms around him with my ear to his chest as his free arm came around my back. His hand soothingly ran the length of my spine as he continued to talk.

"Yes, I recognize it's the time specified that you could call. No, we haven't been ignoring your calls - we just got back from that trip I told you about." At this remark, he kissed the top of my head. "We haven't had time to start any wedding planning, but we will keep you in the loop as we do, I promise... no, it's not a half promise it's... mom, I haven't been drinking, and yes I'll remember. Good gravy, woman."

I smiled. Even though the world was literally on its way to falling apart with Hawkins as the epicenter, maybe we could have a touch of normalcy in the midst of it.

"Mom, I'm being completely serious, I... yes, she's here. You want to talk to her? Alright then." Murray handed me the phone, and put his other arm around me to fully embrace me against him.

"(Y/N), you make sure he keeps that promise. I trust that boy, but I trust you with things like this more."

I chuckled. "Yes, Mrs. Bauman. I'll make sure he does."

We said goodbye, and I put the phone on the counter. It stayed this way for a few minutes, until Murray spoke up.

"I'm going to unpack - and then we really will ignore phone calls. I'm done talking to people - with you as the exception, of course."

I nodded, kissing his cheek. "I'll be on the couch. I'm sure there's something on we can watch."

He kissed my forehead, and helped me off the counter before he went upstairs to unpack and I assumed, to then start laundry.

My ears almost seemed to flinch a little when I heard the dresser drawer open. I knew we really just needed to sand it down, but a new dresser would eventually be in order anyways. I heard Murray curse under his breath, and smiled as his voice came from upstairs.

"Hey lover, how would you like to go buy a new dresser in lieu of making dinner?"

---

previous part - 500 Miles ♡ next part - TBD

[oddaodd]

· Heedless Words That Numb The Heart ·

Request: By anon “Regarding that last text post you reblogged, could you write something where Tommy gets angry (he doesn’t really yell, he just snaps) at his very sensitive wife and she gets very upset so he wants to apologize but let’s be honest he sucks at talking so he tries to make it up to her somehow (you can choose whatever you want but I saw somewhere that Tommy’s love language was physical touch so 🤷‍♀️) I’m sorry if it doesn’t make a lot of sense I’m frozen so it’s hard to think lol but thanks anyway 💕”

Author’s note: I feel this turned out a lot more sad than intended, I just couldn’t help myself. Irregardless, I hope you like it and i wish you the loveliest of days ❤️

Warnings: season 4 SPOILERS, mentions of death and sad themes. 

·

Tommy was being reckless, more than usual after John died. That was just the way he was, his emotions rarely manifested themselves in the form of tears and raw vulnerability, he much preferred numbing his mind with intricate heedless plans and the occasional drug. Y/n however got a glimpse of that vulnerably when he came out of the morgue after seeing John’s lifeless body.

“We should talk about it, Tommy. it’s not like nothing happened” she suggested after a particularly tense family meeting. Everyone had left afterwards, leaving only her and Tommy in the shop.

“I don’t need to” he said clearing his throat as took a cigarette to his lips and smoothly lit it.

“Ignoring it won’t make it go away, you know?” She threaded lightly.

“Oh really? Because that is  exactly what I was hoping. What ever will I do now that I know that ignoring it won’t bring John back, eh?” He spat sarcastically.

His tone taunting and patronizing, making Y/n feel stupid.

In her own mind  she was in no place to feel hurt not when the one who needed comfort was him, but she couldn’t help but feel the burn of his sharp words not even when she knew they came from a place of pain.  Thinking of what to say next she stared at him wearing a puzzled expression. An expression should have told Tommy about the effect of his words, an expression that begged him to stop but he continued.

“What would you know about loss anyway?” He asked daggers in his eyes as he took an aggressive drag from his cigarette  “you’ve never lost anything in your life so don’t come lecturing me about how I should be dealing with it”

Her lip trembled a bit “Alright”

Giving up she walked out of the room and then the building. If he didn’t want to talk she wouldn’t make him. She had never been good with confrontation and he knew it. Y/n was a very sensitive woman and the moment she walked out of the room, Tommy felt the weigh of his reply pressing down on his chest, she was only trying to help after all.

Her unsure steps walked her to The Garrison where she was welcomed with a couple of drinks from Harry as they engaged in conversation at the bar. At some point he payed his condolences over John after pouring a pint of beer for a man and Y/n felt a pang of pain shoot through her body. Maybe she was the one who needed  to talk about it, she had never been good handling death.

So, Harrys comprehensive ear was the one that received all of Y/n’s qualms regarding her brother in law’s death. Some tears were spilled but nobody dared to stare for long, people even avoiding going up to the bar to ask Harry for a refill because  they all knew the crying woman was Thomas Shelby’s wife.

When she arrived home a few hours later she was surprised to see Tommy already there, drinking whiskey by the fireplace. A sense of relief washed over his body the moment she stepped over the threshold. He knew the Changrettas couldn’t get to her in Small Heath, but he wasn’t sure if she would want to be in his presence after his harsh words.

“Im going to bed” was all she said before  making her way upstairs and into Tommys old room with heavy legs, a few moments later he was there with her, asking her to look at him with a tender voice.

Uncertain eyes met his turbulent ones as his finger softly traced her cold cheek.

“Im sorry” he said “I shouldn’t have… “

But the Y/n’s index finger flew to his lips with a soft “shhh”  The alcohol behind the abrupt action  that stopped him from saying anything else.

“It’s alright, Tom” she said “we don’t have to talk about it”

And then she let herself rest against his chest, he immediately engulfed her in his warm embrace before helping her get into bed, holding her close against him through the night. When Y/n woke up the next morning with the premonitory ghost of a slight headache, she was relieved to find a glass of water and a pill laying on the nightstand next to the bed.

Tommy was nowhere to be seen, but when she made her way downstairs she found breakfast on the table along with a note from him saying he wouldn’t be long.

The food felt like a piece of heaven, the exact same breakfast she had taught him to make when they had just started dating. A lone butterfly fluttered in Y/n’s stomach at the realization that he still remembered how to make it.

He picked her up a few hours later and drove to an open field where John’s funeral would take place. As the caravan burnt Tommy’s hand went to hold hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. His thumb tracing occasional circles against the back of her hand.

They had Christmas dinner at Charlie’s yard after the ceremony. Everyone seemed lost, unable to ignore the wailing of an empty chair, but being together after almost a year of not even talking to each other summoned a light mood to settle over the table as everyone ate.

Soon enough, conversations and drunken banter began flowing through the food Charlie and Johnny Dogs had cooked. Y/n smiled at the toasts and laughed occasionally at the things that Finn said and for a second it almost felt as it all did before Tommy’s plan from the previous year tore the family apart.

The weight of Tommys hand resting on her thigh and occasional peck to the lips provided Y/n with a warm feeling of love. Resting her head on his shoulder, they watched the urban skyline of small heath turn orange and then blue.

That night he made love to her in his old bed and just before she succumbed to sleep after an exhausting day Tommy’s raspy voice disrupted the silence that had settled amongst them.

A small “I love you” was pressed against her soft lips.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[ajax1230]

I’m rewatching AOT before Part 2 of the Final Season airs TOMORROW and here are some things that stuck out to me:

1: LEVI IS SUCH A DICK 😂- disclaimer, I love this man with all my everything. Shawty a lil baddie, he my lil boo thang 😏 but YALL the way he talks to Eren is too much! And yes, I obviously knew this before but the fact that he is specifically a dick to Eren really jumped out at me. Called Armin and Hange the ‘brain trust’ and Mikasa a kick ass body guard, then he looks at Eren, who probably has a concussion and just fist fought a Titan that was his good friend. I mean this FIFTEEN YEAR OLD is really going through it all and puberty, and Levi has the gall to look at him and say “don’t screw it up”. First of all there wouldn’t even be an ‘it’ if Eren weren’t there but that’s beside the point. Lmfao but really I guess it’s his way of showing affection, still it kinda kicked me in the teeth on the rewatch. Don’t come for me or my McDonald Toy sized king, he’s an asshole but we’re still loving it.

2- I love Hange even more now- After the Utguard Castle incident, Eren is in Titan form rocking the ‘Armored Titian’s’ shit. Hange comes down and perches on Erens shoulder to give him strategy talk. He looks at Hange with his big ass head and nods. Hange gets red and does the squeal. I THOUGHT it was adorable! That must have been their dream to have a Titan finally speak to them after all the experiments and shit they had to do. Now how Chris Hansen feels about the noise Hange made, I guess we will never know.

3-Erwin weird asf.- I gotta say it. He’s my Responsible Daddy and whatnot but dude needs some serious rehab in the social department. First of all, what human has that perfect posture with all that gear on? It’s ridiculous. Secondly, again Chris Hansen might have a few words about how he grabs on these kids shoulders and asks them existentially vague questions. “Hey lil mama lemme whisper in ya ear-“ COMMANDER IF YOU DONT TAKE YOUR SEVEN FOOT TALL ASS AND DO SOME WORK. Aren’t there condolence cards you should be writing out? Anyways, I feel like Levi’s still so salty at Erwin (in prior seasons) cause anytime Erwin tells him to do anything Levi just does the sassiest arm cross like “why tho?” In conclusion, Erwin is scary as fuck but I’d still take on that Spooky Dicc no matter the season. MOVING ON

4-Ymir.- Ymir, Ymir, YMIR. Honestly, she was too hot for what they did to her. Down right dirty. And we were ROBBED OF HISTORIA AND YMIR KISS SCENE. There were so many opportunities! It would have been cinematic glory. I’m down with everything her mean ass stood for, even though we would have had to fight in person, I feel like she would have read my soul to me. The thought is so scary I might throw up. Did her dirty, want a redo and I want it now.

5- last one for now, but the fight between Mikasa and Annie.- WHY! I think I repressed the memory from when I originally watched the series but I forgot they just leave us on a cliffhanger. I believe there is a manga/spin off that may talk about it but I’m not sure. Either way as an anime watcher I’m crying. I was ready to see Mikasa unload on Raggedy Anne, especially after calling her an animal and laying up on her man like that. Justice for Mikasa (on so many levels but for now this specifically)

That’s all for now, I may rant more coherently later if I feel inclined but I just wanted to screech into the void before the new season starts up and I forget these little moments. AOT is so special to me this season is going to be so hard to watch but everything ends eventually so let’s enjoy it while it lasts!

[katblu42]

Tie Me to the Moon

Installment 4 (of 5) in my Whump Wheel spinning experiment. This spin was for John and gave me Cuddling For Comfort and Cemetery.

It is another Young Tracys fic, but it requires some WARNINGS as it deals with grief/mourning, funerals and of course a cemetery. I'm also tagging for social anxiety, sensory overload and panic attack, although I'm not entirely sure exactly what I'm putting John through. If there's any additional warning or tag I need please let me know (or if these ones don't hit the mark).

Possibly more angst than whump.

The day started early. Scott had spoken with John and Virgil the night before about how much he was relying on them both to help get Alan and Gordon ready, since Grandma and Dad would both have a lot on their plate. So, John had set the alarm for 6am to give them time to wake themselves up before tackling the tinies.

By 9am all five boys were awake and fed and dressed in their Sunday best, shoes shined and hair combed awaiting final inspection before the cars arrived to take them to the church. Normally it would have been Dad who inspected the troops before such an important occasion but, like many other things over the last week or so, today the job was taken on by Scott. He left no stray hair or speck of lint unscrutinised, while their father was barely able to do more than glance at his boys and give Scott a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way out the front door.

Scott decided it would be best if he went in the lead car with Dad. It was the one that had been fitted with the kiddie seats for Gordon and Alan, and Scott could sit between them and keep them settled. That left John and Virgil to ride in the second car with Grandma. The car trip was mostly silent, but Grandma told them they both looked very smart and did her best to smile despite clear indications she was holding back more tears.

As they neared the church it was impossible not to notice the large number of parked vehicles, some still offloading passengers. John let out a large sigh as their car pulled up in front of the chapel. The soft murmurings and general bustle of the gathering crowd penetrated their insulated little bubble even before the driver opened the door to let Grandma out. Virgil waited until he’d caught John’s eye and received a nod before opening his door so both boys could exit on the same side of the car.

The kindly young driver from the funeral home seemed to be keeping most of the well-meaning mourners at bay as the family gathered and were solemnly led into the church and ushered to the front pew. John tried to focus on the flowers, the quiet organ music, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass rather than the coffins or even the photos of Mom and Grandpa, and definitely not the endless stream of people filling the rows of seats behind them. It was a slightly tight fit getting all seven of them in the one pew, even with Alan on Dad’s (and later Scott’s) lap, but John was glad of the warm press of Virgil on his left and Gordon on his right.

The service was a simple, no-frills affair with the Minister officiating, but friends and family doing most of the talking. John listened through Dad and Grandma retelling stories he’d heard before, but there were little details revealed that he had never known. The anecdotes shared by the others who stepped up to the pulpit microphone – one of Grandpa’s farming neighbours, and an old friend of Mom’s from school – almost felt like stories about other people. It didn’t feel like they were talking about the people John had lost.

For John losing Grandpa was like a constellation of stars going missing from the night sky. It was Grandpa that had told him people are all made of the same stuff as the stars. He had been a quiet, watchful presence in his life, providing light and joy whenever he looked up and saw that twinkle in Grandpa’s eye. Like Ursa Major and Polaris, Grandpa was always there guiding him, giving direction when needed, but never wanting to overstep or overshadow his parents. Not the brightest light in his orbit, but an important, comforting presence that meant John always knew his place in the world.

Mom had been the sun at the centre of his life, his family, his everything. Without her all the light and warmth was gone from the world. Instead of a regular (though slightly wonky) orbit his world now felt like it was tumbling through space and gravity was constantly shifting. One moment he was too heavy to move and the next he was so light might be flung out into space. Night and day and seasons, years and everything he measured his life by had been connected to his Mom – waking him and tucking him into bed, making sure he dressed warm enough or wore sunscreen or had his raincoat, keeping track of birthdays and holidays and school excursion days were all her.

During the service no one spoke of Mom and Grandpa like that.

There was music. One of Mom’s favourite piano pieces. Virgil had wanted to be able to play it today, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to even sit at the piano, much less play at all since the accident. So a recording had been found and it was played as a backing track to the slideshow that flickered through image after image of happy memories telling part of two life stories.

There were prayers. Reassuring words from the minister about heaven and God’s love, and the love we should all share with each other. John wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about heaven, or God calling Mom and Grandpa home to his kingdom.

There was a poem read out by one of Mom’s work colleagues. It was something about not crying or being sad because they were gone, but being happy because they had lived. Many of the people in the room were obviously ignoring the advice – his immediate family included. There were a good many wet handkerchiefs and tissues in hands, a great deal of suppressed sobs and eye rubbing, and a few sleeves swiped across cheeks before the service was over.

Scott and Dad were among the pall bearers who carried the coffins out of the church and onto the waiting machinery that would take care of their final movements. John and his brothers and Grandma were the first of the mourners to follow in the sombre procession. Only a small number of people were permitted to follow the hovering gurneys across the grass and through the little cemetery to the waiting square-sided pits. Just family and a few close friends to witness the way the machinery slowly and smoothly lowered each coffin down into the earth, hear the minister recite the final ritual words, and each place a flower or a sprinkling of dirt atop the coffins in a last goodbye.

The rest of the large crowd had been encouraged to make their way into the Sunday School hall where the wake was to take place. Refreshments had been generously laid out on the tables inside. More photographs of both lost loved ones were on display throughout the room, along with so many more flowers and a large number of cards. But many of the people in attendance that day were still milling about outside the church buildings when John and his family returned through the cemetery for the wake.

John’s feet dragged as he approached the gentle hubbub of mingling friendly faces with sympathetic expressions. He could pick out people he knew well if he let himself concentrate, but the sheer number of individuals he was heading towards was a little overwhelming. They didn’t make it inside the hall before the onslaught began. Almost everyone wanted to say something, speak of sympathy, tell a story, offer “any help you need.” So many wanted to reach out, hold a hand or squeeze an arm, some came in for full-on hugs, cheek kisses and loud, teary exclamations of how sad it all was.

John lost his Dad and Grandma to the throng faster than he thought possible, but before he could be swept up in it himself he was thrown a lifeline. There was a familiar presence by his side, a brush of hand against hand, or specifically pinky against pinky – a request and an offer. John grabbed hold of Virgil’s hand and held fast, tethering himself to his brother like an anchor.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened or how long it had taken, but eventually they all made it inside the Sunday School hall. John was only aware of Virgil’s hand in his, the rest was a blur of faces, voices, bodies. Virgil dealt with anyone who stopped them to offer their personal condolences, listening to what they had to say and responding politely but managing to keep the interactions brief and shielding John from most of the attention. Somehow they made their way to a cluster of chairs where Grandma and Dad were seated, Alan in his father’s lap, still accepting condolences from well-wisher after well-wisher.

John was aware of sweat beading on his forehead as Virgil told him to take a seat next to Grandma for a bit, and then his brother disappeared into the crowd to go and fetch Grandma a cup of tea. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers as he tried to look around the room. His eyes fell on Scott standing a few feet away, taking all the sympathetic social interactions in his stride, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, accepting embraces.

John’s mouth was dry and he wondered if he could make it across the room to grab a drink from the trestle table against the wall, but there was a sea of bodies he’d have to negotiate in between. For a moment his vision blurred and the vague images of people swam in a dizzying fashion before he could find something to focus on. Alan had obviously grown tired of the hair ruffling and cheek pinching and wriggled free of his Dad’s grasp, and was now trying to run through the small gaps between grown up pairs of legs. Gordon was keeping an eye on him – in between snaffling more cakes and cookies from the food table. John watched the terrible two until they were obscured by too many featureless figures.

Despite the late-winter-cool of the day, the church hall felt uncomfortably warm. The large space with its vaulted ceiling, tall, wide windows and polished wooden floorboards felt dark and gloomy and so very crowded. And the non-stop undercurrent of murmuring voices appeared to build in an unbearable crescendo John could not shut out. Too many bodies, too many voices, too much, too close . . . he needed space, he needed air, he had to get out!

Virgil saw his brother get up and hurry a little unsteadily to the exit as he came back with Grandma’s tea. He tried to keep an eye on the red-head so he could follow, but he had to excuse himself to Grandma and Dad, make his way over to Scott, politely interrupt the conversation and whisper in his big brother’s ear.

“John’s bolted. I’m going after him.”

Scott acknowledged with a nod as his eyes darted to the door, already closed again after John’s escape. Virgil wasted no more time in following, but once outside it took him a moment to figure out which direction John had taken.

John had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to get away. His feet carried him across the gravel driveway and through the grass without him registering the change of surface. He ran through the little cemetery without seeing the tombstones he passed, slowing only when he approached the boundary marked with a low stone wall before a neat, tall hedge. Unable to go any farther he turned and wobbled dizzily. His vision narrowed leaving dull blurred impressions of light and shadow. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he sank down to the ground, sitting heavily, knees bent and pulled up towards his chest. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block it all out.

Virgil approached slowly, but without trying to hide the sound of his footsteps. He lowered himself to sit facing John, resisting the strong urge to reach out and touch him. Seeing his brother in such distress clawed at his heart. He couldn’t let him struggle through this alone.

“John?” He kept his voice quiet and hoped he could be heard despite the hands staying firmly pressed against ears. “I’m here with you. Just me. No one else is around.”

There was no noticeable response.

“If you can hear me, I need you to try and slow your breathing down a bit, John. Deep breath in,“ and Virgil inhaled, “and out nice and slow.” Virgil waited for a second, watching John’s shallow, ragged breathing for any change. “In,” another inhaled breath, “and out.”

As Virgil continued repeating the instruction like a mantra John’s breathing gradually began to even out into slower, deeper, more controlled breaths. He wasn’t sure, but he thought John’s vice-like grip over his ears might be relaxing a little too.

“You’re doing great, John. Keep focusing on your breathing. Keep listening. Hear the breeze whispering through the leaves? Did you hear those birds?”

John did hear the cry of a bird overhead, and an answering call a little farther away as his hands drifted away from his head. As he lowered them to limply rest on the ground beside him he heard a gentle gust of wind rustle the hedges, and he registered that it did indeed sound a bit like a whisper.

“The sun’s broken free of the clouds. Can you feel it on your face, John? Can you feel the wind in your hair? You do realise there’s dirt and leaves beneath your fingertips, right?”

John turned his focus where his brother’s voice directed it, feeling the warmth on the left side of his face, and the breeze toying with his hair. There was indeed leaf litter and slightly damp dirt beneath his flexing fingers.

“If you’re ready to open your eyes you’ll see the moon’s out. I like the way the moon looks in the day. Against the blue of the sky the shadows make it look almost see-through.”

Translucent. That would have been a better word for what Virgil was trying to say. The thought flitted through John’s mind as he let his eyes drift open and scan the sky until they latched onto the gibbous moon framed by scattered cumulous clouds. He was also aware there was irony in the way his brother was effectively using the moon to anchor him, to bring him back to earth and ground him in the here and now.

Virgil had stopped talking, leaving the wind and occasional twitters and cries of the birds to fill the silence as John watched the clouds dance around the moon. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him almost as tangibly as he could feel the damp earth he was sitting on and the cool stone of the wall at his back. Now feeling much calmer he took a deep breath and brought his gaze down from the sky to meet the concern and compassion contained in those warm, brown eyes.

“Welcome back.” A hint of a smile played across Virgil’s face as he spoke.

A quiet moment stretched between them. No words spoken, but information passing from brother to brother through eye contact alone.

Content that John was no longer caught in a spiral he couldn’t escape on his own, Virgil glanced over his shoulder towards the Sunday School hall.

“I should go back, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll come and find you when it’s time to go. Just don’t wander off or anything.”

John didn’t speak as he chanced his own glance back toward the ongoing wake. Then, as Virgil made a move to get up and leave, John reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay. Please?”

Virgil stopped and stared first at the fingers digging into his wrist, then into pleading, desperate aquamarine. He simply nodded and adjusted his position so he was sitting next to John, their shoulders touching. John loosened his grip on Virgil’s wrist but didn’t let go, so John’s arm looped around his knees and Virgil’s arm crossed his body to keep the connection. There was an almost imperceptible hesitation, but then simultaneously John leaned in towards his brother and Virgil wrapped his arm around John, pulling them into a secure embrace.

John finally let go of Virgil’s wrist, bringing his arm in close, grabbing a fistful of Virgil’s suit jacket and snuggling closer into his brother’s chest. This enabled Virgil to employ both arms in the hug. John rarely cuddled up like this with anyone, but all the times he could remember doing so were with Mom. His next intake of breath hitched at the realisation, and Virgil held a little tighter. The threat of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he was grateful that, while not the same as a cuddle from Mom, he was still able to find this level of safety and comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.

“I want her back,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow and drip onto Virgil’s jacket.

“Yeah. Me too.”

John heard the tears in Virgil’s voice, but he already knew his brother felt the same absence in their hug.

Neither boy could say how long they stayed out there, huddled together, holding tight while hot tears streaked their cheeks. Time may as well have stood still for all it mattered. Nothing else was important, just the feeling that this moment, however sad, was there’s alone to share until Scott came and found them to tell them it was time to go home.

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 5)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everybody! First and foremost, just want to thank those of you still on this journey with me. My motivation to write has been so much lower than I thought it would be, but I haven’t lost sight of what I want from this fic and I am happy to finally share a new installment. This chapter brings a last burst of road trip fluff and the build up to a big moment  – Emma’s introduction to Killian’s life in the MC. It’s going to be fun to explore these dynamics in the next few chapters, but for now I hope you will enjoy, and I can’t wait to see what you all think. Thanks so much for reading!

In the quiet, tranquil calm of a woodland morning, Killian watched the cabin bedroom fill with sunlight, bringing the softest golden glow to the rustic room where he and Emma had spent the night. Birds chirped to greet the new day’s light, and the gentle breeze among these mountains brushed branches from a nearby oak against the windowpane. The whistle of the wind and the gentle swish of leaves on glass melded together into something deeply familiar, a symphony of sound, the song of sunrise.

Sadly, this song was the last of its kind that Emma and Killian would enjoy on this journey. The final portion of their cross-country trek would come today, and when they arrived back home, a new reality would set in. Things would change drastically, Killian would have to reengage with a life he’d long ago left behind, yet despite the challenges that awaited him, Killian was astounded at the peace he could feel in this moment. Holding Emma as she still lay sleeping, he was filled with contentment, choosing to anchor himself to something that would be forever constant: his love for this incredible woman.

“You’re doing it again,” Emma murmured, stirring from sleep and already entirely aware of him before she’d so much as opened her eyes.

Killian let the sultry sound of her sleep-laced voice wash over him. It sent a similar sensation coursing through him as the soft brush of her fingertips over his chest. Strumming an unknown melody, her hands on his skin lit him up inside, and though he’d just taken her a few hours ago, he was already ready to devour her again. Strewn out like this, in the glow of early morning, Emma was a vision with gold hair and sun kissed skin. She was stunning, and through the grace of God and all good things, she was miraculously his. The thought of that gave him great comfort and his own hold on her tightened ever so slightly. In truth, he was so distracted he nearly forgot to answer her sassy statement, but the smile that appeared at her lips as her green eyes opened for the day demanded that he ask for more.

“Doing what, love?”

“You’re loving me so much that I simply can’t sleep through it.”

Another man would deny such a cheesy proclamation, or deflect from the depth of his feelings, but not Killian. No, his Swan had called him to the floor, and she was right. He was up this morning thinking only of his love for her, and while other thoughts may threaten to encroach on their time together, he had pushed them all aside. She was the best way to stay grounded and centered, and he was selfish, needing to soak up every last drop of their moments together just to keep his peace of mind.

“I’d offer some condolences, Emma, but I think we both know how you feel about my loving you.”

He murmured the words against her skin, taking advantage of her lingering drowsiness to pepper kisses on her lips, her jaw, and then the hollow of her neck. He hummed out a sound of sheer delight when he felt her shiver beneath him, and when she let out that perfect moan of hers, the one that was part gasp and part plea for more, he was lost. All conversation was behind him, and he knew the only thing left was to show her how much he loved her. Luckily for Killian, nothing had ever come so naturally.

The choice he must make this morning was between a fast and hard claiming, or a slow, steady savoring of two souls becoming one. The payoff for either was bound for greatness, but Killian was keenly aware of how everything would soon be different. Once they arrived back with his brothers, the solitude they’d cultivated would be encroached on, and though Killian had his own house, which could provide ample space and privacy, he also had a sneaking suspicion that his brother and fellow club members would be highly invested in him and his woman. After weeks of it being just the two of them, Killian knew he’d have to share Emma’s attentions, and that he too would have to interact with people other than his Swan. It would all be good in the end, but he wanted to make the most of these last truly secluded moments that they had together.

The teasing slowness of his ministrations became a torturous affair not just for Emma, but for him as well. He began by tasting her everywhere, tracing every line and curve of her, with extra attention paid to the places that made her blood sing. He hung on every breath she released, and every charged call of his name that whispered past her lips. When she came apart from his touch alone, his sense of pride surged dramatically, but the most beautiful sight was when she relaxed back into that post-climax moment, gazing at him with love in her eyes and nothing but a soul-deep contentment in her heart. It made a man feel worthy to know he had put that look on his woman’s face, and for Killian it was the closest he would ever feel to absolution. He’d done wrong in this life, made choices that veered well off the path of what was good or moral, but somehow, she still loved him, and Killian was better for that love.

By the time she was ready to be taken, Killian was so riled, his senses were frayed in all directions. Knowing that he was already worked up, Emma decided to push him further, murmuring that she loved him and asking him to make her his. The searing heat of his need for her was constant, but the feeling when he thrust inside and claimed her was the most agonizingly incredible feeling in the world. Nothing should feel this right, or this perfect, but with Emma it always did. Their rhythm was synced to perfection, their love palpable in the air around them, and though Killian did his best to savor every bit of it he could, it always felt like it was over far too soon. All it took was Emma arching her back, crying out in ecstasy, giving over to bliss, and he was right there with her, spent but saved and feeling like despite the uneasiness of this next moment, he and Emma could handle anything.

“Whatever happens today, it won’t change anything,” Emma said, her fingers running through his hair that was growing longer than he normally allowed it. She pushed it out of his face, before looking into his eyes and smiling in a way that melted his heart. “I love you, and I always will.”

“It’s the same for me, love, but rest assured, if you feel even the slightest discomfort, we will move on. We’re bound to nothing but each other.”

“Killian, this is your home -,” she began. He quieted her thought with a kiss before clarifying the truth to her.

“You are my home, Emma. Wherever you wish to be is where we will be, and I will be the happiest man alive just for being by your side.”

Emma readily accepted this promise from him, whispering that she felt the same as they continued to laze for a while more together, enjoying their connection and soaking in this last bit of privacy. Eventually, they had to get up and check out from this retreat, and they moved through the morning with a practiced precision of two people who had done this for weeks. Travelling had become second nature to them both, and the six-hour ride standing between them and his brothers would be easily managed.

For Killian, the journey honestly felt too short, though he made sure to stop and keep a steady pace for Emma’s sake. He knew she had never been to California before, and there was something magical about this place compared with every other. It was easily the most beautiful of the terrain they’d been in for weeks as well, and in Big Sur specifically, there was a natural beauty totally unique to this corner of the world. Giant forests rose impossibly high into the sky, a cross between the woods of the pacific northwest and the jungles of South America. Trees stood so tall the tops could not be seen, and even in patches where fires had blazed in seasons past, life prevailed, with green vegetation growing from ash and soot and dust. When they reached the ocean, Killian felt Emma’s hold on him tighten, an indicator of her excitement, but he still drove quite a few miles down the cliff-lined coastal highway before pulling off to stop.

“Now this is the kind of view I could get used to,” Emma murmured as he helped her off the bike, taking in the secluded patch of beach they’d driven towards where not a soul was nearby. With her hand in his, Killian immediately felt stronger, but the look on Emma’s face prompted a gentle, pleasant aching in his heart. She was happy to be here, in awe of this place, and to Killian that meant everything.

“We’re closing in on our destination now, love. We’ll be back well within the hour if we drive straight through, but there’s something I would very much like to show you, if you’re interested.”

“Lead the way, Captain.”

He led her down the pebbled path to the seaside, torn between watching her reactions and actually navigating their course. The best part of this was that Emma had no idea what was coming. They’d approached from the perfect angle, preserving a truly hidden gem from sight. Only when they rounded the corner would she see it, and as they made their move, he heard her gasp and felt her hand squeeze his tightly.

“Oh my God… I don’t even have words for how beautiful this is.”

Killian completely understood the feeling, though his own sensation of being struck speechless by something truly stunning often came directly from Emma. In this case, the beauty in question was an old, yet faithfully enduring shore house. It was painted white, weathered from storms, but still well-kept and largely preserved against the passage of time. The nearby community saw to it, since the owners of the home had long since gone. This shoreline was all public lands now, but the house remained, a testament to the man who once lived there, a gifted artist, and a natural born storyteller.

The remnants of his decades old art were painted, drawn, and constructed into the very foundation of this home and the mediums of expression were all treasures from the sea. Sea glass especially was plentiful here, drawing dizzying swirls of color along the house, the wood working and more. The glass had been cemented there for decades, but it shone with the same fervor and sparkle as ever. Shells of all shades, some whole and some not, were also used. Iridescent golden hued pieces, hewn from the mix of cold ocean water and warmer kelp garden pools were the stars of the show. They were each a small treasure uniquely found along these rocky coasts, often collected by the sea otters who called this sea shore home. This collection of the rare shells was astounding, and made all the more beautiful by being mixed in with others that were delicate shades of white and ivory and some that were a cooler oyster blue. They hung from wind chimes in the beach trees and off the lanterns, while some darker shells had been ground down to a painted stain that had been used in part to tattoo larger rocks that were too big for the sea to claim. Wherever the eye looked it was drawn to spiraling shapes and stories, never running out of objects to admire.

“How have I never heard of this? And how are we possibly the only ones here?” Emma asked, moving closer and looking at the intricate designs of shells and stones that had been added to the sands and earth more recently. A local commission of artists was in charge of these added displays of beauty, updating them occasionally, but usually waiting for nature to clear the slate. After a big storm where rainwater washed it all away, or higher tides than normal where the sea came just to the house’s front steps, new designs were created and enacted. But it was clear that there had only been sun for some time, and they were fresh on the heels of an exceptionally well-done redesign.

“Very few people know of this place, love. It’s a secret that is guarded by the people of this town so tightly you’ll find no books or blogs or trace of it anywhere. Liam and I are two very rare exceptions, outsiders with the good fortune to know it’s here.”

“How did that happen?” Emma asked, leaning into him and eager for the story from his past.

“My brother and I needed escape when we were here with our father, but we had little means of finding it,” he admitted, bracing himself for talk of that past life, and knowing he should get used to it now that they were nearly home. “The sea was the only thing of comfort for both of us, and we came to it as often as we could. We scoured every last bit of the coast, and I mean every bit. One day we landed here, and happened upon this house as we were searching the coastline for unknown coves. It was easily the best find we ever made. Of course, we nearly scared the life out of the woman who was crafting the shellscape that day, and once she alerted the other town’s people there was a big to do. We were sworn to secrecy and all the like. We never did tell a soul. It remained our secret – one idyllic hideaway from the world we lived in.”

“But now you’ve broken your oath,” Emma said, looking at him curiously, though she was clearly glad for his breach of that old promise.

“Some may believe that.”

“But you don’t?”

“No, love. I believe the promises I have made and will make to you supersede any others. Besides, I am fairly certain that the promise is null when it comes to my wife.”

“Funny, I don’t remember getting married,” Emma said, though her teasing was a front for the rush of emotions she was feeling. “In fact, I don’t even remember you proposing.”

Let’s change that, he thought to himself knowing he had the ring in his pocket right now, but reason won out in the end, and he remembered his plan. He wanted to get Emma totally settled into their new life first, and to make sure she was ready in all ways. He knew she loved him and that she would be his forever, but it was only right to ensure that he do things properly.

“Soon enough, love. You have my word on that.”

Emma grinned at his affirmation, pulling him down by the collar of his leather jacket and kissing him passionately. When they broke apart, she asked him to promise they’d come back here and he did, and after a bit more time in this private oasis, they headed back to the road, driving towards their destination once more.

The ride along the coast was quick, far quicker than he remembered, and when they pulled off the coastal highway and to the discrete exit leading to the town he’d once grown up in, Killian could sense Emma’s surprise. They didn’t need to share a conversation for him to gauge her apprehension and excitement. She was no doubt wondering if they were really going to be living amongst this dense and beautiful forest. It would be a big change from her life in the cities she’d always known.

Soon enough they made it to the town line, reading the hunter green placard that announced their arrival. Unsure of what he expected, Killian was surprised to see just how much improvement had been made in his time away. Their town had always been quaint, but it could easily be described as ‘down on its luck’ when he was a boy. He knew it was his brother’s hope to not only remove the stain of his father’s shady dealings, but to help revitalize this community in a way that had been lacking for decades. But when Killian departed to seek his revenge on Gold, those ideas were mere figments of a would-be dream.

Liam has truly made good, he thought to himself as they cruised down the main street. Here along the town’s center there were new businesses and old ones that had been repaired and shaped for competing in the world today. Things were still classic and beachy, but the energy around it all gave away two important facts: the first was that this town was being tended to and cared for by its tenants, the second was that it was also being protected, and that anything that may threaten this currently peaceful ecosystem would not be allowed.

In this stretch of the ride, Killian could see some familiar faces in the mix, people from his old life in this town who were going about their day to day none the wiser about his return. There were also quite a few new faces as well, but Killian could spot the tourists right away. Their biggest tell was their fixation on his bike. People who lived in this region regularly would be densensitized, and since Liam had imposed a safety parameter for the town from other gangs, they wouldn’t bat an eye, even at a biker without his cut.  

Not far beyond the center of town was the Den, the once large warehouse that had been reconfigured to fit the Land Pirate members and families when need be. When he was here last, the place was little more than a dump, with tell-tale signs of partying strewn about both outside and within. There was also a crappy, rusted gate around the perimeter that did the job of securing the place on some level, but had always been a huge eyesore. Gone was all of that, and in its stead was higher tech, better quality fencing. The Den was now fortified, and Killian could see the precautions put in place that passersby may not realize were installed. He also took note of the probie standing guard at the entrance.

Well this should be interesting, Killian thought as he drove up. He had no idea who this probationary member of the club was. Killian would have to explain who he was and that could get awkward. But before he had the chance the unknown man was speaking.

“Well I’ll be damned. Pres was right. Hook’s come home again.”

“Pres?” Emma whispered and Killian replied quietly.

“That’s Liam’s title here, love.”

“And Hook?”

“My road name.” Emma nodded, taking it all in stride as Killian turned his attention back to the probie. “So, he’s expecting me then?”

“Has been for weeks. You sure took your time getting out here, Hook.”

He looked at the probationary patch on the man’s Land Pirates leather cut and saw the stitched name ‘Mouse.’ Had to be a story behind that name. Didn’t exactly blend with the others who were patched in when Killian was here. “How do you even know who I am?”

“You kidding? You’re a legend, man, and so is she.”

For a minute Killian tensed up, thinking that Mouse was talking about Emma. He was feeling protective, and didn’t like the idea of other men looking her way unless they were going to show the proper respect. Only when Emma let out a laugh did he realize his mistake.

“Oh my God, you mean the bike! That’s classic. Please tell me it has a name.” Emma’s joking was incredibly apparent, and Killian was surprised at how nonplussed she was by their being on unknown turf.

“She,” Mouse stressed and Emma bit back her laugh, but her body still shook with it. “And yeah, bikes get names.”

“Wait don’t tell me. This will be way more fun if I can guess. Hmm, Harley? No that’s kind of obvious. Uh, I mean what do you call a gendered bike? Kind of a tall order… Oh I know, Lady. Kind of on the nose with the whole ‘it’s a she’ thing, but it works, right?”

Killian chuckled at the way Emma was enjoying herself, and he noticed the look of shock on the probie’s face. Clearly he didn’t understand the situation. This was no ordinary woman on the back of his ride giving him shit for having named his bike. This was the most important person in his world, and no one, club member or not, was going to question that.

“Look, kid, my woman and I have been on the road for awhile. We could use the rest, and it’s probably best not to keep my brother waiting anymore.” The overt use of the label for Emma created a total mood shift in Mouse. He had taken the hint.

“Absolutely, Hook. Ma’am.”

The change in tone as he nodded at them and buzzed them through to the compound was pronounced, so much so that Emma mentioned it when they parked and she stepped off the motorcycle.

“Is the somewhat caveman ‘me man, she my woman’ thing baked into this whole MC life?” Emma asked, her brow arched even as a smile teased at her lips. “I’m not complaining, per se. Just curious if I’ll have to announce my belonging to you everywhere I go.”

“Probies are probies for a reason, love, and the reason is they’ve got a whole lot to learn and more than one thing to prove. The men in this club with a patch, my brothers, they know better than to disrespect a woman, Old Lady or not.”

“Ah right, I forgot about that charming title. I don’t know who possibly came up with that one. ‘Old Lady.’ It’s so… unflattering. Had to be a man.”

“In this world, you can blame nearly everything on a man, love,” Killian quipped and Emma grinned at his assessment before continuing to lament the biker term for a man’s significant other.

“I honestly thought I’d have a few years before getting called ‘old lady’ and even then it would be by bratty neighborhood kids, not hot guys in leather who name their motorcycles.” Killian growled at the mention of men being hot and Emma teased him with a nip against his lips that was designed to have him wanting more but was only meant in jest. “But don’t worry, I’ll make up for all of this somehow. I’m gonna find you the perfect partner nickname that undercuts how irresistibly sexy I find you in all your leather. I just need a little time.”

“You can call me any damn thing you want, Emma. As long as you call me yours.”

The words were honest and immediately shifted the sass of Emma’s commentary to something softer. Instinctively, she placed a gentle and loving kiss on his lips before they both turned to the warehouse. Together they walked hand in hand towards the door, and when they entered, Killian held his breath. Would this place look like the nightmare of his youth? The place he’d have fought through anything to get away from? It took only the briefest moment to see those worries were unfounded.

Killian was utterly relieved at how normal the Den looked, and how the relic of old had been completely rehabilitated. The general concept was the same, starting with a vastness in the entrance that made it seem like this place went on forever. The entryway blended into a great room where club members and guests spent a lot of time, and in the back there’d surely be more changes to go along with these ones. Killian knew the kitchen and living quarters, the war room and Liam’s office all would have been revamped if this part of the warehouse was. But this communal space in particular held a lot of painful memories. The ghosts of this place had haunted him for some time, but they were nearly all cast away by the warmth and modern makings of this renovation. It made Killian want to see more, something he never truly believed was possible, but as curious as Killian was, there simply wasn’t time. Soon the renovation was forgotten, and instead he was faced with the all important figure standing there, waiting for him after years of no contact. 

“Liam.” 

…

Post-Note: So I know I have stopped it right at the start of a hugely important reunion, but I fully intend to make up for it in the next chapter. Introducing the actual MC is going to be such fun for me, but, as with this chapter, it may take some time before I have a next installment out. My muse has been tricky, but I am hoping to get a bigger chunk of my story, ‘Feels Like This’ written by the end of the year so I can hopefully finish it up. Anyway, I would love to hear what you all thought of this chapter, and as always, I really appreciate you all reading and thank you so much for the support! Until next time!

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Good morning!

I’ll never get over the end of Supernatural. 

I just won’t. 

And I’m gonna talk about it some more under the cut.

Buckle up. I’m back on my bullshit.

Here’s what’s jarring: The end of 15x18 felt so honest. I mean, we can make jokes about Jensen’s reaction shots and super mega hell or whatever, and we can be angry about Cas’s fate, too. That last one, at least, is a totally valid criticism. 

But Ackles, Collins and Speight have all gone on record on that moment in the show, talking about the heart and honesty behind it (Speight and Collins on a virtual convention chat, Ackles in the instagram comments of a woman who worked in wardrobe on the show, though he was talking about the how as a whole). A lot of thought and care and work - and probably fights with the network - went into that one scene to make it land, and if you’ve been actually watching the show, it really does, especially if you take into account that you now get to rewatch the show with the knowledge that Castiel was in love with Dean, and that’s going to give a canonical, romantic context to his actions.

But when we hit 15x19 and 15x20, it...it feels like a completely different show. 

Here’s what’s interesting about Supernatural: Since day one, the underlying heartbeat of the show has been this lowkey feeling of yearning. Of reaching out for something you know is just out of reach. And I don’t know if that was intentional, and I don’t know how they managed to keep that up for 15 years (I blame the cast), but for whatever reason, that feeling is entirely missing from the last two episodes.

That heartbeat just...isn’t there. And so when we watch the last two episodes, and very specifically, the last episode, it feels all wrong. It feels like we’re watching cardboard cutouts of these characters.

Dean’s million year death scene felt all wrong. Jensen acted the hell out of it, but it felt all wrong. The end montage felt all wrong. Even Heaven felt all wrong. It was all wrong, for a number of reasons.

1. The big one being that Supernatural is an action show. And the last episode had no action. The first 10 minutes of the episode is great as a set-up. Dean and Sam keep on keeping on. The dog, the laundry. All good.  

But then we come to the pie conversation, and we find out that Sam and Dean...

Are not actively looking for a way to bring Cas back. 

This is the one major plot thread left for the show to cover. Castiel has been taken by the Empty to fulfill his deal, and if there’s one thing we know for a fact about Supernatural, it’s that these dumb boys make deals and then do their damndest to save each others’ skins from the consequences of those deals.That’s been the through-line of the show sinse season 2/3. 

So why is it dropped here? 

Dean’s acceptance that his best friend - who just confessed that he was in love with Dean - is gone forever is deeply out of character. 

2. And I’ve talked about this a lot: killing a character with a history of mental illness and suicidal ideations and calling it a reward is a bad look. I can’t stop thinking about it, and it makes me feel downright ill. It goes against all of the work the cast has done to raise money for mental health awareness and it’s just a dark, unhappy end for a character who saw 15 years of growth and acceptance. I will never be over Dean Winchester’s death. Ever. 

3. Cas’s love confession is never mentioned again. This enormous, beautiful confession he gives Dean is just...forgotten. Dean never mentions it. He never tells Sam that it happen. We have no indication of how Dean feels about it at all, save for a little smirk he gives when Bobby mentions Cas helping Jack create Heaven. 

We can read the smirk a number of ways. It could be a “yay Cas is safe” smirk or a “Yay I finally get to talk to him about how mad I am that he made that deal and also tell him I love him back” or a “Sweet I’m super gonna get laid” smirk.

But we’re given no real answers. 

Which leads me to my final point: 

4. The finale commits to nothing, and ignores everything we previously knew about the show. It gives no real answers or finality to anything other than Dean’s death, and then, eventually Sam’s. “Was that blurry woman Eileen?” You figure it out. “Did Dean ever see Cas again?” The world may never know. Jared went on record as saying that the finale takes place 5 years from 15x19 but that’s not confirmed because 15x20 makes no mention of a time jump. So maybe it was, but maybe it wasn’t? Why did we get this tiny shitty funeral for Dean when Sam could have called Jody and Donna and Bobby and Charlie and Claire etc. Even with COVID restrictions there would have been a way around showing the characters being there and us being TOLD that they WERE there. A call from Jody, saying she and Donna were on their way? A condolence call from Bobby? Rowena is the queen of hell, and she cared about Sam a lot. She couldn’t call to check in? As it is, Donna has law enforcement calling one of Dean’s phones for help because Sam told none of the people who also loved Dean that Dean had died. Which is totally out of character for Sam not to lean on friends, and also fucked up. What happened to Dean’s dog? Did Sam ever talk to any of the people in his hunter life ever again? If Jack had saved Castiel from the Empty, and it is, in fact, five years in the future, it is out of character for Castiel not to be watching the Winchesters from heaven. He would have seen Dean get mortally wounded, and it’s very out of character for him not to come down and save Dean with his Angel mojo. 

So my big question is this: Why did we watch 15 years of this show only for one of them to die in a really ho-hum, out of character way, and the other to live an apple pie life he wasn’t even happy in? 

I think about that a lot: That Dean’s ending, his death, we’re told, is a good death, and that he gets to rest and be happy in heaven. Which feels wrong.

And Sam lives the apple pie life, which we’re told is a good life and something he’s at peace with, which also feels wrong, and we’re SHOWN it’s wrong, because Sam isn’t happy. 

In the end, we’re told that the only true happiness is in death. Which, for a show that spat in Death’s face - that literally KILLED multiple incarnations of death - makes absolutely no sense. 

And it’s driving me crazy  because I can’t justify anything that happens in this episode except for Dean hugging the dog, and Sam hitting Dean in the face with a piece of pie. 

what the fuck.

[travllingbunny]

The 100 7x12 The Stranger

This is an episode I’ve enjoyed a lot more on rewatch than the first time. Which I kind of expected. The first time, I really didn’t like it, but this was mostly because I was too impatient to see Bardo and Bellamy, and really didn’t have patience for the Sanctum scenes, which again took up so much of the episode, or focus while watching them - that is, I did at the beginning, but not in the second half o the episode. 

In fact, there was nothing that bad about the Sanctum scenes, and I enjoyed many of them on rewatch, but this storyline is simply not as interesting as the one about the Anomaly, Bardo and the Disciples, especially now when Bellamy has returned and just had a most dramatic character transformation, 5 episodes before the end of the show. And that’s been the main problem of the season so far: pacing. Jumping from one plot to another works when you have two equally interesting and exciting stories, and that really isn’t the case here.

It also didn’t help that this episode - by a first time writer - had too much clunky dialogue, such as so many times when characters were recapping events to each other:

Indra recaps to Memori what happened in a scene we saw 5 minutes earlier (at least this was brief)

Hope recaps her life story to Jordan, which we already saw in 7x02 and 7x04 and heard retold 7x07

Madi recaps what happened to her on Earth (to be fair, we did not actually see that on screen)

Bellamy recaps not just 7x11, but also season 3 and season 6

Murphy recaps 7x03 to Nikki

Now, some of this was probably necessary, but some of it wasn’t exactly - for instance, did we really need to hear Hope’s life story again? The scene was very nice, but we could’ve just have Hope tell Jordan “Dev was my friend” and assume she already told him who he was. This wouldn’t bug me if it was just one scene, but it was so many of them in the same episode. It’s OK to have characters sometimes learn info off-screen, especially when there’s just a few episodes remaining. It’s not that there isn’t enough time left to resolve all the storylines - there are 4 episodes left, about the same net amount of screentime as the entirety of Avengers: Endgame - but the show needs to pick up the pace.

It could’ve been a better episode, especially considering the fact that some big things happened, and the storylines finally converged by the end of the episode, setting up potentially exciting final 4 episodes. 

On the more positive note - it was very interesting to see Bellamy’s conversation with Cadogan and his repressed but clearly conflicted emotions in his scenes - first with Echo and Raven, and later with Clarke and Octavia, and his attempts to find reconcile his new faith with his desire to save the people he loves. And on rewatch, I enjoyed a lot of the other scenes -nice character moments with Madi and her friends, and with Jordan and Hope, cute moments with Memori, or even Murphy’s confrontation with Nikki, though I would’ve enjoyed some of them better if they had happened in some other episode earlier in the season.

Bardo

Bellamy is now in full-blown Disciple mode, wearing one of those ridiculous white robes, similar to what Doucette wears, even though Bellamy is not a Conductor or a science-oriented person like Gabriel, hasn’t gone through any Disciple training and isn’t even Level 1 (as seen by the lack of the marks on his face). He is clearly being treated as one of the top Disciples anyway, one of Cadogan’s inner circle, which may be justified by the fact that he has gone through the Etherea pilgrimage. We know that Cadogan’s pilgrimage is a big deal in Disciple religion, which would raise both his and Doucette’s status, but he is also, of course, important to Cadogan because of his connection to Clarke and the “Key”.(Sidenote: I don’t think anyone has been appointed the new First Disciple after Anders’ death. The job of the FD was to act on behalf of the Shepherd and lead in his absence, and wake him up every 20 years to update him on the progress of the search for the Key and the Final Code. Now that Cadogan is there to lead himself, he has no need for a deputy anymore.) 

He is also getting to have one-on-one talks with Cadogan. This scene is one of the most interesting in this episode. Bellamy is incredibly repressed, with subdued feelings, but those emotions are still simmering and coming through on his face and in his voice, thanks to Bob’s great acting. Bellamy gives Cadogan condolences for Anders’ death, and Cadogan replies that he really barely knew and didn’t care about Anders, which we knew already. Cadogan interprets this as Bellamy testing him if he has any attachments. I don’t know if that is true or just how Cadogan read it, or if Bellamy assumed Cadogan and his FD must have been close, and/or if he was doing it so he could bring up the issue of his friends, who are supposed to be executed for “their” crimes. (Which are really just Echo’s and Hope’s crimes, but the Disciples seem to have decided they bear collective responsibility, even though many of them tried to stop it - and no one is disputing it.) Cadogan goes on about how trying to suppress attachments and emotions is a long way and says he is still struggling with it after doing it for hundreds of years. (No, Bill, you haven’t been even conscious for hundreds of years. You were in cryo. Shut up.) He says Bellamy reminds him of his son Reese/ Since Bellamy and Reese are nothing alike, I can only interpret this as Cadogan trying to manipulate Bellamy by presenting himself as a father figure. I thought at first that he may really have meant it because he assumed Bellamy would be as loyal to him as Reese was - but that’s clearly not true, since the end of this episode shows that Bill does not fully trust Bellamy.

Bill thinks that Callie must have killed Reese, since he apparently can’t see any other reason why Reese never got to bring him the Flame. It says a lot that 1) he assumes that 1) Reese always remained loyal to him and that 2) Callie would be willing to kill her brother. He always put them against each other and made them fight as children. And he doesn’t even entertain the thought that Reese may have had any character growth and changed his mind. I have a feeling he may be wrong on both accounts.

But Bellamy is good at manipulating Cadogan, too, in order to save his friends - he realizes that Bill’s family is his weak spot. Cadogan was not entirely convinced by Bellamy’s suggestion that the Flame can be repaired, but he was affected - even if he didn’t admit that - when Bellamy told him he may find out what happened to his children through the Flame.  I’m not entirely sure if Bellamy believes that 1) the Flame can be repaired (which may or may not happen) and 2) the Commanders' memories would still be there (which doesn’t make a lot of sense and seems unlikely). He is very sincere about his faith, and he says later he can’t lie to the Shepherd, so he wouldn’t be lying... But he is clutching at straws to save his loved ones, maybe even trying to convince himself. And there’s also the fact that he does lie to Cadogan later, during Clarke’s MCap.

We then see two conversations Bellamy has with the people close to him - the first one is with his Spacekru family: his girlfriend Echo and his long-time friend Raven. The second one is with Clarke and his actual family, Octavia. The Disciples again made sure to put characters in cells for two people, but we don’t get to see Bellamy talk to Miller and Niylah (even though the scene was filmed, as we saw in the promo pictures). I hope that scene was not cut due to time - considering how much screentime was used up by the Sanctum storyline, again, and these characters are constantly getting short-changed. But I think it may have instead been cut because of the story structure - to focus on just these two scenes. What’s more, Raven’s role is much smaller than Echo’s in the former scene as she leaves early, and, surprisingly, Octavia plays a secondary role in the latter, which is mostly focused on Bellamy and Clarke’s interaction. And considering how the former scene was changed from the script, - Bellamy’s emotions toned down, Bellamy not explaining his experiences to Echo and Raven as he does later to Clarke and Octavia - which made the contrast between the two scenes stronger, I think the intention was to focus mostly on Bellamy’s relationships with Echo and Clarke, and that the compare and contrast was deliberate.

Throughout both of these scenes, Bellamy insists that he is trying to save everyone from death, while also being true to his faith, but his loved ones, understandably, are shocked by this new Disciple Bellamy, who feels like a stranger, and who is acting as one of their captors and is even willing to let them be put in MCap against their will. He notably does not answer the question Echo asks - if he is ready to watch them die, which is a strong possibility if his attempts to placate Cadogan don’t work. Instead he just says “You know that’s not what I want”, which doesn’t answer the question. Maybe because he is not sure yet what the answer is. But he does answer one other question...

In his talk with Raven and Echo, Bellamy shows emotions (including concern when noticing Echo’s scars), but they are very subdued, and he eventually makes it clear that, if push comes to shove, he is prioritizing his new faith over his people. Raven reacts with typical Raven anger, and throws the words "So much for family" in Bellamy’s face (echoing what Bellamy himself said to Miller in season 5 - "So much for the 100"). Echo is also indignant but tries to plead with him, hoping to bring back old Bellamy in him - without any success. Which may be seen as a sign of how strong Bellamy’s indoctrination is... but looking a little beneath the surface, a lot of what she says makes me wonder how well she knew the old Bellamy in the first place. Bellamy, on his part, asks Echo to believe in him and be on his side, but his argument is to appeal to her feelings for him (”I am the man you love”), expecting her trust and loyalty without really offering anything in return, such as, say, some promise, some mention of his feelings for her. Echo tells him about how obsessed she was with saving him... and then avenging him - she is really channeling S2 Finn with how she refers to her genocide attempt as a grand romantic gesture and sign of love that he should appreciate. Even if Bellamy was his old self, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be happy to hear that. Disciple Bellamy remains stone-faced and gives her only a flat “I’m sorry you had to go through that”. 

(And this is what annoys me about this scene and this storyine in general: somehow, Echo is made to look morally superior, after having murdered and betrayed multiple people this season an some two days after she murdered people as a way to torture Levitt and almost committed genocide, and no one has any time to even mention that or blame her for anything. If Bellamy had done a fraction of her actions, it would’ve turned into a huge story of guilt and Bellamy being blamed and needing to redeem himself forever.)

But regardless of how you see these characters’ respective arcs, one thing is clear: they are on completely different wavelengths. Echo mentions how she tried to keep her identity by scarring her face - but that scarring was an Azgeda custom; the core identity she was trying to preserve was that of an Azgeda warrior/spy, which is hardly something to mention as a positive thing to Bellamy. Not only does it have nothing to do with them as a couple or as a team/”family”- her Azgeda spy/warrior identity made her Bellamy’s enemy and caused him a lot of trauma. This is either some weird and bad writing, or an intentional attempt to show the cracks in this relationship that have been there all along. Bellamy, on his part, seems to think Echo will understand the appeal that this faith has for him - a promise of “no more war, no more killing”. Why does he think this is something that would appeal to her? Fighting and killing for her “people” and her “King” and fulfilling her mission is what she lives for, even after having spent 11 years in peace.

Throughout this scene, Echo looks very emotional, especially by her standards, while Bellamy is incredibly restrained. She finally asks him point blank “Is this (his faith) more important than us?” This is a very ambiguous line, because the pronoun “us” can be understood as “all of us, your family/friends” or “you and me/our relationship”. There’s been a debate on which one she meant - I even created a Twitter poll about it (where about 2/3 of voters said they thought she meant their relationship). I can see both of these interpretations, but the intimate way she said that line and the way she was looking at him make me think that she meant “us” as in their relationship. Either way, the fact that Bellamy - after a pause - unambiguously answered “Yes”, makes it pretty clear that this relationship is over. I find it hard to see any future in this relationship even if/when Bellamy stops drinking the Kool-Aid. I do think someone will be able to get to him, but it won’t be Echo.

Echo cries after he has left (which I feel was much more in character than if she had been crying during their talk, as in the script.). Back in 7x04, Echo asked Orlando: “ It must be hard to dedicate your whole life to something that may never come.” I’ve always felt that was foreshadowing for Echo’s own arc - with the way she was saying she wouldn’t know what to do without Bellamy. I didn’t expect their relationship to end for this reason - but this is a much stronger blow for Echo than if they had just broken up for more mundane reasons. She didn’t just lose her boyfriend, she lost her king.  If her arc is to make any sense, the show will have reflect on her life, identity and priorities and her find some purpose in life that’s not about Bellamy or serving another leader.

Octavia and Clarke are together in another cell - and we get a brief interaction, where Octavia tells Clarke she “finally understands” her, because she knows what it’s like to have a child you’re desperate to protect. I’m not too fond of this line, because it feels kind of obvious but also reductive - “I finally understand you” makes it sound like she finally understands who Clarke always has been, since she met her in season 1, which doesn’t make sense. It’s reducing Clarke to the role of the mother, and it would make a lot more sense if Octavia said she now understood the post-Praimfaya Clarke. But understanding was never an issue between them in season 5 - Clarke was simply standing in Blodreina's way. It was back in seasons 1-4 that Octavia had trouble understanding Clarke and her decision as a leader - something that she probably understood when she became a leader herself, responsible for a bunch of people.

Bellamy’s second big confrontation is with Clarke and Octavia. And in this one, Bellamy was much, much more openly emotional, much more vulnerable. This time, he not only told his experience to his sister and Clarke - he is now desperately  pleading with Clarke to believe in him. He doesn’t bring up her feelings for him, but their connection and - in a way - his feelings for her, what he did for her, the fact he did not give up and brought her back to life in S6. They are both yelling and looking in pain and with tears in their eyes. He isn’t shouts “I am trying to save you, all of you!” But this is not about Clarke believing in him or dismissing his experiences. She accepts that what he says may be true, but refuses to give in to a man like Cadogan and let him start a war, and she stands her ground, while Octavia turns away from her brother to comfort her, looking at him disapprovingly. If someone can get to Bellamy, if his feelings could outweigh his faith and loyalty to Cadogan, it is most likely to be Clarke (It could be Octavia, of course, but the show is not choosing to focus on their relationship at the moment.)

I’d like to point out that we have seen this kind of angsty conflict between Clarke and Bellamy almost every season, and often around this part of the season, and that it always ended in an equally huge reconciliation. In season 3, it was earlier (3x05 to 3x11). In season 4 it was in 4x10/4x11 with a reconciliation in 4x12. In season 5, it lasted from 5x09 to their big reconciliation in the season 5 finale. They always end up forgiving each other because they can understand each other - and are a united team in every season finale.

I want to address something else I’ve seen people say: that it is “worrying” that Clarke has called Bellamy her best friend twice this season, after never having defined their relationship that specifically before. Which is seen by some as a sign of the show trying to “clear” that they are “platonic” - even though this really doesn’t do that. (Anyone remember a certain real life tweet going: “Recently, I married my best friend and soulmate...”?) If anything, it is a step forward, since she has previously only referred to Bellamy as one of her friends/family. What else would she call him that would give him a special place, unless you expect a love confession from her at a moment like this (or talking to Cadogan in front of everyone), which wouldn't make sense. Specifying their current relationship status  of two characters feels like something you would do if that status is to change - one way or other. (I think that Bellamy has also been called Echo's boyfriend for the first time in S7.) 

The struggle inside Bellamy continues as he sends Clarke to MCap - which rightfully shocks and hurts both Clarke and Octavia, But he clearly has a hard time seeing Clarke in pain. and, in spite of what he said earlier (that he can’t lie to the Shepherd), lies to Cadogan, claiming Clarke doesn’t know where the Flame is. There is no way he actually believes that - Clarke didn’t even try to pretend that she didn’t know it, and she’s struggling to hide that knowledge. Unfortunately it’s an obvious lie Cadogan sees through, but the cracks in Bellamy’s loyalty to him are starting to show.

(Many people were hoping that the MCap session would allow Bellamy to see Clarke’s memories and that this would be some kind of breakthrough that would let him realize her feelings for him and get him emotional - but I’m glad nothing like that happened, Mind violation is not a good way to bring two people together..)

Clarke, being Clarke, hurts herself rather than giving Cadogan what he wants and letting him start a war, until he promises he release her friends.

The show is really not subtle with its imagery - first we had Kane crucified in season 3, and now Clarke looks like Jesus with a crown of thorns. 

So, Cadogan sends the rest of the group (Octavia, Echo, Hope, Miller, Niylah, Jordan) to an unknown location, as a collateral, so Clarke would keep her end of the deal and find the Flame for them. But he doesn’t reveal the location to Clarke - or to Bellamy, because, in his words, he doesn’t trust Clarke. But this means that he doesn’t really trust Bellamy, either - at least not when Clarke is around.

Doucette seems to be constantly hanging around Bellamy - he was there when Bellamy was reunited with his people, he appears after Bellamy’s talk with Clarke and Octavia, and he’s with Cadogan, Bellamy, Clarke and others in the team that goes to Sanctum. I don’t think it’s just because they are the Disciple version of friends - I think Cadogan has made Doucette Bellamy’s unofficial Handler, and that he’s supposed to keep an eye on him and make sure he stays loyal and doesn’t give in to the temptation of emotional attachments to his friends and family. He also has a brief interaction with Echo, where he seems amused and mildly contemptuous. Which makes me think he’ll have some interesting interactions with Clarke and possibly others in 7x13 (but mostly Clarke, especially going by the promo photos) while he is  around Bellamy to remind him of his Disciple side.

There’s been a lot of speculation where the group has been sent. It’s certainly not Skyring, Etherea or Nakara or Sanctum, which means that the options are either Earth, or some new place we haven’t seen yet. It would make sense if it was the same place where Gaia was. It certainly seems that we won’t see this group before 7x14, as the upcoming episode will probably be full focused on Sanctum. The Stone on Earth has been shown to be offline - but so was the Stone on Sanctum, and that didn’t end up mattering at all.

What I don’t understand is why Cadogan thinks they won’t be able to find their way to Sanctum - which is why he didn’t let Gabriel and Raven go with them. But they do have Disciple helmets (unless all info in them has been disabled), and Jordan was around when Raven talked about the Anomaly and has spent a bit of time researching the Bardoan text on the Anomaly Stone on Bardo - so I expect him to be able to figure things out.

So many of the characters need to resolve their storylines - Echo, Hope, Jordan? The former two have character arcs that badly need resolution and character development, after they have lost everything. Hope has been driven by anger, pain and revenge all season - and it all came crashing down when she attempted to commit genocide, and unintentionally caused her mother’s death as a result. Diyoza’s last words were to be better than she was. Hope still has Octavia, who has struggled with and resolved the darkness and violence in her soul, and now she also has Jordan to bond with, as they did in their scene in the cell in this episode. They are two of the kids who grew up in isolation and raised on stories of Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, Murphy and others as legends, but with drastically different worldviews and experiences. I expect both of them to survive to the end, together with Madi, as the new generation/hopes for the future of humanity.

As for Jordan, I would say that his arc needs a resolution, but his brainwashing by Trey at the end of last season seems to have been completely forgotten and ignored. Maybe it became a casualty of the rewrites, when the show opted to go with another brainwashing/indoctrination storyline with another one of its men of color. I certainly prefer this Jordan we saw talking to Hope and comforting her, but why didn’t the show keep him that way all the time, without that really annoying Prime-apologism phase?  

I feel that Octavia, on the other hand, has completed her character development, but she needs to deal with the loss of Diyoza, have some meaningful interactions with Hope, and of course, a resolution to her relationship with Bellamy. 

It really struck me how little Bellamy/Octavia interactions got focus in this episode - their one scene was more focused on Bellamy's interaction with Clarke, and Octavia didn't even get a line or closeup in the scene where they were being sent off (unlike Clarke, Echo, Raven, Gabriel and Miller) nor even a moment of eye contact with Bellamy (unlike Echo and Clarke). That must mean there are going to be big Blake sibling scenes later, probably in the finale.

Sanctum

When you think Sheidheda can’t get more over the top, he does it again. I don’t know if this is a bad or good thing. If you’re doing a cartoonish villain, go all in, right? It’s kind of entertaining, though it doesn’t fit with the usual way this show does villains. This time, he actually has a throne made of skeletons! (That’s one way to use those skeletons of the Primes’ former hosts.)

He’s also borderline  Villain Sue, with a bunch of incredible fighting skills that now go beyond Grounder style fight. Now he’s also really good with automatic guns. When did that happen? I mean, Madi does know how to shoot a gun, but still? The scene where he shoots all of the Children of Gabriel would’ve been much more convincing if he had given a sign to Wonkru to start shooting them, instead of doing it all by himself.

Nelson’s (Sachin)’s death was fitting for his character, and many would say it was heroic and impressive, refusing to kneel to another false god. Or one could say it was stupid and pointless - as it did not result in just his death, but also the deaths of all the people he was leading, and that he should have instead taken Emori’s advice and knelt today so he could find a way to beat Shady some other day, while saving his people. I’ll let you guess which one of these is closer to how I feel. In any case, on the Doylist level, I’m not fond of how fast the show is to kill off another bunch of people, but it is what it is, the show has always been fond of mass murder. And this is Shady’s second one this season. First he killed the majority of the Faithful, and now almost all of the Children of Gabriel - so we wouldn’t have to deal with more factions of people in the show’s endgame. And conveniently, CoG got removed from the board just before Gabriel comes back to Sanctum, Now we won’t have to have that arc followed up on. How many people are left in Sanctum now that aren’t Earthkru? There must still be quite a few of the ordinary Sanctumites there, such as Delilah’s parents, but we rarely get to see them. I would hate it if the show killed off the majority of the Sanctum residents just because they’re not major characters.

The only CoG who gets to survive is Madi’s friend Luca, the one other CoG we know. Indra, who witnesses the massacre and saves Luca, must be thinking back to how her mother knelt to save her (just like she knelt to save Madi) and hopefully realizing that her mother wasn’t a coward and did the right thing. 

Meanwhile, Murphy and Emori are hiding Madi, the remaining Faithful, and now Luca, too, in the nuclear reactor. Trey, the big believer, has no problem suggesting they kneel to the guy who killed his god Russell, before Murphy points out that Shady would kill them anyway for fear they would want revenge. Oh, Shady - you killed so many people and didn't even have the decency to kill that annoying asshole Trey?  

One of the best parts of the Sanctum plot in this episode is Madi comforting a really traumatized Luca - who has lost first his biological family when Shady killed the Faithful, and now his people/his real family - and telling a group of orphaned children a story of her own survival in the Shallow Valley. Whether or not this is foreshadowing for a possible return to Earth (I am in two minds if this is going to happen or not), it is a sweet moment of hope for rebuilding life and society, similar to the scene between Jordan and Hope.

Murphy confronting Nikki and telling her how and why her husband died and that his sacrifice should not be in vain, is a good scene - and won’t be pointless if it finally results in some sort of character development for Nikki, who has been so one-note throughout this season. But she is simply not that interesting. The one interesting thing about her plot is that she could remind Murphy of who was back in season 1, but the show, usually not subtle with parallels, hasn’t done anything with that so far.  

There also some lovely Memori moments - they are the one couple in the show who are getting to be happy and have these ordinary coupley scenes. And you know that I have always shipped Memori. But the problem here is - there have been many cute Memori scenes this season; they have both proved to be good leaders, who take care of people, playing the role Clarke and Bellamy did once; Murphy has been proving every episode that he’s a real hero now, coming a long way not just since season 1 but from his questionable and selfish choices in season 6, too. He gets told “I’m proud of you, Murphy” again by someone, this time Indra. All of this is very nice, but repetitive. After so many episodes this season have shown us these things - we get it. We don’t doubt anymore that Murphy and Emori are heroes. Sheidheda is 100% a villain. There is no moral ambiguity - except with minor characters: the only unpredictable thing about the storyline is what Nikki will do and whether Knight will stop obeying Shady. It’s not that this is a terrible storyline, and on rewatch, it was fine in this episode - but the other storyline is way more interesting, and there are so many other characters that are in pressing need of character resolutions, with 4 episodes to go.

At the end, we’re left with a stalemate, as Murphy is captured by Shady, but Shady can’t move to capture or kill Emori and the people they are protecting in the reactor, because she could blow it up, so he leaves Knight to wait for them to come out. 

And then, finally, Cadogan and the group come from the Anomaly. Why did we have that Disciple so dramatically disconnect the Sanctum Stone in 7x04? Another abandoned subplot? Wonkru simply moved the Stone and brought it tot Shady, and it worked just fine. 

(I suspect the Flame may turn out to be impossible to repair or useless, because the show has been emphasizing Madi’s remaining memories so much this season - and that wasn’t needed for this plot, since Shady also remembers the Anomaly Stone and could have been the one to tell Wonkru about it. The Disciples may end up trying to get her into MCap to see if she remembers the Final Code that Bedca used.)

I’m ecstatic that the Bardo storyline is finally converging with the Sanctum one. But that somewhat initially ruined by the bad direction in the last scene, which made it less clear which of the characters were back on Sanctum, until you went back and paused the scene. Clarke asking “What the hell happened here?” and Murphy’s reply “Gee, where to start” was great, but the fact that so many people  were asking “Did Bellamy come to Sanctum with them?” and weren’t sure of it before the Inside the episode and sneak peeks came out, shows how poorly this scene was done. It should’ve made it crystal clear that Bellamy, Raven and Gabriel were coming back to Sanctum together with Clarke and Cadogan - getting people excited for the next episode.

Rating: 6.5/10 

[misssunflowersandsangria]

This is my Idea

Chapter 4:  House Exchange 

Hello, my little deers!  Happy 4th day of @shikatemaweek ! Omg, we are like halfway through it.  So sad!  It’s been incredible Shikatema babies!  Okie, here’s my next chapter.  I had to get creative with this one but I think that the prompt came through.  Please enjoy it!

Prompt:  House Exchange 

Ages:

Shika:  19

Temari: 21

Summary:  A stay in Suna

*

**

“Temari?”

“I don’t want to talk Kankuro.”  She replied back, turning away from the door.  

“I know, just open up please.”

Annoyed, she stomped over to her door throwing it open.

“What?!”  The person that greeted her on the other side wasn’t who she expected. 

“Shikamaru?”  She’s just been back from Konoha for about a month now and seeing him again brought a multitude of emotions forward.   

“Hey, Temari.”  She fell into his arms and the tears she’d been holding back came rushing like a flood. He carried her back into the room holding her tightly as her tears soaked his vest.  His Princess had been through a lot he needed to be there for her. 

He held her as she cried whispering words of comfort into her hair. In all the time that they’d spent together, he’d never seen her this torn apart. 

When Temari woke up her room was now dark.  She sat up feeling her head pound.

“Hey, drink this.”  She looked up confused seeing Shikamaru handing her a cup of tea.  She must have cried herself to sleep.

“Thank you.”  He nodded settling down next to her and she wordlessly rested her head against his chest as his arm wrapped around her. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Come on Tem.  There’s no way that I was going to let you go through all of this alone.  My parents will be here for the services. I just wanted to be here ahead of time.”  She nodded mumbling a word of thanks into his chest. 

The passing of the Kazekage had come to a shock.  Once he heard the news all he wanted was to be by Temari’s side in Suna.  Nothing else mattered.  He left as soon as he could with little notice.  His parents assured him that it would be okay to go and would follow after tying up some loose ends. 

“I brought some things.”  He shifted to place a bag on the bed.   

“Our friends all sent something for you. There’s a bunch of things in there but I know that Chouji sent you a bag of his favorite chips and Ino sent a face mask that helps with puffiness. I don’t know what that means.” 

She felt genuinely floored by their thoughtfulness and kindness. “Thank you, Shikamaru. This is really sweet.” 

He nodded before taking her hands.  “How are you doing?”

“It hurts.  We weren’t the closest but he was still our father.  I’m worried about my mom.   Everything is going to change now. Gaara is going to become the Kazekage.  Kankuro and I as his advisers.  We have so much to take care of.  I don’t know what we’re going to do-” 

“Tem, calm down it’s okay.  Focus on the present.  The rest of it we’ll figure out.  Your brothers will be okay, Suna will be okay and with time I think that you will be too.”  She nodded settling back into his arms using his heartbeat to ground herself. 

“You’ll be here right.”  She didn’t know if she just meant now, tomorrow, or even far into the future but he just nodded.

“Always.”

*

**

“So we finally meet Shikamaru.”

Shikamaru straightened up surprised, coming face to face with Temari’s mother.  “Queen Karura.”  He bowed deeply.  

“Please let’s not stand on formalities.”

He nodded still a bit nervous in her presence.   “My condolences.  Your husband was a strong leader and he helped usher in an era of peace that may not have been possible otherwise.”

“My family and I appreciate you and your family being here and your kind words.  I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now.  Thank you for taking care of my daughter all these years and for being here for her now.”  She offered her gratitude with a gentle smile.

“Please, no thanks is needed at all.”

“I know but still you have my appreciation.  As her mother, it was difficult to have her away for all that time.  When my husband mentioned that she was in your care it helped ease my worries.  I always miss her when she is gone but she would return each year so happy with such wonderful memories and stories to share.  She mentioned you more times than I can remember.”

“Probably complaining…”  he replied without thinking.  “My apologies!”

Karura just smiled at the flustered Shinobi.  “A few complaints sure but usually she said your name with a kind of fondness I’d never seen before.  You seem to have made an impression on my little girl.”

“Honestly, she’s done the same for me.”  Karura nodded with a smile. 

“Now that Garra will be installed as Kazekage Temari will probably need to remain in Suna throughout the year.  I imagine that next Summer will be the last that she can return to Konoha and remain there for the season in her capacity as ambassador.”  Her words felt like a shock to his system.  He knew that eventually, their arrangement would come to an end.  He didn’t think it would happen so soon. 

A thoughtful look crossed the Queen’s face as she looked out towards the landscape in front of them.  “My daughter is like the desert.  She is untamable, harsh, and wild.  But maybe you can also agree with me that she is also our sun, beaming, bright, beautiful and warm.  She just requires some balance.  Someone that can reflect the beauty and light within her.”

“What are you two talking about?”   They both turned around seeing Temari regard them curiously.  

“Nothing my darling I just felt that it was time for me to meet your dear friend.   I must go greet more people.  Once again, a pleasure to meet you Shikamaru.”  The Queen turned to pull her daughter into a warm hug.  

“I love you my little Sand Storm.”  Temari blushed at the display of affection but returned the hug.

Temari walked over to where Shikamaru was leaning against the railing.  “So that’s my mom.”

“She’s very nice.”

“I know, I’m lucky.”

A warm hand came to brush a stray hair from her eyes.  “How are you doing?”

She took a deep breath before responding.  “I’m okay.  Overwhelmed and needed a break.”  He nodded as they stood there together on the balcony.

“The stars seem brighter out here.  It’s like you always told me.”  

“Yes, cloud watching is great in Konoha but you can’t beat star gazing here in the desert.”  She replied resting her head against his shoulder. 

There were so many thoughts rattling through his head and things that he wanted to say.  Instead, he was content to stand out there with his Princess under the moonlight gazing at the stars. 

*

**

“Tem?”  Shikamaru was surprised to see her standing at his door during the dead of night.  He stepped aside so that she could come in.  

“I just wanted to check on you.  I brought you a fan too.  I know that it gets really hot.  It’s actually been hard to get used to it after spending all those Summers in Konoha.”  She explained placing a small fan by his bedside.  Surprising him she took a seat. 

He knew that he’d probably get his head cut off if someone found her there, but if she needed his company right now then it was worth it.  

There were a few times during her stays in Konoha where she would sleepover at the Nara compound.  Nights similar to this.  They’d play games, stargaze or just stay up late talking.  She needed a distraction so he’d gladly be one.  

They sat side by side leaning back against the headboard sharing a few snacks that Chouji sent with him.  They delved into fond memories of shared Summers.  

“I broke my arm.”

Temari just shook her head.  “You wanted to know what it was like to fly.”

“You were supposed to catch me.”

“You were supposed to use your shadows to catch yourself.”  She argued back remembering that day.  They had a crazy idea one summer that she would create enough wind to levitate him giving him the feeling of flying.  It was a great idea until it wasn’t.  He’d thankfully just broken his arm after the fall but he still held it against her.  She just chuckled before resting against him. 

“We’ve been through a lot together.”   Shikamaru agreed, the queen’s warning ringing in his head.  He wasn’t quite ready for their adventures to end.  He wanted many more shared memories. 

“We helped each other grow.”  He knew that he couldn’t have become half the man he was now without her presence in his life.  

“Is it okay if I stay here?  I’ll leave early.  I just...I don’t want to be alone right now.”  She requested her eyes hopeful.  

“Of course Tem, whatever you need.”

They laid down and she cuddled into his chest his arms wrapping tightly around her.  “Stay here, okay?”  She requested her eyes beginning to flutter asleep.  

He kissed her forehead pulling her even closer.  “I’ll always be here.”

*

**

This is my Idea

Chapter 1:  Trust 

Chapter 2:  Marriage

Chapter 3: Anniversary

Chapter 4: House Exchange 

*

**

I needed at least one story where Temari’s mama was alive and was the sweet mommy she needed.  Give me more stories about Temari’s mom!  Okie, I have two more chapters for this story.  I have a final one but uh it got real smutty, real fast and I’m a little apprehensive about putting it out there.  We shall see!  Okie thanks loves!  Hugs and kisses to you all!  See you tomorrow!

[doopcafe]

The Michael Burnham Show: Die Trying (3x05)

Summary: Michael Burham collects seeds to earn the trust of a Starfleet admiral, above.

Comments: I was so disgruntled from that awful Voyager holodeck episode that I "convinced" Akina to return to Season 3 of Discovery (note: one does not simply convince Akina of anything).

Okay, so we left off with Adira recovering her memories on Trill in Episode 4 and giving Burnham the coordinates to future!Starfleet.

So let’s get this “plot” out of the way first. Discovery meets up with future!Starfleet and the admiral in charge recounts some recent history of the Federation for the audience: they’re down to just a few dozen member worlds, and “without warp,” they’re unable to contact others or coordinate their organization. Skipping over subspace communications and the fact that there were ships warping around the first couple episodes, the admiral thinks the Discovery crew are temporal agents and up to no good. The episode shoves in some dying aliens the first chance it gets and Burnham concocts a plan that drives this episode: She’s gonna use Discovery’s spore drive to jump to the last known coordinates of a seed ship (a seedbank spaceship), get some seeds, then return to cure the nameless aliens (with the seeds). Spoilers: they collect the seeds, cure the aliens, and earn the admiral’s trust.

This show feels like I accidentally wandered into the funeral of a stranger. Everyone is crying, people are expressing heartfelt condolences, and there’s lots of hugging and crying. But... I don’t know any of these people. Sure, I can feel sorry for these people, but can’t feel sorry with these people. I’ve never had the chance to get to know any of them in any meaningful way.

Continuing the analogy, someone tells me that the deceased was a beloved husband, father of four, yadda yadda, which helps me understand what’s happening at a cognitive level but not at an emotional one. Who is this guy that died again? Did I know him? Maybe someone I once knew in high school, or...?

That’s the feeling of Star Trek Discovery. There’s a scene in this episode that illustrates the idea. Nan (?), the security chief (?), decides she’s gonna leave Discovery. On cue, Burnham cries and then Nan cries and everyone cries (and hugs) and talks about friendship and feelings but like... have we met this lady? She came aboard with Pike, right? What has she done since? I vaguely remember Nan saying “yum yum” in response to Georgiou saying something about “joining her in making Leland scream” in the middle of kicking things. See, I remember that because it was emotional. Sure, that emotion was overwhelmingly “cringe,” but it was still an emotion and I remember it. Nan says super cringey, sexualized things at inappropriate times. Got it.

But here (in this episode, as an example), some character is leaving the ship and I’m just watching the funeral of Star Trek that I accidentally wandered into. Yes, I understand that maybe Burnham and Nan got drunk together a few times, played pranks on Saru or whatever, and shared a few laughs together, but we never get to see any of that shit. So... Who is this lady again? Why should I care?

Anyways, they just leave Nan on the ship that’s running on auxiliary power right next to an ion storm. Yup, just left her aboard, alone with a fatally wounded psychopath who wants to kill himself. Nan and Burnham emerge from their unearned emotional embrace, Burnham’s like “one to beam up,” then Nan walks over to the window and by the time she gets there, Discovery is already spore jumping away.

Jeez, I hope they transported over some emergency rations or supplies or something. No one aboard questioned why Burnham was returning to Discovery alone?

Anyways! Georgiou only kicks one thing in this episode and it wasn’t even sentient, so that was a nice change—

Wait a minute... In the scene when Discovery wanders into future!Starfleet HQ and there’s ships all over the place, the Discovery bridge crew is, well, having an Unearned Emotional Moment™ about some of the ships. Then someone—Tilly I think—notices the USS Voyager... but with registration number suffix of “J,” the eleventh generation of the ship.

How does the Discovery crew know what Voyager is?

They’re from before Voyager’s time, right? And the Sphere data they’ve collected is also from before Voyager’s time... so while the crew might know what Trill are from the Sphere, the Sphere could not have collected data on Voyager, right? And they jumped way into the future, well after Voyager’s time. Did I miss something again?

Look, these are all small things, but the occurrence is so prolific that it’s extravagantly clear the writers have no knowledge of canon or use for internal consistency. Which, honestly is fine... if you create something better than the original. But if you vomit garbage, that second nail in the coffin (internal inconsistency) just hurts a little more than the first (poor writing).

My enjoyment: 1/5

Did all the lower-ranked crewmembers aboard Discovery also travel to the future? Jeez Burnham, literally everyone on the ship must really love you.

[cinnamonzor]

BrattyShipping Headcanons Pt. 6

Previous Posts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

New Home

- The property the two ultimately decide on is along the route to Ballonlea Stadium. The location makes it easy for challengers and spectators to notice on their way through and, though the town is smaller anyway, it also ensures an easy trek for Bede.

- Bede attempts to ensure that the location isn’t too far from Opal’s house. They try to be more subtle in their motivations, though Victor catches on fairly quickly and assures them that it’s high on the priority list.

- Remodeling the first floor into restaurant space takes around six months. Since the construction process is primarily concentrated on the restaurant space for a while, Victor is left in charge of working with the crew for that time.

- Victor starts regularly staying up with extra logistical work after the crew leaves. Eventually, Nurse Joy finds him conked out in front of the Pokemon Center at one in the morning, having fallen asleep on his way back home for the night. His partner gives him a very stern lecture about his self-neglectful tendencies and insists he sleep at Opal’s house when he’s too exhausted to reasonably make it to Postwick or set up camp somewhere.

- Several times over the course of the next week, Bede wakes to find Victor passed out either on the couch or next to them in bed, with complete certainty that he wasn’t there when they fell asleep. Opal admits she got curious herself and waited him out one night, and Bede nearly has an aneurysm when she reveals he ended up groggily arriving at quarter to two. Victor gets an even sterner lecture than last time as soon as he wakes up.

- From then on, Bede makes a habit of heading to the site as soon as they close the gym. As expected, Victor is concerned about them going out of their way to help with the extra work on top of their own job. And, as expected, their stubbornness ultimately wins out in the end.

- Victor quickly learns that attempting to stay up unreasonable amounts of time is futile, as Bede can and will physically drag him away if he tries to work past eleven p.m.

- Victor is organized in the sense that he perfectly understands his system but is the only one who can. Bede quickly learns the most efficient way to go about it is to simply ask him to find or point out what they need instead of spending half an hour trying to find it themselves.

- They make a point to take at least one day off a week during the process, usually spending it with their respective families, doing their own things around Galar, or hanging out with Gloria, Hop, and Marnie.

- Most of the work on the second floor living space is saved for the League’s off-season so Bede has more time to get involved. Not much is changed from the standard Ballonlea interior design, aside from moving the living room stuff upstairs and a couple personal touches.

- Victor insists they keep the Vengeance Board in their room, adding his own mementos of Bede to it that he’s kept over the years.

- The living space only takes half the time of the first floor to prepare, since converting the first floor into a restaurant was more complicated. Both are around twenty when the process is completed and they’re finally ready to move in.

- Bede helps with the restaurant’s employee-hiring process at their own insistence. Victor’s ends up with a case of déjà vu from how similar their methodology is to Opal’s when he challenged her gym puzzle.

- They invited their friends and families to the unofficial pre-opening the day before the restaurant is open to the public. Gloria ensures Raihan is among those who show up, knowing he’ll have the most success spreading the word through his social media.

- When everyone leaves for the night, Bede takes care of both of their Pokemon and orders a pizza for their own dinner so Victor can take a much-needed break after catering for everyone at once.

Domesticity

- Victor sets up a small TV in the restaurant set to the League channel. His attention will occasionally wander to it whenever one of Bede or Marnie’s matches plays.

- The Ballonlea Stadium and restaurant are usually closed on the same days. Victor and Bede’s relationship still isn’t public, so the common theory is that the restaurant follows the schedule since it uses the stadium to draw in customers. A couple of the employees manage to connect the dots though.

- Neither of them are full-blown morning people. The closest to being one is Bede, but only because they can will themselves out of bed faster. Victor usually has an easier time getting up once Bede is up and about.

- On the occasion Victor still can’t bring himself to get up, Bede enlists the help of his Boltund to lick his face till he’s awake.

- Victor usually makes breakfast while Bede is in charge of coffee. Strangely enough, Victor’s Inteleon has taken to drinking it too.

- Bede is the resident blanket-hog, since they need warmth to sleep. Victor manages to avoid being affected by it by being the self-proclaimed “resident Bede-hog” and clinging to them like a Komala more often than not.

- Victor’s clinging habits have earned him the role of big spoon more often than not. Bede refuses to openly acknowledge this and Victor only brings it up in private to playfully tease them.

- Gloria got them a queen-sized weighted blanket as a housewarming gift, since Victor’s old one wouldn’t accommodate them both.

- On the occasion Hop is working in the Ballonlea area, he’s invited to crash on their couch.

- When Gloria learns about this arrangement, she extends the offer to herself and just shows up one night. She claims it’s mostly to mess with Bede, but it’s also partially because she misses living with her brother.

- Due to Victor’s nature as a mediator, the two don’t have full-blown fights often, and when they do, they usually don’t last longer than two or three days. Gloria’s short-lived “invasion,” as she and Bede refer to it, was the cause of one of the longer ones, as Bede were fairly upset that Victor was just letting her barge in basically unannounced, while Victor was upset by Bede’s behavior towards his sister. When Gloria finds out, she ends up feeling guilty about it. In a rare move for her, she sincerely apologizes to the two and admits her true motivation behind showing up.

- Bede is the most ticklish of the two. If you don’t think Victor takes advantage of this at least a couple times, you’re horribly mistaken.

- Hop offers to watch the restaurant for a day or two so they can have time off for their anniversary. They spend it camping in the Slumbering Weald after a quick visit to Victor’s old home in Postwick.

- Victor starts growing plants that he finds interesting or ingredient-worthy around the house. A number of leaves and vines can be seen spilling out the second-floor windows from outside.

- Bede doesn’t collect anything, but they can regularly be seen caring for the local wild Pokemon that tend to hang out near the restaurant. They’ve managed to learn all of them in the time they’ve lived in town.

- Bede usually takes the longest to get ready, as they’re generally fussier about their appearance. Victor mostly just tidies up and throws on comfy clothes.

- After one of them has a rough day, a favorite de-stressor activity of theirs is cuddling on the couch and watching the soft colors of Ballonlea’s bioluminescent mushrooms through the window.

- Victor suggests dancing around the living room or the closed restaurant in the mushroom light a few nights. Bede doesn’t get it at first, but once they try it they end up enjoying it a lot (they still call Victor a mushy sap, of course, but Victor knows they mean it in a good way).

- Victor has an entire album on his Rotom Phone dedicated to pictures he’s taken of or with Bede. A number are candid shots of them in instances where Victor decided they looked particularly adorable (like the time he found them caring for an injured Phantump) or hot (like the time the wind from a Dynamax attack hit them just right and made their now longer hair look so freaking majestic). Others are more... “private” ones Bede has sent him themselves.

- Bede has grown accustomed to Victor’s holiday enthusiasm by now. And now that they live together, they have essentially no escape from joining his festive spirit. They end up coming to the Stadium wearing a mistletoe earring a couple times in December, though the Gym Trainers know better than to pry.

Coping

(WARNING: This part delves a tad further into Bede’s abandonment issues and general grieving process. If you aren’t a huge fan of this stuff or it hits a bit too close to home, I’d advise moving past. If you ARE a fan of this stuff, good for you. Hope you enjoy.)

- When Opal eventually passes away, Bede is completely devastated. They end up not leaving the house for a solid week, only trusting Victor to see them in such a vulnerable state.

- Bede’s abandonment issues begin to act up during their grieving process. They become unexpectedly clingy for a while, terrified of losing Victor too since he’s the only person other than Opal they allowed themselves to get as attached to.

- Their friends and the other gym leaders each offer their condolences and to help out however they can. It’s mostly up to Victor to accept their help since Bede tries to insist they’re fine without it.

- When Victor can’t be around to help, Bede’s primary means of comfort is Hatterene, since they have the strongest bond with her, she can keep an eye on their emotional state, and her body is made of hair, giving them something soft to hug when they need to.

- It’s primarily through the help of Victor and their Pokemon that Bede starts healing from her loss. Victor even steps up to keep the media off their back until they’re finally ready for comment.

- The two end up taking in Opal’s Pokemon in addition to their own. Bede also dedicates one of the front-row seats at the Stadium to her.

- It’s thanks to the event that Victor finally convinces Bede to see a therapist instead of relying on one or two people for their entire support system. After the first few sessions, Bede reluctantly agrees that it’s helping them more than they expected.

[therandomfics]

Three Days: 2

The sound of the shower starting drew you from your slumber and dropped you back into the bitter reality of what was happening. For a moment you were disoriented - had it really happened that way? But within a few moments, you’d rolled over and checked your phone to see the myriad of missed calls and text messages with condolences and prayer promises. 

Sonny poked his head out of the bathroom and offered you a half smile. “Good morning, beautiful. Come join me?” 

You nodded meekly and padded over to him, embracing his half clothed form. Pressing your face against his bare chest, you sighed heavily and squeezed him close to you. “We have a lot to get done today. Aunt Judy doesn’t want us wasting any time.” 

He kissed the top of your head and pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. “Let’s take it one step at a time.” 

The halls of Mass Gen were quiet, surprisingly, for such a depressing ward. Your father’s room was midway down the hall, and the door was wide open as you approached. Your eyes fell upon your father as you saw his fragile existence, barely holding on to what was left of his life. 

“Oh Dad,” you said with a shaky sigh, closing the gap between you and placing your hand on his. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were sick.” 

“He didn’t, either,” your brother promised you, hovering in the doorway. 

Sonny stood a few feet away from you, hands in his pockets awkwardly. Surely he was out of place. He dealt with murder and assault all the time, but seeing his father in law on his death bed was a new type of trauma for the seasoned detective turned lawyer. 

“What’s happened to him?” you asked, barely looking up as a nurse entered the room and checked vitals, jotting notes on the tablet that was your father’s chart. 

She sighed. “Your father’s been diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer.” 

“What kind?” you inquired, brushing your finger over the back of your father’s hand.

“Lung,” she explained, gesturing to the oxygen that your father was currently depending on to survive. “He came in yesterday complaining about breathing concerns and once the doctor took a closer look, we could only confirm the worst. I’m so sorry for your trouble.” The nurse nodded with a frown and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts at your father’s bedside. 

“I wish I would have known, I could have moved back here and taken care of you, Dad. I would have done anything. Maybe there’s still a chance, though? They’re not always right, and you’re a fighter. Maybe it’s just a misdiagnosis?” you wondered aloud, tears welling in your eyes. 

As you dabbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, you felt the air in the room change. Suddenly, there was noise that filled the room, rushing of nurses and doctors screaming for you and your family to leave the room, physically pushing you out of the way. You collided with your brother and tumbled out of the way, finding yourself in the hall with Sonny finally emerging from the room. 

Several long minutes passed as you heard the calls for “clear” and “more oxygen” from the hallway. You slumped down against the wall and sat on the floor, pulling your knees close to your chest, trying to disappear from the hospital and back to a place that wasn’t full of misery. 

“Y/N,” you heard Sonny saying, realizing the silence was back and the overbearing noise of resuscitation was gone. 

You shook your head and pushed yourself up to your feet, refusing to hear whatever awful news that Sonny was about to give you. Your brother reached out to grab your arm but you shrugged him away, marching straight into your father’s hospital room. 

It was too late. 

“I know that we have a lot to do today, but I want to make sure that you eat. Your brother was telling me about a place a few blocks down that opened up recently. Let’s go there, then we can meet up with everyone else,” Sonny was saying, washing his hair with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. 

“That’s a good idea.” You washed off the remainder of the soap on your body and then kissed his jaw. “You’re the best thing in the world to ever happen to me.” 

“Mutual,” he said with a small shrug, stepping back as you pulled the curtain to get out of the shower. 

Over a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and coffee, you mapped the day out with Sonny. After breakfast, you’d head back to your father’s home, where everyone would be waiting. His last wishes were to be buried at his family plot, with a simple service that highlighted his life’s accomplishments and how proud he was of his children and grandchildren. After coordinating and contacting the funeral home, you’d have to order flowers, plan the meal situation for the service, and make sure that you met with your father’s lawyer to confirm any final details regarding his burial. 

It was a lot, you had to admit, but knowing that Sonny was there made things seem so much more simple. 

As you sat at a window table with your husband, you couldn’t help but thank God that you’d been given the best gift in the world. In between bites he caught you staring and reached out to grasp your hand in his. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m here. We’re gonna get through this together.” 

When you walked back into your father’s house, you were immediately greeted by two rambunctious and excited little boys - your nephews. They embraced you and spoke over one another trying to get the most of your attention as possible, that is until they saw Sonny. They ran to him and jumped into his arms, hugging him and starting the process all over. Your sister in law came around the corner and folded her arms, crossly observing her children’s behavior. 

“Let them be happy. Someone needs to be,” you said, lips pulling into a frown. 

“Well, they’re my kids, so I think I get the final say in how they’re raised,” she retorted and yelled at her children to get down and go back to the living room. “They need to learn their place. They’ve been getting on my nerves all day and there isn’t a single thing for them to do in this house.” 

“Yeah. Kinda like my Dad didn’t have any young children living here, so he decorated how he saw fit.” You shrugged and brushed past her, heading into the living room where the rest of your family was stationed. 

“Sonny and I will handle food and flowers,” you announced and stood in the doorway to the living room. Sonny came to stand beside you and smiled at your family, the family that he’d only met once at the wedding. “I really appreciate you all coming together for this. Aunt Judy, I know that due to your health concerns you’d like this as orderly and speedy as possible. I respect that. So I’d like to finalize plans today. Dad will be prepared for burial by tomorrow, so I’d like to make sure that we respect each other’s time and do this together, efficiently.” 

“We’ll get with the funeral home,” your brother offered, glancing at his wife who merely shrugged. “Dad already had everything paid for and picked out, so we just need to confirm that they’ll be able to accommodate us.” 

“Great. You guys are more than welcome to stay here and visit with one another. We’re going to go ahead and get started on everything.” You felt Sonny place his hand on the small of your back and guide you closer to him, where you naturally fit under his shoulder. 

“Thank you guys for being here. I know it means a lot to Y/N and myself. I left my cell number on the fridge if you guys need anything while we’re out,” he concluded, and gently but confidently guided you from the living room and back towards the entrance to the house. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, cupping your chin in his hand to bring your gaze back to his eyes. 

You nodded and met his eyes. “I’ve gotta get it done.” 

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours for a long moment. “At anytime you need a break, you tell me. You don’t have to do it all.” 

“I know, thank you. Let’s get as much done as possible. I love my Dad but I’m tired of being in Boston already,” you complained and pulled away from him to leave the house. 

Flowers ordered. Check. Food to feed up to 50 people. Check. Meeting with your father’s lawyer to ensure that his final wishes were being met. Check. 

The only thing left was to get with your brother to see if he had secured a time for the services. 

On the drive back from the North Shore, you stared out the window and fought the urge to break down. Why was there never enough time to grieve? Why was it so sudden? Could you really ever honestly be prepared, even if you knew someone was going to die at a certain time? What would happen when Sonny died? What if you died first, would Sonny be okay? You wanted Sonny to die first so that he wouldn’t have to go through the suffering of losing you and living alone. Try as you might, you found yourself sniffling on the ride back home. 

“Where’d your mind take you?” Sonny asked as he turned onto the street lined with brownstones that your father had called home for so many years. 

“I don’t you to die, but I’d rather you go first so that you don’t have to live without me,” you explained and wiped the tears from your face. 

“If you go first, I’ll never get remarried,” he promised, parking the car and killing the engine. “Come inside with me. I’ll make you some tea, and we can watch Tom and Jerry. Your brother told me that you and your Dad watched it a lot together when you were little. Let’s relive some good memories, huh?” 

“Dad also used to make me grilled cheese sandwiches....” you trailed off and looked at him with a mischievous smile. 

“Alright,” he replied and opened the car door. “But only if you’re good.” 

[allie1804-fan]

Ile de Re (Chapter 6)

1 2 3 4 5  6 7 8

Claire woke first the next morning. They’d stopped spooning at some point during the night and Keanu was lying on his back with one arm up on the pillow near his face. He looked angelic and so much younger than his 55 years. 

Claire thought back to the night before and the powerful physical sensations and feelings he’d stirred in her.  

She was confused by her decision now to ask him to make love to her. It was what she needed and desired at the time, but she hadn’t listened to his warning about the consequences and now, despite the pleasure and comfort it had brought her, she regretted it. A door had been opened that couldn’t be closed and she wasn’t sure walking through it was going to bring her happiness. She was afraid she was falling in love with a man 20 years her senior who, it seemed, thought it was too late to have children – something she had always thought would be in her future.  She needed to decide quickly what to say to him when he woke up. Would it be awkward?  – normally with a lover you knew if you were going to wake up and snuggle then make love again or wake up and walk away. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t do the latter as it was her home and he was her guest.  Maybe they could just go back to being friends - “yeah right, who am I kidding after what he did for me last night?!”

She knew honesty was the best policy but she wasn’t ready to have a deep conversation just yet – especially one that she feared might mean he would leave because he thought it couldn’t work between them. She wasn’t a game player or manipulator, but she wasn’t past using avoidance as a tactic.

She lay next to him then, just staring at and admiring the perfect bone structure of his face and his  strong, muscular arms. He seemed to sense her watching him and opened his eyes.

“Bonjour” she greeted him

“Bonjour to you too” he said softly smiling.

“I hope you slept well, listen I’m going to go fetch the bread for breakfast. Can you start a pot of coffee?  - and then, if it’s OK with you, after we’ve eaten, I’d like to do something fun for a change. Maybe we can go and hire you a bike and I can show you some more of the island? You should experience the cycling here before you leave.”

 “OK, sure - I’d like that very much”

He desperately wanted to know how she felt about last night but thought that maybe comfort was all she had wanted after all and just for one night. Maybe she hadn’t felt the same connection and was able to just walk away – if so, he’d have to too. He’d slept restlessly because of his thoughts about it. He held his curiosity in check and rose with her to dress and get breakfast ready.

They feasted on coffee, croissants and pain au levant (sour dough) with butter and jam. Keanu joked that he’d need to back to the gym after this trip as she could feel his stomach thickening was a result of all the delicious food.

“Well the bike ride will help you burn off some calories I guess” she said

After their plates were empty, they tidied away and prepared a few things to take with them on the bike ride – a bottle of water, a first aid kit and some biscuits plus a rug in case they wanted to stop and rest somewhere. Then they made their way down to the village and the bike rental place to find  a suitable bike. She walked along with her own bike so they could ride on together on their trip straight away.

They headed south first to Ars en Re across the vine fields - its church spire (tall and white and topped with a black cone) acting as a guide to them of how far they had left to go. 

They stopped there and mooched around the shops including an artists’ studio on the harbour. Keanu recognised the artist’s work from postcards he’d seen in the local shops and decided to go in and look at purchasing a full-size piece. They really captured the essence of the island and he thought he’d like a memory of it on his wall at home. He found one with sailing boats and the harbour and church in the background and bought it - Claire helped with arranging extra payment for carriage home rather than risk damaging it on the flight.

Afterwards, they carried on across the salt marshes where they stopped to buy some local salt ‘en directe’ that Claire said she’d take home for cooking. The cycle paths were empty with it being early in the season and they could ride side by side and talk. They each purposefully kept the conversation light – the film, the restaurant , the new John Wick film that Keanu would start filming soon and so on - no mention was made of the night before.

It was 1pm when they reached the next village (La Couarde sue Mer) and they chose a little restaurant in the village centre that Claire knew to have lunch. 

Keanu had gone in to use the bathroom passing a man in chef’s whites as he went who turned out to be the owner. On seeing Claire arrive he had immediately come out – he kissed her on both cheeks and offered his condolences about her father. Keanu thought he recognised him from the wake – he hoped he was gone by the time he got back - he didn’t want any particular attention.  Happily, that was the case and they enjoyed a bowl of mussels and chips each only getting a couple of curious glances from waiters and fellow patrons – the look Keanu recognised as ‘don’t I know you from somewhere?’!

 Claire encouraged him to take the Eclade de moules which was the local speciality – a slightly creamy sauce over the mussels flavoured mildly with curry. Claire took the traditional moules marinieres and said they could swap if he didn’t like the “eclade” – once he’d tucked in, he wasn’t going to relinquish the bowl however – it was surprisingly tasty!

After lunch, they went down to the beach for a while and sat on the rocks watching the waves. Claire pointed out the tourist beaches along the coast down to Le Bois Plage and St Marie and the wilder coast up towards her home village. They could also see the other larger island of Oleron across the way and she shared some of the local history.

“We could take a boat trip if you like one day – there’s some really interesting history about Napoleon on Ile d’Aix with a little museum to explore.

“No way!” Keanu chuckled “that would be most excellent”

“are you being sarcastic?” Claire asked, a quizzical look on her face.

“We really need to watch a couple of my movies you know!” he said emphatically – “I’ll have you know, that was not sarcasm but a reference to a film called “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure” in which I travel though time and kidnap Napoleon to help me pass a history exam. It’s kind of famous!”

“Oh sounds weird!  - I’m so sorry I don’t know it”

“Well, I guess you would only have been about, errm, let’s do the math, 5 when it came out! He laughed and shook his head, “Man I am so old!”

“Well you don’t seem it to me!” she said meeting his eyes and blushing as did he.                    

“Hey why don’t we try get Netflix or whatever set up later and I can show you it  - then maybe we could take that boat trip next time it’s running and see all that Napoleonic history?” They had had such a nice time so far that day that he’d started to forget about the night before and he wanted to keep things light and away from any compliments between them which might take them back into that territory.

They agreed to return home next, stopping for provisions for dinner. Later they booked tickets for the boat trip when it would next be running in a couple of days and organised their film night for the evening.

They chose Bill and Ted and Point Break to watch that night, both of which Claire loved especially the Napoleon moments in B&TEA and the foot chase in Point Break.

Over the next few days they had a total break from death related jobs and from the location scouting with Claire playing tourist guide. They did more cycle rides through forests and to beaches. Claire joked that Keanu should demonstrate his surfing skills but he said it had been way too long since he’d done it – he’d get wiped in the spring tides!

The boat trip was a wonderful excursion and took them from the island’s capital St Martin then around the coastline and under the island’s spectacular bridge before heading out past Ile d’Oleron and the famous Fort Boyard (where the real life Papillon of film fame was imprisoned) Finally it went on to Ile d’Aix where Napoleon stayed in exile before going to St Helena. Keanu loved history and relished seeing the house where he had stayed and the artefacts. Before catching the boat home they also had chance to grab a sandwich and walk around some of the island which was tiny at only 7km around.

 By the time they got home they were exhausted and had a simple supper of bread and cheese before slumping down to watch another movie. Claire was loving watching his old films that she’d missed growing up. Yesterday had been Speed and The Matrix – quite an overwhelming action combo. Tonight they thought one would be all they could manage but they struggled to decide.  Keanu had made a list of the titles that he thought were the key ones she should see and numbered them off - Claire picked a number  -  it was “The Lake House.”

They settled next to each other on the sofa.  At the porch scene, Claire needed a tissue and by the end, tears were streaming down her face.  

“That was truly beautiful” she sniffed as the theme song struck up again.

“Thanks, I like it” Keanu said humbly. Their eyes locked as McCartney sang ‘this never happened before’ and ‘this is the way it should be for lovers’ over and over. Claire looked down and took a breath.

“It never happened to me before either” she whispered looking up again, her eyes pleading with him to understand her meaning.

“You’re talking about what we did the other night?” he stated

“Yes she said, well not just that but yes, it was ………. beyond wonderful. I know I asked only to be comforted, and I needed the physical release  - and you gave me that  ……… but then I got something else I wasn’t expecting. The, errrm

“Connection?” he interjected.

“Yes!” she agreed emphatically.

“A connection like that, well it was something I’ve only felt once before ………… and, well, it took my breath away”, she looked at him searching to see his thoughts reflected in his expression.

He took her hand in his and whispered

“I felt it too.”

Her shoulders visibly relaxed as the knowledge that the feelings were shared.

“So, what are we going to do about it?” she asked?

“Honestly, I don’t know. That night, I could hardly sleep for thinking about it. I wondered how you felt – then after you just never mentioned it these past few days, I decided that maybe one night of physical closeness was all you wanted. I need you to know that I didn’t come here planning to take advantage of you, I just wanted to help but now I feel so much for you after such a short time”

He paused and she could read the doubt in his eyes

“But?”

“But” he paused again trying to find the right words “even though my feelings are so strong, I don’t know if we’re right for each other, I mean because I may not be able to give you what you want from life, because maybe I’m too old for you”

“You’re only as old as you feel right?” she countered

“Yes, but shit man it’s 20 years! And there’s mortality to consider, and ……” there was a (quite literally) pregnant pause.

“babies” she said, naming the elephant in the room.

“and yes, there’s babies – if you want them. I’m not sure I do, not now. I’m set in my ways. I’m often away filming for months on end. I will be again soon, in New York, for several months. It can be quite a gypsy existence.  And who knows if my sperm are still capable!’ he chuckled.

She leaned in and kissed him gently, cupping his cheek with her left hand

“So what happened to seizing the day, to living in the moment because we’re all gonna die anyway?  - that’s what you said on the plane when we talked about grief.”

He repeated her gesture, softly kissing her. Closed lipped and cupping her face in his hand.

“Claire I just don’t wanna hurt you and I’m scared I might. If it weren’t for the age difference, I’d rush to start a relationship with you but” he paused again. “There’s a character I played in a movie. I think you’d like it. It’s romantic and there are vineyards in it! Anyway my character, Paul, he’s married, but to a wife who he married in a hurry in the war and it turns out when he returns that they’re completely incompatible. He meets and falls in love with another woman who falls for him too but after kissing her and very nearly making love, he pulls away and says <<I want you more than anything Victoria, you can't imagine how I want you. But I'm not free and I won't hurt you that way, I won’t >>” 

He recited it sincerely, word for word from the movie, reliving the moment as Paul Sutton. So I feel a bit like him. I’m not married, well not to a woman at least, but maybe a little bit, no a lot, to acting and to my freedom to pursue it. I want to do the right thing by you and I’m not sure getting into a relationship is it.”

Her eyes filled with tears and he implored her to understand, a pained expression in his eyes.

“I have commitments too you know, things I’d have to compromise on to make time for you. That’s what relationships are about right? Love on the one hand and compromise on the other?”

“Ah ha” he replied yet still sounding doubtful

Claire sighed, her eyes sad and still teary “well, I’m going to bed.  I’m glad we talked but I’m tired now. I’ll see you in the morning”

Keanu didn’t answer, staring glumly at his hands which lay in his lap and she got up and went upstairs to bed.

“Fuck” he whispered as he sat alone and disconsolate.

He went to bed too where he slept restlessly, thinking each time he stirred that he could just go to her and say yes to trying to make it work, but the more he thought about that option, the more the fear of failure and heartache if it didn’t work grew in his mind. By 6am, he was convinced that fleeing the scene was the only option. 

He had two more restaurants to visit within a 100 miles of La Rochelle and decided to go to them on the motorbike he’d hired and take some time to think. He wrote Claire a note explaining that he thought a breather would be good right now and he’d be back in a couple of days. Slinging a few clean clothes and his toiletries in a backpack, he hit the open road.

1 2 3 4 5  6 7 8

[beneaththetangles]

Super Bowl LIV for Otaku

Welcome to the wonderful world of football! While otaku and football don’t seem to align (we all have seen the jocks vs. geeks mentality that society tries to throw at us), the reality is much different. Like any other sport, football has a wide audience and can be enjoyable to watch. A few of our staff are football fans who have been watching all season, and as such, we’ve seen the ups and the downs of an interesting 2019 season.

The goal of any football game is for each team to score the most points by moving the football from one end of the field to the other. Getting the football on foot across the goal line gives a team 6 points (touchdown), allowing for an opportunity for one or two extra points. Getting it across the line in the air by kicking it through the uprights gives them 3 points (field goal). Each team gets 4 chances to move the ball forward when they are on offense. If they move the ball a total of 10 yards, those chances (downs) restart at 1 again. A more detailed listing of the rules of play can be found on the NFL’s official website here.

The season ends with the strongest team of the two conferences of the NFL (AFC and NFC) battling it out in an annual match called the Super Bowl.

Why it Matters

Now, you may be asking yourself—why does the Super Bowl matter? For someone who does not watch football much, it is understandable why you may not be interested in the big game, but consider this—the Super Bowl is an annual cultural touchstone.

Every year, the Super Bowl is by far the most watched program on television for the year. Having a passing understanding of what it is and what happens can be helpful as the world around you discusses the event. It is also one of the few remaining shared experiences in American culture—a single day, a single game that nearly all Americans watch.

Does that mean it will be a good game? Not necessarily. Does it mean it can be fun? Absolutely. Sharing this game with a group of friends can make the experience all the better.

Also, even if you do not love the sport, let’s not forget what a capitalism means in the case of a television event—advertising agencies step up their game. Lots of money and lots of eyes on the game means lots of clever, new advertisements. While a silly reason to watch, these ads can be a lot of fun as mini-distractions between the game itself.

The Schedule

As inferred above, the Super Bowl isn’t just about the game—there’s a full schedule of events on the calendar, some that might interest you more than others. Wanna check out the National Anthem? Be sure to get there on time. Not interested? Grab your guac and chips while the singer wails.

Here’s the basic info:

Location: Hard Rock Stadium (Miami Gardens, FL) TV: Fox Stream: Fox Sports App and fuboTV Game day / time: February 2, 2020 at 6:30 p.m. (ET)

The National Anthem, to be sung by Demi Lovato, occurs shortly before kick-off. Even before that, Yolanda Adams will perform “America the Beautiful.” The halftime show lasts about 20-30 minutes and starts at varying times, depending on how quickly the game is being played, though somewhere around 8:00 p.m. is expected. Jennifer Lopez and Shakira will be the performers.

The Season

AFC Breakdown

The AFC had a wild ride. Before the season began, everyone had the Cleveland Browns, New England Patriots, and Kansas City Chiefs on their radar screen. By the end of the season, the Baltimore Ravens were unexpectedly the number one seed with a 14-2, the best in the NFL. The New England Patriots, who won the 2019 Super Bowl, were overall in 3rd place in the playoffs and did not receive a by-week for the first time in nearly a decade. The Browns ended up the season with a losing record of 6-10. The Chiefs, however, were the AFC Champion and proceed to the Super Bowl

The biggest surprise of the playoffs was the fantastic run of the Tennessee Titans. The Titans entered the playoffs in 6th place with a 9-7 record. Their season ended hot and their shot at the playoffs required losses by other teams, wins by them, and their victory strength being high enough. There are a ton of tie-breaking rules that went into the Titans favor. Then, in back-to-back away games, the Titans defeated the #3 ranked New England Patriots and #1 ranked Baltimore Ravens on their way to the AFC Championship game. The Titans lost in the AFC Championship to the #2 ranked Chiefs in a 35 to 24 loss.

NFC Breakdown

It’s been quite a year in the NFC as well. Though they came off a lost in last year’s Super Bowl (the New England Patriots defeated the Los Angeles Rams), the conference was widely considered the stronger one coming into the season, which bore that out.

Speaking of the Rams, last year’s NFC representative, they were among the disappointing teams this year. Despite as strong second half, they missed the playoffs, as did the Dallas Cowboys, another team many predicted to go the Super Bowl (they fired their head coach after the season; the Rams did not).

Three teams in the conference finished with 13-3 records this season and as the regular season ended, they were all considered strong possibilities to advance to the championship. New Orleans, on of the 13-3 teams, was upset early in the playoffs. The other two, the Green Bay Packers and San Francisco 49ers, met in the NFC Championship game, where the latter dismantled the earlier, 37-20.

The Matchup

The big game is going to be a match up between the San Francisco 49ers and the Kansas City Chiefs. Both are high scoring teams who have won a number of come from behind victories. Overall the two teams have scored nearly 150 more points than their opponents in regular season games. That…is a lot. Let’s break it down a little bit.

Kansas City Chiefs

The Kansas City Chiefs are led by an explosive young quarterback in Patrick Mahomes. Mahomes is on his third season in the NFL only his second as the full time starting quarterback. The 2018-2019 season MVP, Mahomes had a fantastic season throwing for 26 touchdowns and rushing for 2 of them. Mahomes is one of those players that is just fun to watch because you never know what he’s going to do.

The Chiefs are coached by an Elder Statesman in Andy Reid. Teams coached by Andy Reid have accumulated a total of 221 wins in his career, making him the 6th most winningist coach in NFL history. This will be his second time as head coach to go to the Super Bowl; however, the last time he was the head coach of the Philadelphia Eagles in in 2005.

The Chiefs’ season has been generally high scoring with big wins the back of Mahomes. Apart from a short period where Mahomes was injured, the Chiefs season has seen victory after victory against strong opponents including the other two top seeds in the AFC (Ravens, Patriots). With the dangers both in the air and ground, the Chiefs are a tough team to beat.

San Francisco 49ers

The San Francisco 49ers quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo has 2 Super Bowl rings…where he served as the backup quarterback for the New England Patriots. He never really got a chance as the Patriots have Tom Brady as their starter until 2016. In 2016, Brady was suspended for 4 games and Garoppolo started two of them before being injured. After being traded to the 49ers, Garoppolo did not get a chance to start until Week 12 when the starter and backup quarterbacks were both injured. With only one win prior to that, Garappolo led the 49ers to close out the season with 5 wins and 1 loss. In the 2018 season, Garappolo sarted out strong, but was injured early in the season. 2019 saw a healthy Garoppolo throwing for 3,978 passing yards. His strong arm and their solid run offense led the 49ers to one of their first winning seasons in a decade.

The 49ers are coached by Kyle Shanahan, son of 3 time Super Bowl winning Head Coach Mike Shanahan. With a healthy team in 2019, Shanahan’s coaching has seen a dominating season with the 49ers ending with a 13-3 record and the #1 overall NFC seed. The NFC West was a strong division with last year’s Super Bowl contenders (Los Angeles Rams) as well as the Seattle Seahawks (11-5 record).

While generally a high scoring team, the 49ers also have had a number of incredibly close games this season; half of their games were decided by a touchdown or less. Their strong defense have helped them in clutch situations, allowing their high flying offense to get back on the field and win.

The Buzz

As the game gets closer, the stories around the game take on a life of their own. Sometimes, they become the story. This year, though—and unfortunately—the biggest story in sports isn’t Super Bowl-related at all. You’ve almost certainly heard that Kobe Bryant, along with a 13-year-old daughter and a number of other individuals, died in a helicopter crash in California. Because Kobe was the best player in the league during the formative years for many current professional athletes, his death has impacted the community tremendously. Even football players have given their condolences, often very personal ones, about Bryant. It’s created an unusual atmosphere in Miami, as one of celebration is muted just a bit by the seriousness of the crash.

There are other stories that will be referenced throughout the broadcast as well:

The start of Free Agency, the period where most football players who have completed their contracts or have been released by teams may negotiate with other teams for new contracts, is in March, and the list of available players this year contains some very big names, especially at the sexiest position, quarterback. Tom Brady, considered by many to be the best quarterback in NFL history (the GOAT: Greatest of All Time), will be a free agent for the first time in his career, and has stated that he wants to explore the process, meaning he may not return the only team he’s played for during his 20-year career. Where he and others will impact next season, as well as the upcoming NFL Draft, which occurs in late April, and where at least three QB prospects may be selected in the first few picks.

The 2019 season was the 100th for the NFL, and the League has celebrated all year in a variety of ways, including the naming of a 100th Anniversary Team. A special group of “centennial” Hall of Fame inductees were also recently announced, while the remaining modern-era class will be named the day before the Super Bowl; they’ll be mentioned frequently during coverage of the big game.

Stories that have dominated all season long include the evolution of the quarterback position into one where a player who runs well and can pass has the ability to dominate the game, as evidenced by the likely season MVP, Lamar Jackson (player awards are announced at a ceremony the day before the Super Bowl), and an unwillingness by referees to overturn pass interference calls when officially challenged by coaches. The earlier won’t be on full display in the game, but the NFL is hoping the latter doesn’t play a part, as referees making or reversing calls that affect the outcome of the game are a bad look for the league.

Non-football entertainment will be important as well! The commercials are what many people tune in for, but to be honest, they’re not all great. They’re not even always generally great, but there will be some fun ones and occasionally some amazing ones. Also they cost $5.6 million per every 30 seconds, so it’s kind of like watching a very short blockbuster film, right?

Many, of course, are also interested in the music. The halftime show draws a ton of viewers. Sometimes the performance is great (Prince), sometimes bad (last year with Maroon 5), and sometimes weird (Katy Perry). This year,the aformentioned Shakira and Jennifer Lopez will share the stage and give a Latin feel to the proceedings. Even if you’re not interested, again, the halftime show is the thing of water cooler talk.

Sometimes, though, the best performance is actually before the game when the National Anthem is sung. Way back in 1991, Whitney Houston sealed her spot as one of the great vocalists by killing it, and right as we were at war with Iraq (never mind that it was lip synched). This year, Demi Lovato will perform. And guess what? Some gambling addicts will actually gamble on how long she’ll sing for! Yep, you can bet on lots of prop bets (novelty bets) and in other ways on the Super Bowl, where well over $100 million will be wagered. Gambling is a big reason as to why football has grown in prominence in the U.S., and you might even here some segments concerned betting.

Predictions

Finally, it’s time for our picks! We asked football fans on our staff to tell us their predictions, along with two guest pickers: New Orleans Saints superfan and aniblogger, Cajun Samurai, and writer/former aniblogger, Tommy, who is a huge fan of the Green Bay Packers. Here are our picks, with some thoughts below:

Cajun Samurai: I think this Super Bowl will be a prodigious and a high scoring shootout that may come down to a FG. I got a feeling that Mahomes will bring the Chiefs the “W” with a score of 48-45. I’m pulling for the Chiefs as the 49ers beat my Saints earlier. Yes, I’m still bitter…

Chiefs 48, 49ers 45

Tommy: Chiefs win 38-37. Both offenses march up and down the field, Chiefs passing and 49ers running. In the end, Patrick Mahomes wins MVP for a last-second drive to win the game. Highest-scoring Super Bowl ever.

Chiefs 38, 49ers 37

(Bambi 49ers 27-15, Cajun, MDRMN Chiefs 38-35, Peter Chiefs 35-31, Tommy, Twwk)

MDMRN: I see this as a close game with he Chiefs on top. The 49ers are a strong team, don’t get me wrong; however, against a quarterback that can bring so many different options like Mahomes, I feel their defense will have trouble. The Chiefs defense is also strong, but the 49ers offense is stronger. I foresee this being a high scoring game with the storyline being about the two offenses. I expect the 49ers to lead early with the Chiefs dominating the second half. My guess Chiefs over the 49ers with Patrick Mahomes as the Super Bowl MVP.

Chiefs 38, 49ers 35

Twwk: Like the others, I expect a very close Super Bowl. Rules changes have really helped create excitement in the game and bring many of them down to the last minute, including a number of recent Super Bowls. I feel that the 49ers have the offense to be able to keep up with Kansas City, especially a Chiefs team that could score under 30 against a talented and mighty Niners’ defense. I think the game will be back-and-forth, but in today’s NFL, a great offense often beats a great defense, and I foresee a scenario where the 49ers are leading 27-17 going into the 4th (or somewhere thereabouts), and Patrick Mahomes brings them back to score a couple of times, while Jimmy G won’t be able to do the same.

Chiefs 31, 49ers 27

Closing

And that’s it, folks! I hope you’ve enjoyed our preview and, if you’re on the fence, that you’ll give the big game a try. I can’t guarantee it’ll be a great game or even be a fun experience—but it’ll be an experience, and that, I guarantee, is worth your time.

=====

The 2020 Super Bowl will be airing on network television on Fox and can be streamed using the Fox Sports App. Featured illustration by DN (reprinted w/permission).

[doctorspencereid]

The Snake in the Grass ( Spencer Reid x reader )

Pairing: Spencer reid x reader

Summary: when young women start turning up dead in San Francisco, the team go and investigate who could be behind the gruesome killings.

Word Count: 5.2k

Setting: Between season 4 - Early season 6

Warnings: abduction, mentions of murder, gun shots

Their eyes stared back at Spencer accusingly, emotionless in their still form but within the context of the moment it was as though they were staring coldly back at him, judging him and blaming him.Three different women, two pairs of brown eyes and onc blue . All three had recently been discovered dead, two weeks apart. All within miles of each other in San Francisco. His eyes narrowed, trying to find the invisible lines connecting the women to each other, somehow . . someway. There wasn’t much that tied one victim to the next, if it weren’t for overkill and flowers left at the scene then the crimes wouldn’t draw their attention. They were young women between the ages of eighteen and twenty five, but that was the only marker of preference this unsub seemed to possess. The women were different races, different body types, even different occupations. So, at the very least they could rule out a preferential killer from their profile.

“ Maya Flint, Jessica Thomas, and Emma Rhodes. ”  Penelope recited the victim’s names from the front of the room, the gathered team peering at her attentively, “ All of them with such an excessive amount of stab wounds that even Norman Bates himself would run crying to mommy.”

Spencer’s intelligent eyes scanned the file in front of him, the photos and papers detailing the crimes in horrific detail. His mouth was set firmly, it was alarming how angry this unsub was with these women. “ None of them were taken from their homes, all of them taken in public places. The mall, libraries, coffee shops - this guy is everywhere.  Eye witness account just say they saw them leaving with a tall man . ” the technical analyst continued, shaking her head at the photos on the screen. Spencer was used to seeing how uncomfortable she tended to get around the more messy crime scenes, it wasn’t in her hopeful spirit to tolerate these atrocities.

Morgan lifted his head up from the tablet propped up on the tables, his brows knitting together with a masked blend of anger and confusion, “ Just hold on a minute, sweetness - all these victims were found with flowers near their bodies, and with the way these girls were slashed up - it just doesn’t fit this guy. ” Derek started, turning to gage the rest of the team’s thoughts,  “ Do you think this is a sign of remorse? ”

Before anyone else on the team could voice their thoughts, Spencer had already piped up, toying with his pen between his flighty fingers. “ Not necessarily, they were found with a small bouquet of Gardenias and Primrose, and if you look into the meanings of the flowers themselves, it can give us some insight into how the unsub feels about the victims, or the act itself. Gardenias are typically meant to mean purity, or even love. Where as Primrose imply a need for someone . . almost like you can’t live without them. ” he explained, looking more at the files than the people at the table. “ My guess is that the unsub is using the flowers as a way to tie some romantic attachment to the deaths, maybe even claim the victims in some way.”

He looked up finally, his brows drawing down low on his brow, “ It doesn’t look like there are any hesitation marks, an unsub who feels remorse wouldn’t go so aggressive, but a scorned lover? Most definitely. ”

Penelope sighed and rested her hands on her hips, looking everywhere but the screen, “ Great, so we have a killer casanova on the loose. ”

“ Maybe not exactly,” Emily supplied, looking to the boy genius, “ Maybe it’s not a scorned lover, but someone who wanted to be close to the victims, the time between killings doesn’t leave enough time for a would - be relationship to fall apart. ”

Hotch stood, and the rest of the team shifted their attention to him. “ When we get there, Prentiss and I will check out the scene. Dave, I want you, Reid and Morgan talking to the families and friends, see if you can figure out anything you can about the girls’ love lives. Wheels up in 30. ”

The words chilled her to her bones, it couldn’t be. No, Emma couldn’t be dead. Her blood stilled in her veins as the newscaster on screen described the grizzly murder of her college best friend. The image they showed of Emma, grinning from ear to ear was one that was taken during their college graduation. That was only three years ago, and it had all seemed to fly through her mind, the memories slipping through her fingers like sand. Y/N didn’t notice the tears falling down her cheeks, the only thing she was aware of was the hard grip on her hand. It was Justin Ashford, her best friend. Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Justin sympathetically, who didn’t look at her once, the floor seemed to be the only thing that he could look to. The tables and walls were adorned with photos of the three of them together, so it made sense. But as for her, y/n’s eyes couldn’t break away from their smiling faces and bright eyes. She looked so alive in the photos, in her soul she hoped this was some massive, elaborate prank and Emma would call any second and laugh on the other side of the line.

“ There’s no way . . it , it has to be a mistake. ” y/n muttered, the words more air than anything else, “ Her mom, her sister ..  someone would have called or something ! ” her last word caught in her throat, settling like a lump that made it feel as though she couldn’t breathe.

Justin shook his head, resting an odd arm around y/n’s shoulders. His eyes were trained in on the tv now, looking steady. “ She’s really gone . . ”  Y/n’s heart heart dropped to her feet, it was only two weeks ago when Justin had started expressing some interest in Emma, she wasn’t sure if Emma had even known, but the thought of what could have been must have been killing him inside.

As his voice faded the sharp ring of a phone echoed loudly through the apartment. Y/n jumped up, she ducked out from under Justin’s  odd embrace and rushed to the phone. The voice that spoke to her stopped her blood in her veins, she had almost forgotten how much Emma and her mother sounded alike. “ Y/N ? Oh , dear please come down to the police station - they , the um, enforcements need information on Emma. And y-you knew her so well - ”

“ I’ll be there,” she said clearly, though there was a tremor in her voice. A sigh sounded from the elderly woman. With a quick expulsion of condolences, y/n clicked off the phone and turned to Justin with a heavy heart and proper composition; she needed to keep it together. It was hard, even then fresh tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Justin  looked at her with his entire faced riddled with confusion as he waited for y/n to tell him what she’d heard, “ They want us down at the police station. ”

“ Wha -  Why ? We haven’t done anything - ” he burst immediately, standing fast, his hands balled at his sides. She could only shrug, her arms wrapping around herself as the world seemed to expand around her. Sure, Justin was there, but the world felt too big, too cold now.

“ They need us, Emma needs this. ”

The three agents milled around the station, Rossi was still interviewing Emma’s dad, Morgan and Spencer were propped up against one of the desks going over their talk with the victim’s mother. The younger agent watched the opening of the hallway as the deceased’s friends shuffled in. His investigative gaze tracked the male in the group, he was quiet with a shadowed face. His eyes were unreadable, but his body language was an open book to any half decent profiler. Guilty, withdrawn. Did he maybe blame himself for this, or did he know more?

It seemed Morgan was picking apart Justin already, so Spencer diverted his efforts to the girl beside him. Now, her emotion was clear, like a map that detailed her thoughts and actions. The tear tracks on her cheeks were still fresh, the confusion and pain drawn into the lines on her face were in line with any victim of tragedy. Before they could meet with the other two, the sheriff intervened and explained who they were and what they were there to do. The boy’s knuckles tensed, presumably from stress though the exact reason wasn’t obvious. The girl peered over at them, her eyes reflecting a sort of resignation, they were tired and carried a weight of responsibility that she seemed to be passing onto him. Find out who did this and fix this, her eyes told him. Spencer nodded stiffly, his arms crossed against his chest, he hoped he had gotten the message right.

Morgan led the charge of questions, just a few simple ones that should give them some possibly useful information. For the most part, they complied with the agents, though the stress and worry on their faces were clear; which wasn’t all together too uncommon. Were there any guys Emma hung out with ? Did Emma go out with men often? Was there any place she said she was going before she disappeared ?

‘ No one really, unless you count Justin. But he’s one of us, really. ’

‘ Sure, Emma was pretty.. She didn’t have a problem getting some company, but she was smart about it. ’

‘ No, but she usually hung out around the mall, it was her haunt.’

Granted, y/n had answered most of the questions. She seemed to know the most about Emma, it was clear they had been close while the victim had lived.  But she wasn’t the one who piqued his curiosity, no . . that was Justin. The way he reached for comfort from y/n, his hand twitching and settling on her knee. The way she shook her head minutely and drew back from his touch. The hurt that flashed in his eyes, it was a tricky exchange that could mean everything if you watched closely enough. Spencer narrowed his eyes as he listened to the boy’s responses, they were an uncommon way to talk about someone you’d lost, especially if they were meant to be someone you’d cared about.

‘ Just me, really. She stayed away from dudes, she’s made bad choices with the guys she talked to, anyone who knew Emma could tell you that. ’

‘ More often than was reasonable .. as some might say, I guess. ’

‘ No. ’

Justin almost sounded bitter, as though Emma had done something to hurt her. Spencer had his own theories, some penetrating suspicions, but the two were let go. The moment they were out of sight, Reid flipped out his mobile and dialed the number that would give him the information he needed. He only hoped it would be useful information.

“ Ask and you shall receive, baby Einstein - what do you need ? ” Garcia questioned excitably, her cheery tone was always a contrast to the solemn tone of each case. Spencer furrowed his brows, staring out past the door, seeing their car drive past the station parking lot.

“ Hey, Garcia. What can you get me on a Justin Ashford in San Francisco? I need his spending record, an address, and maybe some criminal records if he’s got them.” Reid requested, his free hand resting in his pocket. Nerves fired in his body and he hoped that his hunch wasn’t right, and that if he was right then that he would get enough information to nail the unsub. Worry swam in thoughts, the thought that if he was right then he had just let the potential unsub make off with another potential victim.

There was silence for a moment before the nonchalant tone of Penelope Garcia picked up again, “ Well,  your boy is pretty all-american on first glance. He’s bright, but outside of a few detentions during high school he has no record. As for spending, it’s as if all of his funds drain right into the local mall and a small cafe north of town. So maybe this guy’s a shopaholic with a coffee addiction? ”

He was a regular at the places that victims frequented . . well, that certainly wasn’t a good sign. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyeing the floor nervously, “ Can you get me an address ?  ”

“ Just a second, ” Garcia stalled, and Spencer felt the seconds past by like agonizing beats, “ 979 Mulberry Drive, apartment 16. Good luck, boy wonder. ”

It was a hunch, a suspicion. Only a maybe. It was because of that he thought it best to simply check out if he was right, he couldn’t exhaust his resources on a hunch. That being said, Spencer figured he ought to ensure some backup should things go wrong. He remembered that Hotch and Prentiss were still out in the field, so quickly Spencer filled them in quickly, asking them to meet him there. Reid headed out, driving out on the congested streets of San Francisco. The traffic was heavy and it took him a few minutes to get to what should have been a fairly close building. The car pulled up onto a tall apartment complex, and Spencer was quick to jump out of the car, his weapon ready to be drawn from his holster. He hoped he would be enough to keep the possible unsub tied up until Hotch and Prentiss could pull in. He hoped against hope that he was wrong . 

From the moment she had gotten into the car, y/n could feel a shift in her friend, it was change in his demeanor. He was frenzied, and his driving was sloppy as if he didn’t care whether they went up in a blaze of scrap metal and flame or not. Justin’s eyes were wild, the boy was falling apart. She could only assume it was because of Emma, “ Hey - Justin, woah. Be careful !” y/n chastised, her hand reaching out to steady his forearm. He yanked his arm away, as though her touch would burn him, he sneered at her.

“ It doesn’t matter, it’s over. It’s all over. ” Justin hissed through gritted teeth, his hair was slicked with sweat and falling sloppily across his forehead. Angry tears pricked in the corners of his vision. Fear was starting to creep into y/n’s veins, a terrifying thought that he would crash them into the wall.

“ It’s not, Justin, it’s not. Don’t talk like that, Emma wouldn’t want us to think like that. ” She was trying to rationalize, pleading with him and hoping it would be enough to calm him down, but Justin was quick to become irrational.

“ Who gives a fuck about Emma?! ” Justin shouted, his voice breaking as the car picked up speed. They were practically flying down the street and panic was seizing control of her. “ She was just another whore, someone who couldn’t recognize when she had someone good. Someone who was good for her. ”

His words froze her, and cold spread like ice through her blood. “ What . . what are you saying? We loved Emma. ” She tried, thinking that maybe, just maybe he was still there. Her heart was breaking, and her thoughts were running back to the agent she’d made eye contact with in the station, find us, please.

Justin shook his head as he parked outside the apartment, he’d practically flung himself out of his seat and grabbed y/n’s arm, yanking her roughly into the building and up the flight of stairs towards his apartment. “ No - but I tried. I tried so hard. So hard to love her. But in the end it wasn’t  enough, Emma couldn’t see a good guy.” The tall boy snarled, opening up his apartment and throwing y/n in carelessly. “ Neither can you. ”

Spencer stood just outside Apartment 16, his gun gripped and ready. He shouldered his way in, from deeper in the residence he could hear Justin’s frantic voice.  “ You never saw it, instead you dated all those dicks in high school! I was there for you! Me - not them. But you’ll see now, all of you will. ” Spencer came up behind Justin, doing his best to be quiet, though he must have not been quiet enough. Justin whipped around, revealing the gun cocked dangerously towards y/n. He could spare her a quick glance only, she was curled up in the corner, sobbing. She was afraid, but so far uninjured. If he was lucky, then he could keep it that way. Spencer’s own brown eyes met Justin’s, those blue eyes were angry, angry and lost. The anger masked the terror beneath, and Spencer wondered if he knew he didn’t stand a chance. He was devolving so fast.

“ Justin, put the gun down. You’re not thinking straight. You, you hurt these women because you liked them . . didn’t you? ” His gun was ready to fire at the unsub, but his voice was soft and persuasive, he needed to appeal to this boy, “ That’s why you left the flowers. But those girls weren’t the important ones, were they? The important one is y/n, that’s why you’ve kept her alive. You love her. ”

Justin nodded, his grip tight on the gun, “ She doesn’t love me, all she had to do was love me and everything would be fine. But I was never good enough. Since first grade, I was there, and it still wasn’t enough for her! ”

“ You need to put the weapon down, because if you hurt her then you’ll never get a chance to be good enough . . to um, to prove how much you love her,” Spencer tried, his dark eyes pleading with the other man. The killer shook his head, sweat and tears soaking his face. He was falling apart fast, but it was becoming clear that this was only making him that much angrier, and that much more dangerous.  

“ I have proven it! I have! I killed those women, I tried . . so hard , to maybe get over her but it didn’t work. Because they weren’t her. None of  them were y/n. I even laid her favorite flowers by their bodies, it just so happened that they carried the perfect message. But this isn’t over yet, my final message needs to get out. ”

Spencer had no time to react, Justin had practically thrown himself at Spencer, the two boys falling to the ground and their guns slipping from their hands. Justin was throwing hits down hard on the agent, the heavier boy on top. When he felt the struggle beneath him still, he drew back. The doctor was alive, but unconscious. It doesn’t matter, Justin thought, standing with ragged breaths and lifting both the guns, by the time he finds us, it’ll be too late.

“ Justin, please, just let me go . . if you love me - ” y/n piped up, though she didn’t get far. A cry sounded when a bullet fired and embedded itself into her leg. Hot tears tracked down y/n’s face and agony consumed her, until the world went dark.

When Spencer Reid came back to, he was staring up at the worried faces of Aaron Hotchner and Dave Rossi. “ Kid, next time, letting us know where you’re going would be a good idea. ” Rossi told him, helping the young genius to his feet with a disapproving head shake of his head.

“ I did . . I told Hotch. ” Reid countered, looking around at the apartment which was being ransacked by agents. He rubbed the back of his neck, a soreness spreading through his body as consciousness washed over him. “ Justin . . he’s the unsub. I tried to talk him down, but it wasn’t enough. He took her.”

The rest of the team was looking around, trying to find a clue as to where he could have taken y/n. Reid only hoped they weren’t too late by the time they found him. Pain flashed behind his eyes, and he figured at first it was from the fight, but when the words flashed through his mind he knew it was more. Justin’s words echoed in his mind, “ First grade, he said .. he said he’d been there since first grade.” Spencer murmured, looking at Rossi with wide eyes. “ He’s devolving guys, and fast. This is a guy who cares about meanings and symbols, there were messages in the flowers. If he’s going to finish things off, it’s going to be in the place where it all started.”

Silence washed over Spencer, he shook his head, his fist nestles under his chin when he looked up, “ He wants to make her remember . . so she can appreciate his work.”

Morgan stepped closer to Reid, his dark eyes questioning, “ Remember what ?”

Rossi let out a surprised breath, looking at Spencer with unbending eyes, “ The day he fell in love with her . .  in the place where it happened.”

The rest of the team looked up, eyeing Spencer, then turning to their Unit Chief for further instruction. Hotch’s face tightened with alarm and he drew his phone out, already rushing out the door, “ Garcia, I need you to find out what elementary school Justin Ashford went to.”

Justin’s hand circled her wrist tightly, his other hand clutching the gun with such ferocity that his knuckles had gone as pale as the bones beneath the skin. It took all of y/n ’s will to not immediately cry out as her childhood best friend harshly pulled her across the floor of their first grade classroom. Memories of her time here flashed through her mind, laughter and a lightness about the time. Those memories would now be tinged darkly at their edges, as she would only come to associate it with the time she made a best friend out of a psychopath.

“ From day one - it was me ! It was always me, but you never noticed! You never noticed, just how much I cared about you, what I was willing to do for you! ”  Justin shouted, letting her wrist go as he threw her down onto the carpet, his blue eyes glaring down at y/n. Her breathing was ragged, heavy in her lungs with fear. She stared up at the once kind face of a boy she thought she knew, but instead she stared right down the barrel of a gun.

Y/n shook her head violently, tears coming down harder, heavier than they had before. She considered shifting up slightly, but the agonizing pain in her leg argued against it. “ Justin, justin - please, please don’t do this. ”  she begged, crying harder and trying to reach up to him. “ If you love me, like you say you do, you won’t do this. This isn’t love, Justin. ”

“ No, no, no . . I’m doing this because I love you, so we can be together, forever. Without any of them. Just us, like it should be. ” he argued, though she could hear it, the doubt in his voice. It gave her hope, just enough to let her shake her head up at him. Her face set itself defiantly and she reached for his wrist.

She opened her mouth, carefully considering the words that might be her last, “ Just, put the gun down. We don’t have to die, we can be together, right now.” She hoped the emotion in her eyes wouldn’t betray her, but at this point she could only try. “ Just the way we are . . don’t you want that ? ”  

Justin hesitated, crying heavily, his chest heaving. The battle raging in his mind was clear, it was evident in the way he gripped the gun too tight, in the way he grit his teeth, and in the way he couldn’t meet her eyes. But while Justin looked away, y/n saw beyond his head, saw the window. She could see the shapes of approaching figures, and her heart soared now. y/n licked her lips and reached out for his clenched knuckles, touching them gently despite the horror that spilled down her back.  “ Please, put the gun down. For me. ”

Her abductor didn’t even have a moment to answer, as the door was kicked down and in entered Agents Morgan and Reid, a slew of SWAT members following in behind them. All of them had their weapons pointed at Justin, alarm flashed in his eyes, then betrayal. His head whipped towards her and he lifted the gun, “ You lying bitc- ”

Bullets sounded off like canons, and y/n shrank back, bracing herself for the sharp and blinding pain. But it never came, instead she heard a heavy shape collapse. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw the dying form of Justin Ashford, blood seeping from two wounds in his chest. Before she knew it, sobs racked her body, and for some reason her eyes found it impossible to ignore the sight of her best friend and would - be murderer.

Her cries were raspy in her tired voice, and she felt arms come around her, soothing words sounding numb to her ears. y/n wasn’t sure who’s arms she was in, but she didn’t particularly care. My best friend is dead, she thought, and he wanted to take me out with him.

The ride to the hospital was one she spent unconscious, finding it easy to slip away now that she was safe. When she woke, they had removed the bullet and she was so drugged up she could barely open her eyes. y/n’s eyes scanned the room, seeing it empty. The only thing there were a few books, probably left by one of her friends. A copy of A Tale of Two Cities was the only thing she truly recognized. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, well, she supposed she had no one now.  With a heavy heart, she was ready to shut her eyes to the world for a few more hours until she heard the small echo of a knock. y/n sat up straight, her eyes watching the door as Dr. Spencer Reid walked into her small hospital room, he looked at her curiously.

“ Are you feeling better ? ” he asked lightly, his eyebrows drawn as though he were thinking about every thought going through her head. Her heart dropped, no, the guy I thought was my best friend turned out to be a serial killer that was prepared to kill us both,  sick romeo - juliet style.

“ I’m better than I was before,” y/n admitted, which wasn’t a lie by any means. She would rather be in a hospital with a damaged leg than in the school building. After a beat of silent, y/n opened her mouth with a sort of caution to her words, “ He died, didn’t he ? ”

She knew the answer, she saw it happen. But she needed total confirmation. As a best friend and a survivor, she needed to know that he was gone.

Spencer stared at her, his face was utterly unreadable, so much so that for a moment y/n thought he wasn’t going to answer her, maybe just turn and stride out the door. But then he nodded, looking down as though the tiles were suddenly fascinating. “ Yeah, Justin’s dead. Morgan got him good. ”  he told her, pinching the bridge of his nose. She nodded, the words settled heavily over her chest. It was bittersweet. “ You know, y/n . .” he continued, taking in a sharp breath, “ There was nothing you could have done, people like him . . they believe they’re owed love. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. None of this is your fault. ”

She was going to ask how he knew the guilt that pierced her soul, but then remembered that he was an FBI agent; he probably saw this thing so often he could write a book without even thinking in - depth about it. y/n nodded, swallowing dryly. Her eyes lifted to meet Spencer’s thoughtful gaze, his eyes were soothing and cool, a way to ground herself to reality. “ I know, he just . . he was my best friend. I didn’t even notice how far he had fallen until I was staring down the barrel of a gun. ”

“ We don’t always notice the signs until they’re too late, but Justin was far gone a long time ago, y/n. You can’t let that sit on your consciousness. ” He told her, his eyes fleeing hers to peer at the stack of books on the chair beside her bed. “ A Tale of Two Cities, huh ?” he questioned, walking over with his hands pocketed. He drew one hand out to lift the book, examining the worn paperback, with it’s cracked spine and yellowed pages. It had been a well loved book. “ You know, I never did care too much for this one. It’s uh, it’s one of two historical fiction novels he wrote. While it’s fairly accurate, it um, well it lacks some of the wit he usually wrote with. ”  the agent admitted to her, shrugging carelessly as though he didn’t just slyly denounce her favorite novel. A scoff sounded lowly from y/n’s throat and she shook her head, rolling her eyes at the lanky doctor.

“ His usual wit ? Right, so then what’s your favorite Dickens’ book ?” she countered, expectant and waiting to see where his taste would align. A secretive sort of smile haunted Spencer’s lips as he set the book down. His hand returned to his pockets, “ I wouldn’t necessarily say I have a favorite,” he started, dodging the question at first. “ Though, I’m partial to Great Expectations.”

Y/n snorted, nodding once. Her head lifted to stare up at the man who towered over her, “ For such a name it sure didn’t meet my expectations.” y/n argued, shrugging gently. “ It’s not bad, per say . . just , underwhelming. ”

“ Underwhelming? Really -”

“ Um, Excuse me, sir,” a nurse started from the door, regarding the both of them as though she were a stern mother, “ Miss Y/L/N could use the rest, if you want you can come back later.”

Spencer nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and raised two fingers to indicate he just needed a bit more time. The nurse let out an indignant breath, turning on her heel back out into the hallway.

He turned back to her with a tight-lipped smile, looking around the room. “ I guess that’s my signal to leave.” he announced, y/n nodded and thought for a moment.

“ Spencer, could you do me a favor and hand me the book you detest so much and a pen?”  she joked lightly, asking with a smile she hoped was appealing enough. He nodded, shaking his head at her request, though he wasted no time in handing her the items she’d asked for. Gratefully, y/n rushed to the front page, and scribbled her number down right below the title.  “ Maybe we can continue our book chat when I get out of here, until then you can re-read this and hopefully report back to me with some more sense.” y/n teased, clicking the pen shut and offering her copy to the dark eyed doctor. His eyes flickered between the novel and the girl he’d helped save only a mere five hours ago. Finally, he stepped forward and took the copy, holding it gently.

Technically, he had no reason to re-read the book, he had an eidetic memory and could read 20,000 words a minute. But y/n didn’t know that. “ I’ll give it another shot,” he conceded, lifting his eyes. “ Get some rest, alright? ”

He had already walked out the door and was far out of her line of sight. Even so, y/n knew she wouldn’t stop thinking about him until the next time she saw him.

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 26

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 -

Through Myrtle’s bathroom you passed making sure to close the door behind you, under his collar Percy brought out his time turner and looped the chain around your necks. Half a turn back again you heard the muffled whir of the world backtracking to the end of the Quidditch match. Wetting your lips you glanced out the window seeing the storm still blowing past as Percy removed the chain he tucked back under his collar.

Turning together you made for the door and entered the empty halls you hurried through down to the exit overlooking the field between you and Hagrid’s Hut. In the first sight of students approaching Percy gave a sudden shiver and clenched his eyes shut in morphing into a bright orange fox. Not hesitating you shifted right after he did into a silver fox and darted after him pretending to play you way across the field in the falling snow until the crowds were out of sight and you took off for the forest.

Ignoring the cold you shook the snow off your fur and hurried through the tall roots and winding paths towards Hagrid’s Hut. Above you curious crows eyed your path flying after you wondering what you were up to, all filling the branches above you as you crouched down seeing the Hippogriffs moving to the school in the first explosion. Crouching down you settled by one another to keep warm, simply waiting for the perfect moment.

.

Calmly the duo were shown back to their shed habitat and you watched Hagrid seal their enclosure and head back inside his hut. It didn’t take long for you to see the duo of Aurors arrive along with an executioner making you stand and start to creep out. At the arriving group the duo exited their shed eyeing each of the trio in their arguing with Hagrid. The argument turned the Aurors from friendly witnesses to forceful guards in aiding the executioner in shoving Hagrid into his hut they planned to seal him inside. Hurrying across the snow you caught the attention of the creatures, who saw your enchanted doorway appear in the center of their clearing. A catch of your color shifting eyes lured the pair curiously behind you through the doorway into your snow covered gardens at home. Quietly the door shut and vanished halting the argument as Hagrid eyed the empty clearing and began shouting for the pair of assumed fleeing killer creatures.

In the vast intricate gardens you led them off to a shed which easily was shifted to a replica of theirs you settled them in and fed the pair once you had shifted back again. Softly between your strokes on the pair you assured them they would be safe in their new homes before you used the doorway to head back to the kitchens for a snack you took to the Puff dorm. Sitting quietly, choosing to wait for the other students to be led back to the dorms in the dungeons that were sealed behind you while the Professors righted the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tower was inspected for any damage. Grins spread across the faces of the students who caught onto your hints that the pair had escaped their death sentence, a rumor stirring up a glimmer of hope in Hagrid’s chest when it made its way to him as he helped to guide the Gryffindors out to their tower again through Flitwick guiding the Ravenclaws.

.

8pm the next day, finally your Magical Creatures course started and at his hopeful stare following you to his side to accept the packets he had made his eyes dropped to the snapshot you had taken of the pair that morning in their feedings revealing they were safe at your home. A soft sniffle later and he nodded in what he hoped to be a thanks to you he found himself unable to verbalize just yet pocketing the image. Among the other students you entered the heated bubble containing stone bleachers for Hagrid’s preferred classroom to which a gold baby Unicorn had wandered to as its mother scoured for a fresh patch of food. All the class you all stroked the curious little filly keeping your pamphlets from its reach to avoid its nibbling them to shreds until the mother returned and guided him off to their dinner.

.

Up to the school you and the twins walked and your fingers kept sliding over the edge of the odd sky blue letter that had arrived for you on the wings of a snow coated owl among the other late deliveries through dinner due to the earlier storm delaying the breakfast post. In shimmering silver ink you read the stamp marking it from Paris in the top right corner addressed simply,

“Miss J. Black,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

All through the meal you had stared at it oddly wondering who could have sent it. Sure you had gotten more than a few letters from Lycans whose lives you had affected and Bernadette you knew well enough that she was in Italy for the next few months helping in their Ministry there with something. Without any Choir tonight you waited until you could head back to your dorm to read it.

Atop the steps of your bunk you were seated, turning the envelope over you broke the seal with an olive branch in gold wax and brought out the folded letter inside.

“Miss Black,

Under the request of my employers, Vivienne and Olivier Pearisiyiae, I have been asked to draft this inquiry to you.

As you may not be aware in 1935 their daughter Suzsieanne Pearisiyiae had been reported missing after a trip to Great Brittain. Under the spreading of the news on your acts in defense of your school and creatures within, a picture of yourself and your mother were uncovered and it brought up a painful question for my employers.

For all our investigations your mother Jewelia was adopted by a Muggle family from an orphanage long since dismantled, leaving the discovery of her birth parents believed impossible. The inquiry I was posed to make was towards the question of your maternal grandparents’ identities. If you could manage to grant us any knowledge you might have upon this mystery that would be wonderful. To answer the wonder as to why the question was posed enclosed are copies of portraits of my employers and their daughter.

Best wishes to you in this upcoming holiday season,

The Pearisiyiae Family”

Cedric grinned at you saying, “Fan mail?”

You shook your head saying, “It’s a letter, some couple has a missing daughter, they’re asking if I could send them what I know about my Mum’s parents.” Separating the pages your eyes fell to the portraits folded between the pages. 

One with a couple in black and white, the man staring off to the side while the woman rested her head on his shoulder sadly. 

The second one a woman wearing a wide brimmed hat tilted out of her face in a fur collared dress coat over her layered skirt with hands tucked into a fur muff. The resemblance of the women to your mother and yourself was uncanny, though through your father you inherited your tight curly hair and your shifting eyes from your mother vastly unlike the chestnut hair and icy blue eyes of the women. Passing both over to the twins you caught their brows rising.

Fred, “Wicked.”

George, “I can see where you got it all from.”

Cedric, “Suz-,” he huffed, “Where have I read that before?”

Turning around you grabbed your schedule from the desk reading out your full name, Jaqiearae Suzsieanne Anistasiea Pluto Black, “It’s my middle name.”

Fred, “Well, one of them.”

George wet his lips, “Wait, if your mum was just born when she was sent to the orphanage, how did she know the name?”

You shrugged, “Dad did mention she had dreams occasionally. Maybe she had one about the name.”

Cedric passed you back the letters and schedule, “What are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think it over I guess.” They nodded and you accepted the pictures again you carried to your desk you sat at through the yawns of the guys in their move to their beds mumbling about the Astronomy class at midnight they wanted to nap prior to.

In their drifting off you sat at your desk, drawing out a sheet of your yellow stationary with bundles of fireflies in the corners. Anxiously you wet your lips and raised your feather tipped pen you uncapped and lowered to the page.

“Mr and Mrs Pearisiyiae,

There really isn’t much I can share that will bring you peace for the location of your daughter. Yes I agree the resemblance is uncanny. I will not waste your time so here are all the facts I know.

My Mother in her years at school uncovered that her father was Morfin Gaunt, her mother was unnamed on the birth certificate. For my own research I went to their former home and found a grave for Morfin, his father Marvolo and his sister Merope. Alongside their shared headstone is a smaller one marked simply ‘Wife of Morfin Gaunt’, I traced their family tree and records available and no marriage license or documents held the name of his wife.

The pair were killed in what was named by muggles as simply ‘Accident’ on their death records, though in my own research I was able to discover that Merope’s son, Tom Riddle Jr. In his late teens upon learning the identity of his father from a notable muggle line proceeded to murder their entire family and then turned his aggression at their refusing to acknowledge him as kin and for the abandonment of his mother no doubt did the same to Morfin and his wife in 1943. Years later upon discovering my mother’s identity he proceeded to do the same to her as well.

There is no pleasant way to word this knowledge so it is best stated plainly without any fluff or flourish. If your daughter was this unnamed wife I do offer you my sincerest condolences and if you have any further questions please do not hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,

Jaqi Black”

Folding the letter up you brought out one of your envelopes you slid it inside before sealing it with a duck print seal in yellow wax, adding the owl code they had included on the second page. Before you could turn your head you remembered your owl was already off with a letter to Petunia, the thick stack of letters contained all drafted letters you had finally finished and decided to send off at once explaining how big a testing year this was. Closing your eyes you inhaled and levitated the envelope above your palm then swirled your fingers now coated in flames in a draconic spell to transfer items across great distances. Blankly you stared at the portraits, both stagnant in their copied state then set them aside to try and sleep through yet another bout of no doubt painful dreams due to the mass of Dementors on the grounds for their nightly patrols.

To your surprise lightness was found along with a great sense of ease, the great weight on the school dissipated in the removal of the Dementors. A copy of Neville and Ron’s memories were given to the Ministry of Magic, pertaining their attack and one from Ginny on yours. The latter was dismissed as even in your defense Fudge insisted any creature to attack an Auror be destroyed heightening his demand for a search for the creature in question until it was found.

Due to the Aurors who had captured Andrew word had rippled through the Ministry and once Alice and Frank Longbottom had heard of Neville’s attack they headed the call to punish Andrew no matter what task he had been given. Insisting that safety of the children of the school should have been put first.

By the day of the Hogsmeade trip you had received word that Ser had been sentenced to five years in prison for child endangerment, a lesser charge Fudge had been forced into by the weight of all the Aurors and citizens demanding punishment.

Doing all he could Fudge scrambled for anything to distract the people from what was being said about him, though none had expected to discover that this year Great  Britain would be hosting the Quidditch World cup this year. A full six pages of the Prophet were packed with detailed pictures and notes on the gigantic stadium being built for the occasion. All that burying the fury to the final pages in a small section behind the wanted adds. Passing the paper to Cedric your eyes rose to a random black owl releasing an awkward screech with a familiar sky blue envelope in its talons, a raising of your left hand turned its swoop to release the letter then circle back again up to the rafters to nap before its long flight back.

Through the jealous narrowed glare from your owl to the new bird you opened the letter from the same couple’s employee who wrote,

“Miss Black,

We thank you for your assistance in this matter. It is truly troubling information though there is hope that finally we will have discovered their lost child. My employers for New Years are flying out to England for a wedding of a distant relation and are wondering if you might be willing to meet up for tea and possibly share the location of the graveyard you had spotted the headstone in. Should their suspicion be true though they have missed a great deal of your life they do wish to have a place in it through the future should you so allow.

Fondest Wishes,

The Pearisiyiae Family”

The note was passed around and watching you eagerly your owl spotted your pulling out a piece of parchment to hastily copy down the request to your father you folded up and managed to raise just in time for your overeager owl to take off with it. Even Harry got a turn with it and promptly turned to ask, “You’re really going to meet with them?”

Your head tilted and you answered, “Well, if it is their daughter they could have closure.”

Harry, “But they want to be in your life in the future.”

“They might be nice. And we do go to Paris nearly each summer. I doubt they would demand anything.”

Ron, “Who is gonna take you?”

You shrugged, “Not sure. Dad can’t, Remus will be working on his lessons maybe,”

Draco who had taken the seat by you across from Cedric said, “Mum could take you.” Your brow inched up, “Said something about visiting Dad’s Mum. Mum and Gran hate each other, she could take you.”

Your lips pursed for a moment then you replied, “That could work.”

Loading up from your shopping trip a series of gifts were gathered up and wrapped before you turned back to the last of this term’s assignments you finished and added to your pile to turn in before looking over the layout of practice exams for the OWLS and NEWTS. Mainly all written exams filling up your final two weeks of school before the train ride home.

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Charms – Mon

After breakfast all the fifth and seventh year Charms students would remain behind in the Great Hall. Anxiously you all watched along the walls while the long tables were traded for single desks with your names alphabetically assigned to each of them. With fifth years on one side and the seventh years on the other, all in the same sinking feeling when you lowered into the desks. Atop the platform on a tall chair Professor Flitwick sat and sent out the test packets out to each desk saying, “You have two hours for the exam,” an easy grin slid onto his face, “Remember, this is your only class for the day, once this is through you are free to return to your dorms or even head out to the grounds for some fresh air.”

The last packet hit the desk in front of George and Percy in the back and he said, “You may begin.” In the silent room echoes of the shifting pages and creasing of the front fold signaled Flitwick to settle back in his seat allowing the room to simply relax into the hefty practice exams containing information from all their years so far.

Question by question you answered, recognizing so many from the years before that you had quizzed the elder Weasleys and Tonks on. Nearly to the last minute you were finalizing the end of the last question, an essay question ‘Name the various benefits of learning to charm inanimate objects to dance.’ A few snorts could be heard through the room at the hopefully mood lightening question that varied responses were given to.

Groggily with the last of the exams turned in you filed out of the hall and split up, your group heading to your dorm room to return to cramming in all you could for the exam the following day.

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Transfiguration – Tue

Professor McGonagall came next. Atop the platform she looked over you all with a proud gaze hoping as always that you all would do well in her exams. More hefty packets were passed out and seemingly alone up in the front row you bit your lip opening to the first page at her saying, “You may begin.”

Two thirds were short answer with a large chunk after true or false questions leading up to the final question, ‘Which form would you choose for yourself as your Animagus and why.’

For you especially this question was difficult as you had gone from loving your time shifting to a moose, cat, Phoenix and fox. All differently with various reasons but glancing at the time you simply gave the most honest answer you could give, naming your love for each and stating that at this time you would not be able to decide on a single form. In the path out of the Hall you caught her eyes scanning over you wondering at your uncertain expression on the final question, hoping you wouldn’t get points taken off for being honestly indecisive.

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Herbology – Wed

Professor Sprout was downright bubbly as she had a line of plant scrapings she would tend to through your test taking for planting and potions needed for the next term. If you thought the others were thick this one downright dwarfed them as it asked for short answers that each question would build onto until moving onto the next subject with a few short essay sections between. All leading to the final question of your chosen most important plant you had learned of with a required explanation after.

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DADA – Thur

Remus next stood looking over you all, feeling just as unsteady as you all did remembering just how nerve wracking this experience was. So far the smallest packet, but also the most challenging at the simple short answer style. Each of your classes had to be remembered with various obscure details thrown in narrowing the similar terms, spells or hexes you would have to name properly. The final page filled with situational questions that fed into a final essay question on one portion of the topics you had learned that could be improved upon for future generations. The end of it using the recent advances of Lycan studies as an example.

Wetting your lips you brushed the feathered end of your pen along your forehead as many other students did before answering that you thought it would help to have yearly defense clubs that each student could request hands on lessons on certain spells, creature based topics, hexes or charms.

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Ancient Runes – Fri

Professor Babbling, in one of the arguably smallest of groups looked over you all as you started on the monstrously thick packet. Begrudgingly you made it through the mostly short answer portion leading up to the final question in an essay you were asked to choose the most influential rune language you had been taught and to write a day in the life of a person living in the civilization the runes were from.

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Most of the students from here on were enjoying their free days off and relief that they only had a couple more exams while news of exactly how many you, Fred and George were taking. You three along with Percy were among the small group of those willing to risk trying for all the exams offered stunning especially the first years to the point of them betting on what your grades would be.

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Potions – Mon

Snape peered out at you all and sat back in the chair offered watching you all through the thick packet complete with a final page of riddles stirring a great number from the middle section to literally hit their heads on their desks.

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Care of Magical Creatures – Tue

Hagrid stood atop the platform watching as you all went through the first half of multiple choices until the final section of mixed short answer and essays on practical care for the more dangerous creatures some might avoid.

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Arithmacy – Wed

Surprisingly after taking your seats you spied Professor Vector looking over your staggeringly small class you eyed the disturbingly small packet just cram packed with as much as she could possibly muster into her decided amount of pages fully knowing that her students would be sitting for possibly three exams today.

Divination – Wed

Lazily after your two hour exam you all simply chose to stay in your desks to rest your heads for an awkward group nap that lasted for the hour long gap until Professor Trelawney entered and your desks shuffled adding more for the those entering the hall.

Overall the medium sized packet eased through the list of styles of Divinations you had been taught finalized by a simple question of what you were feeling from her and how the holidays would go.

Astronomy – Wed (Midnight)

Choir was put off till the next night freeing you to get a longer nap after dinner until the late night exam. Again in the Great Hall you sat up through the surprisingly thick packet coming close to naming each inch of the galaxy and their meanings up to the final question asking which has the most effect over you in your life. Your answer being fairly easy as knowing full well thanks to your father that you were born under Pluto.

Pluto is the great revealer, but often there's a dark night before the rebirth. Pluto brings to mind purging, exorcising, and releasing buried power or core truths. It's the planet of creative destruction, and transits can feel like extended ordeals.

In your mind clearly explaining, in your opinion, a fair bit about why you are the way you are.

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History of Magic – Thur

What all would assume to be the largest packet wasn’t and Professor Binns floated around the Hall as you all waded through the thick packets up to the final essay question asking for you to find an ancient war that could occur again and how you would bring them all to a better end.

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Muggle Studies - Fri

Barty was last and in his own elated mood he was lost in his own wonder as to how you all would fair in his exam. The wide variety of topics covered in his course made it difficult to gauge how successful you all would be. Still in all this he was elated at the four of his students that would be terrified in waiting for the results to all offered courses worsening their worries over a vast majority of their peers.

…

Lunch came after your flurried packing sessions you rushed into when the final exam was through. In a long line you all filed out of the school in exhausted groups through the buzzing younger students around you for the trip to the Hogsmeade station. Heavily you plopped onto the benches in your decided car carrying a message from Remus to your father he would come the following day to give him time to read through and grade his exams.

A stolen nap bridged the time between school and the station again where you were met by your disguised father who led you all out instead of Arthur, who got called to a raid stirring up the decided plan for him to fetch you all. Safely in your home you went to put up your trunk in your room then it seemed you blinked and you were in front of the log book in your library. Anxiously you recited the names of the couple in your mind a few times until you could finally say them aloud bringing forth a stack of magazines and papers filling up a table alongside a stack of books commenting on famous films.

Vivien Trèfle, a Veela from a great line of performing French Wizards, one of the oldest there, who was often sporting wigs for her roles to cover her signature strawberry blonde hair making her pale blue eyes shine the brighter.

Olivier Pearisiyiae, a Morpher from a similarly notable line of performers and architects where their daughter got her chestnut hair from, known mainly for his voice in his operatic and musical roles until falling into the big film that placed the pair together.

The loving couple so concerned about their daughter first met onscreen, both acting in magical films, plays and musicals with their biggest role together, a famed opera you had seen a recording of when you were younger. The more you dug you saw their relationship growing in front of the articles and tabloids up to the announcement of their young daughter. Who had been in a few small roles of her own expecting to be off to an acting course she had, according to a supposed snippet from an interview from her parents. And that she had met a man on the tour of the town she got lost in and fell for him instantly with a hint that she might be bringing him home to meet them when her trip was over.

Already you had agreed to meet them and your nerves seemed to spike as to how that would go, but at least you wouldn’t be alone, and even if you hadn’t spent much time with her over the years you were assured Narcissa would be there for you. The similarities between your mother and the lost possible great grandparents you stood up and summoned your enchanted door.

Pt 27