#boy howdy was I a hurting cowboy at the end of the day because of my ankle

[causeimanartist]

Listen, I love Hunter’s new fit, but his Golden Guard uniform is *chefs kiss*

A huge shout out to the Chicago Cosplay and Photography Meet-Up Group for these awesome photos of me in my Golden Guard costume at ACEN

And for those who are interested in cosplaying as the Golden Guard, I’ve included some links for the mask and Flapjack

MASK & FLAPJACK

The brown undershirt is a men’s long sleeve golf shirt, the yellow shirt is one I bought at Michaels and just cut a bad triangle into lol. The belt was mine (and something I would replace when I do this cosplay again).

The “staff” is actually just a shovel handle I bought at a Meijer (Midwest chain store). It was in the home/gardening area. It was perfect because I could swap out the two palisman

The triangle broach is just a piece of wood I cut to shape and then taped gold construction paper on

And the cape my mom made so LOL can’t help you with that one, she’s my mom and you can’t have her

[robinofgothamcity]

"where did you go? i miss you so, i'm all alone, you're up there, you're up in the sky...."

♡ character: eddie munson

♡ pronouns used: she / her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / angst-to-fluff i promiseeee

"FUCK YOU EDDIE!" you screamed as you stared down at the long black haired boy, "i didn't start any stupid rumors, we've been friends for how long?" eddie chuckled in disbelief, "it's one thing to not want to be my friend anymore but it's another to lie straight to my face!" he replied.

you laughed, shaking your head and opening the door, "if you think that i'm lying to you, fine but you know i've always been here for you. i was there since the day you moved in with your uncle and i'd never say anything about you that would hurt your feelings," you screamed, tears going down your face.

both you and eddie were panting from the amount of yelling you were doing, "if you're jealous or upset because i'm gaining the tiniest bit of popularity by being friends with steve and jason, that's your fault, not mine so don't start projecting that onto me. plus, i'm your girlfriend, you should be happy that i made the cheer team!"

"so that's it? we're breaking up? how original ( your name )."

eddie wanted to continue the argument but he could see the way you were screaming in the car out of pure frustration and anger. he knew you needed to let off steam and so did he. the argument was getting more and more intense and at some point, he knew the two of you would end up apologizing and forgiving each other.

+

that day never came. two years later and the both of you had to yet say anything to each other. you ignored him whenever you saw him approaching and each time he called your house, you'd yell to your mom that you weren't speaking to him and to let it ring.

you got a bit more popular considering you befriended chrissy and got closer to steve not long after. being that you and chrissy were on the cheer team and steve invited you to parties that jason or ken were throwing, you climbed up the social ladder fairly quick. you weren't as much of a prick as jason was and if there was one thing you never antagonized, it was the rumors that started to spread about eddie.

rumors about him being a freak or him being a satanist never formed as truths, at least to you. you had known eddie since elementary school and although eddie did like music like metallica or iron maiden, he was never the freak they all thought he was. he was one of the sweetest boys you had known.

eddie on the other hand hated to see you so popular. not that he hated you but hated how many guys were around you. if it wasn't steve, it was jason, and if it wasn't jason, it was ken or some freshman trying to gain popularity. your face was plastered around the school always promoting the cheer team with chrissy and my god, he thought you had gotten more gorgeous over the years.

hawkin's high school was now in full swing for spirit week. you, chrissy, and a few others picked the themes for this year and you were arriving on the day you had picked. cowboy/western. you wanted to go all out with the cowboy hat and boots. your family had a bunch of western wear from back home so all you had to do was remake it to fit you. you stole your uncles tejana hat and your moms fringed jacket. pairing it with a squared shirt and a jean skirt, you felt like you were back home and visiting family.

"howdy," you greeted all of your friends. they all couldn't help but giggle at how you looked, "really putting the yee haw into it, huh?" steve said. you rolled your eyes as you fixed the hat, "it wouldn't be spirit week if i wasn't," you replied. chrissy immediately ran up to you, showing off her pink cowboy hat in excitement.

steve had his arm fixed around your shoulder as nancy passed by you, giving you a sweet compliment on the outfit. you thanked her as you noticed the yearbook team approaching you, "mind if we take a picture of you and chrissy by the front of the school?" he asked. you and chrissy agreed excitedly as the two of you ran to the front of the school doors and quickly fixed your hair.

eddie was now walking in as he saw you and chrissy posing for the photo. you were holding your hat up and smiling at chrissy as she smiled at the camera. eddie stayed in his place, smiling softly at how happy you looked. you were still as gorgeous as ever and now all of you were about to graduate college.

he had heard of you moving a few towns over for it and a huge part of him wanted to follow. eddie still was very protective over you and whenever he heard rumors about you floating around, he made sure to cut them off before they got any worse. there had been a day eddie purposely beat up a kid behind the bleachers for claiming that he got into bed with you. he left the poor kid bleeding and he was pretty sure he broke his nose.

"hey check it out, eddie munson is looking over at you," chrissy whispered. you gave her a look before turning to where she was pointing at, "oh, i'm pretty sure he was looking somewhere else. i don't think he would acknowledge someone like me."

"ladies, we're going to be late for first period if you don't hurry up," you heard robin say. you immediately thanked the boy before going to your locker to get your bag, "robin, guess what? eddie munson was checking her out," chrissy said moving her eyebrows a suggestive way.

"give it up chrissy, eddie is the last person who'd be checking me out," you replied making sure to emphasize that eddie was not your friend. as much as you missed him, you were sure he still hated you as much as he did two years prior, "now lets get to literature, no?" you asked as steve joined up with you.

the four of you happened to have a few classes together so it wasn't unusual to see all of you walking in together. what you also knew that this was one of six classes that you shared with eddie. you were surprised to see him back again this year considering he was supposed to be a 1985 graduate but you didn't question it.

you sat in between chrissy and robin as the teacher had moved steve to the front of the class for never paying attention. eddie was already in class when all of you arrived. you immediately put your bag down and sat on top of steve's desk, not recognizing the agonizing look on eddie's face. oh how he wished that you could've been sitting on his desk as he spoke to you on his latest campaign.

"hey, what are you doing tonight? we all wanted to catch a movie at the drive in," steve asked his three favorite people. you sighed in defeat, "can't. i have to stay after school to work on a project for history after cheer practice," you muttered. they all sighed in temporary sadness but knew that senior year projects were important.

both you and chrissy were working on a new cheer for the upcoming basketball season and were running around like chickens with your heads cut off because you still hadn't gotten the routine down.

most of the day was left for you to try and figure out what would become of the new cheer routine. it was hard to figure it out when everyone was still causing slip ups and you were working sometimes through the night to make it easier for the team. chrissy had gotten the routine down in a few others but most of the team were still struggling.

you walked out of the locker room to refill your water bottle before practice when you saw eddie walking into a classroom. you stepped towards the room to see him talking to a few kids and opening up a notebook. you knew that notebook from anywhere. you had given it to him when he first began playing DnD and you were surprised he was still using it.

"hey, c'mon, we're about to be late!" chrissy scream. you nodded, giving eddie one last look before leaving. eddie had noticed you looking at him and a part of him wanted to call out your name, "dude, you good?" lucas asked. eddie nodded, not saying anything but his mind still occupied on you.

+

after practice, you stayed with a few girls to practice it a bit more. it was now eddie's turn to look over at you from the small glass window on the gym door. you were talking to a few of your teammates, a bit animatedly as you were hitting the table to get your point across. eddie could tell you were being serious about it but the way you look at the moment had his heart racing.

the stupid white cheer skirt that matched with the top made him fantasize about you giving him a show with it but he quickly discarded those thoughts as you dismissed your teammates.

you knew the library was closed by now which meant you'd have to work on your project over the weekend. you left the gym, grumbling about how annoyed you were but you knew you were just hungry. you put your things into the trunk of your car and started it when you heard a whirring noise.

great.

sometimes your car tended to stay stranded when the night got too cold. you knew your mom wasn't home and your siblings were probably too busy to pick up the phone.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself as you tried to turn on the car again.

you growled when you realized that you needed to give it up and just start the walk home. you opened the trunk once again and took your things out before starting the journey. indiana really hated you on these particular cold days. your house wasn't exactly far but the ten minute car ride would probably end up a thirty minute walk.

eddie was making his way home when he saw you walking on the dirty road. it was dangerous to be walking home alone and given that it was hawkins, he knew it was worse. without much thought, he pulled over to the side in front of you and got out.

"hey, what're you doing walking alone at eight at night?" he asked. you sighed, "my car wouldn't start and no one would be able to get me so i really didn't have much of a choice but to walk to school," you replied as you continued to walk. you didn't want to get your hopes up with this conversation.

eddie sighed, "get in, i'll drop you off. i don't want you walking alone," he stated. you could tell he was being serious and he wasn't allowing you much time to think about it, "fine," you said as you opened up the back of his van and chucked your things inside before getting into the passenger seat.

you remained quiet for most of the ride until you saw the small picture on the end of the his dash board, "oh my god, eddie, you still have this?" you asked as you took it off. you were wearing eddie's jean jacket as he was holding you up bridal style. it was your freshman year and eddie's sophomore year. he had just won his first campaign for the Hellfire Club and he was beyond ecstatic about it.

"yeah, kinda just kept it as i didn't want to just throw it out."

the more you stared at the photo, the more you started to get choked up. you both looked so happy in the picture and a part of you wanted that back. eddie was confused as to why you didn't say anything else but he could see the way your hands were shaking and how you were trying to not cry.

"hey, what's the matter?" he asked. you held the photo with such strength that it was genuinely surprising you, "fuck, it's nothing," you replied. he moved over to the side of the road and asked for you to look at him.

you shook your head no but eddie's index finger lifted your chin up. your cheeks were running warm and your eyes were bloodshot red. he could sense what was making you so emotional but before he could say anything, you let out a sob as you held the picture close to your chest.

"sweetheart, it's okay," he whispered. you shook your head no, "no, no it's not. that argument was so fucking stupid edward. we haven't talked in nearly three years because we're so fucking stubborn," you yelled. eddie sighed and grabbed the picture, "what went wrong? we were perfect for each other."

eddie nodded and turned over to you to wipe the mascara that was staining your face, "babe, calm down. what happened that night is a thing of the past and it was dumb. we were too young to actually communicate our feelings out and you shouldn't be so upset about it anymore, he replied. you agreed but didn't say anything, "you don't think i wanted to approach you and just talk to you again? i wanted to so badly but look at who your friends with. jason and steve would not take lightly to me."

you shook your head.

"jason maybe but steve, robin, and chrissy would understand. they're my best friends eddie and if they knew that i loved you, they would have given you a chance," you explained. the van stayed silent as metallica played lowly in the background. you knew 'master of puppets' was his favorite song to play on the guitar and he played it constantly, "i would have taken you back no issue," you continued.

eddie chuckled as he grabbed your hand and brought you over to sit on his lap. you were hesitant on doing so but soon enough, you got comfortable as you laid your head on his shoulder, "you could have came up to me too you know," he said.

you hid your head into his shoulder still trying to control your crying as he patted your hair as an attempt to calm you down, "come on baby, it's going to be okay. you know i always hated to see you cry," you hugged him closer, "i missed you so much munson. i miss playing DnD, late night car rides, and you dedicating your songs to me," you whispered.

"i know baby but i don't think i'm good for you anymore. you're going up for school soon and i don't think you want some freak to follow along," you scoffed at his confession, "don't put ideas into your head eddie. you're always good for me. you were my soulmate. you promised me by eighteen we'd be married."

that statement always wilded you out but eddie had always told you that the minute you both were of age, he'd take you away to get married. at first you were shocked but once you understood how serious he was, you were just as on board with the idea. you loved eddie enough to get married. he always talked about how he wanted to take your last name so he could get rid of that wretched munson name so everything of his past could stay in the past.

"that offer is still on the table darling. i never stopped loving you. you should know that," he confessed as he played with your fingers. you stared at him with tear filled eyes, "really? even though we haven't spoken in two almost three years?" you asked.

eddie nodded as he took off the ring that he had on his left finger and presented it to you. you stared at him, confused as all hell at what he was about to do.

"i promise you the day we graduate, we can run to that damn courthouse and get married. no one but me, you, and a damn witness," he said with such confidence in his voice, "all you have to do is take this ring and never remove it again."

you lifted your hand shakily grabbed it from him but before you could, he slipped it onto your left ring finger, "we'll have to get it resized until i can afford the ring you deserve," he said. you couldn't help but chuckle as you grabbed his cheeks and gave him the long awaited kiss, "eddie munson, i love you so damn much," you whispered.

eddie scoffed, "don't you mean eddie ( last name )? i told you i'm taking your last name darling," you giggled again as you agreed, "so does that mean we're engaged now?" you asked. eddie nodded yes as you let out a scream of enjoyment, "holy shit, wait till chrissy and robin find out. they're going to freak! we'll need a witness and you need a best man even if it is a courthouse wedding!" you rambled.

eddie stared at you, love written all over his face as he stayed silent to let you talk, "well, lets get you home. my fiancée doesn't need to get grounded now," he said starting his car again. you squealed at the sound of him saying you were his fiancée but you didn't mind one bit.

being eddie munson's fiancée sounded awful to literally anyone else in hawkin's but to you, that sounded like the best thing in the world. you had been dreaming about this since you were fourteen and in a short few months, you'd be officially married to the man you agreed to marry at fourteen.

you kissed his cheek every few seconds as you stared down at your ring. eddie grabbed your hand, the hand where your ring was and kissed it, "forever," he whispered before kissing it again, "forever," you replied giving him another kiss on the cheek.

now you were going to have to deal with telling chrissy, robin, and steve that not only did you have a boyfriend but you were engaged to be married.

[ronoken]

Take Your Shot (continuation 1)

Here’s part of the second chapter for the original thing I’m working on. I’m still feeling it out and it hasn’t been edited, so it’s rough, both in concept and in flow, but still. Here’s a thing.

Part one is here.

*** 

 The ghostly blue woman calmly waited as Gina got all the screaming out of her system.

“WHAT ARE YOU?!” Gina screeched. “Are you a ghost? Am I dead? Why are you see-through? WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

All valid questions.

“Now just’ calm down before ya pop a vein, missy.” The ghost woman waved her hand towards Gina in a generic ‘calm down’ motion.

Gina, still on her bed, scrunched into a ball and sobbed. “Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you!” The ghost woman stepped back, her face scrunched into a frown. “Now why in blazes would I do somethin’ like that?”

Gina blinked and looked up. “You’re not here to rob me? Or murder me?”

“Nope,” the ghost woman said. She smiled at Gina and let out a small laugh. “I gotta tell ya, yer the jumpiest little thing I’ve seen in years. And that twisted lil’ carny picked you?”

Gina relaxed slightly and did her best to take in the situation. “The carny,” she said in a small voice. She then looked at the charm bracelet on her wrist.

“Yep,” the ghost woman said with a nod. “I think ya got it.”

Gina’s eyes kept going from the charm bracelet to the ghost and back again. “You’re… This is… You’re a…”

“Whelp, I ain’t alive, if that’s yer question,” the woman said with a smirk.

Gina uncoiled and tentatively reached out to the blue woman. Her hand hovered inches from the glowing blue dress. “So you’re a ghost…” Gina whispered.

Gina let out a squawk as the woman batted at her hand. “It’s impolite to touch like that,” she scolded.

“How’d I feel you if you’re a ghost?!” Gina cried out.

The ghost woman shrugged. “Because you’ve got the bracelet on? That there charm makes it so ya can access my abilities, and by extension, me. So, I guess that’s why?”

“Abilities?” Gina asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Then let me start over.” The blue woman reached out her hand to Gina. “Howdy. My name’s Annie. Annie Oakley, at yer service.”

***

“Annie Oakley?” Gina asked.

Annie nodded. “That’s right, ma’am.”

Gina stared.

“Like, as in the cowboy?”

Annie frowned. “Do I look like a boy to you?”

“Sorry!” Gina said, backpedaling. “I just… Really? Like, really?”

“Like, really.” Annie sighed and took her hand back. It was obvious Gina was not in a shaking mood.

“Soooo, what brings you here? To my room? At this hour?” Gina asked, still confused.

“I thought I done told you. That bracelet of yours is special. It gives its wearer powers and abilities related to, well, me.” Annie pointed her thumb to her chest.

“Powers?” Gina asked. She adjusted her wire-rim glasses. “What sort of powers?”

“Well, any holder of a charm gets imbued with the standards,” Annie said in a tired voice. It was obvious she’d had this conversation before. “Strength, agility, toughness, but with mine, you get somethin’ a little extra.”

“Extra?” Gina asked. “Like what?”

“Why don’t ya see for yerself?” Annie said with a smile. “Go on, just say ‘Giddy up’.”

“Giddy up?” Gina parroted back, confused.

The moment she spoke, there was a flash of blue light. Gina screamed yet again as she was enveloped in a warm, blinding glow. She felt her clothes grow and change around her body. She could feel a heat rush through her muscles and over her face.

When it was done, Gina looked down at herself.

She was in a baby blue leather coat that fanned out at the waist and ended at the knees, not unlike a dress. There was some ornate lacework along the hem and sleeves, and Gina realized it looked exactly like what Annie had been wearing.

She ran her fingers along the leather and murmured, “So, it wasn’t a dress after all.”

She looked down at her legs, which were now in white leggings that ended at calf-high leather boots, complete with tassels along the fringe. Her hands were covered by white leather gloves, and her face…

Gina walked across the room to look in her closet door mirror. There was an eye-mask covering the top part of her face, and on her head was what looked like a cowboy hat.

“Huh,” Gina said. She gave the mask a tug, but it didn’t move.

“Huh,” she said again.

She looked down at her belt. On her hip was what appeared to be a lasso, and the belt itself was lined with small slots for bullets.

Gina then noticed the strap across her chest. She reached behind herself and brought forward a rifle. It was just her size, and while it had a heft to it, it seemed to fit perfectly in her hands.

“That there’s my Marlin,” Annie said from beside Gina. “That’s an 1891 22-caliber, and my personal favorite.”

Gina traced her hand along the wooden stock. “I’ve never used one of these before.”

“Well, now you can,” Annie said. “Girlie, I… Say, what’s your name?”

“Gina,” Gina said, her eyes still on the rifle.

“Gina, in my day, I was the finest shooter alive. And now, you are, too. There isn’t a shot you can’t hit, if you try.”

“I can do trick shots?” Gina asked. She looked to Annie, who was frowning.

Annie’s face darkened a bit. “I never much cared for that word,” she said. “Come on, let’s go out back. I’m sure there’s somethin’ out there you can try yer hand at.”

Gina nodded, still enamored by the feeling of energy rushing through her body. Without complaint, she followed the ghost woman out of her room.

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

Lovin’ Him - A Negan!AU Story ~ Chapter 2

Story Title: Lovin’ Him - A Negan!AU Story

Story Summary: When high school student Leigh Sullivan feels like the world is against her, and she’s prepared to end it all, there’s only one other person in the world who could save her from herself. Her best friend, neighbor, love of her life, current United States Marine, and even bus driver, Negan Morgan. But what if even his love isn’t enough? Will Negan be the one to save Leigh, or will it be too late? If it is not, what will come of Leigh and Negan? Will they stay best friends and maybe become more? Or, will the strain of Negan trying to save Leigh become too much for their long-lasting friendship, and it’ll all come tumbling down?

Chapter Summary: Negan and Leigh goof off before the bus ride home. Leigh may or may not miss her stop. There may or may not be a dinner between the two! ;) 

Word Count: 1,978

Warning(s): Explicit language. Caring Negan. Loving Negan. Slight angst. Fluff - LOTS of Fluff.  Somewhat of a slow burn? Eventual relationship. Hella teasing. Negan’s very sneaky and naughty in a good way. Teacher x student relationship – The reader is of legal age, and Negan’s a bus driver. NO Zombie Apocalypse.

Author’s Note(s): Here’s the second chapter! If y’all have any questions, feel free to message me! Also, if you wanna be tagged for future stories, just shoot me a message and I’ll be sure to add you!

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). (More characters will be added as the story continues.)

Taglist: @negans-network​ @thamberlina​ @prettyboynegan​ @mychemicalimagines​ @spnnnxangelsx​ @rockinkel21​ @misskittycat02​ @band--psycho​–psycho @ofxallxwexlost​ @iron-halt​ @thamberlinawrites​ @ravenwings73​ @lettherebepink​ @stoneyggirl​

___________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2: That Afternoon

I climb the steps of the bus. He’s not sitting in his seat. I wonder where he is. Nobody else is on the bus. I head to the back to take my usual seat in the last seat on the left side. I set my bag down on the floor. I look up as the bus shakes a little bit. 

I smile as soon as I see him. He looks mighty fine in his forest green skivvy shirt from being in the Marines and his tight Wranglers. Damn. That man can make some clothes look hot as hell. Even his black cowboy boots look hot on him. I’m kind of glad that he doesn’t have his ball cap on today. 

He has his back to me. I run up the aisle and wrap my arms ‘round his midsection. He jumps and turns ‘round. He smiles when he sees that it’s me.

 “Howdy, darlin’. What are you doing?” He asks, as his arms make their way ‘round me.

“Just got on the bus. What are you doing?” I ask.

He takes a slight step back away from me, dropping his arms to his sides. I realize why a second later. There’s another student heading to the bus. Negan gives me a sad smile as he stands away from me. He leans one knee on his seat, crosses his arms so that they’re resting on the top of the seat, and looks at me. 

I slide into the seat right behind his. The kid gets on the bus and, not paying any attention to Negan and I, sits in the back.

Negan leans closer to me, and whispers in my ear. “Why don’t you come fuckin’ sit up here this afternoon?”

“You really want me to?” I ask.

He nods and smiles. “Of course I fuckin’ do. That way I can talk to you.”

I smile. “Alright. Let me go get my stuff. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, darlin’.”

I head to the back of the bus, and grab my stuff. The kid that’s on the bus is already asleep with his headphones on. I head back to the front of the bus, and set my stuff on the floor in front of the seat I’m gonna be sitting in. Negan’s still kneeling in his seat like he was when I left him a minute ago. 

He smiles at me as I stand in front of him. The back of his seat, and the divider in front of me, separate the two of us.

“So. How was your day?” He asks.

“Absolutely positively freaking boring.” I say. “Yours?”

“It could’ve been fuckin’ better. Although, this morning was probably the best part of my day. Well, with the exception of right now, that is.”

“What could’ve possibly made your morning and right now so good for you?”

“Well…um…getting to hang out with my best friend.”

“Oh ok.”

I look down. I was kinda hoping he’d say talking to me or something, but I guess not. I feel two fingers against my chin, and I know exactly who’s touching me based on the tingle that goes through my body at his touch. He slowly lifts my head up so that I’m looking at him.

“You do realize that you’re my best fuckin’ friend, right?” Negan asks.

“You’re serious?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m dead fuckin’  serious.”

“So…wait…let me get this straight, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I’m your best friend. And hanging out with me made your morning and this afternoon the best parts of your day.”

He nods. “Seems ‘bout right to me. Why?”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Why don’t you believe it, darlin’?”

I shrug. “I’m nobody’s friend, and I don’t see how I could make anyone’s day better. Normally, I just mess it up; not make it better.”

He gets a sad look in his eyes. He drops his fingers from my chin, and lays his hand on the seat right beside my arm. His fingers slide over slightly so that they’re brushing my elbow and forearm. I realize why he does what he does. More and more kids are getting on the bus. 

Even though everyone knows that Negan and I are friends, rumors could get started really easily. I mean, it is high school after all. I might be nineteen, but Negan is twenty-five. Not that his age matters to me. It never has; it doesn’t define him. 

Age is but a number, and he is my best friend. I just wouldn’t want him to get fired because some student said something that was completely wrong ‘bout him and I.

“Leigh. We’ll talk ‘bout this later, ok? Right now, why don’t we talk ‘bout something different? I hate to see you hurting, and beating yourself up like this.” Negan says, quietly.

I nod my head. “If you want to. Um…what do you want to talk ‘bout?”

“Why don’t you tell me ‘bout your day?”

“Um. Ok. I guess. What do you want to know?”

“What was the best fuckin’ part of it?”

I blush. “You really wanna know?”

He nods. “I sure as shit do.”

“Seeing you act like an adorable little boy when I gave you your Christmas present.”

He laughs. “Alright. Although, you do know I’m not a little boy, right?”

I blush. “I do. Believe me, I know that you’re all man.”

He sucks in a deep breath, and his fingers continue to move along my arm. He lays his head on his arm that’s resting on the back of his seat. He gazes at me. His eyes twinkle with some akin to amusement, happiness, and something else I can’t quite place.

“Alright. So…that was the best part of your day. Is there another part that was really good? Or was it just one of those days?” He asks.

“Well…there was one other part that made my day.” I reply, grinning.

“Oh really? And was what that?”

“Getting to talk to you and hang out with you.”

He smiles. “Serious?”

“Without a doubt.”

His grin gets even bigger.

“Mr. Morgan! It’s time to go!” A kid from middle school shouts from the middle of the bus.

Negan sighs, and looks at his watch. Yep, the one I made him.

“I’ve still got another minute before it’s time to pull out.” He mutters.

He looks up at me, and gives me a smirk. He wiggles his eyebrows before turning ‘round and sitting in his seat. He reaches over and grabs the handle to pull the door shut. I watch as his muscles move beneath his shirt. As he moves his arm, his t-shirt sleeve rises up and I get to see his tattoo. 

It’s just a simple American flag with a cross behind it and a Confederate flag, the Stars and Bars, right below it. It’s some really nice ink. He’s explained the importance of each aspect to the tattoo to me before. He has the American flag because a) he’s American and b) he’s in the military. 

Does he really need another reason to have an American flag tattoo? He has the Confederate flag because a) he’s from the South and b) he loves the Civil War and the Confederacy. He’s a history buff like me, and the Civil War is his favorite part of American history. 

Not because he supports slavery or anything. No. It’s because he respects the fact that the Southerners stood up for what they believed in. Granted those beliefs may not have been right, but the Southerners still fought for those beliefs. 

Plus, the South was also fighting for each state’s rights. The South had felt as if it weren’t being acknowledged by the North and was being taken advantage of due to the crops and other agriculture. Anyway, back to Negan’s tattoo. He has the cross because he is a Christian, but mainly because he had to truly rely on God to get him through one situation while he was overseas a couple years ago.

He pulls the handle close to him until it locks into place. He reaches back behind him for his seatbelt and buckles up. He tilts the sun visor down. He glances up in the rearview mirror. I catch his gaze. He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows. 

I laugh. He just chuckles and cranks the engine of the bus. After he does that, he waits for the other buses to pull out before him so that he can. I talk to him as he does his run. Eventually, he gets so focused on driving the bus, and dropping the kids off, that we just stop talking. 

But that’s ok. I know he’s doing his job. Since he and I aren’t talking at the moment, I sit down in my seat. I curl up in the seat, and close my eyes. Since I’m the last person to get off the bus, I still have another hour and a half bus ride.

I can take a nap. I doze off thinking ‘bout the man sitting in front of me.

***

I wake up sometime later to the bus being stopped, and the engine turning off. I hear the clank of metal against metal and realize that Negan’s taking his seatbelt off. I slowly sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes. I look ‘round and realize that we’re back at school. 

I look at Negan, who is busy looking down at something in his lap.

“Um…Negan?” I ask.

Negan jumps in his seat, and stands up. He looks at me, and relaxes once he realizes that it’s me. He kneels on his seat like he did earlier this afternoon.

“Hey, darlin’. I hate to fuckin’ say it, but I forgot you were on here. I’m sorry.” He says.

“It’s fine. I’ll walk home.” I say, gathering my stuff.

“No. I’ll drive you home. There ain’t no fuckin’ way on God’s green Earth that I’m gonna let you fuckin’ walk all the way home. That’s a two-hour bus ride. That’s like a four-hour walk.”

“I don’t wanna be a burden to you. I’m fine to walk.”

Negan moves so that he’s standing closer to me. He pulls me into his arms. I drop my stuff, and put my arms ‘round him. I lay my head against his chest.

“Darlin’, you’re never a burden to me. Don’t ever think that ‘bout yourself. Besides, you’re my neighbor, so it’s not like I’m driving to fuckin’ Kalamazoo and back just to take you home.” He says.

I laugh. “Ok. You’ve got a point. But only if you’re sure.”

“Sure on which part?”

“Sure on everything.”

“Darlin’, I’m one hundred and twenty-five percent sure that you’re not a burden to me. You could never be one. You’re too damn special to ever be a burden to me. I’m a hundred and twenty-seven point seven five percent sure that I don’t mind taking you home. I’ve actually kinda wanted to take you home for a while now. It means that I get to spend more fuckin’ time with you.”

 I lift my head up off his chest and look at him. He looks dead serious like he’s not joking with me. In fact, he even looks a little nervous.

“C’mon, darlin’. Say something. Please. I’m sort of nervous here.” He says.

I tighten my arms ‘round him even more and give him a big ole hug.

“Darlin’?” He asks.

“You’re special to me too, and I really enjoy spending time with you.” I say, quietly.

He smiles at me. “So…you’re cool if I take you home?”

“Yea. If you’re cool with taking me home.” I blush slightly, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Of course I am. Although, I’m starving. Do you care if we stop on the way home to get some food?”

“Um…sure. You’re the one driving.”

[buzzdixonwriter]

Colonialism

You back into things sometimes.

One of my many guilty pleasures is old school pulp, which I first encountered with the Doc Savage reprints in the 1960s, then old anthologies, then back issues at conventions, and now thanks to the Internet, an almost limitless supply.

And to be utterly frankly, a lot of the appeal lays in the campiness of the covers and interior art -- brass plated damsels fighting alien monsters, bare chested heroes combatting insidious hordes, etc., etc., and of course, etc.

Once past age 12, I never took these covers or the covers of modern pulps such as James Bond, Mike Hammer, or Modesty Blaise seriously; they were just good, campy fun.

While my main focus remained on the sci-fi pulps, I also kept an eye on crime and mystery pulps, war stories, and what are sometimes called “sweaties”, i.e., men’s adventure magazines.

Despite the differences in the titles and genres, certain themes seemed to pop up again and again.

Scantily clad ladies, typically in some form of distress, though on occasion dishing out as good if not better than they got.

Well, the pulps that drew my attention were the pups made for a primarily male audience (though even in the 1930s and 40s there were large numbers of female readers and writers in the sci-fi genre).  Small wonder I was drawn to certain types of eye candy; I had been culturally programmed that way.

That’s a topic well worthy of a post or two on its own, so I’m putting gender issues / the patriarchy / the male gaze aside for the moment.

What I’m more interested in focusing on is the second most popular characters to appear on the covers (and in the stories as well).

The Other.

The Other comes in all shapes / sizes / ethnicities.  Tall and short, scrawny and beefy, light or dark, you name it, they’ve got a flavor for you.

“Injuns” and aliens, Mongols and mafiosi, Africans and anarchists.

Whoever they were ”they ain’t us!”

Certain types of stories lend themselves easily to depicting the villainous Other.

Westerns, where irate natives can always be counted on to launch an attack.

War stories, where the hero (with or without an army to help him) battles countless numbers of enemies en masse.

Adventure stories, where the hero intrudes in some other culture and shows them the error of their ways.

Detective stories, where the Other might be a single sinister mastermind but still represents an existentialist threat.

And my beloved sci-fi stories?

Why, we fans told ourselves our stories were better than that!  We didn’t wallow in old world bigotry, demonizing blacks and browns and other non-whites because of their skins.

Oh, no:  We demonized green skinned aliens.

Now I know some of you are sputtering “But-but-but you wrote for GI Joe!”

Boy howdy, are you correct.

And boy howdy, did we ever exploit the Other with that show.

I never got a chance to do it, but I pitched -- and had Hasbro accept -- a story that would have been about the way I envisioned Cobra to have formed and been organized, and would focus on what motivated them.

They were pretty simplistic greedheads in the original series, but I felt the rank and file needed to be fighting for a purpose, something higher to spire to that mere dominance and wealth.

I never got to do “The Most Dangerous Man In The World” but I was trying to break out of the mold. 

For the most part, our stories fit right into the old trope of The Other.

Ours were mostly about the evil Other trying to do something nefarious against our innocent guys, but there’s an obverse narrative other stories follow, in which our guys go inflict themselves on The Other until our guys either come away with a treasure (rightfully belonging to The Other but, hey, they really don’t deserve it so we’re entitled to take it from them), or hammer The Other into submission so they will become good ersatz copies of us (only not so uppity as to demand equal rights or respect or protection under law).

These are all earmarks of a very Western (in the sense of Europe and America…with Australia and New Zealand thrown in) sin:  Colonialism.

Now, before going further let’s get out terms straight.

There’s all sorts of different forms of colonialism, and some of them can be totally benign -- say a small group of merchants and traders from one country travel to a foreign land and set up a community there where they deal honorably and fairly with the native population.

The transplanted merchants are a “colony” in the strictest sense of the term, but they coexist peacefully in a symbiotic relationship with the host culture and both sides benefit, neither at the expense of the other.

Oh, would that they could all be like that…

Another form of colonialism -- and one we Americans are overly familiar with even though there are all sorts of variants on this basic idea -- is the kind where one culture invades the territory of another and immediately begins operating in a deliberately disruptive nature to the native population.

They seek to enslave & exploit or, failing that, expel or eradicate the natives through any means possible.

It’s the story of Columbus and the conquistadors and the pilgrims and the frontiersmen and the pioneers and the forty-niners and the cowboys and the robber barons.

It’s the story where different groups are deliberately kept separate from one another by the power structure in place, for fear they will band together and usurp said power structure (unless, of course, they band together to kelp make one of ours their leader, and build a grand new empire just for him).

It’s the story where our guys never need make a serious attempt to understand the point of view of The Other, because they are just strawmen to mow down, sexy lamps to take home.

I think my taste in sci-fi and modern pulp writing in general started to change around the mid-1970s.

Being in the army quickly cleared me of a lot of preconceptions I had about what our military did and how they did it.

The easy-peasy moral conflicts of spy novels and international thrillers seem rather thin and phony compared to the real life complexities of national and global politics.

Long before John Wick I was decrying a type of story I referred to as “You killed my dog so you must die.”  Some bad guy (typically The Other) does a bad thing and so the good guy (one of ours -- yea!) must punish him.

Make him hurt.

Make him whimper

Make him crawl.

Make him suffer.

The real world ain’t like that.

Fu Machu falls to Ho Chi Minh.

As entertaining as the fantasy of humiliating and annihilating our enemies may be…we gotta come to terms with them, we gotta learn to live with them.

That’s why my favorite sci-fi stories now are less about conflict and more about comprehension.

It’s better to understand than to stand over.

. . .

The colonial style of storytelling as the dominant form of story telling is fairly recent, dating only from the end of the medieval period in Europe and the rise of the so-called age of exploration.

This is not to say colonial story telling didn’t exist before them -- look at what Caesar wrote, or check out Joshua and Judges in the Old Testament -- but prior to the colonial age it wasn’t the dominant form of storytelling.

Most ancient stories involve characters who, regardless of political or social standing, recognize one another as human beings.

And when gods or monsters appear, they are usually symbols of far greater / larger forces & fates, not beasts to be subdued or slain.

Medieval literature is filled with glorious combat and conflict, but again, it’s the conflict of equals and for motives and rationales that can easily be understood.

It was only when the European nations began deliberately invading and conquering / dominating foreign lands that colonialism became the dominant form of storytelling.

It had to:  How else could a culture justify its swinish behavior against fellow human beings?

Even to this day, much (if not most) popular fiction reflects the values of colonialism.

Heroes rarely change.

Cultures even less.

We’ve kept The Other at arms length with popular fiction and media, sometimes cleverly hiding it, sometimes cleverly justifying it, but we’ve had this underlying current for hundreds of years.

Ultimately, it hasn’t served us well.  

It traps us in simplistic good vs evil / us vs them narratives that fail to take into account the complex nature of human society and relationships.

It gives us pat answers instead of probing questions.

It is zero sum storytelling: The pie is only so big, there can’t be more, and if the hero doesn’t get it all, he loses.  (John D. MacDonald summed up this philosophy in the title of one of his books:  The Girl, The Gold Watch, And Everything.)

It’s possible to break out of that mind set -- The Venture Brothers animated series brilliant manages to combine old school pulp tropes with a very modern, very perceptive deconstruction of the form -- but as posted elsewhere, imitation is the sincerity form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness, so while I certainly applaud The Venture Brothers I don’t want to encourage others to follow in their footsteps.

Because they won’t.

They’ll pretend they will, but they’ll veer off course and back into the old Colonialism mindset.

We need to break out, break free.

Here in the U.S. it’s African-American History Month.

The African-American experience is far from the Colonialism that marks most white / Western / Christian storytelling (and by storytelling I include history and journalism as well as fiction; in fact, anything and everything that tells a narrative).

It’s a good time to open our eyes, to see the world around us not afresh, but for the first time.

Remove the blinders. 

I said sometimes you back into things.

Getting a clearer view of the world I’m in didn’t come from a straightforward examination.

It came from a counter-intuitive place, it found its way back to the beginning not by accepting what others said was the true narrative, but by following individual threads.

It came from Buck Rogers and the Beat Generation and Scrooge McDuck and the sexual revolution and Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance and the civil rights era and Dangerous Visions and the Jesus Movement and Catch-22 and the Merry Pranksters.

It came from old friends, some of whom inspired me, some of whom disappointed me, and yet the disappointments probably led to a deeper, more penetrating insight into the nature of the problem.

This Colonialism era must come to a close.

It can no longer sustain itself, not in the world we inhabit today.

It requires a new breed of storytellers -- writers and artists and poets and journalists who can offer 

It’s not a world that puts up barriers by race or gender, ethnicity or orientation, ability or age.

There’s ample opportunity for open minds.

All it asks of us is a new soul.

  © Buzz Dixon

[sirsamurai]

Epilogue

Before I finally climb into my own bed for the first time since Wednesday night, I am going to jot down some final notes from the East Coast adventure, so that I don’t forget anything that I have not already forgotten....

The three people with the thickest accents was a dude that hailed from California, and two brothers....cousins... both... that came from Canada but that could not find Canada on a map if you showed them where the US was first.  Both were short, round men that fit every stereotype for that region you could possibly imagine.

Everywhere I travel for a show I see cowboys, clowns, hip hop stars, scotsmen, and the Joker.  The problem with this is I never see people that have those gimmicks and stand out with them.  The gear is all the same.  The characters all the same.  If you are going to do an archetype you darn well better be sure you stand above the rest of the people doing your same gimmick. 

Walking through the airport I was limping, I couldn’t turn my head, and my right arm was useless... am I finally a pro? 

It is pretty wild that while I was wrestling on the East Coast the four people that really care about me back home were all watching the matches each night.  Oh, the wonders of technology.

While in Denver I commented to Bob that with the amount of people currently in that airport there was no doubt that there were other wrestlers there.

While standing at the Baggage Pickup in Sacramento former WWE superstar, spirit squad member Johnny Jeter walked up to me and said “are you Sir Samurai.”  He had just flown to Sac.... from Denver. 

I had interaction with two attractive women during the trip.  And one cute one.  The cute one was a wrestler and was friendly and talkative.  Her boyfriend clearly did not realize that she was WAY out of his league.  Ignorance is bliss.The second woman worked at Cook Out and was very mean to me.  Telling me I was in the wrong line.  Hurt my feelings.  The third one also worked at Cook Out and was very nice to me.  I thought they were the same woman, but the rest of my crew did not think so.

On Friday I was paid twenty dollars, which I split with Bob as he main evented that show and I did not.  On Saturday the promoter from Friday complained to me that he was pissed that he had not been paid by the Saturday promoter. 

What the bloody fuck does it mean when somebody said they “sponsored” your match?  Because boy howdy that guy was proud to tell me multiple times that he sponsored mine. 

I had three singles matches in three days.  All were title matches.  I retained mine, failed to win the other two.  I also won a battle royal.  So, basically, I get booked stronger on the East Coast than the West Coast.  I have now wrestled in 13 states (and Canada).  Hoping to get a couple more before the year ends. 

Indie wrestling is the same where ever you go.... for every person that gets it there are three that have no clue but think they should be stars. 

After the show yesterday (it was at 1 in the afternoon) we ordered the AEW PPV and it was the most I have enjoyed watching wrestling in years.  I am a big William Regal fan so that was worth the fifty dollars right there. 

I guess that’s everything

[jayankles]

Howdy, Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean gets a call from a distressed and scared reader, when he goes to rescue you he has to made a decision.

Warnings: ANGST, Character death --> I’m so fucking sorry

Word Count: 2262

A/N – Another entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @percywinchester27 #SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2017 & @torn-and-frayed #SPN Angst Appreciation Weekend 2017 because timezones and shit.

A/N - And thank you to @iwantthedean and @jensen-jarpad for helping me with this one.

Dean didn’t want to make the decision but the demons surrounding him gave him no choice. It was his old flame or it was you.

Dean sat at his laptop when the door opened revealing the taller Winchester, one of his hands buried in his pockets, the other wrapped around a bag of the local diner’s greasiest burger and fries.

‘Another case, smell of sulphur, the vics husband’s behaviour mysteriously changed. Definitely a demon.’ Sam had told his brother. ’Now we have to find where the black eyed asses are hiding.’

Dean nodded his thanks as he accepted the source of food. Half way through his burger, Dean got a call from you, a smile planted on his face as he pressed the answer button and held it up to his ear. His smile instantly disappeared as he heard your hurried, hushed voice sound through the receiver of the phone.

‘Dean…’

‘(Y/N)? Baby? What is it? What’s wrong?’ The questions quickly rolled off of his tongue before you had the opportunity to talk.

He heard you whimper then sniffle before you answered him. ‘Dean, someone’s here and it smells like rotten eggs, I think demons are here. I’m in the closet but I’m scared, Dean. I’m going to die.’

‘Alright, listen to me. Take slow, quiet breaths, you will not die.’ He heard the difference in your exhales, they were just as he said to do but he could tell that your heart was still racing, matching his own rapid palpatations. ‘You hear me, you will not die! You still that thing with you?’

‘Always.’

‘Turn it on. I’ll come and get you. You’ll come back with me and I’ll take care of you. Deal.’ He disregarded everything in front of him, except from the keys to his impala and silently telling Sam that it was time to move and hack into a software to track you down.

‘Dean.’ Your voice, impossibly quieter, voice hoarse and cracking. ‘They’re in the room.’

Before Dean could tell you to be quiet, a scream ripped through your throat as the possessed meatsuits with the onyx eyes gripped your arms, hauling you up before knocking you out with one strong punch to the temple. The demon thought Dean hearing your scream wasn’t enough torment, so he decided to take the discarded phone, that was still connected, and pulled it up to his ear.

‘Howdy, Winchester.’ Dean could hear the sickeningly sweet contentment that oozed from the demons mouth, the Winchester rubbing a rough, callous hand over his even more alert face. ‘Boy, am I glad that she called you. Your little whore here made this job a whole lot easier, speaking of, isn’t she just the prettiest thing you ever seen, Klaus?’ He conferred with his associate.

‘You son of a bitch, you hurt her in any way shape or form, I will stab you in your face, then move on to shove it into your chest. Oh, I’m not done,’ he interrupted as the unnamed demon chuckled at the older Winchester’s threat. ‘Finally, I’m gonna rip your fucking lungs out.’ Dean disconnected the call and ran to Baby, explaining to his little brother why they had to leave and that they had their lead on the demons.

The purr of the impala started and Dean signalled for Sam to use his tech to look for you. The Winchesters worked on autopilot mode, automatically heading to your place as a starting point. Time seemed to drag on, even though it was a thirty minute drive, it felt as if they had been driving and using the software for hours in their haste to search for you.

‘Dean make a U-turn, she’s about three miles west of here, the abandonned house on the corner of 7th.’

He looked in the rearview, checking to see if there were any cars behind him so he could make the turn, seconds later, when he saw that it was just he and his brother on the road, he swerved perfectly, the drift sending them into the nowcorrect lane.

Definitely pushing the speed limit, it only took two minutes and twenty three seconds, but who was counting. Dean! Dean was counting! That was long way too long but you were his priority.

Forgetting to lock the impala, he shoved the car door open and stormed into the building guns blazing. His only back up his brother and his artillery; tucked into the waistband at the back of his jeans was his guns and the demon knife hidden on the inside of the green canvas jacket he wore.

He didn’t have to think as he caused havoc and chaos outside of the doors where you were being held. Nothing else mattered than getting you out of there and away from this monsterous life. You deserved better than that. The black eyed douches approached and Dean sliced an gutted all but the remaining demons that were in the room with you.

When he got there though, that was another story. You were strung up, metal shackled clamped around your wrists, your arms stretched over your head but there was someone next to you, a face he knew all to well. The dark hair, the chocolate pleading eyes. Lisa. She was in the same position you were in but her face left less assaulted than you were.

Dean overestimated the number of demons. There was only one other in the room, running his fingers over the sharp edges of assorted weapons that were pedantically placed down on the table.

Instead the demon moved away from the table, leaving no weapon moved or smudged, his heavy footsteps sent him over to where you and Lisa were hanging. Before he could react, the demon clicked his fingers, the two of you magically unhooked and kneeling with your hands tied behind your back facing Dean. A silent whimper escaped and the tears rolled down your cheeks; you had an idea of what was going to happen and it wasn’t pretty either way.

‘Howdy, Winchester.’ The same demon from earlier greeted, the same chirpy attitude as before. He freaking hated it.

‘I’m here. That’s what you wanted, right? You wanted me. You wanted a Winchester so you could fulfil your fantasy of bringing my head on a platter for all the other meatsuits in hell could see that you brought down one of the mighty Winchesters.’

‘Uh-uh, Cowboy.’ The demon tsked, pulling out a gun from the holster on his thigh. How Dean, a well trained Hunter, didn’t see that at first glance was beyond him. ‘Not so fast, as much as I would love to kill you, it your job to do the directing and killing today and it will be one of these beauties. The old fling or your current fuck.’

A snarl appeared on Dean’s face as the monster talked about you like that, the demon evilly chortled at Dean’s expression, knowing that he would have even more blood on his hands.

‘So who are you saving, Dean?’ It taunted, waving the gun at Lisa first then you, then back to Lisa. He couldn’t make that choice. As it counted down from five, Dean’s feet moved before his mind could process anything.

Lunging forward, he planted himself between one of you and the demon; where the demon had pointed the gun.

‘So, you’ve made your choice, Dean.’ The demon said, pointing the gun to where Dean wasn’t.

Bang!

The shot rang through the air.

‘NO!’ Dean’s body went rigid, all the colour draining from his face when he saw your shoulders slump forward, you had managed to look over it, staring into Dean’s emerald eyes one final time, seconds prior to the moment the light started to leave your eyes.

‘We love you, Dean.’ You had whispered before you fell to the floor, he made his choice and it wasn’t you.

The crimson blood poored through your stomach and onto the dirty floor. Dean ran over to your side, pressing a bandana to where the bullet had pierced your skin in both ends. ‘I knew it was too good to be true. You never got over her and you never loved me.’

‘No, (Y/N), baby. That’s not true, I did get over her and I fell for you. You’re the one I love.’

‘You…could have…saved us…but…you saved her. I knew you couldn’t…let her…go.’ You took your final breath, your heart came to a complete stop. No longer in agony, no longer feeling like second best, no longer feeling like you weren’t his because there was no feeling at all. You were gone.

We? She said we? Us? The demon nodded at his handy work before he had turned to Dean, answering his unspoken question longwindedly.

‘She knew you would choose Lisa over her. She gave up as soon as I gave you a choice.’ He started.

Dean had heard enough the demon’s torture, he didn’t want to be ridden with guilt even more than he was. All the images of you rushed through his mind, causing the panic within him to rise. He did love you, Lisa was his past and you were his present, his future, but his hunter instincts had kicked in when the demon had pointed his gun at the other woman, he had to save her. He thought he could save you both but he was wrong.

‘Bad news for you though, your little girlfriend – well ex-girlfriend – over there was pregnant and you just killed her and your child. How fun is that? What’s this one now two out of three are dead?’ He told Dean with excitement, his shoulders shrugging overdramatically. ‘Oh yeah Ben’s yours, by the way and those are the ones we know about. All those one night stands. Think of all those kids you left unfathered. Damn, you fucked up, Winchester. Quite literally.’

Collapsing to the floor, another shot zoomed through the air Sam was too late to save you but he had to kill the demon. The orange light lit up his body but did Dean no good, it was too late. He had killed you and your child. He felt nothing but guilt and that rooted him to the spot, holding you in the same position. Your head in his lap as he rocked to and fro, the tear tracks roaming down his face.

Staring into the mirror, Dean’s vision was clouded, his mind was filled with remorse and repent as the images of your lifeless body lie in his arms. He could see now, now that it was too late, that when the demon gave him a choice, your shoulders had slumped.

Unbeknownst to Dean, his own tears had slipped down his face as he remembered the shakiness in your voice when you had called, when you silently pleaded with him - he saw the doubt in your eyes as you looked at Dean then to Lisa then back at Dean. He remember the blood pouring from both ends of your stomach, his unborn child still in there but no longer alive. And neither were you.

He hears your voice, it’s far away but he still hears it. Hears how Dean had lied to you, when he said he loved you, when he was going to save you. He lied to you when he said that he would always protect you and you wouldn’t be in any danger if you were to live on your own. He lied to you and that is what got you killed.

Dean blamed himself, agreeing with the voice in his head that even his best wasn’t good enough. That all of his friends deaths, that your death was on him. His dad’s, Ellen, Jo, Kevin, Charlie and now you were to add to that list of deaths on his shoulders.

He had heard enough. Dean growled at the mirror before he punched it, smashing the reflective glass into sharp, dangerous pieces that scattered on the floor and in the sink. Dean’s knuckles were coated in the iron tasting, scarlet liquid when he pulled it away, knowing that he had split his skin without giving it a second glance.

He angrily stomped off into the war room, where he purposefully drug the lampshade and books across the table, sending the cluttering to the floor with a loud thud.

Dean had unknowingly screamed at the top of his lungs alerting Sam that he was in distress. The taller Winchester had heard and seen enough, he pulled his brother back into his chest preventing his from further damage of the bunker and himself.

‘Stop! Dean, stop! She’s gone this isn’t going to help her. It’s too late!’ Sam had forcefully told his brother. Just seeing Dean in this state, an emotional mess, had allowed Sam to see how Dean was feeling, how Dean believed he had messed up and how much he really did love you.

But it was too late. You were gone.

Dean didn’t fight Sam as he was tugged to the floor. The internal fight that Dean had face had left him spent, no longer in control of his own body and the world around him.

'She’s fucking gone and it’s all my fault, Sam! I couldn’t save her! It was my fault!’

Dean couldn’t think straight after your death, he drank himself into oblivion and never even left his room to go on hunts. And the words, ‘howdy, Winchester,’ roaming aroung his head. That and the fact that you were pregnant and he had chosen Lisa over you.

Lemme know what you think...

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Book Blitz: Grand Finale: A Cowboy to Keep by Karen Rock (Giveaway)

On Tour with Prism Book Tours.

Book Tour Grand Finale for

A Cowboy to Keep

By Karen Rock

We hope you enjoyed the tour! If you missed any of the stops, go back and check them out...

Launch - Note from the Author

Best of all, this novel is the prequel to my ROCKY MOUNTAIN COWBOYS series that starts November 1, 2017. THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN COWBOY series chronicles the lives and loves of Jack's ranching family, the Cades (hot-tempered, passionate rough-riding rebels) and their neighbors, the Lovelands, (laconic, stubborn, gritty loners), with whom they've feuded for over a hundred years. They are loyal, strong and determined cowboys who work hard, play harder and love forever. I know you’ll fall in love with them as much as I have!

Christy's Cozy Corners - Dani’s 10 Tips to Running a Dude Ranch

Howdy all! Dani Crawford, stable manager at the Mountain Sky Dude Ranch outside of Denver, Colorado has learned a lot on the job and she’s ready to share her tips to running a dude ranch... 1. Carefully plan your horse line-up. Keep horses that don’t like each other apart, pair the right horse with the right human and always put the gassy horse in the back- lol.

Rockin' Book Reviews - Review

"This is a tale of secrets, judgement, redemption, mystery, suspense and romance. , . . This was a very enjoyable book to relax with."

Katie's Clean Book Collection - Excerpt

Jack rolled his eyes skyward and his chest rose and fell. “Ma’am. I have no quarrel with you. Let me have my gun and I’ll be on my way.”

Dani blew out a breath. “Kick it over here.” He did, and the Glock skidded to a stop at her feet. “Don’t move unless you want your head blown off.” At his nod, she snatched it up and straightened, her rifle still trained on the trespasser. “I could shoot you. It’s the law.” “But you won’t.” He lowered his arms and crossed them.

Bookworm Nation - Review

"I really enjoyed this one. I I thought the plot and setting were a lot of fun. I also really enjoyed the characters of Dani and Jack."

I Am A Reader - Things Bounty Hunters Hear

Jack’s been chasing criminals since bond jumpers gunned down his little brother two years ago. He wants retribution, but most of all he wants redemption since he blames himself for not protecting his sibling like he should have, as an older brother. Life on the road is hard, but he won’t quit until he takes as many lowlifes off the streets as possible so that no families have to suffer as his have. Here’s a sample of what he hears every day on the job:

1. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

Nicole's Book Musings - Excerpt

Dani’s stomach fluttered at Jack’s appreciative look, then he strode down the hill. When she hustled after him, he stopped at the base. “What are you doing?”

“Going with you.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, it’s too dangerous.”

With Love for Books - Review

"Karen Rock writes about a beautiful ranch with stunning horses situated in a former mining area. There are many places for a criminal to hide, both on and close to the premises, and while Jackson and Dani visit them because they're looking for someone, I could still enjoy the vivid descriptions of the amazing countryside, a combination I liked a lot. A Cowboy to Keep is an original love story. It's filled with suspense and at the same time it's really romantic. I loved this fabulous story with many unexpected twists and turns."

Reading Is My SuperPower - Interview

Around here I like to say that reading is my superpower. If YOU had a superpower, what would it be? Karen: Hmmmm… there are so many good ones that I wish I had… I would love to fly. Sometimes I really, really wish I could make myself invisible. Also, it’d be fun to morph into different animals, like dolphins or eagles, and get to see their worlds. But, if I’m true to who I am, my superpower would be storytelling because I believe in the power of stories to uplift us and transport us from our everyday lives. I’m a big believer in hope and positivity and faith and I hope my books give that to my readers.

Urban Book Reviews - Review

"The book was intense. Sweet, hot, and intriguing. I couldn’t stop reading it. Karen Rock has created two characters that will never be forgotten. An emotional attachemwnt occurs once the book is read. Once, one reads this, it will be hard to let go. Addictive, well-written, and highly engaging. Overall, I highly recommend this romance to readers worldwide."

The Silver Dagger Scriptorium - Jackson’s 10 Tips to Courting a Cowgirl

Howdy! Jack here. Tracking bandits is easier than chasing cowgirls. When I first lady eyes on Dani, my heart about stopped beating. Of course, she’d pulled a gun on me for snooping around the dude ranch, so that might have been a contributing factor. Still, I knew right then and there I wouldn’t rest until I’d swept her off her feet and into my arms. I don’t love often, but I love hard and I knew she was the only woman for me. Here are my tips on how best to court a strong, gutsy cowgirl like Dani: 1. Don’t leave home without your wranglers and your cowboy hat. And a little face scruff never hurt none, neither.

Hearts & Scribbles - Excerpt

“Thought you were waiting for my signal.” Dani’s voice was breathy. “If I waited any longer, I’d be drawing social security.” “Ha-ha,” she said slowly, so Jack understood exactly how funny she thought him, and, contrarily, wouldn’t suspect that she really did find him amusing. No more flirting.

Brooke Blogs - Review

"A Cowboy to Keep was such an enjoyable book. Between Dani’s past catching up to her, the chase for Smiley, and even more twists and turns, you will find yourself staying up late to finish this one. I liked the suspense and I really liked the romance. It was tender, sweet, and believable. If you like sweet, wholesome romance plus suspense, then you will enjoy A Cowboy to Keep by Karen Rock."

Okie Dreams Book Reviews - Review

"If you’re looking for a terrific contemporary romance with a good dabble of suspense mixed in, pick up a copy of A Cowboy to Keep by Karen Rock. It’s a great read and the perfect prequel story to what promises to be a stellar new series: Rocky Mountain Cowboys."

Falling Leaves - Excerpt

Jack. When he smiled, Dani couldn’t help smiling. When his face turned sad, something inside her broke a little. She wished she’d met him years ago, before she’d gone left instead of right, taken the wrong turns that kept her from ever traveling beside him.

But she had him for now and she’d make the most of it.

Paulette's Papers - Jackson’s 10 Tips to Tracking Down a Criminal

Hey all. Jack here. I’ve been tracking bond-jumpers since my brother’s murderers skipped out on their court appearance. This cowboy’s picked up a few tips for tracking down criminals: 1. A little menace goes a long way in persuading reluctant witnesses to talk.

Getting Your Read On - Review

"In addition to romance, this book has a bit of danger, mystery and suspense to liven things up. . . . It's hard to resist a good cowboy story!"

Thoughts of a Blonde - Excerpt

All her feelings for him—hot and beautiful in her heart—dissolved on her tongue, strange, new and inexpressible. He twined his fingers in hers, his thumb circling the center of her palm, slowly, and Dani disintegrated.

Becky on Books - Interview

Where did the inspiration for this book come from? I’m a huge fan of westerns, especially ones with renegade heroes like Jack Cade. Those dark, conflicted cowboys tempt the good gal in all of us who hope to tame these strong, fierce men. I was also inspired by the idea that sometimes the person who most needs to forgive us for our past mistakes is ourselves. Both Jack and Dani have troubled pasts and their path to love requires them to confront, and forgive those mistakes before they can be ready for their happily-ever-after. I always want my characters to earn their happy endings and when Jack and Dani finally get there, it’s all the sweeter for the challenges they overcame.

Book Reviews - Review

"I loved this story by Karen Rock. . . . If you love cowboys, horses, and adventure, you will love A Cowboy to Keep."

Heidi Reads... - Excerpt

And then he pulled back, his eyes on her, his expression a silent question she couldn’t answer. Instead, she reached up and kissed his scar, wanting him to know that it made him beautiful to her. How much he meant to her. How every atom of her wanted to be here with him.

He angled his head and kissed her once more, slowly and tenderly.

Fire and Ice Book Reviews - Review

"FANTASTIC!!! Another fantastic read by Karen Rock. This story not only had the chemistry between Dani and Jackson but had tons of twists and turns some that I didn't see coming. "

Mel's Shelves - Reasons to Vacation on a Dude Ranch

The first time I learned about dude ranches was in a funny movie titled CITY SLICKERS with Jack Palance, playing a tough as nails cowboy, and a three city boys, comedians Billy Crystal, Bruno Kirby and Daniel Stern, who are hopelessly out of their element after they sign on for a cattle drive. Watching the grandeur of the West, the freedom and sense of independence life on the range can give, I’ve always known two things: 

1. I would someday visit and/or live out west and I would write a book set here.

Lola's Reviews - Review

"If you’re looking for a great slow building romance with a well done, but subtle suspense element I would definitely recommend this book. There was so much I enjoyed about this from the realistic and interesting main character to the wonderful setting, the suspense element which kept me on my toes and wondering about people their motivations and some side characters that made the story complete. The romance feels real and these two were so great together. This might be my favorite book by this author yet and if I am correct this is the first book in a new series!"

Zerina Blossom's Books - Interview

What was your favorite chapter (or part) to write and why? My favorite chapter is always the Happily-Ever-After chapter. I put my characters through quite a bit before we reach the ending and it makes the final scene the sweetest of all because we know that the hero and heroine have truly earned that joy. It’s that smiling through tears part of the book and I can’t wait to write those scenes!

Don't forget to enter the fabulous giveaway below, if you haven't already...

A Cowboy to Keep

by Karen Rock Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 384 pages February 7th 2017 by Harlequin

Can't stop running from the past Dani Crawford has a secret…and if bounty hunter Jackson Cade finds out, he could ruin everything. The scarred yet handsome cowboy has tracked a dangerous criminal to the dude ranch Dani manages, and to get rid of Jack she'll have to help him catch his man. But the closer they get to cornering their quarry the more Dani wants Jack to stay. Spending time with him is making her long for things she can never have thanks to a past mistake. And if the truth comes out she may be spending her future behind bars rather than safe in her cowboy's arms…

Goodreads│Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Kobo Book Depository│Harlequin

About the Author

In a quest to provide her ELA students with quality reading material, educator Karen Rock read everything out there and couldn't wait to add her voice to the genre. In addition to her work as a Young Adult romance novelist, she's now an author for Harlequin's Heartwarming line and thrilled to pen stories that moms can share with their teenage daughters. She's loved Harlequin books since she spent summers going through her grandmother's Presents books that she passed along in paper grocery bags each year. As half of the writing duo J.K. Rock, Karen also pens young adult romance. When she's not busy writing, Karen enjoys scouring estate sales for vintage books, cooking her grandmother's family recipes, reinventing her gardens to suit her moods and occasionally rescuing local wildlife from neighborhood cats. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, her very appreciated beta-reader daughter, and two Cavalier King cocker spaniels, who have yet to understand the concept of "fetch" though they know a lot about love. For more information about Karen's upcoming books, check out her website.

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       Tour Giveaway

- 1 winner will win the above Prize Pack: 7 Paperbacks & a $50 Amazon Gift Card (US only) - 1 winner will their choice of an ebook of one of Karen's backlisted titles (open internationally) - Ends February 14th a Rafflecopter giveaway