#focus on her so it 'starts' with gloria)

[hella1975]

for a popular band i dont see nearly enough people freaking the fuck out about the lumineers on here! i have to do everything my damn self! anyway listen to their album III in order WITH the music videos and maybe you'll feel significantly worse about everything ever

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it

Gloria Grahame (It's a wonderful life, Oklahoma, Human desire, The Cobweb)—I'm just going to link to this Film Comment article by Donald Chase, who makes the argument more eloquently than I can, although I think Grahame's Ado Annie is more than just the 'flirtatious goofus' he offhandedly describes her as. Between that role and Violet Bick in 'It's a Wonderful Life" she's played two of cinemas best irrepressibly horny ladies. That would be legacy enough for our hot vintage queen, but she is also GLORIOUS in 'In a Lonely Place' and consistently pulls focus from her co-star Humphrey Bogart, famously one of the most charismatic leading men of his day. I think she had even more, and hotter, chemistry with him than he ever had with Lauren Bacall, which is saying a lot I know. Anyway, your honor I love her and I want her to win it all.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lauren Bacall:

"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."

"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."

"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."

"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"

"A gorgeous lady inside and out. One half of an absolute power couple with Humphrey Bogart, tended to him and other actors suffering from malaria whilst filming the African Queen, generally radiated grace and poise throughout her life. Also her last role was in Family Guy so she needs justice for that"

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

"She was stunning. Tall and beautiful with a distinctive voice and able to carry her own in a male dominated field. She won the heart of millions, including one of Hollywood's most iconic leading men, Humphrey Bogart. Their story was the stuff of legends, and the chemistry between them was apparent in the multiple films they started in together. She personified the film noir dame and yet she also adapted as Hollywood changed. Her career spanned decades, and she was honored multiple times."

Gloria Grahame:

Absolute Hollywood vamp, who had a fine comedic bone. Died far too young and was depicted by Annette Bening in the stellar Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

I’ve heard she’s horrendously miscast in Oklahoma (I have not seen it), so if you’re coming in with that framework PLEASE set that aside because gods does this woman shine in a NOIR!! She plays the battered woman more than a full on fatale, but she manages to bring interesting nuance to characters who are written as mere sultry divergences! Also: she’s sultry and an EXCELLENT divergence

She could do sexy, sweet and sinister in the same breath. She was crazy talented and had that lisp that melts me every time.

[kryptonitejelly]

from the flyboy!universe, but you can read this as a standalone. jake seresin x reader. the one just before you start ovulating.

nsfw minors DNI. this is just porn no plot.

-

Jake knows. He knows from the moment he walks into the house, his hair tousled from the fitness drills which they had been running outside, bare torso covered in a sheen of sweat, paired with a pair of fitting sports shorts. He manages lock eyes with you for a split second, electricity passing in between you both, before the rest of the crew comes barrelling in behind him.

“Tough session?” You manage to tear your gaze away from Jake and focus on the group behind you.

“Brutal,” Bradley responds as darts towards your refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water, which he uncaps immediately and tilts to his lips, from the refrigerator.

“You should have joined us,” says Nat from where she is slumped in a chair, the beginnings of a sunburn starting to bloom across her nose bridge.

“I aim to exercise like a normal person,” you say observing the rest - Payback, Fanboy, Coyote and Bob - who either have their head on the dining room table, or elbows propped up on its surface holding their heads up, “not like a Naval Aviator.”

“It’s sweltering,” Jake says as he makes his way to where you are perched on the stool beside the open kitchen island. He leans down to graze your lips with his, a hand on the island table top. Jake doesn’t touch you, but he notices you fidget as you press your thighs together under the short, light blue sundress you are wearing. He likes the way its held up by thin straps that criss-cross into a halter shaped pattern at the back of your neck, and which leaves most of your back exposed, something he had noticed as he walked in through the door. He lets his gaze drop for a second towards the front of your chest where the dress cuts low, but not indecently so.

“Shall we go for lunch,” you hear Payback call out, as he moves his head from the table, “I’m starving.”

His proclamation earns a round of interest as the group begins to shift, with nodding heads all around.

“Downtown?” Fanboy supplies.

“Gloria’s,” Coyote says, naming the new cafe that had opened not too long ago, and which the group had taken a liking to because of the mean brunch and pasta dishes they had on menu.

“We leave in 30, Hangman and Rooster will drive,” Natasha makes the decision for the group as she stands, her calculations allowing every enough time to get showered and more presentable than they were now. The group begins to move, the clatter of chairs, phones, and the crinkle of plastic bottles filling the air.

“Don’t be late,” Payback calls out in the air as a warning as you hear your front door shut, the noise of the group growing fainter as they make their way further from your house and towards their own.

“So,” Jake looks at you, pushing himself up to a stand, “I should probably shower.” Jake words point to one thing but his hands tell another story as he grabs the sides of the stool you are sitting on, bending at the waist so that his eyes are level with yours.

“I guess you should,” you hum in agreement, as you watch Jake’s gaze dip from your eyes, to your lips.

“Mhmm,” you hums back at you. There is a beat of silence between you both before you move, crashing your lips into his. You can feel Jake smirking against the kiss which he meets, his hands now moving from the sides of the stool creeping under your dress from the sides before hooking themselves onto your waist. He lifts you, too easily, and you wind your arms around his neck and legs around him to help him set you atop the kitchen island.

“Could tell from the moment I walked in,” he says, hands travelling towards the waistband of your underwear, his mouth going to your neck. You lift your hips, legs moving as you help Jake in pulling your underwear down. His fingers find you already slick, and you can’t help the moan which you let you, throwing your head back as his fingers slide along your folds, finding your clit.

“I need you,” you breathe out, hands desperately reaching for Jake’s shorts, fingers finding the waistband. He lets out a guttural groan as you find what you are looking for, fingers going around his girth.

“Babe,” he moves his hands from you to make quick work of pushing both his shorts and underwear down in a swift motion.

Your body bemoans the loss of his fingers against you, but you solider on, both hands now pumping up and down his length. You need to feel him in you. Jake moves his hand up your thigh and back to your heated core, hips lips finding yours once again.

“No,” you groan against the kiss, scooting closer to the edge of the kitchen island, “no prep, just need you,” you manage to pant out, almost desperately against Jake’s lips.

“I love seeing you this way,” Jake says, voice deep and thick with lust as he pulls you closer towards the edge of the island, your arms twisting around his neck, thighs spreading themselves further apart, your dress bunched up around your waist, “so needy for me.”

You can feel him lining the tip of himself against you, your eyes flickering down to watch, forehead against his. Your breathing is ragged from anticipation, but so is Jake’s. He pushes into you, and you exhale both at the stretching sensation that hurts just that little bit but also with relief. You lean your body back slightly, your hands moving to anchor on Jake’s shoulders for support. He thrusts, slowly at first, giving you a chance to full adjust to him, watching as you exhale through the first few thrusts, but picks up the pace as he notices your exhales start to morph into desperate whimpers. Jake feels your hips start to buck forward, seeking more friction, and he can’t help the moan that falls from his own lips.

“You feel so fucking good,” his voice is a growl. Jake doesn’t stop, his hips snapping mercilessly against yours. You spread your legs even wider, the base of your feet hooking themselves behind his body coaxing him deeper. Jake’s hand finds itself on your neck, grasping lightly before he drags it down, pulling the front of your dress down. It exposes you, your breasts escaping their confines. The sight of you, mouth slightly agape, bare breasts and nipples spilling out, skirt bunched around your waist and hips bucking into his is breathtaking.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warns - the sight of you doing him in. His voice is choppy as he moves his hand to your clit, his fingers moving expertly, hips thrusting harder, looking to help you find your release before he found his.

“Right there,” you throw your head back, feeling the familiar sensation in your lower abdomen start to coil - and it explodes. You cum hard, almost with a scream and Jake holds you close, hitting his own orgasm, hips still thrusting in and out of you as he lets himself ride his own high.

“Feel better?” Jake voice cuts the air between you both as you both return from chasing your respective highs. You can feel him softening inside you, but neither of you make to move.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small sigh of relief escaping you, “for now.”

“For now?” You response makes Jake raise a brow as he withdraws from your slowly. You make quick work of pulling your dress over your head, dropping the garment onto the stool you had vacated, fully intending to don the same piece of clothing after you had gotten cleaned up.

“I might need some help again later,” you say, looking at Jake, holding his gaze as you run a hand along your slit, drawing up his cum which had started to leak out of you with a finger before popping it into your mouth. The sight makes Jake’s jaw slacken, his eyes darkening, as he feels himself start to get hard again.

“Can we please skip fucking lunch?” He asks, only to see you smirk, almost wickedly with a shake of your head as you hop off the table.

“No,” you call out as you walk towards to shower. Jake groans, following you, his cock twitching at the side of a glistening trail that had started to run its way down your inner thigh.

It was going to be a long suffering afternoon.

[juanarc-thethird]

Jaune OF #2

Beacon Academy is in chaos, a manhunt is going on. Most of the female students, and some males, are looking for a sexy man. Target: Jaune Arc. They want him dead or alive, I mean just alive, they need him alive. No one is going to die today… I hope.

Girl 1: Have you seen him?!

Girl 2: He is not in the cafeteria!

Girl 1: Where are you SexyKinght?!!

People search every floor, every room, even every closet. No place is safe for Jaune Arc, but for some reason... they can't find him. Is this the work of an incredible mind that knows how to stay in the shadows or maybe knows how to keep a low profile to fool everyone in their face? Only Oum knows what kind of person they are dealing with.

Girl 1: Wait a minute?

The girl sees a person with blond hair. This makes her suspicious and she decides to investigate who she is.

Girl 1: Hey, wait!

The girl approaches the blond young man. She grabs his shoulder and flips him over in a snap.

Girl 1: Got you! Wait, you're not my SexyKnight.

In front of her was a person who looks like Jaune. The only difference is that he has a big and majestic mustache. His mustache is so beautiful that the girl can't stop looking at it.

Felipe: Hola, my name is Felipe.

Girl 1: Felipe?

Felipe: Si, I am an exchange student.

Girl 1: Exchange student?

Felipe: Yes, I'm here for an academic program.

Out of nowhere an orange haired girl appears with the same beautiful but dazzling mustache.

Gloria: And I am his compañera, Gloria!

Girl 1: Ooookey…. Have you seen this handsome daddy?

She pulls a picture out of her pocket of Jaune choking on a sandwich.

Gloria: Hahaha! They used a good angle for y- Agh!!

Felipe hits Gloria with his elbow right in the ribs and then responds to the girl.

Felipe: No, I have never seen that man in my life. Nunca e visto a ese hombre en mi vida. He looks boring.

She then looks at Gloria.

Gloria: Yo tampoco! (Me neither!)

The girl is confused by Gloria's response in Spanish.

Girl 1: I-I see...

She then puts her precious photo of Jaune in her pocket and takes out a piece of paper and a pen. She writes something on the paper and gives it to Felipe.

Girl 1: If you see him, please call me or send me a message with his location.

The girl leaves with her friend, leaving Felipe and Gloria alone. Felipe throws the piece of paper to the ground and they relax. He takes a deep breath and crouches down as he supports himself on his knees.

Felipe (Jaune): Oh my goodness. I thought they already found us.

In Gloria's case, she is still happy and touching her mustache.

Gloria (Nora): I'm more surprised that these mustaches fooled them. How did you come up with such an amazing idea?

Felipe (Jaune): I'm more worried about the future hunters and huntresses of this academy after we tricked them so easily. I mean, how can they be so clueless?

After a little rest, he gets up.

Felipe (Jaune): Ok, we should focus. There we have to keep moving and we have to get to the Bullhead port without being discovered. Once out of the academy, we can be quiet and you can start a rumor that SexyKnight is someone else.

She stands at attention and salutes him.

Gloria (Nora): Of course my beautiful leader. I will follow him until the end of time.

Felipe (Jaune): I'm still a little mad at you.

Nora pouts at his comment.

They walk down the hall until they reach a new corridor. Jaune looks to both sides and sees a group of students on the left side. He waits for the right moment to slip past them. The students start to walk in the opposite direction from them and Jaune uses that opportunity to continue on his way.

Felipe (Jaune): OK let's go.

They walk quietly to the right. Jaune takes a couple of glances back to make sure no one is following them and to check that the students haven't turned around and seen them. Without paying attention to where he is walking, Jaune bumps into a door that just opened in front of him.

Felipe (Jaune): Agh!

Gloria (Nora): Jefe!!

On the other side of the door a rabbit girl looks out to see what happened and realizes that she hit someone with the door by accident.

Velvet: Oh my gosh!!

She kneels to check if her classmate was hurt.

Velvet: Are you okay? Did you get hurt?

Felipe (Jaune): (Oh Shit! is Velvet! Play it cool Jaune, play it cool!)

He takes a deep breath and gets into character.

Felipe (Jaune): Estoy bien. I'm fine.

Velvet doesn't answer but stares at him as if she's trying to solve a puzzle. He notices this and is concerned.

Felipe (Jaune): I have something on my face? (Does she know who I am?)

Those words make Velvet react and she blushes from how embarrassed she is for staring at him.

Velvet: I'm so sorry, you look like the guy I'm looking for. Have you seen a tall boy who is blonde named Jaune? You may have seen him in one of your classes.

Felipe (Jaune): Sorry, I don't know that hombre.

Velvet turns to see the girl next to Jaune.

Velvet: How about you? Have you seen a guy with that description?

Gloria (Nora): Que?

Velvet: I see, thank you very much. Umm…let me help you up.

Velvet shows him her hand, Jaune takes it, and he gets up.

Felipe (Jaune): Gracias

Velvet: You're welcome… Well, I'm leaving. Sorry again for hitting you with the door.

Felipe (Jaune): Don't worry, I hope you find the person you're looking for.

Gloria (Nora): Adios!!

Each of them went their own way. Suddenly velvet feels like she kicked something. She looks at what it was and sees that it is a phone. She reaches down to pick it up.

Velvet: Hey, I think you dropped your phone!

Just as she picks up the phone, the screen lights up, showing an image of Team JNPR. Jaune checks his pockets and realizes that it is his phone. Unaware that Velvet saw the image, he went to retrieve it.

Felipe (Jaune): Muchas gracias, I didn't realize I dropped it.

Jaune holds out his hand to receive his phone.

Velvet: No problem...

She stands up, turns around, and in a single motion she rips off Jaune's fake mustache.

Velvet: ...Jaune.

Jaune immediately covers his mouth and begins to scream in pain.

Jaune: MIERDA, MI BIGOTE! (FUCK, MY MOUSTACHE!) PUTA MADRE! (MOTHERFUCKER!)

Velvet doesn't react to this and looks at him with a blank stare.

Velvet: I know it's you, Jaune.

Jaune continues to scream in pain and looks at Velvet. He sees that she doesn't react the way he wanted and slowly lowers the tone of his scream until he falls silent.

Jaune: Hey, you can't blame me for trying.

Velvet: Let me get to the point, I want to take some pictures of you…

Jaune: That doesn't sound bad.

Velvet:...Naked

Jaune: And there it is. When?

Velvet is surprised at his unusual response.

Velvet: Sorry?

Jaune: You want to take pictures of me, right? When do you want to do it?

Velvet: I… I didn't expect you to accept. I had a whole plan on how to blackmail you in my head. But then you tell me that it's ok?

Jaune: Ok ok ok, look I don't have all day. I don't know if you noticed but I have the whole school looking for me. When do you want to take the photos? Oh, and can I have my phone back, please?

Velvet: Yes of course.

She hands him the phone and he puts it in his pocket.

Velvet: How about today at 5:30pm? In my room.

Jaune: Sounds good. Just let me check with my agent if I'm free at that time. Oh look, speaking of the devil, he's right behind you.

Velvet: You have an agent?

She turns around but no one is there. After a few seconds she realizes she was tricked and looks back to where Jaune was. He was no longer standing in front of her. He was running to the opposite side of her with Nora on her shoulder looking at Velvet's direction. The only thing left were the fake mustaches on the floor. From afar, Nora can be heard screaming.

Nora: So long, sucker!!!

Velvet: You trick me!!!

She pulls out her phone and talks to someone.

Velvet: He is heading to the training area. I repeat, he is heading to the training area!!!

Back with our favorite duo. Jaune is running down the hall while Nora is still on her shoulder.

Nora: So where are we going now? Do we follow the same plan or…?

Jaune: We will continue with the plan. We just need to change our route a bit. Maybe we can use the back door to the training room? Oh the lockers! We can use the lockers to escape! I am a genius!

????: Yes you are~

Jaune: What the fuck?

At that moment, a machine gun is heard and a line of bullets comes out of the wall and blocks their path. That scares them and Jaune drops Nora to the ground. She got up and stood behind him.

Jaune: Holy shit!!

Nora: We are under attack!!

The machine gun stops and from the hole in the wall appears the incomparable Coco Adel. She looks at Jaune and smiles at him.

Coco: Hello Jaune~

Then she turns to see Nora but with a look of disgust.

Coco: Nora.

Nora, still behind Jaune, answers her.

Nora: Rude!

Jaune feels the danger that Coco emits right now, so he decides to do what he knows better than anyone. Fool people with nonsense.

Jaune: Hi Coco, you look amazing today. Are those new sunglasses?

She points her gun at them and approaches them

Coco: Yes they are new. Thank you for noticing it.

Jaune: No problem. Can I help you with something?

Coco: I need you to confirm something for me. Is that you in this photo?

She shows him a picture of a man wearing Pumpkin Pete's Trunks-type underwear, and he's displaying a colossal package.

Jaune: That ain't me.

Coco: Really?~ Wouldn't you mind if I ask you to take off your shirt to see if that's true?

Jaune: (Ok, Jaune, think. It's Coco you're dealing with, so you can't trick her like the others. She's one of the best fighters and she's smart. What should I do?)

As Jaune thinks of a solution, as Coco gets closer and closer to them. Nora puts herself between her and Jaune to protect him.

Nora: Stay back!

Coco: Relax, I just want to know if it's him, ok? Jaune, if you want I can give you a hand? But I must tell you that my hand tends to slip sometimes.

After hearing that last sentence, an idea came to mind. It's a low blow, but it'll work.

Jaune: *Quietly* Nora, play along with me no matter what happens.

He takes a deep breath and suddenly executes his plan.

Jaune: *Gasp* Coco Adele! That is sexual harassment!

Coco: What?! No, it was just a joke!

Nora: *Quietly* Oh, I see what you're doing. You are evil. *To Coco* Sexual harassment is never a joke!

Jaune starts acting like he's really crying.

Jaune: I've always admired you, and now I find out that you do these things?!

Coco is taken out of her comfort zone, and she panics.

Coco: I didn't mean too! It was a joke, I swear!

Jaune: *Looks away* I can't trust you anymore.

Nora: Perverted!

Coco: I am not a pervert!

Jaune: I need some time alone.

Nora turns around and comforts him.

Nora: Everything will be fine Jaune, don't worry. *To Coco* Are you happy now?!

Coco: It wasn't my intention, I'm really sorry.

Nora: Look, just go away.

Coco begins to walk backwards to leave and continues to apologize.

Coco: I'm sorry.

Out of nowhere Velvet appears on the other side, leaving Jaune and Nora in between her and Coco.

Velvet: Do not believe them! They are lying to you! He's not even crying!

Jaune is very upset that Velvet revealed his plan. All that effort wasted. He gets up and turns to see Velvet.

Jaune: God damn it! This is why they bully you!

They all gasp in surprise at that comment.

Nora: Jaune!

Jaune: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I got a little angry there. I just want to get out of here, and you girls look at me with lustful eyes. I have every right to be mean to you, at least just for today.

Velvet: Seems fair to me, but that's not the point! You're trapped now, there's nowhere to go!

Velvet and Coco begin to approach them. Nora and Jaune are back to back. Nora looking at Velvet and Jaune looking at Coco.

Nora: *Panic* What will we do now?! We don't have our weapons with us!

Jaune: Relax, just... just let me think, ok?

Coco: Thinking about what Jaune? You guys are in the middle of a hallway, surrounded.

Jaune: *Still thinking* Shut up!

Velvet: Just give in and let me show your body to the world with my photography. We will be the window of new inspiration!

Jaune: *Quietly* Window?

At that moment a light bulb goes on in Jaune's head.

Jaune: Nora, get ready to do "The Wrecking Ball"!

Velvet/Coco: The what?

Nora: But Jaune, I don't have my weapon!

Jaune: *Turns to her* Use me.

Nora: But...

Jaune: I have a lot of Aura, trust me.

Nora: O-Ok...

Nora grabs Jaune by the collar of his shirt and his belt and starts spinning him around without stopping.

Coco: What are they doing?!

Nora: AAAAH!!!

Nora screams as she picks up more speed. The two girls can feel a bit of wind coming off of them. At that moment Velvet realized what they were planning to do.

Velvet: Coco stop them!

But it was too late.

Nora: HYAAAH!!!

She let Jaune go towards the wall. The impact caused debris to fall, leaving Velvet and Coco blinded for a moment. When everything is clear, all they can see is a large hole in the wall, a window to freedom.

Coco: Holy shit! Is he crazy?!

Velvet takes a look outside the hole in the wall and doesn't see Nora or Jaune anywhere.

Velvet: They escaped. We'll have to start the search again.

Coco: I heard them talking something about the lockers. Maybe we should set a trap for them there.

Pyrrha: Good idea!

Velvet/Coco: Huh?

They turn to look behind them and out of nowhere they are knocked out.

Meanwhile:

Jaune and Nora are hiding behind some bushes in the courtyard. Nora checking the coast for enemies, while Jaune recovers with his aura.

Nora: So, are we going to change our plan?

Jaune: Let me rest first and then we'll see. Most likely, yes. But give me about 15 minutes, okay?

Nora: Ok

Jaune: Thank you.

He says as he closes his eyes to rest. While they try to take a breath. A new group has them in their sights.

May: *Using heat vision binoculars* I see someone hiding in the bushes.

Neon: It must be Jaune. Ready girls?

Reese/Arslan: Ready.

Neon: Let's move.

[yourmomxx]

Father of Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,2k

a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!

flashbacks are written in italics

pt1 pt2 pt3

Cleveland, Ohio 2002

The bar was crowded with people.

Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.

In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.

♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪

On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.

Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.

And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.

But whatever.

His Dad could kiss his ass.

♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪

“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.

Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.

Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.

He moved his gaze up and down her body.

Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.

Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.

A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.

He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”

He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.

“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.

“What’s yours?”

Dean Winchester.

But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.

“Dean Hansley.”

Gloria smiled again.

What a nice smile she had.

"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."

And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.

And he talked back with her.

And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.

By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.

The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.

A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.

♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪

Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.

And damn, that girl had high tolerance.

Dean thought she was amazing.

“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.

Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?

It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.

Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.

“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.

Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.

He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.

Dean threw a look around.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.

Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.

“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”

♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪

Hell yeah.

A boyish grin started forming on his face.

“An offer like that - how could I say no?”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

“Read it again for me.”

Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.

Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.

They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.

“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.

“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”

Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.

“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”

He shuddered.

“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.

“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”

He was quick to cut himself off.

Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.

“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.

“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”

Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.

And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.

“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”

Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.

Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.

“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.

Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.

“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Black Hawk, Colorado 2002

“To listen to this voicemail, call-”

A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.

“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.

“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.

“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”

“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”

A tone.

“Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to this voicema-”

The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.

“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”

She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”

“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to th-”

“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”

This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.

“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.

“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”

“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”

John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.

“You have no more voicemails.”

That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.

“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.

“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”

Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”

John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.

Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.

Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.

Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.

They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.

Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.

Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.

In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.

Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.

“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.

“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”

Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.

The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.

With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.

It seemed cozy.

They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.

Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.

There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.

Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.

When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.

“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.

“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.

“I never thought I would see you two again.”

Dean felt a sting in his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.

Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”

She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”

A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.

Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”

She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.

“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”

While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.

“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.

“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.

“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”

Sam swallowed hard.

“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”

Or for any person, really.

She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”

Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.

“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”

She sniffled.

Oh dear God.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.

“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”

She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”

She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.

“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”

“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.

And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”

She forced herself to a smile.

“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”

Dean forbid himself a snort.

“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.

He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.

Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.

“Dean.”

He turned to face her.

“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”

Dean straightened his shoulders.

“Yes, I know.”

“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”

“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”

She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.

“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”

“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”

She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Lewiston, Michigan 2004

The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.

The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.

The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.

In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:

24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind

No. God, no.

He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.

R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.

There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.

John slammed the newspaper on the round table.

“Damn it!” He yelled.

And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.

—

He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.

He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.

Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.

—

Central Nebraska

To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.

She was furious.

John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.

It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.

The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.

“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.

“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.

“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.

“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.

John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.

“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”

“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.

“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.

“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”

John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?

But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.

“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.

“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”

A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.

“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”

Agreeing and empathizing with her.

“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”

Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.

“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.

“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”

Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.

“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”

There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.

Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-

But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.

No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.

“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”

Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.

Hopefully.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.

In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.

Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.

Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.

When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.

Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.

“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.

The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.

Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.

They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.

Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.

The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.

“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”

The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”

Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’

“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”

Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.

“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.

“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”

“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”

Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.

“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”

“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.

“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.

Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.

The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.

“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.

She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.

Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.

“What do you mean?”

Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”

Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.

“So, where to now?” He asked instead.

Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

They made their way out of the castle.

“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.

“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”

Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2006

Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.

When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.

“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.

Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.

The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.

The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.

Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.

Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.

Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.

Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.

Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”

“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.

In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.

Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.

And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.

Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.

“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.

The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.

He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.

The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”

There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.

The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.

—

A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.

The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.

Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.

“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.

Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.

“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“

There it was.

Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean looked away.

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.

“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.

“It’s alright. We’re good.”

Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.

“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”

Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”

Is this lady for real-

“But he can.”

And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.

—

Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.

Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.

Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.

Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.

Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.

Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.

Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.

“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”

Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.

Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.

Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.

“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.

Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.

“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.

“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.

The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”

The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.

In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.

“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”

Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”

Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.

The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.

“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”

Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.

He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”

Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”

Y/N was beaming now.

She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.

“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.

The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.

“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.

“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”

Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.

“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.

“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.

Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.

Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.

“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”

Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.

Dean found himself slightly smiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.

“You love that kid.” It was a statement.

Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.

Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.

“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.

Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.

“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”

Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.

“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.

Y/N clutched her shirt.

“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.

He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”

Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.

Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.

“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.

Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?

“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”

Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.

“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.

Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.

“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”

The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.

“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.

“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.

“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.

He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”

Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”

Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?

His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.

“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.

He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.

“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.

“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”

She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.

“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”

Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.

Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”

Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.

“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.

She shook her head violently. “Never!”

Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.

“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”

“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.

“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.

He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.

“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.

And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.

[cinnamoon-roll2]

The Famished Doctor and Their Devoted Ghost

Danny takes on a new murder case for the Roseville Gazette that people presume is his, but he's never taken the organs of his victims. His curiosity gnaws at him, he needs to know who is this new homicidal partner he shares the town with, and who is this new girl that's making him doubt about his future plans.

Chapter 2: Um… An awkward first meeting

Chapter summary: A white mask with the permanent scream, those black eyes seeing back at her, how in the actual hell she had ended up like this.

Chapter Trigger Warnings: explicit mention of murder, cannibalism and violence, explicit monologue of Reader thoughts of cannibalism, murder and violence, Danny being himself.

Wc: 4,5K

AO3 Link Previous Next

Taglist: @mariamyousef702 , @weaponxgames

Tuesday, she had taken a shift at the maternity ward that day, she loved gossiping with the mothers, but she hated the cries of newborns with all her heart, well she loved the cries for help of many of her victims but she hated the high-pitched cries of babies. Today she had seen Casey behaving uneasily, in her words she was showing the first signs of paranoia, her suspicions were that her boyfriend was becoming suspicious of her constant flirting at work or that the boss was noticing how she wasn't doing half of her tasks and was passing them on to others.

She let her mind focus on what she had to do that day, she had to go visit young mother Cindy, she worked at the Roseville Gazette, she was very nice to her. This was going to be her first child that she had decided to have by artificial insemination, she didn't mind being a single mother, she was in her sixth month, her belly was very big and in three weeks she was going to start her maternity retreat. Something he liked about her was how gossipy she was, he loved to sit next to her and listen to everything that went on in her office, it was because of her that he found out that Olsen had a reputation for being a womanizer, an idiot with a big ego, many envied him for his success with Ghostface.

For her he was just another idiot who profited from the art of another, that morning she had seen the article he had done for her crime on Sunday, she was half offended that they would take her work by the hands of Ghostface when it had been her, at least something that made her happy was to see how Olsen left a little doubt that it had been the other murderer, but it would have been rather that a new one had arrived in the city. If she could, she would send Gloria's heart to him as a thank you and she could put herself in the spotlight. 

She arrived at the room where Cindy was waiting, she had to take her vital signs and then leave her in Dr. Anne's hands for an ultrasound.  She smiled when she saw Cindy's reddish hair, greeted her and went to the shelves to take out the sphygmomanometer for her blood pressure, it was strange for the others to see her using that obsolete instrument when digital ones already existed. 

"Could you please give me your arm, Miss Cindy?"  She asked holding up the instrument, she watched as the woman did as request, she saw in Cindy's eyes how she was already going to complain to her for calling her Miss.

"Luna, I already told you that you could stop calling me Miss." The redhead smiled at the sight of her favorite nurse as she cooperated with what she asked. "Luna, you're not going to believe what happened in the office, I have to tell you the gossip of the history." He noticed how she was so excited to tell someone else her experiences, Fanny adored this woman, she was on his never to attack list as well as being included in his moral code.

She heard about the new rumour that Olsen had fallen out with the boss for the thousandth time, that would explain her appearance in the paper, it was normal that Olsen did not totally follow the orders given to him by his boss and took a lot of creative liberties in the articles he did for the Gazette. He had become famous for being stubborn and not changing his opinions for others.

She kept taking her vital signs, the sides of her heart and lungs, to write them down on the chart paper used to report to the doctor. She continued to listen as the woman told her about her experiences at work, the typical love affairs of secretaries and bosses, the problems of having a swollen belly when she was a reporter who had to visit many places for her writing.

She let her mind be consumed by her thoughts, what could she have that day, a nice lemon liver or lung stew, she had so much to choose from. She did believe in the phrase it is what you eat, for she was a very human person, even if she considered that those, she ate were not very nice, and kind. She snapped out of her own thoughts when she heard Cindy calling out to her to see if she was paying attention, so she decided to answer her.

"I'm sorry Cindy, I was thinking about today's duties, I apologize for missing your story" She answered to pick up the stethoscope to listen to the heartbeat of the baby growing inside the redhead.

As she listened to her heartbeat, she heard Cindy mention that she already had several names planned for the tenderness growing inside her, Fanny could only smile as she heard that she planned Sydney as a possibility, a very nice name and a beautiful city as well.

"That will be all, Cindy, I'll go and get Dr. Anne, she'll be along shortly to see you" They both said their goodbyes, as Fanny left, she left the clipboard in the door holder.

She started to walk towards the rest room of this area, when she got there, she saw Dr. Anne Jackson, when she saw her the woman got up to start walking towards her.

Anne Jackson was a 42-year-old woman, a brunette with a few grey hairs from her extensive experience in obstetrics. Mrs. Jackson smiled at the sight of the blonde.

"Dr. Jackson, Miss Miller, you are ready for your consultation." Fanny advised as she gave the doctor a sweet grin.

"Thank you, Graham, you left the papers at the door, didn't you?" the doctor asked as she began to put her gown back on, to which the blonde nodded to add.

"Yes ma'am, also, remember after Miss Miller, comes Mrs. Porter, remember to wear gowns because of the mysophobia." Luna said as she watched the doctor start to make her way to the office.

"Thank you, Graham, now if you'll excuse me there is work to do." The woman began to walk back the way Luna had come from, she sighed as she felt satisfied to see how she had finished a task.

She decided to look at the time on her pocket watch (it was one of those pocket watches you would see in the 19th century) noting that it was the start of her lunch break, she went to check out and collect her things to go out for lunch, something that was routine for her every Tuesday.

She usually went to lunch at a family business, a restaurant called Daisy, where they had the best sandwiches in town, her favourite was always the Italian one, the combination of the sausages, the two types of cheese, mozzarella and provolone, and the fresh vegetables, was a work of art.

She began to walk to the restaurant, which was only a block and a half from her work, hoping that her lunch break would be peaceful and that there would be no inconvenience of any kind.

Danny was sitting in a booth of the diner with a strawberry milkshake and a half-eaten sandwich in front of him, he had his notebook of drafts of his writings, he couldn't believe his luck, first he had a murderous block and now writer's block, he swore by Philly that he was going to kill anyone who was near him.

He looked up from his notebook when he heard the door chime, his curiosity made him peek out of the side of the booth where he was to see who it was that had entered the premises.

That's when he saw the girl that lately was making him doubt about what would be his next step in Roseville, Luna Graham, by the information he had collected from Cindy when he had talked to her about how her pregnancy was progressing, by the information she had given him, Luna was from Boston but because of her charitable works she rotated from state to state in any hospital or clinic that asked for help, the last one she had been in was in Texas, where she left after having problems with the weather, to be specific fainting due to heat strokes, something suspicious if you asked him. Also, he found that the girl seemed to have Latin ancestry from a small Central American country thanks to her mother, her blonde hair was because of her father, who was American, she said she had gained all the recessive genes from her father, something that unfortunately had happened to him as well.

He took a good look at what the girl was wearing now, her light blue nurse's scrub, he thought it was adorable to see that her uniform shirt had a sun and moon drawn where her heart should be and she was wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath with the same design, it must have been personalised. He saw that she was walking around with a bag on her side that seemed to contain one or more heavy books, he was very attentive to see how Daisy, the owner of the dinner, changed her frown when she saw the blonde.

"Luna, what's up, I assume you'll be ordering your usual, sweetheart." Daisy spoke to her very charismatic, now she had another clue from the owner of her uncertainty, she came to the restaurant often. Luna nodded as she set her things down on the chair next to where she sat at the bar.

"That's right, Miss Daisy, I hope, if there's any of my usual, it's been a tiring day." Luna spoke as she pulled a medical magazine out of her bag, she was still beaming, that smile was strange in Danny's eyes, it seemed natural but artificial, something she had only ever seen in the very smiles he gave as Jed.

He pondered a bit if he should approach the girl, but first he was not going to let that excellent Italian sandwich go to waste, it was his favourite of all the food places in town. When he finished, he took his milkshake and started walking to the bar, getting increasingly into character as he got closer.

"What a great surprise to meet you here, dear missy." He spoke gently as he saw the woman's surprise as he saw her face, he could quickly read the title of the magazine that was in her possession, "Medical Novelties in the field of forensic pathology, read the new methods of performing autopsies on patients", how curious that a nurse would read something about autopsies when her job was the furthest thing from that field of study.

"Um... It's a pleasure to see you too, Mr. Olsen." He watched as the girl blushed, he did not know if it was from embarrassment or discomfort, either way, it made him feel more interested in this prey in front of him. "Am... I mean Jed, I'm sorry I forgot your request for me to call you by name at our next meeting."

He wanted to laugh at how the girl just embarrassed herself, he waved his hand as he said, "You have nothing to worry about missy, I rather appreciate how much respect you have for someone like me." He let out that smug smirk he hated to do, but Jed was very narcissistic and needed it.

The blonde blushed more intensely at his words, as she tried to hide from his gaze in her magazine. Danny smiled inwardly at how adorable she looked, like a scared doe before the evil fox that would eat her.

"It's what one should normally do, Jed." She spoke almost in a whisper as she remained embarrassed, fiddled with the pages of the magazine.

The brun continued to converse with the blonde, it was a casual chat between the two, normal questions were asked, what do you like, how had her life in Roseville gone on, for Danny it was an interrogation without the girl being aware of it, he wanted to know more about his next muse.

Luna seemed to be everything Cindy had narrated to him, a very good young woman, with a sweet heart, she spoke to him, even if she was a heavy introvert, with honesty. She had told him about her Texas experiences, how it was fun to see all kinds of different injuries from the craziest stories of field work.

He laughed with her when she told him one of those crazy stories, some farmers came up with the idea of practicing archery with their family for the upcoming hunting season, because their youngest son, who was 10, ended up shooting an arrow into the backside of one of his older brothers, she says she still remembers all the curses she learned that day thanks to the family's frustration.

When Daisy returned, she herself was surprised to see that shy light blue-eyed girl, she handed her the sandwich with a smile, as she watched curiously.

"You are a very interesting person, Jed." The girl commented to him as she started to take her lunch, they both continued with their talk, for an outsider they should be good friends.

Some of the topics they touched on were, how Luna was impressed by the events in the city, Jed told her a bit about the old jobs he had had in other cities, always in gazettes. They both noted the casualty that they both had lifestyles that would be considered nomadic, that only reaffirmed Danny's suspicions that something was hidden by this woman.

"I never thought the life of a journalist was all that interesting, honestly." She admitted the girl after swallowing a good bite of her sandwich, Jed smiled with his ego as, he said it was just the usual for someone like him.

Luna finished eating and continued talking to the brown-eyed man, Danny didn't want to accept it, however, he felt that little voice in the back of his brain was ordering him that he had to get that hypnotic color out of her, that strong red, that red that left the metallic scent in all his sense of smell. He snapped out of his trance-like state as he heard the blonde's apology that she had to start getting back to his work.

"I appreciate your company today, Jed, still, it's almost the end of my break for lunch, hopefully we can meet again." The girl put away her magazine as she gave that cutesy smile, he conceded with his opinion.

"Only luck would allow me to see such a sweet missy like you again, my dear." He winked his eye mischievously, he wanted to tease as he watched the girl drop off her meal money as quickly as possible while escaping her courtship.

He mimicked her actions leaving the money for his order on the bar, he began his walk back to the office, keeping the whole new idea formulated in his brain, it seems his ultimate work of art in this city was beginning to take shape.

That Wednesday night her only company was cheap Chinese food, the binoculars in her hands and her notebook, you might wonder what the hell she was doing at fucking 1am on the roof of a few flats staring at a specific flat on the 4th floor. Well, the answer was very simple, it was the end of his second month, her much-loved gluttony had caused her to be left with two provisions out of the seven she had collected from Gloria, she cursed NBC for letting her get inspired and cravings from watching how well Hannibal Lecter cooked.

Appartement 4-D was where her new dinner He found him when he had gone for a follow-up of a shoulder dislocation, when she saw his record, she noticed how spectacular his record was, his body mass was perfect, he had an excellent balance, he didn't have much fat but he had enough to be healthy. If she managed to have a good time, she could even take cuts out of his muscles, something she hadn't done for months, she never found such a good candidate to spend her time on it.

With her binoculars she observed the whole structure of the building, the emergency staircase seemed to be difficult to climb because of how old it was, she still had a few days to test that metal staircase. The windows were old and the locks were rusty, a few taps with her cane and she would be able to get in easily. She also had to test the density of the walls just in case the prosciutto she was chasing might put up a fight, she hoped her mixed martial arts skills would help her against the big guy.

She took some chop suey she had bought from the 24/7 restaurant in town, took her notebook and wrote down the most important things about the building that would be her new canvas.

In that booklet were all the most important things about each victim she had stalked, she always put the name of a cut of meat or a cold meat.

Her creativity could be one of her best qualities, the way she created that code which made it difficult to know what she was saying in that booklet, what she mentioned was as if she was a cooking fanatic who wrote down her gastronomic experience, the way she always positioned her victims in different ways so that they didn't notice any other pattern than that of the organs.

Honestly, she did think of them as food for her, cuts of meat that she enjoyed with the best recipes she could find in her gastronomic books and recipes.

In these nights of loneliness, she began to reflect on her actions in life, even when she started all this cannibalism, in her thoughts, she helped to not hurt animals, technically humans are animals though for her and many humans were the monsters of this life, who had been the one that made her fall into this habit of cannibalizing her equals, how was their face, these and other things were hidden in that forbidden vault of her mind.

Fuck, she needed a good fucking lavender or mint ciggie, whatever but she needed smoke in her body, as she saw the lights in the flat come on, it was John just back from work, that was her cue to get out of there, the prosciutto would go to sleep, she needed at least 8 or 9 hours of sleep too, she loved Thursdays when she started at 10 am at the clinic. She picked up the few things she had on the roof, put her balaclava on and walked down the stairs to her car, which was in the alley next to the building where she was watching.

Monday, the first day of her second month in Roseville, it was exactly midnight, she had gone an hour earlier than John usually came back, she needed to set the stage. She was ready to commit her work of art today. She stared at the building in front of her, she had already unfolded the top of the stairs. She just needed a little warm up before she entered the place, you never know when she might get a wound for not having warmed up her muscles properly, something she had learned in her first year of action. She took from her car her mask, her bag and lastly the cane with the raven handle she liked to use, that same cane was from an antique shop she had gotten very cheap.

She checked that the lenses of the mask were not fogged up, and with it on she began to climb each step of the metal structure in silence, until she reached the fourth floor. She looked at the window, noticing how John had put the lock on it. Ha! What an idiot if he only realized that those locks were the cheapest, she had ever seen. She tapped on the metal, one, two, three, and it was open, she crept in, took the main items from the bag she carried in her waistband, a speaker, her cocktail, her kit and ice chest, those last two she hid under the kitchen counter.

She looked at the contents of the syringe, just in case she had brought two doses that night, she put them both in the pockets of her jacket, she started walking towards John's room, there she would place the speaker, she had recorded on tape the moans and sounds of the carnal act, on Thursday she noticed that the walls were very thin, if there was a fight back she needed something to cover it up, an extra point she had to mention was that more than once at this hour she took great aversion at hearing the upstairs neighbours committing that, she assumed John would not be surprised to hear that when he came in.

She left it on the lad's bed, smiled as she felt her mind machining every damn detail of what she would do that night, for all the most beautiful cats, how she loved being able to commit these crimes considered crimes against humanity. Seriously she should take a psychiatrist as her next victim and while she had him drugged have a session without paying, what a good idea she should write it down later.

She pulled out her pocket watch and looked at the time it was barely 12:15 am, she had a good 45 minutes to do whatever she could think of so why not play around the flat a bit, she noticed the swivel chair on the desk John had in the living room, why was it shown to her.

She swivelled and swivelled as she let little giggles escape her lips, they might think it was very childish, but it connected her to her past, as much as she disliked it, she loved bringing back the few good memories that existed from that childhood. She swivelled a few more times in the chair, before sighing and stopping to let her mind waste away in the pain of thinking about that past she hid so deep in her mind.

She looked at a fixed point before she came out of her thoughts, she decided to look in her bag for the magazine she never managed to finish reading, all thanks to Olsen’s fault, she placed her watch in her hand so she wouldn't miss the arrival of the prosciutto at any moment.

The reading was interesting, it told of a new method that was being developed to facilitate the extraction of blood from a body, a machine that would introduce formalin into the body and the blood would be drawn, something that would make the work of forensic pathologists much easier. It was interesting to see what the new decade would bring, the beginning of a new millennium, it would be interesting to see if she could come up with better ways to catch people like her, cold-blooded killers.

She looked at the glass clock, it was 12:50 am, it was time to put everything away and prepare everything, she walked gracefully into the room and played the perverted sounds that would serve as a cover. She decided that her hiding place would be a dimly lit corner with black curtains drawn.

Within minutes, she heard the jingling sound of keys going into the lock, it was a faint sound from the moaning, still, her trained ear managed to hear it, she watched as John entered the flat with a look of disgust, oh love, you don't want that to be the last face before you take your final breath.

She watched him walk around his flat without any discomfort at the lack of light, when she saw him turn his back to her, she decided to come out slowly from where she was hiding, she tightened her gloves before she was less than a metre away from him, she touched his shoulder to turn him over, just when he would react, he received a punch from Famine directly on his nose, being on her knuckle as it had been dislocated, something she would have to fix later.

John's eyes were watery, and he felt dizzy, that blow had altered all his systems. Just as he was about to defend himself, he felt a strong blow to his ribs, it seemed to be something metallic, in the little he could see he noticed the foot of his attacker, which he decided to take to unbalance him and flee to his room.

Fanny felt how she fell before the strong pull that John had given her, she almost fell to the ground if she hadn't grabbed a piece of furniture, she pulled herself together quickly seeing where her victim was going, she grabbed her cane, it was time to leave marks on the wretch. She trotted quickly to where John was staggering, pulled him by the collar of his shirt making him hit his back against the floor, placed her boot on the man's chest.

She pulled out her syringe, holding it in her dominant hand while with the other she took the baton and gave him a good stun shot to the head, in a matter of seconds she had the syringe in his jugular vein releasing the contents. She kept her boot on the Italian American’s chest, after having pulled out the syringe, she loved watching him fight to get her off him, she needed him to have a high heart rate thanks to the adrenaline, that would increase the effectiveness of the drug. She let a wicked grin begin to form on her lips as she watched the man's movements become weaker and weaker, she let more pressure build on his chest to complete saying.

"What's up rude boy, do you feel bad that a lassie like me has made you this submissive." She scoffed leaning on the knee of the leg she had on him.

She saw the man's desperation in his eyes, she would have continued to mock him, had she not noticed a movement at the window through which she had entered.

When she finally turned her face fully to see what was in it, that's when she saw the object of her current admiration in Roseville, someone who made people not want to leave their homes, Ghostface himself was staring back at her in that black abyss he had for eyes.

Bloody fucking hell, she had fucked up.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

I just saw Barbie. I'm writing meta about it. This is your spoiler warning. Do not read past this if you don't want to be spoiled. Additionally I'm going to discuss radical feminism and liberal feminism. I am neither I'm a feminist, but as a trans person I find both strains to be inaccessible and I prefer a more intersectional approach, just to state my bias upfront. Additionally I anticipate getting multiple "it's not that deep" comments on this meta. To which I respond that the movie may be deeply unserious at times but it does try to tackle gender which means we should get to talk about it.

I do want to acknowledge that this is the movie of the year, and that it's made by Mattel and Warner Brothers and as such it was literally never going to be based and the best we can hope for is what it was, which is liberal girlboss feminism. The movie was very fun and very good and it did have a surprisingly coherent view of gender and it did some things that I did like when it came to that HOWEVER as a gay transgender man watching the movie it's lack of a queer perspective was very obvious to me and took me out of it occasionally.

So I just want to establish for those who have not seen it but are reading this meta how gender works in this movie. And to recap the movie with a focus on the gender stuff rather than the main Pinocchio plot. The movie starts in Barbie land where Barbies have a good day every day and Kens only have a good day when Barbies smile at them. In Barbie land all the powerful jobs are occupied by Barbies and all the Kens have the nebulous job of "beach" which means that whatever the Barbies decide goes and the Kens are more or less subject to their whims (no word on how the Midges or Skippers or Allen fit into this barbie based higherarchy. One could guess based on a couple of scenes but it's never really lingered on)

Ken(Ryan Gosling)'s world revolves around Barbie(Margot Robbie). Ken(RG) is Barbie's(MR) boyfriend, but Barbie is good friends with Ken(Simu Liu) who she dances with and who is generally less cringefail than Ken(RG). Ken(RG) is frequently jealous of Ken(SL). Ken(RG) is also somewhat taken for granted. Barbie doesn't seem to care that much about him. He tries to kiss barbie, she doesn't reciprocate. Ken tries to hang out with Barbie, she kicks him out because it's girls night, as it is every night. So on and so forth. Barbie is not obligated to care about Ken, but she's clearly not putting in any work into maintaining this creator ordained relationship and it's clearly upsetting to Ken.

Barbie is experiencing some Real Girl tm problems such as flat feet and thoughts of death and weird Barbie who has been played with too much sends her into the real world to fix it. Ken(SL) goads Ken(RG) into going with Barbie into the real world. When Barbie learns Ken is coming her immediate assumption is that he'll slow him down.

When Ken and Barbie enter LA Barbie immediately starts experiencing Misogyny. Ken similarly starts experiencing privileges as a man which he did not have in Barbie land. This is heavy handed. Barbie verbally states that she feels like she's being gawked at in an almost violent way and Ken says he feels admired in a not at all violent way (with the outfit Ken was wearing and how he was still carrying himself with deference to barbie I sincerely doubt he would experience exactly 0 homophobia but it was necessary for him to feel that way in order to make his character arc work so I'll let it slide).

Ken goes for a walk without Barbie while barbie does plot relevant activities. He sees women showing respect to men, he sees a slide show of some kind of male role models. He feels like he can be something in this world. So he goes to a middle school library and picks up some books about patriarchy. He tries to get a job in the real world, it goes poorly, so he decides to go back to Barbie land and establish patriarchy there.

Barbie comes back to Barbie land with a friendly human woman named Gloria who works for Mattel and her MCR listening 12 year old daughter. On the way she tells her new human friend and her daughter that Barbies are in charge in Barbie land and women have all the important jobs. But as they drive into Barbie land they find that Ken has gone full radfem in their absence. He's flipped the Barbie-Ken higherarchy on its head. He's turned the dream house into a man cave. And he's some how convinced the Barbies to behave like sandwich making foot massage providing girlfriends.

And here's where I would like to start doing some meta. What has happened here? Ken is essentially a (less complex than human on account of being a doll) cisgender heterosexual white woman. He is in proximity to the ruling party, Barbie who is like a cishet white man. Ken is not on the margins the way that Allen and Midge are. His occupation is Barbie's boyfriend. Ken got a taste of what it was like when the gendered oppression that he is used to is flipped and he decided that's what he wants. He doesn't much care how the discontinued dolls feel about this, he's not thinking about them, nor is the movie. He doesn't really see a problem with there being a division between Barbies and Kens, he doesn't see a problem with one group being subservient. He just doesn't want to be low on the food chain. Ken is right to want liberation for Kens but he thinks that he can obtain that by taking the jobs away from Barbies and giving them to kens. This is why I said Ken has gone full radfem in Barbie's absence. He hasn't gotten rid of the gender essentialism, he hasn't questioned whether power should be shared between Barbies and Kens. Ken is right to throw Barbies shit out of the dream house and kick her to the curb, she doesn't value him like he deserves from a relationship. He's wrong to try to change the constitution to put Kens in charge and change it to Kenland and force all Barbies into the position that Kens previously occupied. I relate this to radfems because radical feminism relies on bioessentialist assumptions and posits that men are always oppressors by their nature and that women would be better off without them. A lot of what makes terfs angry at trans women is that trans people question whether women and men are so easily separately boxed like this and trans women specifically are seen as male infiltrators. Most of them succumb to becoming transphobes before people but on a base level radical feminism is a reactionary hatred of men that is usually based in genuine hurt. Ken is on some all Barbies are pigs shit here rather than examining society and attempting to make it more equitable. I think he needs to sit down with Magic Earring Ken and talk about gender to gain some perspective.

Both me and the movie agree that Kens knee jerk Ken liberation at the Barbies' expense is wrong. Ken even later acknowledged that he didn't even care about patriarchy he just wanted to feel valued. But where me and the movie start to be at odds is when they do a girl boss style ousting of the Kens. Gloria gives a speech about the female grievance she has from the real world and it somehow works on the Barbies despite the fact that the movie previously established that sexism and all of its intricacies and the feelings it engenders are completely foreign to the Barbies. But the Barbies have always been in charge in Barbie land. They're passingly familiar with real world sexism as an abstract concept that they believe they defeated in the 1960s, but they don't experience it, they live in a everyone is valid girlboss utopia. The only way to become ugly is for someone in the real world to play with you too hard, something they can't control. There's no pressure to be pretty because everyone is already pretty and they compliment each other routinely. Barbie doesn't experience any problems being perfect until Gloria starts drawing her with existential dread, and all of the other Barbies are horrified by it as if they've never heard of such a thing. It's a malady that their dear friend is experiencing not a fact of life like it would have to be for Gloria's message to land.

Then they come up with this plan and they free the Barbies and use romantic jealousy to turn the Kens against each other. My problem with this is that in the established world where Kens are the repressed gender, this is essentially putting a bunch of dolls who's oppression is based in being a romantic object for Barbie into misery business ass situations. We're really weaponizing the Kens' internalized misandry against them and saying girlboss? The Kennish desire for Barbie's validation is being used as a tool to oppress them and the movie just... Doesn't see it despite seeming to having coherent liberal feminist messaging*.

Speaking of Liberal feminist messaging. When the Kens realize they've been turned against each other they link arms and head to where the Barbies are. The Barbies have put their constitution back in place. Ken(RG) realizes he's lost and he runs inside crying and Barbie comes to comfort him. Barbie pays lip service to Ken finding who he is without her and to them being "Barbie" and "Ken" instead of "Barbie and Ken" but then when the Kens band together and ask for a supreme court justice President Barbie gives them a concession of a lower court justice and the Kens have to work their way up, the voice over stating that maybe they'll get to where women are irl in a couple decades, and this is treated as a victory somehow. Like putting the girl boss barbietopia back in place at the expense of the Kens is somehow better than the Kens doing the same but in the opposite direction. This after she apologizes to weird Barbie and offers her a cabinet position, treating the most ostracized barbie as more valuable then any Ken.

The closest the movie ever comes to acknowledgeing a perspective outside of the Barbie/Ken binary is when Allen tries to leave Barbieland during the Ken takeover. Allen seems discontented with both the barbieocracy and the kenocracy and he tries to escape containment when Gloria and her emo daughter are leaving Barbie land. He argues that no one will give a shit about a life-sized Allen in the real world because nobody remembers Allen and then he tries to leave with them. Gloria and her daughter change their minds and go back to help Barbie and Allen's plot line just ends there.

There's all these cameos from background and discontinued Dolls. Skipper who's boobs get bigger, Barbie who's a camera, sugardaddy Ken, and magic earring Ken are all in weird Barbies weird house, Midge has a house near Barbie but is judged by the voiceover for being a pregnant doll and Barbie seems to agree, and Allen is the only one who doesn't have duplicates and is sort of in the background casting doubt, but they never follow through on these dolls place in the higherarchy. Which is fine, this movie is the Barbie movie, it's about stereotypical Barbie becoming a real girl and going to the gynecologist. But I do think that they established some dolls on the margins and then left them there, and as someone on the margins in real life I want to know what's going on with them. Most people going to this movie are gonna be Barbies and Kens so they don't touch on it and I think that's kinda sad, but not every movie has to be for me I guess.

TL;DR: the Barbie movie lacks a queer perspective and has some moments where it's stated gender metaphor falls apart because of its necessarily liberal politics.

All that said. I liked the movie. I'm leveling this criticism because it was better than I expected it to be. I didn't expect to go into the theatre and think about gender like that and I did so it deserves points for that even if I have problems with the execution. I thought it would be a shallow Pinocchio plot but it did something fresh with the doll who wants to be a real girl plot and it was genuinely good cinema in terms of the effects and the music and the visual motifs. It was a fun experience I laughed several times. I would recommend it despite being critical of it.

*coherent in that it is a message that has semi consistent internal logic not in that it's internal logic is correct or sound.

[danicadenniss]

DreamWorks Trolls

Branch: Troll Of The Wildglade

Chapter 4: Capture With Fear

In the Trolls Brotherhood AU, Warning that it's going to be violent, Branch's darkest fear about the fire. Dante Reyes survived from the fire.

Next day, at the Village's museum of historical, a female tour guide show Talons Bounty Troll Hunters' fallen leader during the fire, since 20 years ago in the forest.

Female Tour Guide: That's was Talons Bounty Troll Hunters' fallen leader was killed by the fires in the woods.

A White South African teenage girl with long light auburn hair, green eyes, pale skin complexion, some freckles on her cheeks and wearing a white collared, button up shirt, a light gray undershirt, a blue sweater with 3/4 sky blue sleeves, a dark pink above the knee skirt with lilac and bubblegum pink checkered capri leggings and lavender Mary Jane's flats and writing down on her journal, she don't want to hunt down trolls, but she want to have peace and quiet, and raised her hand up to ask her.

Female Tour Guide: Yes, Cady, what is it?

Cady Heron: I don't want to hunt the creatures, it's not safe for the trolls. The trolls' leader died after battle it's enemy, 20 years ago, before I was born, Dad is working with Gabby to protect the nature from harm. My grandfather dislike Talons Bounty Troll Hunters hunting trolls. The trolls are singing and dancing with the clan called Wildglade. A one of the trolls turned gray who hate singing and dancing. (The orphans are laughing and playing each other, by running in the museum's hall. The tour guide tell them to stop running.)

Children: Hi, Mrs. Gloria!

Gloria: Kids, please no running, okay, you guys know the rules.

Children: We're sorry, we'll walked slowly okay.

Little girl: The trolls are singing and dancing in the forest every day.

Gloria: Yes, Abby, Pastor Chunch want to protect the wildlife from the hunt.

Abby Schmidt: My friend, Travis and I are playing our instrument, but the trolls like to sing and dance.

Travis: I don't like mean people hunting trolls.

Little Girl: I don't want all the trolls died after the attack.

Little Boy: Me too!

The children are playing their instruments and they dancing with each others just like the trolls.

Arthur Slugworth walked into the museum with a horse and a cart with it. William Afton dislike music, like the trolls, he say.

Arthur Slugworth: Alright, children but you no better to play all the instruments, and it's will be recyclable! (horse neighing) Now go to take all the toys or we will clapped all of you in jail.

The hunters took their instruments away from the children and they recycling the instruments and they laughed evilly, the children are crying and wailing, they want them to do chores.

Victoria Kord: So, Regina, nice suit, today. The training is starting now!

Meanwhile, at the training room for teen hunters will train to hunt down trolls in the forest. They got their suits on their hunt for trolls.

Regina George: Gretchen, Karen, how's did you too get here?

Black teenage boy: (whispered) I don't know!

Polynesian teenage girl: The trolls' home?

Agent Rimes walked into the room.

Agent Rimes: Alright, rookies, listen here, there are rapids creatures, go cross to the woods, jump over the logs and kill and grab all the trolls by bringing them to the prison by poison all the lands, we'll be success our goals. Where's Cady?

Regina George: She's writing her diary again at the museum.

Agent Rimes: Remember focus on your skills, and don't get hurt! Good luck rookies.

The teens put their masks on and we walk into the field with their spyglasses and they looked at the trolls hisses, she used her dart gun and shot it, they ran towards to kill them. They held the guns and they ran fast into their marches. A black teenage boy and a Polynesian teenage girl are get hurt with the red X on their armors.

Karen Smith: Whoa, look at this. Haha!

Black teenage boy: Aw come on!

Polynesian teenage girl: Daiman, I hate hunting trolls so much!

The teens looked up at the trolls, they held their shields and they got to the trees with lot of trolls jumped out and tackled two of them.

Regina George: OH SON OF THE BITCH! (Use toxic chemicals gas and threw it against the trolls, and the tree got knocked down. Dante Reyes walked into the room and clapped his hands with an evil smile.)

Dante Reyes: Tonight, we'll hunt down creatures with our weapons to poison them.

Regina George: Yes, my lord, it's my turn to strings! My turn to hunt! (Pushed in the pushing bag)

The hunters walked out of the room in the darkness, back to the forest, in her bunker, Poppy drew the picture of her, her sister, her mother and her father before her sister's disappearance and her mother's death, she put it back in the box. That night, the teens walked into the woods, with their loaded poisonous dart guns and the butterfly nets are ready, the brothers continued staring at the clear, night sky with peaceful in Branch's heart. They stopped staring at the stars, something caught his eye. He see the hunters in the flashback as baby crying and seeing his father's sacrifice during the attack. End of the flashback, beyond his home, in the trees across the fields and below a mountain. The hunters putting their masks on, then they walked into the woods.

Branch: That's my land, hunters in our homeland.

John Dory: We got to check it out and fast.

Branch: We're going to check it out. See if they might provide danger to our clan.

Floyd: We're be fine.

Spruce: I'm agree with you guys (they grabs their weapons onto their backs, they swung down the the tree they were located on and landed safely on the ground. The brothers swiftly took off.

The bounty troll hunters loaded poisonous dart guns are ready, Dante Reyes walked in the tent. The bounty troll hunters smiled at the rookie with her new suit.

Dante Reyes: Tonight, we hunt down trolls! (Talons Bounty Troll Hunters cheer for his master plan)

Branch, John Dory, Spruce and Floyd continued to ran though the trees and across the valley and valley without having to stop. In order to improve their speed, they sometimes ran in all fours, a trait that their kind uses should they ever want to escape their foes. Unlike the other trolls,the brothers can ran longer distances, has a high stamina for it and many survival skills that were earned throughout the years. Now they're finally paying off. Finally, he reached the edge of the forest until he stopped shortly when they saw something embedded on the dirt. The dogs smell them as they see trolls while they barking at the brothers. They ran across the dogs barking and they were seen them running.

John Dory: (gasped and whispered) Dogs?

Branch: (gasped and whispered) Still fresh,

Spruce: (whispered) Guys, looks the hunters bring the dogs, they barking and stalking at us.

One of the dog: Woof!

Floyd: Who are they?

John Dory: (whispered) Hunters! That's man is their new leader and they want to hunt us down. Since Daddy sacrifice himself to save us all, 20 years since Clay's disappearance along with Viva back, we were kids.

Floyd: (whispered) It's not too late for you to leave. Forgot about us. Just be careful.

Ignacio Carapax: Hmmm! Oof! Oh what the? (One of the dogs barking) I knew, they across all of y'all in the forest. I'm going to the boss about the good news.

Branch: I told you, We'll return to the village. (The brothers looked up at the hunters and they gasped, Dante Reyes say)

Dante Reyes: Suprise, trolls!

Branch: No! It can't be! Listen to me! We must fight to the hunters. Gather Alder want everyone you know and run! GO!

Bounty Troll Hunters #6: We got them now!

Bounty Troll Hunters #9: Ha! Got him! (Branch whipped at the hunters' face)

Branch: Oh, you think so, huh? (hidden smirk, he has reached his end. As he dashed ahead, the hunters gasped when Branch and Floyd suddenly jumped and climbed on narrow edges on the vertical wall. The brothers stretching their hairs and grabbed onto a small rocky ledge of the wall. Waving a wave to the hunters, they swung forward like a slingshot.

The brothers: Yeah!

John Dory: See y'all next fall!

Dante Reyes: Don't ever do this! Regina!

Branch landed upright and hurried off to the exit.

Branch: (laughing, running as fast as he could. He dashed around a corner and ran up the rocky path. But just as they thought they were home free, Regina darted on his right upper shoulder, a rope was suddenly around his waist, trapping his arms, and was pulled to the bottom of the cliff.)

John Dory, Spruce and Floyd: Branch! (Branch groan, Arthur Slugworth and his partners Gerald Prodnose and Felix Fickelgruber used their butterfly nets and captured them as they scream in horror.)

Branch: What just happened? (shook his head and noticed the rope around him. They looked up to where the rope led by Regina.)

Floyd: Who is she?

The brothers looked up at her, a spotlight shined on fully as Branch see poison on his upper shoulder and he shivering with fear.

Branch: AH! No! You're poisoned me!

Spruce: O O Oh, how's could you!

Arthur Slugworth put John Dory, Spruce and Floyd in the bag and tie it up.

John Dory: I It's is... (Arthur Slugworth evil laugh)

John Dory, Spruce and Floyd: NO, NO, NO, NO! D'OH!

Spruce: (mumbled) NO!

Dante Reyes: (evil smile, the hunters holding the rope.) Though you trolls got away, didn't you, trolls?

Branch: (gasped, in the vision, Hernan Reyes' evil laugh, Thorn fight against him. Baby Branch crying and wailing for his father's sacrifice during the attack and the fires. End of the vision, he shivering with his eyes.) Big mistake, ugly! (growled and charged at him. But then another rope to grab his right foot, snared his hair, pulled him back painfully. Ahh!

Branch struggled to escape, managing to pull his arm free, but unfortunately, the hunters threw one more rope which bounded his wrists together.

Branch: Let's us go! (panting, that's he lost his father to the hunters.)

Poppy arrived on the table and see the hunters, they looked at her.

Arthur Slugworth: What was that thing? It's looked like gray but it looking dark. How's it got up here?

Poppy jumped up to try tackled him, Regina used her net to captured her and then he put her in the bag. The hunters tried pulling Branch up, despite his struggles.

Poppy: (mumbled) Hey, watch it!

Dante Reyes: (whipped his horse, with the jeep, the horse neighing) To the village!

He and the hunters walked to jeep while dragging them and straight back to the village. At the Village's museum, Clay and Viva has to escape from prison. Clay is taller and slender, his hair became messy lime green hair and he wear a green one suit romper with a diamond. Viva is slightly taller, her hair is curly, with one lock of her hair resting down on the right side of her face and pink yellow sparkling makeup. She wears a white leotard with golden colored trim and a pink star with golden trim on the the chest. She has red leg warmers with pink lozenges on them.

Clay: (gasped and held his pictures of his mother Ivy, his father Thorn who sacrifice himself to save them, because of his disappearance along with Viva, his grandmother and his brothers.) Mom, Grandma, John Dory, Spruce, Floyd, Branch!

The call of his brothers' help, his mother asked him to come home. He regains his memories, reminiscing those of his brothers, family, friends and himself. He fears of forgetting everything and knowing that losing his brothers.

Clay: I...AM CLAY, SON OF THORN AND IVY AND THE HEIR OF GLADE CLAN! I AM THE MIDDLE BROTHERS OF JOHN DORY, SPRUCE, FLOYD AND BRANCH! I must to save them from the hunters' threats! (running out of the museum, fast as he can to save his brothers.) I'm coming brothers! Help is on the way! I have to go now! That's is my greatest fear. Losing my brothers. I have to save my brothers! He had a big amount of guilt as he blame himself for leaving the forest, since his father's sacrifice during the attack and the fires in the woods. He ran into the church, with a plan and Viva's help to save his brothers.

Can Clay regain his memories and reunite with his brothers on the next chapter.

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 6

Art... and more! gird your loins, people! hold onto thy merkins! if i can pull it off, this should hopefully be the last fluff chapter before shit gets kicked to high gear. ao3! ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

My Head Is An Animal

Johnny’s career is rapidly expanding.

The art fair had helped make Johnny excited about making art again. That, combined with the compliments you had so freely given to him yesterday and a new round of about twenty orders has him ecstatic about maintaining his storefront.

Enough time has elapsed that the first person who made the first order Johnny ever shipped had written a review- perhaps making it fancier than it needed to be when they saw how barren Johnny’s Etsy page was, but that didn’t exactly matter. Not when they had raved about how you could feel emotions behind every pen stroke! Or how they went and bought a frame for the small piece of paper! Or how it was probably hung in the reviewer’s art gallery!

It was nearly enough to make Johnny print the review out and paste it on a wall somewhere if he was being honest.

The Etsy soon turns into a TikTok page he pesters Simon into helping him set up once the storefront has gained enough traction to warrant it.

Things happen, and somehow the TikTok account gains half a million followers. Somehow, someway, Johnny finds himself in a community within Tiktok. It happens suddenly with duets and slideshows(Simon thinks, at least). Still, Johnny is soon reporting back about online friends, art trades, and after a while, being invited to local art fairs after being sniffed out by organizers, even.

Johnny is very much excited. He’s getting busier and busier, and though Simon doesn’t enjoy his time away from home, it is good for both of them, he thinks. Something to focus on. And brings back a decent amount of money, too.

You’re obviously invited to the art fairs Johnny gets stalls at. Johnny’s always over the moon to see you and sneaks free trinkets- like a bookmark or postcard- into your bag when he’s sure you’re not looking. Of course, this earns him a stern talking to when you notice, but your worries are easily quarried by puppy eyes and matching pout; “but Ae wanted to give you sa’thing, bon?”, he’s said before, and it doesn’t take very long for your resolve to crumble again. Sure, you could have argued that you could have bought it yourself, but you know that would only be matched with an offended glare from Johnny.

Truth be told, Johnny’s becoming really rather fond of you. Simon as well- such as when you had come to the third art fair Johnny showed at and had gotten lost after leaving Johnny’s booth. You’d gotten turned around a lot and were just about to ask someone when Simon caught your shoulder. He had called you a few times and when you didn’t answer, he went to find you. He corrals you back with the gentleness a shepherd must have with a lamb.

You’re starting to notice that Johnny has really started to take off. He’s gone to café’s and art podcasts and presentations at colleges and now cons and he has even been invited onto live stream with other art content creators on TikTok that he can now solidly call his friends. He gets along with them well and is even able to make meaningful friendships. For example, he meets a man who makes beautiful knitted mixed media work named Sammy who’s nothing short of a sweetheart to Johnny, talking to him via DMS and supplying him with inspiration when he gets stuck in a mood. Sammy is there, talking to him in his silly American accent and showing him the new knitted beanie he made out of recycled plastic bags for his 60-pound Maine Coon cat.

Then there’s Gloria, a cross stitcher. She’s well into her years, with her TikTok account being run by her great-grandson who kept her young with his quips and jokes. She quickly establishes herself by cursing like a sailor when her grandson jokingly insults her works from over the years. She also makes quite a few phallic pieces which, to no one’s surprise, the grandson rather likes. She’s so charming to Johnny because she sort of feels like his grandmammy.

Gloria reassures and encourages Johnny about his artwork over calls, which her great-grandson sets up and orchestrates because there's no way Gloria’s little arthritis-stricken claws would be able to navigate modern technology.

Simon likes his new online friends, too. Simon has become a staple in Johnny’s fanbase’s culture and his livestreams, oftentimes poking in to say hi or leave a coffee while Johnny draws on stream. He becomes prominent; it's easy to say that his fanbase adores the two of them especially when they get to hear their backstory, learning about how they met. It's enough to make him even more endearing to the public eye.

Life’s going awesome for him. He’s been going to art fairs in the area every other week, and even though fall is rapidly approaching, he's never been in better spirits. The cool weather usually means Johnny stops making art for a while because the warm weather helps keep him springy and stops his bad elbow joints from aching terribly. Now, he feels more than willing to tough it out.

Life just gets better when a rather large creator on the platform, someone named Jessica Johnson, invites him to an ‘ArtTok Conference’ about 50 miles away from Johnny and Simon’s flat in Manchester, so they plan to pack themselves up for the week with the dog. The venue itself is beautiful, all natural light, sleek marble and wood, and Johnny’s there to talk on a few panels to fans and do some live art as an installation; he’s going to be paid for his work, to just sit down in the gardens of the venue with Riley and do his art stuff while people walk around and observe and enjoy his art. He’d do it for free, honestly.

After he accepts the offer, he starts packing after he tells you, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him. His cheeks are glowing and his smile lines have just become more defined as he's grown with his online career. When he announces that he’ll be at the con later that month, his Etsy shop completely sells out.

When the conference starts, Simon is attentive, caring and comforting. When Johnny gets ready for the first panel, Simon helps him steam the shirt he's gonna wear on the panel. When Johnny is signing prints at an M&G and his pen suddenly craps out, Simon’s there with an extra. When Johnny does his first day of sitting in the gardens and drawing, Simon stays with him, just standing there until one of the staff members brings him a chair. At the end of the first day, when Johnny face plants into the hotel room’s bed, Simon is quick to work out the knots from Johnny’s back. 

Johnny, if he’s being honest, is still a little sad that you weren’t able to make it, what with it being held in the middle of the work week and being an hour’s drive. You’re apologetic, of course, but he knows better than to be hurt terribly.  He feels better when you leave comments on all of the clips that he posts on his TikTok, and you still text whenever you can. He’s happy to be at the con and he’s thoroughly enjoying it, too. Simon’s like his own support system, leaving the conference building for coffee and bagels, and during the con, he’s like his own attraction at Johnny’s stall. People who don’t know Johnny are allured over by the six-foot-something man with the happiest-looking service dog ever and usually end up buying one of the many prints of Riley Johnny has done before.

Later in the week, he gets a panel all to himself where he talks about his charcoal art and how he made his style. Surprisingly, there’s a large turnout. He thought that nobody would want to listen to him ramble about the art he’s been making since high school or, even less, talk to him about his art. After the panel and a lengthy M&G, he starts planning when he’s going to release more things on his Etsy shop, just from how many of his prints he signed in less than three hours. In the time he has between panels and his live art installation, he finds himself doing thumbnails, just as an outlet for all the excess creative energy he has. It’s so fulfilling to see something he’s only ever seen something as a hobby grow into a whole community of his own, grow into a career and a plausible one at that.

Still, like all good things, the con comes to an end. He finishes the live art installation and then he and Simon say their goodbyes before making their way back home. Back to you.

In the space between, everything moves on in a peaceful sort of bliss. He’s restocking the Etsy regularly now, because of how much demand has ramped up. The art fairs are slowing as the cool weather sets in and he goes to his last one right as you get some free time, so it’s perfect timing for a little catch-up outing.

You get dinner at the art fair together, eating traditionally made pasta dyed colourful colours by plants while Johnny tells you everything about his time at the con. It just makes you sad that you missed it, just from how *happy* he sounds from the… Well, everything. He shows you pictures with fans and the highlight reels said fans made of his panels and endearing videos littered over his TikTok feed. You’re fully caught up in no time.

You’ve just finished dinner when Johnny gets the invitation. Johnny looks down at his phone while both you and Simon are engaged in conversation while he stares down at his screen. Then he gasps; loud and cartoonish.

“Ae- Ae go’ invited to a residency! In a gallery! Holy *hells*-“ he says, before a long and very animated string of curses as he finishes the email.

“Residency?” Simon asks.

“Gallery?” You ask.

“Yes!” Johnny says. “Oh, bleedin’ Mary. Look!” He says before he shoves his phone screen in your face, before passing it to Simon.

And, for the first time ever, you hear Simon laugh. It’s husky, like a smoker’s, but it’s endearing in a way. He wraps his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and kisses his temples.

“Yeah, I think this counts for another.” He says, flagging down the waiters for another round of drinks.

<- back next ->

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Disclaimer: This post is an interpretation of some of the Barbie movie's themes and messages, particularly struggles men are faced with. That's its focus. It is not exhaustive of all possible takes or understandings of the film, either mine or others. If talking about men as equal human beings is a problem for you, feel free to ignore this post and then block me. Otherwise, carry on.

One of my favorite parts of Barbie is when Gloria is doing Barbie's makeup toward the end and they're talking about overturning everything that the Kens have done to Barbieland, where Barbie expresses how she just didn't expect her Ken to act out so drastically. Gloria tells her it's because he has feelings for her, hinting that creating Kendom is how he tried to express those feelings and his upset with the constant rejection he's gotten. And when Barbie starts to say she's afraid of hurting him by going behind his back Gloria stops her.

I could praise that moment alone for showing how women need to stop apologizing for the feelings of others, but this is really key: Gloria doesn't trash talk Ken. She states the bad things he did but she never equates those actions with who Ken is, because they're not. I feel like any other film would've gone the route of "He's an asshole/You don't need him/Dump the douchebag/Why do you care about him when he's treated you like this?" (and to be fair I have a huge tendency to go that way myself)

Gloria doesn't even know Ken! But she was right not to immediately act like he was garbage. I don't know if she got that understanding from Barbie herself or just from being a long-term Barbie doll lover and employee at Mattel, but it stands out to me. We even see proof that none of the Kens are truly bad! In the beginning of the film they're just dudes (Just Kens, lol, I set myself up for that)! Dudes that don't even know what they don't know and can't be blamed for it.

Because the truth is that men are not inherently trash and their actions do not come from an innately evil place. Unfortunately for men, especially in the west, society has come up short in teaching them how to deal with and properly express how they feel in favor of power and saving face. Emotions hold bigger weight than they even know, but the modes they've been allowed are generally aggression, romantic passion, and cool. Nothing outside the lines. Imagine trying to sort a giant ball of complex emotions into one of those three things and stay normal.

Gloria understands that the lack of emotional maturity and regulation is where Ken's dramatic tantrum stems from. While she has experience with the patriarchy and knows how to deal with it because of the situation in the real world, I find it fascinating that her character is the one to understand both sides because she also has experience as a matriarch. (I could be wrong, but it seems like she's the breadwinner of the household. The role of her husband I have no commentary on other than que Dios lo bendice, el pobre no se puede hablar español).

So while Barbieland agrees to barely give the Kens back any power (an extremely accurate reflection of what women get in the real world), the film and its characters ultimately don't villainize or punish them further for their wrongs. Punishment isn't always the right action when someone is wrong (insert commentary on Barbie and Ken constantly getting put in jail in the real world vs. no such thing happening in their own). Sometimes it's simply helping them understand what they're dealing with and guiding them through the ordeal step by step.

Painting the Kens as all bad would've ignored what a Ken is. He is a doll just like Barbie. Ken's issue is that he's unloved and the only form of love he has been given to accept is romantic love. What he and all the other Kens begin to discover at the end of the film is self love, which is just as important, if not more.

Now I'm going to rephrase that last paragraph.

Painting men as all bad ignores what a man is. They are humans just like women are. Most men's issue is that they are unloved and the only form of love they've been given to accept is romantic love. What the men of this world need to discover is self love, which is just as important, if not more.

[ficreadergirl]

Welcome to my Sweetheart

Ep19

Next morning you woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of soft music playing in the background. You stretched lazily feeling amazing. The memory of last night came flooding back and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You sat up and looked around realising you were in your own bed. Dick must have brought you home and tucked you in last night. You quickly got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom for taking a quick shower before heading to the kitchen to see if there was any coffee left.

As you stepped into the kitchen, Helena was already there, making breakfast. She glanced at you over her shoulder and smiled. "Good morning sleepyhead. Sleep well?"

"Yes I did sleep well." you replied with cautious smile.

"After that much workout you must have needed it." she winked and placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of you. "Here, drink this. It will help you wake up."

Her comments about last night's activities made you feel even more flushed. You took a sip of the coffee and let out a contented sigh. It was delicious. "Thanks Helena. It's so delicious."

"I'm glad you like it." she smiled warmly. "Dick mentioned that you had a bit of a rough time yesterday."

"Well..." you hesitated for a moment. "It was definitely intense but I managed to pull through with his help." you tried not to blush too much as you said this.

"Glad to hear that." she said with a knowing smile. "Now go get dressed. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."

You nodded and headed back to your room to get dressed. When you were finally dressed, you made your way back to the kitchen to find Helena setting the table. The smell of eggs and bacon filled the air and your stomach growled in anticipation.

"It's almost ready." she said as she placed the food on the table. "Eat up. You'll need your energy for today."

"Did you make one for Gloria?"

"Of course. I've put some extra water in her bowl as well." she pointed at a small bowl on the floor.

You sat down at the table and started eating and savouring every bite. The food was delicious and you felt energized. After finishing your meal you thanked Helena profusely and cleared the table and left for work.

In office you found Dick already at his desk looking over some documents. "Good morning." he said without looking up. "Sleep well?"

"Yes.." you said a bit hesitantly. "I did."

"Good." he nodded. "Let's get started then."

You were a bit nervous around him now. The memory of last night was still fresh in your mind. You wondered if he was thinking about it too. You tried to focus on your work but found yourself constantly glancing at him, wondering what he was thinking, feeling. It was almost as if there was a new layer of tension in the air between you.

"Y/n. Did you see this?" he asked handing you a report. "Pierce has been making some shady deals again. We'll have to look into it."

"Again? Seriously? Can't we focus on the shooting?" you sighed frustrated.

"Why are you so obsessed with protecting him?" he asked his voice laced with annoyance.

"I'm not protecting him Dick. I'm saying our priority is to find the shooter."

"He probably has something to do with it." he said sharply. "We can't just ignore that possibility."

"Why would he--"

"To get closer to you Y/n." he interrupted coldly. "That's why."

"No Dick..." you began but then stopped. You knew he was right. You knew Barry Pierce's interest in you had nothing to do with your work. You were about to say something else when your phone rang. You saw it was Pierce. Dick raised an eyebrow at you. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Yes." you admitted reluctantly.

Dick sighed. "You should take it. It might be important."

"Okay then." you said taking the call. "Hello?"

"Y/n it's me." Barry said urgently. "I need to meet you. It's important."

Dick listened in silently as you spoke to Pierce. "What happened?" you asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes... I mean no... I mean..." he stammered. "Just meet me. At my club. As soon as possible."

You glanced at Dick who was watching you carefully. "Fine. We'll be there." you said ending the call.

Other eps

[ghost-orca]

Channeling Your Love; Chapter 1

Mind you, this is video game Joel, everything that happens in this story means the pandemic started in 2013 so all the songs are "canon" until after September of 2013, IM SORRY PEDRO PASCAL FANS!!!

Description; You're a music radio show host for Jackson with a hidden past in the apocalypse. What more can I say?

Warnings: Future smut, for now its just meet cute fluff; PTSD for future chapters: it gets real dark guys, this is my first time writing Fanfic so bare with me....

“Alriiight Jackson, it's time to rise and shine! How about we start our day with some positive energy and a good old classic, Conga by Gloria Estefan!” The music playing loudly through the living room, Joel was immediately irritated. “Christ” he mumbled

“Ellie! Turn the radio off!”

“Why?” she yelled back 

“I hate this song, it's too damn loud.” He replied

“Then leave! I'm having fun!”

“Ellie, plea-” 

“Nope! Get grumpy somewhere else, old man.”

Joel sits for a minute, shaking his head “I have had enough of this” he decides, picking up his jacket making his way to the door.

“Where are you going? I was just joking when I said to leave and the song is almost over y’know!” Ellie yells out shaking her body along with the music

“I’m going to that damn radio station, gonna tell them how I feel about their early morning music choices and hopefully change their mind”

Ellie scoffed “good luck ruining everyone's fun dinosaur.” continuing to dance along to the music

Joel scoffed back at her and exited their shared home

After a five minute long uphill walk, Joel spots the radio station Tommy had told him about, stomping upwards to have a word with the radio show host. He knocked loudly on the front door before entering, trying to appear polite at least to have the upper hand, but after a minute of no answer he decided to let himself in, walking up a narrow staircase, following the sound of music, not caring what song was playing even if it was something he liked 

“You can ring my beeellllllll” Was heard reverberating through the walls walking up, finally entering the studio apartment that connected to the radio station room with a glass wall to suppress noise from the outside world. The first thing he sees is you, shaking your hips and ass along to the song, eyes closed never noticing him there. Looking at you he recognized seeing you around town, thinking you were surprisingly fit for someone who doesn't go on patrols, realizing why you were as he watched you. He couldn't help but focus his attention on your ass, the way your hips moved along with the rhythm. 

“Shit” he mumbled to himself, lost in thought looking at you as you swayed by yourself, like no one was watching. 

You open your eyes for a moment noticing the man standing in your studio apartment, immediately freezing in your tracks. “How long has he been standing there?” you thought to yourself, chest heaving, making unbroken eye contact with your stranger. Oh god, he's handsome too you thought, cheeks reddening. 

Joel sees you see him, witnessing you completely stop what you were doing, and gulps.

“Keep going.” He says, feeling rude for interrupting you, but mostly embarrassed, thinking you’d caught him in the act of leering

“W-what?” You respond, having trouble hearing through the glass panel separating the two of you and loud music, gesturing to the glass and record player so he could understand.

Joel understood, and got all the more embarrassed, huffing towards the ground to gain some courage 

“Keep dancing.” He says louder now, and does an awkward little shimmy before pointing to you to make his message more clear. His cheeks start growing red from further embarrassment. “The hell did I do that for?” he questioned himself quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You understand him, but the song was almost over at this point, and it's your cue to go back to the live recorder and continue onto the next song. You jolt over to the mic as the final note fades out “Well, ha, that was Ring My Bell from the one hit wonder, Anita Ward everybody! I hope you guys had fun with that one!” You say into the mic, hiding exasperation in your voice. “Up next is-” You look down at your handwritten list of songs scheduled for the day “Last Night by The Strokes!” you announce with fake excitement. You didn't hate the song, but you had just heard it too many times before. Still, it was important for the future to hear as much music as possible as you thought.

Joel is still watching you at this point, impressed by how quick you can turn your heel. You exit the room, into your own studio apartment, facing the man before you, straightening your back and raising your head to meet his hazel green eyes. “Can I help you with something sir?”

“Uh yeah, I um…” Joel felt completely lost, he came here to complain, take out his anger on you, maybe even teach you a thing or two about ‘the real world’, but all those thoughts he had racing up the hill to confront you had muddled after actually seeing you. He didn't know what to say.

“Ash?” you both hear from downstairs, you sighed in relief, recognizing the voice “What's up Eugene?” you yelled down, starting to feel wary of this strange quiet man in your presence. 

“Was just checking if you were okay, I saw the door was open so,” 

“That's my fault, sorry” Joel yelled down in admission, recognizing Eugene's voice as well, Tommy had introduced the two and grew to respect the old man on patrols with him. 

Hearing footsteps up the stairs Eugene enters the room, “Oh hey Joel, didn't know you were a fan of Ash’s station” 

“Um, no I'm not, I mean…” Joel pauses, trying to find the right words, “So your name is Ash?” he dodges the question retorting back to you 

“No” you respond bluntly “Only Eugene calls me that.”

Eugene looks between the two of you, feeling the uncomfortable energy in the air. 

“What do I call you then?” Joel asks, slight frustration he can't control in his voice, trying to stay civil.

“Call me whatever you want, host, radio person, I don't really care” You responded honestly, sensing his frustration, feeling like pushing his buttons. “Why are you here, Joel?” 

“Well” he starts “If I’m being honest, I find your music to be obnoxious.”

“It's not ‘my music’, Joel, it's just music, and if you don't like it you can just turn off the radio or cover your ears if your missus appreciates it more than you do.” You have a smug grin on your face, knowing you have the upper hand “Besides” You start  “No one else in Jackson has complained to my face about what I decide to play, the first exception being you.” You cross your arms. 

Before Joel can say anything, Eugene interrupts “Alright you two, how about I let you just sort this out amongst yourselves. Ash, if you need anything, just gimme a holler. Joel.” he looks at Joel giving him a respectful nod, getting out of there before he can get involved “Thanks Eugene, sorry to worry you.” You wave him goodbye as he books it downstairs out the front door waving back. You're left alone standing with your new ‘acquaintance’ feeling ready for whatever he might throw at you. Joel sighs. “Alright look, first of all I don’t gotta ‘missus’ like you call it, just a very annoying 14 year old who does whatever the hell she wants if it can’t be helped. So you can imagine the strain of dealing with that alone every morning, and then I have to hear the damn Conga song at 9 in the morning trying to enjoy my coffee in peace because it's the only point in the day I can get some time to myself. So forgive me if my much wanted peace and quiet interrupts whatever you have going on here.” You stare at Joel, appreciating his honesty 

“What's her name?” you ask. He looks at you in surprise for a second, breaking his avoidance towards you.

“Ellie, uh, her name’s Ellie” He responds

“Pretty” you say, fully taking her name in to get an image of her in your mind. “Why don’t you send her up here sometime so I can take her off your hands in the morning? I’ve been meaning to find a young apprentice who's passionate about helping me with the work I do around here. If she’s got a lot of energy I think this would be perfect for her.” 

Joel’s still holding eye contact as you see his eyes widening, taking in the idea. “You don-You don't have to do that really. I love the kid to death but- she can be a real handful honestly.” Joel’s embarrassed at this point, surprised at your compassion to help. 

“She sounds like a great kid” you confess, “I can promise you with the work I do she’ll be tuckered out by the time she comes home to you. Plus, with my schedule she’ll be too busy to bother you in the mornings, so you can start enjoying your coffee in peace.” 

Joel thinks on it, starting to consider the pros and cons of the idea. “I’ll have to ask her if she’d even want to first.” he replies, it would be nice if she had something productive to keep herself busy he thinks to himself.

“That’s alright, if she wants to she can just stop by whenever she likes. Today even, I’d be happy to start showing her the ropes, whenever she’s ready.” You smile at him, realizing you might’ve just solved the problem between you two, wanting to start things off civilly with this gruff but shy handsome man you were meeting for the first time. “Okay” He agrees, scratching his beard after making his decision. “Great!” You respond “Tell her she can stop by anytime after 9 am and before 9 pm. I’m excited to meet her!” 

Joel chuckles, “You don't even know if she’s gonna say yes to this whole thing. Don't get too excited.” he explains.

“Well, based on your description of her, and the fact that she’s 14, I’m guessing she’s feeling pretty bored without much to do around Jackson. Besides helping the community, I'm sure she’d be excited at the idea of a creative outlet.” You say in confidence, smile almost giddy remembering how you felt around the same age. “You got a point there.” he responds, smiling back, blushing at the thought of how cute you look when you're excited.“I’m uh, I’m glad we could talk this out. I’ll go and see her right now.” he starts making his way down the stairs to the doorway. 

“Hey Joel!” You speak out, stopping him in his tracks to look up at you, “Don’t be a stranger, stop by sometime to tell me what music I should play for your morning coffee. Or any music, really.” Joel starts to blush again, surprised by you reaching out to him for company. 

“I’ll think about it.” he says, knowing he will come back again just to see you dance again when he works up the courage. He waves you goodbye. “Nice meeting you!” You reply “Yeah, You too.” looking up at your pretty little face one more time before leaving. Making his way straight to Ellie to tell her the news.

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Sweet Like Candy (Yandere! Graves x Female Reader fic.) (Chapter Two)

Authors Notes- Here I m back again with yet another chapter to Sweet Like Candy. Sorry it's been a hot minute. Work as left me drained. But here I am back again. And as you should know I like to mention any trigger warnings in my authors notes. So this chapter will feature stalking, more obsessive behavior. If none of this is your cuppa tea then this is where we part way but I'll remember our time fondly. Now that we got that out of the way here is Chapter two. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two.

"Hey, Y/N. You got plans tonight?" Your friend, Gloria spoke. Jerking you from your thoughts as you worked on getting your customer the non-fat latte she asked for.

"Well..." You chewed on the inside of your cheek, racking your brain for anything you needed to do when you got off work. Aside from homework there was nothing you could really think of. "Aside from homework not really, why?"

Gloria turned away from the sink grabbing a piece of paper towel to dry her hands off with. "Well, you've been on edge for the last week or so since you moved into your apartment so I figured since me and the others are going for drinks tonight I'd invite you. You look like you can use a couple."

Gloria had a point. It had been weeks since you first started feeling like you were being watched at your home, and thankfully that feeling seemed to go away once you bought some curtains for your windows. Which helped you a lot. And you thought that would be the end of it. But lately it seemed like now there were times you were being watched outside of your apartment. You constantly told yourself that you were being paranoid, but that only did so much. Could someone be watching you? And why?

"Y/N?" Gloria called out, jerking your from your thoughts, an eyebrow arched as she waited for your answer. Perhaps a night out with friends would help you relax.

"Sure," you said, with a shrug of your shoulder, as you handed your customer her drink. "I could use a break."

Gloria smiled before turning to address the next customer. While you looked around the store, seeing that things were rather slow, looking to Gloria once more before telling her that you were taking your break. Gloria nodded before you took off your apron and headed for the backroom. Heading to your locker you pulled out your text book and water bottle before plopping down into one of the chairs.

Heaving a sigh you opened you textbook and tried your best to focus on the stuff before you. You had a test coming up in a few days and you really needed to focus...Easier said than done as your phone chimed catching your attention. Looking to where your phone sat you picked it up. Seeing that it was a text from Gloria.

It Read: "Hey girl, that hot older guy is back."

As you read that you feel your cheeks flush. Knowing that the hot older guy she was referring to was the older man who seemed to constantly come here, and while you told yourself countless times that he was only here for the coffee, and to have a quiet place to read through his files in peace. But there was a little sliver of hope forming in your chest whenever he stepped through the doors that he came to see you. You knew it was silly you knew there was no way a guy like him would ever being interested in you.

Getting up from your seat you peeked out the door. Your heart fluttering as you saw the man walk up the counter. Your cheeks heating up as he did so, you watched as he looked around the small cafe, blue eyes obscured by sunglasses only a few a moment before he took them off and tucked them into his shirt pocket, as he ordered his usual a black coffee with two sugars. Typical as you watched him take his usual seat you wondered if he ever ordered any thing else? How could he stomach that stuff? You grimaced Gloria often brewed the coffee in the mornings or whenever she could, and her coffee tended to be rather strong.

Strong enough to keep you and anyone else wired for days, perhaps that was why the man, whose name you never got, not because you didn't care it was just that whenever he came into the cafe you turned into a shy giggling school girl who would blush and giggle every time he spoke. Or when he smiled at you and called you such names such as Sugar, Honey, and Darlin' Sure, if it was anyone else you would have rolled your eyes and offered the faintest of smiles as you worked on their orders but he seemed... Oh, you couldn't put your finger on it but he was just so...hot!

Your phone pinged again. Ducking back into the breakroom you looked down at your phone. Another text from Gloria, how she could test and work without anyone knowing what she was doing was beyond you.

"Would you quit lurking in the shadows?" It read. "It's creepy. Also your break is over and the next wave of hipsters is coming in."

You sighed. Breaks never lasted long. And you hadn't gotten any studying done. Giving your head a shake you placed your belongings back in your locker before heading back out. And was greeted by the stranger. His eyes immediately fixing on you, a bright smile on his handsome face. You heart fluttering again before you turned you attention to the never-ending line of hipsters and busy business men alike. All the while the mans eyes never left yours as he sipped his coffee.

***

There you were! Graves felt his heart skip a beat as you stepped out of what he could only guess was the breakroom a bright smile on your beautiful face. Good. He had hoped he would have a chance to see you as he sipped coffee and tried to looked scanning through various files. And sure, he really should be working but like every other time he had come here he found his eyes glued on you. Watching as you dealt with customers with a bright smile and a warm greeting before telling them to have a wonderful as you handed them their drinks.

Or that was how it was before some shmuck barged in front of everyone else, ignoring the protests of other patrons as he slammed his drink down, anger etched on his face as he glared at you. Files forgotten as he watched as his asshole berate you on how you had messed u[p his drink. How, apparently you had added milk to his drink, how he was lactose intolerant, and how you were clear to stupid to do your job properly. And there you were trying you very best to placate him, to offer him a free drink for your mistake.

Though that didn't seem to help as the man continued to shout and swear at you. Graves rolled his eyes, placing his coffee and his files down as he got to his feet. Was a messed up drink really worth all of this bullshit?! He just couldn't understand people as he moved to confront the man. Only to stop and watch as you slammed both hands down on the counter, gone was the warm smile and instead you glared at the man with narrowed eyes.

Graves watched in awe as you ripped this guy a new one, a smile forming on his lips as he watched him limp away with his tail between his legs as you heaved a sigh. Shoulders slump, a wave of pity washing through Graves as you moved away from the counter, pity soon turned to anger. You shouldn't have to deal with that, with people who think that they had a right to treat to like that? And if it wasn't assholes who treated you like dogshit it was the creeps. Assholes who thought that just because your job required you to be nice most of the time that it gave them the right to be creeps.

You deserved better. Better than this. Sure, he liked this cute little cafe you worked. But he knew you no doubt made peanuts, barely enough to make rent and keep yourself fed as well. He would know. When he followed you to the little grocery store where you shopped frequently, saw you pass on some of the things you wanted and needed. No doubt trying to budget, you shouldn't have to to that, you shouldn't have to worry about making your rent, or school payments, or being able to feed yourself, or clothe yourself. How Graves wanted to take all those worries from you and he spent all his time watching you, following you, obsessing over you. Watching as you went about your day.

Did you even know he was there? Do you ever catch him watching you? What would you think if he did? Would you think him creepy? Would you still smile at him the way you did if you knew how often he watched you? God, Graves shook his head as he sat back down, files and coffee long forgotten as he gathered up his belongings. He didn't know when things between you two had changed but Graves found himself growing more and more obsessed with you. And if he was being honest? He couldn't bring himself to care. Graves knew it wouldn't, couldn't stop even if he tried. And if he was being honest? He was certain the only way he was going to stop was when you were his.

***

Today. Was. Insane. You huffed a tired sigh as you plopped down in a chair as your shift came to an end. Exhaustion gripped you as you left your head fall back, eyes falling closed. Today had been never-ending one customer after another until closing time.

"You okay?" Gloria asked.

Yawning you nodded.

"You still up for drinks?" Gloria asked.

"Yeah, after today I really could use a drink." You told her, as you reluctantly got up and moved to your locker, gathering your things. "I just need to stop at home, need to get out of these clothes." You told her.

"Want me to give you a ride?" Gloria asked. "The bar we're going to is past your apartment anyways."

Nodding you gather your stuff and follow Gloria out of the breakroom, and out of the cafe, turning off the lights as you did so before making sure the door was locked as well. Before heading towards Gloria's car, casting a look over your shoulder, eyes scanning the darkened parking lot. What were you looking for? Giving your head a shake you shoved that thought from your head and got into the car, stifling another yawn as Gloria pulled out of the parking lot. A drink or ever several would certainly help.

***

Now where were you going? Graves thought, as he sat in his truck in his usual spot outside your apartment as you stepped out of a car. Was it the car of your coworker? Graves arched an eyebrow as he watched you disappear into your apartment, and while he had been upset when you had purchased some curtains, obscuring you from view he had found away past that. Hence why he was lurking outside your apartment he had the perfect thing to help him keep and eye on you. Something far better than lurking outside your apartment hoping to catch a glimpse of you in your apartment, oblivious to him as you would pace around your apartment in your fluffy pink towel wrapped around yourself.

Graves chuckled as he peered up at your window, catching a glimpse of your silhouette as you moved around your apartment. Were you and your friend going out? If that was the case then this was perfect timing on his part. Watching as you stepped out of your apartment wearing a black dress that to him seemed just a tad too short for someone like you, along with the heels that seemed a little too thin. Just where were you two going? And were you wearing make up?! Graves' eyes narrowed as he looked you over. And as he did he felt anger stirring in his belly. Where did you think you were going?

Graves growled, his grip tightening on his steering wheel as you climbed into your friends car, watching as the car pulled away. Wasting no time he climbed out of his car and headed towards your apartment. Looking over his shoulder he disappeared into the building, and headed to your room and made quick work on the lock before stepping into your apartment. And the moment he did he instantly fell his anger dissipate as his scanned your apartment.

Noting the plain white walls, and the pale pink curtains hanging in your windows. To the pictures hanging on the walls of you and your friends and family. Some of them featuring you with a small Boston terrier dog hugged tightly to your chest, a wide, loving smile on your face. Graves heart fluttered as he continued to look at them, his smile faltering as he saw more pictures of that same dog, though this one seemed to be a memorial to said dog. Shame. You seemed to really love the little pooch. Continuing to look at the pictures he saw one he liked one of you in nothing but a bikini smiling at whoever was taking the picture. You didn't have a boyfriend, did you? If not well Graves couldn't have that he if that was the case he would do everything to make them disappear for good. Biting down on his bottom lip he slipped the picture from the frame and tucked it into his pocket for his viewing pleasure later.

Turning away from the pictures he continued to look around your apartment. Taking in the worn couch you obviously bought second hand at some place, to the small TV leaning against the wall, to the shelves of various sizes leaning against the wall next to the couch, filled with both textbooks for your classes and...oh my... Graves smirked as he pulled one of the smutty romance novels from the closest shelf. Obviously you liked the steamy stuff. Graves flipped through the dog-eared pages, before placing it back on the shelf. He was wasting time he had come here for a purpose, but he couldn't help but be charmed by your little hovel of an apartment.

It was you. But he could give you more. He could give you the world if you wanted. Sure, you didn't know he existed aside from his constant visits to the cafe you worked at. You would one day, one day you would be his. Nodding to himself he stepped into your bedroom, and smiled as he looked around the small room, seeing the bed with light pink covers and pillows. Obviously pink was your favorite color if he had to guess simply by seeing your curtains, bedding, towel that lay discarded on your floor by your bed. And....oh hello it would seem it wasn't the only thing you own that was pink, as sitting on the nightstand by your bed lay a cute pink vibrator.

Looks like you didn't have anyone to take care of your needs, good it would mean when you were finally his he would be able to take care of you. But he was getting out of hand, he was here for a purpose and while he knew you would probably be out for a while be knew he shouldn't stay longer than need be. Placing the bag he had brought with him he pulled out a small, nearly invisible camera, one of several he had purchased when he had planned this. Biting down on his bottom lip he placed it on the wall where he knew he would be able to see everything you did in your bedroom. Once he was satisfied with where he placed that one he moved back to your living room, placing a camera in there before finally moving to your bathroom, flipping on the light he looked around it, before placing a camera in your shower.

Satisfied with his work Graves moved towards your front door, but stopped...He wasn't ready to leave, at least not yet, not without a little souvenir. Moving to your bedroom once more he looked to where your clothes hamper was, opening it he dug into the pile of dirty laundry until he pulled out a pair of lace panties in a powder blue. Quickly stuffing them into his back pocket he headed for your door, and down to his truck. It was time he headed home...

***

Authors Notes-Sorry this chapter seems rather long-winded and rambly. But I hope you enjoyed it. And things will get a bit more steamier in the last chapter.

PS. Also sorry for any mistakes you might find in this chapter. Like I said work has me burnt out.

[amusedmuralist]

Emotional Grounding

@lorata this is for you. It is longer and more ramble than I’d thought it would be, but it does unmistakably include Eibhlin getting Gloria with a taser in defence of her Claudius Esteem Project.

There were so many places in this district that seemed to Eibhlin to be indiscernibly different; if she was to live in this district, she wanted to learn to perceive these differences herself, or at least hazard a guess at them. They’d started at a transport hub, a depot presently under repair, and took the engineer 's advice as to where they might find places in need of help now the worst was on its way to being fixed. Eibhlin took mental notes, as the advice seemed widely applicable. Quarry towns– poorer towns with tradespeople– were used to making do, had people who could do wonders with resources now shared across many districts rather than syphoned to the capital. Transit had been prioritised to get people the supplies and tools and people they needed so the central hubs were mostly under wraps by now. Now it was time to broaden their scope, make sure fresh eyes who hadn’t grown accustomed to the broken glass and missing stairs, could report such issues before people moved in.

Claudius said there was a distinction to be made between this part of the district and that where the victor village was located. “It's just different.”

“I hope you understand that isn't a distinction with a difference to those outside the immediate frame of reference. But if that is all you can provide, then that is sufficient.”

“It's like,” Claudius’s brow furrowed, “I'm not saying it's the same. But you could compare it to the difference between…” He trailed off again. He looked down, taking his time to put his feelings into something more concrete and generalisable.

“It's the difference between District One socialites and the ones from the Capitol,” He said. “Anyone who went through the program, or the academy for them I guess, has something to prove and they killed people. It doesn’t matter how well they hid it and passed the screen and interview training. The Capitol definitely was definitely responsible for deaths, but they never held the knife and saw the blood. You can't say that about district one. They've got more to prove, if they want to be the rich people on TV even for a moment.”

Eibhlin blinked rapidly, taking that information in and trying to contextualise it with the prefabricated houses that she had begun to notice. More facsimiles of each other than bearing any resemblance to those where Claudius and Brutus and Lyme all lived.

“Houses, more than homes.” She summarised.

Claudius shoved his hands into his pockets. “I guess? If that’s a distinction with a difference.”

Eiblhin nodded, gently knocking her elbow against Claudius’s, before they set off together. It incensed her, that Claudius could have been so dismissed that he believed himself stupid. He’d picked up concepts and aphorism metaphor like any Career tribute might pick up an unfamiliar blade: deliberate, thorough, and landing on his feet.

Here in this affluent but not wealthy area, there had clearly been looting. It was not so bad as in the Capitol, or in the districts where Tesserae hadn’t been a safe bet. Unless Eibhlin was mistaken, there was a more targeted approach to it, too. There were windows missing panes, trellises made to serve as ladders, and breaking under the strain, certainly, but there was far less damage for damage’s sake, no charred rose bushes nor beheaded topiary.

“It’s mostly salvageable,” Claudius agreed when she brought it up.

“In that case, we can likely focus on the cellars, the gardens, and those initial homes that extensions were tethered to, for repair, and the rest for salvage.” Eibhlin had taken notes when the engineers spoke.

Claudius nodded. “Yeah, and to the south east of here, there was that development with the asbestos recall order. I don’t think we should go out that way, not without masks.” Clearly, notebook or no, Claudius had been paying attention.

“I’ll suggest that to the engineers, we do not have any with us, and honestly, District two might not have any at this stage. Maybe we could requisition a team and personal protection equipment from Five?”

Claudius nodded. “Eight, too, with all the chemicals in dyes they probably know about that kind of thing.”

Eiblhin nodded, taking note and cementing it on her to-do list. “With that in mind, we should plan for for 4 or so hours, and head back, to make the train while having covered the most ground in thorough detail.”

The day was beautiful. The crispness of the autumn air was beautiful, and the deciduous trees that lined the street had started to stir in the breeze, depositing leaves across what had once been diligently kept lawns. Those lawns were less helpful than the fruit trees and herb gardens of other places on the route. Eiblhin kept careful notes, marking them on the digital map the engineers had loaned them. Claudius was better at identifying the plants: his Career days had ensured he knew the more esoteric imports that flourished in the manicured gardens, and something else—perhaps the company of Emory?—ensured he knew the utility of local herbs and weeds for food and medicine.

Every now and then, Claudius would check in with her, and she’d add his observations to the data. It meant they could cover more ground, taking opposing sides of the streets and staying close to call for confirmation. It also meant Eiblhin noticed when Claudius seemed to know what was coming up, where to find fruit trees and older, more welcoming homes. She wasn’t sure that he noticed it himself.

They’d come to stand together under the shade of an old eucalypt, not very old, likely transplanted for swiftgrowing shade in this newer allotment of homes. Claudius pointed out what could be a nest, or perhaps a fallen branch, and Eiblhin was debating internally whether it was better to leave it and wait for the return, or climb up.

A shrill voice cut through the quiet afternoon.

“Are you from the peacekeepers?” It demanded.

Eibhlin whirled around. She didn't mean to reach for her taser. But it was in her hand before she thought about it. Claudius for once was stiffer than she was, his feet coming comfortably into a more steady stance. Eiblhin was sure it was a measure of trust, that he didn’t whip around immediately, allowing her to have his back.

“No such thing anymore.” He said it as though his voice was quiet. It wasn’t, though, pitched to carry across naturalistically.

“Nonsense!” The woman the voice came from was taller than average, To Eiblhin, though likely short by district two's inflated standard. Her nose was pinched tight, her nostrils flaring. Her hair was twisted up in tarnished pins, a style Eibhlin remembered her stylist using for her in the interviews before the Quell. She sounded like she had been born complaining and she didn't intend to stop now. “You–”

Claudius wasn’t stiff, anymore. He turned on his heel, smooth and combat ready. Whatever complaint initially begun deflated as this woman took in Claudius’s face. “You!”

Claudius laughed. It wasn’t like the happy, sudden sounds Eiblhin associated with quiet afternoons, the rabbits, and melodic tunes. This was raucous, wild and unpolished.

“Me.” He confirmed. “I guess neither of us know how to die, huh?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, her shoulders and lips and fists tightening too. “If you're here to gawk, I wouldn't bother. Are you here to make things worse? I wouldn’t doubt it. Selfish boy.” Her voice arced like a live wire. Eibhlin’s hands tightened too.

Claudius’s laughter stopped dead. “Are you still after a house? Pretty sure now’s a worse time. So many traumatised now. Even if there was space for you, I doubt you’d make it through the night.”

Eiblhin saw the flash in this woman’s eyes. Had she sought a village domicile? People could be hard to read, and that seemed absurd.

“I heard the village was bombed and newcomers— well. I didn't hear that you survived. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You are as callous as ever.”

Eiblhin had heard enough. Her taser was still in her hand.

“Like mother, like s—“

Eibhlin lashed out, thrice for good measure.

Later, Claudius will tell her that she reminded him of Adessa, and Eiblin will wonder if that's what she and Betee have in common, that surgical precision in violence, that cold-hearted catharsis, that lets them not only live with Two, but make a home there. But those are thoughts for people who are not clinically deciding exactly when to ground their charge, so whoever this is will live, and there won't be a trial in which Claudius and this woman are entwined again.

Eibhlin didn’t think about anything else until the threat was neutralised, non-lethal.

“Let’s go.” Claudius said quietly.

Eibhlin looked up at him, and he never touched her without asking, and she was relatively sure the same rules would apply to him, should he be reliving any moment connected to the woman still twitching in the street.

“Yes.” She said, walking with him, keeping up with his ground eating stride.

[fanfic-inator795]

Idk, I feel like people are maybe being a bit too harsh to TGaMM s2. Maybe I’m just easy to please, or maybe I just have more fitting shows to compare it to. In terms of ‘episodic Disney shows that have arcs in the background’, TGaMM falls in the same ranks of Big City Greens and Wander Over Yonder (specifically WoY s2).

With the former, BCG was able to have subtle plot lines with characters like Chip Whistler and Gloria, as well as storylines like the Greens getting their farm back. Despite being incredibly episodic, BCG does an excellent job developing its characters and stories in such a natural and casual way that you almost don’t notice it at first.

Storylines and returning characters come and go, and the so-called ‘gaps’ in stories and arcs are still enjoyable if only because BCG is already a fun episodic show that you’re able to enjoy on its own merit. The moments where the show brings back a storyline and concludes an arc are just icing on the cake.

With the latter, WoY s2 is often heavily critiqued for doing a poor job characterizing and developing Lord Dominator - from not even using her for half a season, to caring more about using her as a way to boost other characters’ (namely Hater and Wander’s) arcs instead of actually giving Dom her own.

Things pick up slightly in the last third of the season, but in terms of the season’s main storyline, I don’t blame anyone for being disappointed in s2 of WoY. There are still good moments and good episodic stories, but the season-long arc falls flat in several different aspects.

Regarding TGaMM s2, I feel as though it falls right between these two shows. Now, could the show use the Chens in a more efficient way given that they were meant to sorta be the main conflict of the season? Sure, totally. Based on how things are going, I’m sure we’ll get most of our Chen content towards the last few eps, similar to the Dominator arc.

BUT, I have two counterpoints: for one, the show is called “The Ghost and Molly McGee”, so many of the plots are going to either directly involve or heavily feature one or both of the show’s titular characters. Considering both Molly’s crush on/friendship with him and her desire to charge his mind about ghosts, it makes sense that the show would focus on developing Ollie and Molly’s bond with him first and foremost before heavily involving the rest of Ollie’s fam.

Secondly, as interesting as the Chen storyline COULD potentially be, the episodes that we have been getting have still been enjoyable either because of their good stories, wholesome moments or really funny jokes. Because I’m still enjoying the show itself, I personally can’t be too mad at ‘missed potential’. Obviously I can’t speak for everyone in the fandom, but I’m still getting everything that I need from the show, and while I’m hoping that the climaxes to the Chen and Jinx storylines will be good ones, I still see them as just the nice bonuses to an already enjoyable show.

It should also be noted that the show has never been about these grand plots or huge action-packed climaxes, but on fun stories, jokes, good lessons, enjoyable character pieces and the themes of community and helping others be happy. This is NOT the type of show that would ever portray the Chens as this huge villainous force that would start a full-on war against ghosts. They aren’t Dominator or even Chip Whistler. They’re YouTubers for crying out loud! All I’m saying is that, when it comes to the Chen storyline, I get why it maybe doesn’t feel as dire or need as much focus as the Jinx storyline, and in my honest opinion, I feel like it’s climax can still be satisfying even if it maybe didn’t have the strongest lead-up.

[indigomarina]

Hazbin OC x Canon Week Day 6 - Time Periods (Frosted Apple)

For @hazbinocxcanon

Gloria/Glacia is from this for anyone who wants to see more of her. (Time Period switches back and forth between before and after Lilith left but before the hotel)

Glacia is in the palace kitchen, cleaning Charlie's room while she was out on an errand. As she carefully sweeps the floor, Lucifer enters the room, his eyes immediately drawn to her. "I believe that's Charlie's job." Lucifer joked. "I know, Lucifer. But you know I love taking care of Charlie." Glacia said, smiling. Lucifer leans against the counter, watching her work with a fond expression. "You're so good with her, Gloria. She's lucky to have you in her life…and so am I." Lucifer said. Glacia looks up, a slight blush on her cheeks at the praise. "Oh, it's nothing special. I'm just doing my job." she said modestly. She turns back to her task, missing the lovestruck look on Lucifer's face as he continues to gaze at her.

It's family dinner night at the Morningstar palace, and the tension in the dining room is palpable. Lilith sits at one end of the table, picking at her food with a scowl. Lucifer is at the other end, trying to keep the conversation light and failing miserably. Charlie and Glacia sit in the middle, the former pushing her peas around her plate while the latter keeps shooting Lilith pointed looks. "Glacia, is there something you'd like to say to me? You've been staring daggers at me all evening." Lilith asked irritated. "Oh, no, Lilith. Just marveling at how…present you are tonight. It's not often we're graced with your presence at family dinners." Glacia said sarcastically. Lilith narrowed her eyes, "And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked. Glacia shrugged, "Oh, nothing. Just an observation." Lucifer clears his throat awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation. So, Charlie, how was your day, my little apple blossom?" Charlie starts to answer, but Lilith cuts her off, her gaze still locked on Glacia. "You know, Glacia, if you have something to say about my role as a wife and mother, perhaps you should just come out and say it." Lilith said acidly. Glacia raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't dream of overstepping my bounds, Lilith. After all, I'm just the hired help…the one who's here every day, taking care of your daughter while you're off doing…whatever it is you do." Glacia said passive aggressively. Lilith's eyes flash with anger, and she leans forward, her voice low and dangerous. "And I'm sure that's all you're doing, isn't it? Just taking care of my daughter…and not trying to worm your way into my husband's heart?" Lilith hissed. Lucifer nearly chokes on his wine, his eyes wide with shock. "Lilith?! Gloria is a valued member of our household, nothing more!" Lucifer sputtered. But even as he says it, there's a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a hint of guilt that doesn't go unnoticed by Lilith. "Is it, Lucifer? Because from where I'm sitting, it seems like you're awfully cozy with the help." Lilith said coldly. "I can assure you, Lilith, my relationship with Lucifer is strictly professional. I would never dream of coming between a married couple." Glacia retorted. But there's a hint of bitterness in her voice, a touch of longing that she can't quite hide. Lilith notices it too, her suspicions only growing. Lilith stood up abruptly, "You know what? I've lost my appetite. If you'll excuse me…" She stalks out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in her wake. Lucifer sighs, rubbing his temples wearily. "Glacia, I'm sorry. She shouldn't have said those things." Lucifer apologized tiredly. "It's fine, Lucifer. Let's just…let's just focus on Charlie, shall we?" Glacia said quietly. She turns her attention to the little princess, trying to coax a smile out of her. But even as she does, her mind is racing with the implications of Lilith's words…and the truth she sees in Lucifer's eyes. From that night forward, the tension between Lilith and Glacia only grows, fueled by Lilith's jealousy and Glacia's quiet judgment…and the unspoken feelings that simmer just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Flashback to shortly after Lilith's departure. Lucifer sits alone in his study, staring blankly at the fireplace, a glass of untouched whiskey in his hand. The room is dark, save for the flickering flames casting shadows on the walls. There's a soft knock at the door. "Lucifer? May I come in?" Glacia asked Lucifer doesn't respond, but Glacia enters anyway, her icy blue eyes filled with concern. She approaches him slowly, taking a seat beside him on the plush red sofa. "I just put Charlie to bed. She's asking for you again." Glacia told him softly. Lucifer sighed heavily, "I'm sorry, Glacia. I know I should be there for her, but I just…" He trails off, his voice cracking with emotion. "I don't know how to face her, knowing her mother left us." Glacia reaches out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. Her touch is cool, but soothing, like a balm to his aching heart. "It's not your fault, Lucifer. Lilith made her choice, and it's her loss. " Gloria reassured, smiling sadly. "She's missing out on an incredible man and a wonderful father." Lucifer looks up at her, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with pain. But there's a spark of something else there too, a flicker of hope and longing. "You really think so?" Lucifer whispered. Glacia nodded firmly, "I know so. I've seen the way you are with Charlie, the love and devotion you have for her." She said, squeezing his arm gently. Lucifer's gaze softens, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He places his hand over hers, marveling at the contrast between her icy skin and his own warmth. "Thank you, Glacia. I don't know what I'd do without you." Lucifer murmured. Glacia smiled warmly, "You'll never have to find out. I'll always be here for you, Lucifer. For you and Charlie both." she said. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. Lucifer's heart swells with a new emotion, a feeling he'd never experienced before, not even with Lilith. It's a warmth that spreads through his chest, a flutter in his stomach, a longing to be closer to the icy demoness beside him. 'Is this… love? Real, true love?' he thought to himself. He glances at Glacia, his eyes tracing the delicate features of her face. 'She's always been there for me, for Charlie. She's kind, and caring, and beautiful…' He swallows hard, a realization dawning on him. 'I think I'm falling for her.' Glacia notices his stare and blushes, a pretty shade of frost creeping across her cheeks. She clears her throat, standing up and smoothing her dress. "I should go, let you get some rest." Glacia said. She hesitates, then leans down, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Lucifer." She turns to leave, but Lucifer catches her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. He looks up at her, his eyes shining with a newfound adoration. "Stay. Please." Lucifer whispered. Glacia's breath catches, her heart skipping a beat at the tender look in his eyes. She nods, settling back down beside him, their hands still clasped together. "Always." Glacia whispered. The scene fades, the image of the two demons, once employer and employee, now on the cusp of something new and beautiful, forever burned into the tapestry of their lives. It's a moment that marks the beginning of a love story that will change the course of Hell's history, a love that will give rise to a new era of hope and redemption, embodied in the twins that will one day be born from their union.