#I've been thinking about how we deal with grief. and these four made some lovely examples on how to move onwards

[xxpectrum]

Love perseveres, you will meet once more

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As always, rbs are greatly appreciated!

#critical role #critical role fanart #cr 3 #orym #orym of the air ashari #will of the air ashari #bells hells #ahh im so close to 100 of u guys <3 #I've been thinking about how we deal with grief. and these four made some lovely examples on how to move onwards #big moon little moon #my art #artists on tumblr

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the Comics: Writing a legend, building a history.

Today we aren't reviewing an issue of Moon Knight. Today we are going to talk about something important.

So who wrote Moon Knight?

"Easy!", you might say. "Doug Moench!"

Sure. But you'd be surprised to find that it's not as much as you'd think.

Doug Moench wrote issues 1-15, 17-26, 28-33.

He returns in 1998 for a 4 issue mini seires Vol 3 "Resurrection Wars" which revives Marc Spector, who had been killed off in the previous volume.

He continues in 1999 with Vol 4, another 4 issue mini series "High Strangers/Strangeness" which won an award for favorite limited series.

He also wrote werewolf by Night, which gave us the first iteration of Moon Knight. An instantly popular character that made appearances in other comics like "The Hulk" before he was given his own comic.

He had time to work on the designs with Bill Sienkiewicz. They built up the weapons, the costume, the cab, and the copter.

He also built up the side characters of Gena, Gena's two boys, Crawley, Frenchie, Detective Flint, and Marlene.

He set the ground rules:

Moon Knight system is Jewish.

Marc, Jake, and Steven are a part of a system and are not one man pretending to be someone else

Jake is the one that is friendly and loves being with the people.

Steven is posh, collected, and takes care of things.

Marc is the one with experience, has the skills needed to get things done, and holds all the pain.

They are former Mercenaries who did terrible things and have deep guilt.

Khonshu resurrected them to act as Moon Knight

They strive to protect any who would come to them for help that perhaps might not get it elsewhere

I would even argue that he was building up to the fact that Moon Knight himself was his own form of alter but it has since been glossed over and replaced with the idea that Marc is most often the one under the mask.

Pretty simple rules to follow to make it a Moon Knight comics, but you'd be surprised what some writers have done with it.

These comics were written long before DID was acknowledged and the different forms of PTSD and Dissociation were defined.

And yet, here we stand with a traumazied man from Chicago slowly working through a freshly cognizant system and trying to figure out how three (four) people can work together towards not just a life, but life as a superhero who wants to help people.

Further more, an odd thing happened in this.

We had a comic that often focused more on mental health than on super powers, heroics, or villains.

More often than not, we watched Marc, Jake, and Steven struggle with themselves and one another. We watched stories unfold from the villain's point of view, often just being ordinary people pushed too far by a system that failed them.

More so, we watched Moon Knight sympathise with these villains.

How often he let them walk away or he let them kill their abusers, wondering if he was doing wrong himself.

How can he help when sometimes the help he offers is not what is needed?

We even watched him fail. We saw him lose his temper and cause damage. We saw him curl into a ball and break. We saw him get lost in his own nightmares and dissociative fuges.

Moench stepped forward and often handled current events with raw emotion. We saw his characters cry over the loss of public iconic figures. We watched people struggling as they returned from war. We saw child abuse and poverty. We watched economic struggles with classism and we watched people struggle to deal with grief.

We even watched them deal with antisemitism over and over again. How many times were the victims of his stories Jewish and trying to survive in America? What about the story that took place with the mass shooting in the Synagoug? We heard stories of Generational trauma as elders struggled with survival after the Holocaust.

Moon Knight was a unique comic unlike any other I've ever come across. For it's time and for it's topics at the time. What's more, this comic continued.

It was no 'special of the week' comic and spanned multiple years as they grew.

What do we know about Moench? Who did he write this comic for?

The Moon Knight in the Were Wolf by Night certainly didn't have all this depth. He was just a man dressed in silver, fighting a monster and ultimately choosing the side of the monster.

Moench himself was from Chicago. He knew what it was like to live in the city and see the fall of factories and hard times on the streets. We know he witnessed the times of Vietnam veterans being forgotten and abused. He witnessed a lot of changes happening in the world and the places he was writing about.

He wrote about what spoke to him and what he saw around him.

And in his stories, there often were no clear heroes, winners, or villains.

But there was one issue that he chose to add into this comic that was already filled with so many things that other comics avoided.

Moon Knight wasn't written as Jewish in that one shot cameo. He wasn't written with DID either, but I'll get to that.

There are interviews of Doug admitting that "I didn't say, 'I'm going to sit down and create a Jewish character.'"

In fact, he picked a name and later found out it was a Jewish name. This made him do research. Not just into Judaism, but into the areas that Marc Spector fought in and where his family came from.

Do you have any idea how many writers of that time and our current time simply slap the label of "Jewish" on a character and refuse to actually look into what makes them Jewish?

I can't say how much he researched and how much he got wrong or right, but I do know that when he did choose to dive into topics that touched on certain issues, he handled them with a grace that is often overlooked.

The writer that came after Moench? Alan Zelenetz, a former Jewish day school principal from Brooklyn.

Zelenetz had been acting as an editor for a bit before he took a look at Moench's early start.

And it was in Issue 37 and 38 where we get the real backstory of Marc Spector. A man running from his Rabbi father.

Marc now became the son of an Orthodox Rabbi who had been forced to flee Czechoslovakia after the Nazi invasion.

Here, we get the story of Marc running to the Marines. Running to the mercenaries, and running from home. Perhaps even, running from G-d.

Zelenetz wanted to lean into the Jewish past and Jewish story. He explored themes of using a holy book to create a villain while playing with Jewish myths. He also explored Antisemitism without toning it down or hiding it under comic bookish villainy. He portrayed Moon Knight facing white supremacist vandalizing a Jewish Cemetery. He showed Moon Knight saving the Torah from a Synagogue fire. He also showed a strained relationship and the question of Moon Knight finding his own relationship in what he does with his father's views.

Alan Zelenetz edited/wrote shorts for issues 18, 21–22, 27, 32, Then wrote the whole story for issues 36–38.

Zelenetz voiced that he was looking to add some Jewish representation into his workforce and perhaps into the comic industry at the time. Considering his background, perhaps he was the only one at the time that had the proper knowledge to play with things the way that he did in the story of Elias Spector's death and Marc Spector's pain.

He did not stick around with Moon Knight for long after. Though, he admits that he wanted to play with the fact that Khonshu was an Egyptian god and Marc was from such a Jewish background. I am sad we didn't get to see that story.

After that, Moon Knight's original 1980s run was finished. The question of what to do with Moon Knight, where to take him, and who would take up the mantle of writing him now lay in the hands of Marvel.

Many failed after this. They failed to keep the heart of what Moon Knight stood for and who Moon Knight was. His Jewishness was forgotten and his mental health became a joke.

Not to say all of them failed. There are a few shining stars that gleamed in the darkness and I like to think that it was these moments that kept Moon Knight going all these years.

Moench didn't set out to write a story about mental health, and yet his approach is the most real I've seen. Hardly a shining picture of perfect representation, there is still something there in watching the character almost seem to push back against the unintended desire to push him into a corner.

No matter how often Jake and Steven and Moon Knight were seen as Marc pretending to be someone else, there was always ALWAYS that correction. Always that push back.

Call it the writer's curse of characters misbehaving and taking on a life of their own, but perhaps there was something more there. Perhaps he felt the weight of time and cry of the suppressed and overlooked.

So many of his stories danced the line of "I can't say it because it will get edited out by the big wigs at Marvel, but if you would just look... Just look over here for just a moment..."

And years upon years later, a writer did see the whispers there and said "I see the story of pain. I see the cry of mental health." Lemire told the story that Moench couldn't and from that, we are still pushing forward with McKay.

And more, perhaps we will see the Jewish story that hides in all that also get a spotlight again.

In the era of big battles, cross-over events, explosions, and super villains cackling about domination... I still look back at Stained Glass Scarlet, The Druid, the Music Box, And Colloquy.

As I finish the original 1980s run, I brace myself to dive into what comes next.

I think I'm trying to find where and how the original run ventured so far into the dark and insulting territory it did and the journey back into a revival that now means so much to so many.

In a way, perhaps it mirrors a journey into our own mental health. How easy it is to become lost in what everyone around you tells you that you are and how you are supposed to be until your own doubt sets in to drown you. Perhaps it is the journey of Moon Knight's character emerging from this to find a path to healing that is what kept us here so long.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #Analyzing the comics #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #Steven Grant #Doug Moench #Moon Knight is Jewish #Moon Knight has DID #A system of hope #I'm rambling again #But this is important to me

[hard-core-super-star]

rubix's masterlist

disclaimer: don't forget to read the warnings on each individual fic [minors do not interact with my smut fics]

kate bishop

come back home...(i'm afraid of disappearing) aka kate comes home after a rough night out patrolling the city to find you waiting for her. despite the argument the two of you had earlier in the day, you do everything in your power to comfort your girlfriend.

i think i love you still aka you've spent four years trying to understand the complicated mess of thoughts that make up kate bishop. after dealing with the pain of her absence, and the more significant pain of her return, you finally get it right.

my ears fill with the sound of you kneeling [SMUT] aka you and your girlfriend explore a slightly unconventional form of comfort after you catch her slipping into her self-destructive tendencies again.

no such things as good grief aka you always knew being a superhero came with a long list of dangers but it turns out you weren't quite ready to deal with someone else suffering for your mistakes.

you can see it with the lights out aka enduring a storm and a subsequent power outage with kate bishop by your side might not be the worst thing in the world.

bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire [SMUT] aka a failed mugging leads to you discovering kate's biggest secret...and her finding out yours.

can you see right through me? aka you're notoriously bad at archery and somehow even worse at keeping yourself together around a certain kind-eyed archer.

for your love, i'll do whatever you want [SMUT] aka omega heats are incredibly unbearable, thankfully kate knows just what to do to make you feel better.

i'm all skeleton and melody aka kate calls for backup when she realizes how underprepared she is to help you deal with your grief over losing may.

searching for redemption [SMUT] aka a multiversal anomaly grants you and your girlfriend the opportunity to explore some of your more...intense desires.

i wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters [SMUT] aka things take a surprising turn when kate's alternate self shows up in the middle of an ongoing [slightly public] battle between you and your archer.

what your hands were made for [SMUT] aka kate ruins a cute moment by getting a little too excited about you wearing her hoodie.

make you mine this season aka a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

kissing in the crossfire aka you and kate are better off apart. unfortunately, you can't stay away from each other long enough to realize some puzzle pieces aren't meant to fit together.

caught myself aka kate's competitiveness gets in the way of her seeing you for who you truly are.

hailee steinfeld

frequency of all we know... aka you and your girlfriend share an intimate moment during the Vanity Fair afterparty.

it's you that i've been missing aka a quiet morning with hailee leads to an invitation to move in with her…and the creation of her new song.

coming up for air aka when you're drowning under the weight of your thoughts, hailee becomes the life jacket that keeps you afloat.

sneaking out into town, holding hands, just killing time. aka amidst the chaos of the across the spider-verse press tour, and the unavoidable PR stunts she has to do to cover up your relationship, your girlfriend finds comfort in you.

guess we lied [SMUT] aka you and your ex had sworn you would never let each other back into each other's bed. it looks like you both lied.

karma is the girl on the screen coming straight home to me aka having to do interviews with your girlfriend comes with its own set of challenges. thankfully, you always have each other's back.

stars by the pocketful aka going to crappy award shows was never something you found enjoyable. lucky for you, your girlfriend takes it upon herself to change that.

my thoughts will echo your name aka you meet your biggest crush at a party and let her slip past your fingers. thankfully, your feelings aren’t as one-sided as you thought.

remind me i'm alive aka your day off takes a sudden turn when your best friend's sister decides to finally make a move after silently pining after you for far too long.

honeycomb aka you decide to let your kids help you bake a cake for your wife and cute chaos ensues.

shock to your system aka your move to new york isn't as panic-free as you would have hoped but thankfully, your girlfriend knows just what to do to help.

with friends like you, who needs friends? aka you had always said relationships weren't for you but a certain brunette seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

meet me there, i'll give you your roses aka just because you two are supposed to be keeping your relationship a secret doesn't mean you can't have some fun with it.

one step forward, three steps back aka when hailee tries to convince you to ride the publicity wave and appear in her new music video, you’re forced to accept the truth of your feelings for her.

deep blue, you painted me golden aka the ups and downs that come with secretly dating under the watchful eye of the media prove to be too much for you and hailee...so you decide to come up with a solution yourselves instead of giving in to the chaos.

keep on coming back for more aka you don't really like surprises...unless they involve a certain brunette and your favorite song.

get her back! aka you and hailee try to get your relationship back on track while shooting the sunkissing music video. it’s easier said than done though, especially since the line between love and hate blurs more and more every day.

sinking deeper into you [SMUT] aka your girlfriend is the sweetest person you've ever met and yet you can't help but try to get her out of her shell for a night.

the sweetest torture one could bear aka when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

like words left unsaid aka hailee can't ever seem to keep her eyes off of you and you can't really complain about that.

my rotten mind and how much it worships you aka you and hailee slowly figure out your feelings for each other and start to do something about them instead of arguing.

you're my morning sun aka a look through your fondest memories featuring your wife and the chaos that comes with forming a family.

is it cool that i said all that? aka doing interviews with your girlfriend is all fun and games until someone gets too comfortable with their questions.

a kiss to every scar [SMUT] aka hailee sets out to show you the ropes of acting on a tv show...unfortunately, your very obvious crush on her distracts her enough to stop being so professional.

make every mistake aka you run into your ex at the vanity fair party, almost a full year after your breakup, and are forced to accept some hard truths.

yelena belova

passive-aggressive magic tricks aka a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

wanda maximoff + natasha romanoff

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [SMUT] aka your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

carol danvers

bare your soul 'til it's naked [SMUT] aka you and carol experiment with switching up your usual roles and accidentally discover something new.

#masterlist

[lovelyelbowleech]

Hello! I'm a major War Crimes/Games fan, and a you fan in general. I am currently working on a fic and have run into a couple problems and I wondered if it would be alright if I asked you some questions? I just really love your writing—I think your pacing and handling of heavy/big topics is done soooo well and I would love any tips you've got to share.

How do you approach/handle pacing and timelines in a story? I always struggle with the balance of taking my time and not rushing to the point but also not taking too long and becoming boring or redundant. In War Crimes, especially while they're on the boat, I love the pacing of everything and would appreciate any tips you have.

I am also writing about a story that deals with a lot of further trauma for the Gaang and healing. I'm just wondering how you kind of decided on the events that were going to happen? I have multiple paths that tempt me but can't decide because I'm too scared of minimising trauma by zooming through it, while also being too scared of delving too deeply and having it turn into "trauma porn" or something like that.

So sorry for this crazy long question/ramble piece of shit, but I've been stuck on these problems for a while and thought I'd ask you since I admire your writing so much. Also apologies for any errors I am shit at proofreading (aka. I don't). Also no pressure if you don't answer these lol.

ANYWHO, thank you and love your stories!

Questions are always welcome! (although it might take me a while to answer while I think my way through 😂) Sorry for the delay, been a busy few days.

I am glad you are enjoying my fic! I am not a trained writer or anything, so I’m not sure how good my advice would be, but I can tell you about how I worked on those points in my own stuff.

1. Timelines and pacing

Because my fic is kind of running parallel to canon, and some things that happen in the show, still happen in the fic, I use that as a base for my timeline. Then I work everything out on a week to week basis, so I know where everyone needs to be (geographically as well as plot wise) at the end of each week.

I knew that War Crimes was going to take place over one aprox month, so I divided it into four weeks, and made sure all the major 'events' I needed to happen fit into those chunks - or that the passage of time was mentioned so it didn't seem like it was happening over too short a period.

War Games is far bigger and more complicated as there are so many people, but I still mark out each week, so at least I know what's happening in that chunk of time. There are still some canon events that need to match up (Day of Black Sun for example) so I have a rough idea of how long I have to make things happen before we get to that point.

The pacing (both good and bad) just comes from that and the occasional cliffhanger.😅

2. Trauma

When I started plotting War Crimes, I knew what I wanted the impact for the characters to be by the end of the fic. I knew what was going to happen to Zuko, and that what happens to Sokka was going to be very bad, but I had not really decided what those things were. I did a fair bit of research to make sure everything was actually survivable given their circumstances (although I will also use poetic licence where necessary) then I went with what I needed for plot and for the impact on Sokka's character I needed for it.

I had some stuff 'on screen' but deliberately chose to have the more detailed parts from the POV of a person not actually experiencing them (Taiji POV when Sokka is caned, for example.) Those parts that were from the POV of the person being hurt were more brief.

I guess my overall advice for writing trauma would be to consider how you think this character would react to the traumatic event, both generally and given the situation they are in and what you need from them to further your plot.

There is no right or wrong answer, everyone responds differently to trauma and grief (although some research helps give some scope). But you would need to consider the situation they are in and what you want to show of it. For example, in War Crimes, Zuko suffers a massive trauma that could be debilitating. It's the sort of thing that could cause a person to become overwhelmed and not be able to function, but if he did that in this instance, he would end up being killed there. The way I chose to write it was that the need to survive supersedes anything else for him and he represses and moves forward. They are constantly in dangerous situations, which means he doesn't really get a chance to just fall apart. (although this would also be a reasonable reaction to write, if that is what you want to show.)

Then you need to write the person dealing with what has happened, or begining the road to healing (or not, as you please) The way I chose to write this is to not make the trauma the sole characteristic for the person. It has an impact, and influences a person's behaviour and even outward personality (Like Zuko pre and post scar) but it doesn't have to be the only thing that they think/talk about.

The other thing I try to do when I write, is include some lighter moments and humour along with the dark. It's what I like reading, so made sense to write the same way 😂

Not sure if that actually answered your questions or not, I think I went off on a bit of a tangent, sorry for the waffling!

Overall I would say just write it and see what happens!

Thank you for the ask!

#warcrimes #wargames #allsfair #ficasks #myvainsaints

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Pt 15

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of past abusive relationship, swearing

Length: 1.2k

Notes: Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, keep the story rollin’. More plot, lack of smut, surprise guests, it’s all coming together now I promise. Since tags don’t work for me, like AT ALL, I’m going to attempt a posting schedule! Which is laughable if you know how I story-board. Every Tuesday night at 7pm MDT

Series Masterlist

You needed to get laid.

No, not just laid. You needed to get fucking dicked down. 

You needed it so hard and rough that you couldn't walk the next day. 

It had been seven weeks. Seven weeks without an orgasm.

Sure, you'd tried to get off on your own fingers but after the delicious stretch from manual-labour-thickened digits how could yours ever compare? You had gone so far as to order a vibrator, something you’d never even consider for fear of getting caught, but your body always stalled out just on the cusp of an orgasm. 

You needed Frankie and you were going to get him,

Date night was back on the table, and hopefully, you'd be getting railed on said table before the end of the night. Frankie had been very reserved when you'd brought up the idea of a sleepover for Annie, but once Jacquie had assured him for the fifth time that she knew how to take care of children, seeing as she had four of them herself, he had agreed.

The scheduled day had arrived, legs were shaved, an amazing meal was cooked, and a sweet little babydoll dress was purchased that you knew would drive him crazy. You even went the extra mile and set up your old record player and had Johnny Cash crooning at you from the living room.

Finishing the final touches, you surveyed the table setting, trying to decide between using your nice plates to complete the aesthetic or just putting down plastic so you could sweep the table clear and mount your boyfriend on it without fear of broken ceramic. 

Finally deciding on the first option, presentation is everything after all, you were digging through your china cabinet when the doorbell rang. How formal of him, you thought to yourself, glad he was playing along with the unspoken mood you'd set for the night.

Opening the door, your gaze widened a comical amount and your jaw went slack. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared you for this.

"Close your mouth dear, before the flies get in."

"MOM?!"

It really shouldn't have shocked you, knowing the woman as well as you did, that she would show up unannounced like this. Ever since you'd let it slip that you and Frankie were in a relationship she'd been dropping hints that a visit was due, and you, not wanting to deal with her, had been blatantly changing the subject every time.

Then, Frankie had to go and tell her that an adorable little girl was now involved? That's not something she could ever resist, even if it wasn't exactly being offered to her.

Finally coming to terms with the fact that you weren't going to get railed tonight, and instead would be spending your week fending off your mother's well-meaning but entirely outdated advice, you opened the door wider and welcomed her into your home.

"Where's Dad?" You ask, glancing behind her onto the porch, noting a distinct lack of other vehicles. "Did you get a cab here?!"

"Sweetie, honestly, you know I don't like to drive and he doesn’t like to leave home," came her answer from your dining room where she was already adjusting your place settings to her standards. "Besides I wasn't sure how long you'd need me here for so I decided to fly and will just borrow your truck if need be."

So matter-of-fact, as if it was the simplest notion in the world, and said with such nonchalance, your mouth was back to hanging open again from the sheer audacity of the woman.

"Mom, no, wait, what?" You were floundering, completely at a loss for words. "Why would I need you here right now? I needed you when I was young, dumb, and blindly in love with Brad. I needed your guidance and concern when I was being manipulated-"

"Oh come on-" she tried to interrupt you with a wave of her hand.

"No! You keep trying to tell me he wasn't that bad but you weren't there. You didn't hear how he talked to me, how he treated me." You were over your shock, residual hurt and betrayal were now rearing their ugly heads. "Don't you shake your head at me! How dare you chose his side over mine! I was your daughter, your little girl," the words were getting stuck in your throat now, burning so hot with emotion you could almost see the pain they were inflicting as they landed on her ears. "and you chose to ignore the signs, the cries for help. You were only there for me when he died, but even then it was just to send your regards!"

"We really didn't know..." she answered in a small voice, so quiet it barely registered through the roaring in your ears.

"Denial, maybe? I don't think we could bear the thought of anything but a fairytale being true, so we willfully ignored the signs." She waited for a beat, probably giving you time to yell back at her but when you stayed silent she continued, "I don't think it truly sank in just how badly you'd been treated until you moved away. We thought quitting college was you just deciding you wanted to start a family. Then when you stopped calling friends and family, we hoped it was because you were making new ones. Then your weight loss and depression we blamed on infertility, and then again from the grief of his death." Lifting your head up and wiping away the tears that had streaked your cheeks, she smiled sadly at you while tears fell from her own eyes. "I'll never forgive myself."

"How could you not?" You sobbed, letting yourself sink onto a dining room chair.

Your mom tentatively made her way over to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and hugging your head to her stomach.

"Oh, Mom," you couldn't finish the sentiment, but you didn't need to. Springing up, you enveloped each other in a tight hug and rocked back and forth until the tears dried and your breathing was almost back to normal, save for the occasional hitch and sniffle.

Breaking apart, you were just about to ask if she wanted some tea when the front door flew open.

"Where's my pretty pus- oh! Oh."

"Frankie," you said calmly while your eyes screamed ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME at him, "this is my mother."

"So this is the handsome face behind that gruff voice!" God bless Margot and her ability to ignore the obvious, sometimes it actually came in handy. "And I suppose he's the second place setting for a lovely night I seem to have interrupted."

"Oh, no, Mom it's okay-"

"Nonsense! I'll check myself into the sweet little bed and breakfast I've booked for the week and see you both tomorrow!"

"It is nice to see you, Mom," you admitted, finding yourself meaning the words more than you expected to. "I'll meet you in town tomorrow and show you around?" Maybe having her here for a while would be nice, if the week went as well as tonight had, your relationship with her would be salvaged.

"You really don't need to do that, you just got here!" Frankie tried to reassure her, having noticed the red, swollen, tear-streaked faces and assuming there was unfinished conversation to be had.

You knew your mom was immovable once she had made up her mind, however, so you just followed her to the door and handed her her coat and your truck keys.

"Marvelous!" She pats your hand in thanks before a sly smile quirks her mouth up to the side and she winks, "Have a good night, Pretty Pussy!"

Part Sixteen

#frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #fankie catfish morales x f!reader #frankie catfish morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #fix'er upper

[iamverysmall-andihavenomoney]

Finding Out That Their Career is Over

Haikyū!! Masterlist

Pairing(s): Oikawa Tōru x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Talk of knee injuries, angst,

A/N: Apparently, I just love giving Oikawa knee injuries.

If the pain hadn’t been enough, here he was, stuck in a rehabilitation program. With a few more months, his knee was looking towards a recovery, or at least, that’s what the doctors had told him, at first.

   The pain was bearable, in his opinion. If he had his way, he’d have been back to the team, as soon as he’d recovered. But his doctors, nor his teammates would allow that. Most of all you, the lover who’d been with him, every step of the way, wouldn’t allow him to continue playing, until he was given an ‘okay’ by the doctors.

   Watching him shakily stand from the seat beside yours, in the doctor’s office, you allow him to gently grasp your shoulder, to stabilize himself. He’d only just gotten off of his crutches a month ago, and after four months of dealing with them, he was relieved.

   Tōru sends you a grateful smile, leaning over and gently kissing your temple, “Thank you, Y/N,” he whispers, moving his hand so he can place his arm gently over your shoulders, walking with him towards the office.

It had taken him a while to get used to putting some of his dependence on you. Tōru was an independent person. So getting used to having to place his hand on your shoulder to get up, to having to have you help him do mundane things like get up in the morning, to get into the shower, to get the bulky brace on, every morning... It was hard. He was trying to get used to it, he truly was. But going from an Olympic level athlete to, in his opinion, a below-average man who needed to depend on everyone around him, wasn't something that happened overnight.

Making it back to the room, you move to sit in the seat next to the small, plastic and paper encased bed where the patients were supposed to sit, while Tōru moves to take a seat on the bed. His legs hang over it, spread open a bit to allow his hands to rest in between his thighs, fingers picking lightly at his nails - a habit both of you had thought he'd dropped a long time ago.

Reaching over, you grasp the hand closest to you, giving it a gentle squeeze. Brown eyes shift to you and soften at the sight of your reassuring expression. Bringing your hand to his lips, he gently kisses each of your fingertips. "I love you."

   You tilt your head, "I love you too, Tōru."

The wait for the doctor to come in only worsened Tōru’s steadily growing anxiety. Long digits fiddle with the fabric that keeps his knee supported. If you hadn’t been there to hold his hand through it, you were sure he would have lost his mind, trying to just wait for the doctor to come in.

   Though the anxiety building up in you through the duration of your wait in that little room was nothing compared to the way your stomach dropped, when the doctor entered the room. His expression was near emotionless, despite the smile plastered on his old, wrinkled face.

   “My boy,” both you and Tōru visibly cringed at the display of unwanted familiarity. You’d both been in this office far too often, recently.

   “Hi, doc!” Despite his own worry, your husband manages to keep a clean face about things. “So, tell me: when am I due to return to volleyball?” He sat on the edge of the table, leaning forward in anticipation... Almost like a child might... You could only hope that there would be only good news, from here on in.

The hope that was filling his expression nearly broke your heart. He wanted to return to volleyball so badly. He deserved to go back. If only the universe wasn't so cruel.

   The mood of the room changed and the smile slipped from the doctor’s features. “My boy, I’m afraid I don’t think that will be possible.”

   Toru’s expression darkens, though it’s only for a moment. “That - That’s not true -... You and Dr.-”

   “While we thought a full recovery was possible,” the older man continues, “After reexamination, we’ve realized that your knee, while you will have the strength to walk again, without any pain, will never be able to handle the type of pressure that your jumps put on it. Even with how remarkable your recovery has gone, thus far... You shattered your patella, Señor Oikawa. You were lucky to have made the recovery you did, as quickly as you did.”

   You couldn’t breath for a moment, just staring at your husband. He’d worked to be on this team, doing what he loved, his entire life. It wasn’t fair that now he found himself not able to play. Watching the way emotions scattered through his features, you swallowed the lump in your throat. If the recovery hadn’t killed him, the grief of losing his entire career and livelihood might.

   Disbelief, anger, denial, terror... The all struck his features faster than he could stop them, leaving him not only feeling lost, but leaving him feeling vulnerable in front of this near stranger. And he hated feeling vulnerable.

But how could he stop these emotions? His whole world came to a stand-still. All of those nights he'd stayed away for hours, before coming home to find you having fallen asleep trying to wait up for him, dinner now cold, on the table; all of those weeks at different training camps, when he wouldn't get to see you for what felt like an eternity; all of those years of perfecting his techniques and making a name for himself... It was all for nothing.

   He wanted to leave. Now.

   Without a word, he shoves himself up from where he was seated, walking haphazardly towards the door. He’s swinging it open by the time you can stand up and take the steps to reach him. “Don’t touch me.” His voice holds a bite you weren’t used to as he turns his back towards you, walking... Or rather, limping, away from the room.

   You frown and turn to face the doctor, offering an apology and asking him to send the medical bill to your residence. Then, you take off after the tall male.

Making it to your car, you slide into the driver’s side, silent as you turn on the car. You don’t say anything until the car is running, “Tōru, you can’t just-”

“Why can’t I?” He snaps at you, shooting you a withering look, as if you were the cause of his injuries. “Why can’t I lose my temper? Please, give me a reason, Y/N. Please tell me why I can’t act the way I want to, when my life is in pieces."

"Since you seem to know so goddamn much, please tell me why I can't lose it. I've waited my entire life, only to fall just short of the Olympics? What good am I if I can't even do that?" Tōru wasn't made. It was upset, call it heart-broken, if you will. But all he could find himself doing was lashing out in anger, kicking his bad leg out to his the glovebox of your car.

Pain courses through his knee, making his let out a pained noise as he slowly sinks down into his seat. "I fucked it all up... I'm never gonna be..." He lets out a shaky breath. "I'm never going to make it. I should have fucking known, I-"

"Tōru, I love you, but shut up." Your tone makes watery eyes shift to you. "You are not going to sit here and tell yourself that you're useless and push me away." You grab his hand and lift it up, "You see these rings? Through hell and high water, Tōru. That's what we promised one another. You made it here. This is a setback, but it doesn't mean your career is over, with volleyball. Let's just... Go home. You can get mad, scream, hit the wall or something, whatever you need to. Then we can sit down and talk about what's next.

"I love you... You are going to make it through this. And I'm going to be here with you, every step of the way. Understood?"

Your husband lets out a shaky exhale, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I understand. I'm sorry I yelled at you," he slowly puts his head on your shoulder.

You could tell by the way his lip quivered that he was trying to hold it all in. But what good would that do?

Sliding back the center console you shift so he can lean into your embrace. No words are spoken as loud sobs begin to rip through his body. His lean form shakes against you as he cries. His sobs break your heart, though you couldn't imagine the pain he was in, at the moment.

His sobs didn't quiet for a while, in fact, as you soothed a hand through his soft hair, he only seemed to sob harder, almost as if he thought he'd disappointed you. Though, as he wore himself out, his sobs slowly quieted into soft whimpers. No matter if his sobs had quieted down or not, you weren't moving until he said something.

"I wanna go home."

That was all it took, before you were both back in your seats, on your way back to your shared home. You weren't sure how long it would take Tōru to be okay, again, or if he ever would be. But you'd fallen in love with him and made your vows. He's the love of your life and you promised that you would see him through it, to the end.

General Taglist:

@thathoneybee3 @bratkugo

#🤍.suna #tōru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa tōru #saffrons works

[caranfindel]

Episode recap/review: Walker 1.14

I didn't expect to recap 1.14 and yet here I am, still avoiding my unfinished Summergen fic. I'm actually writing this in real time, as I watch the episode. So for once I'm not pretending I don't know what happens. I literally don't know.

We begin with Cordell and Grandpa clearing up the crime scene. How much do I love Cordell saying "Daddy?" A lot. And not in that way, you perverts. It just really brings out the Texan.

Liam is in bed, recuperating. He gets a call (note that he calls himself William professionally, which is news to me, and I like it for whatever reason) from someone asking for a comment, which he starts to angrily refuse before Gramma Walker grabs his phone and hangs up. Gramma Walker going all Mama Bear for Liam is also interesting, and unexpected. But Liam says "I can take care of myself" and she says "No, you can't. None of you boys can." And then looks sadly out the window, where Cordell and Grandpa are taking down the crime scene tape. I just have to think "none" and not "both" means she's thinking of poor dead Hoyt, who she obviously loved like a son, if not more so. (More evidence for the Hoyt is her lovechild file? Maybe.)

Geri shows up, wearing an unnecessary cowboy hat and Hoyt's old jacket. She's bearing Hoyt's last will and testament, written on a bar coaster! Oh, my heart. And in case you can't read it:

If I get shivved in the shower or some old horse kicks me upside the head. For real Liam stamp it and everything - I leave everything to Geri/"Geraldine Broussard"/angle [sic] face sweet lips etc. So that plot I bought over in Tanglewood is for her and whatever I got in my pockets or elsewhere. See ya in the next life.

Angle face!

I'm not sure this would stand up in court, since he didn't even sign his last name, although it is witnessed by William Walker. Anyway, it's a moot point, because the land Hoyt intended to give Geraldine "Angle Face" Broussard is transferring to new owners, effective tomorrow. Which makes no sense. The deal fell apart because he died, and yet it's so soon after his death that the police tape is still up. New owners wouldn't be in the picture that quickly. Reverting to previous owners, because it was owner-financed? Sure. But not new owners. (Whatever, Caranfindel. Move it along.) She asks Cordell to go with her to gather his personal belongings. And to bring the kids. Hmmm, let's see how Stella can mess this up. (Tanglewood is 71 miles from Austin. Of course I looked it up.)

But first, Cordell has to sign paperwork to begin his leave of absence. So he didn't actually intend to quit. I mean, we all knew he'd be back, but I kind of thought he was, at the time, intending to quit for good. Does Connie the HR person have a big old crush on him? There is hand touching and deep, serious gazing.

Touch him, Connie. Touch him for those of us who cannot.

Micki is sitting right outside the conference room where he signs his papers but still acts surprised that he's in the building. Did she not smell the rosemary mint shampoo as he walked by? He thanks her for the flowers and apologizes for not calling her back. And then cancels their lunch plans so he can go off with Geri and the kids.

Someone said this on Tumblr, and I think it bears repeating here. It's interesting comparing Cordell's grief, over his wife and now his best friend, to Sam's grief. Cordell is clearly deeply affected, and is also clearly moving on. Sam is just unhinged.

Elsewhere. The gang stops for lunch and reminisces about Hoyt dressed as Santa, wearing assless chaps. Well. That's memorable. (Also, I know people who did the whole leaving horse manure and pretending it's reindeer poop thing. Some people are just a lot more into Santa than I was.) Trevor (Travis? Whatever) called Stella. She's apparently avoiding him. Probably a good call, sis. Maybe the only one you've made in 14 episodes. (To be fair, I didn't watch the first four.)

Micki shares tacos with her boyfriend, whose name I can never remember, having been stood up by Cordell. She tells him Cordell seemed "off," which is great now, Micki. Why didn't you pay more attention to that feeling last week? The BF thinks Micki herself might be off, because she misses her partner. And she calls him family. Captain What's His Face comes to talk to Trey (that's his name, dammit) and asks if he knows a guy who goes to the same physical therapist's office. Friends, when I've done PT, I don't even know people who go to my therapist, let alone just go to someone in the same office. But maybe folks in Austin are just friendlier than they are round these parts. Oh, wait. The guy is missing, and was last seen in a heated discussion with Trey? What's up with that, Trey?

Tanglewood. Cordell asks the nice lady (realtor? owner?) about Hoyt's "personal affects," and she says "they are probably out grazing." Because Hoyt's personal effects are four horses and a llama. Which Geri owns now. "Where am I going to board four horses and a llama?" she asks. Cordell is oddly befuddled (and adorably, cause y'all know how I feel about befuddled Jared), as if he didn't live on a ranch. With horses. The family business, remember? The kids are entranced. I would be too. It's a damn cute llama. One of the mares actually nursed the llama, so they're family. (Watch out for falling anvils.)

Micki's house. Trey says the "heated discussion" was the missing guy showing him a judo move. Captain asks Trey to ride along and help him investigate, and poor partnerless Micki asks if she can come with.

Tanglewood. Apparently Hoyt's personal affects also included gear for the four horses, because everyone is saddled up. Geri doesn't seem like an experienced rider - she keeps her hand on the pommel of the saddle, which I always heard was a rube move. (At least she's not clutching the saddle horn. No shade. It's hard not to. It's a perfect handle and it's just right there.) Cordell, of course, rides perfectly, as he does everything perfectly.

Everything except his job. And raising his kids. But do I care about those things? Not so much.

Geri thinks the llama looks unwell. What is she, a llama expert? A veterinarian? And what are they doing on this trail ride anyway - taking the herd back to the Walker ranch? It's 71 miles away! It's an hour and a half driving! How will they get the truck? Why didn't Cordell just say "let's go back to the ranch and get Daddy's cattle trailer?" WHY.

(No one cares. No one but you thinks about these things.)

Stella is on her phone, but it turns out she's (allegedly) re-reading Hoyt's last text, not chatting with friends. And then she says she was "responsible for everything." Oh, wait. We're going there? Stella is finally going to face the music? Cordell says it's not her fault, but they're interrupted by the llama, who apparently is in distress. Cordell wants to leave him at a random homestead. Permanently? Like, "excuse me, ma'am, but can you take this llama?" Or just while they get the horses home? I dunno.

August doesn't like this, because the llama and the horses are family. Geri distracts him by claiming Hoyt wanted him to have the jacket she's wearing, although I find this rather dubious, because why did she wait so long to mention it? Why is she wearing it herself? It's a lucky jacket he won from a tarot card reader and card hustler named The Mystifying Mehar, who was "infamous for getting out of trouble because of that jacket." Cordell then asks Geri to go off with the kids while he hangs back and tries to ditch the llama. Oh no, Cordell, don't do that. He's family!

Back at the ranch, Grandpa chases off some more journalists. He also ignores Gramma's concern about his cancer.

Trail ride. We skipped the whole bit where Cordell found someone willing to take in a goddamn llama, caught up with his kids, and told them what he did. They're mad that he wouldn't even try, and then Stella impulsively rides off, almost falling into a revine.

Team Sassyboots 2.0 questions the missing guy's wife. Turns out he left a note. Doesn't sound like he's as missing as they thought. He said he would "fix everything," i.e., their upcoming foreclosure. They check his workshop and find evidence that he was a military contractor, and apparently this means he should have no money problems whatsoever, because they don't understand how money works. His gun safe is empty, so they figure he's on some kind of "black ops" job. And if it's going to be complete by Monday, I assume it's something local, and not a military operation.

Walker Ranch. Someone who is Liam's "political opponent" comes to take care of him? And he's bringing barbeque? Is it poisoned? Gramma says Liam can't have barbecue because he's on bedrest, as if one had anything to do with the other. And... Grandpa wants to go mushroom hunting with her? Is that what the kids call it these days?

Trail ride. Cordell found someone to keep the horses. Temporarily? I'm still confused. Stella and Geri talk about Hoyt, and Stella asks about her forgiving him. Thinking about some forgiveness toward your own bad boy, Stella? She says "the two of you were always kind of like the dream to me," which is odd considering they were off-and-on, while her parents were very much on, and definitely seem more like couple goals. But okay. Stella confesses again that she is responsible, and Geri says "you let love in, maybe; that's your worse crime." I wonder if Stella blames herself for the fake truck crash that started the whole domino effect, or if she even realizes that's what happened. Obviously Geri wouldn't. Hmmm, I wonder what August thinks about all this?

Walker Ranch. Whoever this political opponent is, he must be a family friend, because he gave a toast at Cordell and Emily's rehearsal dinner. "Hey, when did your brother have such long hair," he asks, looking at a picture of the happy couple. Liam is growing facial hair again. I like it. Opponent suggests the spicy barbecue will put hair on Liam's chest and Liam tosses it aside and says "no, dammit, after I spent all that time waxing?" And Liam might drop out of whatever race he's in. I don't really care about that part. Let's talk more about Liam's chest.

I love that they can use actual Padalecki family photos as Cordell and Emily photos. No bad Photoshop needed!

Team Sassyboots 2.0. I don't really care about this missing guy either. Skipping it. You know, I understand this is meant to be an ensemble show, and Jared Padalecki and his stupid pretty face and long legs are not going to be in every scene. But Micki working a case with her boss and her boyfriend just bothers me and I don't want to be a part of it.

Trail ride. They're bedding down in the barn for the night? What the fuck? Where are they? Why didn't they just drive home? I'm so confused! Cordell and Geri talk about Hoyt some more. Cordell makes an awkward comment about "us together" and then amends it to mean all of us together, as in you and me and the kids camping right now, not, like, you and me together together, and then does a little eyebrow thing like whoo, good job, talked your way out of that one. NO, CORDELL, YOU ARE NOT AS SMOOTH AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. Anyway. There's a lot of guilt about poor dead Hoyt. Cordell tells Geri her name is still on the Sidestep lease (lease? I thought they owned it?), as if being part owner of a bar is always going to be a good thing, with no liability at all. And they don't kiss, for which I am grateful. The horses are really acting up. I hope nothing's happening.

Cordell checks on the horses and apologizes to the mare for leaving the llama behind. He realizes he made the wrong choice. "You know what," he says. "Let's go fix this."

I adore him.

Walker Ranch. Grandpa and Gramma have been mushroom hunting and are now getting silly. Um, what kind of mushrooms did you two find? And then Grandpa says "tonight's about Hoyt," which I do not understand. "I saw the joy he gave you," Grandpa says. Yes, Grandpa, and do you not find that even a little bit fishy? And then he decides to build something.

Trail ride. Cordell went and retrieved his llama! He is precious. I love him so much. He has some pratfalls in the same ravine that almost caught Stella, and then his family shows up and rescues him. (Can I point out that his "a-ha-ha" laugh is the same one we heard when he opened his gift from Dean in "A Very Supernatural Christmas" and I'm not sure it appeared in any other episode?) August offers the Lucky Jacket to use as a llama harness to haul the little guy out of the ravine. Oh, and it turns out the llama is about to give birth.

And, while I'm skipping Team Sassyboots 2.0, it's hard to ignore that Micki is now in a UFC fight. That might have been an interesting story after all. Y'all can fill me in.

Walker Ranch. They're building a little stable. Because this big horse ranch doesn't have enough stables. Liam, who was bedridden to the point of not being able to eat barbeque yesterday, is now helping build. He gets a text from his former fiance, who wants to talk. And Grandpa has decided to treat his cancer. Happy endings all around!

Micki's house. She says she was passive-aggressive with Walker because she's afraid of losing him. I get it, sweetie. He's someone you don't want to lose.

Trail ride. August is carrying the newborn llama, wrapped in the Lucky Jacket. Geri wants to cut out before they get to the ranch. She's going to ride the bus home? Seriously? Isn't her car at the Walker Ranch? She and Cordell talk abou their unfinished business. Yeah, like the fact she was probably involved in your wife's murder? That unfinished business, Geraldine? Grandpa meets them before they get to the ranch and informs them he has a strict no-llama policy on the ranch. But luckily, he just built an alpaca stable. They’re alpacas, not llamas. So, Geri called him, but how did he know they were alpacas? Did she send pictures? I am so confused. Anyway. The new family goes into their new home. They name the baby alpaca Hoyt, of course.

Little Hoyt, guys, he's the sweetest thing.

Breakfast. Political Opponent gives Liam a contribution. Oh, I get it. They're running for the same office, and he thinks Liam will draw votes away from his other opponent. Shrewd. Stella calls Trevor and says she might need to leave the past behind. And you are the past, Trevor. Cordell sees a truck pull up and runs out to meet Micki. She apologizes for holding a grudge over him leaving. She tries to shake hands and he hugs her instead. She thinks they can just be friends now instead of partners, and he says they're not friends, they're family. And then she oohs and aahs over the alpacas, which she recognizes immediately as alpacas and not llamas, and also points out that little Hoyt is actually a girl. Oops. Awkward. Cordell is surprised she can just tell. "Most people can." Yeah, you are the worst rancher's son ever. Then Cordell sees the fence is carved with a memorial to Hoyt. Aw.

He is also the sweetest thing.

So. Less drama than last week. More warmth. A ridiculous B story that was as annoying as giving Cas his own plot. Will I still watch next week? Yeah, probably. I have questions. How did Grandpa know they were alpacas? Where is the baby daddy? Can Cordell and his rancher father really not tell the difference between a male and female alpaca? Why is Geri riding the bus home, when her car is at the Walker's? Why is she avoiding the Walker Ranch? Will August ever get his own plot again?

It's just a shame that this episode didn't have any shout-outs to Supernatural, like the last one did...

#walker #recap/review #tv recap #1.14 #spoilers

[the-trashy-phoenix]

Supernatural season 2 review (part 2)

Link to part 1:

Irene and I have finished watching Supernatural season 2 (we're already on season 3), so here it comes my review on it. I like this season more than the first one: we already know this supernatural world and have learnt to love the brothers, and since the big bad guy isn't dead yet we want to see what happens next. The plot evolves from the first season, we understand many things we didn't before and it is all suddenly way more interesting (meanwhile I feel like the most interesting thing in the first season were the single episodes). Sam's psychics abilities have a purpose and we learn there's sort of a pattern involving other people, the same age as Sam, who have all the same destiny: to become warriors for an upcoming war. In this season we have the chance to see more of Azazel (the yellow-eyed demon), what he's capable of and what he has done to Sam (and the consequences of it, including how Dean has to deal with all of this, meanwhile being in a terrible position). At the end of the season, even if he's been defeated by John himself, we know Sam is not back to normal (and we also know the truth about Azazel is not totally revealed, since we now know Mary had already met the demon before the night she died).

Season 1 ends with the car accident, so the first thing we see in the first episode of the second season is the brothers and John in the hospital. Dean is almost dead and has no chance of surviving, but John makes a deal with Azazel and dies instead of Dean (sacrificing the colt too). I understand why John would do that (one of the not-many-things I understand about his behaviour), but I also think this is one of the many things he has done that leads to Dean suffering and blaming it all over himself. No wonder why this boy behaves the way he behaves: he has all of this emotional pain he carries with him since he was basically four years old. Of course Dean doesn't talk about his father's death and acts like it's not affecting him, although it does, a lot. Sam's reaction is different, but I think it was very appropriate: the thing is most upset about is the fact that he and his father had never actually gotten along very well and that they had a fight right before John's death. I also think that both brothers haven't had quite the opportunity to grief from their father's death (just be sad for his absence and think about their true feelings for him), because they were to focus on bigger events involving John's last moments with them. Another thing that keeps them occupied is the main problem in this season, Azazel and all that he causes.

There's a thing I forgot about and that, as I rewatched the season, surprised me: Dean already wants to quit hunting. The fact that he is even more fed up than Sam shows us that in reality, as much as he wanted to be like his father and behave like John told him to, he doesn't want to live the life he is supposed to live (and we can also see it in episode 02x20, in which Dean sees what his life could have been without the death of his mother and demonstrates lots of courage by choosing to return to his normal life anyway). Knowing both what Dean wants and all that things that happen later in the other seasons, this makes me very sad.

Since we're speaking of Dean, I was left a bit shocked by his lack of hesitance on killing the people with the Croatoan virus (02x09). I get that he wanted to stop the virus, but they remained people, and of course when Sam gets the virus he doesn't kill him, which is more than understandable, but it also means that he could've at least waited a bit more before killing the others.

Since I've seen all of the other seasons rewatching 02x13 has been pretty funny, especially because of Dean. He keeps telling he doesn't believe in the angels’ crap and, well, we all know he's gonna change his mind. I also like that Sam is still faithful after all he's been through and especially since he's in this position of supernatural-slightly-demonic powers.

Speaking of which, John leaves a message to Dean before dying: if he can't save Sam from his powers he has to kill him instead of letting him become evil. This leads Dean to have two big thoughts hunting him, his supposed duty to kill his brother and his guilt for his father's death. I always feel like all the responsibilities grow on him and I would love it if he could have a way to release these feelings in some ways, but of course he never does it properly. It turns out Sam agrees with his father and tells Dean to kill him, but Dean has no intention of doing it (reasonably). In this season we can see how much Sam is scared of his psychic abilities, almost as if he's scared of turning in a monster (and we can see it clearly in what I think is the saddest episode of the season, 02x17, in which Sam has to kill the girl who turned out to be a werewolf).

I like how the writers have developed the jail theme, having episodes 02x07, 02x12, 02x19, in which the brothers have to face justice for what they've apparently done. The thing I like the most about these episodes is the fact that we know the Winchester have been in trouble with the law for good reasons, it is frustrating (but in a good way) to see the other people mistaking them for the bad guys (till a point they're even called monsters) and we can't even be mad at the cops, because they don't know the truth.

In this season there are introduced some new characters. First of all, I have to mention the trickster, not just because he provides the most senseless episode of the season (02x15, which I love), but also because I know his time on Supernatural is not over yet, fortunately. We also meet Ellen and Jo Harvelle, a mother and her daughter who own and manage the Roadhouse, a bar attended mostly by hunters, in which we find another character, Ash. I like all three of them for different reasons. Ash, the one with less screen time, is not as important as the other two, but he gives some funny moments and he's a smart guy (and I like the scene where Dean compliments his hairstyle). Ellen is a sweet and strong woman hurt by the death of her husband and a caring mother who doesn't want her daughter to have the same faith as her father. Jo, my favourite, is a passionate young girl who wants to follow her father's footprints and become a hunter. I honestly like her character a lot and the dynamic she has with dean in season two (end especially how they don't make out the second Dean enter the bar), they care about each other (Jo probably more than Dean does for now) and I love the fact that he has a girl in his life he doesn't just want to fuck (or viceversa), but who he can also kinda rely on. The only thing I don’t really get is the way she treats him after she finds out her father was with John when he died during a hunt (and that John was probably a part of what caused his death). I understand that she probably thinks (like her mother) that Dean would do the same thing with her, but it’s not like he has already done it, and he actually doesn’t know anything about what happened to her father.

There is also another character who's introduced in the first seasons but who has much more screen time in this one: Bobby Singer. He's one of my favourite characters on Supernatural ever and, I mean, who doesn't think it the same way? He's a loving, but also grumpy, old man who can perfectly sostituite John in his father role, indeed he's much better than him. He doesn't treat Sam and Dean as soldiers, but as his children first, and he cares about what troubles them and what inner thoughts they're facing. And that leads us at the end of the season, when Dean has already made the deal with a demon to bring his brother back to life (a thing Dean has condemned before, especially because his father did the same for him, which demonstrated a bit of hypocrisy, even if it's comprehensible). Bobby is mad at him and for good reasons: he understands Dean wanting Sam back and doesn't blame him for it, but what worries Bobby the most is the little (almost non-existent) care Dean reserves for himself. His self esteem (which is talked about more in the third season) seems so low he doesn't even care if he ends up in hell (and that he will in about a year). All he's been good at is being a good soldier and keeping his brother safe, protecting him, so when he faces the fact he hasn't saved Sam he can't live without bringing him back to life, even if that means sacrificing himself in the most terrible way. Sam now has to live with the weight of his brother's death and trip to hell (beside worrying about the upcoming war with the demons who escaped hell), but these are the main themes of season 3.

- Carly 💚

#supernatural #spn #dean #dean winchester #sam #sam winchester #john #john winchester #mary #mary winchester #bobby #bobby singer #ellen harvelle #jo harvelle #ash #azazel #the trickster #trickster #gabriel #castiel #destiel #kinda #not that I mentioned it #there’s subtext even in my review #season 2 #supernatural review #supernatural season 2 review #it’s pretty messy #I’m sorry #supernatural rewatch

[beerecordings]

How do we recognize ableist content like that? I've never been in situations like that, so something that look pretty harmless to me could be in fact quite shitty. I don't want to share stuff like that and be unaware of it, how do I learn?

well thank you for asking!!! but the first thing I’d like to do is make it clear that while I do trust myself to recognize many common ableist errors/choices, I do not pretend to be an authority on this issue any more than anyone else who’s done some research, talked with other people, and worked to recognize things. I need help sometimes too! Also I’d like to reiterate that I am able-bodied and people with disabilities are free to correct me.

The second thing to notice is that SOMETIMES these things are context-dependent. For instance, while I usually gag to see Jameson made into like the son of somebody the same age as him, if you’re actually writing an au where Jameson and maybe another character or two are actually children to another character, that can be pretty cute!!! In that case an adult is not being infantilized and he is not made into a child because of his disability - he’s being made into a child because he’s a literal four-year-old and that’s the premise of the story (and he still can’t talk). Alternatively, maybe Jameson needs extra attention and love and protection from older brothers after a traumatic event - but at some point, that Jameson should begin to regain his independence, should still experience a wide range of emotions, and should not be condescended to about his emotions or ability to function alone. However, please be careful with this… don’t use context to make excuses if you’re actually pulling ableist shit.

I think that list I gave in the post I made is a good (but not comprehensive!) starting point for some of the things to look for that are offensive to people with disabilities (some of these are specific to mutism). Let’s take another deeper look at these points:

Before reblogging something with Jameson in it, for instance, ask yourself - does this infantilize the character?

Is Jameson unable to function alone in society beyond the reasonable limitations we would expect of a person with a disability? Is Jameson babied to a ridiculous degree by the other egos? Does Jameson only experience basic emotions? Does Jameson ever stand up for himself or display “unpleasant” and unromanticized emotions such as anger, desire to isolate, desire for violence, ugly grief and sorrow, etc? Disabled adults are still ADULTS. Don’t treat them like little kids!!! If you want to portray Jameson’s trauma reactions - and you should!! he’s been through a lot!! - make sure this is more complex than just reducing him to a sweet needy baby who needs a hand to hold twenty-four seven. He should have ugly reactions too and be more complex than sad sometimes because he’s disabled and needs more attention. Otherwise you are infantilizing his mutism and romanticizing his trauma.

Does this erase Jameson’s disability completely or partially?

I have had people tell me it’s okay to erase Jameson’s disability because “they just wanted him to have a cute British accent.” I have had people to tell me to “chill out” because it “isn’t a big deal” that people erase his disability. I’ve heard people say “I couldn’t really get into Jameson for some reason, he just wasn’t my favorite character - so I decided to make him my own and give him new powers and let him talk and now I like him a lot!”

FUCK OFF M8

DON’T WRITE HIM IF YOU AREN’T WILLING TO INCORPORATE HIS DISABILITY AND YOU HATE DISABLED CHARACTERS. WHY ARE SOME OF U LIKE THIS. HOW DARE YOU qUITE FRANKLY

DO NOT SUPPORT CONTENT WITH A SPEAKING JAMESON UNLESS ANTI IS ABOUT TO SHOW UP AND CUT THAT BOY’S THROAT OR MAYBE IT’S AN AU WHERE SOMEBODY ELSE HAS THE DISABILITY BUT I’M NOT A HUNDRED PERCENT SURE ABOUT THAT ONE -

When you erase Jameson’s disability, you are telling every disabled person who might come across your writing that there is something wrong with being disabled and that they need to be fixed, as well as warping your own perception of the disabled people you will meet in your life. Do not use magic spells to erase Jameson’s inability to vocalize. Do not just decide you prefer a vocalizing Jamie.

Is this a respectful and accurate representation of a character who cannot vocalize?

If you are not disabled, you probably should not write pieces deeply exploring his relationship with his disability, because you just can’t do it right. I’m tired of seeing people write like ten thousand words of whump about how sad Jamie is about being disabled and how he longs desperately to just be normal like everyone else!! If only he didn’t have to sign!!! And he never seems to make any progress at accepting himself, he never seems to have any righteous anger at the people who treat him like shit, he always seems to let himself be comforted by other people telling him how to perceive himself instead of coming to terms with it with the help of both others and his own internal development. Incorporate his disability, and yes, it’s okay if it upsets him that other people react poorly to his inability to vocalize sometimes, but avoid stories which focus on him dealing with his disability exclusively if you are not disabled. If his disability is the only thing that ever makes him sad or makes him experience a negative emotion, you have fucked up again and you are using his disability for whump points like an asshole instead of seeing him holistically. I get upset sometimes because I see people will get prompts about JJ and it will be like… “job interview!” so they write one where Jameson gets turned down for a job because of a disability or it will be like “mourn!” and it’s about how he mourns his lost voice and “spell!” is about Marvin trying to fix him and just….. I guess it’s okay to write that stuff every now and then, but it’s a BIG RED FLAG if someone takes every single prompt or thought about JJ and makes it about him being sad about his disability.

Is this a respectful and accurate representation of sign language?

Please be aware that Jameson speaks BSL, not ASL! I think most people mess that one up just because they don’t know, not because they’re ableist, so it’s great to spread awareness! If you are writing something about Jamie, though, you really should know. You should also try to learn a little about the way people sign and just do some research! Also, when writing Jameson, be aware of the signing. If he is in another room than Jackie, then remember that Jackie can’t “hear” him. You just forgot he couldn’t talk! Double-check your work or ask someone to beta and this one is avoided easily. Be open to someone pointing out “actually, Jameson couldn’t do that, he was downstairs!” and work to accommodate him.

If I were unable to vocalize, would I be offended by this representation?

Many of us have disabilities of our own. Think about the things that bother you and how they apply to mutism or even other disabilities like Chase’s depression. One thing that always helps me (though I am not in a wheelchair!) is comparing this to people in wheelchairs. Would it be okay for me to write a fic where a person had their legs magically fixed after a lifetime of not being able to walk and then everybody liked them better and they finally found purpose? Would it be okay for me to write ten snippets in a row about how sad they are they can’t walk? Would it be okay for me to just decide they can walk now because I’m annoyed when I have to write in their wheelchair? Is it okay for me to say that they can’t wheel themselves around or that they use magic to move at all times and would not be able to move at all if someone were not pushing them or they lost their magic? Is it okay for everyone to treat the person like a helpless baby because they can’t walk? Honestly, I think we know more than we think if we take a moment to critically examine. Trust your gut.

Does this contain common problems in portrayal of characters with disabilities/mutism such as derision or lamentation towards sign language, making the character defined entirely by their disability (always a cheerful character except when reminded of their disability, for example), having other characters explain things about their disability to them, or treating the character as childish, needy, and unable to function in society because of their disability?

Pretty self-explanatory, but well worth repeating.

Do not show derision towards sign language (though a villain might, if it was clear that they are the villain and doing something wrong!). We have already discussed the complexities of lamentation and I suggest that you avoid that as well, especially if you are going to make his character flat. If you are not disabled, you really can’t portray it well, and it’s ableist to focus so much on the disability that you do not give the character any other complexity. Do not make the disability the “tragic backstory” of the character’s life. Complexity is important because it means you are seeing the person as more than their disability! You should know things about the character other than “they are happy and sweet and sugary and never get angry or make mistakes!! except sometimes… they are sad because they can’t talk uwuw poor baby” you look that shit in the eyes and you tell it to fuck off, you hear me? It’s great to have a sweet, nice, sugary baby brother Jameson as long as he is more complex than that, with real independence and abilities of his own and complex emotions and character! His disability should not be his one weak spot or his tragic backstory or some shit!

ALSO DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT REFER TO JAMESON AS “THE MUTE.”

like dude even “the mute man” is pretty fucking shifty because why do you feel the need to define him by that??? but definitely not “the mute moved down the hallway” i will block you on sight and you will deserve it that is SO offensive would you call a person who can’t walk “the cripple???”

Don’t have a speaking character explain things about disabilities to characters with disabilities. Speaking characters should not be condescending towards the character about much of anything, really, or else you’re infantilizing - if you need someone to explain things, obviously that’s okay, but do it in a way that recognizes that this is a mature and independent adult.

The character with a disability should be able to function in society past the limitations that are to be expected. No, Jameson isn’t going to magically start talking, but if he wants to go on a walk alone, he can. Let him do things like writing or texting. Don’t be afraid to give him a cool job and awesome hobbies. Let him have independence. If you can’t imagine JJ living on his own because he can’t speak, you’re doing it wrong. Look for signs that Jameson is capable of things other than making tea and kissing his brothers good night.

It’s okay to have a Jameson with a slightly childish personality, and I love it when he’s a sweet boy! But there should be more to him than that. I’m just going to say it - you know when Jameson is being treated like a baby. You know the difference between infantilization and a nice friendly man with sweet cute hobbies and interests. You can see it. Trust yourself. Don’t buy it when you see it and if you’re writing him, make sure there is complexity instead of just sugar-sweet with a sugar-sweet filling. He’s an adult. Remember that and remember that it’s harmful to pretend otherwise.

Geez, that was a rant and a half. Again, I am not the perfect authority. But there are some tips.

Does that help at all?

Feel free to add on to that if you have seen specific things in the fandom that I might not have seen or you have a disability and have experience with being discriminated against.

[finsterhund]

My roommate wanted me to pay him back for food but I reminded him that for the first half of the month I was buying him food so we're basically even and he just went "oh I guess you're right" and dropped it.

Still very anxious because financially I'm on the "just barely able to cover the next chemo treatment in two weeks provided I don't spend money on literally anything" and he's already made me buy gas. My grief counselor said this is me being exploited. I'm just too tired for any sort of conflict right now to bring it up and make a deal about it. Especially since Cazza gets physically ill when my mental health plummets. But if push comes to shove I'm getting at him if I'm down to the wire.

I think I'm getting a tax return thing a few days before the appointment. But can't be certain. It'll definitely be cutting it close.

The special edition of Paper Beast finally arrived (remember that? I ordered it before I even knew about Cazza) and I want to enjoy it, take photos, but just doesn't feel right. Other than that I have one more package in transit from before the diagnosis and I feel so bad when things arrive. At least with the present my friends sent me it was a birthday thing.

I am regretting buying epsalm salt even though it helps so much with pain. It was something I put off to save money but I foolishly thought that today's dose of the dox-whatever was going to be 50 like the last dose of it but turns out it was almost 200 and I have no clue why. It's written out differently on the receipts but on my CHOP chemo guide it's apparently the same dose amount and shit. It was right after I complained about how expensive the vincristine or whatever it's called was too. Like "you think that's bad? Look how much the doxy shit costs this time lol"

Speaking of, this is all the treatments we have left until she's scheduled to go into remission.

If my math is correct (and my math is horrible so it probably isn't) Cazza should get her last chemo appointment on October 13. The original projected time was early September but she also missed several weeks due to low white blood cell count so I think other than that it's the same.

Cazza's next appointment is in two weeks and I get paid again in four weeks. She won't have another appointment (supposedly) until after I get paid next so I only have to scrimp by for two weeks if my math is correct.

With the money I have now I can cover it, but obviously that assumes I won't be buying food so obviously donations are gonna really help me out. Cazza also needs another bag of food for herself it'll be out in a week or so.

Thank you to the anonymous person who donated the cost of her food through go fund me today. Cazza's food is now secured for another month or so even if mine is still up in the air for now.

I've been stressed about Cazza's appetite pretty much through this entire process but when they weighed her today she actually gained two pounds since the last time so I guess I'm just being an overly paranoid dad and she'll eat when she wants to.

I really should be dead tired right now but I think I slept once Cazza brought back home. Also had bath with the epsalm salt which does really help.

I need to remind myself to record Cazza licking Ope (my penguin) because it's very cute and I haven't filmed her doing that yet. I also need to attempt to record her little puppy dream noises (the "upp"s)

The heat is extremely deadly right now. Might get to fucking 40 it was 34 at one point this week. I can't even handle 10 so it's horrible. Luckily I've got a medium fan to replace the three fans of mine with the motors wearing out. It really gives my room s breeze and Cazza appreciates it too. She usually is scared of moving air but loves this fan.

Once we've rested I'll be doing another charity twitch stream. Doing casual Minecraft probably. Still need to plan an Among Us stream with friends at some point.

I really want to participate in Artfight again this year but I don't think that's doable for me due to chemo stress and heat. Kinda wish it happened in the winter instead.

I'm scared that if I go to bed Cazza will lick off her bandage and she knows how to remove a cone collar now (took her a week!) so it's like "hmmm" but I have to sleep at some point.

Shout out to packages of expired Walmart cupcakes that cost a dollar by the way. Really lucked out today when I found them.

Also don't worry about iced tea. I'm covered for now. Pain meds not so much but I do have epsalm salt which honestly I think may help more considering the meds aren't prescription.

I want to do something creative soon but don't know what. Open to suggestions.

#text post #negative #update #long post

[thebatsintheebelfry]

CONCRETE INTO THE FOUNDATIONS

I've got a lot of stuff to write and post this morning, but first I've decided to reduce my Tumblr accounts to just one, this one.

As I was going through all three of my Tumblr accounts I saw just one post that I wanted to keep. The Instagram post it came from has long since gone and as I will delete the tumblr account it resides upon, I've decided to make it a new post here. This is the only surviving photo of me and my good friend Chris. He passed away about four years ago on a hike for charity. I miss him greatly.

When I learned of his passing I was a tattoo apprentice in a shop in downtown Taipei. I was in the middle of setting up my equipment to do some tattoo practice. As I read the text message his wife has sent me tears began streaming down my face and my body began to shake. I had to put my tools aside and sit down. After some time I tried to tidy everything away but I couldn't remember where anything was supposed to go or how to dismantle them. My mind was blank with grief and the tears wouldn't stop.

I don't really cry. As a boy I built a wall around my emotions to cope with the world around me. I didn't even cry at my granddad's funeral while everyone in the pews around me wept. People asked if I was okay and I replied I was fine. My friends and family would often remark how calm, even cold I was. I had the longest of fuses and the most explosive of tempers, but most things didn't faze or bother me emotionally. Chris' death was the first time as an adult that I remember crying like that. I bawled.

In my young adult years as some wayward vagabond, Chris was a kind of irregular constant in my life. He'd pop every so often into Tokyo, Seoul, and Taipei and he almost always had time for me. This dopey little tumbleweed of a fart had somehow become a friend to the dean of St Martins. He was far more than that though. Far far more.

He was an amazing man: a wonderful and devoted husband to his wife, a lovely and doting father to his kids, a talented and widely exhibited artist, the dean of several art schools and the head and chair of art school organizations across the world, the chair of a charity committed to environmental change... the list is longer than I know. He would never boast of it, but I know he counted Ryuichi Sakamoto, Ian McEwan, Jarvis Cocker as personal friends and collaborators. He often met with the mayors of cities and leaders of countries to start art initiatives, adjudicate prestigious art prizes, and build upon his tireless work for charity. He made and exhibited his unique artwork in places all over the world, from the MoCa in Taipei to icebergs in the Antarctic.

So how in the bloody hell would this man, an amazing man of limitless generosity, virtue, and integrity, how and more importantly why would he have time for me.

As someone from a broken home and with estranged and strained relations with what family I have, I've gravitated towards men who could function as a father figure. Men who can help guide and ground me, offer sage counsel and meaningful advice. Truly good men are rare. Chris was one of them and while he couldn't assume a father-like figure then, he does now.

So it isn't an accident that it's on this very morning I have stumbled upon his presence again. This juncture in my life is the most critical I've ever been at. Daily I have been treading precariously close to the cliffs’ edge, yearning for a fall into the swirling abyss below and be done with the misery I have inflicted upon myself and the person I love the most in the world. Chris would never have been where I am now. He understood why a life is worth living. And Fawn made that purpose clear to me. She forced me to realise and now I don't think I could ever be standing on a bridge again, wanting to succumb to the beckoning asphalt below. Not because I don't want it, I do. I think about drowning in those waves on a daily basis. But I promised Fawn I wouldn't. As she said: I owe it to her. I owe it myself. I owe it to help people with what I have been given. And she's right, as damn hard as it is to admit, she is right.

I am already en route to being the man I need to be. This morning, Chris' memory has poured concrete into the foundations. I need to keep building and reinforcing this structure, even when the battering storms threaten to bring it down around my ears again.

Fawn is my family and my best friend and I will never stop loving her. I pray that one day we will be together again for I know she is the one for me. I want nothing more than to be her wonderful and devoted husband, a doting father to our kids. She is the most beautiful person I have ever encountered, full of love and integrity and passion and virtue. I know we are supposed to be together, I truly do. But whatever she decides to do I will support her because I know things don't always go the way they ought.

Chris must have seen something in me, as Fawn most definitely does. I owe it to them both to make them proud and I will not fail them.

///

2017 - original post

A couple of days ago I learnt that a good friend of mine passed away. I first met the then dean of St. Martins when I was working on my graduation artwork in 2007. I had hired an industrial floor sander and was stripping back decades of paint and resin to reveal the floorboards below. One day Chris suddenly poked his head around the door of my studio and asked:

"Will you be sanding much longer? It's just that I've got an important meeting tomorrow and there's dust falling from the ceiling onto my desk."

"Ah crap, I'll make sure I'm all finished by the end of the day."

That was the anecdote I used to re-introduce myself when I saw him at a symposium in Tokyo a year later. We grabbed some food, had a few beers, and so started an unlikely friendship that spanned four countries and ten years. Chris was a wonderful, kind, and intelligent man who not only helped those around him, but he was also committed to increasing public awareness about climate change. Despite being incredibly busy with all of his endeavours, he still somehow managed to make time to catch up whenever he was in town. Chris helped me a great deal, going above and beyond anything I deserved. I will miss you. ps. I nicked your idea of wearing only black t-shirts

[heir-of-talon]

So I have commissioned these busts of the characters. I will post a bust of the person whose POV the chapter is written in ❤ Some may be spoilery but hey! It's just fanfiction 😉

HEIR OF TALON 2

Warnings: explicit/underage/violence

Summary:

After slaying Elder Wyrm and becoming CEO of Talon Ember works very hard. Slowly changes are creeping in, that threaten her relationships with Garret and Riley, her sense of self and her sanity.

Life at the top

Ember

I woke up with a yelp. The bed sheets and my shirt were rumpled and soaked through with sweat. I reached for a glass of water on the night stand and drank trying to wash away tightness in my throat tasting salt of my tears mingling with contents of the glass. It was just another nightmare I tried to calm myself, but at this point I had little doubt that these were true. As was ensuing weeks of captivity, when Gerard found more and more horrid ways to torment Ember after he learned, that she could heal quickly from injuries that would have killed anybody else. His lord and his men, formed a group around her, torturing her and slowly learning her secrets... Bloodlettings so they could bathe in her blood and become resistant to harm and disease. She has suffered it all without even feeling tempted to shift, because there inside her... a spire, only remaining reality of her happiness, of their destiny. No, she could still salvage him, she would endure and once he was out of her body she would shift and fly them both away to safety, to another world if need be, there was nothing she would not do for him, her little Dante. Her love though betrayed so cruelly have found new anchor and she would preserve.

And then... birth of their child, ten men with swords and kludges awaiting, hitting her, bleeding her and Gerard... he tossed his son into flames right after he nearly ripped him from her body amid her agonizing cries.

Hatred. All consuming, all destroying all mighty. She shifted and ripped them apart limb for limb, the men, the women, the children, anyone within the vicinity of the estate. She had nothing left for humans, the vile, cruel, mindless creatures...

These dreams always filled me with grief and despair. But I was not her. Or was I? Sometimes I was not sure anymore. I would better get up, it was going to be another long day.

Vipers were resisting my changes to the organisation and demanded to be allowed to form their own organization apart from Talon, my bare ass! I tossed my shirt aside and hurried to bathroom where I laid down in the bathtub and turned the water on. As warm water crept higher and higher covering my body I relaxed and garish details of the nightmare started to fade. My thoughts were sharp and clear again. No way I was going to relinquish control of Vipers, I will sooner get them all killed. But how do you do this exactly? The only way is to get them to kill one another and then maybe set the last one up to a surprise date with the Order? This would require some serious diversion though, to make sure they accept the orders and don't figure out the game too soon... Hmm maybe later, as the last instance, for now I would rather regain their obedience. Hot water have filled the tub to the brim and I ceased to think giving up to the utter delight of being submerged in relaxing warmth.

***

"Autumn and Cobalt are here to see you ma'am" my assistant's Rose voice sounded through intercom. "Let them in" I grunted, not at all happy. After momentary relief in the bath I have developed a nasty headache and painkillers did not really work on dragons. I was not sure if dragons should have headaches, I have not been sick one hour of my entire life before I have become CEO of Talon.

"Hello Firebrand, you look positively awful, what the hell happened to you?" Riley strode to my office and unceremoniously sat on a chair in front of my enormous desk pulling another chair closer and indicating for Autumn to sit next to him. This irritated me, I was the CEO, this was my office and he come without notice and behaved as he owned everything here. "I had a hard night" I said slowly "so this better be important" I gave them a tight smile.

"It's about my egg" Autumn said. "It's in hatchery now, and I don't want my baby to hatch there. I want him to be born free, not to spend his childhood in an isolated facility being drilled by Talon like we did." She talked calmly and was obviously at ease, while her ridiculous request literally made me seething inside. I waited till she was finished and replied. "How do you imagine to hatch a dragon egg and then rear a hatchling, unable to shift for two years and to stay reliably shifted for another ten in the middle of human society?" I asked calmly. "How are you going to feed it until it can shift? How are you going to avoid it being seen?". Autumn stared at me surprised by coldness in my voice.

"Easy Firebrand, this is why we came here. To find alternative solutions for these... challenges" Riley's voice was calm but he was now watching me with slightly narrowed eyes and I could hear him thinking hard. But I could not let Autumn take that egg away. These four eggs was all the organization had left. We've sustained substantial loses when the laboratory exploded, every dragon counted for survival of our race. "We were thinking about it for quite a while actually. There's four eggs that need to be reared. There probably won't be any new for some time now, as Talon's members will no longer be forced to mate and dragons breed extremely rarely on their own volition, being immortal, territorial and such. So we just need to provide these four hatchlings with a place to be in two years. It should not be that difficult..." "Oh you've got it all figured out, don't you!?" I cut him off. I was furious at his shortsighted sentimentality. "And who is going to provide these hatchlings with education and training? Their mothers, who's never set their foot outside of the breeding facility?!" Autumn looked as if I've hit her, but I didn't care. These hatchlings were important for the organization, now that the vessel program was abandoned. If they were raised outside of the organization will any of them wish to serve it? Will they even be suitable for our purposes? "What are you talking about?" Riley was furious now. "They will be instructed and influenced by our entire community. Just because you won't have total control over every moment of their lives, doesn't mean they will not turn out just fine". He took stunned Autumn by her hand and rose to his feet. "Come, we've must have caught ma'am CEO on a bad day." And then to me. "Do not think that you've heard the last of it Firebrand. This is important, this is the freedom we've been fighting for all this time. And I will not relent, just because you get to be the boss now!" He left with scared Autumn in tow leaving me to my headache and grim thoughts.

I pressed intercom button. "Rose? I am taking off the rest of the day. Tell the Archivist to schedule new date for meeting with Vipers" "Yes, ma'am." I dragged myself out of the office and staggered when the heat and sunshine of the day outside hit me. I could not remember being out in a middle of a day. Ruling Talon was consuming all my time and energy and throughout last few months I begun to see the point of the control and discipline within the organization, as dealing with Riley's rouges, Jade and other free spirits was clearly the most annoying part of my new situation. I could not remember the drive home. To a vast top floor apartment furnished by Rose to impress an empress as she has phrased it. I had no time to interfere and only added piles of discarded clothes to the setting. And these were cleared every day by a maid. So I entered my lavish suite kicked off my ballerinas, flopped on white leather sofa and closed my eyes.

***

I woke up with a start that made it clear, that my headache was still there. It was evening and someone was knocking on my door. I insisted on no Gilas in the building I lived in, just as I insisted on living among normal, if wealthy people, rather than in a fancy all Talon apartment complex few blocks from the HQ. Now I was suddenly reluctant to open the doors. "Ember?! Are you in there?" Garret. I sighed and dragged myself to the doors. "Hello commander" I tried to smile. "Come in and fix this shitty day". He did not smile just stepped over the threshold taking in my surely messy hair, crumpled suit and tired face. "What is wrong?" He asked dropping his duffel bag at the doors and pulling me into strong embrace. I closed my eyes breathing him in and feeling my headache and confusion melting away. But after a way too brief moment he pushed himself away to arms length and looked into my eyes. "What is going on Ember? You look so tired. And you missed the meeting today, the Archivist would not tell us anything, but Rose told me you went home feeling unwell so I come to check up on you."He said. "Wait a minute. What meeting?!" I felt an ugly suspicion rising. "Meeting with Vipers." He looked surprised and worried that I would ask. "The Archivist spoke in your name and got them in line, no worries. They are allowed to leave the organization under a long list of conditions, that shortly sums up to not killing, assaulting or terrorizing anyone ever and attending monthly meetings with their rehabilitation supervisors, new units consisting of one Talon employee and one Order's employee. Of course the agreement is only valid after you've approved it. From the looks on their faces no one is leaving for some time." He smiled to his thoughts.

I had plans for Vipers and this was not exactly what I would have gone for. I should be furious about Archivist bypassing me like that. But somehow it did not matter much. No, when Garret was here I was just relieved and thankful that things were taken care of. Suddenly I could breath freely and I thought that if only I could stay in his arms long enough I would heal and become whole again, the way I was before leaving Talon and the violent time that followed. I leaned in to kiss him and he answered crushing me to his chest. Then he lifted his head again and asked "Have you eaten?" Seemingly abandoning the topic of my bad looks. "No, I slept since noon. " Suddenly I could feel how hungry I was but at the same time I did not want to release him. "How about we order some tapas and eat here?" I pointed to the couch. He peered down at me and truly smiled for the first time since he saw me and I had a hard time trying to stay focused. There was my Garret, this intoxicating mixture of desire and disbelief in his gray eyes. "Give me a second to change, make yourself at home commander. Maybe order food, I want wine boiled chorizo, meat balls with tomato sauce and bacon wrapped dates big pile of each."

I winked at him and rushed to my bedroom and beyond to the walk in closet the size of an average apartment on Manhattan, as the real estate agent described it. There I quickly shed my office clothes and changed into oversized multicolor sweatpants and a knitted crop top. I turned and felt sudden apprehension about going back to the living room. My headache was on its way back and I just wanted to run as far away from Garret as possible, I sat on a chaise long in the middle of the closet. The boy was a nuisance putting it mildly, making me reckless and weak. The thoughts popped in and out of my head along with a passing stab of migraine until I heard his voice coming from somewhere close.

"Ember?" I exited the closet and found him standing at the doorstep to my bedroom. He quickly stepped outside, when he saw me, and I rushed to grab his hand. He sent me that worried look again. "Are you all right?" "Yes, was just changing." He looked me over doubtfully. "Food is here." He said. "Wow, that was fast." I chuckled slightly confused.

We ate talking about things we've been doing since we've last seen each other almost a month before. Garret got in touch with Order's Academy and tried to persuade them to provide much needed reinforcements sooner, than they meant it was possible. More and more survivors of Night of Fang and Fire surfaced all around the world and it was difficult to maintain his position as their leader. I sat buried neck-deep in documentation on Talon, that the Archivist deemed best suited to give me insight and understanding of Talon. I was also struggling to establish satisfactory level of authority. In other words both our lives sucked badly and we could not see the end of it. Afterwards I turned on some music and we went to the couch. Garret sat down in one corner and I nestled between his legs leaning sideways against his chest. I wanted to touch him, kiss him talk some more.

***

"Ember, better go to bed it's past eleven." Garret was shaking my arm lightly. Have I fallen asleep? Again!? "Don't leave me!" I blurted. "Stay with me Garret". He shifted under me. "My leg is sleeping. " He said and tried to stretch. "Let's go to bed then." I rose and he followed collecting his bag from the floor by the doors. I pointed him to guest bathroom and hurried to my own to brush my teeth. Then I slipped into the closet to change into shorts and oversized t-shirt with Toothless serving as pajamas. As soon as I slipped them on I rushed out and waited for Garret in the hall. He come out soon wearing only black boxer shorts, he was lean and tan, his hair bleached by the sun.

I felt my stomach twist with longing and dread, at the sight of him. I wanted him so much, yet I did not feel fit for passionate lovemaking. I was tired and haunted, Talon required things of me, that I doubted, he would accept. Going on like this was a torment for both of us, but we could not see any alternatives right now and I would not accept ending the relationship either. Garret was the only ray of sun in my existence, he loved me and I needed him, completely and desperately. Around him I was myself, battered and wan but myself, when he was gone I did not know who I was anymore.

I strode to him and hugged him tightly, which he returned with a purr. Then I caught his eyes and said solemnly "Garret I love you and I want to be close, but I have not been feeling well lately... And I know, that we don't see each other much, but I can't go all the way tonight. Actually I... might not want to do anything tonight" I felt lame, but he brushed hair off my temple, his expression soft. "It's okay. We are not obliged to do anything Ember. Let's get you to bed." He lifted me up and carried me to my bed, that was neatly made with fresh linens. He put me on the floor and lifted the comforter for me to crawl in. I laid down obediently and patted the pillow next to me. Garret slid under the covers beside me and the warmth of his body engulfed me as he put his arm around me and turned the bed lamp off. In the relative darkness of my bedroom with Garret so close all worries and problems seemed insubstantial, only his heartbeat was real, only the scent of his body and the warmth of his skin mattered. For the first time in weeks I fell into deep dreamless sleep.

#ember hill #fanfiction #julie kagawa #talon saga #talon series #garret xavier sebastian

[dsmadmin]

#HelpingoutAFriend

Co written by @DemonHunterDw & @HuntressJo_Rp

Jo - Jo looked around her suite with all boxes to be moved into her new place she wonders if @DemonHunterDW would like to help. When she typed up a text to him* ”Hey Handsome. I was wondering if you were hungry. Maybe you will be want to work up an appetite with me?”

Dean - Dean was still getting used to being in this new world, much different than what he was accustomed too. Jo really was helping with the transition so as he read her text he replied.- "Of course, when and where?

Jo - hearing her textphone tone. She picked up her phone to read and reply to the new Dean who is new to this dimension- ” How about whenever you are free, I'm at the four seasons hotel. Food is included in the deal too?

Dean - Alright. I could eat. So you in a half hour then. Just text me the address.

Jo - A smile came across her face with a little smirk thinking to herself guys and their stomachs~ Always what kind of person would I be if I didn't feed you for all your hard work. ~She typed up her new address to him and send it to him~ I'll see you very soon. Thank you again.

Dean - -Dean drove over to the hotel and got out going up to her room. Knocking on the door.-

Jo - She was boxing up the last of the things. When she taped up the last of the boxes when she heard the door. Putting down the sellotape gun on top of the box to walk towards the door. Looking through the spy hole when she saw him standing. Slowing opening the door to him- ” Hello Dean. Thank you for coming to help me. You are a start for sure. -She smiled at him- please come in, -She opened the door wider for him to enter - How are you doing?”

Dean - Not a fan of confined spaces due to being trapped a few times in his dimension but he went in and put on a smile.- I'm good. So you bought yourself a house huh? That's awesome, where do we start?

Jo - -She brushed his arm with her hand to ease the tension she could see on his face. She wanted to ask but didn't want to prey too deep. Since this was the beginning of their a new relationship. She hopes he was Okay standing here. When she smiled at him before speaking softly to him. ” Yeah, I've been living out of boxes and suitcases for this past year, When I finally managed to build up the courage to move out of my mom house and pub to become a full-time hunter here. Moving my life here in Austin. I'm glad you could help me, Dean. - She shrugs her shoulders looking around everything she had stored up. - Maybe at the boxes if that's okay?

Dean - Her touch was soothing and even though she wasn't Jo from his past, the sincerity and demeanor were the same and he smiled.- I think I can handle that. -Walking over he stacked one box on another and carried it out to the elevator.-

Jo - Jo looked onto him. I king up the boxes. When she followed him with a box too- Thank you for your help. I bet you didn't think you would be helping me like this?

Dean - Shrugs while holding the boxes.- I don't mind, it's nice to have some down time. I'm surprised the fearless leader isn't here himself. -Smiles-

Jo - I guess you aren't used to having some downtime as you call it? The good thing about this world with the company I work for there are always hunters on shift. When the call comes through you just need to be ready to go. What you be interested in working at black waters if I talk to Colt? Unless you want away from this life Dean. - Jo pressed the button to call for an elevator with her Elbow and waited -

Dean - I'm not sure I want involved in all that. I'm used to working alone and I don't take /orders/ well. Let me think about it? So what does Ms Harvelle do for fun anyway?

Jo - Take as much time as you need. No pressure just that we work in teams or just in twos here. No one works alone because I learned that the hard way. It's just an option if you like. ~ A smile curled on the side of her lip~ ”Fun, what's that exactly when you work as a hunter and being a barmaid, and living on the road. She smiled. I've tried to go horse riding once if you want to count that in but that was a massive failure due to work. What about you. What happened back into your world. Did you have a friend called Jo?

Dean - Dean's eyes rested on her and smiled just liking to hear her speak.- Friend? I guess you could call it that. The virus or whatever it was happened though, never got the chance to do much but survive. I'd like to change that kinda of living here though. Spend time with people I care about.

Jo - Her eyes and voice soften listening to him talk to about his world. This had sadness her listening to him talking of his world. ”What do you need Dean. How can I help you? Does this world need to close the rife you came through unless you want to go back to try and look for any other survivors ?” With the elevator arriving Jo held the button open for Dean. I hope you will be able to relax and start to enjoy the world too.

Dean - From what they told me there is no way back. Everyone close to me is dead. I'm not going to hang on anymore. -Walking out he goes to the truck putting the boxes in and then takes the one from her putting it in too.- All things heal with time.

Jo - ”I'm sorry for your loss Dean” she knew deep down she had to key his grief and allowed him to try and move on. That was her last word on the matter when she felt for him for everything he has lost. ”I will be around for you to whatever you need. Maybe an escape and go for a drink? ”

Dean - He turned to look at her.- How about dinner?

Jo - She smiles brightly - I love the sound of that since I owe you. What would you like?

Dean - You don’t/owe/ me anything. -Reaches overruns his fingers through her hair.- Whatever sounds good to you.

Jo - But I want Dean because you are helping me to move into my place. -She faces blushes against his touch - his about you Tell me what you like to eat and i’ll recommend a place?

Dean - -Dean wasn’t hungry not for anything that could be bought. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.-

Jo - She was taken back for a second when his lips meeting hers. That thought hadn't popped into her head that kissing was on the menu. When she leaned into him and kissed him back.

Dean -Low groan he pulled her small body up against him kissing her deeply. She felt incredible and all he could think about was if she was as wet as he was hard.-

Jo - She felt the hardness build of his torso against her. She hadn't been touch for a while and wanted to explore his body. Her hands running up and down his body. Kissing him a little more. Getting lost in their kiss. Letting out a little moan against his mouth.

Dean - Before he thought he had picked her up and sat her on the tailgate. When he finally pulled back he stared down at her swollen red lips. Heart pounding he searched her eyes then kissed her again -

Jo - She let out a little squeak after being lifted into the back of his truck. She pulled him in close to her wrapping her legs around him. Taking in his scent. Locking her mouth over his. Her fingers exploring his body-

Dean -They were catching stares but Dean didn’t give a shit, the little blonde was all he could think about.-

Jo - The heat that was coming off from him wasn't going to make her stop with the whispers coming from others going past didn't stop her from kissing him. When she deeper her kiss him with her lips becoming more swollen against his-

Dean - He stood there several minutes before he lifted his head.- You taste so good and smell so sweet... I better grab the rest of those boxes or we’ll never get this done...

Jo - She looked at him knowing he was right. when she loosens the grip of her legs around him. She swinging her legs Under the tailgate. After he moved to jump down to put the boxes into the truck. Locking them up safety. Before heading back inside. to catch up with Dean-

Dean - Getting the truck loaded with all her stuff he kept looking at her and couldn’t help but smile.-

Jo - She had made many trips up and down to her suite picking up more boxes with a huge smile on her face with her cheeks becoming a shade of reddish when she couldn't help but look at him, he was like candy to her eyes in one. ”Thank you for today. ”She whispers closely to his ear.

Dean - He lifted her up into the truck seat.- You need water and food. Tell me where so I can get something for us to eat back at your place.

Jo - She smiled at him as she parked herself in the seat. ”Sounds perfect as I'm beginning to feel a little peakish. What about you are you feeling hungry? I've seen there a little sit-in restaurant or takeaway just down from my place called ” Cactus Jack” if you are interested?

Dean - I am and it sounds good. -age leaned in and kissed her nose giving her a huge smile before going around and getting in heading towards the place.-

Jo - She ran her fingers up over his arms with a soft smile appearing on her face. Making sure he kept his eyes on the road. ”What do you fancy having. I could call it in if you want to take it as take out? I do not mind eat in or take out.”

Dean - Up to you darlin’, hot food either way sounds good.

Jo - She gives him a little smile. Before getting her cellphone out her jacket pocket. To looking through her list of numbers to see if she had the restaurant number. When she looked up at him. ” I hope I have a contact number. Hot food what be coming up for sure. I do need to look after you for all your help. Plus our little extra when she cleared her throat to say ”kiss.” Do you regret that? I hope not because you are a great kisser Dean. ” When she looked back finding the number to call ahead with their food and ordering some beers and water to go. Giving her name to be picked up.

Dean - He glanced over as she spoke, he didn’t answer because she was on the phone. But he hadn’t regretted it and he’d let her know soon enough.-

Jo -Her phone called didn't last that long as he hoped he was hungry as she may have over order on the food when she hung up the call. When she glanced over with a cheeky smile at him- ”That the food order. Sound be ready when we get there. Oh, Dean how hungry are you on a scale 1 -10. Ten being starving?” *Jo looked over the dashboard to see where we were before looking back to him*

Dean - Ten. -Reaches over and tugs on a lock of her hair playfully and then make a right heading to the restaurant.-

Jo -She couldn't stop but smile brightly at him. Looking at him being playful. - “I think we could grow your hair and ill dye it for you if you like?” -Teasing him when she had placed her hand on his thigh-

Dean - Laughs.- You like long haired hippies huh? You should have met my brother. Sammy used more shampoo than a chick.

Jo - Shaking her head listening to him- please tell me you are joking about him right? Are you, crazy Dean. Nothing against your brother but I prefer short hair guys that know when to go for a haircut.

Dean - Laughs pulling up in front of the restaurant.- Nope. That dude had metrosexual down to a fine art.

Jo - What that his speciality. Looking after his hair while being at your side Dean?- looking at him before seeing when we're at the restaurant. - Would you want a few beers with your dinner. Since I won't have anything at my new place, Dean? -Undoing her belt and open the door to step out the truck. Making her way around to the driver door. Knocking on the window-

Dean - Up to you, I’m not picky. Puts the window down.- Let me help you.

Jo - That would be amazing if you want to. -opening the door for him to step out- Maybe you can pick out the dessert. Because I kind of forgot to order something sweet for you. -Smiles-

Dean - I’m just happy to eat. Sweets are just extra. -Puts an arm around her waist walking along.- I’m glad we met Jo.

Jo - She beams with his arm around her waist. “ Is that so. You might have not had any dessert in a while. Let us get inside and you can see if there anything you would like.” - She stops at the restaurant door to open the door for them. Since she liked how his hand felt against her waist. Stepping inside slowly. Running her fingertips over his nose-

Dean - -He helped her with the door and as they got inside he smiled as she touched him.- What going on in that head of yours?

Jo - Nothing much except I'm going to enjoy this meal with you. Our first meal together. This could be the first of many things if you like? - she smiles at him biting down on her lower lip waiting on his reply-

Dean - Well Ms Harvelle, -leans down at her ear- when you say it like that I /like/ very much.

Jo - Looking up at him meeting his eyes with a little wiggle of her eyebrows- I'm glad me too. -putting her hands onto his waist- Shall we collect our food and begin?

Dean - Sounds good to me. -Kisses her forehead.-

Jo - His lips felt good against her head. She stopped to look up to him with a Smile. “Let me get the food and we can make tracks to my place. To enjoy your dinner.” She steps away from him to give her name to wait for the food to come out of the kitchen. While she waited Asking about to buy a few six-packs of beer. Sure Ms I just need to check you are over the legal age. She smiles at the waiter “ Certainly. You know how to make me feel young. What a compliment.” “ Looking back to Dean. Picking up her bag with her wallet in it to show her I.D when he saw her FBI badge. “that's okay your Fbi is enough” he said. We have Budweiser, Stella, Miller, Corona or Coors, or Bud ice. She listened and answered, “Wait for a second, please.” She turned to look at Dean.” Dean, What would you prefer?”

Dean -Watching, she was full of life, different than what he felt but he guessed with a time that would improve.- Bud's good.

Jo - She's kept her eyes on him. While waiting him making on his decision on what beer to get. She steps closer to him. Hoping he was okay. Since this might be a little strange for him. Taking her hand to caress his cheek. “Thank you, an excellent choice, she asked him “were you reading my mind? Or just a lucky guess? She smiled at him. “Bud is one of my favourites beers.” She smiled looking up to him, when she moved her eyes away to add on the buds to their order. “How about we get our food and beers and we go to my place”

Dean -It felt odd to be in a civilized place and nothing trying to eat you, her touch soothing he smiled and nodded. Carrying the stuff out to the truck he opened her door and helped her in. Once they got to her new place he began unloading boxes.- Where do you want these? Any particular room?

Jo - *Her eyes had lighted up when they both got to her new place. This was a fresh start for her and hoping this might be something new with him. Maybe this was the start for him too since his world was very different from this world with the little he has talked about. When she picked up the food and beers. Walking into the house. Heading to the kitchen when she stopped.

“ There's a two spare bedroom on the left that I haven't decided what I have I want to do other than making it into a gym.”

She walked with him opening the bedroom door for him.

“Just put those boxes in here and I can unpack them later. I'm going to put the food in the oven and the beers in the fridge and I will come and help you with the

other boxes. “

*She smiled at him. Kisses his cheek before walking to the kitchen to organise the food and beers*

Dean - Alright. -Watching her walk away he continued to unload and put the boxes where she wanted.-

Jo - Jo walked into the kitchen to switch on the oven to place the food in the metal containers to keep warm. And restock the fridge with the beers before walking out to catch up with Dean. When she sees him at the truck carrying some boxes. When she wedges the front door open with a wedge walking out to meet him.

Thank you for all your help.

*She started to pick up two boxes to get the boxes indoors quicker so that they could eat*

Dean - Not a problem. -Stacking them up in the spare room he asked where the bathroom was so he could wash up.-

Jo- Jo smiled lifting the last few boxes into the spare room. She couldn't help but check him out of his build with his large frame before she smiled and spoke to him giving him the directions to the restroom. “That's on the second door on the right, I'll be in the kitchen preparing the food when you are ready. I would say just follow your nose or it's the three-door on the right. ” She blushed softly watching him walking out when she followed him until he was in the restroom when she carried onto the kitchen to wash up and start preparing their dinner from the oven.

Dean - Coming back down he walking into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.- Anything I can do to help?

Jo - *Jo went over to the fridge to pull two beers from the fridge. When he heard him walking in. She turned to look at him*

Welcome back. I think we are almost ready. Since you are here. I've set our dinner on the table. Just over here at the window. If you are ready to eat?

*Taking the lid of his beer before passing it to him*

Dean - Thanks. -Taking the beer he walked over and sat down waiting for her to join him.- I appreciate all this.

Jo - *She followed him carrying their food over to the table* I appreciate you for all your help Dean. What's going on that head of yours? *Sitting down beside him*

Dean - I keep sitting here thinking I'm going to wake up and have to fight off the dead. But I'm glad that's just my brain trying to normalize after everything.

Jo - *She reached over to cup his hand in hers*

Do you know you are safe here now Dean, Don't you? I can't imagine what you have been through but I want to help you too. This world has it's trouble, where we have defenders in this world to stop what happened to your world.

Dean - He looked at her and took a breath nodding.- I know just take a while. I appreciate the help Jo. Things will be okay.

Jo - What can I do to help you, Dean? I hate that you are hurting especially with your life and what you've lived with. I know you will need time and space. If you need anything I have a spare room here if you ever need it.

Dean - I'm okay, it's nice just being here talking to you. -sincere smile- I'm looking forward to hunting, getting back in the saddle.

Jo - Okay, I'm here as a friend too and not just as a hunter Dean. Just tell me what you need and I can get things arranged. My friend Colt and his company have connections to get anyone coming through for papers if you need them?

Dean - Let's eat before the food get's cold? I might need help getting an alias set up. Doubt it would be a good idea saying I'm Dean Winchester when there are multiple of us running around. Help me think up a good alias?

Jo - Okay, Dean sounds like a great idea.

*She glanced down at her food*

This me explain the food. Since I didn't exactly tell you what I order. I just order different items of the menu since I didn't know what you /liked or preferred/ we have chicken enchiladas, tex mex pizza. Chilli wraps, and pulled pork taco with all the dips and sides. Please tuck in Dean. I don't know when you last ate. After you please?

I think you might be right about Dean Winchester I know there's a few in this world. Would you mind changing your alias?

Dean - -Eyes the food.- This is enough to feed an army. -Grins digging in and taking a little of everything.- Smells awesome. Hmm well, I could go by Joe Bob. -Teasing laugh.-

Jo - I didn't want you to be hungry. I hope to have you feeling better and getting settled here. * filling her plate with tacos. Before laughing* you know that sound like a roughneck. I think we can think of something better than that. *Biting into her food*

Dean - Dean devoured a couple tacos and downed a beer. The food was delicious. Go through an apocalypse and you appreciate all the things you took for granted.-

Jo - *She chews on her taco softly. Washing it down with her beer. *

I bet things aren't as much important anymore to what you've seen. Like little dramas or football games. I never was a huge football fan but I care about my family and friends. Oh, I thought of alias for you. What about Hunter Winter.?

Dean - "Hunter Winter"? -Laughs- No offense Jo but that sounds like a romance novel dude. I like Hunter though, it's obvious. -laughing-

Jo - What kind of novels have you been reading Hunter? *She smirks with a grin* I think hunter does suit you for sure Hunter. Now what girlie surname shall we give you. Drillers. Bangers - Giggles-

Dean - Oh you got jokes... -Pulls at a blonde curl teasing her.- How about something simple like.... "Black".

Jo - Maybe just one of two hundred jokes. Maybe one day I’ll let you hear them *She teases back.* don't you think that's boring how about nightshade. You could get some nice glasses too. With a blonde wig if you want? *Laughing taking a swig of beer*

Dean - You suck. Okay, Joanna, we can get you some red lipstick and a tight dress for my arm candy.

Jo - *She leaned over and whispered into his ear before nipples on it* is that a what you like? Maybe that could be arranged. If you are good . Am I get put over your knee with the naughty list with Sunday name /Joanna/.

Dean - He'd totally been joking but the warm breath on his ear had his body responding. He turned and instinctively kissed her.-

Jo - She leans into him kissing him back softly for a min or so before breaking their kiss- Easy their tiger.

Dean - Eyes on hers a moment before he turned away.- Sorry.

Jo - *Composing herself with Her hand Cradle over his thigh* Don't apology I think we were just being a little playful that ended up with that kiss. I just didn't expect it that's all. We are good right? *Her cheeks turned a warm shade of red*

Dean - Her small hand on his thigh made him hot all over. He nods.- Yes, we’re good. -Smiles at her.-

Jo - *Her eyes met his eyes. With a smile on her face. Slowly standing up squeezing his thigh. *Do you want another beer?

Dean - Yeah I would. Thanks.

Jo - *She went over to the fridge picking two more beers. Closing the door behind her. Walking back to dean. Taking her seat.*

How are you enjoying the food?

*She relaxes back into her seat looking back into his eyes. Opening the beers and passes one to him, drinks from the other for herself*

Dean - I love it. Thanks. -Taking a drink he held the bottle looking at the label just thinking.- What do you do for fun? Or are you a work alcoholic?

Jo - She laughed at his word /Fun/ what's that? My life is normally tied up with working, and keeping myself fit. I'm not exactly perfect Dean. I've made a mistake in my life before and I won't do that again. Just look around this is the first place that I will be able to call mine.

Which is a new experience for me. How good are you with your hands? In case I need a good handyman. *She joked* what about you did you have a real home back there?

Dean - I used to be all business too. No home, just my car. Well maybe if you wanted we could go to this place they’ve got a little speedway. Mini race cars. They’ve got mini golf as well.

Jo - How about we make an idea to have fun once and awhile. Looks like you and I both could do with some /Fun/. I don't often make plans since plans often fall through. Sounds like the mini car race is that go-karting you saw. Not sure about the mini-golf isn't that an old person thing *Giggles* but I'm willing to try. Are you good are mini golf?

Dean - Are you calling me old? -Laughs.- I’ve never officially played. When my brother and I were little we’d use red solo cups and put them on the floor of the hotel room. We’d use an old golf ball and this ball ball my father kept around. You know it’s not that easy to get a golf ball to go were you want it with a baseball bat. -Laughs.- But I’m will to try.

Jo - She giggles with her shoulders moving.

“No, I'm not. Aren't you forever Twenty one like me *She jokes. Look I don't see any of us with wrinkles or grey hairs just yet. I think we could try and have some fun. That's cute about you and Sam. Who's had the idea to play Mini cup Golf? I just hope the oldest ones won't show us up with them being good. Sound like we would get you are areal Golf stick to let you try. To see how go your aim is. *She chuckles*

Dean - It was mine. Sam was bored and there wasn’t much to do. Hey I will give it a try. When do you have a day off?

Jo - I'm looking forward to seeing what else you can come up with. I'm free tomorrow if that not too soon. I Was going to unpack but I could work around those boxes for a few days.

Dean - Well it wouldn’t take all day. So you could do both. Well tomorrow it is then. I should go and let you get some rest.

Jo - Okay, sound like a fun day out tomorrow. Do you want to text me tomorrow with a time? only if you are sure. Can I make you up a doggy bag with the leftovers?

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

One Heart, Two Souls.

Chapter 1: Final Part.

I always took my sword everywhere with me. I didn't plan to ever stop. But tonight, I regretted taking it at all. I was heading back to my hiding spot on the other side of town. It was late at night when I had been close to making it back. Bevelle isn't nearly as big as Zanarkand.  Another mistake I made was being in a dark alley alone.

I was walking, when someone passed by me. We bumped shoulders. I didn't think much of it until pain started increasing in my side, and the man passed me. I looked down to find blood spilling out of my waist. When I looked back at the man, I saw him standing there with a bloody knife. He stood there waiting for me to fall. When I didn't fall, he went for round two. I didn't have the means to fight. I was weak from blood loss. He came up to me and shanked me four more times before I fell. He flipped me over, took my sword off of my back, and ran. I laid there as blood seeped out of my mouth and stomach. I was very lucky someone passing by found new and decided to get help.

I woke up in a hospital, the last place I wanted to be, but it was better than lying, bleeding in an alleyway. I didn't stick around though. I snuck out while the doctor wasn't looking. That situation would have been a lot stickier of I hadn't left. The only thing I heard of my diagnosis was that I was lucky to be alive. Heh. Alive huh?

I tried making my way back to the house from the hospital, but I got lost a couple times. But eventually landmarks began to familiar. I figured it may have been a while since that incident, so it seemed best to go check on the family.

To my surprise, those plans quickly changed. Instead, Tidus found me. It had turned out that he had been looking for me for two days.

He saw me and his eyes begun to fill with tears. I kid you not, I had never seen such trauma in a child's eyes. He started bawling his eyes out.

“Tidus, what are you doing here? What's wetting?”

It was hard to make out what he said, but when I did finally interpret it, it left me in shock.

“MOMMIE’S DEAD! SHE WAS BLEEDING IN THE BATH TUB! I TRIED TO GO TO THE PEOPLE NEXT DOOR, BUT THEY REFUSED TO HELP! I TROTTED TO GO TO THE OTHER LADY, BUT NO ONE WAS HOME!”

I held the boy close, soothing him to the best of my ability. What was she thinking? Didn't she consider the consequences of her actions? Did she not consider the fact that her son would find her?

I had come to the conclusion that she had planned this all out. That's why she wanted to ensure that the papers got done before the end of the day.

I picked Tidus up and began the long walk home. When we did get back, I took him straight to his room. I covered his eyes, so that he didn't even have to see the bathroom door. I had planned to feed him, then get the mess cleaned up.

I made him something quick as he hadn't eaten in a day. I brought the food to his room along with a cup of water. He must have been dehydrated as he cleared a whole cup in five seconds. I went to get him another cup.

By the end of lunch, he hadn't eaten much. He was too traumatized. Tidus had started to lie down.

“Auron?”

“Yes sweet thing?”

“Mommy used to sing lullabies for me every time I couldn't sleep. Could you please sign something for me?”

“Yeah, sure kiddo.”

I smiled down at him before I started. I hummed a little tune for him and caressed his cheek until he fell asleep. He must have been thinking of his mother, he was crying in his sleep.

I about cried for the first time since I had died. I couldn't imagined being exposed to the same thing he was at such a young age. I Don't know if I could do it now.

I then went to the bathroom to see what damage had been done. It looked like a murder scene in there. The scene was horrific.

There was vomit in the toilet. My guess from Tidus when he saw this. There was pieces of the sandwich I had made him the night before. It made me angry knowing this was what he was exposed to.

The water was bloody, blood all over the walls. She slit her wrists, and when that didn't kill her fast enough, she went straight for the fatal blow. She slit her throat, and her windpipe most likely filled with blood.

She tried to make it some what pleasant. The smell of bath salts and essential oils mixed with the smell of death. She lit a few bath candles. Her hair was done up, she did her makeup, and she wore a beautiful white dress, what a shame out was that the dress was stained with blood.

I went into her room to see if she left angry kid of note. When I went inside, I found an envelope with a note in it, sitting neatly on top of the file folder with the will and custody papers in it all organized. The folder laid also nearly on the bed.

I read through the note.

“ Dear Auron

I'm sorry, but I couldn't go on like this anymore. I went sleepless and didn't have the energy to keep going without my husband there with me. Jecht was the one person who truly made me happy, my one true love. But it's ok, if you're reading this, I'm with him now and I'm happy. Tell Tidus, my son, that I love him, and that we'll meet again one day. Maybe then were can be a happy family. I think you'll be a good father for him. I could tell that you stayed to truly care about him. By the door, there are two buttons. Push the red one, and everything will go smoothly from there.”

I followed the demands on the letter. The paramedics came soon afterwards. I saved them some time and told them it was a suicide. One of the paramedics kindly showed me how the buttons worked. One was to call paramedics, the other was too call police. Both are helpful.

The body was soon removed, and I was prepared to do some heavy duty cleaning. I started out by draining the bloody bath water. I took out my prayer beads and began to chant a prayer. The warrior monk's method of cleansing an area of pyreflies took longer, but was just as effective as a sending.

I watched and chanted in terror and grief as I watched pyreflies raise from the bath. What scared me the most was that that gathers into the shape of a dead body lying down. Almost as precisely as how Tidus’s mother had laid. Out was like the body hadn't actually been removed.

Afterwards, I cleaned the bath thoroughly. I did not want any blood to remain afterwards ass out was already going to be difficult to bathe Tidus in here in the future.

I didn't leave that night. I stayed on the couch. It surprisingly passed right out. I must have been beat from everything that had been going on with me recently. Dying, dealing with emotionally abusive and suicidal mother while she was grieving over her dead husband, grieving over her dead husband because he was my friend, dealing with a boy with trust issues. I had been through a lot.

I noticed that I had mentioned being surprised a lot. Maybe because Zanarkand was full of surprises, rather they were good or bad.

My thoughts were interrupted by the bot himself. He woke up to go issue the bathroom, but came in here instead. He was traumatized by the fact that his mother wasn't here anymore. I couldn't tell if he was better of seeing the corpse, or not seeing the corpse.

“Where's mommy!? Where's mommy!?”

He kept saying that over and over again and he was crying. I pulled him into my arms and whispered to him how everything was climb to be ok.

“Where's mommy!? Where's mommy!? I can't find her, where is she!?-”

“It's ok. It's going to be alright. Mommie’s in a better place now.”

He ended up staying with be for the rest of the night. The next day, Tidus’s social worker had payed us a visit. He was surprised when I didn't hesitate to hand him the papers. What do you know, more surprises.

“ So, let's go over where Tidus will be

going -”

I put the custody papers right down on the table. He looked at me like I was a mad man.

“Sir, you do understand he's going to most likely have issues after what he's seen, right?

“Yes, and he'll review the proper counseling. I will make sure of it.”

“Are you prepared to raise a child for eleven years?”

I looked at the man with more confidence than I've ever had since the end of the pilgrimage. I looked him straight in the eye and said,

“Yes, I've never been more sure.”

End of chapter 1

Chapter 2 coming soon.

#auron

[topherfoxtrot]

Nosy neighborhood

(or a reflection on the bittersweet nature of nostalgia)

What about a one shot about a tv show I never watched? It sounds fun doesn't it? Well it contains spoilers for the third Webisode of the walking dead called "The Oath" released in 2013. It can be easily found on Vimeo. Trigger warnings include grief and pessimism. Also I wrote this one on first person because I just think first person writing is neat😄

Everyone was gathered in the building that used to be a church. Except from the obvious architecture though you couldn't even tell. Even the beautiful stained glass was mostly gone. And there was no giant wooden cross in sight. Only tables full of food, drinks, and of course the band composed of four singing voices, an acoustic guitar, two saxophones, half a set of drums, a fucking button accordion, a xylophone and a def. Basically every instrument the scavengers could find over the years. Since the world has ended our neighborhood united to form a urban fortress.

I was in a corner with some friends not really interested in the conversation. My eyes scanned the whole place looking for the handsome, tall man with his long blonde straight hair. When I finally spotted Paul grabbing some food I whispered without actually intending to.

"There you are!"

"What?" One of my friends followed my eyes, "Oh my god are you really going after the man?"

"Dude is just introvert!" Another friend rolled his eyes, "That's why he is always in his basement."

"That is simply not true!" I said, "Y'all know how much I hate people, alive or otherwise, and yet I'm always here for our sunday gatherings."

"You know what?" my friend finished her beer before continuing, "Fucking go after him. If it turns out he's just lonely you will get my cleaning shifts for the whole month. And if you find a big secret of his or whatever I'll get yours. How about that?"

"It sounds like a deal!" Me and my friend shook hands with smiles on our faces.

"I can't believe you're going to bother the poor man just because he likes to eat by himself." My other friend shook his head in disapproval before smiling too, "But anyways if you find anything please spill the beans to us!"

"Gotcha!" I winked at them before making my move.

Paul put a lot of food inside an old Tupperware and walked towards the door like he usually did. I moved between the people trying to avoid being seen by him. Paul briefly talked to one or two people before leaving. I left the church a little after, making sure to give him time to step further from the door.

Most of the people were at the church so the streets were empty. I sneaked around corners and alleys and cars like I did so many times outside the walls. I still remember before the outbreak when not everyone needed to be a soldier in order to survive. It's been almost seven years but I still caught myself getting nostalgic sometimes.

I followed Paul for a few blocks. Housing was an issue in our community. Over the years more people started to come and babies started to be born once we reached a certain stability. Paul was one of those people who duo to his efforts towards the community gained the privilege to live on his own instead of in one of the communal houses like I did. He was one of the scavenging teachers after all. And my favorite one, I might add.

Besides being handsome he was also super quiet about anything that didn't concerned the classes. And to become a survivor as good as him you gotta have a past. We asked about it before but he always avoided the topic. This made me even more curious. I've always felt like he was hiding something and tonight I would finally figure out what!

It took a couple minutes for him to reach the big house with two floors and a front yard. Instead of entering the front door though he bypassed the house to enter through the basement door in the back. Paul lives in a basement just like a character from a book I read before the outbreak. Something about a woman watching her neighbours or something. I don't remember the details but I do remember one of the characters lived in a basement like Paul does.

I leaned on the wall and listened carefully as Paul opened the metal doors. After listening to his steps gradually fading as he went downstairs I sneaked into the entrance feeling glad he didn't lock it. I waited there for a while until I was confident Paul was distracted enough not to realize the sounds the doors would make. I opened just one door super slowly and checked every few seconds to see if there was any abrupt movements inside. When I closed the door behind me everything was in darkness expect for the light coming from one of the rooms. My hand instinctively reached for my gun but it wasn't there. I didn't carry my gun inside the walls.

I cursed myself in silence and started to walk downstairs. I wish I could see all the furniture Paul had but I couldn't announce my presence so my only option was to follow the light, which I did swiftly. I could hear a voice but it took me a while to make any sense of it.

"I know you would love those parties they make every Sunday." Paul's voice came from the only room with light, "We even had those back in the day, you remember?" He let out a deep sigh, "I still miss those days. We didn't have much like we do here, but we were happy, weren't we? I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything but I miss that, you know? I miss you, Karina."

There was not a sound to be heard expect for Paul's voice. The easiest explanation was that Paul was probably talking to a portrait ou painting like so many of us do. Death is such a common experience among the survivors. With this conclusion I could leave the house, but I wouldn't be satisfied. I wanted to know more about this Karina woman he was talking to. And about those old days.

I reached the entrance of the room but didn't dare to look inside. Instead I stayed there in silence, all my muscles stiffed. Quietly listening to Paul eating his dinner.

"Dominic talked to me again. You know, about the shifts and all that." Paul chuckled, "I'm not sure if we are just talking or flirting at this point. I know you are as terrible at this as I am but a little help would be good."

Paul chuckled again and a moan was heard. I felt my spine freeze as I obviously recognized the sound. A guttural and tired moan only a walker could make. I finally peeked into the room. There was no bed or beside table or any fortnite whatsoever. Paul was sat on a wooden chair eating his dinner with a fork. The most shocking thing though was the walker. The undead had it's arms tied tightly in a straightjacket. Saliva was falling from her mouth in the most grotesque waterfall I've ever seen. Paying special attention I realized her mouth was toothless. There was almost nothing left of hair in her head and the skin was this unnatural tone of grey. That walker was old. A thick chain kept it near the wall.

"What the fuck?" I whispered in terror.

Faster than I could even register Paul got up and pointed his revolver at me. I put my hands up and froze still.

"It's me! It's me! Please don't shoot."

It didn't seem like Paul would shoot me but he didn't put the gun down either. Instead he looked deep into my eyes. I tried to read him but as usual it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

"What are you doing here?" He asked finally with a deep voice.

"I... I was just-" the truth is that there was nothing to be said. I was there because I wanted to know what was up with him. And now I did.

"You shouldn't be here." He said firmly.

"I k-know!" I stuttered, "But you know what I'm already leaving, actually!"

"No!"

I stayed still. Paul took a deep sigh and finally put his gun down. The silence was only broken by the walker's unnerving sounds. Paul walked across the living room and brought a chair with him. Without saying anything he invited me to the room with the walker. I sat with them. Looking at it made me so uncomfortable all I wanted was to runway from there as fast as I could. Still, I stayed.

"This is Karina." Paul started, "We met in a settlement right after the outbreak."

"She died." I said, "And you couldn't let go of her."

"It's a little more complex than that."

I tried to look into Paul's eyes, but he was facing the ground. Once he was ready, Paul looked up at me.

"We made and oath. We wouldn't abandon each other no matter what. And when would fight for each other. One lives, all live."

Paul lifted hir shirt a little to show a huge scar on his belly. It looked well healed, "Our camp got raided by walkers. Me and Karina were the only survivors. I got this scar as a souvenir. But it looked bad, and I went unconscious for a couple hours."

At this point I kind of realized where this was going. I read Romeo and Juliet back at school. I hate tragedies. Paul lowered his shirt and shifted on his chair a little.

"Karina couldn't face the world on her own. She wanted to end all this pain and suffering."

"Oh no..." I covered my mouth slightly.

Paul tilted his head, "She killed herself. Once I got there it was already too late."

He stayed in silence for a while and I realized there were actual tears dropping from his eyes.

"But we made an oath!" He cried out. "We vowed never to leave each other and that's what I did!" He said even louder. The tears cleaning his face. "That's what I did-!!"

He choked on his own tears and couldn't say anything else. Paul just buried his face on his hands and cried while the walker (or should I say Karina?) moaned quietly in it's never ending hunger.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, no knowing what to say.

Paul got up still facing the ground. I quickly got up too and hugged him. He was taller than me so he had to bend a little to hug me back. That made his weight fall upon me. I had to stiff my legs in order not to simply fall down. But I carried him. He kept crying louder and louder. The walker got agitated but it didn't left it's place due to the restrains. I closed my eyes shut wishing with all of me for this to be over. Not Paul or the walker. Just everything else.

Pain and suffering left a scar on everyone. And I couldn't help but think, clouded by my own nostalgia, how much better things were before.

#the walking dead #the oath #Wyatt Russell #FoxtrotFanfic