#dale cared about his neighborhood and the people in it

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

100%!!

I think your response gave me the space to expand on my thoughts a bit though, which was nice.

do you have any tips for being comfortable with other people concealed carrying since you're a gun owner? I'm not, but due to a recent law a place I previously considered a safe enough space is now allowing concealed carry (this comes after some shootings in the surrounding area, but again, the place itself didn't seem too bad). It's only for people with licenses, but the gun laws don't seem particularly strict in this area, and it's majority-white and uncomfortably conservative/ignorant when I'm visibly Black, queer, and disabled.

I'm pretty anxious about this, but I can't tell if that's just bc of my biases against guns or if I should actually be nervous considering the "lots of these people suck" circumstances of it all. Would you happen to know of anything I could do to feel more comfortable/safe (minus getting my own gun bc i'm too young even if I wanted to)?

I am not a gun owner. I do carry a weapon, I do not own a gun. I'm not the guy to go to for gun advice.

[chubbygirlmaddy14]

The Dollmaker: The Brother

Dale Kobble x reader

A/N: So this is insane, and I would keep going with this chapter but I wanna leave it like this as well. Plus this is a REALLY slow burn fic. I promise i’ll make it to where something happens soon lovely’s :p

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/374688245?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=chubby_girl_maddy16

Chapter 12: The Brother (1,770 words)

TW’s: Fight scene, choking, abuse, yelling, gun use, threatening (kinda)

Y/n POV:

  I woke up later than normal, thank god I don't have work. Sitting up I find myself in my bed, not the living room like I thought I would be. I soon remember what happened and my hand flies over my mouth. I didn't mean to kiss him on the cheek it just happened??

  I will say it is better than his lips, he would stop talking to me forever and I don't want that, I don't need him to be out of my life. I get out of bed, drag myself to the bathroom, and turn on the hot water before brushing my teeth.

Smiling thinking about the events of last night, I pull off my clothes and step inside, sighing as the hot water hits me.

  My mind keeps going back to what I can remember, the laughing, the movie, and how sweet he was to hold me the way he did and take me to bed after it. Still questioning why I'm as attracted to him as I am,

I realize I've never felt this way about anyone before. 

  I mean yeah throughout college I went on dates, hooked up with different people, and tried to get out there but I never felt anything for them like I do with Dale. There's something about him, like I'm trapped here for the rest of time as long as he's here with me. I don't mind that one bit though. 

  Stepping out of the shower and grabbing my towel, I hear the doorbell ring as I'm drying off. I smile thinking it's him and quickly put some comfy clothes on, not caring about how wet my hair is. Rushing downstairs I open the door with a smile on my face, only for it to drop just a second after. "Hey little sis!" he says pushing his way through. 

  Ryan.

Of course it was him out of all people, and speaking of all people, I catch Dales eyes land on mine as he walks around the neighborhood. I smile softly at him before shutting the door not wanting him to get caught up in any of the drama I know Ryan was soon to start up. 

  Moving to the kitchen I see him grab a slice of left over pizza from last night in the fridge, "what do you want?" I didn't care about how I sounded, how my tone came out, I wanted him out of my house as fast as possible. He smirks as he leans against the counter looking over my way

"Someone's in town that I just found out about, and I'm not allowed to come over and say hello?

  I roll my eyes crossing my arms, I know how he plays this little game of his. He pretends to be all sweet and then snaps

he's just like our father.

"Who told you I was here?" I stare at him, trying to be cautious of who knew that I came back and who didn't. Stepping away from the counter his attitude changes into one I didn't wanna experience. 

  "Grandma! You know she was so excited to have you back, but you didn't want me to know. ME. I- I'm you're brother, we're supposed to be there for each other." He chuckles, slamming his hand down on the counter making me jump, the pizza long forgotten.

"I've been busy, I didn't need any distractions!"

  Moving around to where I was he walks closer, his eyes turning all black. I try to back away as much as I could until my back hits the wall, fuck. His hand comes around my throat pushing me harder into the wall as my mind goes blank. Everything I learned is all forgotten in that moment, I just

freeze. 

  "Busy enough to not say hi? bullshit. You come back here, move into the house that YOU got everyone killed in, and walk around like you're some kind of hot shot just because you're a big agent now?" His hand gets tighter around my throat, making me try to gasp for as much air as I can.

My gun, I need my gun.

  He backs away, making me gasp for air as his hand moves to his side. He finds a beer in the bottom drawer of my fridge and pops it open, drinking it before smiling softly like nothing just happened.

No, what the fuck actually happened.

  I didn't think he would do that ever again but I guess I just got to find out how he is one more time. He's stronger then last time, but I know so am I, I just need to focus with him. "Sit" he gestures with the bottle before grabbing another one for me, "I'm fin-" "SIT."

  I couldn't tell if he was drunk this early already, or just a bigger prick then before. Sitting down he slides over the extra bottle after he opens it. Drinking some of the liquid I sigh, and I know it was early but I didn't care. I had to deal with his ass for however long he stayed. 

  Reaching around I find the hidden drawer wrapped around my side, opening it, and slowly grabbing my other gun and holster. Wrapping it around my thigh, his dumbass wouldn't know a thing. I wasn't going to do anything, but he would do anything to me. I had to be safe, with how old we both were now,

we're different, he's different. 

Longlegs POV:

  I didn't like the way she smiled at me, I knew she wasn't safe. I saw him pull up as I left my house to come see her, I knew she wanted me to finish helping her today. Remembering how he looked from the pictures, I thought of what y/n said to me.

"he's not the best"

  After a few minutes I move over to look through a window, one I knew they couldn't see me from but I could see everything. I needed to know she was safe and if I needed to do anything to stop him, and I would do anything for her

  I see him move behind her, her eyes following him but refusing to move her head. Seeing a beer in her hand, my eyes raise in confusion. I knew she drank, but not voluntarily this early. I watch as she finishes the bottle, taking a deep breath after and keeping her eyes forward.

She didn't want him there. 

Y/n POV:

   Chugging the rest of his beer I stay silent, just watching him, trying to see what he would do. "We need to catch up," he smiles, a fake lovingly expression showing up on his face

“I think I'd be okay not catching up actually, I have shit to do that doesn't involve you."

  Why am I acting like this? I don't know, but I wasn't gonna be treated like a little girl for him anymore. He comes around and stands behind me, his hands resting on my shoulder before he starts digging his fingers in. First soft but soon replaced with hard painful squeezes that were sure to leave bruises.

I finish the rest of my drink trying to get help from the liquid confidence and having to deal with him.

  "Stop." I say softly not being able to take what he's doing anymore, but he doesn't. Soon my pleas turn into screams before I smash the bottle over the counter. The sound doesn't stop him, but the glass from my end cutting his arm does.

"FUCK!" he screams holding his arm as I push him off my, keeping the glass top in my hand.

He smirks before pinning me on the counter, grabbing my wrist and slamming it down on the marble top, making me let go of the glass. He takes it in his hand, "this is for them, what I have been wanting to do for so lon-" I sweep his feet from under him, making him fall to the ground. 

  A gunshot is all that is heard before complete

silence

  The bullet going into the floor next to his head, he stares at me with wide eyes. "I told myself I wouldn't use this on you." In complete shock he doesn't say anything, the gun moving lower onto his stomach, "put it down." my voice has gone monotone as he pushes the glass away from him. Putting together my thoughts I take a deep breath. 

"YOU KNOW I DIDN'T DO SHIT." I gain the confidence keeping the gun straight towards his stomach not taking any chances. I shouldn't be screaming, people can hear me but I can't stand how he still talks to me and treats me, plus the gunshot has already gone off, screaming isn't that bad. 

  "Just cause I found them, we both know that wasn't my fault." I started laughing putting my other hand on my head

oh my god, I've gone insane. 

He gets up, walking towards the door and grabbing his jacket his aimlessly threw on the counter. 

 Putting my gun in the holster, I grab the glass and throw it in the trash. I walk behind him to the door after it's all cleaned up to make sure he left, I couldn't risk it. He takes a few steps down the stairs before turning around to look at me as I stood at the front keeping eye contact with him while he looked back.

"This conversation isn't over." he said harshly making me smirk as I look down "yeah we'll see about that.

  I watch him drive off, leaning against the door and closing my eyes I take in the fresh air. Soon I hear footsteps rushing up to me, making my hand go onto my gun and open my eyes.

Dale keeps his hands up as he gets close and I take a breath realizing it was him, "please don't shoot."

  I chuckle shaking my head, "don't scare me like that, especially while I have this ready." His hands go to my face as he looks down at me, "I heard the shot and the screaming, are you okay?" Blushing like crazy, I hold his hands against my face before pulling them off and kissing against his knuckles.

  "I pinky promise I'm alright, I trained for this stuff." I put my pinky around his before sighing, "Just ignore the hole in the ground in the kitchen, and let’s finish what we started last night."

I smirk softly seeing a blush rise to his face after everything and grab him hand bringing him inside with me.

[alyssalikestoreadbooks]

Borrow My Heart - Kasie West

"When a girl overhears a guy getting verbally destroyed by his friend for being catfished, she jumps in to save the day—and pretends to be his online crush. A young adult romance from the critically acclaimed author of Places We've Never Been.

Wren is used to being called a control freak. She doesn’t care; sticking to the list of rules she created for herself helps her navigate life. But when a cute guy named Asher walks through the door of her neighborhood coffee shop, the rulebook goes out the window.

Asher is cute, charming . . . and being catfished by his online crush. So Wren makes an uncharacteristically impulsive decision—she pretends to be the girl he's waiting for to save him from embarrassment. Suddenly she’s fake-dating a boy she knows nothing about. And it’s . . . amazing.

It's not long before Asher has her breaking even more of her own rules. But will he forgive her when he finds out she's not who she says she is? Wren's not so sure. . . . After all, rules exist for a reason."

Read Date - August 2024

Length - 320 Pages

Genre - Romance, Contemporary, Young Adult

Rating - 6/10

Stars - ★★★☆☆

Notes - I've said this in the past, but i think its SO CUTE when books have little quirks or unique features. This book features "rules" at the start of each chapter! i love it. I love how nerdy Asher and Wren are, and the way they converse with each other is just so sweet. The fake identity thing is REALLY interesting and i can't wait to see how that plays out. It's interesting to see how Wren has to deal with Karen's at the animal shelter, and the dynamics of different people is so cool. The concept of Wren reverse-catfishing Asher is genuinely very cool to me and i think it's very interesting the way that it's all played out. Asher slowly falls in love with her, and Wren breaks all her rules. On top of this all, she's lying to him, and hiding the truth. The reveal that Wren creates these rules to protect herself from her mother is heartbreaking, and it makes sense psychologically. The drama between Wren and her mom is such a smart way to draw a divide between the sisters, and Wren wants to make up for it by going on a trip with her sister to her moms. Involving social media in the efforts to get Bean adopted was such a smart and cute thing. I love all the different events, and how people come out of their comfort zone to make it all happen. The reveal that Asher knew the entire time is breath releasing like oh my god yesssss i love this trope. Wren's mom ditching them again is a good way for the author to get Wren's sister to realize that she's a deadbeat parent, without having to manufacture too much drama to create it. Dale and Asher posting the videos about the catfish to go viral literally has anxiety spiked in my chest, like I can't believe he would do that. I don't think this is redeemable imo because Wren is such a shy and reserved person who doesn't like to be on social media and this just betrays her trust despite what she may say. It's a great wrench thrown into a dynamic where she started out the bad guy, and Dale is trying to paint her slightly that way (unintentionally) by doing so. I had to skip some parts because its a hard cringe read when Wren finds out that he's used her to go viral. Bean getting adopted before Wren could say goodbye was so heartbreaking and it literally makes me want to CRYYYY THAT WAS HER BABBYYYYY!!!! Her eventually getting to see him again is so sweet, and im just so glad that no dogs die in this book. it's so amazing. Asher making his brother delete the video and the two of them getting shamed by their mom for posting it was satisfying. It made it alright that Wren and Asher got back together in the end. This is the first time i would've been okay if Wren got together with Chad.... just saying! In general, this was a nice book that i'd recommend to other YA readers but outside of that niche, I'm not sure if others would like it as much. It was an alright book for me.

[celtfather]

Green Grow the Rashes | Robert Burns

Was Robert Burns a Vulcan? Learn more about one of the most-famous songs by the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns. Get ready for the pub that’s not really a pub. Catch a bus at a Buzz Stop. It might help beautify your neighborhood and fight climate change.

0:20 - “Ride On” from Flower of Scotland by Kilted Kings

4:40 - WELCOME TO ATLANTA PUB SONGS & STORIES

I am Marc Gunn. This is the audio liner notes for the songs I record and play and for the stories I gather and the people I meet in the city of Atlanta. It’s also the audio edition of my newsletter. You can subscribe at pubsong.net, you’ll get the written version of this podcast, along with quick access links to many of the stories listed I’m telling you about.

5:10 - WHAT’S NEW?

Interviewed Heather Dale at GaFilk

Check out the Folk on Foot podcast

Kilts, Celts and Rock’n’Roll on the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast

2022 Year in Review

Published my Daily Journal from Celtic Invasion of Loch Lomond, Scotland

7:40 - “She’s Shiny” from As Long As I’m Flyin’

11:56 - MAGGIE MCGUINNESS PUB

Maggie McGuinness Pub is not your typical Irish pub. Not unless your typical Irish pub is located in the basement of an Irish American home in the suburbs of Hunstville, Alabama.

“To The Irish!”

That’s their slogan. And you best be ready to shout when the time comes. Aside from that, the Pub is just a fun place to play.

For over a decade, I have packed that basement, decorated to look the most-traditional of Irish pubs. I am excited to return there once again in January.

12:50 - UPCOMING SHOWS

Here are some more shows happening this month:

JAN 21: Maggie McGuinness Pub, Huntsville, AL @ 7 PM

JAN 25: Coffee with The Celtfather on YouTube @ 10:30 AM EST

JAN 28: The Lost Druid, Avondale Estates @ 6:30-9:30 PM

FEB 11: Pontoon Brewing, Sandy Springs, GA @ 12-3 PM

JUN 3-10: Celtic Invasion Vacations, County Mayo, Ireland

Is there a venue that you think I should perform at? Please let me know about it.

I’m looking for new places to play this year. Maybe there’s a spot near you. And if you live in the Atlanta area, then it’s even more possible. Let’s make it happen!

13:35 - “Loch Lomond��� from Selcouth

16:27 - GREEN GROW THE RASHES

I got a t-shirt at a Highland Games as a kid. It read, “Spock is a Scot.” I never understood that until I heard Scottish singer, Ed Miller, introduce “Green Grow the Rashes”. He joked, “I know a Scotsman who loved a woman so much. He almost told her.”

The joke is that Scots are not very emotional. And yet, this song by Scotland’s National Poet, Robert Burns, is one of the most beautiful, touching, and emotional songs ever written.

There's naught but care on every hand, In every hour that passes, O! What signifies the life o' man, And 'twere not for the lasses O?

* Green grow the rashes O! Green grow the rashes O! The sweetest hour that e'er I spent Were spent among the lasses O!

The war'ly race may riches chase, And riches may soon fly them, O! And tho at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O!

But gie me a cannie hour at e'en My arms about my dearie, O! And war'ly cares and worldly men, May all gae tapsalteerie, O!

For you sae douce wha sneer at this, Ye're not but senseless asses, O! The wisest man the world e'er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O!

Auld Nature swears the lovely dears, Her noblest work she classes, O! Her apprentice hand she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O!

I don’t remember who I learned this song from. But I’ve always been a hopeful romantic. I loved it. Brobdingnagian Bards performed it regularly even before we recorded it for our album, Real Men Wear Kilts. However, I do remember Royce Perry was an inspiration for recording that CD.

Royce was the head of Clan Gunn in Texas. He was excited to have a Gunn singing Scottish songs for our clan. He was So very encouraging. I remember his gentle smile the most. It was very kind as he listened. It was us performing  this song that really made him happiest.

So when I finally re-recorded it for Scottish Songs of Drinking & Rebellion. He was in my thoughts.

Just read those lyrics and you’ll understand. Well, if you understand basic Scots. Robert Burns was apparently quite a ladies’ man. He said what was most important in life was spending time with a lady. The worldly man chases money. Money is fleeting and short lived. Just give me an hour with a woman. All the cares in the world will disappear.

The last verse is my favorite. Nature did some great things. She even made man while she was an apprentice. But then she mastered the art and created women.

How perfect!

I don’t play this song nearly enough these days since I have quite a few beautiful ballads. But it definitely stands out in my mind as being exceptional. It’s also a great song to sing at your annual Burns Supper. These are fancy dinners that celebrate the poetry of Robert Burns. Read more about Robert Burns on Wikipedia.

You can listen to it on my Scottish Songs of Drinking & Rebellion album on Bandcamp. The CD is in my Mage Records Store from February 1-10.

22:20 - “Green Grow the Rashes” from Scottish Songs of Drinking & Rebellion

26:34 - DOWNLOAD MY FREE EP

You can download all of my songs in this show. Just send me an email.  pubsong@celtfather

You will get an auto responder with a link to download this month’s album. You can also subscribe to the podcast if you’re not already subscribed. It’s quick and easy. But this is a free gift just for listening to the audio edition of my newsletter.

Let me know what you’re doing while listening to this episode.

27:02 - WATCH BURNS DAY SING ALONG

Three years ago, I played a Coffee with The Celtfather while I was still living in Birmingham. The show was dedicated to Robert Burns. It’s no longer publicly available. But you can watch it because you’re subscribed to my newsletter. Thank you!

Watch Robert Burns Sing Along.

BTW. If you enjoy shows like this, Coffee with The Celtfather is still going. However, it’s not exclusively available in the Gunn Runners Club on Patreon. The show starts back this Wednesday, January 18. But there will be a public show available on the 25th. Just remember the time moved up 30 minutes to 10:30.

28:30 - “The Moonshiner” from Irish Drinking Songs: The Cat Lover’s Companion

30:42 - JOIN THE CLUB

The show is brought to you by my Gunn Runners on Patreon. If you enjoy this podcast and my music, please join the Club. You get 4-10 new things every month. That includes bonus podcasts, downloadable songs, printed sheet music, blogs, stories from the road, and access to Coffee with The Celtfather video concerts.

Sign up for as little as $5 per month. And you can save 15% with an annual membership. Thanks to my newest Gunn Runners on Patreon:

31:20 - EMAIL CLEAN UP

I love email. It is the absolute best way for me us to communicate.

Unfortunately, if I send an email and there are a lot of dead email addresses on my list, then email servers get suspicious. They dump my emails into spam or promotional folders. That’s why I did some email clean up last week.

If you’re subscribed to my newsletter and regularly open an email. Then you’re all good. But if you don’t… then I might’ve sent you an email saying, “Goodbye”.

Those who didn’t respond were unsubscribed. Hopefully, this will mean those of you who want to hear from me will. I thank you for that.

32:27 - READ. HAVE YOU HEARD OF BUZZ STOPS?

This is cool. A bunch of bus shelters are converting their roofs to be green. They are filled with plants that attract pollinators, like bees.

The idea began in The Netherlands and spread to Sweden, Denmark, and now the UK. The idea is to offer a new way to support these vulnerable insects. Plus, it makes the city a bit prettier.

I’ve long thought that every the office buildings should have a garden on their rooftop to make the city more beautiful and to offer new ways to fight climate change.

Is this something that could work for your community?

You can read more about it here.

I learned about this from The Daily Difference. It’s a newsletter by the Carbon Almanac with practical tips on how to fight climate change, one action at a time.

34:22 - LISTEN. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE SCI F’IRISH SONGS?

I’m still working on this Spotify playlist. But I need your help. This could be something great.

What are some great Sci F’Irish songs that should be added?

Listen to Sci F’Irish music.

Send me your song request. I’ll send you access to the EP OF THE MONTH that I’m releasing as part of Atlanta Pub Songs & Stories. There’s a new EP every month.

35:19 - “Flower of Scotland” from Flower of Scotland by Kilted Kings

37:55 - CREDITS

Thanks for listening to Pub Songs & Stories. The show was produced by Marc Gunn, edited by Mitchell Petersen with graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs.

You can subscribe and listen to the show wherever you find podcasts. You can also subscribe to my mailing list. You will get regular updates of new music, podcasts, special offers, and you’ll get more stories behind several of my most-popular songs.

And of course, please tell one friend about this podcast. Word of mouth is the absolute best way to support any creative endeavor.

Have fun and sing along at www.pubsong.com!

#pubstories #robertburns

  Check out this episode!

[sundropskiesx]

(ANDREW GARFIELD,  HE/HIM,  CIS MALE)  careful  , ANDRE  HENDRIX has  arrived  to  the  city  of  dreams!!  they  look  THIRTY-FIVE  years  old  and  word  on  the  street  is  they  are  from  BROOKLYN, NEW YORK  and  currently  reside  in  GREENWICH VILLAGE.  They  are  currently  living  life  in  the  city  as  a  BARISTA AT JAVAWOCKY CAFE.  some  people  say  they  are IMPATIENT,  but  i  think  they  are  KIND HEARTED.  welcome  to  the  city  of  dreams,  ANDRE!  we  hope  you  enjoy  your  stay! 

FULL NAME: andre hendrix

NICKNAMES: boogaboo (his baby sister)

SEXUALITY & PRONOUNS: bi-curious

ROMANTIC STATUS: single

ZODIAC: capricorn 

HOGWARTS HOUSE: hufflepuff with gryffindor tendencies

PETS: two sugar gliders named THELMA & LOUIS

HOMETOWN: brooklyn, new york

CURRENT LOCATION: greenwich village

OCCUPATION:barista at javawocky cafe.

ROOMMATES: none at the moment (wc)

TATTOOS & PIERCINGS: tattoo of a small moon on his right wrist, the upper part of his right arm has a pair of harry potter glasses and lighting bolt tattooed (usually hidden beneath a shirt), a sleeve of different horror tattoos on his left arm, and his right ear has two piercings.

MUSE INSPO:nick miller + winston + ferguson (new girl), dale denton (pineapple express, seth rogan), wallace + scott (scott pilgrim vs the world, that gossipy bitch),fred wesley (harry potter) , j.d (scrubs), ross (friends), gambit (x-men), a little bit of everyone (the office)

MUSIC INSPO: welcome to the party - pop smoke, dopamine -borns, lost in the citadel - lil nas x, one more night- maroon 5, wicked games - the weekend, cherry -harry styles, lovefool -two colors (cover), myself - bazzi, burn the night away - there for tomorrow, kelsey -metro station, here comes the sun -the beatles

backstory:

in north of brooklyn born and raised on the playground is where andre spent most of his day! shootin’ some b-ball outside the school when a couple of guys, they were up to no good, started causing trouble in the neighborhood. he got into one little fight and his mom got scared and said “ YOU’RE MOVING WITH YOUR DADDY & STEPMOM TO ILLINOIS”  STOP THE THEME MUSIC AND CUE THE INTRO

andre hendrix, no relation to jimmy hendrix, was born into a somewhat strict but also laid back family. out of his cousins, and siblings, he was the most awkwardly charming one. where most people would shy away from an embarrassing situation, like falling in front of a group of people, andre embraced them. he never really was one to let life get him too down, as he always tried to be the sunshine in everyone’s world as much as possible. 

growing up he used to get into a lot of fights because he would never back down whenever someone was either picking on someone else, hounding their siblings, or trying to mess with him. he may have a heart of gold, but his spirit was that of a warrior, even andre wasn’t afraid to throw a punch here or there.

college was a blast for him! there he met a friend who he would grow very close with. nothing ever happened with them, though andre always wondered about what it would’ve been like to at least kiss him. in college he also met the girl that would become his girlfriend for five years. 

from the age of twenty all the way to the age of twenty-five the two had a honeymoon like relationship. andre gave her the moon and stars, and pretty much whatever else she wanted. and he truly did think they would end up married one day.  he was actually a week away from proposing to her when everything changed for him one morning. to this day he still doesn’t know why she up and left, leaving behind a post it note saying ‘you can do better. xoxo.’ and an empty pregnancy box in the bathroom. was she pregnant? was she not? andre never found out and the question has haunted him to this day.

fast forwarding a couple of years down, many game, anime shows, and crime documentaries later the guy is now working as a barista in greenwich village. he sometimes helps out at backstage productions as a tech. for the most part he’s either at work or skateboarding at the nearest skate park. that or he’s hanging out with his bestie elijah ‘eli’ kennedy. 

[kingofthehilltoday]

King of the hill review s1e1 "Pilot"

(I'm gonna start watching koth and typing these out season by season, depending on my work schedule/metnal healt will depend on how often I put them out, with the occasional single episode ones like this one which I've already typed up so much for. A lot of people seemed to like just the Meer idea of this so im gonna finish this one and post it)

We're introduced to the main characters surrounding a truck with the hood up. The first lines of dialogue they have in the series is their iconique "yep" "yep" "yep" "mhm" followed by a short silence (aside from the alcohol consumption).

Bill is the one to break the silence and demonstrates his understanding of automobile engines.

He is followed by Dale who demonstrates himself as an idiot. "Ford stands for: Fix It Again Tony."

Boomhauer, who without subtitles i wouldn't have been able to understand, also demonstrates he understands automobiles.

Hank who does not have the courtesy of subtitles does not understand what Boomhauer says and brushes him off and instead dribbles on about George Bush in Japan? This establishes his conservativeness/dumbness (if there's that much of a difference between the two.)

Hank grabs more beer and Dale breaks off into asking about a new episode of Seinfeld dating the beginning of the show.

Boomhauer immediately starts squaking about it.

This episode of Koth aired January 12 1997, although it doesn't seem to take place in a winter month. Most likely a spring one. I want to say the episode that Boomhauer is talking about is The Wig Master (April 4, 1996) as it is an episode that features Kramer and Kramer is the subject of Boomhauers tangent.

Boomhauer ends his giggling with "Just a show about nothin." And the theme song begins to play. A good introduction into what King of the Hill is about, and so far a great way to start the show off.

Theme song ends and Hank enters Bobby's room, despite Bobby telling him he wouldn't like it Hank decides to listen to Bobby's music to find: he doesn't like it. Admittedly because it isn't music (which Hank claims to like new generation music) but because instead it's just a fart? Bobby for some reason just listens to farts.... I guess this does establish that the boy ain't right....

Hank leaves Bobby's room telling him to get ready for the game, which Bobby is clearly already dressed for?

Luanne shows she hasn't learned how to lock the bathroom door when Hank busts in to a fully toweled Luanne. He still avoids looking at her the entire time after the initial door opening. Luanne gives slight exposition by explaining her parents are currently fighting, giving her a reason to be in the Hill House.

Hank, Bobby, and Peggy pile into a car and head to the game. Peggy tells Bobby to do his best and Hank insists he should give it 110% instead of 100%. They then keep suggest 1% higher until Peggy says 13 is an unlucky number. The driving scene ends with Hank miffed saying "just give it 112%."

At the game Bobby shows his inability to play baseball and Hank shows how overzealous he is about getting Bobby to play. Bobby gets hit with a ball when he's not paying attention giving set up for future events within the episode.

Hank Hill stops at the Mega Lo Mart for WD-40. Its not that important that I mention the WD-40. I just like the way he says Dubya Dee Fordy.

Two gossips see Hank interact with Buckley (who doesn't seem to recognize Hank, let alone where he even is in the store) along with Bobby who has a black eye following close behind him.

As Hank gets more and more frustrated with Buckley, Bobby begins swinging a cardboard tube around like a baseball bat. The gossips see Hank with his temper and wonder if he gave Bobby the black eye (theyre voiced by Nancy and Peggy without changing the voices even a little bit). Bobby swings the bat a little too close to some cans and knocks them over prompting Hank to scream YOU'RE FIRED (???? who gave Hank the authority???) at Buckley when he tells Hank that he'll have to pay for the damages.

The two gossips' words spread around and eventually get to the erroneously named Arlen County Child Protective Services (I suppose Heimlich County hasn't been established yet). And we're introduced to Anthony Page whos proportions make him look like he's in the wrong cartoon.

We cut back to hank and friends and Dale goes on his rant about Glo-Bal warming. He says we'll grow oranges in Alaska. Hank calls him a giblet head and tells Dale he'll hold him personally responsible if Texas gets any hotter in the summer. His anger is further pushed by a thumping noise.

Which we see is Bobby playing ball in the house while watching TV. He accidentally smacks his mother in the face with it when she pauses to lament about a man on TV who had botched surgery.

Bobby is once again throwing the ball in the house, enter the social worker, and Hank fixing his truck. The sound distracts Dale from pointing the flashlight correctly which then causes Hank to screw up and the hood of his car to fall on him and Dale runs off instead.

"Hank is as gentle as a lamb," says Peggy followed by Hank barging in, grabbing the baseball and throwing it screaming, "STOP BOUNCING THAT BALL!" Note: the ball zoomed past Mr. Page and into the street making a glass shattering noise. What glass he could have shattered at that angle I'm not quite sure of.

After Tony insinuates the bruise on Peggy's head was caused by the same ball they told him hit Bobby in the eye, he asks if Bobby is their only child. Peggy manages to tell this random dude about Hank's narrow urethra and Hank gets loud.

Our Italian alien looking friend tells Hank "Loud is not Allowed." This sets Hank off on a rant about how he works for a living as opposed to writing down nonsense. This is the first mention of Hank's job selling Propane and Propane Accessories.

Hank's face turns visibly red as talks about his tax dollars going to fund... CPS? I understand that twig boy is very much not doing any actual investigation and is completely biased but... come on now Hank? Chuld protective services?? Anyways Hank asks for some B.C. Headache Powder and a glass of water. He then proceeds to yell at Anthony again and threatens him to get out before he gives HIM a black eye. Not the best choice of words there Hank. Also both of these rants are set to the National Anthem for some reason.

Our self proclaimed hero of this story then goes on to interview neighbors about Hank. Starting with Dale who is interrupted by Nancy leaving to get a headache treatment from John Redcorn. "You've been going to that healer for 12 years and you still get headaches every night." Imagine getting dicked down roughly 4380 days in a row.

After Nancy leaves it goes back to our city slicker asking if Hank has ever hit his child which Dale explains that Bobby is his pride and joy because of his Narrow Urethra. Very interesting world where Dale knows Hank has a narrow urethra but not that his own wife is cheating on him. Joseph is introduced and the paper white boy does a double take as he's the spitting image of John Redcorn.

Boomhauer has mistaken the defunct social worker as??? Someone whos there to do something about a barking dog? Once again if not for the subtitles I'd be lost on what he's saying but what the hell is he talking about. Our pencil pusher backs away slowly.

Bobby and Joseph are trying to get pebbles into the exhaust of the truck in the next scene, impressively they make a few shots. Joseph asks to reassure that Hank does not in fact hit him and Bobby confirms that Hank is all Bark and proceeds to mock the propane salesman. Joseph proceeds to try and while he's making fake threats in Hank's voice our Valiant Savior overhears and somehow mistakes his voice to actually be Hank's....

Cut to the actual Hank and he's found Luanne's panties. They're very cute pink ones. Peggy calls Luanne in to Hank's protests and she comes in crying and expositions about her mother attempting to stab her father with a fork then being sent to jail. She says her trailer was tipped over but does not elaborate as to how. Although she does say it will be on a TV show! Kind of wish theyd make an episode out of that alone.

Hank assures Luanne as best he can and lets her know she can stay with them until her mom comes home. Hank offers to let her use power tools to style a wig that was also damaged in the process of the trailer being flipped over. This immediately calms Ms. Platter.

A doorbell is heard and the Hills (minus Luanne) answer the door to find Our Holy King making his return to try to get our Poor Abused Child to come outside and go live with a family in North Arlen (not even gonna try to find somewhere in a different town??) Hank tries to offer him Luanne instead. The social worker makes an effort to try to get Bobby to come with him but Bobby clearly doesn't care or want to go. Hank chases him away and even hits his car, Ladybird making her first appearance running with him and barking at Anthony.

Mr. Page is confronted by his boss about not having found any actual abuse but recommending state custody. He called the entire neighborhood redneck city to a man with a strong country accent, bruh. The boss asks him if he talked to the little league coach, WHICH THE BOSS KNOWS BY NAME (Harvey) and our Los Angeles boy is sweatin fierce.

Cut back to Hank and Peggy with their ears covered they come outside to BOBBY WITH A STOP SIGN HE CUT DOWN USING A DRILL THAT HE'S HITTING WITH A HAMMER??? How did he get a Fucking Stop Sign??? Hank immediately yells at Bobby about this and Bobby calmly states back that Hank can't yell at him or the state will take him away. This frustrates Hank but he does his best not to outburst again after Bobby picks up the stop sign and runs away dragging it behind him.

Once inside the house Bobby answers a call from CPS, they inform him the case has been dropped and our boy from L.A. will be heading back home. He chooses not to tell his parents instead opting to tell them it was a wrong number. After this scene the stop sign is never seen again 😔.

Hank apparently makes bacon and mayo sandwiches. Hold the bacon grease. No wait he adds the bacon grease back. Luanne comes into the kitchen and demonstrates that she knows more about cars than any of the guys as she has fixed his truck's problem: a clogged fuel line.

We cut to Hank outside the garage asking Bobby to plug in a power tool in the garage, Robert (with Joseph in tow) agrees and does so but also grabs the opener and starts opening and closing the door on his father. Hank begins to yell again and Bobby reminds him that it isn't proper adult-child conversation. Hank settles down a bit and through gritted teeth asks Bobby to return it to factory setting of down and walks away. Joseph is very pleased by this.

We then see a montage of similar things happening in succession. Bobby knocking a fence down with a bat, dressing ladybird up and taking pics of her on his mower, and finally spraying Hank with a hose. As he does this the Anthony's ex boss comes over and knocks on the door.

We cut over to Bobby in his bed making sound effects. He is informed by Peggy that the man came over and told them the investigation was off. Bobby says he likes his father better this way he can "make him love me even when I screw up" and Peggy asks if he really thinks that.

Peggy is shown going into the bedroom (not really sure if this is their bedroom... there is a picture of cotton on the wall [pre shin loss] and it doesn't look like their bedroom in future episodes) and she insists Hank vocally tell Bobby that he loves him. Hank explains that he can't do that "you know how I was raised" followed by a flashback of a young Hank and a shinless Cotton telling Hank not to cry about his knee scrape.

Hank heads out to the porch to talk to Bobby who is sitting on lawn furniture. And Hank stumbles over words trying to explain to Bobby that he cares for him. Bobby doesn't understand and Hank makes some weird voice cracking sound. "You.... family." Hank then, after little bit more stumbling, manages to blurt out "ILoveYouNoMatterWhatYouDo." And then offers food.

Bobby asks if he's not a disappointment and Hank assures him that he's proud of him and cares for him. He then play fights with Bobby and the city boy sees it and proclaims he was right but is cut off by another passenger and says "never mind." And the episode fades to black. Cue theme song.

The quoted line at the end of the episode is blank. This episode predates that tradition apparently.

Okay so now for some more of my own thoughts

I joked around a lot but I do see where the social worker is coming from on some level. He believed he was investigating a case of abuse. He just wasn't very smart about it. He really should have talked to the coach immediately after hearing about the baseball incident. Or literally anyone that could have been at the game that day. That's all it would have taken and he would have still have had a job. But it's a good thing he doesn't anymore because his own negligence could have separated a family.

I won't claim they're the most functional family. But if the most Hank does (up until this point, not gonna count that awful smoking ep just yet) is simply yell at Bobby then they're a much better family than I had growing up. Does Hank need to work on his anger issues? From this episode alone I'd say a solid Yes. He was a dick to a store employee which is very much not a cool thing to do. There was some justification in being angry at Bobby, I mean the kid tortured him at the end there, but he should have sought a better release than the one he had.

Overall I'd say this is a really good episode to start the series on, it's entertaining and funny and properly builds up the world.

[fandoms-unite]

A List of Things from The Unsleeping City: Episode 4

"Kugrash is one of Sofia's triggers" made me want to cry

Ana and Amelia have arrived!!!

"I'm going to act like we're not fucking friends in real life, but we are so fucking tight in here." - Cody to the devil in his chest

The bit of Cody continuing to smoke in the hospital only to be yelled at by all the other characters

"I'm the Vox Populi and I don't like people." - Kingston

Ricky's determination to like Cody despite reassurance from the other characters that it's okay if he doesn't

"Listen, the blade is a controlled weapon" - Cody, right before he takes out his sword in the middle of a hospital

I'm here for Iga's commitment to passing down culture traditions to her daughter

Ricky's small "Be careful" when Cody burns his hand on a sword followed by Zac's explanation of Ricky's Dad Energy

WHY WAS AN IMAGE OF ESTHER IN THE MIST?

I bet the mist creates nightmares or manifests fears/insecurities. it's gotta be a product of/corrupted by the raw umbral arcana that seeped into the box.

DOES THAT MEAN RICKY FEARS LOSING ESTHER??

Pete's clocking Esther's attitude toward Iga and Cody and making a point to befriend them gave me hope. Such a Soft Boi.

SPEAKING OF COUPLES

DALE + SOFIA = NYC DREAM COUPLE

I'm going to fight Tony Simos if he even comes NEAR Pete

Also, Ricky's commitment to watching out for Cody as a paladin is important to me

I'm a big fan of Iga's box and want to learn more about it

Kingston taking a long walk around the neighborhood and giving out homemade muffins to everyone who has been losing their homes and livelihood was such a melancholy scene

DEVIN

Pete's sobriety die went up!

"Are they from Jersey?" "Yeah, it's the Jersey Devil, I'm so sorry." *Ally flips off Brennan*

In other news, I'm so excited to meet the Jersey Devil in the next episode as well as seeing Cody's interactions with the other characters when he has to admit he's the one that indirectly summoned the Devil to NYC

[thebachelordiaries]

Clare seeks HIMBO: ‘The Bachelorette’ cast first impressions

The Covid-19 pandemic has been rough for the entire world, but Bachelor Nation faced some dark days too. Going eight months without a single new episode from The Bachelor franchise is something I would really like to not relive.

Fortunately, those dark days are over. Clare’s season has me sucked back in. 

The quality of this image is atrocious.

Most of these men—presuming they followed CDC’s social distancing guidelines— haven’t seen a woman in months, are touch deprived, possibly unemployed and contemplating moving back to their hometown while stalking the housing market on Zillow. Everyone’s desperate. That makes for some pretty good TV.

This season features men ranging from ages 26 to 41. We’ve got a boy band manager, a grooming specialist, several men who look like they masturbate in front of full length mirrors and even more who probably want me to join their MLM pyramid scheme. 

I’ve never been more ready to roast a bunch of men who have nightmares about going bald. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since March.

Let’s go:

AJ, 28, Software sales

AJ is the kind of guy who writes “Looking for the Pam to my Jim <3″ on his Bumble profile. His bio is generic and probably not reflective of who he is as a person. If I were Clare I’d swipe left.

Ben, 29, Army ranger veteran

“Ben's favorite indulgence is an ice bath.“ Well then.

Alexa, play “Run” by AWOLNATION.

Bennett, 36, Wealth management consultant

Bennett’s profile is the biggest red flag I’ve ever seen. This man says he is the total package but hasn’t always been "this successful and good looking.” But wait, there’s more: “According to Bennett, his high school girlfriend is the only girl he's ever had to work for.“

Can someone tell me what NYC neighborhood he lives in so I can blacklist it?

Blake M1, 31, Male grooming specialist

Blake’s just another stereotypical “29th round draft pick who sat on the bench of the practice team before getting cut, but claims he left the sport due to an injury on his own accord.” 

Blake M2, 29, Wildlife manager

This Blake is an outdoorsy Canadian who seems pretty genuine and cool. Unfortunately, he has the face of someone who’d get sent home on night one. I hope I’m wrong.

Brandon, 28, Real Estate Agent

Just another boring hot person. Nothing to see here.

Brendan, 30, Commercial roofer

Brandan, not to be confused for Brandon, “loves some good true crime, working out and hanging out with his friends.” I can’t even make fun of this man. We have the exact same interests. 

Chasen, 31, IT account executive

The Winklevoss twins are actually triplets and Chasen is their long lost brother. But more seriously, have you ever seen someone who looks more like their name than this man?

Chris, 27, Landscape design salesman

“Chris hopes to find a woman who is sharp and witty but also easygoing.” Chris, sweetheart, have you met Clare? Easygoing...? There’s still time back out of this before it’s too late.

Dale, 31, Former pro football wide receiver

Dale aggressively screams “Bachelor material.” I’d say he’s auditioning for that role but Matt James already scooped it up. Better luck next year, Daley.

Demar, 26, Spin cycling instructor

Demar is a “very popular spin instructor in Scottsdale and says he can get on that bike and spin to any beat thrown his way.” Imagine how many trophy wives Demar has f*cked? 

Eazy, 29, Sports marketing agent

Eazy is very similar to Dale on paper. Except his name is Eazy so he automatically loses that battle.

Ed, 33, Health care salesman

“Ed is looking to find a woman who has natural beauty without looking overly fake.” Ed deserves to die alone.

Garin, 34, Professor of Journalism

Garin’s bio is giving me hubby material vibes. And maybe a little bit of a “gets eliminated on night one” vibe too.

Ivan, 28, Aeronautical Engineer

Ivan, what are you doing here? We’re in a recession. Please go back to your normal job before it’s too late. 

Jason, 31, Former pro football linemen

“He is a former NFL offensive lineman who, after suffering too many concussions on the field, decided to prioritize his health and change the direction of his life.” A big, brawny HIMBO with CTE? I feel like he’s Clare’s type.

Jay, 29, Fitness director

There are too many things about Jay that I dislike and I’m trying to keep this brief. Jay says “it's time to take a break from worrying about others and focus on himself instead.” I am willing to bet money that this man has never made a woman c*m.

Jeremy, 40, Banker

Jeremy is the oldest contestant ever to come on "The Bachelorette,” which may seem like a monuments accomplishment but he’s literally only one year older than Clare. 

He also “hates Instagram models, both male and female,” so he should have a lot of fun here.

Joe, 36, Anesthesiologist

Before I even saw his profession and location, I thought Joe looked like a doctor I’d find on a NYC dating app...and...uh...I probably did see him on there now that I think about it.

Anyway, this man has apparently been through seven stages of hell while on the front lines fighting Covid-19 in NYC so I definitely think he deserves to find love. Someone marry him please.

Jordan C, 26, Software account executive

I can already tell Jordan is going to get the “I’m young but mature” edit which means he’s probably not going to be good TV.

Too bad someone a tad younger (like Tayshia) wasn’t the Bachelorette. I feel like they’d make a cute couple.

Jordan M., 30, Cyber security engineer

I was going to say something mean but Jordan’s into cyber security and I don’t want my blog to be deactivated, so never mind. Cast photos are historically bad so I’m sure he looks much better in real life.

Kenny, 39, Boy band manager

I could go for the obvious drags regarding this man’s profession (or his sh*tty chest tattoo, or his suspiciously boyish face relative to his age), but I like to think I’m more clever than that. 

I’d like to take this time to talk about men, who are obviously difficult people, who rant and rave about how they want an “easygoing” woman. Look into the mirror, bud. No, not the one you use to jerk off to your reflection; the mirror that looks into your soul. Out of respect for the rest of humankind, have some self-awareness. Or maybe just see a therapist.

Mike, 38, Digital media advisor

Mike is seemingly a decent catch, but I can’t help but wonder why he’s still single or how he never (accidentally or on purpose) impregnated a woman in his 38 years of life. 

And now that I’m thinking about it, do any of these men have children? I have yet to see any mention of it in their bios. But there are eight men left to review, so there’s still time.

Page, 37, Chef

I spoke too soon. Page is a father! He also hates football! I’m a fan of this man. I was initially going to drag him for his name and say that Page is not a real name. PAIGE is a real name. PAGE is a piece of paper. I’m allowed to say this because we have the same name except mine is spelled the correct way. Based on my (mostly positive) review of his cast bio, I have decided not to hold his name against him.

Riley, 30, Long Island City

Riley, once married with children, would like to go on a family vacation that consists of touring every single MLB stadium in the country. If i were his wife, I would simply never give this man children.

Robby, 30, Insurance broker

No more Robbys on The Bachelorette. Society has evolved past its need for more Robbys.

This Robby described his dream woman as: “Incredibly athletic and able to throw back a few beers with him after a day of hiking. She has a sweet personality and won't mind that he spends his Sundays on the golf course.”

Someone please give this man a sex doll. He just wants a hole.

Tyler C., 27, Lawyer

“Tyler C. is a badass lawyer who says he is a businessman by day and a cowboy by night.” How does that make him a lawyer? Does this mean he’s into cosplay? I’m confused.

Tyler S., 36, Music manager

Tyler makes an honorable living off riding his brother’s dick success as a country singer. “He just LOVES his job!” Uh yeah, I would too if I had a low-show, high-paying job off the merits of nepotism. It’s the American dream.

Yosef, 30, Medical device salesman

Another dad! He’s totally going to pull the “girl dad” narrative. That saying is kind of sexist to me but the masses generally eat it up, so I’m fairly confident Yosef will get the "sweet guy” edit he’s looking for.

Zac C., 36, Addiction specialist

“He loves Philadelphia sports and dreams of sharing a Philly Cheesesteak with his future wife while watching the Eagles win a Super Bowl.” This man is so South Jersey it hurts. 

On a more serious note, I don’t think anyone in recent history has spoken openly about their personal struggle with addiction on this show, so I hope Zac gets a chance to tell his story. 

Zach J., 37, Cleaning service owner

Zach is seemingly obsessed with Clare already and hopes to introduce her to his mom as his fiancée. Since Zach watched Clare on Juan Pablo’s season, you’d think he’d know that Clare would first meet his mom during the final four hometown dates. Assuming he makes it that far. My prediction is that he won’t.

Final thoughts

After eight long months Bachelor Mondays are back!!!

Uhh....wait.

Actually, we now have the less-exciting Bachelor Tuesdays. Yeah, it definitely doesn’t have the same ring to it. But I’ll take anything at this point.

Here are my final predictions:

First impression rose: Dale. It just looks like he can turn on the bullsh*t charm

Final rose: Jason. Clare wants a HIMBO I just know it.

Bachelor: nobody (Matt James is The Bachelor)

Most likely to get engaged on Bachelor in Paradise: Blake M2

Most likely to get canceled online: Bennett

Most likely to get sent home night one but deserve better: Chris

Who are your favorite men cast on this season?

[hawkephobe-justice]

There are many things in the Dragon Age series that I am willing to attribute to bad or messy writing. I recognize elements of the writing that seem to be aimed at pitting different minority groups against each other, including fictional minorities, real minorities, and fictional minorities coded to represent real minorities, all of which exist. There is one major writing decision, however, namely one character, who, in the face of all of this, absolutely makes my blood boil.

Sebastian Vael.

(Warnings for this post: genocide, Christian colonialism, mentions of the Holocaust, my Jewish opinions)

He’s a popular character. He has a nice voice and some people dislike him for the wrong reasons. There are sympathetic elements to his backstory. However, I rather dislike him, for reasons I haven’t seen many people talk about.

But before we get into all the reasons I dislike Sebastian, I feel that it is important to keep in mind how coding impacts a narrative, as well as authorial intent. When an author makes the decision to code a fictional thing as being parallel to a real-life thing, even if it’s badly done overall, there will still be elements of that coding that come through and people for whom it hits home. I want to make it clear that while neither elves nor mages are a perfect parallel to any minority group in real life, the way they are written hits home for an audience member like me in different ways, especially in DA:2.

With that said, I’d like to draw your attention to something alluded to during Anders’ Act 2 quest, Dissent.

“The Tranquil Solution.”

An obvious, if hamfisted, Holocaust parallel. Given the way it was narratively treated (Meredith rejected it, so it’s not that big of a deal, right? Right?), it was definitely an authorial misstep to make that comparison. However, that does not mean that the comparison was not made or should not be discussed. Every writing decision has its consequences that have to be thought out.

So what is the meaning, then, when Sebastian says to Anders, “So your ‘Tranquil Solution’ was hardly the holocaust you imagined”?

Given all the effort to make this real world comparison, I can tell you what it means: Sebastian is written and coded as a Holocaust denier. And contrary to other things that might be chalked up to bad writing, there is nothing about him as a character that this contradicts or weakens.

He doesn’t seem to care too much about the other major Chantry-influenced genocide, for instance. For all his talk about wanting the Chantry to be more welcoming to elves, he never once acknowledges that it was the Chantry that made an Exalted March on the Dales, killing many of them and forcing the rest into exile and slums. And while that could be shrugged off due to misinformation, he seems quite invested in knowing if everyone has heard the good word of our savior Andraste, more so than other human Andrastian characters and with maybe a particular fixation on the two elves in the party. Keep in mind that Andrastianism is fantasy Christianity and that elves are said to have been inspired by indigenous, Romani, and Jewish people.

He begins banters with Merrill and Fenris with “Have you heard the Chant of Light?” or “Are you an Andrastian?” While to many in the audience this could read as simple curiosity, to me (as a Jewish person who grew up in a majority Christian neighborhood) it sounds just a little too much like “Have you heard the good word?” or “Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior?” This is a very good post about similar leading questions. I would mention his comments on the Qun (such as the “heathen elves” comment) in Mark of the Assassin, but that would open a whole other can of messy coding worms.

It’s worth noting that Sebastian was written by Jennifer Hepler, the same person who wrote Anders, Bethany, and Cullen in DA:2 and who contributed to writing Cassandra in DA:I before leaving Bioware. It has been discussed at length how her take on Anders was written with the intent of making the audience hate him. The DLC, including Bethany’s Circle and Warden banter as well as Sebastian’s entire character, was written and released later. Am I saying that Sebastian was written to make people hate Anders? I’m not saying that it’s his character’s whole purpose, but authorial bias certainly plays a part in his narrative role, particularly in The Last Straw.

Many of his fans invoke death of the author with regards to the above, and I don’t slight them for that - I frequently invoke death of the author myself, particularly in my enjoyment of characters who were written with the intent of making the audience hate them, which includes characters like Anders and characters like Vivienne. The problem is, when the author is dead, what are we left with? A corrupt priest who genuinely believes that the clergy is doing the right thing and ignores their crimes, up to and including genocide.

Am I disappointed that Hepler, a white writer, is using a character of color as her mouthpiece for these takes? Yes. Do I criticize white characters with similar takes in the same way? Yes, I am heavily critical of Cullen and Aveline. Do I think better things could have been done with Sebastian’s character? Yes, an ideal character arc for Sebastian (at least in my opinion) would have explored and deconstructed his Chantry upbringing and the way Elthina in particular manipulates him. Maybe in more capable writing hands (Sheryl Chee, for example, who wrote Leliana in all three games) he could have had that kind of arc.

Unfortunately, we have what we have: a corrupt priest who genuinely believes that the clergy is doing the right thing and ignores their crimes, up to and including genocide.

I recognize that there are many reasons for liking a character and I’m not saying you can’t like a character like Sebastian. Just… maybe have some of this in mind.

[corpse--diem]

Blood On Your Knees | solo

Summary: A plan comes together. When: Sunday, June 7th Guest Starring: @streetharmacist and @detectivedreameater

“You have one week.”

Roy’s voice echoed in her head, followed only by the silence that came with that smirk of his. The one that knew Erin couldn’t fight this. Knew that he and he alone had all of the power between them. And now that Sunday night had arrived, it meant two things: Dale would be due for his weekly pick-up and that her time was up. This was happening. This was really, really fucking happening.

Trying to focus on anything but what she was about to do had been a complete joke. By the time Friday rolled around, she gave up on work all together and put her energies where they needed to be. Planning and preparation was a fluid motion once she let her brain do what it needed to.

When Sunday night came, it was all set. Every part. She was ready. And even if she wasn’t, she had no choice.

Just as Erin predicted, Dale didn’t see the blow coming when he strutted into the funeral home basement like he had every other Sunday before then. One good knock upside the head with the baseball bat laid him flat—no fighting, no bickering, no squirming around the inevitable. She couldn’t afford those kind of mistakes tonight, and she’d been right for thinking that. A cold chill went up her spine when she found the rope alongside the gun on the inside of his jacket. Seemed like Dale had plans tonight, too. She wouldn’t allow her imagination to wreak havoc. Put her nose to the grind and got to work.

It got easier once she cuffed him, rolled his behemoth of a body into a black body bag. Easier. Fucking weird thought too. But he still alive. Just out like a light. The corpse lifts had done the rest of the more backbreaking work for her, and before she knew it, she was slipping him into the back of the hearse. Like any other body on any other day.

The warehouse set up at Finney Docks was just a short drive from there. He’d woken up at some point, which made it easier to slip him inside. Blood dripped profusely from the splinter above his eyebrow. He tried to argue, to fight, to beg for his life--but when she cocked the gun against the back of his skull, for the first time since she’d known him, Dale shut the fuck up. Nic had shown her the very basics of how to handle the pistol in her hands, how to make it do the one thing she needed it to. Enough to handle herself right here and now. And maybe it was the gun, maybe it was the foreboding darkness of the dusty warehouse and a baseball that had struck the fear of God into him good and hard. Maybe he just knew his time was up, but he marched onwards into the building.

“Sit,” she instructed simply, giving him a shove towards one of two metal folding chairs in the center of the large room. Her hands were shaking but she gave no indication of it in her voice. It’ll be over soon, she kept reminding herself. It was her or him. Her or him. Those were the only two options.

His bloody, cracked smile unnerved and disgusted her in equal measures. He must have cracked a tooth or two when he face-planted in the basement earlier. It took him a moment, sluggish and disoriented, but he managed to sit.

“Guess this means you’re breakin’ up with me, sweets?” Dale chuckled until a cough overtook him. Spat blood at her feet. Metal handcuffs rattled against the chair as he struggled to get comfortable. For all his bravado, he was fading a little bit at a time.

There were a thousand things she’d been dying to say to this ogre of a man since the moment she’d figured out what he’d done. What he was going to do to her. And she’d be a liar if she pretended she hadn’t pictured whacking him with her baseball bat months ago. He deserved it. He deserved this--but now that she was faced with this--with him--the only thing she felt right now was sick. Roy’s smirk flashed in front of her again and she steeled up quick. Just get this over with, she told herself. But then his goddamn voice broke through her thoughts.

“Christ almighty. Of all fucking people, it ends with fucking you.” His laugh was low and sardonic now. He knew it was over, just as much as she knew did. Knew he’d gotten himself in too deep to back out. Knew he’d been outsmarted. Dale grit his teeth, trying to hold back his seething while she still had that gun in her hand. He honestly had to wonder if she even knew how to use the damn thing.

Fuck it. If he was gonna go down, he’d go down swinging.

“I guess you wanna know why? That’s why you brought me out here?” He asked. Knowing how this ended didn’t mean he couldn’t at least try to buy himself more time.

Erin shook her head, taking a seat in the other chair across from him. Raised a brow and shook her head. “I really don’t care why,” she shrugged. When it came down to it, it was greed. It was always greed. Greed and fear and idiocy. That’s what had put her father into an early grave, hadn’t it? Her elbows rested on her knee as she leaned forward, the gun still aimed at him. “I brought you out here so no one would hear you scream.” Not her best line, or the most original. Just the honest truth. 

He stiffened at that. Still, another strained laugh overtook him and this time he shook his head. “Oooh, real fuckin’ tough now, aren’t ya?” He craned his neck, taking a glance around, as if somewhere within the shadows would be a way out. “Nah, I don’t mean that. Think it’s pretty obvious.” He dropped his head back, giving it a good roll, easing some of the tension from his neck and shoulders. When no hint of recognition flashed over her face, just more confusion, he gave a hard pause. Oh, perfect. This was the set up he was looking for. Tit for fuckin’ tat.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know about Mama Nichols? The hell was her name. Didi? Deb?” He made a smacking noise with his lips when it came to him. “Diane.” He met her eyes with that question and her face gave her away the second he saw the blood drain from it. She sure as fuck hadn’t expected that.

“Oh, you’ve got no fucking clue.” He gave a heartier laugh this time, throwing his head back.

Erin stood so fast the chair behind her clattered to the ground. “I swear to God, Dale,” she tensed, both hands on the gun as she pointed it just inches from his face.

His smile soured. “I’ll tell ya if you give me a kiss--” he barely had time to make those obnoxious puckering motions before Erin pulled the trigger. She hadn’t meant to--didn’t even think when she did it. Some instinct had been prodded and a white hot bolt shot through her. She dropped her hand and the bullet obliterated his kneecap. The sound was deafening and the shot startled even herself as it gave a little kick. But fuck did his howl of pain sound sweeter than anything she’d heard in months. “Jesus Christ, you crazy fucking bitch!”

Holy fuck, she did that. She shook but didn’t move. Didn’t back off. “Talk,” she shouted above his crying and she pointed to his other knee. That anger was alive, unfolding and taking control. Doing what needed to be done. “NOW,” she instructed, kicking the leg she’d just blown a hole in.

“Your dipshit dad got behind! He--he--” Dale was stuttering, gritting his teeth through the pain, but he made sure to show that he was cooperating. He was still baffled that the mortician had it in her. “Chambers wanted to send a-a message. Fuck. Wanted to make sure he knew his place, that--that this wasn’t some friendly neighborhood loan shark kinda set-up he had going on.” Dale hesitated, taking a moment to holler out another string of obscenities  Found her eyes again just for a second. Something he didn’t want to say was written in every pore, every dark crease filled with dried blood. Knew his time was coming to a close real fucking soon. But she saw it. That fear. He swallowed hard, took a long look at the gun. Now that he knew she wasn’t afraid to use it, he was going to make sure this hurt as much as the fresh new hole in his fucking knee did.

“Last thing his old lady ever saw was my beautiful, shit-eatin’ grin.”

Erin couldn’t breathe. For a few seconds, she genuinely had forgotten how to. Everything was red. All-consuming, molten red.

The whole fucking time--

“You--” the rest of the words caught in her throat. Dale. She slowly lowered the gun as it sunk in. Bile rose in her throat and she was seconds from losing it. And if he hadn’t taken that time to kick the gun out of her hand with his one good leg, she probably would have. It was a stupid, last-ditch effort on his part and he hurled himself at her, slamming her back into the concrete below. Swore she saw actual stars when he slammed his whole head into her face, dizzying her up enough to give him time to hobble a few feet away.

It took some effort but she was on him before he could get even close to the gun or the exit. One good kick to the legs floored him. And another once he was down. Another, and another, one to the gut and another at his head. Her mother’s smile flashed in her mind’s eye and she finally stopped. Had to force herself to stop. No, no, no. He didn’t get to go out like this. This was too easy. Rage had replaced every other quaking emotion inside of her.

Erin caught her breath, wiping a shaking hand over her mouth.There was blood on her lips and she could feel the warm pulse where his bald head had slammed into her cheek. Her other hand waved to the shadows around them, beckoning them forward.

“This is gonna hurt,” she promised.

The element of surprise was an often overlooked thing. But it had its uses, and it had proved very useful for everyone tonight. Because even as Dale lay face down in a pool of his own blood, he hadn’t seen this last surprise coming, had he? How could he have? He had no idea about her. And when she’d stepped from the shadows, pulling them around her like a blanket as her body came back into the world of the visible, his eyes widened in disbelief. Red eyes formed in the room around them and shone directly down at him, a wicked smile below.

Marley walked calmly over to Erin and Dale, sputtering on the ground. She supposed she could’ve stepped in earlier, but this was Erin’s prey, and she was there to act when wanted. If he’d gotten to the door, she was sure she would’ve stepped in-- she wanted to see this man suffer, too. Perhaps not as much as Erin did, especially after that riveting exchange about her mother, but that didn’t change the fact that Marley would relish in destroying a man like Dale. A man who took advantage of those weaker than him. Well, now, he was the weak one.

She didn’t bother with the gun next to her, or the one on her hip.

Instead she kneeled in front of him, grabbed his chin, made sure he was looking directly into her eyes. “I would say I wonder what a man like you fears, Dale,” she cooed, “but I already know.” Still, she let it was through him, over him, consume him. He was crying out within a few seconds and she was smiling. The taste of it was like a fresh spring’s water and she lapped it up.

But it was time, now, and for Erin, she would make sure he suffered. Nothing quick, nothing easy. Her hand smothered his mouth and lips, and as she drew it away slowly, so did she draw away his breath. He gasped and gagged for air, wheezing as his lungs expended themselves. Minutes passed as he gaped for it, inhaling uselessly. His face turning red then blue then pale, eyes searching desperately.

But by the time she stood up straight over him, hand balled into a fist, he had stopped sputtering. She opened her hand and blew into her palm, as if blowing away the ash or dust of his breath. Turned back to look at Erin. “What next?”

In the end, the long sleep came for everyone. Even the fools that thought they were above it. It would get their hands on them and drag them down, one way or the other. The fae had spent a few days ruminating on the concept of mortality and he had to say, Dale’s blood went real well with the Hawaiian shirt he wore. Really brought out the desperation and stupidity in his eyes. Felix wasn’t the type to get up close and personal, even though the knife up his sleeve digressed. He saved that for special occasions. The real black tie events and Dale wasn’t one of them. As angry as he was about missing money, this wasn’t entirely his gig. Not yet. He was content to watch from overhead, arms leaned against the warehouse railing as shadows clung to him.

It was a familiar kinda tragedy that had befallen the Nichols family. Everyone had their moves to make in the great game. Dale had made his and now his knees were blown out. These things happened. Felix liked to guarantee that they did. But Erin, well, she had done all this on her own. Put the pieces together. He smiled from on high as he listened to Dale’s sputtering. What Marley did, she did well. Very well.

He lit a cigarette and took in a long, feel good drag. What a night. Be seeing you, Dale.

A small flame burned in the dark as he headed down the metal stairs. Wandered out from where the shadows draped over him.. Cigarette in hand, he came to stand by Erin as the breaths from the broken came and went.

“A real creative way to make one’s bones. I dig it,” he said, eyes on Erin from between the slight gap of his glasses. At Marley’s question, he smiled thinly. “Y’know, bones ain’t too bad a foundation to start with.”

For all the death Erin in her life, this part—where the lights went out behind a person’s eyes, and suddenly they weren’t a person anymore. This part, that exact moment, was uncharted territory. A morbid fascination kept her eyes locked on Dale, even as Marley strutted from the shadows. There it was again. Fear poured from him in unbridled waves.

Erin pulled one of the seats up, settled in, and watched. Marley was more terrifying than she had anticipated but she appreciated the dedication. She only flinched a little when his screams turned shrill, when he choked through sobs to beg for mercy or for his hell to end.

Had her mother plead for the same thing?

Her fists clenched tightly when Marley went for the killing blow. This part too was fascinating. Watching her work, taking her time in ending it using only her hand as a weapon. Her explanation hadn’t done the actual task justice. Whatever she was doing, she took her time. Made him struggle.

And then she saw it—the lights went out. It was over.

She heard Felix beside her, heard Marley’s question. Her throat was raw and dry and her focus remained on the corpse. There was no relief. No muscle in her unwound and only some of that anger was dissipated with Dale’s last breathe.

This wasn’t over. She didn’t know how or what that meant when it popped into her head, except that it grew louder. Clawing for attention above all other thoughts. Second only to it was Roy Chamber’s smile, slipping in like a weed. But they were waiting on her. She had to say or do something now. The plan. There was a plan. A snap as loud as splintering wood echoed in her head and she pulled herself together. Nodded at Marley, even if that small thanks felt wholly underwhelming in that moment. It was all she could manage. And Felix had his proof. Took care of the problem, just like she’d promised. Roy has his pound of flesh. Erin had gotten more than she’d bargained for from it all. Answers she didn’t know she had questions for. Fuel to a fire.

But it was done. It was all done.

“Not bad at all,” Erin finally spoke, clearing her throat. Her jaw ached and her lip cracked open again. Something to remember him by, she supposed. She stepped towards Dale, gesturing towards the very limb, very heavy shell of a man. A long sigh fell from her as she glanced between the two. “Give me a hand?”

Her night, at least, was far from over.

[collecting-stories]

Halloween - Georgia Spin-off

A/N: This takes place a few years in the future. Savannah is thirteen. I just wanted to do something nice for you guys and I know some of you had mentioned some ideas of what you wanted to see for them in the future. 

\\\

“Dad hurry up!” Savannah shouted down the hallway of the small apartment. Two bedrooms above the Pharmacy felt like plenty of space when you’d first moved in but Savannah was thirteen now and it was beginning to feel cramped. When there was no reply from the bedroom she huffed and turned back to the couch, smiling, “are you excited? Can you say trick or treat?”

The almost 18 month old sitting on the couch, dressed as a deer (as per Savannah’s request) smiled before attempting to repeat her. After struggling on the T for a minute he produced a shaky “tricker,” and dissolved into laughter.  

“Yer gonna scare ‘im with that get-up.” Daryl admonished, finally coming into the room. He was pulling his vest and jacket on as you emerged from the bedroom behind him.  

Savannah sneered at her dad and faked a laugh, “your not funny.” She’d been moody all week and when she wasn’t she was neurotically trying to coordinate Halloween costumes.  

“Hear that,” Daryl asked, scooping the baby up into his arms, “I ain’t funny Wyatt.”

“Dad!” Savannah whined, looking passed him to you, “mom, make him stop.”

“No luck Anna. Come on, grab your backpack and we’ll go out to the truck.” You suggested, waving to the empty backpack she had designated for her trick-or-treat bag. She was a zombie and she’d managed to convince Daryl to do the zombie makeup on her after you had deemed the task ‘too complicated’ for your basic knowledge of anything more complicated than a lipstick application. You were into your early thirties and you still hadn’t mastered a smokey eye, there was no way you were capable of making your kid look like she’d risen from the dead.

Daryl had been helpful but also not. He did the makeup that she wanted, even spent hours sitting with her watching youtube makeup tutorials to try and perfect the craft. He’d gotten the gore pretty spot on too, she definitely looked like she was a rotting corpse. When she’d requested that Wyatt be dressed as a deer that she post-dead took a bite out of Daryl had complied with that too. But his first reaction had nearly derailed the entire operation because they had a enjoyed nothing more than teasing each other and with her current moodiness she was unappreciative when he told her that “ya look enough like a zombie in the mornin’ don’t need special makeup.”  

“Carl’s being Indiana Jones and Sophia said she’s being cheerleader.” Savannah commented, leaning forward so she could talk to you better as Daryl drove over to Rick’s house. The neighborhood was better for trick or treating than the main street and the three kids had been going together since you moved back to King County. “Plus Judith is coming this year because Lori’s working and so’s Shane. And Patrick’s mom is finally letting him out to trick or treat but she said as long as he doesn’t bring home too much candy so he said we could have half of everything he gets...”

The current events update from Savannah continued the entire way to Rick’s house and only stopped so she could jump out of the truck and see Merle, who was standing on the front lawn with Carol. She’d giddily talked about the possibility of her and Sophia becoming cousins for the last two years though nothing had happened yet.  

“Think we could pull back out while she ain’t lookin’?” Daryl asked, his hand squeezing your knee.  

“You forget there’s two of them now...what would we do with Wyatt?” You replied, kissing his cheek and looking at your son through the rearview. He was the spitting image of Daryl’s baby pictures and shockingly well behaved almost always.  

“Damn, guess we’re staying,” He put the truck in park and got out, unbuckling Wyatt from his car seat and carrying the baby over to see Merle and Carol. No one had been more excited, or more terrified, than Daryl when you’d told him that you were expecting. And the fear only mounted when he found out it was a boy.  

After a weekend hunting alone though he’d come home with a renewed optimism about the whole situation. He loved Savannah and he knew he was a good dad, he wasn’t so shy about it anymore. Getting to be there for everything this time would be different and had been different but he lost the fear of it pretty quickly. You’d been through it before and you’d get him through whatever parts he was unsure of. Like always.  

“I think you’re supposed to make baby costumes cute,” Carol teased, kissing Daryl on the cheek and taking Wyatt from him. Being the newest baby of the group, everyone got pretty excited whenever opportunity arose to coddle Wyatt.  

“I only follow directions.”

“He’s supposed to my dinner.” Savannah cut in, leaning back against her dad and smiling up at him, “dad made me a zombie and Wy’s the deer I snacked on.”  

“Certainly did a good job.” Rick commented, coming down the porch steps.  

“Uncle Rick!”  

The group felt like it was multiplying every year. It’d started with you and Michonne taking Carl, Savannah, Sophia, and Andre around the neighborhood but over the few short years since it started you had added on to the group. This year you had Carl, Savannah, Andre, Judith, Sophia, Hershel, Wyatt, and Carl’s friend Patrick. Enough for a soccer team maybe if they were all the same age. Rick and Daryl still stayed behind, using the claim that someone had to hand out candy though you were sure the only person actually doing that would be Carol. The guys, Glen included this year, would be doing the same thing they always were, sitting around drinking on the porch.  

“Why am I always designated trick or treater?” You asked, securing Wyatt in the stroller with RJ.  

“Ya want me ta take ‘em?” Daryl offered. He was holding the handle on the stroller, keeping it steady, though his eyes were on you. Admiring the view of his fiancée, even if you were just squatting on the ground to buckle Wyatt in.  

“No,” you stood and came around to kiss him quickly, “I just like hearing you offer to.”  

Daryl frowned and you smiled when his nose twitched a little, confused was your favorite version of him.  

“I don’t wanna let you in on the secret but I probably should,” you teased, “most guys don’t offer to take care of their kids quite so quickly when they could be relaxing with a beer.”

He shrugged in return, “ain’t tryin’ ta be my old man.”

“God I love you. Let’s both ditch the kids and go back home.” You teased, kissing him.  

“You two are gonna have another baby before Wyatt’s three.” Michonne called, walking up to the two of you. She had Judith in her arms.  

The hurdle of Lori calling Rick that afternoon to ask if Judith could accompany her brother trick or treating had not been as daunting as Lori thought it would. All bad blood aside, Judith was Carl’s sister and Rick wanted him to love her as much as he loved Andre and any future child he and Michonne might have. So he had been welcoming to the toddler spending the evening with them and Michonne had been doting, Judith was sweet and Michonne was enjoying having a girl in the house.  

“God she looks like Shane.” You laughed, taking Judith, “Hi Judy, are you excited to trick or treat?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.  

“I like your costume.”  

“I’m a princess.”  

“I’ll say,” You twisted with her in your arms so she was facing Daryl, “look, doesn’t he have a scary costume.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, nudging your shoulder.  

Judith laughed and buried her face in your neck, shy all of a sudden. “See, she agrees.”

“Mom! We’re ready!” Savannah shouted, running down the steps with Carl, Patrick, and Sophia.  

Merle left for work and Carol headed back to the motel for the evening while you, Michonne, and Maggie walked the kids around the neighborhood. Savannah took the role of big sister very seriously, as she had since the moment you announced that you were expecting again. She took turns pushing the stroller and, on a few occasions, brought Wyatt up with her to the door so people could see their coordinating costumes.  

“Any Thanksgiving plans?” Maggie asked as you walked further through the neighborhood.  

“Deanna invited us up to D.C. for the holiday and we’ve been thinking about going. It’s been since August that Savannah saw Gracie and I know they miss each other. Plus her and Sophia have been talking about going around D.C. together.” You replied.  

“That’d be nice, I’m sure Deanna is excited to see Wyatt and Savannah.”  

“Oh god yes, she loves them. And Aiden’s girlfriend is due in a couple weeks so she’s even more excited, she keeps talking about having all three grandkids in the house together.” You replied, “I won’t be surprised if she takes them all to sears for a picture.”  

After trick or treating and pizza at Rick’s house you headed home, happy that the weekend was tomorrow and you didn’t have to get up early for work. Savannah was still wired from the excitement of the night though Wyatt had passed out in the truck on the way home. You volunteered to put him to sleep, leaving Daryl and Savannah at the kitchen table sorting through candy.  

“Do you want the snickers? I don’t like them.” She noted, dum-dum bobbing in her mouth as she spoke.

“Nah, ya can bring it tomorrow though, see if Axel wants it.” He mentioned. Savannah was coming with him to the garage in the morning while you took Wyatt to the doctor’s. All his protesting that you never spend time at the garage when you were younger was for null, it was nearly every other day you were dropping in or Savannah was coming over after school. Axel, Tiny, and Dale loved the girl too and Axel told her some ridiculous stories.  

“Okay.” She scooted off the kitchen table and wrapped her arms around Daryl, hugging him tightly, “thanks for doing my makeup, everybody said it was so cool.”  

“No problem.” He shrugged, hugging her back. “Glad it turned out.”

“It was awesome.” Savannah pulled away, sitting down in a chair as you came back into the room and swiped a jolly rancher off the table.  

You sat down in Daryl’s lap, smiling as his hand went around your waist. “Did you tell dad about the lady with the coffin?”

“Oh my god! You’ll never believe it...”  

-

Hope you guys enjoyed this. 

taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee  @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl @gigilame  @enrapturedbythemoon @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @darkprincess1128-blog @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @angelophany @of-storms-and-sadness @chocolatealmondmillk @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @born-in-19-96  @mainokutan @uh-i-think-its-frank @sabertooth-potato @nikki082489 @qrangr @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @meziah-48 @dietspriteaddict @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire 

[bountyofbeads]

We are African Americans, we are patriots, and we refuse to sit idly by

https://wapo.st/2ZfMStU

We Are African Americans, We Are Patriots, And We Refuse To Sit Idly By

By Clarence J. Fluker, C. Kinder, Jesse Moore and Khalilah M. Harris | Published July 26 at 6:09 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted July 28, 2019

This op-ed is co-signed by 149 African Americans who served in the Obama administration.

This post has been updated.

We’ve heard this before. Go back where you came from. Go back to Africa. And now, “send her back.” Black and brown people in America don’t hear these chants in a vacuum; for many of us, we’ve felt their full force being shouted in our faces, whispered behind our backs, scrawled across lockers, or hurled at us online. They are part of a pattern in our country designed to denigrate us as well as keep us separate and afraid.

As 149 African Americans who served in the last administration, we witnessed firsthand the relentless attacks on the legitimacy of President Barack Obama and his family from our front-row seats to America’s first black presidency. Witnessing racism surge in our country, both during and after Obama’s service and ours, has been a shattering reality, to say the least. But it has also provided jet-fuel for our activism, especially in moments such as these.

We stand with congresswomen Ilhan Omar, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ayanna Pressley and Rashida Tlaib, as well as all those currently under attack by President Trump, along with his supporters and his enablers, who feel deputized to decide who belongs here — and who does not. There is truly nothing more un-American than calling on fellow citizens to leave our country — by citing their immigrant roots, or ancestry, or their unwillingness to sit in quiet obedience while democracy is being undermined.

We are proud descendants of immigrants, refugees and the enslaved Africans who built this country while enduring the horrors of its original sin. We stand on the soil they tilled, and march in the streets they helped to pave. We are red-blooded Americans, we are patriots, and we have plenty to say about the direction this country is headed. We decry voter suppression. We demand equitable access to health care, housing, quality schools and employment. We welcome new Americans with dignity and open arms. And we will never stop fighting for the overhaul of a criminal-justice system with racist foundations.

We come from Minnesota and Michigan. The Bronx and Baton Rouge. Florida and Philadelphia. Cleveland and the Carolinas. Atlanta and Nevada. Oak-town and the Chi. We understand our role in this democracy, and respect the promise of a nation built by, for and of immigrants. We are part of that tradition, and have the strength to both respect our ancestors from faraway lands and the country we all call home.

Our love of country lives in these demands, and our commitment to use our voices and our energy to build a more perfect union. We refuse to sit idly by as racism, sexism, homophobia and xenophobia are wielded by the president and any elected official complicit in the poisoning of our democracy. We call on local, state and congressional officials, as well as presidential candidates to articulate their policies and strategies for moving us forward as a strong democracy, through a racial-equity lens that prioritizes people over profit. We will continue to support candidates for local, state and federal office who add more diverse representation to the dialogue and those who understand the importance of such diversity when policymaking here in our country and around the world. We ask all Americans to be a good neighbor by demonstrating anti-racist, environmentally friendly, and inclusive behavior toward everyone in your everyday interactions.

The statesman Frederick Douglass warned, “The life of a nation is secure only while the nation is honest, truthful and virtuous.” This nation has neither grappled with nor healed from the horrors of its origins. It is time to advance that healing process now through our justice, economic, health and political systems.

Expect to hear more from us. We plan to leave this country better than we found it. This is our home.

Saba Abebe, former special assistant, Office of Economic Impact and Diversity, Energy Department

Tsehaynesh Abebe, former adviser, U.S. Agency for International Development

David Adeleye, former policy specialist, White House

Bunmi Akinnusotu, former special assistant, Office of Land and Emergency Management, Environmental Protection Agency

Trista Allen, former senior adviser to the regional administrator, General Services Administration

Maria Anderson, former operations assistant, White House

Karen Andre, former White House liaison, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Caya Lewis Atkins, former counselor for science and public health, Department of Health and Human Services

Roy L. Austin Jr., former deputy assistant to the president, White House Domestic Policy Council

Kevin Bailey, former special assistant, White House; senior policy adviser, Treasury Department

Jumoke Balogun, former adviser to the secretary, Labor Department

Diana Banks, former deputy assistant secretary, Defense Department

Desiree N. Barnes, former adviser to the press secretary, White House

Kevin F. Beckford, former special adviser, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Alaina Beverly, former associate director, Office of Urban Affairs, White House

Saba Bireda, former senior counsel, Office for Civil Rights, Education Department

Vincent H. Bish Jr., former special assistant to the assistant secretary of strategic program management, Department of Health and Human Services

Michael Blake, former director for African American, minority and women business enterprises and county and statewide elected officials, White House

Tenicka Boyd, former special assistant, Office of Faith Based and Neighborhood Partnerships, Education Department

Tanya Bradsher, former assistant secretary for public affairs, Department of Homeland Security

Stacey Brayboy, former chief of staff, Office of the Chief Financial Officer, Agriculture Department

Allyn Brooks-LaSure, former deputy associate administrator for external affairs, Environmental Protection Agency

Chiquita Brooks-LaSure, former director of coverage policy, Office of Health Reform, Department of Health and Human Services

Quincy K. Brown, former senior policy adviser, Office of Science and Technology Policy, White House

Taylor Campbell, former director of correspondence systems innovation, White House

Crystal Carson, former chief of staff to the director of communications, White House

Genger Charles, former general deputy assistant secretary for the Office of Housing, Federal Housing Administration, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Glorie Chiza, former associate director, Office of Public Engagement and Intergovernmental Affairs, White House

Sarah Haile Coombs, special assistant, Department of Health and Human Services

Michael Cox, former special assistant to the assistant secretary for intergovernmental affairs, Commerce Department

Adria Crutchfield, former director of external affairs, Federal Hurricane Sandy Rebuilding Task Force, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Joiselle Cunningham, former special adviser, Office of the Secretary, Education Department

Charlotte Flemmings Curtis, former special adviser for White House initiatives, Corporation for National and Community Service

Kareem Dale, former special assistant to the president for disability policy, White House

Ashlee Davis, former White House liaison, Agriculture Department

Marco A. Davis, former deputy director, White House Initiative on Educational Excellence for Hispanics

Russella L. Davis-Rogers, former chief of staff, Office of Strategic Partnerships, Department of Education

Tequia Hicks Delgado, former senior adviser for congressional engagement and legislative relations, Office of Legislative Affairs, White House

Kalisha Dessources Figures, former policy adviser, White House Council on Women and Girls

Leek Deng, former special assistant, Bureau for Global Health, U.S. Agency for International Development

Tene Dolphin, former chief of staff, Economic Development Administration, Commerce Department

Monique Dorsainvil, former deputy chief of staff, Office of Public Engagement and Intergovernmental Affairs, White House

Joshua DuBois, former executive director, Office of Faith-based and Neighborhood Partnerships; former special assistant to the president, White House

Dru Ealons, former director, Office of Public Engagement, Environmental Protection Agency

Rosemary Enobakhare, former deputy associate administrator for public engagement and environmental education, Environmental Protection Agency

Karen Evans, former assistant director and policy adviser, Office of Cabinet Affairs, White House

Clarence J. Fluker, former deputy associate director for national parks and youth engagement, White House Council on Environmental Quality

Heather Foster, former public engagement adviser and director of African American affairs, White House

Kalina Francis, former special adviser, Office of Public Affairs, Treasury Department

Matthew “Van” Buren Freeman, former senior adviser, Minority Business Development Agency, Commerce Department

Cameron French, former deputy assistant secretary for public affairs, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Jocelyn Frye, former deputy assistant to the president and director of policy and special projects for the first lady, White House

Bernard Fulton, former deputy assistant secretary for congressional relations, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Stephanie Gaither, former confidential assistant to the deputy director, Office of Management and Budget, White House

Demetria A. Gallagher, former senior adviser for policy and inclusive innovation, Commerce Department

Lateisha Garrett, former White House liaison, National Endowment for the Humanities

W. Cyrus Garrett, former special adviser to the director of counternarcotics enforcement, Department of Homeland Security

Bishop M. Garrison, former science and technology directorate adviser, Department of Homeland Security

Lisa Gelobter, former chief digital service officer, Education Department

A’shanti F. Gholar, former special assistant to the secretary, Labor Department

Jay R. Gilliam, former special assistant, U.S. Agency for International Development

Artealia Gilliard, former deputy assistant secretary for transportation policy, Transportation Department

Brenda Girton-Mitchell, former director, Center for Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships, Education Department

Jason Green, former associate counsel and special assistant to the president, White House

Corey Arnez Griffin, former associate director, Peace Corps

Kyla F. Griffith, former special adviser to the secretary, Commerce Department

Simone L. Hardeman-Jones, former deputy assistant secretary, Office of Legislative and Congressional Affairs, Education Department

Thamar Harrigan, former senior intergovernmental relations adviser, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Dalen Harris, former director, Office of Intergovernmental and Public Liaison, Office of National Drug Control Policy, White House

Khalilah M. Harris, former deputy director, White House Initiative on Educational Excellence for African Americans; former senior adviser, Office of Personnel Management

Adam Hodge, former deputy assistant secretary for public affairs, Treasury Department

Valerie Jarrett, former senior adviser, White House

Will Yemi Jawando, former associate director, Office of Public Engagement, White House

Karine Jean-Pierre, former northeast political director, Office of Political Affairs, White House

A. Jenkins, former director, Center for Faith Based and Neighborhood Partnerships, Commerce Department

Adora Jenkins, former press secretary, Justice Department; former deputy associate administrator for external affairs, Environmental Protection Agency

W. Nate Jenkins, former chief of staff and senior adviser to the budget director, Office of Management and Budget, White House

David J. Johns, former executive director, White House Initiative on Educational Excellence for African Americans

Brent Johnson, former special adviser to the secretary, Commerce Department

Broderick Johnson, former White House assistant to the president and Cabinet secretary for My Brother’s Keeper Task Force

Carmen Daniels Jones, former director, Office of Small and Disadvantaged Business Utilization, Agriculture Department

Gregory K. Joseph II, former special assistant, Office of the Executive Secretariat, Energy Department

Jamia Jowers, former special assistant, National Security Council

Charmion N. Kinder, former associate, Press Office of the First Lady, White House; former assistant press secretary, Department of Housing and Urban Development

Elise Nelson Leary, former international affairs adviser, National Aeronautics and Space Administration

Kimberlyn Leary, former adviser, White House Council on Women and Girls

Daniella Gibbs Léger, former special assistant to the president and director of message events, White House

Georgette Lewis, former policy adviser, Department of Health and Human Services

Kevin Lewis, former director of African American media, White House; former principal deputy director of public affairs, Justice Department

Catherine E. Lhamon, former assistant secretary for civil rights, Education Department

Tiffani Long, former special adviser, Economic Development Administration

Latifa Lyles, former director, Women’s Bureau, Labor Department

Brenda Mallory, former general counsel, White House Council on Environmental Quality

Dominique Mann, former media affairs manager, White House

Shelly Marc, former policy adviser, Office of Public Engagement and Intergovernmental Affairs, White House

Tyra A. Mariani, former chief of staff to the deputy secretary, Education Department

Lawrence Mason III, former domestic policy analyst, Office of Presidential Correspondence, White House

Dexter L. McCoy, former special assistant, Office of the Secretary, Education Department

Matthew McGuire, former U.S. executive director, The World Bank Group

Tyrik McKeiver, former senior adviser, State Department

Tjada D’Oyen McKenna, former assistant to the administrator, U.S. Agency for International Development

Solianna Meaza, former special assistant to associate administrator, U.S. Agency for International Development

Mahlet Mesfin, former assistant director for international science and technology, Office of Science and Technology Policy, White House

Ricardo Michel, former director, Center for Transformational Partnerships, U.S. Agency for International Development Global Development Lab

Paul Monteiro, former associate director, Office of Public Engagement, White House

Jesse Moore, former associate director, Office of Public Engagement, White House

Shannon Myricks, former specialist, Office of Management and Administration Information Services, White House

Melanie Newman, former director of public affairs, Justice Department

Fatima Noor, former policy assistant, Domestic Policy Council

Bianca Oden, former deputy chief of staff, Agriculture Department

Funmi Olorunnipa, former ethics counsel, White House Counsel’s Office

Elizabeth Ogunwo, former White House liaison, Peace Corps

[carabas]

(for the Black Emporium prompt: "Colette is an academic out in the field hunting for clues about who Ameridan was, Ameridan has been rescued after 800 years of fending off a powerful dragon abomination. Imagine if he survived and could give answers to some of the theories she'd been researching." In which Colette meets her history crush.)

After the Inquisitor’s visit, Colette spends the remainder of the day documenting the Tevinter ruins. She barely notices the darkening sky until she finds herself struggling to make out her own notes, until a green light flashes overhead and illuminates the page. And she looks up just as a glowing wisp darts through the air and brushes against her cheek.  

At its touch, a deep, pleasant voice echoes through her mind.

We have a plan. Haron and Orinna will lead the Avvar elsewhere, so Telana and I can deal with the dragon. My spirit companion believes we can seal the dragon away, even if we cannot kill it. It is less clear whether I can do so without—

The voice cuts off as the wisp drifts away, taking up a position circling the statue at the heart of the ruins. And Colette frowns up at it in consternation.

Spirits. Always meddling with the most important sites. Useful for preservation, but then they make it impossible to date anything accurately; mimicking history, but with no way to tell how much of what they say reflects the actual events and how much came from someone’s wild imagination. About as reliable as insights from a dream. And its presence in these ruins means she’s going to have to be doubly careful to verify everything she’s discovered here—not that she wouldn’t have done that anyway.

Still, she scrambles to jot down its exact words before she forgets them.

It’s something, to hear Ameridan’s voice here in this place where he and his companions had walked, still lingering after all these years. Even if it isn’t real.

It’s a long walk back to the base camp, and bird song’s given way to chirping insects and the occasional rustling of some unseen creature in the undergrowth—some nocturnal predator probably, and she’s probably not lucky enough to be rescued by the Inquisitor twice in the same day, and she should really see about bringing along some Inquisition scouts for the return trip tomorrow. But even the prospect of another hungry pack of lurkers can’t dampen her excitement much, and she spends the walk mentally cataloguing the work still to be done. The discoveries she’s made today alone, the contributions to their understanding of Inquisitor Ameridan’s era of early Chantry history—it’s a feast after spending years searching for scraps.

Tonight definitely deserves a treat from her limited stash of hot cocoa, she decides.

There’s a crowd clustered in the lights of the base camp, so many people hanging around the gate that she can’t manage to get through; she just manages to spot the surgeon running towards them, then ducking out of her sight.

When she asks what’s going on, one of the scouts in front of her answers in a hushed whisper. “They found the last Inquisitor.”

She thinks her heart just stopped. “The resting place? It’s here?” We were right. Maker, this book is going to make history.

The scout shakes his head, and he points through the crowd, leaning aside just enough for her to see what everyone’s clustered around, the unconscious man that the surgeon’s kneeling over. “They found the Inquisitor.”

She doesn’t recognize the man on the ground. One of the Dalish scouts, clearly, with the tattoos, but not one she knows—though that antique armor he’s wearing isn’t Inquisition uniform; it looks almost like—

It penetrates. “What?”

Inquisitor Ameridan looks nothing like she’d imagined. And granted, the historical records are quite vague on his appearance—and privately, her mental image had been mostly based on an Orlesian novel about the Inquisitor and his lady mage; it was quite tasteful, really—and granted, lying unconscious on the surgeon’s cot is perhaps not the most accurate of first impressions.

He looks kind, the lines of his face. Smile lines. She hadn’t expected that.

Breaking down the camp and getting ready for the journey to Skyhold, Colette hesitates outside the surgeon’s tent, her arms full of a box of mineral samples. There’s a pair of guards keeping watch, but she and Professor Kenric have been in and out of that tent all day, and the guards pay her no mind anymore.

The surgeon and the spirit healer have stepped outside at the moment, locked in a heated debate about bile and bloodletting. They’ve been doing a lot of that. Inquisitor Ameridan keeps drifting in and out of consciousness, and there isn’t a standard method of treatment for eight hundred years’ worth of magical exhaustion, or for the sudden loss of some kind of spirit companion who’s kept you alive all that time.

But she’s hearing voices inside the tent too. And the real Ameridan’s voice sounds just the same as he had in her head, at the wisp’s touch.

He’s awake.

Peering through the tent flap, she sees that strange boy that the Inquisitor—the other Inquisitor—that Inquisitor Lavellan has been looking after, the boy whose name she can never remember.

“Too bright, blinding, breaking, broken. ‘Get to safety. I will seal us both away. …It's not forever.’”

Cole. That’s his name. Colette doesn’t know how she keeps forgetting that.

She sees Ameridan’s hand grasp Cole’s, then fall back. And feeling she’s intruding, Colette lets the tent flap fall closed, just as she hears Ameridan say, “Thank you.”

A career spent picking away at pieces of a mystery, and now she’s had the whole answer dumped in her lap all at once. She’s still not sure she believes it.

And that’s the trouble. Even with all their documentation of the Inquisitor’s last days in the Frostback Basin, when it comes to proving that the man now recovering in Skyhold is who he says he is, there’s very little in the way of physical evidence and a whole lot depending on Inquisitor Lavellan’s word about what she saw, dragon-god skull or no.

And for anyone already inclined to mistrust the Inquisition, Colette has to admit it’s a bit of a stretch. So convenient for Inquisitor Lavellan, the elven upstart who crowned herself as the new Inquisitor and declared the rebel mages under her protection, to suddenly discover that the last true Inquisitor was really an elf, and a mage, and here in the flesh to give her his blessing; the perfect precedent conjured out of nothing, too convenient to be believed.

And then there’s those who accept the Inquisition’s claims just because they think supporting the Inquisition could work to their own advantage, not because they care about the truth or the accuracy of Colette’s research one way or the other. History dependent on politics. That leaves an even worse taste in her mouth.

Which is why Professor Kenric is packing for Orzammar and the Shaperate, prepared to search for every scrap of corroborating evidence of their claims, when the answer to all their questions is right there in Skyhold’s guest quarters.

“It’s the chance of a lifetime,” the professor says for what has to be the dozenth time, somehow managing to sound both giddy and as if he’s trying to convince himself at once. Colette can sympathize; under any other circumstances, she would be mad with jealousy at a chance to access the Shaperate’s records.

But it’s hard to be jealous, when instead she’s sitting beside Ameridan’s bedside as he patiently answers her questions, trading every answer for a question of his own; as she sketches Haron and Orinna from his description until they’re both satisfied with the result, while she tells him, haltingly, about their last stand, and then about the Dales, Drakon, the Blights, and Seekers and mages and spirits and the alienage where she grew up and Qunari hot cocoa, and the dragons that no one hunts anymore, or hardly anyone aside from Professor Frederic anyway, because they’d seemed extinct until they weren’t, another wonder from the past that everyone had thought was gone forever. Everything. As much of the past eight hundred years as she can piece together for him.

Maker, he’s tall, she thinks the first time she sees him out of bed without needing his staff to lean on; and then when she sees him in the long lines of the Inquisition’s formal uniform, looking like he’d just stepped out of that Orlesian novel.

He looks even taller as he moves through the alleyways of Halamshiral, the line of his back ramrod straight, and they draw curious looks as they move deeper into the slums. And this isn’t where they’re supposed to be; their diplomatic visit to the Winter Palace on their way to the University, the stops along the way, the meeting with Keeper Levinia Ghilain, it’s all been carefully scheduled. But he follows her lead when she veers off the planned path; gives her a curious look, and then sets out as if he knows where he’s going, ground-devouring strides, putting an end to the protest of their escort in formal livery and formal masks, forcing the escort to hurry to keep up with them.

The river might not have changed since his time, or the mountains around the city, but everything else must have. Even just within Colette’s lifetime, the city’s changed beyond recognition. She can still see the scars where the Empress of Fire earned her name; whole neighborhoods gone, cobbled-together shelters that can’t have been standing for more than a year and don’t look likely to hold together for much longer, older buildings left abandoned, roofs fallen in and doors boarded over.

All this to remind the elves not to forget their place. And yet now Colette’s walking through Halamshiral at Ameridan’s side with a sword slung across her back, an elf openly carrying a weapon within the city, and not one guard has tried to stop her.

Ameridan pauses on a bridge over the river, identical to half a dozen others, of no particular significance that Colette can see. His hands gripping the iron railing.

“Andraste’s children were the ones who granted us the Dales in the first place,” he says, sounding more bewildered than anything else. “For Drakon’s chantry to be the ones to do—this—”

He doesn’t finish the thought, just spreads his hands wordlessly.

Drakon’s chantry. As if it was just that, just a group of the faithful started by a friend of his.

Hesitant, she puts her hand over his, where he’s been gripping the railing. And she watches his shoulders sag as a little of the tension goes out of him.

She asks him what it was like, the old Halamshiral, the way he remembers it. And looking up at the Winter Palace silhouetted against the sky in the distance, he begins to tell her, clasping her hand in his own.

Everything always seems so meaningful in the stories about him, the novels and the historical accounts both. Like every event has a purpose behind it. There may be pieces missing in the records, but when she’s reading, it’s always felt like if she could just fill in enough of those blanks, the world would make sense.

But he’s not a character in a book.

“Would it be that bad, if you can’t prove who I am?”

They’re sitting in Skyhold’s garden, with one of the books on the Divine Age that Ameridan had asked her for. The Sword of Drakon: An Examination of the Life and History of the Father of Orlais. Though it’s far from the most historically accurate depiction of Drakon’s life after Ameridan's disappearance. He passes her a mug as he sits down, unasked, and she’s startled to find it full of hot cocoa.

And that question’s such an understatement, she barely knows where to begin.

“There’s so much we’ve forgotten,” she manages. “You’re—everything.” Eloquent.

He’d spent half the morning in the undercroft with Dagna and Harritt and his perfectly preserved Divine Age armor, listening to them argue over innovation and older methods, historical techniques that have gotten lost over time, across the Exalted Marches, the Blights.

And he comes from a time period when there was just the Blight, one, a singular event, and over and done with; when people hadn’t believed there would ever be another, not even when the darkspawn had already overrun half the Anderfels. She can’t picture what that would be like, the kind of future he must have imagined for the world, without the Blights constantly knocking them down again. As if you’d only have to get through one winter, and then it would be flowers for the rest of your days. It must have seemed like anything was possible.

And he’s not sure it matters if anyone recognizes who he is.

Just the sheer fact of him makes anything seem possible again.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Dwarrowtober 2022 Day 7: Mithril- Fili Durin x OC

Fili Durin x Aurora Goodchild

Description: It’s been Aurora’s dream to see mithril in real life, and Fili decides to make her dream come true.

Word Count: 1.1k

With Erebor having been retaken and peace being made between them, Mirkwood and Dale, all that was left was waiting for the rest of Erebor’s people to arrive. During that time everyone from the Company ended up just sort of doing their own thing. Bellarose helped Thorin begin making arrangements for the eventual arrival of the rest of the kingdom, Kili and Rosemary opted to explore the beautiful halls of the palace, Bombur now spent most of his time in the kitchen, Bofur showed Poppy everything he remembered from his old neighborhood, Oin went to the medical wing to see what he could salvage, etc.

Fili, meanwhile, decided to just settle into his new room and relax. Thorin was allowing everyone to stay in the palace until they could begin making homes for themselves, but since Fili was a Prince that would be living there he got to pick his permanent room. After picking it out he moved everything he’d brought with him to it and began unpacking.

Aurora, having nothing else to do, decided to help him. While he worked on finding a place for his trinkets and such she hung up his now clean clothes (which they spent all of the previous day washing as he had almost no clean clothes yet). It was as she was absentmindedly digging through the large basket that her hand suddenly grazed something cold and slightly solid. She immediately retracted her hand in surprise and her brows furrowed in confusion. Slowly, she reached back in and felt around until she came into contact with the same thing. Upon pulling it out she was met with what seemed to be a long sleeved white shirt. It almost felt like chain mail despite its rather normal appearance. She didn’t remember seeing it yesterday during the washing, which only made her more confused.

“Fee darling, what’s this?” She asked curiously, holding it up to him. Fili, who’d been arranging a few things at his new desk, looked over to her.

“Oh, that’s just the mithril shirt I wore under my armor during the battle. Make sure you’re careful when hanging it up because it’s delicate,” he answered nonchalantly. Aurora’s eyes lit up at the name and she found herself marveling at the shirt.

“So this is the famed mithril,” she muttered, starstruck, which caught her fiancé’s attention. “I’ve only ever heard or read about mithril, but I’ve never seen it in real life. It’s beautiful.” Her awes gaze was torn away from the shirt when she heard Fili chuckle from beside her.

“Yes, it is rather amazing, isn’t it?” He asked rhetorically. “You should see it in its natural form.” The girl sighed dreamily at that.

“Oh that would be a dream. But I doubt I’ll be able to see it anytime soon. Your uncle said the mines were forbidden for the time being until the passages and equipment could be tested,” she explained. “I heard him talking to Bofur about it.” Fili pursed his lips thoughtfully then hummed.

“Well then, perhaps when everyone is settled I can show you,” he suggested, earning a nod from the girl.

“I’d like that a lot.”

A few days later Aurora just couldn’t find Fili anywhere. She looked everywhere she thought he would be and even asked Kili where he might be, but to no avail. After searching high and low she was just about to give up when she bumped into Bifur.

“Oh, good morning Bifur,” she greeted politely (albeit slightly frazzled).

“Morning Aurora,” the Dwarf greeted, speech slightly broken as he was still getting used to speaking in Westron. “Say, do you know why your beau was heading towards the mines earlier?” The girl became confused at that.

“Wait, what? Fili’s in the mines?”

“Yeah? I thought you would’ve known why,” the Dwarf shrugged. “Oh well. I guess you can ask him yourself.”

“Yes, I think I will,” Aurora muttered somewhat distractedly. After wishing Bifur a quick farewell she picked up the skirt of her dress and jogged towards the mines. After hearing Thorin talk about how potentially dangerous the mines were she was worried about her fiancé’s safety.

It took several tries to find the entrance of the mines as she had no idea what it would even look like, but she eventually found it. A relieved sigh left her lips as she slipped inside. Almost immediately after walking in she bumped into something. Well, more accurately, someone.

“Oh, Aurora,” Fili greeted, both surprised and confused. “What’re you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Fee,” she laughed softly. “I was trying to find you and Bifur mentioned that he’d seen you heading to the mines. He wanted to know why.” A light blush dusted over the Prince’s cheeks and he smiled sheepishly.

“Ah I hadn’t realized anyone saw me,” he muttered shyly.

“Well Bifur did, and now we’re both curious as to why.” Aurora crossed her arms, staring at him expectantly. She watched as the boy paused momentarily before digging around in his pants pocket. After a moment he seemingly pulled something out and held it out to her.

Aurora recognized it immediately. She’d seen drawings of mithril’s natural form so many times that it was identifiable. Her eyes widened in shock as a quiet gasp left her lips. They then met his, asking him a silent question. A small smile graced the Prince’s face and he nodded. She returned his smile then gingerly reached out, taking the piece of metal. As she turned it over in her hand she couldn’t help but marvel at it. It was even more beautiful in real life.

“I wanted to surprise you with it later,” Fili explained softly. “Uncle allowed me to go in and check the first cave I found. I guess I got lucky this time because someone was halfway done picking it out of a wall so it wasn’t difficult to finish the job.”

“You did all that just for me?” She asked softly, extremely touched by his thoughtfulness.

“Of course I did. I’d do anything to see you happy,” he answered without hesitation. Her heart warmed at his response and she set the metal down to wrap her arms around his neck.

“You know I love you, right?” She whispered.

“Of course,” Fili answered as his arms went around her waist. “I love you too.”

“Good,” she paused to peck his lips. “Now let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.” Fili laughed, but nodded and they walked out hand in hand, the beautiful piece of mithril safely in Aurora’s pocket.

[graysongraysoff]

!!!! Do the first 3 for Raleigh and Raye I wanna know more about them

this got so long, wow; tfw raleigh has So Many Families

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

raye loves his father, but he wishes sometimes that he didn’t. raye hates his father’s flippant, half-assed lectures, as if the man doesn’t even have the energy to punish him when he’s done something wrong, but he loves the conversations they sometimes have late at night after they’ve both been drinking, and he feels like he’s meeting the man behind the money for the first time. he got most of his more self-destructive habits from his father: the drinking and the drugs.

raleigh is an interesting case because raleigh actually has several fathers; his birth parents were killed on the night he was born, and so he was raised piecemeal by four families in the poor neighborhood where he grew up. raleigh is also an interesting case because @takethewatch is actually the one who made up these various families, so i only know a little bit about them thus far. so kat you can weigh in if i mess something up, haha.

the only father with a name that i have so far is dale crestwood, and the crestwoods have been defined as the most chill of raleigh’s parents (e.g. the parents he can bring three ex-cons home to without getting in too much trouble). i think part of the reason dale is maybe a bit easier on raleigh than he should be is that he is a man with many daughters, and raleigh is his only son, so he really tries to foster that father-son connection with him. raleigh loves that about him, but sometimes hates being singled out. 

two of his fathers are an older couple, and i think raleigh loves how useful he feels when he stays with them, helping them out with their various chores. he hates how quiet it can be, though; what these two fathers find relaxing often makes raleigh antsy.

he has one more father who hates his wife but loves his kids. i think the main thing he hates about living with this father is feeling that tension; even though this couple has worked out a system where one works day shifts and one works night shifts so they never have to see each other, it’s the kind of tension that never really leaves a place. but raleigh loves to be in this home at the “changing of the guard,” because he likes to be there to ease that tension for everyone involved.

the influence that all of these families have had on raleigh (and this goes for the next question, too), is just the wideness of his purview. raleigh knows a lot about families in particular and about people in general, and about the ways in which they interact and affect one another. it’s made him very insightful, understanding and compassionate.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

raye feels similarly about his mother to the way he feels about his father; he loves her and has had moments of genuine connection with her, but he almost never feels like he has all of her attention. he hates that she only asks him how his day was when she’s in the middle of doing something else, but he loves it when she fusses with his clothes or his hair and calls him handsome. raye’s care for his appearance comes from his mother, both in a physical sense and an emotional sense; she taught him, by example, how to preen and how to look happy even when he isn’t.

yana crestwood is a saint, and much too understanding of raleigh and his whirlwind disposition. the only thing he hates about her is disappointing her.

raleigh has a single mother, too, who is very religious. raleigh genuinely does love how devoted she is, and he loves listening to the scripture stories she tells; what he doesn’t love so much is how strict she is and how uncompromising in her punishments.

his third mother is the one whose husband she can’t stand; the one for whom he loves to smooth transitions.

3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? 

raleigh has more brothers and sisters than he knows what to do with, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

i’m sure he has siblings closer to his own age with whom he has petty rivalries and dare-offs that often go south, and older siblings who can be oppressive and younger ones who can be annoying, but at the end of the day he’d do anything for any one of them.

raye is an only child, though he has cousins with whom he gets up to his shenanigans. 

i had to stop typing because i just realized i made a fucking montague.

you know what, that’s all you need to know about raye, actually.

he’s basically a montague from literary masterpiece romeo & juliet. next question.

[rejectedbyeharmony]

My First Husband

The title is a little tongue-in-cheek as I have not been married again, but I think it’s funny to refer to him as my first husband. After I ruined my life by dropping out of college and had no plans for my future, my dad made me go to work for him. My dad worked in remodeling. He tried his hand at his own company, but ended up going to work for a friend; and this friend was generous enough to give his free-spirited wayward daughter a chance. So, Dad had me working manual labor during the week, but the bonus was that I had a full weekend. Most of my friends worked retail or in the service industry so they had to work on nights and weekends.

I took to the internet to build a social circle. If you grew up in the time that I did, you probably spent your fair share of hours in AOL chat rooms. I was in a particular chat room that was geared toward the tattooed and pierced community. It was predominantly young adults who had a couple trashy tattoos and a bunch of piercings in their face and perhaps in their genitals… It attracted people who worked in the community or people who were attracted to people who were tattooed and pierced. But it was a pretty mixed bag of members all over the country.

I befriended a girl named Misty who lived in New Jersey, and we had been chatting online since I was in high school. We met finally when she and her family were visiting DC and I felt like I had found my long-lost sister. This girl and I totally imprinted on each other, and were inseparable aside from the distance.

One of my free weekends, I decided to go visit her in Central Jersey. I had never gone that far north by myself. But I figured after my trek to Charleston, a four hour trip to New Jersey would be cake. So I drove up there and got in late at night. Misty was working at the local Stop & Shop and she told me to meet her when she got off work. I pulled up in front of the grocery store and sat waiting for her as she came walking out with a couple of guys.

I got out to smoke a cigarette with them and she introduced me to Dale and Joe. They worked in the deli and they were “hilarious”, according to Misty. So far Joe had only poked fun at Dale’s last name, which was Butts. I’ll admit that I have the sense of humor of a teenage boy, so I definitely did laugh at that. But the jury was still out on “hilarious”.

They were having a party that night and we were invited. I was down! And so we said our goodbyes and headed back to Misty’s to get ready. She said, “I’m really excited for you to meet Joe because I think he’s awesome and I think that you’ll like him.” She also mentioned that she kind of had a crush on him. I was confused, and asked “so... do you want my approval or do you want me to hook up with him?” And she laughed and said “whatever’s clever girl!” But that’s how Misty was... you never really knew what she was talking about, but that was all part of her appeal.

So, we go to this party and we’re having an awesome time and I’m definitely digging Joe. Misty wasn’t wrong, he was hilarious. And, I don’t know, there was just something about him that was different and really cool.

I stayed up there for the rest of the weekend and spent most of it with Joe. Misty seemed to be supportive of this union and wasn’t jealous or weird, so when I came home Sunday night, we just started this slow-moving long distance relationship.

We decided a few weeks later that we should meet up again, this time we chose Philly. I’ve never been to South Philly and Joe‘s roommate was from there and they wanted to show me how to order a decent cheesesteak in on South Street. So I spent another weekend with these guys and I was just loving life. These weekend trips happened at least every other weekend for about two months, until finally I told my parents that I wanted them to meet him.

Fast forward to St. Patrick’s Day. I spent the weekend with Joe, and we were Irish af and drank a lot of green beer. The next morning we woke up and Joe’s mouth and teeth and hands were all stained by green food coloring. OMG We tried really hard to scrub it off before meeting with my parents that afternoon, who had driven up to go gambling in Atlantic City and we’re going to meet us halfway in Delaware. Joe and I tried as hard as we could to get that green off, but it was permanently stained on his mouth and hands. [LOL]

We took showers, got dressed, and got in the car, and every time I looked at him I could not stop laughing at all the green. Deep down, I knew that my parents would probably appreciate it, being proud Irish-American people. While I enjoyed watching him squirm, I assured him everything would be fine.

We met my parents for lunch and had a great time, and they thought his Irish pride was hysterical. I think they could see how happy we made each other. My parents asked Joe if he would be willing to move, my dad said that he had already spoken to his boss and he could get Joe a job with us at our company. Joe emphatically said yes! We ended lunch, said our goodbyes (but see you soon’s!) and went back to Jersey to tell Joe‘s roommate that he was going to be moving out. Dale had already prepared himself for that and told Joe “well you’re good, so whenever you’re ready...”

He was ready. So we packed him up and left that night. Moving this man to my hometown was so exciting and gratifying. After having been through the trauma of uprooting myself for someone who didn’t share my feelings, this relationship was healing that wound.

We lived with my parents at first, until we saved enough money. We got our own place, my first apartment, just south of Woodbridge, in Triangle. It wasn’t the best neighborhood and it definitely wasn’t the best apartment, but it was ours and we were proud of our place. We were poor. And I mean POOR. We bought loose cigarettes from the Getty gas station on Graham Park road because we couldn’t afford entire packs. We got pay day loans to pay the bills. We always had weed and beer, though because... priorities.

I really thought that this was the person I was going to spend the rest my life with. We were so well-suited for each other, and we talked about marriage all the time. Finally one day, Joe sat me down and said that he wanted to join the military. He thought long and hard about his future, and the only thing that he could see in it was me. He couldn’t see himself going to college, and he definitely couldn’t see himself learning a trade on his own. He thought the military would really get him where he needed in life.

Growing up with a father who’s a Vietnam vet, I have my own feelings about the military and war. And Joe’s decision came mere months after 911. The idea of Joe going to Iraq or Afghanistan terrified me, and supporting his decision was not the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. But, eventually he convinced me that the military would take care of us, and I would be able to finish school and figure out what I want to do with my life. My experience working with my dad had taught me that I really liked interior design. I loved working in people’s homes and making them their dreams a reality. So with eyes on the prize, we moved forward, and he started visiting recruiters from different branches.

He asked me if I would marry him. There was no ring, there was no fairytale proposal. He just asked me point blank: “if I join the military would you marry me, so you can go wherever I go?” That was more meaningful then any YouTube quality proposal I could ever get. (But in case my future boyfriend’s reading this, I expect you to make a big damn deal when you asked me to marry you.) I, of course, said yes, and we immediately went to my parents house to give them the good news. My mom and dad happily agreed that this was a great plan and they supported our marriage.

We started to talk about wedding dates, and Joe insisted that we needed to wait until he had his schedule set for MEPS and Basic training. In the next couple of weeks he was working closely with an Army recruiter. He had his MEPS center date selected, and had a vague idea of when he had to go to boot... and it was fast approaching. We knew that we need to plan a wedding in about five months so we immediately sent out invitations, and started looking for a venue and dress.

Over the next four months my mom and I planned a pretty elegant little wedding. My sister and Joe’s sister Vicky were my bridesmaids, and Joe’s two best friends were his groomsmen . We got married under this little gazebo in Occoquan, if you’re familiar with Mamie Davis Park. We walked two doors down to the Sea, Sea & Company restaurant (you probably know it now as Madigan‘s.) Their upstairs room was affordable, pretty, and would accommodate our entire party. It’s actually a pretty nice space and it laid out really well for the wedding.

While our wedding was small, it was joyful. All of our family was there and a few friends, because we decided to keep it small. Everyone danced, we ate great food and had a ton of alcohol. My sister had her first drink from the bar as an “adult” (she was 18, I had just turned 20 for those keeping up). She ordered a Roman Coke, and I heard her order it a few times before I finally asked her what are you ordering? I laughed so hard explaining to her the drink was called a “rum and Coke”. That was basically the feeling of the entire day thus far, fun and blissful.

But, everything went dark after that.