#she tells me she doesn’t listen to even shit like cnn because it makes her feel bad but when i talk to her about she acts like i don’t know

[cvctuslesbian]

my mom tried to call me an idiot today because i said that i think the united states being built on the blood and subjugation of other people is bad

[enigmalynne]

A Newsroom Reunion

Title – A Newsroom Reunion

Pairings – Y/N&Jensen

Word Count – 3,970

Warnings – war crimes, depictions of torture (just in case)

Prompt – Journalist(s)

A Jewish reporter goes to Israel to cover the Israeli/Gaza war and gets taken hostage live on air in front of her boyfriend, who is anchoring the news. She's kept hostage for weeks, with no information on whether she's dead or alive being given back to her station, and her boyfriend is beyond panicked about her safety. One night, she gets rescued in a trade: American hostages for Hamas soldiers. How will her boyfriend react when she is brought back to the studio after being gone for so long, a prisoner of war?

“If anyone is going to know what the hell is going on over there, Eric, it’s me. I’ve been inundated with this shit since I was a child. If we are going to cover this, we need to make sure we cover this correctly and not like these other media hacks who are acting like this is a brand-new war,” Y/N said, pacing in front of his desk with her hands on her hips. Eric followed her with his eyes, confusion coloring his expression. 

“What do you mean?” he asked her. She scoffed as she shot him a look, continuing her path back and forth. 

“Israel and Palestine’s governments have been duking it out over land forever. I think the last negotiation back in… I think it was in 2010 when it was not accepted because Jerusalem wasn’t included in the Palestinian portion. Still, it was one of the best land distribution deals Israel had ever offered them. But that’s the key point. It’s not the people who are fighting; it’s the governments. Most of the people have been living peacefully amongst each other for decades. The people want peace,” Y/N ranted in one long breath. She then stopped and turned to face the news director face-on with narrowed eyes. “Hamas is a terrorist organization that is killing everybody: Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike. Hell, they are killing their people! They are using the Palestinians as human fucking shields and teaching the children that Jews are evil and need to be murdered.” 

Eric was quiet for a long time as he considered her words, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and concerned. 

“Your fiancé isn’t going to like it.”

“It isn’t his choice to make.” 

“Are you trying to prove something?”

“This is work, it’s not personal.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure! I want to cover this, and you know as well as I do I’m the best one to do it.” 

Eric went quiet again for a long moment before sighing. 

“Alright, fine. But you explain it to Jensen.” 

“It’s been almost three fucking weeks since anyone has heard from her, Eric, don’t tell me to calm down!” Jensen shouted at his news director. The entire newsroom at CNN pretended to ignore them while listening to the argument that had been occurring and growing in intensity every day since their lead reporter… their lead Jewish reporter… went missing while covering the Israel/Hamas crisis. 

“We are working on a solution to getting her out of there, but it takes time,” Eric explained with exaggerated calmness.

“That’s not good enough! Do we even know if she’s alive?” Jensen asked, pounding his fist into a nearby desk. Eric opened his mouth to say something to calm his lead anchor down but closed it, knowing nothing he had said could. The truth was, he had no idea if she was alive or not because despite what they were hearing about Hamas treating hostages humanely… there was zero proof of that. 

“Jensen,” Eric said, his voice low and controlled. Said Anchor roughly, running his hands over his face and shaking his head. 

“I know how good of a reporter she is, and I know she’d beat my ass for saying this, but that doesn’t mean she should have been sent there. You know she was spoiling for a fight.” 

Y/N was standing before the camera wearing a bulletproof vest with the word PRESS across her jeans and polo shirt. She wore a helmet with CNN’s logo on her head. She knew that helmet would do nothing to protect her skull from damage should a rocket land near her. Jensen knew it, too. 

Around her neck was a thin gold chain and a Star of David charm he gave her on their second anniversary. He begged her not to wear anything remotely Jewish over there, but she said she was going to represent her religion and her culture and tell the true story of the war. She had it around her neck when she kissed him goodbye at the airport before walking through the security checkpoint. She had it around her neck the last time she was seen on the air. 

Before she even finished her live shot for the evening news, Hamas terrorists were there. They grabbed her, knocking off her CNN helmet and yanking on her arm. The camera was still rolling as they shouted at her in Arabic. She tried to pull away from the man yanking on her, yelling at them that she was a reporter. She turned toward the translator with them and shouted at him to translate what she was saying. 

Back in the United States, Jensen and the rest of the staff of CNN watched in horror as Hamas dragged Y/N away from the camera and shoved her into a waiting vehicle. Jensen started shouting at the screen, saying things like she was American and a member of the Press; they couldn’t do this to her. The terrorists couldn’t hear him. No one other than the people in the studio could listen to him, not that it mattered. The car had already driven away, and she was already gone. 

“Never should have sent her out there,” Jensen muttered, leaning on one of the tables. 

“You weren’t going to stop her,” Eric said with a sad smile. “She was going to find a way to get out there and cover this war regardless of whether we sent her.”

“Hey, Jensen!” Katie called out as she walked over to where they were standing. 

“What!?” he snapped at her, turning her head to the side to glance at her. Katie paused, her eyes growing wide as she stumbled a little bit. She had never been on the receiving end of his temper before.

“Yuh… You’re uh… you’re needed on… on set… in 10,” she stuttered, her voice much more subdued and quieter than her usual perky, cheerful self. She then immediately turned and walked away as fast as she could, heading toward the producer desks with a glance over her shoulder at him. Jensen turned his head forward and closed his eyes, a curse muttered under his breath. 

“You need to get your shit together. You can’t just snap at AP’s because you’re worried about Y/N. We all are, but we also have a job to do. She’d be furious if she knew you were acting like this,” Eric reprimanded under his breath, so no one realized that he was disciplining his lead anchor in public. 

“I know,” he muttered guiltily, running a hand over his face before rubbing it over his hair and neck. “I’m just scared out of my mind and hate feeling this helpless.” 

“We’re gonna get her back,” Eric said, touching Jensen’s shoulder. “Have a little faith. Go get ready to get on air.” 

Y/N had no idea how long it had been since she had been taken, only that she was exhausted, hungry, and desperately wanted something to drink. She was given very little food and only had one glass of putrid water daily. Her clothing, which was nothing but rags at this point, was hanging off her body. Her shoes were long gone, and her feet were cut up in various places as she was forced to walk barefoot across the burning, sharp stones. 

She was sore. There was a cut on her mouth from where she was backhanded by one of the Hamas soldiers when she mouthed off to one of them, another above her eyebrow for struggling when they came into her cell. Her eye was black, her stomach hurt, and her muscles ached from lack of nutrients. 

Loud voices speaking in Arabic started shouting just outside her small room. Y/N startled, trying to shrink closer into the corner she was sitting in. Wide eyes watched as arguing men walked over to her room, one of which was unlocking the door. Someone shouted at her in Arabic, and she sat staring at the man. He repeated it, louder and angrier, but she shook her head slowly. With frustration, he walked over to her and grabbed her arm. He yanked her up to standing and shoved her out the door. 

“No, no, please,” she begged with a rough voice. Another man grabbed her arms behind her, slipping her hands through rope and tying them tightly. 

“Whatever is happening, please don’t hurt me,” she muttered, shaking her head as tears flooded her eyes. With a man on each of her sides holding tightly to an arm, Y/N was dragged out of the building and toward a waiting car. Shoved not so gently into the back seat, the door was slammed behind her. When she looked up, she saw another American there.

“What’s happening?” she whispered. The man sitting there shook his head. 

“I don’t know. Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice scratchy. 

“No, not really.” Y/N moved herself to a seated position and looked out the window. She was jolted awake over an hour later when the car stopped moving. She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep. 

“What’s going on? Where are we?” she asked, her voice still just a whisper. The man in the car with her shook his head. Suddenly, her door flew open, and she was yanked out of the car. The man shouted after her, but the same happened to him moments later. They were dragged around to the front of the vehicle and shoved toward a patch of grass. More Arabic shouted at them, guns drawn and pointed at them until they were standing on the green grass. Once there, they returned to their vehicles and drove away. 

The four Americans looked at each other, wondering what to do next, when a string of Jeeps bearing the Israeli Defense Foundation insignia pulled up. The relief that flooded Y/N at that moment brought her to her knees, and she began to sob. 

“They didn’t even untie their hands, those filthy bastards,” she heard one of the soldiers with a thick Israeli accent mutter as they came closer to them. One of them came up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder as another one went to the ropes behind her back and began to untie her hands. 

“Are you alright? Here, has some water,” she said, holding a bottle of cold water. Y/N looked up, her tear-streaked face looking into the kind eyes of a young Israeli soldier. She held the bottle to Y/N’s mouth and let her drink a bit before pulling it away. “Only a little; you don’t want to be sick.” Once her hands were free, the other soldier approached her opposite side. 

“Come, let us help you up and get you someplace safe. You have many people worried about you,” the kind Israeli soldier said. They each took one of Y/N’s arms and helped her stand and walk to one of the waiting Jeeps. 

“With the latest on the Israeli/Hamas conflict, we head into the newsroom to our correspondent Jared Padalecki. Jared,” Jensen read off the prompter. Jared nodded his head with a somber expression.

“We have just learned moments ago that Hamas has released four American hostages, however, the identities of those hostages are currently unknown,” Jared said as he referred to information he was looking at on a computer. 

Jensen’s eyes lit up at the comment, his heart picking up its pace. Hostages have been released.

“What we do know is the four hostages are American and were taken during the early days of the conflict,” Jared continued. “As you know, CNN’s Y/N Y/L/N was taken hostage from assignment during an air raid near the Erez Crossing. CNN has been in negotiations with Hamas for the safe release of Y/L/N but with no success yet.” 

Jensen’s breathing ticked up a notch, his eyes bouncing between the monitor showing Jared, his report, and the camera. He knew Eric was in the control room, monitoring the show from the booth tonight. He knew Eric was monitoring him from the booth tonight. 

Jensen shook his head as he glanced down at his hands, wanting nothing more than to jump up from his seat and call every contact he knew to find out if Y/N was among the four rescued Americans. There were four chances that Y/N were among the rescued hostages, and he could have her back in his arms any day now. 

Jo, the female anchor for the evening, reached over and squeezed his hand. He looked over at her with red-lined eyes. She gave him a hopeful look before retreating to her seat. 

A few days later - 

Y/N watched the elevator numbers change slowly, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet. Her arms were wrapped around her middle as if they were holding herself together. Her hair was dirty despite multiple showers at the hospital she was taken to, and then she was debriefed at the military base, so she pulled it back into a messy bun on the top of her head. Whisps and strands fell around her face and down her back anyway. Her skin was sunburnt: her cheeks and nose were bright red, and her lips were chapped despite the heavy layers of ChapStick she had been wearing since the hospital. The cuts to her lip and eyebrow were still healing, but the black eye was still dark and swollen.

They gave her a pair of worn jeans that belonged to someone who worked on the base and an oversized T-shirt that fell to her knees. She took a pair of scissors to the T-shirt, slicing up the side and knotting it at her hip. Military-issue boots adorned her feet.

She was tired and still hungry despite the food she was given. She was still thirsty despite countless bottles of fresh, cold water she had drank. And this? This was the slowest elevator ride ever. 

The two Marines escorting her had been kind the entire time they were with her. Making sure she had enough water and whether she wanted any more food. She was always asking her about her comfort. She asked one of them if they had any advice on how to make the nightmares stop so she could get some sleep. He had smiled in a reflective, sad way and told her that time was the only way. She didn’t speak much after that. 

When the elevator finally opened on the 18th floor, she walked out and looked around the newsroom for someone she knew. When her eyes landed on a television and saw that Jensen was on air, she realized just how late it was. Without thinking about it, she slowly made her way toward the studio. That’s when the whispers began around her, but she ignored them. She had one thing on her mind at that moment.

“Ma’am, do you know where you are heading to?” one of the Marines asked gently. Nodding, Y/N reached over and grabbed the handle of the heavy door that led to the studio. 

“Y/N!?” a voice called out in surprise. She turned her head toward the voice, staring blankly at Meg. “Oh, my God… Y/N…”  Meg started to go over to where the tired woman was, but Y/N shook her head.

“I’m seeing Jensen first. I don’t care if he’s on the air,” she whispered roughly, her eyes watering. She gave the producer a broken smile, then pulled the door open. 

“Oh, my God,” Meg repeated, watching as Y/N entered the studio with two dressed Marines following her. Suddenly, she snapped out of her stupor and turned, shouting as she ran to the booth. “Katie!! Find Eric and tell him to get his ass to the booth! Y/N’s back, and she’s about to interrupt the newscast!” Katie was startled, confusion coloring her face. 

“What?”

“Now, Katie!” Meg shouted as she ran down the long hallway to the production booth, where a crew was putting the show on air. She threw the door open, startling the people inside. 

“What the fuck, Meg!” the director shouted at her, looking at the well-liked executive producer like she was crazy.

“Whatever is about to happen, stay with it. Y/N’s about to reunite with Jensen on air right now!” she shouted, walking over to the producer's seat. She pushed the producer out of the way, holding out her hand. “Gimme your headset, gimme gimme gimme”

Y/N slowly made her way around the long wooden wall that made up the set's backdrop and turned the corner into the room. Lights above them angled toward a large desk centered in front of the backdrop, and cameras with people manning them were also pointed at the desk. Y/N didn’t see any of it. Once she spotted Jensen, she made her way to stand in his sightline. The water gathering in her eyes started to fall as she stared at her fiancé. 

He was studying the paper scripts in front of him, a pen in his hand. He made some notes in the margins of the paper. Suddenly, he frowned and moved to hold a button down before he spoke. 

“Whatever it is, Meg, it can wait,” he snapped, letting go of the button and returning to his notes. A small smile danced on Y/N’s lips, the movement feeling foreign. He repeated the action a moment later, snapping at the producer again. 

“Jensen,” she tried to say, but it came out as a whisper. Dropping her head, she tried to clear her throat, swallowed, and then looked up again… into the vast green eyes of her fiancé. He was staring at her in disbelief, his breath almost nonexistent. 

“Jen,” she muttered roughly, quietly. 

“Y/N?” Jensen asked in disbelief, moving slowly: he stood, reaching into his ear to pull out his earpiece simultaneously. The second time, he said her name was stronger. “Y/N?”  She nodded a small smile on her lips, tears making their way down her face. That’s when his restraint broke. He moved around the desk and to her in three steps, wrapping her in his arms. 

“Thank you, God,” he muttered as he held her as close to him as he could get, one arm wrapped around her, the other pressed against her neck. Once Jensen’s arms were wrapped around her, and her arms were wrapped around him, she began to cry. 

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” she whispered, pressing herself as close to him as possible. He pulled back slightly and gently brushed her tears away with his thumbs before pressing his mouth to hers in a gentle but passionate kiss. 

“I love you so much,” he breathed once they separated. 

“I love you,” she repeated, pressing her lips back on his. They separated and stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment before Jensen pulled her back into his arms, relishing the feeling of her being there again. 

“I’m never letting you go on assignment again.” 

“I’m okay with that,” she said with a smile, looking up at him, her face wet with tears. She looked tired and beaten up, dressed in clothing that wasn’t hers and didn’t fit her, and it was the best thing Jensen had ever seen. 

Moving carefully to wrap his arm around her shoulders, Jensen led them out of the studio and back into the newsroom. Once there, the entire room erupted in cheers, causing Y/N to flinch and pull away. One of the Marines with them immediately took control of the situation and moved forward to quiet down the cheering friends. 

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Jensen asked quickly, his voice laced with panic. Y/N shook her head frantically as she pulled away, trying to back away from him. The other Marine who was with them gently removed Jensen from her side and began to speak quietly to the frightened woman who was on the verge of a panic attack. 

“Take a breath, ma’am. You’re in New York now, not Gaza. Close your eyes and pay attention to your surroundings. Notice that the air smells different here. Things feel different here…” 

It took almost ten minutes, but soon, Y/N could open her eyes and breathe normally again. At some point, she had made it onto the floor. She looked to the Marine apologetically and shook her head, looking away. She rubbed her hand over her chest and held back a sob. 

“Hey, we talked about this. It’s going to take a while. Finding a good therapist to help you work through the trauma is going to be necessary, but having friends and family here to help you is a great first step,” the Marine said, kneeling next to her. Jensen came up next to her, finally being allowed to approach her. “We didn’t warn anyone about your aversion to loud sounds like we had discussed doing, so it’s expected that this would have happened.”

“Is she okay?” Jensen asked quietly, kneeling. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

“She will be. Right?” Y/N nodded slowly, accepting the hands to help her stand. She looked over at the group of people watching anxiously.

“There’s a lot of people who want to see you,” Jensen said quietly, looking back into the newsroom. Everyone stood and looked on worriedly. “You think you can handle that?” Y/N nodded and made her way over. Moments later, they swarmed her in a group hug. 

“Are you the gentlemen who brought our Y/N back to us?” Eric asked, approaching the two Marines standing near them. The Marines turned to face the news director, and one nodded. 

“We escorted her here as she requested,” he answered. “She was held there the longest and experienced the worst of the abuse. I’m the Chaplain of the Navy, Captain Mathew Davis, and this is Lieutenant William Arnold.” Eric held his hand out, which the Marine shook.

“Thank you for bringing her home.” 

“Just doing our job.” 

“You did more than that, trust me,” Eric said, shaking the other man’s hand. The two Marines nodded, then turned and left the building. 

“I wanna go home. Can we go home, Jen?” Y/N asked softly, looking up at her fiancé with tired eyes. Jensen looked down at her, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Of course. Let’s get you home,” he muttered. Eric watched the couple stand and turn. 

“Take a few weeks off, Jen,” he said, causing Jensen to turn and look at him. “I’ll send you the contact information of a good therapist. You both should go. We’ll talk next week sometime.” 

“Thanks, Eric,” Jensen said with a soft smile, his arm wrapped around the most crucial thing in his life. Eric’s eyes drifted down to his star reporter, recognizing the look of trauma all too well. 

“You have no idea how glad I am you made it out of there, kid,” Eric said quietly. Jensen looked down at Y/N and moved his arm as she hugged Eric. Eric closed his eyes and held her tighter, kissing her temple. 

“Thanks, Uncle Eric,” she whispered before pulling away. Eric brushed some hair from Y/N’s face, causing her to smile softly before curling back under Jensen’s arm.

“Get out of here. I’ll come by this weekend, and we can talk more then,” Eric said. Jensen nodded, pulling Y/N with him. 

“I’m never letting you go,” Jensen whispered to her hair as he kissed her head, guiding her to the elevator. Y/N laid her head on his chest and sighed. 

“I’m holding you to it.”

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

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15.13: Destiny’s Child - Episode Review/Recap

[Image of episode missing, because out of 15 photos of the promo, only 1 photo was of Sam and Dean and it wasn’t that good.  Other 14 photos were a combination of Ruby, Jo, Castiel and Jack - I shit you not]

I think this episode highlights beautifully many of the issues I and I know a lot of other people are having with the show.

The highlights of the episode are undoubtedly the scenes where AU Sam and Dean interact with our Sam and Dean.  This is why I make a big deal of how much they are being paid per episode. Look at what happens when you write for the people earning the quarter of a million dollars in the episode.  Look what happens when you have it just be them, with no “fan favourite” side characters to pander to.  Chemistry happens, and watering that down or separating it entirely, adding someone into it or trying to force it between characters who just don’t have it, is one of the shows biggest issues in recent seasons and largest contributor to people not watching live or choosing not to watch at all because without that chemistry that made the show special, what are you left with?

Drabbernatural my friends, that’s what you’re left with.

The lowlights of the episode are all the scenes that have been written to pander to a small percentage of the watching audience, so pretty much the rest of the episode in all honesty.  

Under a cut because some people are in denial.

THEN

Flashback to Castiel watching porn about a pizza man.  All that’s in my head from this is Meg!  I think we’re getting Meg (let’s be real, I know we’re getting Meg as it’s already been on my dash, but I would have still thought this regardless of spoilers).  There it is, there’s the canon Megstiel kiss 😍. I’m amazed Dabb managed to keep his big mouth shut on this spoiler.  Anyway, skip this in the entirety to move onto...

NOW

Loved, loved, loved this opening scene. 🥰. Loved everything about it from start to finish.  No complaints whatsoever.

We start with Sam and Dean.  Just Sam and Dean like the good old days 😍. I can’t believe how happy that makes me and they haven’t done anything yet.  

Sam’s going through the books, Dean’s on the laptop, barely any space between them and they appear to be trying to find where Chuck is. They seem to be having no luck.

Sam: Any sign of him? Dean: Nah, nothing yet.  Chucks probably trashing a few dozen universes outside of CNN’s range.

They hear a noise and rush to investigate.  They see a bright light filtering through the bottom of the door of one the rooms. As they look at it, the light (as well as the noise) disappears.  Instantly in hunter mode, Dean indicates for Sam to open the door and they see…

A tiny car that I thought was a mini but have been reliably informed by someone much more knowledgeable than me (which isn’t too difficult tbh) is a Fiat 500. Thank you @alexa-alcantara​.  It’s a cute little car, and a beautiful colour but my own experience of owning a Fiat is not a good memory.  My garage telling me they call them the “Fix It Again Tony” of cars did not help me look any more favourably at them, but on the plus side, I built up a good relationship with my garage from the many hours I spent there.  The car is in front of a portal so it’s clear it’s just come through from one of the other worlds.

Emerging from that cute little car is 12’ 6” of muscle in the form of AU Winchesters.  The car practically groans in relief (I do see it lift up slightly) as they get out to the tune of “I want you” by Savage Garden.” Thank you once again Shazam as I’m as shit on music as I am at identifying cars.  

Did I say I love this scene?  I just…love this entire scene. AU Dean’s in the driving seat (of course), We see AU Sam’s foot emerge and he has no socks on – which I’m wondering is a shoutout to that photo shoot they had with no socks. Possibly it’s the fashion right now which I know even less about than cars or music. The entire scene, it’s just… perfection.  It’s just so well shot, I love that AU Sam and Dean could not be more different from our Sam and Dean from their clothes to the hair. I’ve fallen in love with both these new characters within a 10 second timeframe and they haven’t even spoken yet! That is the genius of Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles on screen, together, without extras, supported by the entire crew from special effects through to wardrobe.  They can all bring their A game which makes it all the more disappointing in the scenes and episodes where they don’t bother.

AU Dean looks back at the portal they came through.

AU SAM: Bro…We did it

AU Sam and Dean fist bump at their success and I’m in danger of losing it.  😂 Side note to size kinkers; that is not Jared and Jensen’s hands there 😂. Hey, no judging from this blog, but I personally don’t consider Jared “huge” and Jensen “tiny”, but you do you.

AU Sam and Dean are too flushed with their own success of getting through the portal to notice our Sam and Dean yet.  Meanwhile, our Sam and Dean are looking at the new arrivals with increasing horror.

AU Dean finally notices our Dean and we get the “Sam” “Dean” “Dean” “Sam” exchange between the four of them.

AU Sam and Dean: What the heck? Our Sam and Dean: What the hell?

Somewhere, I’m hoping that there’s an AU world where they say, “What the fuck?” because I think that would really please Jared.

Each look horrified at the other – I think AU!Sam may be on the point of tears seeing his doppelgänger dressed in plaid.

The portal starts making a loud ominous noise, AU Dean says “aw nuts” and AU Sam and Dean look at each other before the portal goes haywire, exploding in a bright white light, causing our versions to shield their eyes.  When they look back up, AU Winchesters, the car and the portal have all disappeared and the room is back to normal.

What the Heck?  You bring them back right now show!  Don’t be bringing in waste of space or “fan favourite” characters when all I want is these two.  

Sadly, the show does not listen, and we’re forced against our will onto the next scene.

Sam and Dean are explaining to waste of space that a rift opened in the armoury (is that right? I didn’t see any weapons in that room, but it sounded like he said armoury).  Sam says two guys stepped out that looked just like them. Dean: except not, and don’t even get me started about the car. Waste of space does not understand which is his standard operating procedure since his first episode tbh.  I’m not sure if this is still supposed to be funny; it’s been 11 years since season 4. 😴. 

Dean says welcome to the club.  

What?  The dumbass club?  Sam and Dean are such dumbasses that they need Billie to suddenly appear to confirm they’ve met an AU version of themselves running from their reality. Seriously?  😡. They know other worlds are being destroyed, they rescued Kaia from one in the process of being destroyed and that was only last week!  They don’t think that other Sam and Deans in other universes are going to be figuring out what’s happening and trying to do something to stop it?  It doesn’t make sense.  Sam and Dean do reckless things, but they aren’t dumb. 😡

As an aside, what I loved about the AU Sam and Dean we just met, is that they didn’t try to save their world, they were only interested in saving their own pretty asses by trying to jump worlds and I love how different they are from our Sam and Dean who would, and have, sacrificed themselves in a heartbeat to save their world.

I used to like Billie but all the monologuing over the last couple of episodes is 😴 which is not the actresses fault, but there are also some issues with delivery of the lines (because it’s boring). Key point from this entire boring scene is:

Billie: He’s almost done, wrapping up all those other worlds and when he is…Sam: it’s our turn

Billie agrees and says they need to be prepared.  She has the next step… for Jack.

Jack appears on cue, eating a sandwich.  He says he’s ready and feeling good about it.  I’m feeling I’m missing a scene somewhere. Did he already have a chat with Billie, so he knows what she’s about to say?  I’m not sure but don’t care enough to spend any time on it.

Billy monologues that the first quest (eating the hearts) was to strengthen Jack’s body. Step 2 is more spiritual in nature.

Waste of space: can you be more specific? Me: you’re that asshole that asks questions during presentations, aren’t you? Give her a chance to monologue ffs.  She was just about to tell us before your unnecessary interruption. I don’t even have a clue what your contribution to this scene is, other than pre-emptory meltdown avoidance of 200 accounts on twitter.  Death: Jack needs to find the occultum Sam: the occultum? Occultum, that’s Latin for… hidden. Where do we find it? Me: you’re so smart 😍 Death (sarcastic): I don’t know… It’s hidden

Ah yes, a side character making the Winchesters look stupid never gets old. 🙄

Anyway, more boring monologuing later, it’s been hidden for centuries, it’s sacred and potent.  It’s not a weapon per se but it’s powerful.

Dean(sarcastically): Okay, thanks, big help.

She asks Jack if he’s ready and he says he is. She says that’s good, that they have to be ready and vigilant and not stupid (looks at the Winchesters).  Dean’s eyeroll matches mine almost exactly.  Sick, fed up of the Winchesters being called stupid by side characters.  Oh, I said that already.  Well I am!

Avoiding this scene in future and moving on.

Sam and Dean are researching the occultum.  Or at least Sam’s researching and ranting about the occultum, but Deans playing with an elastic band and barely listening. Sam gets his attention and asks what he’s doing. Dean’s thinking about things and how if Jack kills god, that still leaves “you know who”. Sam says: Amara. Dean thinks that if Jack kills god, he’ll have to kill her too, because if you take Chuck off the board, that throws things out of balance and the world ends. If there’s no God or Darkness, nothing is out of balance.

Sam: Okay, Yeah, but who takes over, Jack?

Dean contemplates that and is about to answer when Jack walks in, blowing a bubblegum bubble and announcing he just learned how to do that.

Dean turns back to Sam: Probably not

I love little scenes like this, zero pandering, just classic Supernatural and classic Dean. 😍

Overall, it was another good brother scene (taking aside the boring plot which we can’t do anything about).

Parents Sam and Dean speak to Jack about how he’s going to take down Chuck because Billie hasn’t been clear on the plan.

Dean: Yeah, when you go up against Chuck, you’re gonna what? (makes boxing moves), duck and weave, or just go in for the full smite? 😂

My Dean is back with the one liners in this episode and I love him.  

Jack: Yeah, you know, something like that

Dean’s face. 😂

Unsurprisingly Sam and Dean are not reassured, they’re about to ask more questions when waste of space walks in and good news guys!  Unbelievably, He has information from fellow waste of space/plot device Sergei (does waste of space only have one contact?).  The show aren’t even trying anymore with this shit. Istg. 🙄 Ah what would we do without waste of space?  Definitely have a much more decent episode if I’m going to be perfectly honest.

Anyway, when waste of space announces who he has information from:

Dean: Him? Are we that desperate? 😂

Of course, Sergei knows about the occultum 🙄. He would have been extremely useful to have had around in the early seasons. Each episode would have been tied up in 30 seconds with one phonecall to the font of all knowledge.  I hate characters like this and the laziness of the writing to continue to fallback on him.

Supernatural writer: Hey boss, I’m stuck a little on the occultum storyline Dabb: Have you tried using waste of space and Sergei? Supernatural writer: I didn’t think of that! Great idea, thanks!  I guess that’s why you’re the boss! Me: 🙄 you lazy 🤬

Waste of space monologues about the occultum and what happened to it, he starts off that its divine in origin and was housed in a temple for hundreds of years before…

Dean: it was plundered by pirates! Waste of space: No Dean: it was dug up by tomb raiders! Waste of space: No Dean: it was seized by the king of the dead and his war lords.  Am I close? Waste of space: looted by invading mongol hoardes for trade on the black market Dean: on the black market (looks at Sam) That’s what I thought. I was going to say that next, that was the next one.

Sam indulges his hunter husband.  Oh wait, this is our Sam and Dean, not the AU version.  Rewinds to check.  No, Sam is indulging his hunter husband. He asks waste of space where it is now.

Long explanation later, the object was given to a faith healer in return for saving the owners life.  

Faith healer?  How convenient.  Now, who do we know that’s a faith healer? 🙄

Waste of space doesn’t have a name – are you kidding me? He must have had a name to go to the faith healer. He at least has a description.  She was attractive 🙄 and had glowing hands while healing.

It’s your wife, Jensen!  Erm I mean, Sister Jo.  

Imagine that entire scene with waste of space and Sergei plot device removed, Sam found the information from research and that entire conversation was between him and Dean.  Infinitely better and rewatchable.

Sam and Dean go off to visit Jensen’s wife Sister Jo who at this point of the show’s run has somehow been cast in 4 previous episodes and every single appearance has been completely forgettable.  This one is no different.

I’m going to rant for a second.  This stunt casting, bringing back of “fan favourites”, nepotism, lazy writing crap is really dragging the quality of the show down. We’ve had so many shit, boring, waste of time episodes this season.  You could have replaced a couple of them with the Winchesters trying to track down this elusive but needed item.  Make it hard for them, get rid of Sergei and Jensen’s wife Sister Jo and make the finding of this artefact interesting and more believable by introducing new characters for them to interact with.  This is just… really bleh.

Anyway, Sam and Dean go to see one of the most boring characters ever created, and that includes waste of space who was badass in season 4-5, a dick yes, but a badass none the less so he gets a pass.  This is not a good scene, it’s worth fast forwarding and forgetting it ever existed, not least because of bad dialogue and questionable acting. I am really, really not a wife hater, but neither will I give someone a free pass because of who they are married to.  You come on the show, you get judged on your own merits, same as any other guest actor. Long story short, they want the thingamajig I’ve forgotten the name of because I had a 6 hour watching break to work up to watching this scene and that was not nearly long enough. Jo doesn’t want to give it to them, and Sam and Dean pull angel blades on her.  She says she didn’t have it, Ruby does.

Where’s that gif.  Where the fuck is that gif?  Oh, found it…

This next scene, I just 😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬.  Okay, I can do this, woman’s up and presses play, weeping for what once was the entire time I’m watching.  

We get a pointless scene which as predicted, is nothing less than a gimmick, written only to have “the wives” on the show in the same episode and in the same scene.  I think this is the angriest I’ve ever been watching a show and we haven’t reached the point in the episode where Sam is reduced to a doorstopper.  Oh yes, that gem has still to come.  🤬😡🤬!!!

Somehow, even though Ruby is terrified of angels and Jo wasn’t on earth at the same time as Ruby, they somehow not only met, but worked together.  Jo says the vessel suits Ruby better than the blond.  Not in this household missy.  We stan the infinitely better Katie Cassidy (fine there might have been a childhood crush on watching reruns of her father that sways the debate in her favour slightly but that’s neither here nor there!).

Okay, no sorry.  I thought I could take one for the team, but I can’t. This entire scene would not ever have been made if the show was in the hands of a competent showrunner.  It’s just complete nonsense with absolutely no attempt by the writer to respect the audience or canon and not worth even documenting what happens as it’s all a crock of 💩. Do yourselves a favour and ignore it.  All you need to know is Ruby has the thingamajig they need. It was stashed somewhere in hell.

Back at the bunker, Jack has take out, lots and lots of take out; pizza (no pineapple), fried chicken, hot dogs, nachos, Chinese food… Waste of space joins him.  They talk about Jack not having a soul.  Jack says he understands why Sam and Dean were angered by what happened to Mary

Castiel: by what you did to Mary

He gets a pass for this line (and his name back briefly) because it needed to be said so he wasn’t a waste of space for once.

Jack sees things have changed, especially with Dean.  

I see a bit of chatter on this one.  I don’t understand the chatter.  Sam forgives people, this goes way back that he’s able to forgive people and not hold a grudge.  He’s had a darkness inside him his entire life, he’s had to fight against his nature to be who he is, so of course he’s going to be more forgiving, more understanding of someone he sees as being similar to him.  Add to the fact that Sam did not build a strong relationship with Mary - he’s sad she’s gone - but I think he’s more accepting of it than Dean. All of this has been shown in episodes, so when Jack asks, “Will he ever forgive me?”  He’s not asking about Sam because he knows through Sam’s words and actions that Sam has forgiven him, but he knows Dean hasn’t.  I don’t have an issue with this, and you know I’m a bitter Sam fan, I’ll reserve my anger for later in the episode.

So, for me, waste of space only talks about Dean for the same reason (and shockingly not because he’s gay for the human).  He says, “Dean, he feels things more acutely than any human I’ve ever known, so it’s possible he can work through this. One day he may explode, let it all out and breath deeply and move on.”

Jack asks how long that will take. waste of space says he doesn’t know.

I understand the point of the scene, it’s not the worst. I’d prefer if my boys were saving people, hunting things obviously, but this was an okay scene.  I do like Alex and what he brings to the table – though don’t like when too much focus is put on him or Sam’s relationship with him is sidelined.

Sam and Dean return to the bunker.  Dean asks if Sam’s sure they can swing this again.  Sam says they still have Rowena’s notes from the spell. Dean: Okay, Samwitch, lets do this.”  I love how Dean hates witches, he was still wary of Rowena though could see her uses, but the minute Sam is a witch, Dean’s all aboard the witch train. 😂

Waste of space appears, Dean tells him that they sorta know where the occultum is.  Waste of space looks worried and they know something is wrong. They follow him through the bunker to one of the rooms.  Their AU selves are projected on the wall.  I just… Why was the entire episode not their doppelgängers?  I love them. AU Dean screams (but we can’t hear him). AU Sam seems far more relaxed about the situation.  They can’t see or hear our Sam or Dean.  Sam asks waste of space where they are.

Waste of space thinks the blast trapped them between dimensions as the rift and their world was destroyed.  AU Dean tapping on the wall, and trying to get a cell phone signal, I just can’t… 😂

Dean: Are they in pain? Waste of space doesn’t think so.  Dean says “Good” goes to leave.  Sam tries to stop him.  Dean says they’ll deal with them, but first they have to go to hell. Waste of space: woah, you do?

Sam explains that’s where Jo said Ruby stashed the occultum

Waste of space: Ruby? The demon you were sexually intimate with?   Dean: Sexually intimate? Sam (strongly): Yes!

I’ve seen a lot of chatter on this one as well. Some claiming that Dean is questioning the choice of wording by waste of space.  I don’t see that.  I see this as another fail, that they are somehow trying to claim Dean doesn’t know Sam and Ruby had a sexual relationship, even though Sam went into it in explicit detail in “I know what you did last summer”, to the point Dean asked him to stop.  If they were going for the choice of wording, they failed in both facial expressions and dialogue.

They have a discussion, not worth repeating, too much focus on waste of space. Upshot is Sam and Dean are going to Hell.  

Sam and Dean arrive on the Charmed set in Hell.  I’m expecting them to meet Julian McMahon striding down the corridor.  They meet a demon who informs them that Rowena is hosting a reception for newly condemned souls.  The demon doesn’t seem happy about that. He starts taking them to Rowena.  This is a pretty pointless scene tbh.

Back in the bunker, waste of space says to Jack that he doesn’t trust Jo’s story, he wants to speak to Ruby who apparently is in the empty.  I’m losing it with where entities end up these days. I’m guessing if demons are exorcised, like Meg was, then they go back to Hell.  If they are killed permanently, like Alastair was by Sam, they end up in the Empty?   I guess it makes sense.

Anyway, waste of space needs Jack’s assistance to get to the empty. He needs Jack to kill him…

Damn, false alarm, it’s only an “almost kill”.  Yeah, I would probably be too thorough.  Okay Jack, carry on, you’re up.

I don’t understand how he’ll be able to do anything in the empty, won’t he be kept in a state of nothing?

Jack reminds waste of space that the empty doesn’t like him. Waste of space says he’s far from happy so he should be okay.

Jack: Cass, I, I may not have a soul, but I know killing you is wrong, what if I screw up? Waste of space: well then, I’ll be lost forever… but I think you’ll do fine.

Jack has to draw out most of waste of space’s life force into a flask, and keep an eye on him so he doesn’t die for real. He also has to tend the spell to ensure Sam and Dean are not lost in Hell forever either (but to me it seems really easy to get in and out of, not like the early days so don’t see them being stuck there as a problem).  Remember back in season 2 when hell was this...

Sam: Hell is like, um ... (punches Dean)... well, it's like hell, even for demons. (punches Dean again)... It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear. 

Good times.  Now we have Barbie!Hell and anyone can just walk in and it isn’t scary.  But yeah, tell me again that I should stop being critical and the show hasn’t deteriorated beyond all recognition

Sam and Dean follow the lackey they met in Hell to where Rowena is hosting a meet and greet for the new arrivals to Hell.  Or at least that’s where they were supposed to be taken, turns out it’s a trap. Of course, it is, because dumchesters 🙄, but at least we get a decent fight out of it as they are set upon by three demons carrying angel blades.  Dean kills two, Sam holds the third hostage so they can find out who betrayed them. Unsurprisingly it was Jo 🙄 Sam then kills the demon (after Dean gives a nod to do so).

Dean: that bitch set us up!

We switch to sister Jo and see her packing up and leaving, so she must know her plan failed, and Sam and Dean will soon be after her.

We’re now in The Empty with waste of space and for sure as shit, this scene changing whiplash, disregard of canon, lack of continuity between other episodes, focus on side characters has to mean this is a suck-lemons episode. He’s shouting for Ruby.  He doesn’t get her, we hear, “Hello Clarence”

Waste of space spins around and it’s Meg!  He’s so happy to see her and disappointed that it’s the empty. No offence to Rachel, love her, she does great in the episode and Megstiel will always be canon, but just not interested in any of this.

Next scene is waste of space and Ruby.  Fast forwarding other than to say no sweetie, Sam didn’t kill you, but I don’t blame you, I blame the writers who are too lazy to do any research. Sam should have killed you, but it was Dean that did it.  

Another scene between Ruby and Jo, as forgettable as the first.   Lucifer and Michael weren’t circling their vessels when you were still breathing you morons.   Lucifer hadn’t yet been released, but what is canon on this show when you can blast it aside and have the wives in a scene together and isn’t it wonderful?  Eh, I’m gonna say hard no on that one.

Another scene between Ruby and waste of space. In true Ruby style, she’ll help him if he gets her out of the empty.  Oh, and the occultum is a place, not a thing, that’s all we need to know.

Fast forwarding all of this as it’s pandering trite, not worthy of my time, besides the dumbchesters are back from Hell and I think Jack might be in trouble with them.

Jack (guilty): Guys… you’re back Dean (looking between Jack and waste of space’s body): Jack? What the hell?

Severe whiplash alert!  We’re back with Ruby and waste of space. Ruby monologues that the Empty is a place where all you do is dream about your regrets over and over for eternity.  Well then, just as well I have no regrets in life, other than watching seasons 12-14 of Supernatural.  Wait, imagine that on repeat for eternity.  NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Waste of space says he knows.  In fairness to waste of space, at least he will have a vast range of playbacks on the amount of regrets he should have over the years, so he won’t get bored anytime soon.

Whiplash alert!  We’ve left the corned beef actors and are back with the porterhouse steak.  They advance on Jack.

Jack: He’s dead, kind of… for now Sam: What?!

Whiplash!  Get me back to the porterhouse damn it!   Waste of space agrees to try to get Ruby out, she whispers in waste of space’s ear, “the occultum, it’s…”

Whiplash!  I’m suing at this point in the episode tbh.  

Jack: Cass went to the empty, hopefully to find Ruby, hopefully to find out where this occultum thing is located, hopefully (puppy eyes)

Whiplash!  Ruby steps away and disappears.  Waste of space’s face is interesting, and I’m intrigued where it is.

Whiplash!  

Sam and Dean’s faces. 😂

Sam: that’s way too many hopefullys! Dean: Bring him back, now!

Okay Hellers, here’s a test.  If Sam had said that line, would you have interpreted it as Sam speaking as a parent or Sam concerned about waste of space because he’s secretly in love with him? Dean is obviously concerned, but he’s speaking to Jack as a parent.  

Jack opens the flask to release waste of space’s grace.  But The Empty (still in Meg’s form) is reluctant to let him go.  Turns out as she’s torturing waste of space that The Empty has a deal with Death, she helps Death and she can go back to sleep when Death’s plan works.  We alternate between waste of space being tortured and Jack trying to revive him.

Dean: come on, wake up pal. Dean: Come on Cass, come on Dean: Cass!

Pandering!  

Waste of space wakes up.  The Empty says, “see you soon”

I hope she does because yes, I love watching a show where my leads are made out to be dumbasses and the waste of space that should have been killed off years ago is the hero.  I’m losing count of how many episodes that’s happened this season. Sick of it. 🤬

Waste of space (looks at Dean): you made it back Dean: Yeah, and so did you!  You’re an idiot by the way! Sam chimes in: What if this hadn’t worked?

Waste of space says it did [work].  The occultum was never in Hell.  The occultum is the safest place in the world. Jo was never going to give that up. Waste of space knows where it is and asks, “Am I still an idiot?”

I’m actually so angry right now.  Who does this?  What shitty writer makes their lead cast look like idiots in order to big up a side character. What does he have on someone because I’m at a loss for any other logical explanation at this point for them willingly ruining the show.

Anyway, Dean says “well yeah”. Me: hell to the fuck yeah, you’re still an idiot and I hate you even more after this episode than I did before.

Sam wants to go to the place.

Jack reminds them if Chuck checks in on them and sees what they’re doing, they’ll lose.

Dean’s plan involves using their doppelgängers to pretend to be them.  They’ll open up a rift and he thinks waste of space’s grace will be enough to pull them through. Sam thinks it might also blast them to another world.

AU Sam and Dean are playing rock, paper, scissors.  AU Sam throws scissors and wins.  AU Dean’s reaction. 😂

Sam mixes up the spell for the portal and they place it at the wall where AU Sam and Dean are trapped.  Bright light later and…

… it obviously works because AU Sam and AU Dean are now sitting at the map table with a beer in front of each of them.  Our Sam and Dean are currently standing.  And I cannot do any justice to this scene.  It is perfect from start to finish.  Go watch the genius of Jared and Jensen at play with no one else cluttering up the scene.

Upshot of this scene is that AU John is (or was) alive, they got separated coming through the portal. He spoils them, (Dean: he spoils you?!) John has set up a very successful business called Huntercorp. They get paid (Dean: you get paid?!) for hunting monsters all over the world and have a private jet.  I would ask what they’re doing driving around in a Fiat 500 instead of a luxury car, but I’m having too much fun, so it gets a free pass and I won’t nitpick.  Let’s headcanon it’s all they could get a hold of to get through the rift and leave it at that.  They keep toasting their beers to their dad, “the best guy ever” but they don’t seem too cut up that he and their world have gone splody.  I love these versions, they seem to be fine they made it through and they have each other.  I’d like to see one without the other as I think they’d give our brothers a run for their money in the codependency stakes.  

AU Sam’s pinkie is raised while he drinks, and I can’t with the silent genius that is Jared Padalecki when he inhabits a character.

Our Sam and Dean during all of this. 😂.

Dean explains to the AU’s that they need them to pose as them for a while.   In order to do that, Sam tells his AU self he has to lose the man bun.  AU Sam’s reaction 😂.  He is not happy.  AU Dean closes his eyes and sits back, putting a hand over his mouth.  I thought at first he wasn’t happy at our Sam, but no, the reaction is because he knows how his Sam reacts about his hair (*whispers* I suspect AU Dean has suggested many times that AU Sam let his hair down… for reasons and AU Sam has refused, so its an old argument).  Sure enough, AU Sam says he will not.  Our boys ignore that and also tactfully suggest they will need to change their clothes.

Next, we see the impala at night, driving towards a church. All TFW 2.0 are in the car. 🙄

They walk up to the church doors and Jack says he knows he hasn’t been doing this as long as them, but doesn’t it seem too easy.

They agree and at that moment hear a growling.  

Jack: is that a bear?

Dean starts trying to get the church doors open by picking the lock

Sam: No, it’s more like uh… Waste of space: hellhounds Sam (as the hellhounds are approaching): Dean… Dean, you wanna hurry a little bit?

Dean gets the door open and they all get inside just in time. Sam and Dean get the door closed and Dean asks Sam if he’s got it.  I’ve seen a lot of chatter on this one. This scene alone highlights one of the many, many things wrong with the show and why it’s no longer enjoyable.  I think they were trying for ha ha comedy. Sam trying to keep the door closed while they are all standing around like idiots, but it isn’t funny and reduces Sam down to muscle rather than what he actually brings to the show, and both waste of space and Jack are stronger. 

Waste of space should have been holding the door (or not been there at all, which is preferable) and the scene should have been Sam, Dean and Jack.  No excuses for why it wasn’t done this way (other than pandering).  A line of pandering is annoying but acceptable, sidelining Jared to cater an entire scene to them is completely unncceptable. You’ve pissed off the Jared/Sam fans which are many more than Misha/Castiel (despite what they try to tell themselves), and you’ve pissed off the brother fans which are the majority of the audience.

Waste of space says the top of the cross points the way and they all look up at the cross high on the church wall.

As a side note, the Hellers are so cute, counting Sam and Dean standing in a church with their “son” as their wedding.  Refrains from slapping 8.23 down in front of them where Dean actually said some vows along the lines of “don’t you ever dare think there is anything past or present that I would put in front of you!” 😍

Sam (being paid $250k for this): Guys! Can you maybe move it along?

That’s not the cross they are looking for, because at that point, clouds miraculously clear outside, allowing moonlight to shine through a window and highlights an area on the church floor.  I mean I like that x marks the spot but I’m not sure about time of day/year and position in the sky etc. to know if this is realistic, like will it still be the exact same spot at 6pm in December as it is midnight in summer?

Jack points it out to them and Dean bends down to open the floorboard.  

Sam: Guys, I can’t hold them forever!

Dean lifts the floorboard which contains a velvet bag. He opens the bag and pulls out a golden snitch.  He hands it to waste of space and asks if it’s a map. Jack suggests it might be a key.   Waste of space reads the enochian passage on the golden snitch (which if he hadn’t been written into this scene, Sam could have done that).  

Golden Snitch: in order to be in the occultum, the occultum must be in you. Me (immediately): swallow it!

There’s a reason Sam’s holding the doors closed as he’d have got that within a second.  The others are just looking around dumbly. 🙄

Back with AU Winchesters and AU Sam, wearing plaid, man bun still in place, is watching “powderpuff princess and friends” channel on the laptop, which seems to be about kittens. 😂   AU Dean appears carrying two beers

Au!Dean: they said lose the man bun, Samuel (love that he goes by Samuel) Me: Wow, AU Dean really wants Sam to let his hair down…for reasons AU Sam: look, hillbilly clothes are bad enough, I have to draw the line somewhere and my hair… is sacred (Jared added this 😂)

AU!Dean rolls his eyes, denied once again.

AU Sam asks what they do now.  AU Dean says, drink beer and sit in front of a computer screen

AU Sam: that’s their lives?  He’s still drinking the beer with the pinkie out. 😂. Chuck would know straight away this wasn’t Sam and Dean. Sam’s face drinking the beer. 😂 He’s high maintenance for sure.  AU Dean is much less fussy and I think would adapt quite well to the new world.

AU!Dean has found our Dean’s bustyasianbeauty.com internet history. 😂  

AU Sam: Can you imagine if dad caught us with that kind of stuff?  Goodbye trust funds.

AU!Sam’s not interested in the ladies and I don’t think he’s happy that AU Dean is either.

AU!Dean: I gotta tell you Sammy, this Sam and Dean, you know, sure they’re simple, but they’ve got this place of their own, there’s no quarterly reports, there’s no investor calls, there’s nothing to do but hunt monsters, drink beer and watch porn. AU!Sam: Yeah AU!Dean: they’ve got it made

Switch to our Sam and he’s really struggling with keeping the hellhounds out, while waste of space and Dean are arguing is another pandering scene (which has already had at least four in the episode). It’s been written solely to please the 1%ers who no doubt will create thousands of tweets from their 200 accounts with “old married couple and their son.” 

These people are incapable of looking at characters and continuity, they don’t care if it’s likely a character will do something just as long as they get content for their ship.  But I care, the majority of the audience care.  The Dean we know and love would just not under any circumstances abandon Sam at the door on his own.  This is where the writing is failing.  If they are incapable of writing a scene that makes sense in the bigger scheme of things, that doesn’t change the standard operating procedure of one of the two leads, then it has no place in the show.  I could have written a scene between waste of space and Dean that would have given the 1%ers more than enough fodder (they get excited over lamps, it wouldn’t be that hard to do), while at the same time, not ruining Dean’s core character or sidelining Sam to be a doorstopper for an entire fucking scene. Besides, all the old married couples I know are old and still married because they never argue, they finish each other sentences and smile fondly at their idiot other half when they do something idiotic, because it’s their idiot.  Kind of like… Sam and Dean.

Jack ignores them as much as I do, he turns away while they are still arguing. When he turns back, Dean looks at him, 

Dean: “Where’s the thing?” Jack: I ate it Dean: You What?! Jack: well, he said it had to be in me… so… Dean (internally) Sammy’s going to fucking kill me. (Externally) No! spit it out! Jack (laughing): it’s fine, nothings happening

Something’s definitely happening as Jack doubles over in pain.  Sam can only watch helplessly from the door as a bright light erupts from within Jack and then he disappears.

Again, that scene would have been infinitely more watchable if waste of space hadn’t been shoved into the space Sam should have been, but no, he’s still holding a fucking door closed.  I shit you not. 😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬🤬😡🤬😡🤬🤬🤬!

Jack wakes up in what we find out is the garden of Eden.  The creepy little girl from Angel approaches him.  “You must not be human, humans may not enter here, are you an angel?”  Jack says it’s complicated but asks why humans can’t be here. She says they were banished, and god hid the garden away from them. Jack says he was told the place might change him somehow.  She responds that it might if he’s the chosen one. He’ll know soon enough.  She leaves him alone.  I’m speculating at this point that Jack isn’t the right person, but Sam is.

We whiplash briefly back to the church.  Yes, my fellow Sam fans, Sam is still a $250k doorstopper while waste of space and Dean continue to argue.  This isn’t good drama for anyone.  Dean is completely ooc in not helping Sam.

Harry Potter Jack meets the garden of Eden snake.  Luckily Jack can understand parcel-tongue as the snake talks to him. Who are you really? Who are you meant to be?

We get various flashbacks, none of which show Sam all that much, and I think that’s deliberate, though badly done.  The one person Jack has never had to question until the malac box was Sam.  I still maintain that Jack knows Sam forgives him and loves him unconditionally, but he knows Dean doesn’t, which is why the focus was on Dean.  The annoyance would have been much less if Sam hadn’t been a doorstopper in place of a significantly lesser character.

Anyway, Jack collapses on the ground and he’s crying by the end of it.  Same Jack, same tbh.

Back at the church, a bright ball of light comes through the cross window and floats down towards the church floor, right in front of Sam before moving to hover between Sam and Dean (again if waste of space hadn’t been there, this would have been a much better scene).

Sam’s thrown away from the doors and lands on the floor. Dean rushes forward to stand in front of his brother… oh wait, no, that’s in my version, the suck-lemons version has Dean actually take a step back, while the hellhounds advance on Sam who is closest to them.  Like he literally doesn’t move a fucking inch, and people are asking why we are unhappy?  Who the fuck was that, because it wasn’t Dean Winchester. 😡

The bright light gets brighter, I think it kills the hellhounds, rather than just repels them.  When the light clears, Sam sees Jack lying on the floor in front of him. He says “Jack” which draws the attention of Dean who shouts “Jack”.  Oh, that gets Dean’s feet moving 🙄.  They watch as Jack sits up and Dean asks him if he’s okay.  Jack doesn’t answer.

Back with Dean and AU!Winchesters.  Dean’s trying to herd them out the bunker, thanking them for their help.  AU!Dean suggests they could all live in the bunker together.

AU!Sam: like a club (AU!Dean points at Sam in agreement).

Our Dean doesn’t share his toys very well and thinks that would just be weird.

AU!Dean (he definitely wants our Sam, with the whole hair down thing he’s got going on): it wouldn’t be so weird

Dean knows what AU!Dean wants and tells them to go to Brazil

AU Dean asks if they can keep the flannel shirts, Dean says no, and tries to hurry them along.

AU Sam and Dean turn to go, but AU!Dean turns back and says that when they were looking around, they saw it

Dean: It? AU!Dean: the car Dean: You didn’t…. touch it AU!Sam: We “drove” in it 😉 Dean: You What?!

Awkward looks all around until AU!Dean says, “And we’re leaving…” smacking AU!Sam on the shoulder and pushing him up the bunker stairs.

AU!sam: oww, my arm, you’re hurting me!” AU!Dean: Sam! AU!Sam: Dean… Dean (angry): Have fun in Rio!

I like the scene so I’m trying not to nitpick the fact the car was with our Sam and Dean and the AU versions couldn’t possibly have found it, much less “drove” in it.

Dean goes to find Sam who is leaning on the wall outside I’m guessing Jack’s room.  He asks if the kid is okay.  Sam says he doesn’t know.  Waste of space comes out and says Jack seems to have recovered but there’s something different about him.  No one’s been to the garden since the exile, until Jack.

They all go in, yes, even waste of space, and it turns out it wasn’t Jack’s room, but the kitchen and I have to seriously question why Sam - who is unquestionably Jack’s main parent - was outside and not with him. *whispers Jared has obviously done something or not done something to bring the petty wrath of Dabb down upon his beautiful head, no other explanation at this point. Roll on Walker and Jared ensuring that show doesn’t get stolen out from under him by a backstabbing co-worker and petty showrunner.

They approach Jack and he says he is so sorry.  He is crying and says it was his fault.

Waste of space says Jack’s soul is back.

Jack looks up at Sam and Dean and asks them to forgive him but the camera focuses in only on Dean.  Pats my fellow Sam fans consolingly on their heartbroken backs.

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 13: Only the Good Die Young

Sources:

Ryu Gwansun

History Channel

Internet Archive

Wikisource

Korea(.)net

Further reading/viewing: Pantheon, Memories of Cell No. 8 (YouTube), A Resistance Trailer (YouTube)

Brittany Murphy

Investigation Discovery

ET Canada (YouTube)

Biography, Brittany Murphy: The Mysterious Circumstances Surrounding Her Untimely Death

Rotten Tomatoes, 11 surprising things you probably didn’t know about ‘Clueless’

Buzzfeed

CNN

Alice Ball

Biography

National Geographic

Oxford Museum of Natural History

ScholarSpace University of Hawaii Manoa

Chemistry World

Click below for a full transcript of the episode!

Alana: So the title of this episode is Only the Good Die Young, right? Haley: Yeah. Alana: And I know it's a song. But that's not even true, because people are complicated, first of all, and all dichotomies are false dichotomies, even that one, because there are some true dichotomies. And goddammit that's a Hank Green quote. Lexi: Yet another episode where the Greens slipped in. Alana: Because I love one man and his brother. [INTRO MUSIC] Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. I'm not quite with Lexi. Lexi, what's the worst part about doing this on Zoom? Lexi: Dang. The worst part about doing this on Zoom is if I wanted to make cocktails and give them to you guys I would have to mail them and then the ice would melt so that would really suck. Alana: Also almost here is Haley. Haley, what's the best part about doing this on Zoom? Haley: Seeing your lovely faces. We spent like three, four years together just seeing each other every single day and that was the worst part about going to grad school was I didn't have you guys. Alana: And I'm Alana and I haven't spent this much time in a closet since 2014. Haley, laughing: Oh, shit. Lexi: That's good I love that. That adds a little light. Alana: A little levity. Oh my god Haley’s losing it. Lexi: A brief warning about the following story. This story includes police brutality and torture. If these subjects are uncomfortable for you, please skip to the next story. Archival Audio: Arirang Lexi: You just heard the song Arirang, an approximately six hundred year old folk song which is on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage List. During the fight for Korean independence, protesters sang the song as a symbol of Korean spirit. We will tell the story of one of those protesters today; Ryu Gwansun, listener suggested by my sorority sister Kate. Shout out to Kate. My sister from George Mason. I love her and she suggested this lady and it was a really good suggestion. Alana: Wait it's– it's another Korean lady. Lexi: Yes. Alana: Which is the language that you studied in school. Lexi: Yes so it all comes back. And I actually had heard of Ryu Gwansun before, so I was excited to dive deeper into that story and share it with other people because every Korean teacher I ever had brought her up at some point. And if you take Korean history in a college setting, one of the days will be about her, inevitably. So every year in Korea, the people celebrate Independence Movement Day on March 1, and Koreans call this day Sam-il, which literally means three one. This annual event commemorates the protests that took place on March 1, 1919, a large resistance of Japan's military rule of the Korean people. For some context, in 1910 Japan annexed Korea without the consent of Korean leadership. Japan's rule in Korea sought to assimilate Koreans to Japanese culture. It would take a whole episode to explain this entire story and how the U. S. is involved in a whole bunch of other things, but for our purposes it is important to understand that this was like overall a really bad time for the Korean people. Korean culture was restricted, Japanese individuals moved into their land, and violent military rule by the Japanese became the norm in the Korean Peninsula. Additionally, Koreans were forcibly removed from the peninsula and taken Japan to work as forced laborers. So, as you can imagine, there was a lot of resistance to the Japanese in early 20th century Korea. One act of resistance was a protest that occurred on March 1, 1919, Sam-il. On that day, thirty three activists gathered in Seoul and read aloud the Korean Declaration of Independence, which begins “We herewith proclaim the independence of Korea and the liberty of the Korean people. This we proclaim to all the nations of the world in witness of human equality. This we proclaim to our descendents so that they may enjoy in perpetuity their inherent right to nationhood.” Obviously that was said Korean, translated to English for our listeners. This moment was just the spark that began a fire of resistance with communities across the peninsula beginning to protest the Japanese occupation. One protester was Gwansun, who had represented this moment in history for generations of Koreans and today serves as the main symbol of the March 1st movement. Gwansun was born in modern day South Korea, but of course at this time Korea was still one unified nation, so that doesn't really matter, but she was born in a province that's now modern South Korea. She was born on November 17, 1902 so happy birthday to her two days ago when this episode airs. Her father was a reform-minded Methodist and an enlightenment thinker. And in 1918, Gwansun was admitted on scholarship to the Ewha Girls’ School. It's a school that still exists today and has a long list of famous graduates. It is not to be confused with Ewha University, which is a prominent women's university in Seoul, but it is in Seoul and it is Ewha’s girls school so I can understand why people mix them up. The school, along with many others in the country, had become a hub for young activists to learn and discuss the Japanese occupation. Together, they dreamed of Korean independence, so it was very much a young people's movement, and they protested actively cheering “long live Korean independence!” Japan, noticing the schools were becoming organizing hubs for young activists, shut them down. So, Gwansun was sent back to her hometown where she continued to rally support for Korean independence among her community. The school closures were catalysts for national unity among the Korean people and ignited a wave of new activism. So everyone was like “they closed our schools, let's all get together and really start to protest.” So Gwansun recruited people to participate in protests with her on March 1, 1919. The protests would take place at the Aunae– I might be saying that one wrong, I couldn’t find in Hangul, only in English so I'm reading the Romanized version not the Hangul which is why I'm pronouncing it really badly– the Aunae Market. And soon Japanese police forces arrived and began to shoot the Korean protesters who were unarmed. And the police killed nineteen people, including both of Gwansun's parents. The police arrested many of the protesters, including sixteen year old Gwansun. In custody, Gwansun was offered a deal; if she pled guilty and outed her fellow activists who organized the event, the Japanese police would lighten her sentence. When Gwansun refused to out her co-conspirators, the Japanese police tortured her. Despite being beaten, she still resisted giving up any information, thus maintaining her role in the fight against Japanese oppression and violence. Many other women who fought for independence were imprisoned with Gwansun at Seodaemun prison. One year later, on March 1, 1920, women in the women's walk of Seodaemun prison began to chant “long live Korean independence.” The chant spread across the prison. One of these young women was Gwansun. I actually got the chance to visit this prison when I was in South Korea in 2018, highly recommend going there it's now a dedicated history museum with exhibit materials in English, Korean, Chinese, Russian, and a couple other languages. And I got to see cell number eight in the women's branch which is where Gwansun was imprisoned, and it's now dedicated in her honor and it’s set up as an exhibit for her. They had really immersive exhibits to explain her story so it was a very moving experience. After the chant, Gwansun was transferred to solitary confinement. Just two days before the end of her sentence on September 28, 1920 at the age of just seventeen, she died in prison from injuries sustained during torture. Never abandoning her beliefs, she continued to advocate in prison, writing in her diary “Japan will fall. Even if my fingernails are torn out, my nose and ears are ripped apart, and my legs and arms are crushed, this physical pain doesn't compare to the pain of losing my nation. My only remorse is not being able to do more than dedicating my life to my country." It would be another twenty five years until Korea gained independence, with Japan being defeated in World War II. Gwansun has been remembered in popular media, including in Korean films and books, and the trailer for one such film that just came out last year will be on our show notes in the tumblr, it's called “Resistance” in English, it looks really cool. I haven't had a chance to watch the whole film yet but I watched all the trailers that are on YouTube because I was just so captivated. The young actress who plays her seems really really talented so I will be watching the whole thing. Join me in watching it at some point, definitely check it out. And Gwansun is seen as a martyr for the Korean independence movement. She is still honored by Korean people to this day. A shrine was erected to her in home city. It's a really cute statue of her holding up a flag and protesting. And many scholars refer to her as Korea's Joan of Arc, but I don’t like when we compare women to each other. I really think Gwansun is Korea’s Gwansun. She is a woman who died far too young, fighting for what she believed in, and we deserve to remember her in that way. Haley: I love your note on not comparing women to women because… Lexi: It bugs the shit out of me. I just… Like, why does she have to be compared to particularly a white woman, white Christian woman. But why does she have to be compared to anyone else? She did something incredible for her people. Maybe Joan of Arc is France’s Ryu Gwansun. Archival Audio: Before you lies the most glamorous city on Earth. Hollywood, California. A city where men and women skyrocket to fame or crash to oblivion.

Haley: I'll be talking about Brittany Murphy, and with this a brief warning of death, poisoning, murder, and eating disorders. I really struggled with picking a lady today because it was either someone who recently died, which I felt very awkward talking about, or a very small child, which I just, again, mental health needed a break. However, I recently watched Clueless and there is a new ID Mystery or Investigation Discovery coming out so drum roll I had to pick Brittany Murphy. And a lot of me in remembering my deep dive of her life when she died in 2009 and she's one of the first celebrities I remember as a– like a death, like they're dying being reported, and me as a young child having that connection being like “I know who that is I've watched her movies, I've seen her, I had a connection. Also I believe it was around the time my grandfather died, so I kinda– it's been very strange. Whenever someone significant in my life has died another celebrity that had a significant impact in my life also dies around then, so that also had an impression on me. So we all know her as Tai Frasier from the 1995 classic Clueless. However, her big break actually came from becoming a regular on the sitcom Drexell's Class at age fourteen, and honestly it was no surprise that she became such a huge star because around age eight she was begging her mom to start acting, and by age twelve her mom was like “you know what, sure. Let's do this thing. We'll see what happens.” And almost immediately she was booked for gigs, and it was like gig after gig. Back to Clueless. As if - heh - I were gonna just not talk about that movie. Brittany’s character Tai is a new student who's described as hopelessly klutzy and who gets pulled under the wing of popular socialite, Cher, and once she gets that classic makeover, her popularity skyrockets. And yes, this is the movie where the main character starts dating her ex stepbrother who's Paul Rudd. Utter classic. I believe it's still on Netflix. Do yourself a favor and watch it. Alana: It’s based on Emma… Haley: Yes, yes. Alana: And at the end of Emma, Emma starts dating her brother-in-law, so… Haley: So along with the movie being absolutely iconic, it's over twenty five years old so we get a lot of like the fun facts or the tidbits being released. And honestly, not many reference Brittany Murphy. I was really surprised by that. A lot of them of course are on like Cher, being the main character, but a lot on like the director, creator and the costume designer. But for Brittany Murphy I was like oh my gosh I just have all these fun facts in my brain that I just remember from her In Memoriam reel but I couldn't find like the evidence to back it up. But my two favorite were the insult that Tai and Cher like were arguing and Tai goes “you’re a virgin who can’t drive.” Alana: Way harsh, Tai. Haley: Chef’s kiss line. Well, Brittany Murphy was actually the virgin who couldn't drive, which I thought was hysterical. And at the time I watched Clueless I was also a virgin who couldn't drive, so I don't realize like why that was an insult like yeah, what? Alana: I still can't drive. Haley: Like do you not have a license or you’re just a bad driver? Because I’m a shitty driver but I have like– Alana: Oh, my license expires in January. Haley: Oh, okay. Also the scene where she gets hit in the head with like a clog in that like house party, it was a little bit of movie magic if you will because they did the scene with like a prop and it just looked really really fake so when they went in post they superimposed a shoe or whatever like hit her, I believe it was a clog, so the movie would look more realistic. And now I really want to rewatch the movie to see if I like they got it just right with the editing. Now doing a one eighty to her death. As I said, Investigation Discovery has a new episode documentary. In the show notes, I’ve linked it, it’s free. It calls it like episode one or something and I believe it's like forty minutes long, so it's something you can do while you're building a bookshelf, cooking dinner, trying to fall asleep; that's how I watched it, please don't read into that. And the episode documentary is not necessarily on her death that she died, but investigating it as not actually an accident from the perspective of her father really spearheading this. So her father, before he died in 2019, was like “I need to investigate this more,” did a bunch of interviews on how he believes that there is a little more to the story about his daughter Brittany Murphy dying at the age of thirty two. And a lot of my notes come from the documentary or commentary from it and I'm doing a warning in addition to my previous trigger warning that there are a lot of nine one one calls and as Investigation Discovery does, it covers the tragic story without holding anything back. So if that might be a little too much, you'll have a snippet here today. A very abbreviated version, if you will. So her official death from like LA county or like the coroner there in 2010 was said to be a combination of iron deficiency, anemia, pneumonia, and a combination of prescription drugs- like heavy doses of cold medication. But originally, the report was written as a heart attack, and I believe that one of the coroners told news outlets that her death appeared natural. I just want to pause and say a thirty two year old should not have like a natural death if it was ruled as a heart attack. And even kind of with the like documentary, I was having a hard time with like which coroner said what. Maybe that was just me watching this after my stressful life just being my stressful life with work and school. I really want to watch it with you guys too. There are also rumors that she had a drug problem and an eating disorder which could have contributed to her death, but when I was reading like some news outlets and it was like the really crappy tabloids it was like “she died of an eating disorder” and like no or like if she didn't have an eating disorder she would've lived. And there was nothing to say that she did or did not have an eating disorder per se, like at that time. I couldn't find any credible sources from 2009/2010 that she did have an eating disorder. All I could find was like “Brittany Murphy is looking really skinny” and that that’s… as a person– I’ll go out and say it– who has struggled with like eating disorders in the past, I will never say this person had an eating disorder, this person didn’t. I could not find Brittany Murphy coming out and saying that she had an eating disorder. This is all speculation. Even if it comes from a doctor, even if it comes from her dad, speculation. I’m not a doctor. Before her death, both Brittany and her husband Simon Monjack believed that they were being watched by the US government, and Brittany was reportedly a witness to Julia Davis, the Homeland Security employee who called out some of the problems within the organization. So that was kind of like a part that I– people are like “oh she could’ve been murdered, taken out by the government.” And I really didn't know where to put this note in, because it was kind of like she was saying it before she died as well, and she was, I think, a little paranoid from this. Also before her death, Simon and her mother were both sick in Puerto Rico. Brittany was filming The Caller, they went along for a vacay and things just turned nasty. You get sick, that's also like just like a common thing… getting sick on vacations. However, she was reportedly fired on like the first day and some kind of like pointed to her husband causing a nuisance on set for being like drunk and such. So things are just like being very weird. Like a lot of first like the government coming in thinking that she was being followed or watched and now being on a film set and her husband causing a huge disturbance. And sometimes still while on this island, like I said Simon and her mother got sick, so much so that on the flight home, Brittany had to give her husband CPR. And someone, I believe it was Simon claimed he was having a mild heart attack. So again we have this heart attack cause of illness coming back. So of course we get to the part where Brittany now gets a little cold, and it isn't just a little cold. She gets laryngitis. Apparently she got her second period in a month, hence the anemia. A lot of list of just the dominoes hitting the fan of she was essentially sick for six weeks, which takes a toll on any body, regardless of if you were healthy before or not. And she even had a doctor's appointment for the Monday after she died and I believe she died like on a Friday night at home. So fast forward a few months to now her husband dies, of like similar causes. And this was also sketchy because not only did he die like in the same room, same bed, his death was also ruled as quote “severe anemia and acute pneumonia.” So now like bells should be ringing off like what the fuck what the fuck, this is just a few months after her. And another weird part was that there was like an alleged scandal that he also had a relationship with her mother. Things are not adding up. Just to like wrap this whole thing up, like her father said in one of his last interviews he just didn't feel right. This didn’t sit well, and he continuously made allegations against other family members, and he just really wanted to get closure on her death. And that's basically where it ends– where it’s we don't know, we just now have all this new information and people like Investigation Discovery documentary episode are just trying to put it together. Alana: That's a heavy one. Archival Audio: From the Middle Ages, down to modern times, the magic of chemistry has fascinated mankind. Alana: So I don't have a content warning for this one aside from like she died when she was young and that's hard to talk about. Alice Augusta Ball was born on July 24, making her a Leo, 1892 in Seattle, Washington. I'm gonna make that my thing that I just note the star signs of my ladies. Both of Alice's parents and her grandfather were photographers, which meant that because of like photographic technology in the late 19th century Alice grew up around the chemicals that were used for developing photographs at the time. In 1902, when Alice was ten, they all moved to Honolulu, hoping that the change in climate might alleviate her grandfather's arthritis and other medical conditions. Alice's grandfather died two years later and the family moved back to Seattle where Alice graduated high school in 1910 with stellar, amazing, incredible, top of her class grades. She earned a degree in pharmaceutical chemistry in just two years and then a degree in chemistry in four years, both from the University of Washington. She went back to Hawaii to get her master's degree in chemistry from the University of Hawaii which was then called College of Hawaii. She was the first woman and the first Black woman to get a master's degree from the university of Hawaii. She graduated in 1915 and then that fall she became head of the chemistry department. Her thesis was about isolating the active ingredients in kava root for medical purposes, and this is why Dr Harry Hollmann, an assistant surgeon at the local hospital, sought her help. At the time, the best treatment for Hansen's disease, A. K. A. leprosy, was a pill or an ointment made from chaulmoogra oil, which was derived from the seeds of a tropical evergreen tree called the chaulmoogra. So isolating these active ingredients in plants would be an excellent skill to have if you were to research further on chaulmoogra oil and cures slash treatments for Hansen's disease. She juggled teaching and research as a twenty something. And the time management skills of this woman, that within a year she had created a water soluble solution of chaulmoogra oil which meant it could be administered directly into the bloodstream and be much more effective. It. Worked. The practice for people who had been diagnosed with Hanson's or leprosy was to group them together and isolate the group. This is where you get the phrase leper colony. One of my sources called this treatment only partially effective, but holy shit! Because of Alice, those people got to go home to their families. So I don't– partially effective? No. I hate you. I don't hate you, thank you for writing something that I could read for free, but come on. Alice died December t31 1916 at the age of twenty four, after a lab accident while she was teaching gave her chlorine poisoning because lab ventilation wasn't required yet. Her work was stolen. And this you'll see when we talk about– when I talk about Rosalind Franklin in January that stolen work of women in STEM is kind of a theme for me. Arthur Dean, the college president who took over her work after she died, but basically all he did was publish it, only mentioned her name once in the publication and started calling it the Dean Method. Luckily, Dr Hollmann was like “um. No ma’am.” and actively started calling it the Ball Method, and that's the name that stuck. And this method was used until the 1940s, so for twenty years, until sulfone drugs came onto the scene, and they work better or something. I… As previously mentioned, I am not a doctor. Just a little bit about her legacy, as of 2000, February 29 is officially Alice Ball day in Hawaii which… February 29? Really? The twenty ninth? A date that doesn't really exist? Come on. The University of Hawaii Manoa also offers the Alice Augusta Ball scholarship for students majoring in chemistry, biochemistry, biology, or microbiology. They also have a little plaque for her on their chaulmoogra tree, which is just small but I think it's cute. But Alice's work basically cured leprosy. And was just like– people weren't contagious and could go back to living with their families and living their lives and just being people. And then this is one of those things like in a general sense that I'm like, how many great, incredible, fantastic, smart, brilliant minds are we stifling due to systematic oppression? because Alice was so amazing and smart and was able to accomplish all of these things as a Black woman and overcame like– every single source that I read was like this was so strange for a woman, for a Black person, for a Black woman to be doing. So like, larger than anything that she personally could have done, which I think if she had survived this poisoning or if there were… if ventilation was a thing in labs, could she have found the vaccine for leprosy? That I don’t know whether or not we have. I can't really tell. They were working on it at one point according to one of my articles, that was in 2018 and it was promising so it might be done by now. But like what are we as a society missing out on by making life so difficult for anyone who isn’t a cisgender straight white man. Like all of these amazing… Lexi: Snaps. Snaps to that. Alana: Thank you. I'm very frustrated by systematic oppression these days. It's like Covid, systematic oppression, how systematic oppression is making Covid worse in places… Lexi: There's gonna be a Black woman in the White House. Alana: There’s gonna be a Black woman in the White House. Lexi: Just to make you feel a little better. Alana: I do feel better about that. Haley: It makes me so happy. Alana: I do like that. And then her husband is the first Jew in the White House. Haley: Really? Alana: Yeah. Haley: I really wish like we could've called him like the First Doug, because I feel like that's awesome. Yeah, the First Doug. Lexi: Second. Second, because it’s a VP’s spouse. It’s the Second. Alana: Yeah, Second Doug. Lexi: A Doug that really went up the ranks. Alana: I think the vibe that is going to end up happening is First Gentleman– Second Gentleman because that’s what they do for governors. Haley: But like I want Second Doug and then like forever it just be Doug. Lexi: Oh, it becomes Doug, even after. Haley: Yeah. Alana: I like that. Lexi: Kinda love it, it's like oh the Doug. Alana: I'm not a fan of Second Dude, I don't care for that I think that's like… Lexi: Yeah I don't like that. We need like a Spouse of President. No like a SOP. Alana: SOP! Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself. Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History. Haley: Next week on Lady History, it's our U. S. Thanksgiving episode, and we’re doing a deep dive into Native slash Indigenous peoples’ history. [OUTRO MUSIC] Haley: Are raccoons like ducks where you can just like pick one up off the street? Lexi: That’s not true for ducks, we talked about this. You can’t steal wild animals.

[polygamyff]

60.

I have woke up to my mobile being so alive, I am so shook. The amount of drama has drained my battery, well I am shook because I am verified. Leon was straight screaming in my messages about it, I mean who would have thought being with a billionaire alone makes you verified, but I am excited as shit. In celebration of my verification I thought I would post a little throwback of Maurice and I when we went to Bey’ home, it’s also Thursday so it’s throwback Thursday. I mean it wasn’t a real old picture but still, I mean I just want to add to the fact I am verified. This picture Bey took of us when we were discussing the clubs, I look like I am listening but honestly I do not know what they are saying, Jay is looking at me talking and I am just staring into thin air. Adding a caption to the picture ‘Photo by @Beyonce: The Carters x The Davenports’ I mean it’s simple and cute and I am flexing, I giggled to myself “you creating all that noise man” Maurice complained at the side of me “please, let me have fun. I am verified! Aye!!” I shouted, Maurice huffed out turning in the bed, I have officially woke him up “I told you Rich would be on it, and look at that” Rich didn’t lie to me, looking over Maurice stretching out “how is the gym coming along?” his skinny ass is something else “why do I need the gym? I am not fat” I snorted laughing “you’re not fat but what about bulking up a little bit?” Maurice frowned at me “that is rude, so you don’t love me for who I am?” Maurice turned his face to me, I grinned at him “I love you; I am joking. I just love to you annoy you, you are literally my dream man. I don’t like those big bulky men anyways, but please celebrate with me, I am verified” Maurice rolled his eyes as he turned onto his side and hugged onto my torso “move your arm up” Maurice said, moving my arm up so he can rest his head on my chest “on my boob though” I spat, resting my arm on his head.

Bey’ fans are crazy and have taken over my Instagram comments “are you ready for today, meeting my dad at Sacramento, I got a jet for us. I said a jet because my sister is still using mine” moving my phone a little away from my face just seeing Maurice rubbing my stomach “my stomach that big? It ain’t that big just yet” he is cute “nah, just you know. Letting Jell-O know I am here” he is stupid “to be honest I am not looking forward to seeing your dad but I am going to have to do this run through but knowing your dad we will like the venue, he likes luxury so it will be just that. I just find it weird how your dad can switch off his feelings and act like he didn’t do what he did and is acting like everything is ok, but I am not tripping. I am going to do this because this bitch needs to get married, I am sick of just fucking around now. This is our time” Maurice has yet to tell his dad who we don’t want there, pressing a kiss to the side of his head “yeah, just you know dad be driving me crazy, he is going to start talking about the family name and I really don’t care about it. I think he will listen to you, it’s like he respects you. He hates my ass I guess; I think he knows that you will take Reign away from him. He kept texting saying about Reign, I am like don’t worry she is coming. I am just nervous, about us getting married. Not in a bad way just like wedding nerves. I want it to be so perfect for us, and also experience marriage properly for the first time” I cooed out “you going to cry when you see me in my dress?” I grinned “I will cry seeing you and Reign, damn. I will be crying that I have to deal with your bougie ass, you bougie but be fronting” I laughed out “lying ass” I mean he isn’t lying but I like to think I am not that at all, I think I am not spoilt.

Leon shrieked out “he is my verified bitch, come here!!” Leon ran at me “I am stank right now” I said but Leon hugged me anyways “girl, seeing you at the event. I was feeling it so much, the dress, the look, the poses. Jacob and I was straight vibing seeing you on CNN too” Leon is such a sweetheart “I always said you was destined to be big” hearing Reign yelp out “sorry baby, I am coming” Leon ran around the couch “what y’all got going on there?” peaking over “we playing dolls, I don’t know what is even happening anymore” I chuckled, “morning mommy” walking into the kitchen “morning Robbie” kissing her cheek “you preparing for a feast?” I asked laughing “well we are going on a trip Robbie, I need to be prepared” my mom is here packing “we are coming back, by tonight we will be back” I chuckled “you never know, so Thomas called” letting out an oh “he said that a lawyer has contacted him about this home” I smirked “he said he doesn’t want things to be so bitter but if you want to play that game we can” pulling a face “you know what, he wants war I will give it him. He is jealous and spiteful, mom don’t worry. He got a lot coming to him-” I stopped midway as the conversation got interrupted “he will be also getting a cease and desist; he is trying to put a story out about me hitting him. Robyn, can you make me food” Maurice came out of nowhere “he is!?” I spat “yes, it’s nothing. Lorraine is dealing with it but make me something. I am hungry” nodding my head, Maurice made his way to the dining table with his Macbook in hand.

Watching Maurice talking to Shawn, he is busy working. I can tell he is on work mode “if you not going to help then girl, get out of the kitchen” my mom nudged me to move, I chuckled “calm down woman” I huffed out “I am just trying to hear what he saying to Shawn” I said in a whisper, let me just stop being a creep and just sit next to him, he won’t mind. Making my way to the dining table, peaking over at Leon and Reign before I did, they are just fine together. Pulling the chair out and sitting down, I wonder what they saying to be honest “yeah well I am busy you know, I really want to punch your face; you got my sister pregnant and you here running around making my sister a single mother? That is not cool, you need to fix yourself, no joke player. I am angry with you but then I know how long we been down, you just so fucked in the mind bro. I just don’t see how we can be cool again, you were supposed to be my best man, now I ain’t even got that. I honestly don’t see how we can just be cool together, how? Look you getting me very aggy, I just need time, and that means you won’t be making the cut for my wedding, let your parents know” he disconnected the call “that is not good” I said to Maurice “you right, it isn’t but I can’t just let him come. Same with Leon” I shushed him “Maurice, can you please not do this. He is my friend” Maurice got up from the chair “where are you going now” Maurice is on something today “I don’t want you to argue, seriously” I don’t want this.

I am cutting niggas left, right and center, I am not fucking with anyone that don’t know how to fuck with me, I am done with the shits. Seeing Mi Amor playing, she is building something with her blocks “girl, that is going to fall” Leon said, Reign held out the block to him “ok, one more” Leon took the block and placed it above, Reign clapped her hands before pushing it all again “girl you bugging, you just enjoy the mess and drama of it falling” clearing my throat, Reign looked at me but Leon didn’t “your daddy is there ain’t he, he is staring at me too” Leon said to Reign, she don’t care one bit she is picking up those blocks again “Maurice, can we be nice” Robyn said “I will respect your mom’ home, but I need to let him know how I don’t fuck with what happened” sitting down on the couch “I did want to speak to you Maurice, I did. I am just you know, a little scared to say anything” Leon got up from the floor “because you know you did wrong, you openly told Robyn you wanted to get at me. What kind of friend is that!?” I spat “a friend to her because you upset Robyn! Robz is my friend, I didn’t mean for that to happen, I would never do that to her. We have been out before, have I ever left you like that!? We were all lit, even before you came around we went out” Leon pointed at Robyn “we did go out, Leon knows how I felt” Robyn said “well know he can know how I feel, I helped you. Those fucking Gucci shit you wearing is because of me, I helped you and you did that to me. I liked you but you just seem like another nigga I can’t fuck with but for Robyn I have too, I don’t even want to see your face. You have really got me angry as shit” Robyn sat next to Leon “I am sorry Maurice, I know you don’t like me. Even when all this shit happened I have never let out a secret about any of you, I have never done you dirty like that at all. I knew my friendship was a mess with Robyn, I didn’t know what to say to her. But I never did any of you wrong by selling stories like everyone else did you, I don’t have much people in my life. Terry is a mother to me, I don’t have much and I will forever be in debt to you and appreciate what you did for me Maurice, I was in a bad way and you helped” Leon’ voice broke “I feel bad and I don’t think you will ever see how bad I feel because you made your mind up about it but I am sorry. It went wrong and it was never that” Reign is stumped right now; she is staring at Leon crying “he made that mistake Maurice” Robyn said.

“Your breakfast is done Maurice” Terry said, getting up from the couch because I can’t be bothered to be hearing the water works, I just don’t fuck with that shit. He fucked with the woman I love, she is just too damn friendly I guess “thank you for this Terry, you be going all out” I chuckled “aww thank you, and I just moved your laptop to the side a little. I hope you don’t mind” waving her off “it’s all good” sitting in the chair “Maurice I am sorry, maybe we won’t be thee same but I am sorry and I do care about you all so much” shuffling my chair in, he is not going to leave it and he’s really not going to leave my life either “shit will take time, that is all I am going to say” shaking my head “that is something Leon, he is hard headed so things take time with him” Robyn said “ok psychic, you know me so well huh” let me just eat my breakfast “I do actually, let’s leave him to eat. Don’t choke now” smiling at Robyn sarcastically “you kids!” Terry sighed out saying.

Staring at my laptop “man” I sighed out saying, it’s like I am applying pressure about this whole Hilton shit that now it’s turned on me, I feel like I have too much on my schedule. Typing out to Ally to skype me, something has to move around. Sitting back on the chair, because this is all new to me because I have added other shit, people want to do business with me which is amazing but one at a time, the skype call came through. Answering the call “ah, we are doing video call now. Oh wait, it’s a team thing. I think I have had enough of you all. Who got biggie on loud? I don’t pay you to have fun now” I laughed, Lorraine eyeballed the camera “listen here, I am in my own damn home! You don’t own my home” she pointed “she was twerking earlier, let’s not start her off” pulling a face “ok, I won’t be a moment, y’all can do whatever y’all like after. I see the schedule and everything, there is a lot of shit on there. So, the whole Hilton thing is yes my idea but what the fuck? Am I touring or some shit?” I am confused “you ain’t touring anything, Maurice. You are the owner of the company now, you have to meet everyone, you need to see your workers. You need to visit. I am sorry but if you want to be not involved with that then you going to look bad, I don’t mean visit every hotel in the world, just the busiest ones in the world, you do a little meeting with them, get to know them, show them you care. I mean the only way around this is split it between you and Nalah” rubbing my chin now even sure “I just don’t think will be able to do every place you telling me, I have a pregnant partner here. I think what I can do, Malik. I will have him with me, teach him. That is an option, also I see London is the place where I make the official announcement for the international takeover for Hilton, that is a day after I will be back in New York. Make it three days out from that because I have something else to do” I have that scan with Robyn “noted, we were just preparing ourselves having to put up with you” Ally said “oh wow, you all are funny. Anyways, I am going to see the wedding. See you all there” disconnecting the skype call, I am actually very busy when it comes to this takeover so I will need Malik to be on his game.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Unexpected

Pairing: Liam x MC (Kendall Mason)

Summary: The Walker/Beaumont wedding doesn’t go as planned.

I’m tired of my faves being held hostage on that God forsaken ranch like they’re trapped in the AHS Murder House, so I wrote this.

Word Count: 2.8K+

The day of the Walker-Beaumont wedding is a very busy one. And no one has been busier than Queen Kendall herself. She’s been up since 5AM, helping the planners get everything together, making sure Savannah was calm and collected, keeping Leona and Barthelemy from killing each other, the works.

The effects of the day are starting to wear on her. Kendall has been up for almost 8 hours straights, running solely on coffee and sheer determination. Yes, she feels exhausted. Sure the coffee is making her dizzy and if she drinks any more, she might pass out, but she can power through, at least until the ceremony is over.

“You need to eat something,” Madeleine says, catching Kendall in a rare moment alone. “Like, at least a bowl of cereal.”

Kendall shakes her head at the idea. “I’m already dressed. I’m not running the risk of getting milk on my dress minutes before the ceremony.”

Madeleine sighs. “You’re on the verge of crashing. At least eat a piece of fruit. Or a granola bar.”

Kendall doesn’t respond to Madeleine. Instead she walks to the kitchen and plucks an apple out of the large fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen counter. She takes a large bite. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Madeleine replies dryly. “God, must you always be so petulant and stubborn?”

“Madeleine, I really don’t have time to listen to you today, especially since you weren’t even invited on this trip, you just weaseled your way in,” Kendall snaps in a rare outburst. “So why don’t you go find your seat? The ceremony starts in a few minutes.”

Madeleine looks taken aback by the harshness in Kendall’s time, but she doesn’t argue with her. She knows that’ll only end in disaster. She just turns on her heel and walks off, mumbling under her breath.

With the blonde woman gone, Kendall breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she needs is her breathing down her neck all day 

She quietly munches on her apple, ignoring the fact that she really doesn’t want to eat it and her stomach is doing somersaults at the taste. Has she gotten used to only eating Cordonian Rubies? Are they the pinnacle of apples? 

“Kendall!” Kendall snaps out of her thoughts and sees Hana. “Come on, the ceremony is about to start!”

Five minutes later, the ladies were in the Walkers’ spacious backyard. A gorgeous archway covered in various flowers is set up under a pair of trees, and Bertrand was standing at the altar, a smiling Maxwell next to him. Liam’s standing in the center of the archway, as he is the officiant.

Kendall’s heart beats double time at the sight of her husband. He looks extra handsome in his royal regalia and she tries to keep her more impure thoughts at bay. A wave of lightheadedness hits, much stronger than the last one, but she manages to brush it off and continues walking. Thankfully no one notices.

Liam smiles back at her as she reaches the end of the aisle. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you. This was a rush job, so my hair and makeup aren’t the best.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re still the most stunning woman here.”

“I married the most charming man on earth,” Kendall muses. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one in this scenario.”

“Hey, your wedding is over!” Olivia hisses with an eye roll. “Save the lovey dovey shit for the current bride and groom.”

Before Kendall can respond, the wedding march starts. Everyone stands up and turns around, spotting Bartie toddling down the aisle, in front of Savannah’s who’s being escorted by Drake. 

They make it halfway down the aisle before Kendall realizes if she doesn’t sit down somewhere and soon, she’s going to be extremely sick. Her heart rate—which she originally chalked up to being a young newlywed excited to see her husband—has yet to return to normal, and the ground underneath her feet is unsteady. Before she can even attempt to excuse herself, she drops onto the ground with a hard thud and everything around her goes black.

~~/~~

When Kendall finally comes to, she’s no longer in the Walker’s backyard, but what looks like a hospital room. It’s not too bright, as the lights have been dimmed, but there is a loud and persistent beeping noise that won’t go away.

“Where am I?” She asks, and god does she instantly regret it. Her throat is so dry, and talking only makes it sore.

Liam, who’s been sitting at her bedside, perks up at her voice. “Kendall? Thank heavens, you’re awake!” He reaches across her bed and presses the small red button, alerting her doctor to come to her room.

“I need water,” she manages to croak out.

“Of course.” Liam grabs the cup of ice water on Kendall’s small bedside table and raises the straw to her lips. She greedily gulps down the water, unaware of how thirsty she truly is. 

“Thank you.”

Liam puts the cup down and runs a hand across Kendall’s cheek. He kisses her forehead. “You gave me quite a fright.”

“What happened? Am I in the hospital?”

“Yes. You collapsed at Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding.”

“What? Oh god, how embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing about it?”

“Collapsing in itself is embarrassing, and I’m sure everyone was gawking at me. And I ruined their wedding. They can’t even continue on without us because you’re the officiant and I’m the maid of honor.”

Liam dismisses the concern with a hand wave. “Nonsense. Bertrand and Savannah will survive. They know they can always find another officiant or they’ll have to wait. You come first.”

Kendall tries to sit up, but she’s exhausted and moving is too much effort. “Did the doctor at least say why I passed out?”

“When we first brought you in, she told me that your blood pressure was low. They drew blood, but those results haven’t come in yet.”

“Don’t tell Madeleine, but she was right, I should’ve eaten something.”

“Yes, you should’ve,” Liam agrees.

“Does the press know I’m here?”

“No. You weren’t wheeled in through the emergency room so no one really saw, and you were checked in under an alias. Any unsuspecting nurses and orderlies think someone named Isabel Martin is occupying this room. Plus, this is a private suite, only your nurse and doctor have access.”

“Okay.” That lessens some of the embarrassment. The last thing she needs is to be plastered on newspapers and on CNN, looking weak on a world stage.

There’s a small knock on the door and in walks a doctor. She smiles nervously upon seeing Kendall. “Hello!”

“Hi, doctor.”

“This is my first time meeting actual royalty. Do I address you as Your Highness? Your Grace? Queen Kendall? Your Majesty?” The doctor drops into an awkward bow. “Do I courtesy to you?”

Kendall shakes her head. “We’re on your turf, and calling me Kendall is just fine.”

“Very well. Hello Kendall, I’m your doctor, Dr. Washington. I’m an attending ER physician here at the hospital.”

“Nice to meet you. Will I be okay?”

“There are a few things I want to go over with you, point by point.” The doctor turns to look at Liam before turning back to Kendall. “With all due respect, is it okay if your husband stays?”

“Of course it is! You may speak freely in front of him.”

“We just have to make sure.” Dr. Washington logs into a computer and pulls up Kendall’s chart. “Your blood pressure was low, that’s probably why you fainted. We gave you some fluids to get you re-hydrated, so you should feel better soon. You need to be very conscious of how much water you drink, especially in a place like this, where it gets very hot. Your blood sugar was also low, so just make sure you’re eating enough throughout the day. I’m sure your schedule can be hectic, but you have to carve out time to eat, with some light snacking between meals.”

Kendall nods, taking in the information. “Will do.”

“And there’s one more thing I think you should be aware of: you’re pregnant.”

If Kendall wasn’t already in bed, she’s almost positive she would have collapsed again. Pregnant? She was actually pregnant? “What? How?”

“I think you guys know how.”

“But I took a test last week and it was negative.”

“Well you’re only about 6 weeks along, so you probably took the EPT too early. We did a blood test, and we can detect levels of hCG that are too low to be found in urine.”

Kendall feels Liam squeezing her hand tightly, but it barely registers. She suddenly remembers the alcohol she indulged in last week.

“Since I thought the test was negative, I haven’t been the most careful person. I had a glass of champagne at my friend’s bachelorette party, and I drank a lot of caffeine.” A tear rolls down her cheek. She’s already a horrible mother and her child isn’t even a fetus yet. “Will the baby be okay?”

Dr. Washington briefly glances at one of the monitors attached to Kendall, and she reaches out to touch the queen’s arm. “First things first, I need you to stay calm. You're not the first mom to be who drank before finding out she was pregnant, and you won’t be the last. Now that you know you’re pregnant, I say stop drinking alcohol immediately, and limit caffeine to one cup of coffee per day. But it’s still so early in the pregnancy, I don’t think one glass of champagne and some coffee will have an effect on the baby’s development.”

“Calm?” Kendall chuckles humorlessly. “My entire country’s future rests on my reproductive organs.”

“That may be the case, but none of that matters if you don’t have a successful pregnancy and delivery, and staying as stress free as possible is key. That’s the goal right?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor, I’ll make sure she takes it easy,” Liam assures.

“Now Kendall, I think you’ll be okay, so I’m prescribing you some R&R. Pregnancy can make your blood sugar and blood pressure drop, because the baby is taking all of your nutrients and making your body work overtime. So I am forcing you to take it easy. Make sure you get something to eat, keep your feet elevated, drink plenty of water, and have your husband wait on you hand and foot for a few days.”

Liam smiles. “I don’t need to be told to do that.”

“And last but not least, congratulations! If you want, I can page one of our attending obstetricians to come down. It’s too early for an ultrasound, but they can go over more things with you if you have any questions.”

Kendall looks at Liam who’s just as eager as she is. She turns back to the doctor with a nod. “Yes. We’d like that very much.”

~~/~~

“Are you guys sure you can’t come back to the ranch tonight?”

Liam can hear the disappointment in Bertrand’s voice. “Yes. Kendall is exhausted, and I think there’s too much going on at the ranch, and her doctor said she needs some quiet and relaxation. If she’s there, she won’t relax.”

“That’s true. What was wrong with her?”

“She just pushed herself too hard. Lack of sleep, stress, the works,” Liam replies, not giving away any detail. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to officiate for you.”

“Don’t apologize, your wife is your priority. Thankfully Bianca’s minister was in attendance and he gladly married us.”

“Congratulations. I hope married life treats you well.”

“I do too. Will we see you guys tomorrow? Bianca is throwing us another get together, a goodbye party of sorts.”

“Yes, we’ll be back tomorrow,” Liam assures Bertrand. “Enjoy your reception tonight.”

“Will do. Take care of Kendall.”

“Absolutely.” Liam hangs up.

While Kendall was still in the hospital, Liam asked Hana to pack them a small overnight bag and bring it to the hospital. Liam decided that Kendall had a bit too much ranch living and thought it would be best if he got a hotel room for the night. That way, there would be no distractions, no noise, and no people bothering them.

He decided on the Ritz Carlton, and when the manager of the hotel realized that a king and their American queen would be staying with them, he gave them the entire top floor to themselves, for maximum privacy.

Liam walks back into their bedroom and finds Kendall sprawled out on the bed, wrapped up in a large white bathrobe. He gets into the bed with her. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she answers honestly. “Like I can sleep for a year.”

“It’s been a long day, you deserve some rest.”

“I still feel bad about missing the wedding though.”

Liam sighs softly. He truly married the best person in the world. She was always looking out for others, even at the expense of herself. She deserve a night to be selfish.

“We can make it up to them tomorrow. They’re having another party before we all leave. And we’ll get them a very nice gift.”

“An amazing gift.”

“An amazing gift,” Liam repeats with a smile. “It’s been such a crazy day, I don’t even think we’ve had time to properly celebrate the good news. You’re pregnant!” 

The words sound like music to Kendall’s ears. “When I took the test and it came back negative, I lost a bit of hope. I thought we’d be a couple who went through years of trying before it finally happened.”

“But we didn’t.” Liam gently tugs on the belt keeping Kendall’s robe secure, letting it fall open. He places a warm palm on her stomach, stroking the skin with affection. They actually had a baby in there. He was going to be a dad. “I am married to the love of my life, the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and you’re giving me a beautiful baby. You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Kendall. You’ve made all of my wildest dreams come true. And I hope we have a girl who looks exactly like you.”

“And she’ll have an accent like you, and speak fluent Greek and Italian.”

“Or maybe she’ll take after you and talk in a New York accent.”

Kendall rolls her eyes. “I don’t have an accent.”

“You do, and I think it’s adorable,” Liam argues.

“Well whatever we have, boy or girl, they’ll be the most loved baby in the world. Hana and Bertrand will fret with them over etiquette, Maxwell will teach them how to dance.”

“Olivia will probably teach them how to conceal weapons on their person.”

“After they turn 18.”

“Of course.”

Kendall reaches out and strokes Liam’s cheek. “Can I make one request?”

Liam catches Kendall’s wrist and kisses it gently. “You can make as many requests as you want, my queen.”

“I don’t want to tell anyone yet, at least until I’m out of the first trimester. And even when we tell people, it’s only our immediate circle. Let's not make an official, public announcement until we absolutely have to. I know we’re the king and queen, and we owe it to our people to keep them abreast on our lives, but I still want us to be a normal newlywed couple. I just want to enjoy this as much as I can, as much as we can.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Liam says after a moment. “Though part of me would love to shout our good news from the highest mountain top, I also want to privately revel in this, with you.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Liam shifts his body and places a kiss on Kendall’s stomach. “Hello there, little one! I don’t know if you have ears yet, but I am going to talk to you anyway. I love so much already, and I’m incredibly honored to be your dad. I can’t wait to watch you grow up and explore. I can’t wait to show you all of the things my father never showed me. You and your mother are the most important things in my life, and I look forward to telling you that every single day.”

A tears slips down Kendall’s cheek and she tries to wipe it away before Liam notices. It doesn’t work. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know. Because I have an amazing, wonderful, beautiful husband whom I love. Because I’m having a baby with him, which is all I wanted to do. Because I’m just so ridiculously, deliriously happy in this moment.” Kendall sees Liam’s own eyes are glistening, unshed tears threatening to spill. “Why are you crying?”

Liam smiles, a smile so wide and bright, Kendall is afraid he might split his face in half. “I’m happy too. Actually, happy doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m euphoric. It almost doesn’t seem real.”

“Well it’s real.”

Liam drops another kiss onto Kendall’s stomach. She can already tell he’s going to do this all day, every day. And honestly, she can’t wait.

“We should order room service,” Liam murmurs against her skin. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Let’s order some food, and whatever looks best on the dessert menu. And then we can order a movie.”

“On one condition.”

“Whatever you want.”

“You have to put on the other fluffy robe.”

“Deal.”

[arabellaflynn]

Text of a test monologue. Would you like to see me deliver this on camera, with no makeup, no lighting equipment, and using Notepad as a TelePrompTer? Head on over to my https://www.patreon.com/ArabellaFlynnPatreon, and for a dollar a month you too can see me waffle on in real time.

Hi, all. You may notice that I am on video now. I was going to shoot a couple of tests and apologize for the poor quality of the footage, and explain that I want to start vlogging and streaming in addition to writing, but I need some equipment to do it properly and for that I need to raise some funds... But fuck it. This is going out first instead.

As I record this, it is the fourth of July. You can probably hear the fireworks outside my window. I know I can. There are a lot of those, because we've all been inside and bored for the past four months. 

I know a lot of people who have opted not to observe the holiday this year. The 4th of July is often viewed as a celebration of the American institution, which is a little bit on fire right now, with a few people determined to squirt lighter fluid all over the flames like a bored suburban dad at a barbecue. On the other hand, it's also Independence Day, and marks the end of the long, painful process by which a population broke free of distant, uncaring overlords who cared mainly about the financial dividends of their colonies, and ignored the grievances of the people until they started breaking shit. So YMMV.

I would comment on some of the details, but I don't know them. The Late Show is on hiatus, and John Oliver doesn't air until tomorrow. I, like a lot of my demographic, get most of my current events from comedians. There's a reason for that.

I actually watched a lot of news as a teenager.

Well, "watched" might be too strong a word. It's easier for me to fall asleep if there's some sort of droning noise in the background. When I was about fifteen, I discovered that, unlike the main CNN channel, which has actual shows and documentaries, CNN Headline News just runs the day's top stories over and over again in an unending 30 minute loop. Interesting enough to keep me from falling into a train of thought that will prevent me from sleeping, boring enough that I don't want to stay up and listen.

I have no memory of the desk anchors. I'm sure they were consummate professionals, but they also had no distinguishing human characteristics whatsoever. I know they were updating the loop live, because occasionally a story would be added to the list and another one would drop off the back, and occasionally one would flub the text on their prompter, but other than that there was no hint that the face at the desk was attached to a living, breathing person.

I do remember a couple of the correspondents. One was Christiane Amanpour. Her voice stood out; CNN is an American news station that was originally restricted to American cable networks, and the vast majority of the staff is from the US. Amanpour is British-Iranian, having split her childhood between Tehran, before the revolution, and London, after. They liked to send her to the bowels of Eastern Europe to report from the war-torn streets of Citygrad in Countrystan. She had already caught some criticism on her reporting of the Bosnian War, for advancing the apparently controversial opinion that genocide was bad. I didn't know that at the time; I just thought she sounded more like she told real stories than read off lists of facts.

Another was Anderson Cooper, who was not nearly such a big deal then as he is now. Cooper, a self-described adrenaline junkie, was a war correspondent at the time, with a habit of ducking only briefly for explosions before standing back up to continue his piece to camera. He wouldn't be infamous until his coverage of Hurricane Katrina years later, both for the overall stellar job he did, and also for that one time he got tired of getting non-answers from some government toad in a live interview and very professionally flipped his shit at the lady, asking if she realized how tone deaf it was to sit there thanking other politicians for doing essentially nothing while there were still bodies in the street.

I quit watching the news when I moved away to college. It wasn't necessarily that knowing was worse than not knowing, but I felt a lot of pressure to be "adult" about it at that point, and watching proper news shows made me anxious to the point where I wouldn't sleep. I outright avoided it to the point where I made it to a canceled class at 4 pm, Mountain Standard Time, on September 11, 2001, before anyone told me what was going on.

I wasn't able to put my finger on why I found the news so horrible until many years later. I can't remember what rabbit hole I'd fallen down, but I ended up sitting on YouTube watching segments of the live news coverage of the 1981 assassination attempt on President Reagan. Reagan was shot in the side and later recovered without complications, but his Press Secretary, James Brady, was struck in the head and sustained considerable neurological damage. Brady, together with his wife Sarah, later went on to be a noted advocate for gun control, but at the time was reported to have died on the scene. 

I wound up watching a lot of one of the news desks -- ABC, I think. It started out like all the others, until the anchor tripped up a couple of times and referred to Press Secretary Brady as "Jim", and I realized: He knows these people. Personally. He's a member of the White House Press Corps, or a friend of the Bradys, or both. I'm watching a journalist reporting on a moment of historical significance to the American people, and a human being who has to tell the entire nation about someone's personal tragedy. His investment did not make him any less professional or informative than any of the others, but it did make his coverage feel very grounded in reality in a way that most news, then and now, does not.

The older I get, the more disquieting I find it to have a talking head behind a shiny desk read me a list of horrible things that have happened today without any apparent reaction. It makes it seem like these things are a randomized representative sample of the cruelty of the universe, rather than what they are, which is a list of things so unusually terrible they made the news. I realize that this is part of an effort to remain impartial so that the viewer can decide how they feel about events, but it's also disturbingly normative. Yes, everything is on fire, everything is always on fire, this is nothing new. 

I can't say I'm any more enamored of the opposite, either, the more recent style where the news anchor's entire job is to tell you that entirety of human existence is awful and here's what you should prioritize being afraid of this week. Everything around you is on fire, the fire is racing right at you, and here's whose fault the fire is.

A lot of Americans, especially younger ones, have taken to getting their news mostly from political satire because-- well, one, because for about the past twenty years, our comedians have been better at fact-checking than our actual newsrooms. You can thank Jon Stewart for getting a bee in his bonnet over that. But also because their coverage of major issues takes neither of those paths. The Daily Show alumni write up stories like they actually live on the planet they're reporting from. You're on fire? They're on fire too! Holy shit, let's all find some water! 

The conceit behind the comedy of The Daily Show and the Colbert Report and Full Frontal and Last Week Tonight and now the monologues on The Late Show is not that this is a normal amount of fire for everything to be on so it's fine, nor establishing that someone has set you on fire on purpose and here's who should be punished for it. It's bewilderment and frustration at the way we somehow keep catching on fire over and over again. Yeah, they crack jokes, because it's their job, but all the jokes are predicated on the idea that this is, above all, just very, very, inexplicably stupid. We can, and we should, be better than this. And the hosts stubbornly refuse to just give up and internalize as immutable all the reasons why we aren't.

You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Jon Stewart has accumulated "fuck you" money from his time on The Daily Show, among other things. I really hope the rest of them are doing the same. Because we need some figureheads who are able to say "fuck you" to a lot of authority figures right now without having to worry about how their family is going to survive the next month. John Oliver has HBO backing and I'm pretty sure Last Week Tonight has roughly equal budgets set aside for handling lawsuits and shoveling money at charity. Stephen Colbert has been insulting Donald Trump as hard as he possibly can since day one, and he just re-upped until 2023. Samantha Bee has her husband holding the camera to shoot her monologues out in the woods. 

They've all figured out how to produce their show over the internet, so at least we have something to watch in the After Times.

I really hope the neighbors run out of fireworks soon. Aside from not wanting the neighborhood to be literally on fire at any point, one of my housemates has a dog, and the dog has epilepsy, so this has been an interesting evening. Sorry about the fireworks, sorry about the camera, sorry about the country, sorry about the state of the world. Imma go find my Xanax. G'night.

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[gretchensinister]

Burgess Wilderness Recreation Area 23/?

And so continues the story I began for the Black as Pitch Halloween event. It’s the kind of story I’m sure you know well. Five college kids, a cabin, and a state park that just doesn’t get many visitors any more… (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20) (Part 21) (Part 22)

We approach a resolution...(here’s a nice long chapter for the middle of the workweek)

Once they were outside, Katherine was actually the first to speak. “Brick, did you want me and Luc to find all of that stuff about the park’s history? You said something about cleaning out the boxes when I was here yesterday. Did that have any sort of meaning? And you’d better give a straight answer.”

“Finding that information was something I left up to you,” Brick said. “I knew it was a possibility and I did not hinder it. But I didn’t think you would be so enthusiastic, true. Anything set you off, or are you simply an extraordinarily efficient person?”

“It looked like the camping records were missing,” Katherine said. “And the radios. Being on call like that is weird for this kind of job.”

“Ah, yes, those irregularities,” said Brick. “I had a choice between hiding real records and manufacturing false ones.” Brick shrugged. “I figured that putting the real ones away would be a little less fishy than having someone find that there were fake records around. Anyone can lose a few papers.”

“Well, cool,” Katherine said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“The radios don’t work,” Tooth said. “We tried. They…the one we opened was full of vines. My friend Bunny…he said that the plants inside the case were an endangered species. That they shouldn’t have been growing there.”

“Mm. I can’t say I’m surprised,” Brick said.

Tooth whirled at him. “Well, we were pretty freaking surprised,” she said. “What the fuck is the point of those radios, then? Why—why?”

“Because maybe they would have worked,” Brick said, infuriatingly calm.

“Oh, what a load of crap,” Tooth said. “You know what, fuck you. You knew we were going to die. If you know what’s in the park you should never let anyone in.”

“I am well aware of what is within the boundaries of the park,” Brick said. “And it is because of my knowledge that I willingly bear the burden of the actions I take to keep this town safe.”

“That’s bullshit and I’m not going to listen to it!” Tooth rushed in front of Brick, planted her feet, folded her arms, and stared right at Brick. She didn’t step back, even when he got very close. “You may think you can get away with that creepy ‘I’m protecting my town’ shtick, but you think I’m going to be scared of that after what I saw in the woods? No! This fucking town is what it is, but you’re still only thirty minutes away from a damn Starbucks. You’re not so far out in the middle of nowhere that no one can ever ask questions about what’s going on here. I mean, if you don’t have a perfect explanation for Bunny’s parents? This is not going to go away, even if you fucking kill me to keep things quiet. So, if you don’t want to do that, sir, you’d better give a hell of a good explanation for why I should stick with my story about mysterious attackers.”

“To go back on your story now means that you lied to the police,” Brick said, nonplussed.

“I don’t care,” Tooth said. “I have a good reason why I said what I did. And those cops today didn’t exactly seem like the type to go after me like a pit bull, you know. Since Burgess isn’t a hotbed of crime, I think your cops are a little more human than most.”

“And how far are you willing to test that?” Brick asked, raising his chin.

“As far as it takes,” Tooth said stubbornly.

“Doesn’t it give you pause for concern that no one will believe you?”

“I’m not trying to get on CNN,” Tooth said. “But I know there’s a monster in the woods. If I tell the truth, enough people will try and test it that there’ll be evidence, sooner or later.”

“Ah, but while investigating, some of these believers might well die,” Brick said, a smile playing on his lips. “What was that you were saying about responsibility?”

“It wouldn’t be my responsibility because all of them would know what they were getting into,” Tooth hissed. “Look here, Brick. I don’t want to attract attention to this all that much. But I don’t want you to yank my chain, and I don’t want to go on with this talk with you thinking you can fall back on the ‘small-town-full-of-secrets’ shit.”

“I’m with her,” Luc said. “I don’t have any loyalty to Burgess, and I don’t have any loyalty to you in the face of several people dying.”

“And you know what?” Katherine said. “I’m with them, too. This is a cushy job for me, Brick, but that’s not enough, not now.” And Luc would probably look down on her if she said anything else at this point. But Brick didn’t need to know that factor in her decision.

“I could get you blacklisted from this type of cushy job,” Brick said mildly.

“No,” Luc said. “No, I don’t believe you could. I don’t think you have any more power than any other small-town parks department head. I wouldn’t play poker against you, but I think you’re bluffing now. Your only ace was the knowledge of the thing in the woods, and we know you have that one now.”

“Please, Brick,” Tooth said, “just stop treating this like some sort of game. It’s horrible, and you’re the only one amused by it.”

Brick looked around at the three of them and sighed. “Do you really think I would have you killed?” he asked Tooth.

“I don’t know you. I don’t know what to think. All I know is that I’m not afraid of you at all.”

Brick took a step back and sighed again. “All right. I’ll tell you what it might benefit us all to know. But there was no call for you to speak to me as you did.”

“People died because of you,” Tooth said. “My friends died because of you. There’s no getting around that.”

“And if your friends hadn’t died, someone else’s friends would have,” Brick said. “That man who was killed before you got here—he doubtless had friends, too. And I had nothing to do with that, though I know the monster did. Or do you blame me for that? I can’t predict every action of the monster, you know.”

Tooth frowned, but she started to walk along with Brick again. “I don’t blame you for that death,” she said. “I don’t expect you to be able to control the monster.” Her expression didn’t clear. “Have you tried killing it?”

“I control the monster as much as I dare,” Brick said. “You know when I came to the park. It was right after the girl disappeared.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I had studied the evidence and reached the conclusion that there was something in the woods. This was not a conclusion anyone else had made. The many deaths that had occurred in the park since such things were first recorded gave me a great deal of worry when I thought of the deaths that might occur in the future, if no one was willing to face the reality of the monster. So when I became head of Burgess parks, my goal was to establish a system that would reduce the total deaths associated with the park. That is why I never fought the decline in the park’s popularity; that is why I do not advertise the existence of this park. And the deaths did decrease. I did that.”

“You do advertise the park, though,” Tooth said. “We wouldn’t have known about the park or the cabins if Bunny hadn’t seen an advertisement, or, well, I don’t know how he found out about this park, but it was probably listed, with prices, on some kind of park comparison website. I know he wouldn’t have dug around in print to find us a place to stay. There’s no time for that, not with his schedule. So you do advertise for the park, and you’ve done so recently. You’ve made a decision recently that led to my friends’ deaths.” Tooth sighed. “This is all just going to be more self-serving bullshit, isn’t it?”

“Again, there is no call to speak like that,” Brick said. “I wasn’t finished with what I had to say.

“When I realized what was in the park and that no one would believe me, I decided that the best course of action was the path of managing its containment. It hadn’t left its territory yet, I assume because there was a sufficient amount of prey within the boundaries of the park. The test would be to see what happened when the prey went away. What I found was that the monster would seek human prey as close to the boundaries of its territory as it could find. This is not so different from the methods of other hunters. The animal will expand its territory if no sufficient prey is found within it.

“I did not want the monster to expand its territory, as the next location where it might find sufficient prey would be Burgess. So, I decided to do what I had to in order to prevent that from happening. I would note when the monster killed someone outside the park. And then I would make a small advertisement for our cabins—which, Miss Khan, you’ll notice were kept in excellent condition.”

“It’s the little things,” Tooth said bitterly.

“It would not be better if they were kept in poor condition,” Brick said. “I make the advertisement, and I book one group of campers. They come, and then the town of Burgess is safe for years afterward.”

“You didn’t say that the reason Burgess is safe is because the monster killed the campers,” Tooth said.

“I do not relish that aspect of my protection,” Brick said.

“Well, it’s still a part of it,” Tooth said.

“And I don’t think you actually reduced the deaths,” said Katherine. “In all those articles, in all those records, checking the obituaries—before you started your—your system, there was about one death per year. After, I’m pretty sure it still works out to about one death per year, except that they all came in clusters, and they were all people from far away. I bet you didn’t go to any of the funerals of the campers. They were far away. You could ignore them.”

This, finally, did seem to discomfort Brick, but not for long. “Then I still have protected Burgess, which was ultimately my goal.”

“I hate you,” Tooth said.

“I understand that,” Brick said. “I cannot do anything about it. But I know more about this situation than you. Do you want to stay here forever? I don’t think you do. I can tell you how to start moving yourself back into normal life.”

“Say what you need to say, then,” Tooth said. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Your explanation sucks.”

Brick nodded. “I think a shortening of this conversation would be beneficial. What you will do is go to the Cardinal Rest Inn. I will pay for you to get a room. I recommend that you call your parents there. Your parents—how far away are they?”

“From here?” Tooth said. “About seven hours by car.”

“Well, the nearest airport to Burgess is about forty minutes away. They might fly out in this situation, might they not?”

“Why don’t you let me deal with all of that?” Tooth asked, her voice cold.

“Oh, very well,” said Brick. “But know that there will be no charge for you or your family so long as you need to be here.”

Tooth didn’t reply, and Katherine and Luc grimaced at each other.

“As for our law enforcement officers and the more plausible, that is, monster-less explanation, I will be having a word with them this afternoon and, as an expert, I will accompany them on their investigation of the park tomorrow.”

“I thought you said no one believed there was a monster in the woods but you,” Luc interrupted.

“Oh, that is true, very true,” Brick said. “But officer Hodgin, the older fellow, and I have worked with each other in a few similar situations. He may never admit that there is a monster in the woods in the way we understand that to be true, but he knows all the same that there is something uncanny in the park that it doesn’t do to look at too closely. You’re right, Miss Khan, that we haven’t had to concern ourselves with survivors before, so all the deaths could be attributed to spectacular bad luck, and the conditions of the bodies, to the depredations of animals. Your plausible story requires a more thorough investigation than has been called for in previous incidents, but I do not think this will present an unsolvable problem. There are signs of struggle where your friends were taken, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Tooth said sullenly.

“It will be enough to allow the police to take appropriate photos,” Brick said. “It is important for everyone to see that we are performing our due diligence. But I well know that despite the popularity of the police procedural drama, most of the public is not well-versed in the nature of an actual crime scene investigation. There will be no leads in this investigation, naturally, and while it may causes a certain amount of nervousness in this immediate area, when no gang of murderers attacks anyone else, that will fade.”

“What about the newspapers?” Katherine asked.

“Oh, we’ve only got the Burgess Bugle to worry about,” Brick said. “But the editor has seen this kind of thing before, you understand. He knows how to let this kind of story peter out. Sensational news only becomes so if it’s sensationally written. And this need not be.”

“So there’s no chance of some larger news organization picking this up? They picked up the story of that girl, Sarah.”

“And if you’ll recall, that was just before my time. We aren’t watched by any of the big boys,” Brick said with some satisfaction. “If we wanted national media attention, we’d have to go looking for it pretty hard.”

“Bunny’s parents…they’d do that,” Tooth said. “They’ve always…that is, they, they’re the kind of people who expect the world to work a certain way, and that includes the cops doing literally everything possible to solve their son’s murder, no matter how long it takes.”

“And are they also the kind of people who could easily believe that a small town police force could be incompetent enough to quickly lose any trail?”

“Yes, exactly,” Tooth said. “They’ll get bigger news, the FBI…”

“And nothing will come of it because no one knows to look for a monster. Or, well, I can imagine one consequence—the tourist revenues of places like Twin Lakes will be down. Hard for them. And that’ll be on you.”

“Fuck no, it won’t,” Tooth said. “If it’s not on you, it’s on the monster. And hell if I know why I’ve been focusing on Bunny’s parents. I mean, it’s not like Nick, or Jackie’s, or Sandy’s parents are going to not care. If they come out here, are you going to comp them hotel rooms, too?”

“If it comes to that, I will make a decision then,” Brick said. “But your part in all this will be over. You experienced something traumatic. You won’t be expected to do anything. All you will need to do is turn to your family and try to forget.”

“Forget? Forget? I’m not going to forget any of this,” Tooth said. “And you’re not going to be able to forget it, either. Four people can’t just disappear with no consequences! Not with how connected everything is these days! Not four—four white people, even if the only witness is a brown girl!”

“If these were real murders, perhaps you would be right,” Brick said. “But no matter how pretty your friend Jackie looks in a picture on the twenty-four hour news, it’s not going to make a difference. The monster is still there, and the monster will continue to be there. I know it’s hard to believe, but it is possible for people to vanish into the woods, even today.” Brick stopped walking and turned to the street. They were next to a neat, tidy square, the tiny-leafed plants surrounded by new mulch.

It would be a very nice place to walk through when summer came, Tooth thought. Too bad it was in this town. How much did the other locals suspect? Tooth thought that the younger generation, the ones that had been too young to remember the last set of missing campers, or at least young enough not to notice, probably wouldn’t suspect anything. What was all that suspicious about an unpopular nature park? Nothing. And even the people that had been around for one set of missing campers, well, one weird tragedy was one weird tragedy. They wouldn’t necessarily think it showed a pattern because one incident didn’t make a pattern.

Only the people that were old enough to have noticed two or more events would be able to spot a pattern of any sort, but why would they? Everyone was busy with their own lives, so they wouldn’t have had a reason to focus on the park. They had their own tragedies. Tooth sighed and turned away from the square and slightly back toward Brick.

“Are we done?” she asked.

“Nearly,” Brick said. “I expect that you might want to know a little bit about the monster in the woods.”

“I don’t know if I do,” Tooth said. “But if it’s the last thing you have to say, get on with it.”

“Hmm,” Brick said. “Well, as I said, even today, it’s possible for people to disappear into the woods. And even though it might not seem like we were at all connected back in the seventies, it was just as astonishing to us, then, that someone like Sarah could disappear so completely.”

“But you knew,” Katherine said. “You knew that she hadn’t really disappeared. The monster killed her.”

“That is what I first thought,” Brick said. “But I soon came to believe that I had been very wrong.

“I was part of one of the earliest search parties for Sarah. We found nothing, and nothing, and more nothing. I didn’t think we were going to find anything, after the first couple days. There’s just a feeling you get, for these things, and I wasn’t getting the feeling that we were going to find her. But, when I talk about a feeling, there was a feeling when looking for her that I’ve never felt before or since. I felt always that the forest was watching. And it wasn’t…it wasn’t like when I had been in the woods before. That’s what I want you to understand. The park has always felt like there’s a monster in it because the monster has always been there. But after Sarah disappeared, something was different. I thought that perhaps the monster was stalking me in particular, but if it had been, I wouldn’t be speaking to you today. So, I was stumped. Stumped and nervous. There’s no telling what a forest like that can throw at someone, and I knew if I didn’t have anything solid to say to my team, there was no point in saying anything at all.

“As it happened, I got separated from my group for a few minutes—only a few minutes, and they were within shouting distance the whole time—or at least, I think they were. At the time, I wasn’t especially aware of anything other than…than her.” The others looked at each other, but Brick paid them no attention, and this time it didn’t feel like an act.

“She was almost impossible to see, but absolutely impossible to miss,” Brick said. “She was tall, tall as a tree, it seemed, and while I now think that some of that was an illusion, I do not think that all of it was. Her hair became branches, her skin bark. She walked like a forest creature, and she belonged in the forest, of that there was no doubt. Animals scurried away from me, but they came back in her presence. She brought the birds, too. She wasn’t human—no, not at all—but when she turned and looked at me, her face was…familiar. I had looked at it countless times over the past few days. Her face was the face of the girl we had been tasked to find! To say I was stunned—no, that would be too mild a word. I was in awe. I experienced a kind of holy terror. It was the most incredible experience of my life, but it was also clear to me that there was no way that Sarah would be returning to the world of middle school and bikes and family vacations. She had become something else, and that other thing…it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

“Maybe that’s why I’m determined to keep the park safe,” he said. “I may hate the monster, but I want to protect her. For it seems to me…it seems to me that whatever the monster is, it saw her beauty, too, and it transformed her in some way, made her a being beyond humanity. A being it could truly be companionate with.” He sighed. “Ah, there’s so much horror and beauty both in those woods.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “Of course, what that means practically is that there are two of them out there. That’s not a wise thing to ignore, especially as I have reason to believe that she is the one who dislikes, hmm…unnatural things. What a wedding present for her, don’t you think? The power to stop, once and for all, all the things that would hurt her beloved forest. The power to stop machines, to kill any plants and animals that shouldn’t be there, to nourish what should be. As a conservationist, well…I don’t really want to jeopardize that.”

“So this is like…some kind of eco-terrorism,” Tooth said. “Well. That’s still no excuse for letting innocent people walk into the park to be killed.”

“What would you have me do?” Brick asked. “Advertise like this? If you beat your wife and children, come on out to Burgess for a free camping trip!” He shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t do. I can’t be the one to decide what’s worth death or not.”

“You’ve decided that coming to this park is worth death,” Tooth said.

“It is all in the luck or un-luck of the draw,” Brick said. “I’m sure there are people out there who missed a year that I needed to advertise and went somewhere else instead. And there, they may have gotten lost, and died of exposure. There, they may have perished due to a previously unknown bee sting allergy. Or, to choose a less-rare circumstance, maybe they got in a car crash and died on the way there. Cars have killed far more than the monsters of Burgess Wilderness Recreation Area.”

“You know what…there’s still a difference, but if you’re not going to see it by now…oh, fuck it. I don’t want to have this argument anymore. You said what you had to say, and I heard it all. I want to go somewhere I can call my parents.”

“Luckily enough, that’s just where we ended up,” said Brick. He gestured to a handsome brick building along one side of the square. “There’s the inn. If you’ll tolerate me for a few more steps, I’ll be glad to get your room arranged.”

 ***

 Brick had strolled away immediately after getting Tooth her room, without any apparent care as to what Katherine or Luc was going to do next.

Tooth invited them up to her room because she still wanted to talk about a few things, and, well, when Luc and Katherine were with her, she wouldn’t have to feel just how horribly alone she now was. But first, one more necessity.

“I know this is weird, after I asked you up here,” Tooth said, “but would you be willing to just, like, hang around for a little while as I call my parents?”

“Of course,” Katherine said, and Luc nodded. “I can…I can hardly imagine what you must be going through right now. I wouldn’t want to be alone now, either.”

“Thanks,” Tooth said. She wiped her eyes. “Really, thanks. I wish…I wish this wasn’t how we met. But how would we have? You’re good people, that’s what I want to say.”

“Take what time you need,” Katherine said. “I’m glad…I’m glad there’s something I can do right now.”

“We can turn on the TV to give you a little privacy,” Luc said.

Tooth nodded, then sighed and turned to her phone.

 ***

 The cooking competition that she and Luc had settled on was failing to hold Katherine’s attention. How was she supposed to care what anyone was doing with pickled jicama at a time like this? There were too many other important questions, most of them unanswerable on her own, and some of them probably just unanswerable in general. They all came back to one big one, though: What was she going to do? Could she continue her job as she had planned before she knew about the monster and how Brick handled its presence? And if she could, would she? What did Luc plan to do? If he left, what would Katherine say to his replacement? And that was assuming she stayed.

From the other bed, Tooth sobbed into the phone.

Katherine frowned and stared at the TV. She couldn’t stay, could she? Absolutely not, not when the situation in the park resulted in the aftermath that it did. Or maybe…maybe she could stay just until the monster killed someone outside the park again and Brick wanted her to make a new camping reservation. It had killed four people this time, so she had maybe four years here before she had to move on. That was a pretty good chunk of time. That was the kind of chunk of time that looked good on a resume. It was the kind of thing that helped someone find other resume-type jobs, rather than the weird and forgotten work she’d gone here and there doing for her entire adult life.

Anger sparked within her at that thought. People weren’t supposed to have to make decisions like that. However, the spark soon died away, overwhelmed by a flood of yet more questions. What did they really know about the monster? Or monsters? Was there any possible safe way to learn more about them? Should that even be a goal? Or should they just learn enough about the monster to kill it, assuming that anything could be learned at all?

What did it mean for all life that such a monster could exist? What was the difference between these monsters and a highly endangered species that was also dangerous to humans? Well, there was a clear answer to that. All endangered species could, obviously, die. All endangered species needed a population of individuals to continue living. The original monster failed both these tests. It seemed to have lived for centuries on its own. But seemed was the key word there. They didn’t even know what the original monster looked like, apart from Tooth, and she clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Could an animal that fit into the tree of life cause that kind of reaction? Katherine had seen videos of a basket star, and also the life cycle of a Surinam toad, but…no, Tooth had said they’d first thought it was a person. That something humanoid could cause that kind of reaction…there was no way to avoid it. The monster was, indeed, something other.

And that was a freaky thought, because, well, even something like a platypus wasn’t totally alone in its category. Brick had told them about how the monster had made itself not alone. So it wouldn’t be wise to say that Burgess was definitely the only place with a monster.

She shied away from that thought toward any other refuge, and discovered that on the cooking show they were no longer working with pickled jicama but had moved on to candied redbud flowers. She also couldn’t help but hear that Tooth’s sobbing had subsided, and that now she was discussing things like flight times and car rentals.

Katherine offered silent thanks that Tooth was almost done with her phone call, and worked on devoting her whole attention to the possible uses of candied redbud.

 ***

 “Well, that’s that,” Tooth said, flopping back on the bed.

Immediately, Luc turned off the TV and sat up, which proved to Katherine that he hadn’t really been invested in the uses of jicama or redbud either.

“So,” Katherine said. “Now we have as much time to talk as you want.”

Tooth pushed herself upright and took a deep breath. “Well, good. Yeah, that’s good, it’s good. So…that was kind of fucked up, the way that Brick was talking about that, the way Brick talked about the girl that went missing, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Katherine said. “And I’m glad you brought it up. I mean, I don’t know what else to say about it, but that was an extra level of messed up.”

“I think he really did see that…being…though,” Tooth said. “I don’t know about his theory, but…the basic facts of the story? Yeah. There’s just…I don’t know. It was different from anything he’d said before.”

“Pretty gross that he assumed the monster had taken her to be his mate,” Katherine said. “I mean, who knows what a monster is doing when it’s not eating people?”

“Well, based on the one conversation that we had today, I’d guess that if we’d said something like that, he’d start saying things about ‘biological realities’ and all that kind of bullshit.” Tooth traced her fingernail along the pattern of the quilt on the bed. It had four large squares on it showing a tree throughout all four seasons. It was nice. Maybe custom made for this place? It felt like a real quilt someone would want to use, not horrible like some hotel bedspreads. She sniffled and blew her nose on one of the room’s tissues. Those were as scratchy as any she’d ever used before, so at least that seemed normal. Like nothing else.

“I don’t think you’re wrong,” Katherine said. “Man. I really…I didn’t like finding out what Brick had to say about what happened.”

“What gets me is the confidence he had in us,” Luc said. “he doesn’t think we’re anything to worry about, even after telling us everything.”

“Well, he was very logical about that,” Tooth said. “There’s not much good we can do. Not when we’re on our own.”

“Containment,” Luc said musingly. “Maybe if it would be too dangerous to try to figure out how to kill it, but maybe something could be built to contain it successfully.”

“I don’t know if it would be a good idea to do that, either,” Tooth said. “Did I tell you it broke a window using a branch? It’s smarter than any kind of animal.”

“I…oh,” Luc said. “That’s pretty bad.”

“I wouldn’t put a lot of money on keeping it in if wanted to hunt the people outside. And that’s assuming something could even be constructed in the first place, without it, you know…just walking out of the perimeter and leaving.”

“And without the one that used to be Sarah killing everyone,” Katherine said.

“And anyway, as three people who don’t have a lot of money, building something to contain a monster—a structure—is even more impossible than warning others about the monster being there in the first place,” Tooth said.

Katherine bit her lip and took a deep breath. “Maybe…maybe Brick was right about the monster being impossible to kill or contain in a way other than it already is.”

“But it still seems wrong to let everything go on as it has,” Tooth said.

“Yes, yes,” Katherine said. “I’m not saying that nothing should change. But maybe…our approach should be the opposite of what his has been.”

“What do you mean?” Luc asked.

“I mean that—okay. So right now when Brick accepts a reservation, he’s also accepting that those particular people will die, and that they’ll die for a reason they don’t understand,” she said. “That’s how it works when he only accepts the one reservation. But if he didn’t do that…if we didn’t do that, then the situation would be much more like the random car accident Brick claimed it was.”

“You skipped a step,” Luc said. “If we did what instead of made reservations like Brick?”

Katherine looked down at the carpet. Pine green. It seemed too nice to walk on with shoes. “I mean…if we made the park popular again. If lots of people stayed here, then all of them would share just a little of the chance that the monster would kill them. I know that sounds bad, and maybe a dangerous guess to make, but really…it’s always averaged out to one death per year. If we do nothing, if we do something…that may just be a constant of the monster. And if I’m one of the people who has to make a decision about who has to die, I’d rather…I’d rather not be so sure that the one group of people I actually let into the park were definitely going to die. I’d like to not…to not sign up people to be sacrificed that didn’t know what they were signing up for. So the alternative is…advertising the park and making it popular again. If lots of people go to the park, and only one dies per year, then…I feel like it would be more like a random accident, rather than a sacrifice.” She looked down at the floor, her shoulders slumped. “That sounds bad, I know…but I do still think it’s better than what Brick’s been doing.” But maybe her ethics were wrong, and it was obvious to the others. She couldn’t make herself look up at Luc or Tooth to find out as the silence began to stretch on.

“It is better than what Brick’s doing,” Luc said finally. “And it also might be something we could actually do. I mean…the other option is to just leave, but…I do think we have some responsibility, now that we know. There’s no guarantee that anyone who came to work here after us would be as curious as we were, or be willing to come to the conclusions that we were. So I think we have to do something. And making the park more popular may very well be that thing.”

“You know, that may be able to help with capturing or killing the monster, too, eventually,” Tooth said. “Look. We don’t know what to do about the monster, and Brick didn’t, either. But maybe in a group of a whole lot of people, rather than just three, someone would be able to come up with a solution that actually works.”

“That makes sense,” Luc said. He stood up and went to stand by the window, looking out over the square. “I feel kind of sick, admitting to this, but I don’t really want to leave this park and the monster in it, not just out of a sense of responsibility, but because I want to be the one involved in this weird, exciting thing, not someone else. So I’m glad we have at least some of a plan regarding what we’re going to do about what Brick’s been doing, and the monster itself, too.”

Katherine sighed, and leaned back on the bed. “It is kind of exciting, isn’t it? We’re different. We’re special. We’re the ones who are going to figure out what to do about a real monster.”

“It’s probably going to become more horrible than exciting soon enough, if you work to make the park more popular,” Tooth said. “Just next year, someone will die. And the more time you spend in the park, the more likely it is that you’ll see the monster. That’s…I know just seeing the monster may not seem like a big deal, but I really…if you’d have seen it, you’d understand.”

“That’s a risk we’ll just have to take,” Katherine said. “We can’t do anything else. Or, we could, but we can’t do anything better.”

Tooth folded her arms and went over to join Luc at the window. “I’m not really happy about that, but…well…I guess I wouldn’t really be happy about anything other than this not having happened. I’ll…I’ll give you my phone number. My email. You can text me or email me if you need help.”

“Okay, that’ll be good,” Katherine said.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

“So, after making a plan, are we supposed to feel resolved?” Luc asked. “Because I don’t. I just feel…beat.”

“I think it’s because we haven’t reached an endpoint at all,” Katherine said. “We’re at a beginning. And there’s no guarantee that anything we do will have any effect at all.”

“So…that’s kind of like the rest of life, isn’t it?” Luc said.

Katherine gave a small laugh. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess here we have more of a chance to do something that will make a difference than we would in most cases. There’s only a few antagonists here.”

“That’s the spirit,” Luc said. “And, you know…even if this is pretty messed up, I’m glad that as we looked through this stuff, I was with someone who was able to see the possibility of a monster in the woods.”

“Same here,” Katherine said with a grin. She turned to Tooth, a little guilty for flirting at a time like this, but still full of a warm glow at the thought that she’d be working with Luc for some time to come. “Do you want…do you want us to leave you alone now? Or do you want us to stay?”

“I don’t know,” Tooth said. “My mom is going to get here early tomorrow. I can be by myself till then. But I…” She made a face. “I don’t want to inconvenience you, I mean, I just met you.”

“Under very unusual circumstances,” Katherine said.

“This isn’t a normal day,” Luc said. “I think we’d all feel better if we got something to eat. It’ll help remind us that we’re alive.”

“Whether we like it or not,” Tooth said. “Okay. Yeah. All right.” She tore her gaze away from the window and joined Katherine where she was heading towards the door.

They left without saying anything more—perhaps conversation could resume once they were sharing a meal together, and perhaps that conversation might even be about something other than the monster, and maybe even something other than the terrible events of the past day. But for now, silence felt necessary. They had chosen a new path for the park—a more dangerous path, for them, and for the visitors who would come to the park in time. They had to face off against Brick’s experience, and tell him that things were going to change. They had to take responsibility for something that most people wouldn’t want to hear about or know about, something that, if acknowledged, would change everything. None of them felt ready to do that, but neither were they ready to let the Burgess Wilderness Recreation Area continue in the darkness of secrecy as it had. It was time to bring the monster into the light.

[geminimoonbeamx]

Sweet Tooth: Part Six

A/N: Wow writing this story has me real life falling in love with this dude. Send halp you guys.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Cursing, Lance Tucker being Lance Tucker. Male masturbation, Sexual situations(but it’s still pretty SFW)

Summary: Lance Tucker has come back to his hometown with his ego bruised and his look on life more tainted then ever. When he runs into Y/N; a vibrant plus size woman he went to high school with at her bakery ‘Cake Faced’, he leaves the shop with the taste of sugar on his lips and a hunger that has nothing to do with the cupcakes.

💘💘💘💘

You know when you just have one of those days that’s complete and absolute shit from start to finish? The kind of day where it feels like a every possible thing that could go wrong, does go wring?

Yeah, Lance Tucker was having one of those.

He woke up to a serious case of morning wood, like the violent kind, his erection strained painfully against the material of the sweat pants he’d worn to sleep and when he freed it, it had crooked up so fast that it slapped against the taut lower abs of his stomach. It wasn’t that Lance wasn’t accustomed to this particular issue, he’d been a teenage boy before, “Wet dreams are a normal part of growing up” he remembered his family doctor telling him, much to his mortification.

But he was a grown man now. He shouldn’t be waking up hard as a rock- at least not as frequently as he had been. For the last two weeks, ever since that god forsaken night at the bar, he’d been able to dream about nothing but you. It was cliché and annoying, but somehow you always popped up. His subconscious couldn’t keep you out.

Whether the dream was about him being lost at sea, in some kind of suburban ground hog day like hell- or scariest in a court room where he was being accused of sleeping with the gymnasts back in California- you we’re always there. Offering him a Pina Colada served in a coconut, or dressed in a tight 50’s style dress waiting for him when he sang out ‘Honey, I’m home", or sitting on the defense stand. “No, he’d never do that!”

You wouldn’t go away.

And waking from last nights dream, the one where he was seventeen again, winning his first gold and you were in his hotel room waiting for him. Your hair falling around your shoulders like a halo, a black silken robe hugging your curves. Your plump lips painted a bright cherry red, as you perched on your knees on the bed.

“Congratulations Mr. Tucker” Your voice had been angelic but your eyes we’re fucking monstrous. Devious. Enough to bring anyone to their knees “Come give me that gold” And then you’d opened that robe and he’d lost it at the sight of your heavy round breasts and cute tummy. Those pert nipples and thick, juicy thighs. Dream him had literally pounced on you.

And just as he was about to pound you into the mattress, the sound of someone next door mowing their lawn had woken him up.

“Fuck me” Lance groans as he fists his hard on, tugging it roughly. He was getting sick of jerking off. Sick of you messing with his head the way you had been doing since that day he’d walked into your shop.

You just wouldn’t cave, and he just wouldn’t give up his pride.

He hadn’t tried to contact you in the weeks that had followed your rejection. Even though he found himself driving past your shop, though he’d memorized the road that lead to your house. Why should he ask again? You should be the one asking, begging, for his attention. It shouldn’t be this fucking hard.

He thinks about that look in your eye, the one that had been there when you’d pressed that kiss to his cheek and then slammed the door in his face. How messed up is it that, thats what gets him off. Makes him shoot his load and bite his bottom lip so hard he thinks it might fall off.

He hates you, after he comes down from the high of the orgasm.

He wants you, when he cleans himself up,

When he thinks about how hard he had just came. Just with the thought of you behind his eyes. He could only imagine the real thing-

The blaring ring of his phone interrupts his thoughts and he reaches over to blindly grab at the device on his night stand, checking the time before answering it.

It was only 5:30 in the morning. What kind of sick fuck was mowing their lawn at this time?

“Hello?” He answers, his voice rough as sandpaper.

“Lance, my man” It’s the familiar voice of Allen, his manager-well former manager. He hadn’t spoken to him in months and he was kind of shocked to hear him now, this early in the morning.

Red flags instantly went up in his mind.

“Allen? What’s going on?”

“Hey, hey, breath. It’s nothing that we didn’t know was bound to happen eventually, I just wanted you to hear it form me before anyone else tells you about it” Lance had always hated the way Allen sugar coated everything “So CNN got a hold of the story-”

That catapulted him into a sitting positon “What the fuck?! What do you mean they got a hold of the story? I thought that it was being kept wrapped up? That’s why the gym got closed down, right?” Lance’s words tumble out of his mouth, dread filling his stomach.

“They tried to keep it under wraps, you know the Board didn’t want it out because it makes them look just as bad as anyone, but some mom leaked it to TMZ for the payout and well-”

“God fucking damn it” Lance runs a hand over his face. This was bad. Even though he’d had nothing to do with the whole Zach being a child molester thing, he knew that the whole gym was about to get drug through the mud. That everyone’s names that were even the least bit involved were soon going to be tarnished. Because no mother would ever have their child being coached by someone who was deemed “unsafe” by fucking Anderson Cooper.

His career really was over.

And funny thing, it wasn’t even his fault.

“-And it will be okay, you can give a statement and clear things up on your end-” He hadn’t even been listening to Allen’s rambling.

“No” Lance decides “Fuck no, I’m not saying shit. Not right now, when everything is about to blow up”

“But-”

“Allen, I have to go. Keep me updated about what’s going on, okay? I’d like to know when I’m gonna’ see my face on national news” And he doesn’t even wait for a reply before he clicks the end button and hangs up. He’s quiet for a moment, attempting to process it all.

He was the fucking god of gymnastics, they couldn’t do this to him. And yet they we’re- over some sex scandal he hadn’t even committed himself. He always though that if it was a sex scandal that was going to end his career, at least he’d would have been the one to do it!-

The heavy rumble of the lawn mower out side of his window makes his eye twitch and he gets out of bed, throwing on a t-shirt over his naked chest and making sure his sweats sit normally on his hips before storming out of the apartment- onto the little patio above the garage. Ready to tell who ever the stupid prick was- just how stupid of a prick they we’re.

“Ma?” Lance is shocked as he see’s his mother in the early morning light, a neon pink wicker gardening hat on as she maneuvers the lawn mower. She looks chipper- and completely oblivious to the fact that he was going through a crisis.

“Good morning, Lancelot!” She uses the nickname she’d always had for him, but doesn’t stop her task “There’s breakfast inside on the table. I made that grapefruit juice you like! Fresh squeezed!”

“Mom, it’s not even six in the morning yet, what the hell are you doing?” Lance, barefoot, pads down the wooden steps and onto the lawn. He’s dark hair is mused, his blue eyes still puffy and sleep swollen as he crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the woman who had given him life.

She stops the mower, just for a moment to talk to him.

“The early bird catches the worm, you’ve gotta’ remember that one, hon’. I’ve been up for hours, just look at my rose beds, don’t they look so nice?” He looks at the vast garden on the other side of the yard. It didn’t look any different to him but he tells her their nice anyway.

She’d been on this weird renovations kick, which meant so had he because he ended up finishing whatever project she started. So far she’d painted the kitchen, refurbished an old piece of shit dresser she’d found at a yard sale, and now was proceeding to prim the outside of the house. Retirement wasn’t being kind to her, he knew she’d never been able to stay idle. A trait he’d inherited from her.

“Now go eat! And make sure the girls are up, will you? And would you mind driving them to school today? Brooklyn has an early shift”

He wants to punch the garage wall. Wants to jump off the roof of it, but he forces a “fine” through his teeth and goes to play Mr. Uncle-mom to his nieces.

Had you told Lance last year that he’d be living back home, in a house full of women, he would have laughed in your face. And yet here he was, doing exactly that. He guessed it could be worse, at least he had a little bit of space since he lived in the room above the garage and not in the actual house, but still. He was drowning in estrogen.

He was drowning in general.

Mornings are chaotic in the Tucker household, Brooklyn gets the girls dressed and ready but then has to be out of the door to make it to work in time, Lance doesn’t hold it againts her. He knew she was trying, that life hadn’t been kind to her either in the last year.

So he helped as much as he could, taking a quick shower and getting ready at lightning speed so he could pick up where his sister had left off. His mom helped too, feeding them stacks of pancakes and cups of juice.

He can’t help but be a little bitter as he watches the girls mow down. He remembers the harsh diets he’d been on as a child, fuck he’d gotten protein shakes for breakfast since he was six. The early morning gym sessions. The pressure. His dad’s whip like schedule- training. Constantly. He couldn’t be the best if he half assed it.

He shakes the thoughts as the girls finish up and grab their back packs, heading out of the front door before he does.

“You’ve been such a big help, Lancelot. I’m so happy your home” his mother rubs his arm endearingly, looking at him with grateful tawny eyes.

“It’s no problem”

What else could he say?

He slides on his pair of Ray Bans and gives her head a kiss before he’s out, after the girls. It’s a picturesque morning, they sky all clear and blue. Birds sing singing and all that. And yet he can’t bring himself to appreciate it- actually he thinks he wishes for rain. That the April sky would open in and drench the earth.

“Ooh, I love this song. Turn it up!” Lula coo’s from her place in the back seat and he chuckles and turns up Elton John’s Tiny Dancer.

“How do you even know this song?” He wonders as she belts out the lyrics. She really was a sixty year old trapped in a six year old.

“It’s a classic, Uncle Lance!”

He shakes his head and then Zoey’s being particularly quiet. Which is noticeable. Because the girl is never quiet.

“You okay?” He asks her non chalantley, eyes not leaving the road. In his side view he can see her shrug.

“I guess”

“You guess?” He purses his lip at that “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

“No” she huffs her arms crossing and he’s dealt with enough women in his life time to know to not poke the bear.

“Alright…” He drawls out. There’s one moment and then two and then she caves, the flood gates bursting open like he’d knew they would.

Some little bitchy girl at her school was giving her shit about how she should go to the Spring Fling dance because there was the family pictures that had to be taken and Zoey didn’t have a family anymore.

His face screws up in disgust.

“First of all, fuck her” Lance tells his niece “And secondly, you do have a family. Your dad’s going to be in town that week and you know your moms not going to miss it”

Zoey looks pensive “But it’s not the same. They don’t love eachother anymore”

Lance sighs. At the top of the list of things he didn’t want to do right now, talking to her about love was pretty high up there.

“That’s alright. People fall out of love all the time. It doesn’t mean they don’t care about eachother, or you guys anymore. It’s just…what happens” Lance shrugs. That’s all he’s got. He’d never been an expert on the subject, his own parents were divorced. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his dad.

“You don’t think it’ll be weird, our family picture?”

“Of course it won’t. Your parents will be in it, and grandmas chaperoning. And what am I, chopped liver?” That get her to smile a little bit, bob her head with the music.

“No, you’re the coolest. That’s why I like it when you take us to school the best, everyone always talks about how cool this car is!”

He chuckles. At least some one thought he was cool.

“Yeah they say 'your uncle has a sick ass car’” Lula chimes from the back seat and Lance almost chokes.

“Lula” he warns and she nods.

“I know, I know. No telling mom that you let us cuss in your car. What happens in the Audi, stays in the Audi” the littlest girl recites to him before continuing her musical rendition of Elton John.

After he drops off the girls his brain kind of turns off, and he ends up phantom driving around town. Down the old back roads he’d learned how to drive on. Past the park that he’d gotten his first hand job at. Past the old gym that he’d shed blood, sweat and tears, for years at. He thinks maybe he should stop. Maybe going in would make him feel…better? Anything?

But he just drives past it like he had since he’d gotten back to Hillsboro.

When he ends back up on Main Street, he knows exactly where he’s going. Where his destination is, and he slides smoothly and swiftly into a parking space right out front of 'Cake Faced’

———————————-

You don’t miss Lance.

You’d told yourself that for the past two and a half weeks. He’d gone completely awol on you after that night on your porch. He’d totally disappeared. Hadn’t stopped by the store, hadn’t been anywhere around town. Your eyes peeled for him in the super market when you went. You looked for that head of raven hair everyday among the sea of customers, but it was no use. You didn’t have any way to get a hold of him either. No number, no idea where exactly his house was…not that you’d just show up at his house. Would you? You’d searched him up on Facebook and sat with his page on your laptop screen for an entire day, contemplating clicking the “accept friend” button. You remembered when he’d sent the request a few years ago you’d literally barked out loud and ignored it. And now…well now things were different, weren’t they?

You decided againts it though. He obviously wasn’t interested anymore. Had he ever really been at all?

You can’t be mad, not really. You’d been the one to turn him down, to end things so to say. You’d spent a lot of nights hating yourself for not letting him in. And almost as many thanking yourself, because this would feel a whole lot shittier had you made love to him. Had you let him in.

So you work. It’s what your good at, after all. The shop’s Instagram page has almost 700,000 followers and you were set to get interviewed by Portlands Better Homes and Gardens magazine. You were comfortable, in your routine. With your success.

So why did you feel so…so?

“Ugh” you curse as you ice a tray of cooled Rocky Road cupcakes. You always did this when you were feeling antsy. Frosting cupcakes was the rawest form of therapy to you. Which is why you’d done almost every batch this morning by yourself, shooing any of your workers who tried to take the dark from you.

“Fine. I love getting paid to sit on my ass and watch Netflix on my phone” Shane had sasses you and you’d sent him a warning glare. It would have been scarier had you not had a smear of rainbow frosting on your cheek.

When you exit the kitchen, on your way to your office, your not looking for Lance. For the first time since that night, your not scanning for him. Not even thinking about him.

When you run into a wall like figure. Tall and hard and smelling of Armani…

Your eyes trail upwards, taking in the white t-shirt and midnight blue bomber jacket. The toned muscle underneath. The sharp jaw line and then those cerulean eyes.

“Lance?” It comes out shocked, disbelief coloring your tone.

He sure knew how to fucking make an entrance. He kept doing this. Showing up and taking your breath away. Everytime, it was totally unexpected. He never failed at slapping you in the face, right when you stopped expecting the blow.

“Hey, sweetheart” He looks down at you, at the way your till pressed to his front. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, “Miss me?”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the smile on your lips “Not even a little bit”

He knows it’s a lie, he can see it in your eyes. Hear it in your voice.

“I didn’t miss you at all either” he grins at the fact that you hadn’t stepped away. That you’d ran head first into him and now you were just standing there, pressed againts him. He decides to test it, he hasn’t seen that pretty face of yours in weeks and he can’t help the way that his hand that had been steadying on your shoulders drops, skimming down your side, the curve of your waist, and coming to rest on your lower back.

It was intimate, it wasn’t something two friends did. You don’t want to pull away but you are at work. And this town is so tiny… yoi were sure the rumor mill would eat this shit up.

“Huh, I bet. So that’s why you just turned up in here, right?” You don’t look away from him as you reach your hand around to where his was in your owed back, giving his long fingers a squeeze, before pulling them from your body and stepping away. He doesn’t let you pull your hand away though, he twines your fingers together and you fight the chill that creeps up your spine.

“I’m only here for the cupcakes” you slap his shoulder lightly at that and he brings your connected hands to his lips, pressing a kiss againts your knuckles “You got me hooked” he breaths againts your skin and your throat hitches at his words. You? Have him hooked? “I can’t get enough of those lavender cheesecake ones. I think I could eat them for the rest of my life and die happy”

You roll your eyes at him. Of course he’d been talking about the cupcakes. He couldn’t have been talking about you- about what ever was going on between the two of you. You pull your hand from his grasp.

He really did have some balls. Cutting contact with you and then just walking in here and holding your hand and looking at you like- like that! His eyes peircing and affectionate and playful.

Ugh.

You turn to go behind the counter, plucking one of the cupcakes from under the glass and placing it on a napkin.

“Here” you come back to him, reaching out to hand it to him.

“Wait, lemme grab my wallet-” Lance goes for his pockets but you shake your head, reaching to deposit the sweet in his hand.

“Your fine” you insist and he gives you a cocked eyebrow “Since you just came for the cupcakes. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You know your being a little dramatic, but hey, it’s in your nature. And you still felt odd about having not heard from him, you had no idea where the two of you stood.

Lance guawfs humorlessly and balances the cake in one hand while grabbing your wrist in the other, yanking you to a stop.

“You know damn well I didn’t come for the cupcakes”

You feel so…small. Under the grip on your wrist and the authorities timber in his voice. It thrills you. It turns you on, even though you’d deny it. Him being like this, using his coach persona on you had your lower belly pooling with heat.

“I came to see you. I’ve had- a really crappy start to my day and I thought maybe we could take a drive” Lance continues on, his fingers still locked around your grip. You notice then, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The way his shoulders sagged. He looked…sad. Of course, you’d never seen him upset so you didn’t really have anything to go on, but he didn’t hold himself the way he usually did. And there was a lot less gel in his hair today.

“Okay”

He doesn’t think he heard you right. Had you agreed? With out him having to convince you?

“Okay?” He clarifies, just to assure himself.

“Yeah. I’m going to go grab my bag, and a box for your cupcake. Do you want anything else? A water?” You ask him and even though he shakes his head you grab two bottled waters instead of one.

—————————————

Lance’s red sports car is amazing and as you climb onto the leather seat you can’t help but ogle at it a little bit. It suited him. You couldn’t really imagine him driving anything else.

Nothing else would have suited his sucidal driving habits.

“You okay over there, Sugar?” Lance’s mouth quirks as he looks over at you, your gripping the seat with white knuckles.

“Yeah, if you could please slow down though. I’d like to keep my life, thanks”

Of course Lance just chuckles and presses down on the gas harder. After a while, you realize he has it completely under control. The wheel is balanced in one hand, his eyes serene and calm as they stare at the road and you relax, trust blooming in your chest.

“So, where are we going?” You ask after you noticed that you’ve passed the 'Welcome to Hillsboro" sign.

“I don’t really know”

You humm and lean your head back, enjoying the whip of your hair and the sunshine on your face that came with the top of the convertible being down.

“You wanna go to my favorite park in the world? It’s a little out of the way, but it’s the best”

Your eyes get big and excited and of course he wants to take you to the place that makes you light up like that.

“Just tell me where to go”

You give him directions, you don’t even have to plug them into your phones GPS. The ride takes about forty five or so minutes but Lance doesn’t mind. He’d more then happy to drive far, far away from his problems at the moment.

You flip on a comedy station to pass the time and both of you end up in stitches after listening to Bert Kreischer’s Russian mob story.

“Oh hell no” you wheeze, wiping tears away from the corner of your eyes. Lance laughs so hard, his head thrown back. He looks carefree, and beautiful. So beautiful.

“Lance, look at the road!” You insist, still giggling as you poke his shoulder.

When he pulls into the gravel lot of where you say the park is, he can’t say he’s too impressed. It’s just a wide field shielded by heavy tree line-

“It’s a little bit of a walk to the actually park. That’s okay with you, right?” You tell him, reading the un-amazement on his face.

“Lead the way, Sugar plum”

The walk down the path that winds through the trees is filled with you teasing him relentlessly for calling you sugar plum. What kind of pet name was that? Sugar plum? Like the fairy? Lance just snorts and tells you that he knows you love it.

When you get to the actual park, he can see why it’s your favorite. It’s small and quaint and looks something it of a story book. With the large willow trees that framed the park equipment. There’s a sea of daffodils that bleeds into the shrubbery.

The Park looks a little like this

“How’d you even find this place?” Lance wonders as they swing back and forth on the swing set.

“I wish it was like some cutesy story, but it’s really not. I- as I assume you remember- am extremely directionary challenged and I got super lost one day and ended up here when I was ,like, I don’t know twenty, I think? I smoked a joint and slept in my car and now this is my favorite place”

He can’t help but chuckle at your story, at the bluntness. Unbeknownst to him, you were sharing something big with him. That day you’d gotten lost and found this place had just so happened to be the day of your mothers funeral.

You don’t tell him that part though.

You don’t want to shift the atmosphere, he already seems a bit down and the last thing you intend on doing is making it worse.

“I wish we had a joint right now” He sighs and looks up, eyes closed to the sun “I could really fucking use one”

“You know you can talk to me, right? I mean I’m a lot of things but a judgemental bitch is not one of them” You gnaw on your lip, gauging his reaction as you swing.

“Yeah, I know” Lance realizes how much he actually does want to talk about it. He just had no one to do so with. Everyone had their own busy lives and he couldn’t unload his shit on them, and yet here you were. Arguably the busiest, and yet you were still inviting him to lay it on you. Your eyes reassuring.

“Do you know why I moved back to town? Honestly” with the way he’s looking at you, you don’t think you would have been able to lie.

“Not really. I heard that some shit went down back in California, but no specific details”

Lance gets off the swing, with a huff and your worried you might have pushed too hard but he just throws you a backwards look, urging you to follow him.

And that’s how the two of you end up laying in the grass, him telling you about the fuckery road that his life had gone down. Lance took off his jacket and balled it up so that you could rest your head on it, your shoulder presses into his ribs as you listen to him.

It feels good, to vent. To bitch, to get it out. And you’re so receptive, really listening to him while not just letting him drone on. You give him input, you share your perspective.

“I think it’s probably my karma, all of this” Lance tries to sound light. Comical. But comes out bitter and upset instead.

“Hey, we all do stupid fucked up things. I hate to be the one to have to inform you of this, but your a human being” you sit up on your elbow so that your looking down at him, your hair tumbles over your shoulder like a curtian “I know your used to being this…Olympic God machine but your flesh and bone just like the rest of us”

He’s tracing your features with his eyes. The arching cupid’s bow of your lips, the deep dimples in your cheeks. The way your eyelashes flutter againts them as your gaze tips down to his. “My life is total and utter shit, Y/N”

Hearing him admit that to you, something you know wasn’t easy for him to say, makes your heart break. You reach out and push a stray, dark lock away from his forehead comfortingly. Lance keens at the feeling of your fingers feather light on his skin.

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to figure out what to do next then. Which isn’t easy, but your Lance Tucker. I have faith in you. You should have a little faith in yourself” you whisper, your fingers trailing down, skimming over that deep endent under his cheek that you had always ached to touch. Down past his chin, dancing along his protruding jaw line.

The way your looking at him is driving him crazy. The fondness and admariation your showering him with is too much…

But somehow it’s just enough. Just what he’d needed.

“Y/N” He starts but the words die in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. How to thank you, for not letting him sink into the quick sand of self criticism. For being there for him, when he hadn’t realized he’d needed anyone there in the first place.

When he reaches up to cup the side of your neck and you don’t pull away he wants to kiss you. Then you bite your plump bottom lip between your teeth, and your eyes go bashful and sweet he needs to kiss you.

So he does. He pulls you down to his lips firmly internally groaning at the fact that he’s finally getting to taste you. Your lips taste sugary sweet, your breath in his mouth saccharine like candy and he can’t get enough. He twines his fingers under your hair and pulls you closer, his tounge delving into your mouth after a while, in search of more of that flavor. The little sqeaks and hums your emiting spur him on.

“Mmm, Lance” you get out between kisses and he just shakes his head. He doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t want to stop. Not now. After he’s been dreaming about this shit for weeks like some idiot love sick teenager.

You break for the deep kiss, running your nose along his as you suck in a ragged breath of air. Your quaking at the intensity of it all. You were only kissing him, and yet your nerve endings felt frayed.

Every time he tries to go to deepen it again, to explore your sweet little mouth once more you stop him. Pecking and nibbling. When you lick the bow of his open mouth he literally growls.

“You’re the worst fucking tease I’ve ever met in my entire life” he accuses. Best kisser though, his brain shoots as an afterthought.

“Mmm” your teeth catch his bottom lip, and you tug at it experimentally “I think you need it”

You’re all but straddling him now, one of your legs throw over his hip as his arms cradle you close to his body, one hand in your hair and the other gripping the back of your thigh.

You forget how strong he is, forget what those Olympic grade muscles he hides under his shirt are capable of so when he flips you both suddenly, manuvering you as though your some skinny little rag doll, he knocks the air out of you.

He smirks down from his new position, holding his elf on his forearms above you.

He presses a kiss againts the corner of your lips “What I need is some relief. Do you know how serious the case of blue balls you’ve been giving me is? You’re killing me smalls”

You chuckle and blush at his words, turning away from his gaze. He takes that as an invitation and noses his way into the exposed side of you neck. You whimper when he begins to kiss at the hyper sensitive flesh there. You always had been a sucker for neck kisses.

When your phone rings, the shrill sound breaks you out of your Lance induced trance.

“Leave it” Lance’s breath his hit againts your ear, and he nips on the lobe to make his point.

“I can’t, it might be work” you press on his shoulder, and he gives only an inch. Only enough so that you can grab you phone. Your still pinned under him.

“Hello? Okay calm down- it’s not the end of the world. Just scratch the batch. What do you mean we’re out of the Madagascarn vanilla? I just ordered some like a month ago- fuck. Okay. No, I won’t be gone too much longer”

Lance sighs as he listens to your conversation, inferring that it’s time for him to move he gets off of you, reluctantly letting you sit up.

“I’m sorry, I left Tracy in charge and she’s new”

You apologize when you get off of the phone. Lance tells you that you have nothing to be sorry for, that he gets it and you lean in to peck him once more.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish” he warns wanting nothing more then you fuck you right here in the middle of this park. You giggle against his mouth.

Right as the sky gives an angry grumble of thunder and lightening streaks across the once sunny horizon.

And, Lance gets his wish from earlier, as it begins to sprinkle light raindrops. He’s cool for a moment, enjoying the pecks you press to his lips before recolonization causes his eyes to snap open.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move so fast as he bolts up onto his feet.

“Fuck!” Lance cries “I left my roof down!”

—————————————–

When he drops you back off at the shop, with a final dragging kiss that you have to force yourself to pull away from, he feels better. He really does. He’s surprised just how fucking light he feels- as he watches you sashay back into your shop, shooting him one last smile over your shoulder.

He’s driving back home when his phone dings, he stops at a red light and checks the alert.

Y/N Y/L/N has accepted your friend request.

The one he’d sent literal years ago. Lance snorts and shakes his head. Finally.

Part Seven

—————————————

@huntressxtimelady @i-had-a-life-once @peacefulwriter88 @spookyscaryscully @zombiewerewolfqueen @adyseesbeauty @geekyweed @pegasusdragontiger @booklover2929 @ultrafangirl000 @acunningstargazer @curvybihufflepuff @la-meneur-louve @tatathekissypotato @iamwarrenspeace @the-loud-and-crazy-rabbit-pirate @aknerdchick @avinaris @yslbucky @sophiealiice @sebstanwassup @4theluvofall @wildefire @debbielovesbucky @peaceloveancolor @effielumiere @ballerinafairyprincess

Well this chapter ended up being almost 7k! I just couldn’t stop lol. I wanted you guys to get to peek into Lances life, while also keeping him in character. I’m obsessed with the way his and Y/Ns relationship is starting to unfold and I hope you guys are too. Next couple of chapters will be ALOTTA fluff and smut. And I’m thinking I want to wrap this one up soonish? Maybe end it with 10 Parts?

Leave me some feed back and let me know what you guys thought of this one! Love you pretty babies!

[anakinsbugs]

The Blogfather

New Post has been published on https://walrusvideo.com/the-blogfather/

The Blogfather

He wasn’t an Arsenal fan, but he was at the 1971 FA Cup final. I wasn’t born yet (I didn’t arrive until September of that double winning year), but he saw Charlie George score that winner and lie flat on his back on the Wembley turf to celebrate.

Like so many of his generation, he came to England from Ireland to find work in the late 1950s, and I’m sure my love of football came from him. There was always a ball, always a kick-around in the garden, or on the front lawn of the castle we lived in for a while (honestly, it was a castle).

Back then you could just go to a football match. Rock up on a Saturday, and pay your way into the ground depending on who was at home. He lived and worked in West London, and nominally he was a Fulham fan. He loved Johnny Haynes, but he was a huge admirer of Jimmy Greaves too. He liked players who could do things with both feet, and he went to matches all over the city, just because he could.

Some of my earliest memories are of him playing football. He started life as a forward (like my brother), but by the time I came along and he was togging out for the village team in Bishopthorpe (near York), he’d moved back to centre-half (where I played my whole life). I’d stand on the sidelines with my mam. I don’t remember the games or the performances, just the fact that I was there and so was he.

..

He was pretty strict when we were young. I think it was because he had very clear ideas about what young men should and shouldn’t do. They should look smart, for example, and definitely not wear jeans. They really shouldn’t watch Grange Hill, because those children were basically juvenile delinquents and didn’t respect figures of authority sufficiently.

He worked a lot though, so it was often drive-by stuff. He spent most his working life in the hospitality industry – bars, restaurants, hotels. Long hours, late nights.

Once, in the back garden, I was winding my brother up, as big brothers do. He reached breaking point and unleashed a wave of expletives that would have made a sailor blush. Dad, probably trying to get a bit of rest upstairs, heard everything, stuck his head out the bedroom window and it was the most trouble any little boy has ever been in before or since. I felt bad, and I bought Tim some Cadbury’s Creme Eggs to say sorry.

..

In 1996 he was away on a golf trip in Spain and fell ill. Cardiomyopathy. The prognosis was not good. He needed a heart transplant. In the mists of time it feels like it happened quickly, but it didn’t. He spent months and months gravely unwell, in and out of hospital, but in the end they took his actual heart out and put someone else’s in.

It’s basically a miracle, isn’t it?

When you think about it, it’s absolutely crazy, but as I said at his eulogy, it changed his life and it saved his life. He became a fierce advocate for organ donation. He helped found the Irish Heart and Lung Transplant Association, and he went onto to chair the European Heart and Lung Transplant Federation. He wanted to ensure as many people as possible could benefit from the incredible medical advancements, and the work carried out by doctors and transplant teams.

As you might imagine, that kind of thing gives you a new perspective on life. He was certainly mellower post-transplant, but it coincided with us reaching a stage of adult life where your relationship with your parents changes anyway. We did a lot of stuff together. Golf, pints, dinners, holidays, even the Arsenal.

I don’t know if the trip we took to London was specifically to see a game, or if it coincided with something else, but he came with me to the Emirates to see us play in the Champions League. We played PSV and a late goal from on-loan Chelsea defender Alex saw us crash out. Not exactly a stellar night on the pitch, but it was still a good one off it. We had post-game pints in The Tollington, he met many of the Arseblog crew, and he often talked about how much he enjoyed it.

He loved Arseblog and what it became. He’d read most days. He’d say ‘Some of those chaps on the Arses are a bit fruity, aren’t they?!’.  He even listened to a podcast, impressed and somewhat astonished with how often, and with such variation, Ian Wright said my name.

..

He hadn’t been well for a couple of weeks. I took him to the doctors on February 1st. She told me she was worried about his kidneys. Years of anti-rejection and immuno-suppressant drugs take their toll. Blood test results came back that afternoon. He needed to be in hospital.

I remember him waving to us from the ambulance before it pulled away, his big overcoat pulled tightly around him on a cold evening. Over the next couple of weeks he was treated for the infection, he was getting there, but slowly.

On Monday February 15th I got a phone call from a doctor. He’d been unwell, so they ran more tests. One of them was for Covid-19. It came back positive. We spent a year doing everything we could to keep him safe during the pandemic, and somehow he picked it up in the Coronary Care Unit of a hospital.

Yet over the next week, he didn’t really develop any of the major symptoms. On Monday February 22nd he called from his bed, we spoke about him coming home. He couldn’t wait to get back to his chair, in front of the fire, to watch golf and CNN. We wondered how strong he’d be, what care he might need. How we might have to adapt the house. Downstairs bedroom, stairlift, that kind of thing.

Then … day 10. Covid hit.

Did you ever get winded? It’s scary, isn’t it? Those few seconds where you can’t catch your breath. Imagine that all the time. He needed oxygen, then more oxygen, then all the oxygen it’s possible to give someone.

We were lucky in that we were allowed in to see him. We got to talk to him. That will always be a comfort, but seeing your dad on his own in a six bed ward, surrounded by and attached to machines, struggling to breathe is brutal. You want to help somehow, but you can’t.

We were clad in so much PPE, gown, masks, goggles, gloves, that he thought we were doctors at first. Maybe that’s why he told ‘them’ he didn’t want to die in hospital.

He died in hospital … in the early hours of March 2nd.

He’d been through so much. The heart transplant, he beat a lung cancer situation, he had an ongoing prostate cancer situation, but he couldn’t beat this. He was 84 and he’d lived a good life, but it doesn’t make it any easier to see someone you love die like that.

I’m not going to preach to anyone, but I can only urge you to be cautious. I know we’re all fed up with restrictions and life being the way it is. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel as vaccines are being rolled out, but this virus is still out there and it’s still dangerous. The most vulnerable among us are still loved and cherished family members and friends. Please don’t lose sight of that amid frustration, we all have a responsibility to each other. Someone’s age or their underlying condition doesn’t make them expendable.

Be careful. Look after each other. Each one of those statistics released daily is a real person, with many more left behind. Wash your hands. Wear a mask – at worst it’s a mild inconvenience, at best it saves lives, maybe even your own. Get the vaccine when you can.

My daughter, who I haven’t seen in person for over a year now, couldn’t get home for her grandad’s funeral. The funeral at which only ten people were allowed. That’s not how we do things in Ireland. There was no wake, no telling of stories about the one just gone. The laughs you have at events like that seem incongruous to the situation, but they’re a big part of how get through it.

Like so many other families over this last 12 months, we were apart at a time when we needed to be together. Just a couple of weeks previously my big cousin Adrian, a Gooner and only a few years older than I am, was taken by Covid too. He wasn’t elderly, he wasn’t high risk. I had to ring my dad in hospital and tell him, and while the staff in there were so lovely, he had nobody to share that grief with in person.

The support mechanisms we have in place to cope with things like this aren’t there any more. There are very obvious impacts of Covid on our lives, but there are malingering ones which I don’t think we’ll come to understand for some time yet.

..

Whatever nurses are paid, they deserve twice that, and more. They are amazing. They don’t need to be clapped, they need to be paid properly. You might not need them now, so perhaps they don’t register, but there will come a time when you will, and they will be amazing for you and your family too.

They shouldn’t have to fight for the compensation they deserve. We should be fighting for them. We should be angry on their behalf. Fight for healthcare.

Pay them properly.

..

My dad was an amazing man. Really funny, kind, generous, a good person who was the linchpin of our family, and we’re going to miss him terribly. He was well cool too, I mean, look at that 1960s shades/rollneck action he had going on.

I’m experiencing a lot of emotions right now, and it’s going to take some time to process, as they say. Today though, I just want to remember him in a positive way. A man who had a huge influence on who am I, someone who – when I think of him – makes me smile.

It’s absolutely shit he’s not going to be around anymore, and the circumstances of his passing were deeply unpleasant. It’s been a really rough few weeks, to be honest. However, he gave me the strength to get through this, and on this Arsenal blog I’m gonna take the owner’s privilege and set myself up with a tap-in to finish.

Love you Dad, and as a wise man once said, you were f*ckin’ excellent.

The post The Blogfather appeared first on Arseblog … an Arsenal blog.

The Article The Blogfather First Appeared ON : https://arsenalweb.co.uk

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Go to Source Author: Goldie

[mysticdrabbles]

hi, could i get RFA/V/Saeran when they find out MC is jewish? maybe they come home and she's preparing for shabbat (sabbath) or something? recent antisemitism (*cough cough* the "are jews people" segment from CNN) has been really getting me down and making me nervous and i'm just so tired lol i'm sorry if you want me to elaborate on shabbat i totally can, i don't mind

Eyyyy guess who’s a year late to this T_T I hope every Jewish person reading this is having a wonderful day. (Also, I learned all I know about this stuff via Google so if I got anything wrong please, please feel free to correct me!)

Happy Hanukkah! ^^ 

Zen: 

The first time it comes up is about a month into your relationship.

Once you reach the point where you’re spending practically every day together because his day isn’t complete unless he gets to see your beautiful face~

(insert Zen wink emoji)

You’re a little nervous the first time he comes over on a Friday evening

Not that you’re ashamed of your religion, of course! It’s just that the news lately has you kind of worried that he might be… you don’t know, but you’re worried.

When he gets to your place after his rehearsal is over he finds you cooking.

“What’s the occasion, babe?”

“Just preparing for shabbat.”

The word sounds kind of  familiar but he can’t quite place what it is please don’t be offended by his ignorance.

You explain to him that it’s the Jewish day of rest.

He’s basically kicking himself now, because he knew that. 

(He played a Jewish character once, he can’t believe he forgot!)

He listens respectfully to the rest of your explanation 

And he’ll be as involved with this and other traditions as you feel comfortable with. 

He personally isn’t religious but he has nothing but respect for you and your religion.

His own ignorance has also made him realize that he doesn’t really see much of the Jewish faith in films and musicals?

Congrats, Zen is now an official advocate for proper Jewish representation in media!

If ever he’s in a play or film where a character is Jewish, he’ll run everything by you to make sure it’s both accurate and non-offensive.

And when a director refuses to change something after you explain that it’s a not only a false stereotype but a harmful one 

He quits the play on the spot.

His agent warns him that it’s not a good idea to get publicly involved in any kind of political argument, but he doesn’t care

“There’s nothing political about whether or not to be a decent human being and respect others.”

Yoosung:

When he cooks a meal for you, he doesn’t think to ask if you have any dietary restrictions, religious or otherwise.

And of course, tonight he decided to try a pork bulgogi recipe he found online.

Which is… sweet and all. 

But unfortunately, you have to explain to him that you’re Jewish, and you don’t eat pork.

He immediately regrets the oversight, 

He’s sorry he didn’t ask first.

Honestly, he didn’t even think to ask you about your religion.

He isn’t really religious himself and he just doesn’t think of this stuff most of the time?

Now that he knows he asks you a bunch of questions to make sure he doesn’t do or say anything wrong.

(boy’s sitting on his computer googling “how to not offend my Jewish s/o”)

He looks up Jewish recipes and practices them until they come out perfect.

He also makes a list of the foods that you don’t eat.

He’s sitting at his computer taking notes as though there’s gonna be a test or something.

It’s not just fear that makes him want to learn about your faith though. He also actually likes the religion?

Jewish religion and traditions all sound lovely? You sound like such great people? And he already knows you specifically are a great person, so that’s one point in their favour.

He’s absolutely terrified to meet your family.

Are they going to hate him because he’s not Jewish?

Should he convert? 

(You assure him that he doesn’t need to do that.)

He’s also super fast to jump on anyone who makes anti-semitic comments, both online and in real life.

Someone on LOLOL makes a gross, offensive comment and he gets his guild to literally destroy the guy

The jerk can’t go anywhere without Yoosung’s guildmates immediately killing him

Yoosung and his guild are savage and they do not tolerate this kind of hatred and disrespect.

Jaehee:

Jaehee has come in contact with all kinds of people from various parts of the world during her time working for Jumin.

So she respects all faiths and all cultures.

Your faith in particular  comes up one morning, when she hears you praying.

She asks what it is you were just reciting

(She waits until after you’re finished, of course. She would never interrupt you.)

You tell her that it’s a Jewish morning prayer.

Unlike the last two guys, Jaehee doesn’t need to ask many questions. As mentioned before, she’s met with other Jewish people before.

She doesn’t know everything, of course.

Just the basics.

And she’s more than willing to ask you about the details and things she’s not sure about. 

Not because she’s worried about messing up or getting anything wrong

She just wants to know more because your faith is a part of you, and she takes interest in every part of you and your life.

And despite her being Catholic and you being Jewish, there won’t be any conflict. She has nothing but respect for your religion.

She finds devotion to faith admirable regardless of what faith it is. 

Each of you follows your own traditions and beliefs and you respectfully support each other.

She’ll accompany you to the synagogue if you’d like, and she’ll invite you to her church as well though it’s certainly neither an expectation nor a requirement for you to go.

Basically she just… understands 

And engages in healthy communication whenever possible.

Because Jaehee is like a pro girlfriend.

Jumin:

Like Jaehee, Jumin has come across people of all cultures thanks to his work. 

He’s even been to Israel on a business trip before, so he knows a bit about what Judaism is.

Actually, Jumin finds it quite fascinating to learn about other cultures and beliefs. He loves meeting different kinds of people with different ways of life.

He honestly finds everything about your faith interesting

And you can bet he’s going to ask tons of questions.

He wants to know everything.

He wants to know about all of your traditions and ceremonies and symbols…

Everything.

He’s not trying to interrogate you, or be intrusive. 

He just wants to know, both because of his personal interest in other cultures and his personal interest in all things related to you.

He offers to hire you the best cooks he can find to prepare you meals for shabbat

But you tell him that you’d rather do it yourself because it’s more meaningful to you.

He nods thoughtfully

“I see.”

He then calls Jaehee to clear his schedule for the day so he can stay home and help you personally

He’s not the greatest help

Read: he can’t cook for shit and he somehow set the deep fryer on fire

But he can do menial tasks and keep you company while you work.

He just wants to be with you and be part of your life.

Of course, he can’t take a day off every week.

(Jaehee would die of stress)

But he tries to at least come home early enough to help if you need him.

He doesn’t interfere or anything, especially if you don’t want him to.

Mostly he just sits with Elizabeth the 3rd and watches you.

He also likes being present during the Kiddish, when you say prayers over wine.

(He likes anything that involves wine.)

His father might be a little concerned at first about him being in a serious relationship with you.

(He has nothing against Jewish people. He’s just worried there will be conflict since you’re Jewish and the Hans are Christians.)

But you win him over with your respectful attitude and your love for Jumin.

And if anyone else comments on Jumin Han having a Jewish significant other, Jumin is cold and savage.

(“How can you be dating someone who believes that?”

“You shouldn’t speak about others beliefs as absurd when you’re the one who has the ridiculous belief that I care at all what you think.”)

No one messes with his love and gets away unscathed.

Seven:

Literally the first thing he says to you when you tell him you’re Jewish is “that makes sense, I always thought you Israeli great.”

(*finger guns*)

There will be cheesy jokes whenever he can fit them in 

(When he finds you cooking in preparation for shabbat he comes up and kisses you. You ask why. He grins. “Just wanted you to know that I like you a latke!”)

And then there’s the sweater he buys for the holidays that features a menorah and the words “It’s Lit”.

But in all seriousness, he absolutely respects you and your beliefs.

I know it might not seem like it, since he’s so nonchalant and joke-y about his own religion sometimes

But he actually has a huge amount of respect for all religions.

Well, all religions that aren’t cults.

After all, he lived a pretty miserable, hopeless life before he found his religion. In a way, that church saved his life.

So he definitely understands how important religion can be to people.

And honestly, Saeyoung loves hearing about other religions and beliefs?

He thinks that every religion has valuable teachings. 

He’s not the type of person who’s going to argue the details of which religion got everything right. 

For him personally, identifying as Catholic is more a show of loyalty to the church that saved him as a kid. 

Not that he doesn’t believe in Catholic beliefs! He does, for sure. 

He just personally believes that it’s unlikely any one religion got every detail right.

(But he respects people who do believe in their religion 100% too! Again, his beliefs aren’t law. Maybe he’s right, maybe you’re right. He’s not going to argue about it.)

Also, can you speak any Hebrew? He’s not perfectly fluent but he’s decent and he always loves finding foreign language buddies. 

(And let’s be real he could become a master at it if he wanted to just give him like a week or so he really likes languages)

If you can’t speak much, maybe he could teach you if you want?

He’s also pretty excited to celebrate Hanukkah with you.

(He’s super excited because he was planning on building you something for Christmas but since Hanukkah has eight days that means that he can build you eight things!)

“Saeyoung, no.” “SAEYOUNG, YES!”

This is after checking with you that you wouldn’t be offended or uncomfortable if he does, of course.

If you don’t want him to participate at all he will politely and quietly sit on the sidelines until you’re finished with your prayers and ceremonies. He’ll follow whatever rules you chose to impose on him.

And as for antisemitic news stories…

Whenever a headline like that appears he hacks the tv station to change the words to say things like “New Study Finds that Jewish People Are 70.7% Cooler Than News Anchors”

Saeran:

Saeran walks in one day to see you putting out candles around the room.

“What are you doing?”

If it comes off as a bit snappy, it’s just because not knowing things makes him nervous sometimes. He’s not annoyed, he’s just confused and curious.

You explain to him that it’s shabbat tomorrow and you have to prepare.

He’s heard you say that you’re Jewish before but he doesn’t really know what it means other than the general fact that it’s a religion?

It’s never really come up in his incredibly sheltered life

And he hasn’t gotten an opportunity to ask you yet, until now.

You explain the concept of shabbat to him, and answer his occasional questions

(Things like ”What are the candles for?” and “Why Saturday?”)

Saeran is…

Wary about religion, to say the least.

Unlike his brother, he has no positive associations with religion. Definitely not enough positive associations to outweigh the negative ones he had with Mint Eye.

Don’t get me wrong, he heard nothing but nice things about it from Saeyoung when they were younger

But even that might have also caused a bit of jealousy-based resentment?

So organized gatherings of religion are a pretty hard no for him. The very idea of churches (or synagogues) scares him.

He’s sorry…

And… he’s not sure about big family get-togethers either. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for something like that yet. Or if he’ll ever be.

He’s sorry he’s sorry he’s sorry

He won’t stop you from doing anything, of course.

And he’ll help out around the house as much as he can with any cleaning and cooking.

And once he stops panicking at the thought of being surrounded by people considered “believers” again

(He knows it’s different, he’s sorry again)

He finds the whole thing… calming?

He sits quietly while you light candles and pray and just… soaks up the positive atmosphere.

As long as he’s not expected to participate in everything and you respect that he might not always be up for joining you for things

Then he’s perfectly fine with it.

V:

V has mostly positive memories of the holiday season.

And the negative ones he as are mostly only negative because they were the years he spent alone. 

The years that everyone he loved was too busy working to celebrate with him.

But for the most part, he associates Christmastime with good memories

Having a rare sit down dinner with his father

Sneaking out to exchange gifts with his mother (she would usually buy him art supplies, of course)

Attending mass with Jumin and his family

Exchanging gifts with Rika…

So of course he wants to share those positive memories and make new ones with you as well, no matter how new your relationship may be.

So he asks you what you usually do for Christmas

(Jihyun it’s October.)

(Yeah, but he has to start planning now if he wants to find you the best gift possible ^^;)

And he asks if you would be interested in celebrating it with him, maybe going to mass together?

(He’s slightly ignorant, yes, he grew up in a Christian neighborhood, he’s used to just being right with this assumption.)

You take this as a perfect opportunity to tell him that you’re Jewish

…oh. Oops.

He feels like he’s messed up or offended you.

That was never his intention, he swears.

Has Luciel invented a time machine yet because he could use one right now

The invitation to go to mass with him is still open, of course, and in return he could join you in attending your synagogue if you’d like. 

But if you’re not comfortable with that, that’s fine too! He can go to church with Jumin and meet up with you after.

He offers provide you with anything you need.

Ingredients for food, the nicest wines he has, the most ornate and beautiful menorah money can buy, literally name anything you want and it’s yours.

He’ll also buy you small gifts for each day of Hanukkah. 

A book he thinks you’ll like, a puzzle with a picture that reminded you him of you…

Nothing too big.

Until the last day of Hanukkah, when he hands you a large frame-shaped gift

As you’re opening it, he tells you that it’s the first major painting project he’s completed since becoming a professional photographer and trading his paints for a camera. 

“So bear in mind that I may be a little out of practice.”

(He’s nervous)

“Not to mention I technically specialize in landscapes and scenic paintings. I haven’t drawn something like this in a while, let alone painted one.”

(He’s so worried it’s not good enough, you want to open it faster just so you can assure him that it’s great, whatever it is.)

And boy is it great.

It’s a portrait of you lighting a candle on the menorah

And it is beautiful

The expression of pure peace on your face, your slight smile softened further by the gentle glow of the candlelight

The warmth that both your skin and your expression radiate

The reflection of the flame dancing in your eyes and making them sparkle

It’s incredible. 

He calls it “Faith”

Aside from the obvious reason, he says it’s because you restored his faith in both love and himself.

He’s actually debating making it his first public painted work, if that’s something you’d be comfortable with.

If not, then you can keep it and do what you like with it.

He just wanted to capture the feeling of happiness and… well, faith, that he sees in you when you practice any of your religious traditions. 

Because it’s beautiful.

And so are you.

Vanderwood:

Vanderwood isn’t really religious

But they also couldn’t care less about what other people believe 

(As long as it doesn’t hurt or otherwise negatively affect those around them, of course.)

So when they come home to find you lighting candles and praying they’re not really all that concerned?

(Well, their first thought is “where do we keep the fire extinguisher again?” but that’s mostly just an instinctive reaction to seeing fire after working with 707 for so long)

They listen to your explanation about shabbat because they respect you and therefore respect your beliefs

And they will absolutely make sure they don’t do anything that could offend you

(Not that they would say offensive things in the first place.

Mostly they’re worried they might misunderstand something or read false information.)

They actually kinda like the whole shabbat thing?

It’s nice to have something that’s a guaranteed fixed schedule. 

It makes them feel… stable.

In their old life patterns like that could be a weakness, since they make you predictable.

But now it comforts them to know that every Friday night and every Saturday they know  where to find you and what you’ll be doing

Oh, but there is one thing that they definitely need to discuss

They read that you’re not supposed to do certain chores on the day of shabbat.

Does that apply to them too? Is it rude if they do those things? What if they only do it when you’re not in the room?

They absolutely will refrain from all cleaning if you would find it disrespectful in any way

They’ll sit down with you and make a list of the things they are and aren’t supposed to do.

Even if you say you don’t mind if they do it as long as you don’t do them yourself, they’ll still try to get most of the cleaning out of the way on Friday night

And it becomes a weekly tradition for them to come over and help you by cleaning up while you’re preparing and cooking

(They’ll help with cooking too, especially if you’re not good at it. They’re not a chef or anything but they do know the basics.)

Want to see more? 

Visit my Masterlist

Or request something new!

[ughomgwhatever]

Why do people discredit Disney characters who search for a love interest as weak and incapable people?

1) Snow White sang about it but she was also living like a slave, wishing someone would whisk her away out of her prison. She’s also a princess who’s supposed to be married off (not that that’s any better) if met with prospective suitors. Anyone else is better than the Queen and she did prove herself a capable woman at home, finding her own way out of a fucking assassination attempt on her own life.

2) Cinderella was in the same boat. She used to have a good, comfortable life but then lived in terribly poor conditions in her own fucking home. Sweeping and cleaning furnitures she could never could never hope to use. Washing clothes she could never wear. Still, she grew up kind-hearted and resilient af. She never wished them ill or be hardened by fate. She went to the ball because she wanted to party for godsake as she would have done should her parents were still living. She didn’t even mean to steal the prince away from anyone. She didn’t introduce herself. The prince literally strode up to her and the rest is history.

3) Aurora, a princess, grew up in a cottage, in the middle of a forest, with no contact to the human world but two and a half old, dumb, and colorful fairies. She was also like 16 and probably had bedtime stories of gallant knights saving the day read to her as a child. She literally sings a song about how animals have their own mates but she would probably die alone if she doesn’t meet anyone. Now, think about this. She’s never met ANYONE. No friends, much less a lover. If you were a lonely peasant, you’d probably just wanna grow up living simple dreams with a simple domestic life. There wasn’t fucking CNN to tell her that the kingdom is in peril by another fucking fairy cursing the land so she’d know to buckle up and save everybody. She also NEVER met her parents and must wonder where SHE came from or she just romanticizes a normal relationship. Those fuckin fairies probably told her shit like “les filles sont nées dans les roses et les garçons dans les choux” idk. When she met Phillip then found out she was a princess betrothed to some stranger, WHO THE FUCK WOULDN’T CRY TOO BITCH?! She just found out that her life wasn’t simple anymore. The moment she met another human being she had interest in, she was to be sold away like cattle. BTW, SHE HAD 18 LINES IN THE WHOLE MOVIE AND THE PRODUCTION WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ARTISTIC AND SHIT SO YOU CAN’T SHIT ON HER WHEN NO ONE REALLY KNOWS HER.

4) Ariel, ARIEL, BOY THIS LITTLE MERMAID. LET ME TELL YA. SHE WAS A REBEL AT HEART. DON’T SIT THERE AND TELL ME SHE AIN’T STRONG WHEN SHE COLLECTED A WHOLE TROVE OF SEA CONTRABAND OUT OF SHEER CURIOSITY. She went to that ship to see the fireworks and get a close up on the humans. Lo and behold, she sees a beautiful fucking human. Now, would she have sold her voice to the witchy calamari if her father didn’t come in and destroy her secret treasures which bothered literally no one? She’s been in the ocean all this time, how had she not fallen in love with a merman yet if that’s all she cared about?? The backstory also revealed that her father literally banned music because his musical beloved died. And what did Ariel do? SHE FUCKING JOINS A SPEAKEASY/SECRET NIGHTCLUB TYPE OF SHIT THAT EVEN THE ROYAL CRAB IS A PART OF. She never followed the rules if they don’t make sense and sticks firmly to her beliefs. And the moment she knew she fucked up from having made a mistake, SHE ALWAYS PROVED TO GIVE HERSELF UP AND BE IN THE LINE OF FIRE WHEN THINGS GO TO SHIT JUST LIKE HER MOTHER. She saved royal crab bff from getting crushed to pieces by a deranged nanny. She grabbed the angry calamari’s hair for trying to blast her father into oblivion and proceeded to have her TRUE LOVE impaled her with a ship, ridding not just one but ONE OUT OF TWO evil witches of the sea. She also searched the seas herself when her daughter went missing because she decided to ABANDONED HER WHOLE OTHER LIFE AND PAST WHERE HER KINGDOM, FRIENDS, AND FAMILY ARE. SHE DID NOT GET TO SEE HER FATHER, HER SISTERS, SEBASTIAN, AND ESPECIALLY NOT FLOUNDER WHO HAD TONS OF KIDS WHILE SHE WAS AWAY PRETENDING SHE WAS BORN A HUMAN. ALL THE MOMENTS SHE COULDN’T CELEBRATE. ALL THE GOOD PEOPLE SHE COULDN’T SHARE WITH HER DAUGHTER BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS DOING THE RIGHT THING. EVEN JUST THINKING ABOUT ERIC, WHO WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT FUCKING BRAVE TO WANT SOMETHING AND ACTUALLY GO GET IT?

5) Belle was odd, smart, and strong-willed. ‘nuff said.

6) Jasmine had a pet tiger and tried to run away from an arranged marriage. She didn’t reveal herself and give up her newfound freedom until she saw Aladdin was about to fucking die. SHE ALSO KISSED THAT DISGUSTING SNAKE JAFAR TO BUY AL TIME LIKE GET JA*FAR* AWAY FROM HER K?

7) POCAHONTAS WAS BADASS AS FUCK. SHE DISSED A MAN SHE WAS STARTING TO LIKE RIGHT OFF WHEN HE INSULTED HER PEOPLE. SHE ALSO STOPPED A FUCKING WAR FROM HAPPENING WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT. ALSO, WHEN J. SMITH TURNED INTO AN ASS, SHE TOTALLY LEFT HIM FOR A BETTER MAN BECAUSE SHE KNEW WHAT WAS GOOD FOR HER K BYE.

8) MULAN? MULAN.

9) TIANA WAS TURNED INTO A FROG BY A MAN SHE HATED FROM THE START. SHE ALSO WORKED HER WAY TO SUCCESS EVEN IF SHE HAD NAVEEN’S HELP (WE DON’T KNOW THAT EITHER) BECAUSE SHE IS AN INDEPENDENT, BLACK WOMAN WHO DON’T NEED NO MAN. SHE WAS ALSO BUSY AS HELL WORKING HER ASS OFF SO NO, “A BLOKE” WAS NOT THE CENTER OF HER LIFE.

10) RAPUNZEL WAS MANIPULATED BY AN ABUSIVE FAKE MOM FOR YEARS. THE MAN WHO SHE CAME TO LOVE WAS FIRST A THIEF THEN HER FRIEND. SHE DIDNT WISH FOR SOMEONE TO SAVE HER. SHE JUST WANTED TO SEE THE FLOATING LIGHTS.

11) OK MERIDA. SHOW ME A FUCKING BOY SHE TRIED TO CHASE IN THAT MOVIE AND I’LL YIELD. THE LOVE SHE HAS FOR HER MOTHER ALSO COULDN’T BE ROMANTICIZED BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY *Anthony Ramos’s voice* THAT SHIT’S SICK.

12) ANNA CHASED A BOY BECAUSE SHE WAS TRAPPED AND LONELY AS FUCK. SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MARRIED OFF TO A PRINCE ONE DAY, ANYWAY (not that Elsa would like it or allow it unless completely necessary but she still has to listen to the people. No country is truly run by one person). HER OWN PERSONALITY IS KIND AND NAIVE BUT DON’T TELL ME SHE AIN’T BRAVE OR STRONG. AND ELSA? HRNNNNN.

RANT. OVER.

[daddyconfessions]

sugar tales: Lady Ratchet

I met LADY RATCHET on CL about several years ago. It was the good old days when a guy could post an ad and not worry about it being deleted. Things went quick with Lady Ratchet too. After a few days of emails and text, I picked her up from some gated apts and took her to an upscale restaurant.  It was chilly that night. She had on a fur coat and a long dress that hugged her figure. Dark skinned sister with hazel eyes. Looking back on it I’d say she was hiding something underneath, but I never got the dress off to see.

As we walk into the restaurant we both noticed Sway from MTV sitting at a table surrounded by a bunch of girls and some dudes. Sway was a VJ and reporter at MTV for awhile. He also reports for something else but can’t remember what. Has his own radio show now.

We get seated and order drinks. By the time they come, we spark up what could have been a pretty decent conversation. But every few minutes she gazed over at the table Sway was at. She made little comments like, “Damn ain’t no room over there for me”  and “I wonder how long he’s here for.”  I should have been offended but tbh I was just really getting into sugaring so I was very excited to even be taking a chick out.  Feeling all lucky and stuff. She puts in an order for food and I just order an appetizer since I wasn’t really hungry. The waiter asks for the menu but she wants to keep hers. That was a precursor for things to come.

The food arrives and she takes a few bites as we talk. When the waiter comes back and asks if we’re ok she grabs and looks at other dishes. “I think I’m getting something else,” she says, perusing the dishes. The waiter asked if something was wrong with her plate and she said no. “I just want something else.” He tried to take the dish as he left but she wouldn’t let him.

We get back to talking again but now she’s really staring at Sways table off and on, tuning out our conversation. A few people have gone over and asked for his autograph and others have gathered around the table.

The dish comes and she moves her other plate to the side. She takes a few bites as we chat about what we both want out of the relationship in between he trying to see whats going on at Sway’s table.  10 minutes later the waiter has returned and now she’s ordering a 3rd drink by this point. She hadn’t finished the other two she’d ordered. “I always wanted to taste this,” she says. The waiter looked at me and I shrugged. “Get her what she wants.” Again he tries to clear the table but she doesn’t want to lose anything yet.

When the waiter comes back with the drink she’s found another dish to order. Lady Ratchet’s only taken a few bits of the last dish. This time when he leaves he makes a fuss about the table. “Ma’am you won’t have room for the dish when I come back. Can we at least put some things in a doggie bag?” She accepts and the poor chap disappears again.

“Damn I should have brought my CD,” she tells me looking over at Sway. “Oh you sing?” I ask, sipping on one of her unfinished drinks I’ve commandeered. “Yes,” she tells me and she starts humming a few verses to some song she wrote.

“What do you think?” she asks. I think she needs to keep her day job. But I say, “You sound good girl. You gone be famous.”

The waiter returns with a few cartons for the excess food as well as another waitress carrying her latest dish. The waitress sits it in front of me but our waiter says, “No its for her.” The waitress looks at me quizzically then smirks. I happen to glance at the table across from us and the folks over there have taken a keen interest in our table top which now looks like a buffet gone wrong.

Before the waiter and waitress can leave she wants another drink. They take the order and leave and I’m sure they have a pretty interesting conversation in the kitchen, much to my chagrin.

“I’ma go over there,” she announces. “Next bitch gets up from the table.” Then something snaps inside me. Not sure what. Maybe it’s the alcohol from her drink but my inner hood comes out. “Why?” I ask. “He’s got a dozen girls over there,” I say nodding towards the table. “And all of them look better than you.  So take another sip of your drink and try some more of the delicious food I’m buying.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” she says and prissy now. Then adds something to the affect, “I didn’t mean to make you jealous.”

“You’re not  making me jealous,” I remember saying. “You’re just being disrespectful.”

“You’re right baby,” she concedes and for the remainder of the evening she continues to order shit but leaves her aspirations of being a R&B singer and groupie alone. We get back to talking. Lady Ratchet wants someone to help her get an apartment and a car. No problem. I got it. My father always told me to listen to a person and they’ll tell you everything you want to know. I listen to LR and turns out she’s lost both apt and car being irresponsible.  In addition to getting them she wants them paid for monthly. She’s starting a new job that following Monday so if I take care of those big bills as well as lights, etc., she’ll be good. As we dive into the conversation further I find out she’s skipped out on a few places before the lease was up. The last 2 cars got repo’d.

Geez I can pick them. It would be a recurring theme for years to come.

“CHECK PLEASE,” I signal to the waiter as he walks by. I can tell this isn’t going anywhere. My goals changed as well. I quickly go from rescuing this groupie chick to simply hitting the kitty a few times and dumping her. I was more savage back then. Not my finer moment.

The check comes  and the waiter clears his throat as he says, “That’ll be $256.23”.

Usually they don’t announce the amount. I smile back as he puts the bill on the table in front of me. I think he’s going to leave but he stays behind. “Yea….I can take that for you now sir”. I’m tell him to come back in a minute and bring some more cartons for Lady Ratchet over here. He comes back in less than a minute. “Is payment ready sir?” he asks, dropping the cartons on the table. I pull out a wad of cash and drop $300. “Keep the change,” I tell him.

He returns with a plastic bag to hold all of the cartons of food this chick has ordered. “Oh,” she tells me.  “Ima eat good for the  next few days.”

I bet. We walk out with all the extra food cartons in bags, looking like we just went shopping for a bunch of shoes or something.

The sugar gods must have been laughing because outside we run into Sway, chatting up some fine ass Middle Eastern chick. Lady Ratchets seizes the opportunity, “Hold these,” she says, shoving the bags into me. I take them as she runs over to Sway who was clearly well on his way to getting some Persian kitty. Bastard.

“Excuse me,” she says. “Are you Sway? “

“Yes I am,” he says. She starts chatting him up. His chicks looking displaced along with me now. I walk up looking like a fucking loser with all these bags and shit. I ask him if that’s his voice I hear on Boondocks. He smiles and does a quick impersonation for me. I thank him and I become a groupie for a minute as I shake his hands. I start to say something but Lady Ratchet chimes in asking if he’s looking for any new talent. I look over at the displaced chick he was talking to and think “He’s got all the talent he needs tonight.”

Then Lady Ratchet drops to a new low. She starts humming a few notes from her wack ass song. Sway’s like

The he says some dismissive shit like, “ That’s good that’s good. Keep working on that.” Just curving that ass low key style. I manage to drag her thirsty ass away and we head to the car. “Damn. Damn. Damn” she’s saying. I put all the food in my trunk and get in the car. “Dammmmmnnn” she cries again. “I wish I had my CD. Fuck.”

“Its alright baby,” I say. But really I’m thinking you need some singing lessons. As we head towards her house we pass by a sex store. She wants go in. “I never been in one of those before,” she says. I make a U turn and pull into the parking lot. Inside she looks at all the lingerie and sex toys before stopping at the shoes. “Heeeeeeyyyy I want these,” she says indicating a pair of clear bottom stripper stilettos with 6 inch heels. They want $400 for them. I’m like, “Is your job this Monday stripping?” She says no. She just likes the shoes. I tell her, “Then where are you going to wear these heels at? She can’t even really wear these to club without people trying to pick you up.” I generally don’t care how a SB spends the money I give her or what she wants to buy. But, no way was a buying this homeless chick a pair of $400 shoes. That’s all the miscellaneous fees she’ll need for her apartment. She frowns and we settle on a dildo and a rabbit.

As we head out I say something slimely like, “When can I use those on you?” She’s like, “We can get a room tonight.” Sweet. I make a straight line to the motel. Inside the room my dick is hard as a rock and Im wondering if the those toys need batteries. She only pulls off her coat and gets on the bed though. I take off my shoes and my shirt leaving on my Tshirt and jeans.

I spend the next hour watching TV in a cheap hotel. Like “Motel and Chill”. Each time I try to get the dress off or kiss or anything she tells me she just wants to chill. Even tells me since she’s staying with her aunt she sleeps on the couch. She has no privacy whatsoever and this is the first alone time she’s had.

This shit goes on for about an hour. Just laying in the bed watching CNN and music videos and stuff. Finally I throw in the towel and start getting dressed. But she doesn’t want to leave. We go another 30 minutes before I insist we leave since I won’t be getting any kitty. We get back in the car and head back to her place. At the apartments I pull up to to the gate and ask her for the code. “I don’t have it,” she tells me. “We have to wait for someone to go in.”

Come on man! So I back up and wait in one of the parking spots by the leasing office. Car after car passes by on the street but none pull in. 45 minutes later I’ve asked the question “Uh, you can’t call someone to come  open the gate or give you the code?” 3 times. Finally she tells me they or whomever she’s staying with refuses to give her the code. She doesn’t even have a key to the place but someone will get up and let her in. Says they don’t trust her. “See Daddy, that’s why I need you to get me these things so we won’t have these problems.” I guy comes out a side gate, gets into a parked car and drives away. “We can’t use that gate?”I ask. “No,” she replies. “They are locked and you can only get out if you open it from the inside.” I inspect the gate and I don’t see how I can possibly get a hand in to turn the handle to open it.

Another 30 minutes go by of sitting in the car. I look at my phone and it’s after 2am. My wife hasn’t called yet but she’s probably sleep and hasn’t realized how long I’ve been gone. But I can’t be bothered with that at the moment. I got to get this bum bitch out of my car. Meanwhile she’s saying stuff like, “Someone should be here soon…” and “Nobody coming home tonight?” or “I’m so sorry baby. I know you have to go.” Then the sugar angels fly over my car and bless me with an idea. I see a place in a nearby fence that is fairly low. Low enough for me to climb over. If I stand on some type of metal box, probably a transformer or A/C, I can get me foot up and onto the fence and climb over.  I tell Lady Ratchet my plans, grab the food from the trunk, hand it to her and tell her to be ready when I open the gate the guy had come out of earlier. I jog over to the gate on some Mission Impossible type of shit. Only my mission is to get this chick out of my car! I could hear the MI music playing in the background as I climb on the metal thing or whatever,  get on the fence and a second later I’m on the apartment grounds.

Ethan Hunt in this bitch.

I walk fast through the apartment grounds, trying to find my way around to the gate. I got lost twice or just made the wrong turn depending on how you look at it. 20 minutes later I push the gate open and I hear the Mission Impossible music go off. I wave at my car and Lady Ratchet gets out with all the bags of food and comes towards me. When she gets to me she tells me thanks and tries to kiss me but I turn my head away. “I’ll see you later,” she says as I step outside the gate and let it close. I didn’t reply. I get back to my car and drive 100mph to get home. I get home and the wife is out cold. I slide in between the sheets like I’ve been there all night and fall to sleep.

The next two days she sends a few emails one saying “I know you’re upset about what happened. But I …” Fuck it. I close the email before even reading it.

I remember thinking at the time, if this is how its going to be as a sugar daddy then I’m done!

[sethmurfie-blog]

SHOWDOWN - [Feb. 14, 2:14 a.m.]

I WAS RUNNING. IT WAS STILL THE THIRTEENTH AND NEARING MIDNIGHT, AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE CALEB WOULD'VE GONE BUT THE FIRST THING I'D CHECK WOULD BE OUR HOME. AS I DASH PASSED THE ICE-COVERED HILL AND SEE FOOTSTEPS THAT MUST'VE BEEN THERE EARLIER TONIGHT, I SPRINT AND SPRINT UNTIL I'M PANTING AND STORMING THROUGH THE NEIGHBORHOOD, COMING CLOSE TO OUR HOUSEHOLD. MY FISTS WERE CLENCHED BY MY SIDE.

“YOU CAN ONLY LAUGH HORRIBLY AT PEOPLE’S PLIGHTS IF YOU’VE NEVER EVEN YOURSELF FELT THE TERRIBLE PAIN,” I MUTTERED IN A FETID RAGE.

BUT THEN I SUDDENLY STOPPED WHEN I SAW SOME KIND OF LAMP, SHINING, UP ON OUR ROOF. “HEY, WAIT. PLEASE, SOMEONE, ELABORATE ON THAT PETULANT LIGHT BREAKING OUT THROUGH OUR HORRENDOUS WINDOW PANE.”

AND I SAW PORRIDGE. THE PORRIDGE I KNOW. SHE WAS SITTING, ON THE ROOF, WITH HER ONE GLOVED HAND COVERING UP HER FACE, AND THE COINS REFLECTING LAMPLIGHT PERFECTLY. “Oh...” SHE SAID, “me.” SHE MUTTERED IT ENTIRELY TO HERSELF. SHE LOOKED EXHAUSTED.

“I THINK IT’S CLEAR THAT THE TIME HAS COME WHEN SHE HAS NOW JUST SPOKEN,” I FOUND MYSELF SAYING, EVEN THOUGH I DON’T KNOW WHY, AND NOT VERY LOUDLY.

PORRIDGE STILL COULDN’T HEAR ME. “Oh...” SHE SIGHED. THEN SHE SAID SOMETHING: “Seth.”

I JERKED UPRIGHT. HAD SHE JUST SAID MY NAME?

“Why are...” HER VOICE WAS IN AN UNDERBELLIED CROAK AND NOT EVEN AUDIBLE NOW. SHE SAID SOMETHING I COULDN’T QUITE HEAR AT FIRST, BUT THEN SHE SAID IT AGAIN. “Why are you Seth,” SHE SAID VERY LOWLY AND VERY SLOWLY.

“ALRIGHT SHOULD I CONTINUE TO LISTEN OR IS IT TIME THAT I CAME IN AND MADE MY FATAL APPEARANCE,” I ASKED WITH A LARGE FLOURISH OF PRACTICAL-JOKE CANS.

AS THE SILLY SNAKES SPRANG FROM THE FAUX PEANUT CONTAINERS ON MY HIP, PORRIDGE JERKED UPRIGHT. I HAD ESSENTIALLY SAID WHAT I’D SAID IN AN OPERATIC BELT, WHICH IS DIFFICULT TO NOT INTER.

“Seth?” SHE SAID, AWARE OF ME FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. “What are you doing down there?”

“WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME WHAT IT IS YOU’RE DOING UP THERE.”

"Um—" SHE LOOKED DOWN. "Caleb. Told me to meet him here—"

"ALRIGHT REALLY THAT'S WONDERFUL, GREAT, GOOD NEWS IN FACT WHY DON'T WE SUBSCRIBE TO CNN AND MAKE IT INTO A WORLD- MURFIE-WIDE-NEWS FLASH."

SHE STARED. THEN, SHE SLOWLY, WITH SHAKING LEGS, STOOD, UP ON THE ROOF. CALEB HAD STRUNG THE MULTI-COLORED CHRISTMAS LIGHTS FROM THAT TERRIBLE PARTY ALONG THE GUTTER AND THE EAVES, SO THOSE LIGHTS SHINED OFF OF HER TOO. "Seth," SAID PORRIDGE. "I'm—I'm sorry—"

"WHY DID YOU EVEN COME HERE?" I SAID. I WAS FACING AWAY FROM HER, ARMS SLACK AT MY SIDES. "THIS WAS A QUESTION YOU NEVER EVEN BOTHERED TO ANSWER, REALLY."

PORRIDGE, HOLDING HER RIGHT HAND IN FRONT OF HER FACE AND HER GLOVE TREMBLING AS SHE GAZED. THEN SHE SAID, "Well, I-I don't know. It's..."

"HOW DID YOU EVEN ARRANGE TO TRAVEL HERE THEN, WITH CART AND HORSE?"

"No," SHE SAID. "Actually," SHE ADDED, OBVIOUSLY HOPEFUL FOR A CHANGE IN TOPIC, "I used this app to get my luggage over here ahead of time. I had put my old mask on the suitcase so it would be marked from the others. I'd love to meet the person who developed that app, it was great—"

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH" I SAID. CALEB. THE FABRIC AT THE DETROIT AIRPORT. OF FUCKING COURSE.

PORRIDGE HESITATED. "Seth—?"

"WHATEVER, FORGET IT!" I LOOKED UP AT HER, ON THE SECOND-STORY ROOF OF MY HOME. I WONDER HOW SHE GOT UP THERE ANYHOW. CALEB WOULD ALWAYS GET DOWN OFF THE ROOF BY WAY OF LEAPING ONTO THE HOOD OF HIS CAR, BUT THAT WAS PARKED IN THE GARAGE NOW. AND—

"hey, buddy!" 

I LOOKED UP.

"wanna give us a little privacy?" SAID CALEB, WHO WAS STRIDING OVER, COATTAILS FLOWING BEHIND HIM ANGRILY.

"Wait, Caleb—" STARTED PORRIDGE, BUT I CUT IN.

"CALEB IS THERE ANY REASON THAT YOU NEED TO BE SO FUCKING POSSESIVE ALL THE TIME?" UNRECOGNIZABLE. FINE. IF I WAS, HE WAS TOO.

"alright buddy, you know what?" CALEB CAME FORWARD, NEARLY PUSHING ME. "you need to know the truth, okay? porridge has chosen me. don't disrespect the king."

"I—I didn't—"

"CALEB IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE PORRIDGE HAS REALLY CHOSEN ANYBODY."

"That's not true," SHE SAID, THE BAGS UNDER HER EYES LOOKING HEAVIER THAN EVER BEFORE.

"WHAT—?" BUT SUDDENLY CALEB TOOK THE BOTTLE, THE BOTTLE, OUT FROM HIS COAT AND FLUNG IT UP AND IN THE AIR. "sever your fucking ties."

"FUCK, CALEB, NO!"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" SHOUTED PORRIDGE.

"CALEB WHAT THE—"

"Here—" SAID PORRIDGE AND SUDDENLY HER FEET SKIDDED DOWN THE ROOF AS SHE PUSHED HERSELF FORWARD TO REACH OUT AND JUST BARELY SNATCH THE BOTTLE BEFORE IT COULD SHATTER ONTO THE GROUND—BUT, AT THE SAME TIME, PORRIDGE'S RIGHT SHOE LOST FOOTING AND SHE SUDDENLY FOUND HER LEGS DANGLING FROM THE GUTTER; SHE GASPED.

"PORRIDGE!!" "porridge!!"

"Fuck," SHE MANAGED, AND SHE WAS HANGING ON BY THAT ONE GLOVED HAND, THE OTHER HAND SWINGING AND STILL CLUTCHING AT THE INIMITABLE BOTTLE.

"OH GODDAMMIT CALEB." THE DROP WAS ENOUGH THAT YEAH SHE WOULDN'T FUCKING DIE BUT SHE WOULND'T NOT GET BADLY FUCKING DAMAGED EITHER. "PORRIDGE HERE" AND I HELD MY ARMS OUT.

"alright stop you're gonna fuck it up" AND CALEB PUSHED ME OUT OF THE WAY AND HELD HIS ARMS OUT. "alright porridge drop the bottle!"

"Wait, if I can just—"

"DROP IT!" I SHOUTED.

SHE DROPPED IT, AND CALEB CAUGHT THE BOTTLE THEN SET IT ONTO THE GROUND, BEFORE HE SAID "okay porridge", SPREADING HIS ARMS AGAIN BUT SHAKING WILDLY. "fuck" HE MUTTERED, SUDDENLY USURPING HIS CATCH-POSE TO RUN A SHAKING HAND OVER HIS HAIRLINE, HIS BACK HUNCHED OVER. "t-too much coke."

"CALEB YOU NEED HELP" I TOLD HIM.

"f-fuck you!" HE SCREAMED, REELING BACK.

"Uh, guys—" PORRIDGE WAS STARTING TO SLIP.

"CALEB YOU HAVE TO GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF, ALRIGHT? PORRIDGE IS GONNA FALL—"

"i'm fine! and i'll catch her" SAID CALEB. HE HELD HIS ARMS OUT.

"CALEB JUST LET ME FUCKING HELP—"

"you're not going to help."

"Guys," SAID PORRIDGE, "I-I'm, ohhh fuck—"

"CALEB—"

"seth—"

"IF YOU WOULD'VE JUST LOOKED AT THE BOTTLE THEN MAYBE YOU WOULD'VE—"

"enough about the fucking bottle!!" CALEB HOWLED. "it's just a bottle, dude, okay?! curses aren't real, the fucking ‘eenie gang’ isn’t real, none of that's shit's real, alright? you're living in a delusion and you have been since you were little, seth, and maybe it's me and mom's fault, fine, but—"

"I-I'm gonna fall—"

"CALEB—"

"and porridge is going to be with me, not you, not anyone, not some strange man coming into our home and into our mom's bedroom and who doesn't even pay respect to the grave for my dog—"

"CALEB SHE'S—"

"and—”

AND SHE FELL.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

CLUNK.

IT WAS THE SOUND OF HER FALLING AS SHE GASPED AND WAS CAUGHT TIGHTLY IN THE GRASP OF CALEB'S ARMS. AS WELL AS MY ARMS. THEY WERE BOTH AROUND HER WAIST. I'M NOT TOTALLY SURE EITHER OF US COULD'VE PROPERLY DONE IT ALONE. AND I NEARLY SHRIEKED, BECAUSE FOR AN AWFUL SECOND I THOUGHT SHE HAD LOST HER LEFT HAND BECAUSE I SAW THAT THE COIN-TIPPED GLOVE WAS STILL HANGING ONTO THE ROOF'S EDGE. BUT SUDDENLY I FELT CALEB SHIFT. AND I FELT HIM SUDDENLY DROP HIS ARMS AND LOOK AT SOMETHING, SOMETHING IN FRONT OF HIM. HIS BREATHING SLOWED. HIS AVIATORS POINTED AT PORRIDGE'S LEFT HAND, WHICH SHE WAS HOLDING UP TO HER FACE AND RUBBING GINGERLY. HER HEAD WAS DOWN, STARING AT THE BOTTLE'S TEXT, AND I SAW THAT THERE WAS SOME KIND OF METAL CIRCLE AROUND ONE OF HER FINGERS? YOU KNOW, THE FINGER BETWEEN THE MIDDLE AND THE PINKIE, I FORGET WHAT THAT ONE'S CALLED EXACTLY—BUT THAT THE METAL CIRCLE AROUND THAT FINGER HAD LIKE A JEWEL IN IT. HUH.

WE STOOD THERE FOR AWHILE. WHAT WAS THIS? WHAT EXACTLY WAS THE BIG DEAL ABOUT A METAL CIRCLE AND A JEWEL? I, I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE, EXCEPT ON MOM YEARS AGO AND UPON ASKING HER ABOUT IT, SHE SAID IT DOESN'T REALLY MEAN ANYTHING ANYMORE. AND WHY WAS CALEB POINTING AT THE FINGER PLUS STARTING TO CRY?

"Um... " BOTH CALEB AND ME LOOKED UP AT HER WHEN WE REALIZED PORRIDGE WAS SPEAKING. "I thought... " HER VOICE DIDN'T SOUND NORMAL. "I thought that if I kept it on, it would somehow be... " SHE SIGHED AND ROLLED HER HEAD ALONG HER SHOULDERS, AND I SAW THAT HER EYES WERE REFLECTING LIGHT MORE POTENTLY THAN NORMAL. WHAT? "I don't know... more—honest—" AND SHE WAS CUT OFF BY HER BREATH SUCKING INWARD AND HER BACK ARCHING—I LET GO OF HER MIDRIFF. WHAT WAS GOING ON?

"someone you met in japan?" SAID CALEB.

PORRIDGE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING, BUT NODDED. WHAT?

CALEB HAD BEEN STANDING THERE FOR SOME TIME NOW. HE HAD WIPED THE MOISTURE OFF OF HIS FACE, AND FINALLY SOME ALARM ON HIS CELL PHONE WENT OFF, AND HE LOOKED AT IT. "happy fourteenth. twenty-three hours till our flight leaves." HE WAS REALLY QUIET, AND KIND OF MONOTONE. AND CALEB PUT AWAY THE PHONE, STILL LETTING HIS ALARM RING. FINALLY HE LOOKED AT PORRIDGE BEHIND HIS AVIATORS AND SAID: "go."

"C—Caleb—" SAID PORRIDGE—

"go" HE SAID LOUDER THIS TIME, STARTING TO WALK TOWARD HER.

"Caleb Caleb, I'm—"

"will you just fucking go!!" HE SHRIEKED, AND ALL OF A SUDDEN I CAME THERE BETWEEN CALEB AND HER, HOLDING HIM BACK AND MY ARM SHIELDING PORRIDGE'S SHAKING FRAME WHILE THE INNOCENT LITTLE ALARM CONTINUED TO GO OFF AND OFF.

RING-RING-RINGGGG!

PORRIDGE SOBBED. "Will you—will you, um, read the bottle that Seth wrote on—?"

"YOU READ IT?" I TURNED TO HER.

RINGGGG!

SHE NODDED.

"go!" CALEB YELLED, AND SUDDENLY PORRIDGE TURNED AND RAN, DISAPPEARING INTO THE DARK. I STARED.

RING-RING-RINGGGGG!

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

IN THE NIGHT AIR THE ALARM CONTINUED RINGING, AND CALEB FINALLY TOOK THE PHONE OUT OF HIS POCKET AND SWITCHED IT OFF.

I WAS STILL SO CONFUSED. SO WHY DID CALEB FREAK OUT ABOUT A FINGER-DECORATION? IS THAT HE WISHES HE COULD HAVE HIS OWN FINGER-BEJEWLMENT? AND HONESTLY I'M STARTING TO REGRET WHAT I SUGGESTED VIA WRITING ON THE BOTTLE—I'M REGRETTING IT BECAUSE OF THIS BIZARRE FUCKING BEHAVIOR TOWARDS PORRIDGE AND SOME OF THE THINGS HE'S SAID HAVE JUST SET ME TO THE LIMIT. CURSES HAVE TO BE REAL. HOW ELSE CAN YOU EXPLAIN—

"seth." I LOOKED OVER. CALEB HAD PICKED UP THE BOTTLE AND WAS READING IT NOW. HIS GLASSES HAD COME OFF, AND HE WAS STARING. HE READ THE MESSAGE I'D WRITTEN, WITH I lift the curse REFLECTING BEHIND IT, BACKWARDS, AND HE SAW THAT ON THE OTHER SIDE IT SAID

CALEB,

I HAVE A SUGGESTED NAME FOR YOUR SILLY LITTLE BUSINESS. CALL YOUR COMPANY "KNIGHT BROTHERS INCORPORATED".

I'LL EVEN ASSIST YOU IN THE ADMINISTRATION ONCE I GRADUATE COLLEGE, OF COURSE. I KNOW YOU'LL WANT ME, AND MY UNCEASING CANDOR.

SINCERELY,

-SETH YOUR BROTHER.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" I SAID. CALEB HAD MADE ME ANGRY AGAIN AND AGAIN. IT WAS TIME FOR IT TO END. I DON'T KNOW WHY I WROTE WHAT I DID.

CALEB LOOKED LIKE HE WAS UNDERGOING SOMETHING THAT HE'D BEEN STRUGGLING WITH FOR A LONG TIME. FINALLY, EYE STILL ON THAT BOTTLE, FINGER RUBBING MY SUGGESTED NAME FOR THE COMPANY, HE SAID "not after college."

"WHAT?"

"not after college" HE SAID AGAIN, LOUDER THIS TIME. HE LOOKED UP. "now. come with me for the flight tomorrow night. i'll have an extra seat now, you can take time off from school and help me."

I STOOD BACK. "CALEB NO." I WAS STARING IN THE DIRECTION WHERE PORRIDGE HAD RUN OFF TO. "CALEB, WHY EXACTLY DID PORRIDGE RUN AWAY? WHAT IN THE PRUMP IS REALLY GOING ON—?"

"seth." CALEB STEPPED TOWARD ME, GRABBING ME BY THE SHOULDERS. "dude." HE WAS LOOKING AT ME, LOOKING SOMEHOW DESPARATE. "none of that matters now. just trust me. i love your idea of you helping me run my business, and flying off with me, i-i think i actually need y—"

"CALEB!" AND I SHOOK HIM OFF ME, EVEN AS HIS EYES WENT HUGE AND WORN. "NO! NO, OKAY? I, I, I NEED TO STAY HERE, I HAVE OBLIGATIONS, ALRIGHT? PORRIDGE MIGHT STILL BE HERE, AND-AND MOM—WELL, MOM P-P-PROBABLY WANTS ME TO STAY HERE, TO STAY IN SCHOOL AND—"

"seth mom doesn't care about y—" HE STOPPED.

I STARED. MY TEETH WERE CLENCHED. "WHAT?"

"mom doesn't care about us." CALEB SWUNG THE BOTTLE IN HIS HAND. "not, anymore really. she has a man to take care of her now."

"I—I—I NEVER THOUGHT MOM WAS MY GREATEST FAN, BUT I KNOW I'LL PROVE MYSELF TO HER, JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE, I KNOW I'LL—"

"seth, this is your curse. this is why—"

"NO!!!" I SCREAMED, AND I PUSHED CALEB AND RAN. I RAN AND RAN AND I RAN UNTIL COMING TO THE ICE-COVERED HILL, AND I SAT DOWN THERE, IN THE SNOW. THE WIND WENT BY GENTLY, AND I COULD HEAR A COYOTE HOWLING IN THE DISTANCE, BEFORE EVENTUALLY, I LAID BACK, LETTING THE ICE NUMB MY ARMS AND LEGS AND FEET. I STARED UP AT THE MOON, WONDERING WHEN IT WOULD BE FULL AGAIN. AND—

BUT THEN MY PHONE RINGS.

I PICK IT UP, BRUSHING OFF THE ICE-COVERED CRYSTALS. CALL FROM HOME. HM. I ANSWER IT.

"CALEB JUST LISTEN, I CAN'T—"

I STOP, HEARING THE VOICE ON THE OTHER END OF THE LINE. MY CHIN DROPS.

"MOM?"

I SIT UP.

THE VOICE JUST KEEPS ON SPEAKING.

"Y-YES" I SAY EVENTUALLY, "OKAY SO YES I UNDERSTAND, CALEB TOLD YOU TO CALL ME, AND YES I REMEMBER YOU SENDING ME TO THE BACKYARD ALL THOSE YEARS AGO—BUT W-WHATEVER, IT DOESN'T MATTER! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT WAS HAPPENING WITH YOU AND CALEB WHILE—"

THE VOICE CUTS ME OFF, TELLING ME SOMETHING ELSE.

I PAUSE. "OH. YOU TWO WOULD DO A GAME WHERE—YOU'D—WHAT? I NEVER SAW YOU DO THAT."

THE VOICE TELLS ME ANOTHER THING.

"OH. WELL I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WE OWNED ONE OF THOSE. I WOULD ALWAYS JUST GET SOAKED ON THE RAINY DAYS."

THE VOICE SAYS SOMETHING ELSE.

"OH. WELL, EVEN IF YOU WERE, WHATEVER, PRANCING AROUND WITH AN UMBRELLA WHILE INDOORS OR WHATEVER YOU SAID YOU WERE DOING TO ENTERTAIN SIX-YEAR-OLD CALEB, I-I STILL DON'T CARE THAT I WAS JUST EXCLUDED—"

THE VOICE CUTS ME OFF AGAIN, THIS TIME SAYING SOMETHING LOUDER AND WITH MORE FORCE THAN EVEN BEFORE. I WAIT TILL IT FINISHES.

"OH." AND I SIT THERE, HAND GETTING NUMBER AND NUMBER IN FROST. FINALLY I SAY "I DIDN'T THINK YOU WOULD SUPPORT ME DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT, MOM. GOING ALL THE WAY TO ANTARCTICA—"

THE VOICE SAYS ANOTHER THING. MY HEAD FALLS BACK AS MY SCALP TOUCHES SNOW AGAIN.

"YOU REALLY THINK CALEB DEPENDS ON ME THAT MUCH? THAT I'VE BENEFITTED HIM AND-AND THAT I ACTUALLY MATTER, AND THAT I AM A GOOD PERSON AND I'LL FIND LOVE SOMEDAY AND I'VE BEEN THE BEST OLDER BROTHER CALEB COULD EVER HAVE AND-AND-AND ALL THESE THINGS YOU'VE JUST TOLD ME BUT THAT YOU'VE NEVER, EVER SAID BEFORE NOW—"

THE VOICE QUIETLY SAYS SOMETHING THAT IT HASN'T TOLD ME SINCE THE DAY CALEB WAS BORN.

I SIT IN THE SNOW AND WIND. THE WHITE NOISE ON THE END OF THE LINE HUMS BRILLIANTLY, AND AFTER A WHILE I OPEN MY MOUTH NEAR THE PHONE AND SAY "LOVE YOU TOO" BEFORE I HANG UP. PERFECT STRIKE.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

WHEN I ARRIVE AT THE HOUSE TEN MINUTES LATER, I SEE CALEB, SITTING IN A CHAIR AT THE FRONT ROOM. THE BOTTLE IS ON A TABLE BESIDE HIM, WHERE CAN I SEE UNDER MY PROPOSITION HE'S WRITTEN sure.

"CALEB."

HE LOOKS UP AT ME.

I TELL HIM THAT I'VE CHANGED MY MIND. I'LL GO WITH HIM TO ANTARCTICA. TOMORROW NIGHT.

CALEB LOOKS SURPRISED, AND HE SMILES. AND THEN, HE WALKS UP AND HUGS ME. I STIFFEN, NOT REALLY KNOWING WHAT EXACTLY TO DO AT FIRST, BUT THEN I JUST PUT MY ARMS AROUND HIM, AND WE BREAK.

"okay, dude" SAYS CALEB QUICKLY. HIS VOICE SOUNDS REALLY TIRED. "get packing."

"ALRIGHT."

AND I WAS IN MY ROOM SUDDENLY PACKING MY THINGS, ROLLING UP CLOTHES AND TOSSING IN ORANGE PEELS AND COFFEE CHUNKS, AND I THOUGHT ABOUT SOMETHING I SAW, SOMETHING STICKING SLIGHTLY OUT OF CALEB'S FRONT POCKET.

"you almost ready dude?" HE CALLS AS I START TO ZIP UP MY SUITCASE. 

"A MOMENT SIR" I CALL DOWN.

I PREPARE TO WALK DOWN THE STAIRCASE, THINKING ABOUT HOW IN HIS FRONT POCKET I SAW A BOX, WITH THE WORDS—

"alright" SAYS CALEB, STOPPING MY THOUGHT-TRAIN. HE STANDS IN FRONT OF THE DOOR AND LOOKS AT OUR HOUSE FOR A FINAL TIME. "off we go dude."

"OFF WE GO."

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

BEFORE WE LEFT, THERE WAS ONE OTHER STOP.

AT THE ICE-COVERED HILL, NEAR THE MOUND, YOU'LL SEE SOMETHING, STUCK IN THE SNOW AND UPSIDE-DOWN. IF IT RESEMBLES A TOTALLY EMPTY CIDER BOTTLE, WITH WORDS IN DIFFERENT HANDWRITINGS WRITTEN ALL OVER, YOU'VE COME TO THE RIGHT GRAVE.

[qualitytimewithpeteanddeb-blog]

Quality Time With Pete and Deb - Happy New Year

Peter Grosz and Debra Downing are alums of The Second City Theater, writers, actors and husband and wife, living in Brooklyn, NY. This piece was composed at home on their computer exactly as you see it. One person would write and the other would respond, essentially like an improvised written “conversation”. The content was not pre-planned. They only decided to talk about the New Year. They wrote it on January 5th

PETE: Happy New Year, Deb. Did you make any New Year’s resolutions? I did. Mine is to ask people if they made any New Year’s resolutions. Every year I make the same resolution and I always quit by mid January. I’m the worst.

DEB: I actually did not make any resolutions. I am always so down on myself and forever reading self help books and trying to be resolute in being better so I figure I’ll give myself a break for New Years. I’m kinda out of sync with the holidays. At Halloween I’m always struggling for a costume because I feel like I’m always wearing a costume. (Cut to a family member commenting on my outfit, “My you are… certainly creative” – in a tone that is anything but complimentary. Another one of my favorites was, “You are… very brave my dear.” There was nothing “dear” about it.) But Happy New Year anyway. Aren’t you supposed to eat blackeyed peas on New Years Day? We blew that. I wonder if it counts if you listen to the Black Eyed Peas? We didn’t do that either. I think the only thing I did on New Years Day was research where Zika is in the Caribbean. It’s everywhere by the way. Happy New Year!

PETE: We should all give ourselves a break. The New Year should be a time to reflect and think about what you’d like to change but it’s impossible to change big things in your life in a day. January should be a month of transition, where you psych yourself up to make the change. Then February is the “OK, now I’m really going to do this” month. Then March some other shit comes up and April it’s kind of raining and there’s Easter or Passover and Spring Break so by May you finally get down to making the change. That’s more realistic.

DEB: I like your attitude, kid. I’m gonna start giving myself more credit for the little things I do. Here are some examples of things I have done recently I am very proud of.

1)    I changed the filter in the water purification pitcher (That sounds extremely formal!)

2)    I waxed my face!

3)    I went to the Urologist!

4)    I found the doggie surprise! (I’m not going to go into great detail here because of the great respect I have for you, dear reader. Let’s just say I dealt with it accordingly. The surprise not the doggie, now think no more of it.)

5)    I really cleaned the coffee maker. This is not a euphemism. I just really cleaned the coffee maker.

Well, that’s it for now, but there is always next year.

PETE: Impressive list but I changed two light bulbs the other day. I hear CNN is going to nominate me for one of their CNN heroes in 2017. Why do we put so much pressure on ourselves to be better people when we know we will never compete with truly good people? Those CNN heroes are incredible. They’re so selfless and committed to making people’s lives better. They make Mother Theresa look like Vladimir Putin. Also, speaking of Halloween, little known fact, for her last Halloween, Mother Theresa went as Vladimir Putin.

DEB: If only Vladimir would dress up like Mother Theresa we’d be getting somewhere!

Mother Theresa said, “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.” I like that. I can get my mind around that.

PETE: Well if we’re talking about inspiring quotes Vladimir Putin once said, “The arc of history bends towards justice.” No, wait that was Martin Luther King, Jr. Putin said, “If you cross me, I poison your sushi.” Same diff

DEB: Message received. Cancel my Dragon Roll. I wonder if a hundred years from now the term “a great quote” will be replaced by “a great tweet”. Someone once tweeted, “America great again, CIA bad, Putin BFF, Crooked Media, Exxon -Amazing Environmentalist, The Mentalist – best show ever!”

PETE: Well, I thought that was Donald Trump you were referring to but that part about The Mentalist made me think again. Was it Simon Baker, star of The Mentalist? I guess we’ll never know. Damn, I wish I was a mentalist. Then I could read your mind. Or whatever is it that guy does on The Mentalist. What does he do?

DEB: I think he solves crimes using his intuition? I’m not sure. I just always loved the title of that show. It seems so high class. I never watched it because it seemed a bit above my station. You know, at Downton Abbey I’d be more of the scullery maid than the Lady’s Maid. Although on Halloween I did dress as a Lady’s Maid! Maybe my self worth is slowly getting better! America is great again! Next year- a Footman!

PETE: Yeah, how come everyone doesn’t measure their “progress” as a human being by the evolution of their Halloween costume? “I used to dress up every year like a hobo but now I go as the Monopoly Man! I’ve really made it!” Maybe we should be making simple, more achievable resolutions like “This year I’m going to watch The Mentalist.” Or even easier, “This year I’m going to Google The Mentalist and find out what it’s about.” I think we’d be much happier.

DEB: Yes! Aim low. Reach for the stars but assume your arms are going to fall off. Wait – don’t quote me on that. I never was good at coming up with quotable sayings. My Mom had some good ones like if you were complaining she’d say, “Just be thankful you have two arms and two legs!” Or if you were telling a sad story that she didn’t think was so sad she’d say, “Well let me get out the violins!” I simply must try to be more quotable! Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin seemed to have a lot of good quotes like “I like France” and “How can I get myself electrocuted?” I forget who said what.

PETE: Those guys are tough to keep separate. One of them said, “Wow! You’re the best French Prostitute I’ve ever slept with” and one of them said “Wow! You’re the best slave I’ve ever slept with”. I forget who said what. Too bad they didn’t have Twitter back then or we’d have a record of who said and thought what at any given moment. And what they thought of The Mentalist. That’s been on CBS for almost 250 years!

DEB: It’s the only reason the country hasn’t fallen under British rule. Wait – isn’t the Mentalist British?

PETE: Oh my god… He… is? Honestly I have no idea. He’s either British or Australian. Or South African. Or New Zeelandish. Or American.

SUDDENLY SIMON BAKER, THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST, ENTERS

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST: I’m actually from Australia. I was born in 1969 in Launceton, Tasmania but I grew up in New South Wales. In 1998 I married Australian actress Rebecca Rigg after five years of living together. We have three children. In July 2009 I told PopMatters that I was raised Catholic but I’m now agnostic.

PETE: Oh my god. How do you know all that? Is it your Mentalist powers?

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST: No. It’s all right there on my Wikipedia page.

PETE: But you used your powers to know all that info would be on there. Amazing…

DEB: Are you the Tasmanian Devil?

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST: No, that is a carnivorous marsupial of the family Dasyuridae, now found in the wild only on the Australian island state of Tasmania.

PETE: Holy shit. Your powers are incredible.

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST: Do you not have Wikipedia here or something?

PETE: Hey Simon Baker, the actor who plays the Mentalist, how’s making The Mentalist going?

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST: Well actually the show ended its run in 2015.

PETE: No way. How did you know that? You must have gotten that off Wikipedia, right?

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST STARES AT PETE ANGRILY.

DEB: How can it be ended? We never even got to see it?! What kind of mentalist mind game are you playing at Mr. Mentalist, if that is your real name!

SUDDENLY BEN FRANKLIN ENTERS

BEN FRANKLIN: Did someone say French Prostitute?!

PETE: Yeah but like 5 minutes ago. Get out of here, Ben Franklin.

BEN FRANKLIN: Damn. I missed it! (TO SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST) I’m a huge fan.

BEN FRANKLIN LEAVES.

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST: Anyway… I’m going to leave now. I’ve got to wax my face and go to the urologist.

DEB: Happy New Year!

SIMON BAKER THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS THE MENTALIST LEAVES

PETE: Damn it! I forgot to ask him if he had made any New Year’s resolutions. I’m the worst…