#i feel like he would adore jacqui

[spaghetsquid]

Idk about you, but I felt like this fit Takeda

[lemonmatronics]

I just got done watching Out of the Past and I don’t think I’ll ever recover omg

I cried like 5 times and it took me an hour to get through cause I had to keep pausing to freak out and compose myself

That episode…GOD THAT EPISODE

I wanna ramble so spoilers below the cut since it’s like, actually a lot

So much in that episode got revealed it’s making me insane

Aja and Shana being the first Starlight Girls makes me so insane. Idk if they had ever mentioned that before and I just didn’t notice or forgot, but GOD that adds sm to the whole band’s bond. As well as adding to them working at Starlight too. They didn’t just work there because they agreed with the dream Jacqui stood for, Aja and Shana WERE the dream. That makes me sooooo crazy TEEHEEHEE

Also the reveal of how their mom died…ough

It explains a lot about Jerrica’s whole character to me tbh. Throughout the whole series so far I’ve been here thinking, “Wow, Jerrica is awfully patient and understanding with people. She’s barely ever mad at or super upset with people she cares about, and if she is it’s not for long”

and like…after learning that YEAH, Of course she’s like that! The last time she saw her mother she acted awful to her

What if she gets upset with someone and that’s the last time she ever sees them? It makes so much sense to me and makes what was seemingly a “flat and almost always perfect” type of character a lot more compelling. Not to say I didn’t like her before, I fuckin adore Jerrica, but that layer of extra complexity adds a LOT to her.

Speaking of Jerrica I loved seeing her grieve more. Both her and Kimber both seemed to have delayed reactions to each of their parents deaths, and sure that may have been accidental (most likely was), I think it’s interesting that big events and happenstances cause these emotions to bubble up later on. It’s gives a grounded layer of realism to their characters and I like that!

I also like that Jerrica used to kinda be a brat when she was younger. She wasn’t ALWAYS so thoughtful and acted like any kid and teen would to stuff happening around her, which again I like. It’s a realistic layer to her that adds a lot for me.

Onto talking about her mom more, the insight on both parents makes me nuts. Synergy being made with Jacqui’s voice and such drives me up the wall, that reveal floored me. But I like that it doesn’t change the fact Synergy is still her own separate being, she’s not Jacqui herself, only similar.

And the earrings being the last thing their father made…ohh makes me crazy. He wanted to give them to Jerrica personally…OOOH MAKES ME CRAZY….HE KNEW HE WAS DYING AND SPENT HIS LAST DAYS GETTING THINGS READY FOR HIS FAMILY…...OOOOHHHH MAKES ME CRAZY

And Eric Raymond…Eric when I catch you Eric. I’m going to kill that man I SWEAR DJJSHX Like I knew he was fucked up but OH MY GOD DUDE

Burning them in front of her!? Knowing it’s all she really has left of her mom voice!?

Slap was DESERVED. Her crying for her mom over the fire, her straight up reaching INTO the fire!? Should’ve beaten his ass.

Side note I fuckin love how much they slap men in this show. It’s not so much it loses its shock and impact when it happens, but enough to where you can say “yeah they slap guys a lot” and it’s true.

I also really like that The Misfits aren’t really active antagonists in this episode either. For multiple reasons.

The most they do is help Eric look for those tapes, and they don’t even know why they’re so important. Even after asking, and Eric is the one that finds them anyways so they don’t ever find out. And they’re left at that, no other appearance.

The Misfit’s rivalry with Jem is very petty and spiteful, as much as it may feel personal for them, it’s really not. It’s simply a band rivalry, an extreme one, but it’s formed out of very juvenile motivation.

Eric’s rivalry is not, his beef with Jerrica is IMMENSELY more personal not only because he used to be part of the company, but because he used to be a friend of the family. He knew this girl ever since she was a teenager, and she was ALWAYS a threat to him having full company control. And once she managed to kick him out the door any nice facade with her was over. She’s the reason he lost so much and depends so heavily on a band that treats him like shit (haha).

Their rivalry is infinitely more personal, and for such a personal conflict involving Jerrica’s dead mother, the woman that started Starlight, it only makes sense this would be a battle for him and him alone.

Additionally,, I just don’t think even The Misfits would go that far. Hell even Raymond with anyone else, but because it was Jerrica Benton specifically he had no issue burning her mother’s tapes right in front of her.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley in the U.K.

Jim Irvin, 'From Hallelujah to the Last Goodbye' (Post Hill), May 2018

Excerpted from Jeff Buckley: From Hallelujah to the Last Goodbye by Jeff's former manager Dave Lory and former MOJO man Jim Irvin (Post Hill Press).

JEFF BUCKLEY loved British music; the nervous energy in British punk, the wired consciousness of the Clash, the way Siouxsie and the Banshees went from gun-metal moodiness to skies full of fireworks.

He adored the Cocteau Twins, of course, especially Liz Fraser's "impossible voice". He loved how the Smiths called to outsiders and nerds. He loved the textures of Johnny Marr's supple guitar and the mordant presence of Steve Jones's guitar in the Sex Pistols.

Jeff, whose own nervous energy was considerable, became even more wired whenever we went to the UK; he was stimulated by its variety. He also appreciated its compactness – the lack of eight-hour drives between cities was refreshing.

Sony had passed on Live at Sin-é in Europe. We were understandably disappointed, but there was a solution close at hand: Steve Abbott, known to everyone as Abbo, who ran the eccentric indie record label Big Cat and had picked up on many of the promising un-signed bands playing in New York: Pavement, Mercury Rev, Luscious Jackson. He had approached Jeff after Gods & Monsters and Sin-é shows and asked him if he'd like to record with Big Cat, but then Sony stepped in. Jeff felt that he owed Abbo a record, so when Columbia UK passed on Live at Sin-é and Michele Anthony instigated a funding deal with Big Cat, it seemed the perfect opportunity for them to become involved. Abbo jumped at the chance.

Big Cat's small team – Abbo, co-owner Linda Obadiah, Frank Neidlich in marketing, and Jacqui Rice in press – did such a good job that the week it was released in Europe, Live at Sin-é sold over four thousand copies, which was amazing for a complete unknown.

After a Sony conference, where it was clear that a lot of the affiliates were bemused by him, Jeff had a warm-up show at Whelan's in Dublin. By the time he came on, the crowd, several drinks into its evening, had become a little boisterous. Jeff said hello softly, as usual, but no one was really paying attention. Jeff just stood there, waiting. People started to quieten down and watch to see what he would do. There was a pint of his favourite beer, Guinness, sitting on the stool next to him. Jeff lifted the glass to his lips and downed it in one hit. Everyone on the room cheered, and he began the Irish show with the crowd completely on his side.

The audience was more blasé the next night at his London debut at The Borderline, a Western-themed venue under a dubious Mexican diner in Soho, right in the heart of London, a group of local reps for hip American indie labels like Sub Pop and Merge yacking away rather disrespectfully at the bar. In the age of grunge, a lone guy with a guitar softly singing Edith Piaf covers was baffling for some.

"It was an epiphany for me," says Sara Silver, Sony's European head of marketing. "There are some shows where it just feels like you're a voyeur, looking into someone's soul. This was one of those. He was charismatic, but also haunting, and I think because of my particular situation at the time, still suffering from the [loss of my husband], he resonated hugely. This haunting sound was a powerful force, and it was my job to work out how we took it to the world."

A gig the next night in Glasgow meant an early-morning flight back to Heathrow the following morning to catch a session with GLR, London's local BBC station, a slot designed to alert people to the next couple of gigs at the Garage in Islington and at Bunjies, a cute little basement folk club in Central London that dated back to the early 1960s and made Sin-é seem generously proportioned.

Abbo was accompanying Jeff on this run.

"We'd meet regularly at a bar called Tom & Jerry's in New York, hang out and drink Guinness together," Abbo says, "I suppose I became a friend of his, and he didn't seem to have many real friends. I'd only discovered I liked the blues since living in New York, so it was great hanging with him, because he was a huge blues and jazz fan and if there was a guitar around he had to pick it up and show off. He knew every Robert Johnson song, every Muddy Waters tune, Bessie Smith; he introduced me to the physicality of the blues, watching it at close quarters. Everybody talks about his voice, but he was a brilliant guitarist. The guitar was an extension of his body.

"Tim Buckley hadn't really entered my line of vision growing up listening to black music. Singer-songwriters with fluffy hairstyles were not currency on my council estate in Luton! We were in Tom & Jerry's and someone said to Jeff, 'I've been listening to your dad,' and I said, 'Who's your dad?' and he said, 'Tim Buckley.' I knew the name from record shopping; I'd seen the sleeves in the racks, but that's it. But when he came over to Britain there were loads of Tim Buckley fans. And it was a real problem early on, because he really didn't like talking about him."

The traffic from the airport to the GLR studios just off Baker Street was awful. A road accident had slowed everything to a standstill. Jeff's slot on the mid-morning show was fast approaching. "Of course, this was before mobile phones, so I had no way of communicating with the radio station that we were stuck in traffic," says Abbo. "For the last few days on this tour, everyone who'd interviewed Jeff had been asking about his dad. How did Tim write 'Song To The Siren'? Was there stuff in his lyrics that he might have related to? Things Jeff couldn't answer.

"We were listening to GLR while we waited in traffic and the presenter kept saying, 'We're supposed to have this artist, Tim Buckley's son, turning up, but he's late....Will he or won't he turn up?' This went on and on. She must have said 'Tim Buckley's son' about four times and didn't mention Jeff once. Suddenly, he just kicked my car radio in with his big DMs [Doc Martens], just smashed the fascia and then sat back sulking all the way there. I could get another radio, of course, but I was mostly worried he wasn't going to do the performance. 

"We finally arrived about forty minutes late and they were all so rude to us, and yet they knew what the problem was, as they were broadcasting traffic updates and warnings of delays themselves. If I were him, I'd have walked out. The female presenter was a typical local radio DJ, a bit gushy and knew nothing about him and his music. I had a word with the station manager to ask her to stop mentioning Tim Buckley, and he handed her a note to that effect. Jeff just sat there silently and she said, 'What are you going to play?' and Jeff said, 'A song.' I'm thinking, 'Oh god, here we go.' And he started to play "Grace." He did this long guitar introduction, went on for about a minute, like he needed to calm himself down before he got to the actual start of the song, and then he launched into the most electrifying performance. The best I ever heard him do it.

"There were about six phones in the control room, and they all started lighting up. 'Who is this? Who is this? It's amazing!' And all the time, Jeff's getting more and more into it. The presenter went from being this standoffish woman to...I swear she would have thrown herself on him given half a chance, the second he finished singing. You could see she was totally enthralled."

Presenter: "You looked quite exhausted at the end of the song."

Jeff: "I was getting a lot of anger out. Something happened on the way here..."

"The phones didn't stop throughout the next song. The station manager said that in all his twelve years at the station, he'd never seen a reaction like it."

Abbo thinks this performance sparked Jeff's breakthrough. There were certainly plenty of people in line outside the Garage in North London that night. Inside, the first stars were taking note. Chrissie Hynde and Jon McEnroe were in the audience. Chrissie had been a big fan and a friend of Tim's, had actually interviewed him while she was briefly a music journalist with the NME, and she was obviously curious to see how his offspring compared. They struck up a conversation after the show and she clearly said the right thing, because he went off with her to jam with the Pretenders in a nearby rehearsal room. I wasn't carrying anything heavy because of a recent lung collapse, and I didn't want Jeff to pull any important muscles, so I asked McEnroe if he wouldn't mind. He happily hauled Jeff's amp downstairs to the car. The Pretenders' jam with special guests Buckley and Mac went on all night.

Bunjies, as I've said, was tiny, a basement folk club and coffee bar on West Street in Soho, along from the Ivy, with gingham tablecloths and melted candles in wine bottles on the tables and a performance area tucked into a couple of arches in what must have been a wine cellar at one point. It looked unchanged since it had begun in the early 1960s, and had seen a couple of folk booms come and go. It was more of a cafe with an open-mic policy by this point, which felt like a good place for Jeff. There wasn't really any need for amplification, so when we arrived for a sound check there was very little to do but see where Jeff was going to stand in the cramped space and gauge how his voice reflected off the nicotine-stained ceilings. While Jeff did that, I went outside for some fresh air and was stunned to see a line of people already waiting to get into the show.

I took a look at the guest list and realised we'd be lucky to fit twenty of this assembling crowd in the tiny space. Every time I looked up, the line was getting further down West Street. I went back into the venue and found Jeff talking to Emma Banks, the agent. He was saying how great the venue was and that he'd like to do something like hand out flowers to everyone before he went on.

"Jesus, you won't believe what's happening out there," I said to them. "The line goes about four blocks. There's no way these people are going to get in. Is there any way we can do two sets?" Jeff was happy to. Emma spoke to the club owner and was told they had some regular club night happening later on. She came back and said, "They can't do it but I've had an idea!" She disappeared up the steps onto the street, and I spoke to Jeff.

"What flowers would you like?"

"White roses," he said.

"I'll get them," I said, and went back up to the street, where the line had grown even longer.

I walked around looking for a florist and bumped into Emma. "I've booked Andy's Forge," she said. "It's a little place just around the corner in Denmark Street. He can go on at 10:30."

I bought as many white roses as I could find. Jeff handed them to people waiting outside and those lucky enough to get into the club, as he squeezed himself into the corner that passed for a stage. He sang upward, listening to his voice reflect off the curved ceiling into this hot, crowded, and attentive space. There must have been a hundred people stuffed in there.

When the show was over, Jeff walked up the steps to the huddle of patient people that Emma had gathered, plus anyone from the first show who wanted to tag along, and led this crowd like the Pied Piper toward Andy's Forge. Abbo was alongside me. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" I said.

"Never!" he said. And we laughed liked idiots at the wonderful absurdity of hanging out with Jeff.

© Jim Irvin, 2018

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #673

Top Ten Beautiful South Songs

Another pretty simple one this week. I’m ranking my favourite songs by The Beautiful South. Why? Well, because I like them, that’s why.

I do kinda struggle to write about music the way I can write about, say, movies, because music has always just been background to me, whereas film and stuff I’ve followed. I know the difference between a track and a zoom, but sometimes the words escape me when describing songs. However, the Beautiful South has moved and delighted me for about thirty years now – maybe even longer, because I do remember back when Paul Heaton was in the Housemartins. But they possess a mix of lyricism, working-class grit, earnestness, and humour that feels not only quintessentially British but also very specifically Northern. They – and let’s be honest, when I say “they” I really mean “Paul Heaton”, because whilst I do not want to diminish the endeavours of everyone else in this band, he’s been the constant and also the main creative poohbah across, well, sort of three bands now I guess – craft beautiful ballads of loss and hope, with the most exquisite lyrics, but also manage to be wildly entertaining most of the time (Artificial Flowers is a hell of a downer, though).

As is often the case with music, it’s the lyrics that really get me. Heaton is a fabulous lyricist, and is songs would rank really highly if I ever did a Top Ten Lyrics of All Time post. Often there’s a sense of tragedy, or at least melancholy, to his words; you’ll see this in the likes of Alone. But there’s also tremendous love and heart, which is shot through with a dose of realism; everything from Prettiest Eyes to I’ll Sail This Ship Alone shows this. And then, on top of it all, there’s humour; whether it’s bawdy (Perfect 10) or dark (Old Red Eyes is Back), it’s prevalent throughout. And it’s this mix that I adore in all their work. And like I said before, it just feels so delightfully Northern.

Anyway that’s enough preamble. Let’s get to the words with numbers in front of them.

Prettiest Eyes (1994): a beautiful and tender song about love and romance, told from the point of view of an older couple. It’s rare that a love story of any kind celebrates long-lasting love over the passion of new romance, but the tender and sexy reminiscing, combined with the humorous gags about crow’s feet, make this a gorgeous ballad.

A Little Time (1990): on the flipside, a song about failed love; chronicling the exploits of a horrid cheating little bugger and his suffering partner. The selfish depiction of the adulterous man – wanting to have his cake and eat it – feels depressingly true; but the joy of the thing is the glorious rise to power of the spurned woman. It’s a thrilling and somewhat amusing end to a song rife with emotion.

Alone (1996): talking about dark, this is a pean to wasted life; a sad but somehow also romantic song about crippling loneliness and regret. Heaton’s voice is especially gravelly, suggesting a misspent life of cigarettes and alcohol. But circling back to the lyrics, this song contains one of my favourites of all time: “Hearts built like reservoirs, words built like dams / Thoughts built like juggernauts, our actions built like prams.” Blimey.

Song for Whoever (1989): thankfully we can get a bit more humorous now, with this early and very funny hit for the band. Unpicking and satirising the way songwriters (and any writer, I guess, now I come to think about it) can use their lives, and the lives of those closest to them, as raw material for creation. And, of course, amidst that potentially serious morass, we have Heaton hilariously listing tons of women’s names and thanking them for their tears. Lol.

Don’t Marry Her (1996): a song that manages to be very funny but also rather poignant and sad. Yes, it’s funny how Jacqui Abbott contrasts the thought of a passionate affair with domesticity; yes, it’s hilarious how she swears. But this contrast actually speaks to a greater sadness, a more profound emotion; despite the talk of Sandra Bullocks, it’s a powerful song.

Perfect 10 (1998): a bit like Don’t Marry Her, this is on one hand a rather funny song but also speaks to a greater truth. It’s simultaneously a love letter to imperfection and the sort of passion that persists in long-running relationships. And, look, the lyrics are hilarious.

Just a Few Things That I Ain’t (1989): again we have a very funny song with a deeper and more melancholy meaning. The long, delightfully jaunty list Heaton gives – comparing himself unfavourably to Bono and Sting, talking about being insulted by teachers – is great on one level, but also speaks to the sorts of insecurities instilled in the working classes by those in power.

One Last Love Song (1994): a tender and emotive ballad that also pokes fun at tender and emotive ballads and those who sing them; like many of Heaton’s songs, it’s amusing and emotive at the same time. There’s a tenderness to it – I love the line “farewell my sweet Northern Rose” – but also a self-deprecating tone that’s fantastic.

I’ll Sail This Ship Alone (1989): there’s a beautiful contrast between the rather upbeat, almost jaunty tone, and the lyrics, which are bitingly sad. The notion of carrying on after heartbreak is an optimistic one, but the repeated refrain of sending love letters that are burnt speaks to a tragic desperation that undercuts the optimism.

Old Red Eyes is Back (1991): rather than a sweet song with hidden depths or humour, this is a broadly funny song that’s got deeper sadness and darkness. It’s a tale of a an old drunk and the misery in his life, but sung in such a way as to seem amusing or endearing. The tragic end – “Old Red he died / And every single landlord in the district cried” – is also told in hilarious fashion, but again we have those undercurrents.

Y’know, almost all of these songs I could have just written “it’s really funny but also really sad and musically it’s beautiful”. Would have saved me time.

Also, I'm pretty sure the gif is actually the Housemartins? It's literally the only thing I found on Tumblr that had Paul Heaton on it. You'd think someone would have made a gif of, like, the Little Time video or something.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| The Storms ||

Description: A day in the life of the Storm family. 

Pairing: Dad!Johnny Storm | Mom!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Johnny Storm. 

Warning(s): None of the explicit sort. Fluff, Johnny and his spawns being proper little menaces, stressed out human mom Y/n, mild marital affection, authoritative father!Johnny towards the end, d/s undertones. 

Note: Yes, this is very much a coping fic lmfao. The reason why this doesn't have a teaser is because it was supposed to be a drabble. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

Read the nsfw part 2 here.

MASTERLIST 

Getting to trust and then dating Johnny storm was one thing. But marrying him and having kids with him?

One word. 

Chaotic.

And as your youngest (at the moment) burst into the scorching flames all of your others had also done at her age, you had to step back before pinching the bridge of your nose to attempt composure. The smell of burning cloth and wood hit your nose before the alarm went off and water sprayed out, causing you to close your eyes as you focused on your breathing to remain calm. 

You liked to believe you had rather mastered your ability to cope with your little superhuman family's antics. 

"Hey, little Princess~" you heard your husband's much proud and smug coo from behind you before you could call out for him. Good. Your daughter who was still very much orange and in flames giggled and clapped her chubby little hands at the sight of her father, the fire control system having extinguished everything around her but not quite the source. 

"Dada!" The little ball of fire reached out for Johnny, the cause of all of this, and cackled along with the man when he easily picked her up as she was, unfazed by the heat. And though he absolutely adored his kids anyways, your husband was especially sweet right now.

Because it was a triumphant moment for him.

Ever since your eldest had inherited his power, you two betted everytime you got pregnant whether the next baby would be like you or him.

And you had just lost yet again.

It seemed your genes did not even try against your husband's extraordinary ones.

"Ohhh look at this here little Bree Storm following into her Daddy's footsteps!" You rolled your eyes and sighed, spinning on your heels before trudging to the kitchen while your husband baby-talked to your daughter. 

Great. 

You loved your family and were very grateful for them. 

But it would be nice if at least one of your kids took after you and your ordinariness.

Because five hyperenergetic, extremely naughty and robust superhuman children along with their father who was honestly no better than them at times were a tad bit much for a very human you at times. 

And as you stepped into the kitchen, the scene unfolding before you pushed aside any guilt regarding the annoyance that you were feeling in this moment. 

Because Torus, your eldest (8), who had recently learnt how to fly was bolting across the expanse of the kitchen as he urged his successor, Axel (6), to follow into his stance, instructing her on how she could trigger the flight. 

The son you had had after them, Sonny (5), was happily sitting on a counter and swinging his legs back and forth with the marshmallow jar placed next to him as he fished one out, s'mored it and then put it in his mouth. 

The older of your youngest ones, Jacqui (4) was 'drawing' on a fine, much expensive canvas (if you said so yourself) that Johnny had gotten her when he had realized her artistic edge. The girl was seated in the safest spot as opposed to her siblings; on the floor. Only, she was using her hot red index finger to trace the patterns into the surface of the canvas instead of on it. 

You willed your widened eyes into closing again as you did another breathing exercise, the water from the fire extinguisher system still dripping down your nose that was so accustomed to the smell of fire that you didn't even mind it much anymore. 

Now your mind contemplated whether or not to call Johnny for help. Because it was a running challenge between you two that all of Daddy's babies needed him, which included you; the original one. But you liked to deny and prove that you could manage it on your own without him and did not need his constant help to handle your own kids. 

Except you did, but you would never admit it.

Though when Torus hit one of the lights that hung from the ceiling like the brat he was -something Johnny said the boy inherited from you, like he himself was any better- and almost knocked the cover and his own eye out, you decided pride could wait for now.

"Johnny!" You bellowed, causing the little deviants to look up with a startle only to start giggling when they realized that it was just you. A pout made its way on your lips as you huffed. Unbelievable! 

"Yes, sweeth…" Your husband appeared in the doorway after having put Bree in one of Jacqui's old rompers.

Your kids' clothes were all made of the same material as that of Johnny's uniform that they had managed to recreate at the lab. This was done to prevent wastage of the expensive baby clothes that he liked to personally shop for every child independent of your buyings.

But this time around you had only bought regular clothes as you had felt sure Bree was like you. 

Oh, Johnny was so gonna tease your futile confidence for months!

The bratty lot squealed and bolted past you to hide behind their dad, pretending to cower from your nonexistent wrath. "DADDY, SAVE US!" They cried in unison, drowning out your husband's voice in their playful cries that had a mix of knowing giggles and plotting hushed whispers in them. 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you pursed your lips tightly, shaking your head while eyeing them with an unimpressed look. 

This was routine. 

They would cause all kinds of chaos known to man and then the moment you tried to put your foot down -which was hard enough for you as it was because their faces that were such a perfect and synchronized mix of the one you loved so much in addition to your own were very hard to stay mad at-, Daddy was being summoned and put between your bodies like a rock. 

Oftentimes a traitorous rock for you, if you said so yourself.  

All their personalities were variants of his and Johnny made his pride and support for his naughty little clones very obvious. 

"Ho, ho, ho!" You heaved another sigh as you shook your head at the comical way your husband widened his brilliant blue eyes. "What is this that I am hearing?! What is going on?!" Johnny deepened his voice to mimic an authoritative one. "Daddy demands an explanation for this cruel commotion!" As the brats cheered, your annoyed eyes turned to him and his playfully puffed out chest deflated fast. 

Pushing one hip out, you raised an eyebrow and put a foot out to tap against the ground, cocking your head to the side. "You do, do you, Daddy?" The firmness in your tone had him spring up and turn to the kids to shush them like the most obedient husband ever. 

"That was for you little miscreants!" Now it was your turn to be smug as you smirked and jutted your chest out proudly. "You know the rule! No one misbehaves with Mommy and everyone obeys her!" The kids whined and tossed themselves left and right, the little lot now shuffling away from him and in your legs to be saved from the cruelty of their father. 

"Sorry, mommyyyyy!" You could not help but snicker as you shook your head at the wailing cuties, nodding at Johnny to stop when he went to reprimand them further only for your sake as you knew he did not like doing it on his own account. 

"To the breakfast table, all of you!" As the group shuffled before marching to their ordered destination like the most well-behaved little superhumans ever, you knew there was strength in numbers. 

"So you see, Mommy…" A silent gasp escaped you when your husband's huge and hot hand crept along your waist from behind before grasping one of your hips, mouth against the shell of your ear. "All of Daddy's babies need him" Bree, who was still enveloped in one of his arms, giggled and clapped as if in agreement. The baby girl loved to see you two just existing together in marital bliss. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes -a habit that had gotten you in trouble with him a handful of times- before holding your hands out for your toddler who gladly eased down and into your hold. "Well then," you paused to peck at your daughter's feather-soft rosy cheek. "Daddy should sit his big butt down and eat up so he can remain strong for his babies" your daughter cackled when Johnny clicked his tongue in disapproval after doing one of his dramatic gasps only for you to pinch him by the ear before dragging him behind you and towards your spawns.

"Language, please– wooaaah!" Bree's siblings joined in on the giggling and you couldn't help but follow suit when Johnny's big body awkwardly flailed as it bent downwards in your direction to keep up, plopping down in the Daddy chair at his end of the table when you finally approached it.

"Now, honey" you said after putting your toddler in her high chair and placing her baby plate in front of her, approaching your husband's seat as you waited for him to finish serving the kids. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as he went along joking and scooping. 

"Yes, my sweets?" That earned him collective cringed out retches from the older kids and you. "Hmmm…" You could just imagine his conspiratorial smirk. "I don't know why but it smells like grounding season in here" Bree unknowingly blinked at her siblings' denying whines as she chomped on her baby food. "That's what I thought." You rolled your eyes at Johnny's smug snicker as he reinforced his authority, reveling in the apologies that were presented to him.

You waited for the commotion to die down before speaking. "Hun, would you be so kind as to tell our superkids about what we have decided?" Johnny took a bite of his toast that you shook your head at since he offered it to you first, nodding with a hum and clearing his mouth out with a swallow before he continued on with your request. 

"Of course, dear" he twisted a little to give the first forkful of his eggs to you as you weren't eating yet. "Okay, now." Facing your extraordinary lot, Johnny began. "Mommy and I have been discussing this for quite some time now and we have come to a mutual agreement" if it were not for Johnny now using his dad voice, you could just imagine Sonny asking him what mutual meant and then Torus calling him stupid only for Axel to defend her favorite brother and the conversation fading into chaos. 

But no one messed with Daddy when he meant business. 

A blush crept up your cheeks at the thought. 

The contrast between his usual bubbly self and authoritative father when it was needed was something even you had to admit was impressive.

And extremely attractive. 

You were more the pushover parent, helpless at the hands of your maternal impulses and the softheartedness that you had for the brats. But Johnny… He could play around as the fun parent all day long and then put his foot down as a strict father like it was nothing. 

Only he could have your deviants all line up in place like it wasn't his spoiling them that turned them into the little brats that they were in the first place.

But you did not actually mind their natures because, not that you were the sappy pro-birth kind of a weirdo mom, they were the best thing you had ever done. 

For they were the product of the love and bond that you shared with the best man you had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Johnny. 

Your Johnny. 

You slightly jumped as Jacqui squealed at something your husband said only to lower her head and mutter out an apology when Johnny glanced at her, the ordeal breaking you out of your reverie. You could swear your kids had better intelligence and coherence than other kids their ages. 

"Thank you, Jacqui" he firmly nodded at the girl who could pass off as his literal doppelganger because of how alike their faces were, only hers had a femininity to it. "Now, back to the discussion; house rules" though none of them whined, the scowls on their faces made you snort. "I am sorry, Mommy" you bit your lip as he only half turned his head to look over his shoulder. "But will you care to share what was so funny about that?" Your cheeks pinked and suddenly you were nothing but his little girl again. 

"N- Nothing, sir" that was the name he was called by the one who misbehaved. 

"I see" the edge to his tone made you mirror Jacqui until he turned away. "So, as I was saying before I was interrupted by two of my best girls…" He shot you both one last firm look before continuing. "Torus, no more flying in the house, buddy. We have been over this a couple times already at this point and…" The boy peeked up at his father through his thick blonde fringe as he munched on his cherry tomato. "Not cool" Johnny shook his head for emphasis. "It's a safety hazard."

You hummed in agreement, nodding authoritatively like you hadn't just been handled in a similar manner. 

"And everything that is dangerous like showing cool little tricks to the neighbors' kids" Axel lowered her head as her father's gaze set on her to make her feel called out. "Or making s'mores yourself" Sonny hid his face behind his plate when the older man leaned towards him. "Or using anything other than paints and colors to draw" Jacqui was pouting exactly like the man speaking to her did when he was annoyed, playing with her eggs quietly. "Will get you in serious trouble" he paused momentarily. "But above all, misbehaving with or disobeying Mommy, who looks after you all day long and loves you all so much, will earn you a talk with me from now on" they visibly shuddered at the thought. 

Johnny clapped his hands in a concluding manner now. "So I advise we all be good from now and respect her" then his stern tone changed to a more heartfelt one. "Because we can seriously hurt her if we're not careful" you softly pouted and squeezed his shoulders a little, feeling a bit conscious of your differences all of a sudden. "Now you guys don't want to hurt your Mama, do you?" The way they vehemently shook their little heads at once made your heart swell and you cooed, forgetting all about your momentary insecurity.

"No, Mommy!" Torus and Sonny reassured you. 

"We love you so much!" Axel, being the most emotionally intelligent one, looked nearly concerned. 

"Never wanna hurt you, Mama" Jacqui's earnest words made your heart melt and you were enveloping her in your arms before you knew it. 

"Oh, sweetie. I know you don't" kissing her forehead, you reached for Sonny as he was making grabby hands for you from beside her. And before you knew it, Axel and Torus came rushing to you from across the table, the bunch wrapping around you as kisses and reassurances were showered on you. 

Though you couldn't see it, Johnny was smiling at the sight before him with pure adoration in his eyes as your giggles rang in the kitchen that had been witness to nearly every sound of your lives.

Disagreements, chatter, laughter, cries, make ups, retches, moans, coos, wails, chuckles and love. 

Pure, concentrated, genuine, tender, ever-strong, unconditional love. 

"SUPERHUMAN SANDWICH!" As Johnny did his loud and deep monster voice before jumping up to collect Bree in his arms to collapse on you all to create a tangle of limbs, you craned your neck backwards to look up at his billion dollar smile. Your husband's laughter mixed with that of your kids as you held them tight, feeling your heart swell but only momentarily since you had to break into a series of alarmed shrieks when he turned the sandwich into a tickle fight.

Yes, your family was a fireball of superhuman menace. 

But the chaos made them who they were. 

Yours. 

And there was not a thing you'd change about it.

[raphael-angele]

Sports the Teen Justice Characters Would Be Good At

Besides martial arts, Talia would be good at horseback riding. C’mon, is this really a surprise? She loves fighting and martial arts but she loves animals more. Talia is known in horseback racing as a rich kid niche but even out of the track, she loves to take care of the horses before and after the race. The team (besides Laurel) finds out about her skill in this when they went to Laurel’s farm house and Talia went straight to the stables to get the black horse the Kent family got for she who she named Chiroptera, which is the scientific name for bats.

As we’ve already seen in the Super Sons comics, Laurel is good at soccer. It was early on when the team found out about this since she suggested they play it as a team building exercise. What they didn’t count on was that she gets her competitiveness from Talia. Klarienne, Talia, and Laurel were up against Troy, Jess, and Jacqui. The other three thought they had an advantage since Jess is a speedster but then again, Superman can move as fast as Flash. It ended with Troy getting a sprained wrist, Jess got bruised on both legs and Jacqui got stiff muscles on her back. They got better and Laurel was extremely distant and apologetic for the next week.

Klarienne, as we know it, loves baseball. I don’t know why this is and I don’t care, it’s adorable. She just wants to play baseball with her team. Jacqui, let her play baseball now that you have Raven on the team. Nonetheless, the first time they played baseball and Klarienne volunteered to be batter/hitter and ended up hitting the ball too high up, it burned when it reached the ground. They looked at her and she was just smiling innocently. At the time, Jess was on the team and they were like, “Oh, we’re gonna win, not because we’re good, but because I’m scared to see what happens if we don’t”.

Troy is basketball. This is the reason I made this post. The latest issue implied that there was a sport similar to it and even if he wont admit it, he’s good at basketball. He also suggested they play this as a team building exercise. They’d often play three on three but with Raven now, they had to pick one member to be referee and it would often be either Klari or Raven. There are times though that Troy would want to challenge himself and suggest that they’d play 6v1. So far, they’ve only defeated him twice. 

Track and field aside, Jess likes to skateboard. I don’t know why, I just feel like they would. I think they like the fact that they don’t have to run everywhere at every time and skateboarding was the easiest excuse they could give to people when they ask how they’re so fast to get to somewhere. So they actually taught themselves how to use it and learned quickly. The team found out about this when Laurel suggested they go to the skate park and Jess was more than excited to try out their newest skateboard. 

Besides swimming, Jacqui is good at darts. She isn’t so good with archery no matter how much training Talia or Troy teach her, it’s not cut out for her. Talia thought of something and realized she’s used to using her spear and thought she could be good at darts since she’d have better control over it. She started with darts and the team gifted her with new ones that were designed to look like her spear. Talia didn’t tell anyone in the team but she told Jacqui that the darts were designed to release a toxin once it hits something/someone even if it’s just a graze. (Like the blade in the shoe in Kingsman)

Raven is great at ice skating and you cannot change my mind. I just love the idea of Raven, who is always so quiet and unsocial and mysterious adds more mystery to his life and shows how natural he is when it comes to ice skating. The team found out during the winter and one of them suggested they go ice skating in the city park’s frozen lake. While everyone was hesitant to step into the ice, Raven just skates in and does his own thing. The team just watches him and Troy is in awe because he’s head over heels for this boy and loves how graceful and unbotheredly happy he looks. When he skates over to them, they just stare and he’s like, “What? I like to ice skate.”

[mrstsung]

Raiden self ship dialogue/intros

Here is some raiden self ship dialogue.

Because I'm having feels for raiden rn. Like unf. Thunder take me. 💙⚡😫

Cw: may have angst,nsfw,fluff,etc.

💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙

Raiden: You have improved very much since we last sparred

Me: well i did learn from the best

Raiden: true,but you've overcome so much. That was on your doing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: i know when you wish to ask me something,out with it

Me: Do you ever think about... us rai?

Raiden: every day that passes darling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me: the clouds are dark again raiden,do you need to talk?

Raiden: this is something that i can't discuss with you

Me: Don't give me that rai,you know better

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: *blushes* do you really need to spar with me in that garment?

Me: Like what you see god of thunder?

Raiden: Very much,but i worry of others gazes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: lovely as the day i first met you

Me: it was raining that day

Raiden: yes,it was beautiful wasn't it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: You honestly shouldn't challenge me

Me: afraid i might win this time master rai?

Raiden: no,i have no doubts on winning. I just wish for you not to hurt yourself blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: playing with thunder isn't very wise

Me: that's not what you said last night

Raiden: I was holding back my dear

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me: do you really have giant drums?

Raiden: i do, but i hide them from fujin

Me: *chuckles* that's adorable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: you are the sunshine through life's storms my beloved

Me: and i would be at your side through all of them

Raiden: As i darling,as also i.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: must you be like this?

Me: how else am i supposed to get better?

Raiden: *sigh* very well,if you insist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: push me again,see where this gets you my love

Me: don't tempt me then *sticks tounge out playfully*

Raiden: didn't say i warned you *smiles*

⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡

Other characters dialogue:

Fujin: I'm very relieved to see my brother smile again

Me: he didn't before?

Fujin: he did,but not as bright as he does now

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Johnny cage: I knew it

Me: *annoyed* what johnny?

Johnny cage: Raiden does got a girl,kung lao owes me big time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kung lao: there was a big storm with thunder rolling pretty loud. You guys weren't?....you know?

Me: *embarrassed* you heard that?!

Kung lao: I was joking! You guys really were?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liu kang: I am honored by your presence,lady thunder

Me: liu kang please,don't think of me as any different than before because raiden is my husband.

Liu kang: still to love a god. It deserves respect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassie: you guys make such a cute couple

Me: thank you Cassandra. I very much appreciate that.

Cassie: so.....when can i be the cool auntie?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jax: so you n the thunder god huh? Always had a feeling

Me: Just so you know,you are very much an honor guest at our ceremony

Jax: I'll be there,after our spar. Just dont mess the tux too bad

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacqui: its so cute.

Me: what is jaqueline?

Jacqui: when you can make the stern and composed raiden lose his cool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shang tsung: having second thoughts beautiful?

Me: Not a chance of a thousand hells shang tsung.

Shang tsung: too bad raiden could never give you what i could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shao kahn: Raiden is a fool of a god to send you to challenge me

Me: If you wish to take our realm,come claim it!

Shao kahn: with pleasure

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erron black: So you're the god of thunders wife? My aren't you a beaut.

Me: beautiful,but very much deadly

Erron black: oh i bet on that honey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kano: What's ol thunder got that i don't got?

Me: for one dignity,mortality and manners,second a better sense of humor

Kano: hey i know my way around a joke or two love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shang tsung: came here because raiden wasn't giving enough affection?

Me: I'm here to release the souls you've stolen.

Shang tsung: You'll have to come claim them then my dear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sindel: raiden,your husband. Was dark once

Me: so are many storms. But that one passed.

Sindel: Yes,and it can form again so very easy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kotal kahn: I heard raiden trained you?

Me: care to test me?

Kotal kahn: He has chosen well in a wife.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanzo Hasashi/scorpion: You are more then welcome to always seek refuge here lady of thunder

Me: thank you grandmaster. My husband and i are ever grateful and honored by you.

Hanzo Hasashi/scorpion: The honor is mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon. 

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet. 

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

[xkitcharmont]

♛┈⛧┈┈•༶      NEXT GEN  : GERI’S BIO

!! full factsheet HERE ( includes connections and more general info )

full name. marguerite danielle gatel charmont faceclaim. olivia scott welch age. 25 dob. 14 august zodiac. leo occupation. rockstar, knight, whatever

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

long dirty blonde hair kept either wild and loose, or in a ponytail or braids

she is the ONLY ulstead-charmont with abs. and she KNOWS it.

she got lean muscle arms too :// my rock-climbing girl

5’ 7" (1.7 m)

> geri’s notes:

it is SO important to me that everyone knows she is:

lindsay lohan in freaky friday

viola hastings from she’s the man

gracie hart from miss congeniality

she keeps a switch-dagger on her at all times and knows how to use it so beware

all she knows is the present. she likes her family, she likes her friends, she likes to play music LOUD 

she likes to smoke pot; she’s the one who brought it to her siblings lmao. geri screamed and cheered so loud when jacqui showed her she already knew all this come on. and they both had to teach marcel. they are so close as siblings i cry

she wears her heart on her sleeve. she’s had her heart broken a lot of times before, but never as much as the BIG BREAKUP (still an open wanted connection >.>)

since then, she’s gone back into dating but very casually. she doesn’t want to commit to anyone anymore (at least for now)

she depends a little too much on jacqui’s guidance and the guidance of her older cousins and other people she trusts. she’s very much a follower rather than someone who makes decisions for herself, and this is something she has to work on

> geri’s bio:

Geri never took kindly to being bullied about ‘not being a real princess’. Similar to her older sister, whom she adored, she felt very belittled and small in primary school but found her footing in high school. When Kit first started to get to know her, he walked around the whole castle with her in his arms, asking her what she was interested in. What would you like to do Marguerite? And as soon as she saw the room full of soldiers practicing fencing, she knew.

Whenever her siblings needed a spider taken cared of, Geri was there. Whenever someone shoved Marcel into a locker, Geri shoved them back even harder. She loved to play in the mud and get caught in the rain and skin her knee during rock-climbing. She was on the school’s lacrosse team, and the fencing team, and trained with the royal knights as early as she could. She loved the idea of wearing armour, saving people in distress, and the praise of being a hero. As she grew in high school, she also realised she loved playing in a band, and learned how to be the most badass rockstar (lead guitar) in France. So there she was: the rockstar-knight-princess of Ulstead.

Still, she struggled. Marcel was always the one who was able to communicate his feelings easier. She trusted her family, but had learned from a young age that bad people only targeted you if you were seen as weak. She never really processed all her childhood trauma properly, from her parents’ death in the fire, to being bullied in school. Like her brother, she still feels that she needs to prove herself worthy of being a Charmont. So she hardly talks about her struggles — choosing instead to repress it or to smoke pot as a way to calm herself. (There’s an unspoken agreement between the Ulstead-Charmonts that they never talk about this to their father, as even Jacqui partakes in it a little. Marcel vowed to stop all vices when he got into law school).

All the Ulstead-Charmonts feel a strong sense of responsibility, that they want to do something with their lives. Jacqui’s going to be queen, Marcel’s a lawyer, so what was Geri to do? She’ll let you know when she finds out. For now, she’s finishing her studies at Walt Uni, she’s wicked with a sword, and a dazzling gay rockstar knight in shiny-ish armour.

[jt-artsandfics]

Hello! Everything ok? I've been thinking about this for a while, but what do you think hanzo would do, his lover tells him that she can revive his son, and when she revives him satoshi loves her as his mother, how do you think he would react? THANK YOU! 🥰

So I'm making the reader based off Misty Day from American Horror story only that her abilities can bring people back even if it's only using the essence of what is left of their soul. It's very draining but she can still accomplish it.

Gifs are not mine I just use them as headers.

Bakeneko

Hanzo had suffered a great many things, the lost of the Shirai Ryu, his wife, his son and his own life.

Now Hanzo is trying to move on. He has reformed the Shirai Ryu, and has over come his rage. Befriend a man he once would have killed due to his clan. And he fell in love again.

Something he never thought was possible. Her touch is gentle like a soft breeze, voice like silk. She has become a treasure to him, someone he wishes never to lose.

They had met while he was still Scorpion, she had been wondering the forest, the fauna flocks to her. She stands there staring him down as birds perch on her shoulders.

And in the blink of his eyes she's gone again. At first he did not pay mind of her, it wasn't until he meets her again after he rebuild the Shirai Ryu.

Takeda had disappeared into the forest and Hanzo was looking for him hoping that nothing had happened Chujin.

Takeda stood with the same woman he had seen so long ago. Tears in his eyes as he holds a small kitten. Her hands move gentle thought the kittens mangled fur.

He moves quickly in hopes that his student isn't hurt. But he stops midway. The gore of the small animal catches his attention. He realises that is why Takeda is crying.

The young boy has a gentle Heart, animals were something that he loved and he hated seeing them hurt.

The woman in the dress with necklaces ringing almost like wind chimes. Her hands cover the small animal his his Chujin's hands.

A small meow is made after she removes her hands, the kittens bright blue eyes are wide awake as it begins to move again. Takeda is in awe but Hasashi Hanzo stands in fear of the creature nesr his student.

But the same as before within the blink of his eyes she was gone. Almost like she became one with the mist in the grove.

The first time they had truly met and exchanged names was when Lord Raiden along with, Jax, Cassie Cage, Johnny and Jacqui. Another face he knows stand amongst the crowd.

She stands there older but still looking as she had many times before.

She had brought him back from scorpion and that is how they became close. She had worn herself out keeping those alive that she could. And bring back those who were needed desperately.

bakeneko that's what she reminded him of, with her abilities to raise the dead from thier slumber, to bring forth a small army of the undead.

She is level headed when needed and playful whnshe wishes but the thing that drew in to her. Is how gentle she is.

Not just with him but everyone. Lord Raiden and lord Fujin had known her since she was a child, yet she was not one to the monks, Cassie met her when she walked back in wirh her mother by her side, Not an easy feat.

Yet now she lays in his arms fingers running thought his hair as it cascades over his face. A smile graces his lips and she smiles back. Their body's tangled on his bed, soft kisses and whispers are exchanged.

Soft hands that rest against the scars of his past, she has helped him in many ways. And he has done the same for her.

"Hanzo.. I. I have something I wish to talk to you about" his eyes flick to her. They are both sat meditating when she speaks up. "bakeneko, of course. Speak your mind" he says moving to sit facing her.

She is quiet again her eyes flicking to him. "I... I found something while wondering the gardens, and I know who he is. And I must ask. Would you wish for me to bring your son back"

It hits hard almost like he had just been shot thought the stomach. They are quiet again before he speaks. "Tsubaki, I could not ask that of you, you have already done more then enough for everyone. I am content" he says. She can hear the pain in his voice, she places her hand agaisnt his face bringing him into a lightly kiss.

"Hanzo, I can bring him back but onyl if you wish it. I do not wish to put you thought more pain but. I found his sprirt and I can restore him. But I will only if you say yes" she whispers agaisnt his lips.

Yes please...

It has now been a little over a three months since his sweet Tsubaki brought his son back into the waking world.

His eyes follow them as he plays with her. Animals flocking around her once again a smile is on his son's face. They move around the grounds laughing and playing together.

"She's beautiful, and he enjoys being around her" a voice says from behind him, hanzo turns around to be meet with his Chujin, Takeda.

"I do not think I've every seen him this happy since before... everything. I am happy to have them both, as much as I miss Harumi, I feel she would be happy that I have finally moved on from my rage" Hanzo says eyes focusing back on his son and his lover.

"Otōsan!, Otōsan!" Satoshi calls out to his father as he waves too him from his spot on the young woman's shoulders. Hanzo smiles and waves back to them both.

"I know I've said this already but, marry her. You already live with her, you lover her and she is adores Satoshi. Make it official Hasashi Sensei" Takeda replys. Hanzo let's out a soft sigh. He has a ring for her, but just hadn't worked up the courage to ask her.

His Bakeneko had put his son to sleep tonight, she had read him stories of her home lands and told him more of her story.

Hanzo stands at the door watching her place a kiss to his Satoshi's forehead. "Sleep well firefly" she whispers lightly.

Hanzo takes her hand gentle leading her outside of the room. They stand together for a little. "Satoshi wishes to see his uncle Kuai" she chuckles lightly earning a smile from Hanzo.

"Then I am sure we can organize for him to come visit again" he says lightly. "I wish to show you something" he says holding his lovers hand and leading her outside.

They walk thought the fire garden, a lightly breeze makes it's way thought the trees. "Close your eyes Tsubaki I wish for this to be a supise" he says lightly. She does as he ask closing her eyes.

"Before this i wish to say, I man so very blessed to have you in my life, you have given me amother chance at my life but not only that, another chance to be a father to my child. He adores you and I also love you very much. And I now wish to ask. Will you marry me" her eyes shoot open to stare at her lover, tears forming in her eyes and she nods and pulls him close.

Yes!

She almost cries out in joy pulling him into a kiss.

For once Hasashi Hanzo had finally found his peace and quiet with his second love and his son.

---------

Tsubaki- Japanese camellia

Otōsan- father

bakeneko- (cat spirit)

Small summary of Bakeneko: speaking human words, cursing humans, manipulating dead people, possessing humans, which cats that were killed by humans in a brutal manner would become bakeneko and curse that human

[whatamidoingwithmylifeman]

Mortal Kombat

The first character I first fell in love with: Quan Chi. His deep voice got me

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Liu Kang. Seriously. Never thought I would, but he's grown on me.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: I feel Kotal Kahn would fit, however my disliking of him, has to do more with the way the teams set up his scenes. Like from the MK X comics, he was all like, "listen, Outworld wants nothing to do with Shinnok's amulet. So take that shit with you." But then in the game he was like, 'wHeN oUtWoRlD wAs OfFeReD nO pArTiCaPaTiOn-" or whatever, and it's like, "uh excuse me. Did.. did you just really forget what the fuck you said back there?" And then in MK 11, chapter 2, it's like the writing team for that game, didn't pay attention or even play MK X. AND ONE OF THEM WAS THE GUY WHO HELPED MAKE THE MK X COMICS! KITTELSEN! WHAT THE FUCK!

I have met a good chunk of people that don't like Kotal, so I am iffy. I don't think I have a character that I don't like, that everyone else likes.

Well, Stryker maybe. I just, I don't fucking like him. I did not see a reason for his character to be there. Like, at all. Nor did I see why the NYPD (in the game) had to be a thing when SF was already there.

The character I love that everyone else hates: I wanna say Quan Chi, Shinnok, and Cetrion. I feel like those 3, while not really hated per say, they're definitely not well liked. I also like, Daegon, Taven, and Mavado. IDK how people feel about them, but I feel like it's not all that positive.

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Uh, none that I can think of. Kano is on thin ice though. Like, he's getting there. NGL

The character I would totally smooch: Shinnok. Hands down.

The character I’d want to be like: None that I can think of

The character I’d slap: if MK 11 wasn't out, and I knew nothing about the comics, I would say Sonya. But only because of how she treated Cassie in the game. However, MK 11 is out, and I do know (and have read) about the comics, then I would have to say Cetrion. Look, I love her. I adore her. She is the soft light of my life. My baby. My darling. My sweet pumpkin cake. (I mean this all platonically, btw) So know that when I say this, I do so with the utmost love and care for this Elder Goddess. Her mommy's girl shtick pissed me the fuck off. So does Mileena's daddy's girl shtick. Like, honestly? I'd slap em both. Just for those reasons. I don't give a shit if I cut my hand on Mileena's teeth. I'll slap the fucking shit out of her.

A pairing that I love: canon wise; Liutana, CageBlade, Jakeda(Jacqui x Takeda), and Taleena. I love those. fanon wise; Jade x Kitana, SubScrop, SubSmoke, Shinnok x Quan Chi, and Sektor x Cyrax. (although I feel like it's just me, @honeycyrax, and @yuvononik who ship them soooooooo.... what's up, ya'll wanna start a club?) Also, thanks to @maddenedroses ,Skano is growing on me. (even if Kano is on thin ice-)

A pairing that I despise: let's get the elephant out of the room; incest ships.

Canon wise; Jade x Kotal Kahn and Sindel x Shao Kahn.

Fanon wise, (oh I'm gonna have fun with the notes after this): Scorpion x Mileena, Shang Tsung x Quan Chi, and Shinnok x Raiden are 3 I hate with every fiber in my being. In fact, the last ship mentioned in that list just back my blood boil and bones crack.

and to those who love those 3 ships and wants to start shit over them; FIGHT ME IN A RURAL KING PARKING LOT!

[newtonsheffield]

*clears throat* Ahhh no one asked for these, but I goaded @aspoonfuloffiction with them, and now they won't leave me alone. which I suppose I deserve. So ahh... Here's hot stay at home dad Gregory ft.Lucy feeling a little thirsty.

Gregory had been waiting to be able to do this costume, for a very long time. 6 years in fact, And Daphne and Anthony had flatly refused to let him use their children for it. But now he had his own baby And even Lucy had found it very hard to deny that Katie, all of three weeks old at her first Halloween, would look very adorable in what he had planned. The picture of Gregory smiling broadly, in his Mandalorian armor, helmet tucked under one arm, Katie in a Grogu costume in the other, ends up going a little viral from Lucy's instagram post. Lucy takes great delight in responding to some of the thirstier comments left on it with You're not wrong. The picture is the wallpaper on Lucy's phone for a very long time. And Lucy is a little annoyed that she hasn't yet been given the OK by the doctor for a more...vigorous appreciation of Gregory's costume.

It wasn't a secret that Lucy found her husband ridiculously attractive. What was surprising though was how much more attractive he seemed to be to her when he was holding their tiny baby. There shouldn't be anything sexually charged about her husband laying on the couch, their daughter on his stomach watching a movie. And yet... and yet... Lucy couldn't take her eyes off it. And now Obi Wan's going to zjooom Gregory said making a lightsaber noise in time with the television, swinging their daughter's arm in time with the noise. And he looked so happy, his hair rumpled, his stupidly adorable wire rimmed (Dad spectacles he called them) askew from Katie grabbing at them earlier, his tshirt stretched tight across his chest and arms bearing the words Yoda One for Me and god help her she just couldn't take it, heat rising to her cheeks. Greg it's time for Katie to take a nap. Gregory looked up a little startled Luce, can we please just finish Attack of the cl-? Lucy sighed Gregory you look ridiculously attractive to me at the moment are you going to keep questioning or let me take my clothes off for you? Gregory is off the sofa and up the stairs before Lucy can blink.

When Katie started preschool, Lucy had noticed that the other mothers had a certain... reaction to Gregory. She saw the way they eyed him when he bent to pick up Katie, roaring happily as his daughter giggled at being hoisted onto her father's shoulders, saw the way they cooed over the baby strapped to him, and Lucy really couldn't blame them but the poor Man had no idea. He'd never really had any grasp on just how attractive he was, how his cheeky smirk had made her heart want to burst out of her chest to get to him and now he had absolutely no idea that volunteering to go on field trips and baking for the class, and standing outside the school expertly fixing their daughter's hair was like catnip to women. And again, Lucy couldn't blame them, when she saw Gregory with their children, so happy and content to just be with the family they ha made together, it simultaneously made her heart beat out of her chest and do very filthy things to him. But that didn't stop the savage pride she felt when Gregory was called over to a group of giggling women at a PTA function, and he tugged her by the arm smiling charmingly and said Ladies, How are we today? Have you met my wife Lucy? Now you finally see why Katie's so beautiful! and the women eyed her despondently, smiles tight with a quick Hi and no, Lucy's not proud of the quite demonstrative kiss she gives him after he makes a rather impassioned speech about why they should be supporting girls in STEM. Well, Maybe A little.

And yes, on more than one occasion Lucy has caught the expectant looks that their range rover gets when she pulls into the car park. The mother's fluttering around to see the new baby only for them to visibly deflate when she steps out. Ugh save your energy Jacqui, It's Mrs. Bridgerton today Stephanie Green said and Lucy couldn't hold back her smirk as she said Don't worry Ladies, My husband will be back tomorrow, and he's bringing shortbread. And as she left she heard Jacqui mutter God she's a lucky bitch.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley in the U.K.

JEFF BUCKLEY loved British music; the nervous energy in British punk, the wired consciousness of the Clash, the way Siouxsie and the Banshees went from gun-metal moodiness to skies full of fireworks.

He adored the Cocteau Twins, of course, especially Liz Fraser's "impossible voice". He loved how the Smiths called to outsiders and nerds. He loved the textures of Johnny Marr's supple guitar and the mordant presence of Steve Jones's guitar in the Sex Pistols.

Jeff, whose own nervous energy was considerable, became even more wired whenever we went to the UK; he was stimulated by its variety. He also appreciated its compactness – the lack of eight-hour drives between cities was refreshing.

Sony had passed on Live at Sin-é in Europe. We were understandably disappointed, but there was a solution close at hand: Steve Abbott, known to everyone as Abbo, who ran the eccentric indie record label Big Cat and had picked up on many of the promising un-signed bands playing in New York: Pavement, Mercury Rev, Luscious Jackson. He had approached Jeff after Gods & Monsters and Sin-é shows and asked him if he'd like to record with Big Cat, but then Sony stepped in. Jeff felt that he owed Abbo a record, so when Columbia UK passed on Live at Sin-é and Michele Anthony instigated a funding deal with Big Cat, it seemed the perfect opportunity for them to become involved. Abbo jumped at the chance.

Big Cat's small team – Abbo, co-owner Linda Obadiah, Frank Neidlich in marketing, and Jacqui Rice in press – did such a good job that the week it was released in Europe, Live at Sin-é sold over four thousand copies, which was amazing for a complete unknown.

After a Sony conference, where it was clear that a lot of the affiliates were bemused by him, Jeff had a warm-up show at Whelan's in Dublin. By the time he came on, the crowd, several drinks into its evening, had become a little boisterous. Jeff said hello softly, as usual, but no one was really paying attention. Jeff just stood there, waiting. People started to quieten down and watch to see what he would do. There was a pint of his favourite beer, Guinness, sitting on the stool next to him. Jeff lifted the glass to his lips and downed it in one hit. Everyone on the room cheered, and he began the Irish show with the crowd completely on his side.

The audience was more blasé the next night at his London debut at The Borderline, a Western-themed venue under a dubious Mexican diner in Soho, right in the heart of London, a group of local reps for hip American indie labels like Sub Pop and Merge yacking away rather disrespectfully at the bar. In the age of grunge, a lone guy with a guitar softly singing Edith Piaf covers was baffling for some.

"It was an epiphany for me," says Sara Silver, Sony's European head of marketing. "There are some shows where it just feels like you're a voyeur, looking into someone's soul. This was one of those. He was charismatic, but also haunting, and I think because of my particular situation at the time, still suffering from the [loss of my husband], he resonated hugely. This haunting sound was a powerful force, and it was my job to work out how we took it to the world."

A gig the next night in Glasgow meant an early-morning flight back to Heathrow the following morning to catch a session with GLR, London's local BBC station, a slot designed to alert people to the next couple of gigs at the Garage in Islington and at Bunjies, a cute little basement folk club in Central London that dated back to the early 1960s and made Sin-é seem generously proportioned.

Abbo was accompanying Jeff on this run.

"We'd meet regularly at a bar called Tom & Jerry's in New York, hang out and drink Guinness together," Abbo says, "I suppose I became a friend of his, and he didn't seem to have many real friends. I'd only discovered I liked the blues since living in New York, so it was great hanging with him, because he was a huge blues and jazz fan and if there was a guitar around he had to pick it up and show off. He knew every Robert Johnson song, every Muddy Waters tune, Bessie Smith; he introduced me to the physicality of the blues, watching it at close quarters. Everybody talks about his voice, but he was a brilliant guitarist. The guitar was an extension of his body.

"Tim Buckley hadn't really entered my line of vision growing up listening to black music. Singer-songwriters with fluffy hairstyles were not currency on my council estate in Luton! We were in Tom & Jerry's and someone said to Jeff, 'I've been listening to your dad,' and I said, 'Who's your dad?' and he said, 'Tim Buckley.' I knew the name from record shopping; I'd seen the sleeves in the racks, but that's it. But when he came over to Britain there were loads of Tim Buckley fans. And it was a real problem early on, because he really didn't like talking about him."

The traffic from the airport to the GLR studios just off Baker Street was awful. A road accident had slowed everything to a standstill. Jeff's slot on the mid-morning show was fast approaching. "Of course, this was before mobile phones, so I had no way of communicating with the radio station that we were stuck in traffic," says Abbo. "For the last few days on this tour, everyone who'd interviewed Jeff had been asking about his dad. How did Tim write 'Song To The Siren'? Was there stuff in his lyrics that he might have related to? Things Jeff couldn't answer.

"We were listening to GLR while we waited in traffic and the presenter kept saying, 'We're supposed to have this artist, Tim Buckley's son, turning up, but he's late....Will he or won't he turn up?' This went on and on. She must have said 'Tim Buckley's son' about four times and didn't mention Jeff once. Suddenly, he just kicked my car radio in with his big DMs [Doc Martens], just smashed the fascia and then sat back sulking all the way there. I could get another radio, of course, but I was mostly worried he wasn't going to do the performance. 

"We finally arrived about forty minutes late and they were all so rude to us, and yet they knew what the problem was, as they were broadcasting traffic updates and warnings of delays themselves. If I were him, I'd have walked out. The female presenter was a typical local radio DJ, a bit gushy and knew nothing about him and his music. I had a word with the station manager to ask her to stop mentioning Tim Buckley, and he handed her a note to that effect. Jeff just sat there silently and she said, 'What are you going to play?' and Jeff said, 'A song.' I'm thinking, 'Oh god, here we go.' And he started to play "Grace." He did this long guitar introduction, went on for about a minute, like he needed to calm himself down before he got to the actual start of the song, and then he launched into the most electrifying performance. The best I ever heard him do it.

"There were about six phones in the control room, and they all started lighting up. 'Who is this? Who is this? It's amazing!' And all the time, Jeff's getting more and more into it. The presenter went from being this standoffish woman to...I swear she would have thrown herself on him given half a chance, the second he finished singing. You could see she was totally enthralled."

Presenter: "You looked quite exhausted at the end of the song."

Jeff: "I was getting a lot of anger out. Something happened on the way here..."

"The phones didn't stop throughout the next song. The station manager said that in all his twelve years at the station, he'd never seen a reaction like it."

Abbo thinks this performance sparked Jeff's breakthrough. There were certainly plenty of people in line outside the Garage in North London that night. Inside, the first stars were taking note. Chrissie Hynde and Jon McEnroe were in the audience. Chrissie had been a big fan and a friend of Tim's, had actually interviewed him while she was briefly a music journalist with the NME, and she was obviously curious to see how his offspring compared. They struck up a conversation after the show and she clearly said the right thing, because he went off with her to jam with the Pretenders in a nearby rehearsal room. I wasn't carrying anything heavy because of a recent lung collapse, and I didn't want Jeff to pull any important muscles, so I asked McEnroe if he wouldn't mind. He happily hauled Jeff's amp downstairs to the car. The Pretenders' jam with special guests Buckley and Mac went on all night.

Bunjies, as I've said, was tiny, a basement folk club and coffee bar on West Street in Soho, along from the Ivy, with gingham tablecloths and melted candles in wine bottles on the tables and a performance area tucked into a couple of arches in what must have been a wine cellar at one point. It looked unchanged since it had begun in the early 1960s, and had seen a couple of folk booms come and go. It was more of a cafe with an open-mic policy by this point, which felt like a good place for Jeff. There wasn't really any need for amplification, so when we arrived for a sound check there was very little to do but see where Jeff was going to stand in the cramped space and gauge how his voice reflected off the nicotine-stained ceilings. While Jeff did that, I went outside for some fresh air and was stunned to see a line of people already waiting to get into the show.

I took a look at the guest list and realised we'd be lucky to fit twenty of this assembling crowd in the tiny space. Every time I looked up, the line was getting further down West Street. I went back into the venue and found Jeff talking to Emma Banks, the agent. He was saying how great the venue was and that he'd like to do something like hand out flowers to everyone before he went on.

"Jesus, you won't believe what's happening out there," I said to them. "The line goes about four blocks. There's no way these people are going to get in. Is there any way we can do two sets?" Jeff was happy to. Emma spoke to the club owner and was told they had some regular club night happening later on. She came back and said, "They can't do it but I've had an idea!" She disappeared up the steps onto the street, and I spoke to Jeff.

"What flowers would you like?"

"White roses," he said.

"I'll get them," I said, and went back up to the street, where the line had grown even longer.

I walked around looking for a florist and bumped into Emma. "I've booked Andy's Forge," she said. "It's a little place just around the corner in Denmark Street. He can go on at 10:30."

I bought as many white roses as I could find. Jeff handed them to people waiting outside and those lucky enough to get into the club, as he squeezed himself into the corner that passed for a stage. He sang upward, listening to his voice reflect off the curved ceiling into this hot, crowded, and attentive space. There must have been a hundred people stuffed in there.

When the show was over, Jeff walked up the steps to the huddle of patient people that Emma had gathered, plus anyone from the first show who wanted to tag along, and led this crowd like the Pied Piper toward Andy's Forge. Abbo was alongside me. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" I said.

"Never!" he said. And we laughed liked idiots at the wonderful absurdity of hanging out with Jeff.

Jim Irvin, 'From Hallelujah to the Last Goodbye' (Post Hill), May 2018

Excerpted from Jeff Buckley: From Hallelujah to the Last Goodbye by Jeff's former manager Dave Lory and former MOJO man Jim Irvin (Post Hill Press).

[vampiresuns]

Corazón Ardiente

2.3k words. Preparing themselves to cross the Strait of Sirens, the crew of The Jagged Ruby runs into another pirate ship. Alternative, in which Julianus makes an unlikely friend. Contains 🍋

The crew of The Jagged Ruby and El Corazón Sangrante, such as Captain Rodrigo and his Quartermaster Jacqui, belong to @apprenticealec​. You can also check their map and lore about the Strait of Sirens here.​

This is the opening part of Part VI of Secrets of An Ancient Moon Series. Part VI will be divided in three parts: Corazón Ardiente, Corazón Sufriente and Corazón Sangrante.

Want to read more of these series? You can find it’s masterpost here.

This part also introduces the fictional country of ‘Altazor’, a latino fictional country where Julianus is from — other Alzoreño characters in my fictional universe are Louisa De Silva and her son: Aelius Anatole Radošević.

It wasn’t too long past the break of dawn when Jules heard the door open, making the sea breeze from outside enter the room. Its coolness made them bury themselves a little further into the sheets, though they kept enough of their head above the covers to peek an eye open. Saoirse’s outline closed the door of their quarters, making the door click behind them.

Jules yawned, sitting up on the bed, holding the covers up only for the sake of warmth. Saoirse smiled at them. 

“Did I wake you up?”

“No,” they said as they stretched. “What were you doing?”

“Feeding Marcius for you.” Saoirse paused, as if unsure of what to do next. “Do you want me to go back to bed with you, or are you alright? It’s still too early for anything to happen… Meredith is not awake yet.”

Jules patted the side of the bed next to them, but Saoirse hesitated again. 

“What is it?”

“Should I join you with or without clothes?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“What you want, what I may want. I could just go back to sleep, you were a wonderful pillow,” they smiled; Saoirse thought they looked adorable with a bedhead and a sleepy smile on their face. “But I also wouldn’t mind not going back to sleep, if that’s what you were wondering.”

The Quartermaster licked their own lips, a distinctively human gesture. J. C. couldn’t help but wonder where, or who, they had picked it up from. They wondered about all such mannerisms in them, marvelling at the entity standing before them. As Saoirse took their shirt off, they asked them why they were looking at them like that. 

Julianus shrugged. “Aren’t you a curious entity?” 

“Care to tell me why?” Saoirse asked as they got back in bed. They faced Julianus, tucking their mussed up hair behind one of their ears. “I don’t think there’s anything particularly curious about this, us.”

“No, not us,” Jules paused to kiss the corner of their mouth. “I just find it wonderfully delightful that someone such as you would choose to model themself after beings such as humans. You’re so alike us in our lack of similarities.” 

Saoirse huffed through their nose. An undecipherable gesture that made Jules wonder if they did such things on purpose, or if they naturally to them. They didn’t ask however, allowing Saoirse space if they needed any. As their presence began acquiring that incomprehensible, vast feeling it often had, their eyes wandered all over them. However, Julianus no longer found it strange. Even if it prickled at them, they had learnt to find it comforting. 

That was Saoirse, their Saoirse. 

Neither of them should’ve been surprised they ended up having sex again. Why or who began it they didn’t know, nor they cared. Saoirse wanted to make use of Jules’ word that along with nights there would be mornings, and other moments, wanting to file away their many moods — both Jules’ and their own, and theirs as something which went together. Jules just wanted, simple as that. The day hadn’t begun yet, and given they weren’t nearly as quick as Saoirse was with their own tasks, not having had centuries to grow accustomed to them (as well as generally having a better capacity to finish tasks in one go). They weren’t going to pass on the opportunity to have the Quartermaster for themself just a little longer.

The distant but growing sound of drums had other plans, however. 

Saoirse went still, getting out of bed as they claimed Meredith would not be happy about this. They moved across their quarters as if nothing had interrupted them, stopping only when J. C. cleared their throat. They look vaguely irritated.

“If you could explain—“ 

Saoirse turned with a reassuring smile, telling them it was nothing of importance, just something Meredith wouldn’t like. It didn’t require Julianus, so Saoirse told them to feel free to dress at their leisure. Before they could dwell a moment longer, however, they were gone. 

Right, duty called. Now alone, Julianus set themself on getting ready, though it took them a moment to stir themselves into leaving the bed. They resigned themselves to their fate fast rather than slowly. At least the drumming, whatever its source, provided a nice ambience sound for it. It was energetic, like a Murga inviting Jules to join.

A Murga… when was the last time they had witnessed one? They must’ve been 17, 18 at most. Ten years was a long time, though sitting in bed to float over the waters of nostalgia wouldn’t get them anywhere, as tempting as it was, they knew better now, with time. Though the memories remained, they began moving. Sometimes, one had to sit with the discomfort and carry on — it’s lessons would come eventually.

A quick splash to their face, a scrub, some basic skin care, underwear, pants, a shirt, earrings and shoes. Only which ones? Meredith being otherwise occupied meant they had a little more time to dwell on their appearance, and Julianus used every extra moment they had. They didn’t have any breakfast duties that week, they could indulge. They settled on a pair of knee high lace ups, standing on one foot to adjust them. 

As they tried to keep their balance, a soft knock came from the other side of the door. They stumbled forward, clinging onto a small table in order not to fall. With the rattle, the person behind the door opened it. 

“Saoirse?” 

“Uh, not precisely.” 

The person was tall, tall enough to have to duck their head into Saoirse’s quarters, even if they lingered by the door. Jules did not have a good eye for measuring by estimation, but they knew they were definitely taller than Saoirse. They assumed that if they were specifically looking for them, they must know them.

The stranger acted with a gentle poise to them, somehow all amused, awkward and trying not to alarm Jules. It was nice of them, even if they didn’t know them, and by all means, from their perspective, the stranger in a friend’s room was Jules, not them. 

“I can see that. Unless Saoirse decided they wanted a change of look.”

Jules frowned, letting their mouth run loose. “Would they? I mean, we’re talking about someone who isn’t precisely pressed about appearances.” 

They both stared at each other in silence for a couple of moments, Jules adjusting their boots after a soft-spoken ‘excuse me’. 

“If you keep balancing yourself on one foot, you’ll fall again— pardon me, but are you—?”

Saoirse’s voice came from behind the stranger, a smile audible in it. “I tell them that all the time. Hi, Jacqui. Were you looking for me?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

It turned out the drums came from the same place Jacqui, whom Jules knew only by the letters from him that Saoirse had shared with them, came from: Captain Rodrigo Aguilar’s El Corazón Sangrante, from the Sea of Persepia. Some business or the other had taken the Captain and his ship away from their sea, now making their return to it, as the quinquennial Pirate Meeting approached.

Jacqui, Rodrigo’s Quartermaster and Saoirse’s friend, had seen The Jagged Ruby from afar and convinced Rodrigo it would be better to join them in the cross of the Strait of Seals into Hinode. Winds weren’t favourable, and while it wasn’t a feeding season, another phenomenon Jules didn’t quite manage to understand made it desirable to have the most amount of aid possible crossing the strait. 

“We should just be thankful Inuwashi isn’t near.” 

“Is that Syd’s ship?” Jules asked. “Is there any particular reason for that or—?”

Saoirse was the one to reply: “The Sirens hate the ship,” they said with a shrug, “it makes it harder to cross after.”

“But the Sirens,” Jacqui said, giving Rodrigo a look, “like your songs.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rodrigo said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever works: I don’t wanna become fish food, and I assume neither do you, Mere,—”

“Don’t call me that,” Meredith snarled at him. 

Julianus made a mental note to ask Saoirse what was up with those two, and why they hated each other, or rather, why Meredith hated Rodrigo so much. Because from what Julianus could see, Rodrigo seemed too busy trying to flirt with her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and Meredith looked like she was ready to bite his hand off. Jacqui and Saoirse gave out equally long-suffering sighs. 

Jules suddenly understood why —among all the other reasons Saoirse had given— they were friends. What they failed to notice, however, was Rodrigo looking at them. 

“But now,” he said, with his Nopali accented common tongue, “you. You I haven’t met.”

Jacqui cursed. 

“Me?”

“Drigo leave them out of this… what are you even doing here, Sanlaurento?”

“Legal counsel should be present at all times?”

Meredith rolled her eyes at them. “Scatter off.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The time to get to know Jacqui would come later, after both crews had disembarked in Hinode to stay the night there. They would not make it out of the Strait in one day with the weather and wind conditions, so it would be safer to stay the night on land if they planned to sleep without the risk of sleepwalking into the water, and becoming a tasty midnight snack for the beings luring said waters. 

He was surprisingly gentle, incredibly soft spoken and very, very smart. He was very observant, prone to retreating into himself while being simultaneously aware of what was going on around him. He was also very, very aware of where Rodrigo was at all times. 

They had begun talking about Saoirse’s language and their individual journeys to learn it, eventually moving into other topics. Julianus had asked how Jacqui met Saoirse —since they had never asked Saoirse themselves because, per their own admission, they forgot to ask— and Jacqui asked how Jules had ended up in Meredith’s ship.

They also talked briefly about Altazor, Jules home country.

It was located in the furthest, western end of the Bulan Range, with the City of Altazor as its capital. It was the southernmost of the West Bulan countries and had its own convoluted history. Originally coexisting in relative harmony with the indigenous populations of the area, a military regime had risen out of an old power dispute a couple of decades before Julianus was born. They had been born during the first years of the transition back into civilian hands, but the damage dealt was already done. What the tyrants had done to the Country was, to Julianus and anyone else with half a mind to it, unspeakable and unforgivable. 

Of course, not everyone thought like that, but that was another story.

Julianus had lived in Altazor until their 20th birthday — having begun their legal studies there, they were transferred to Sirenia on a special request. They described the choice as ‘something’; whether the right or wrong something they didn’t know, and they told Jacqui as much. 

“I applied to the Sea Palace as well, I was forced to, because you know,” the paused to take a drink, “there’s certain… charm about the endless escalating capacity of the Petite Bourgeoisie. Nothing like the dog eats dog tradition of it and the class it seeks to imitate. Needless to say, the Sea Palace said I was, how was it? ‘A low-pedigree, insubstantial applicant, with more enthusiasm than talent’. I, however, said I preferred to die on the side street than study with grave robbers and gatekeepers. My mother wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t happy about what the Scholars called me, so...”

They smiled against their glass, Jacqui’s laughter as their companion. 

“You’re lucky.” 

“Meh, but thank you, I suppose.” 

Their talk about the Sea Palace and those places they both had left behind at some point (even if neither of them talked openly about those) carried onto politics, international news, the state of the world; places they wanted to visit, authors they had read. Both of them talked animatedly about this or that, exchanging points of views and debating ideas like nothing else pressed them in the world. They acquired a lightness to them, finding themselves less weighed down by the things they did not talk of.

If only for a night, both of them could be what a part of them had always desired they were: two travelling scholars. Only that. Two people had all the time in the world to dissect it and pick it up again, ever-marvelling at everything it may have to offer.

Two people for whom the horizon was a goal, not an impossibility. 

The conversation paused when Saoirse offered to go get them drinks again, leaving both of the newly found friends in comfortable silence, with the sounds of the Koizumi Inn surrounding them. 

“You’re nice to talk to,” Jules said with a smile. “It’s hard to find people who simply understand.”

Jacqui looked at them like they had grown a second head. “I don’t know how to take that. I don’t even know what that means.”

“As a compliment because it was one.” They paused to nurse their glass, taking a sip of their drink. “You don’t have to tell me anything, and I do apologise if I’m overstepping but you kind of have the energy of someone who everything which they are, which matters the most to them, did not come easy. Saoirse has it, in their own way, Meredith has it for sure, you do. I think it takes a lot of guts to look in the eye of everyone who ever expected something of you and say ‘No, I will not sacrifice myself for this’.”

[caribouwritings]

So, uh, I was the person who asked you what your favorite stuff in MK was. So, now, I want to know another question. About canonical ships. For each canonical ship in MK (Liu Kang/Kitana (both good and evil), Jacqui/Takeda, Sonya/Johnny, Sindel/Jerrod (Yes, Jerrod, not Shao Kahn), etc., etc.), what are your opinions on each canonical ship? Why do you like a certain ship, and why do you dislike certain ships, y’know, that kind of stuff. I hope you’re starting to feel better and well rested.

Oooooo, good question!

Liu Kang & Kitana: both good and bad, they’re just adorable together. I love how awkward and unsure they were about their feelings but couldn’t help the fact they were drawn to the other. Another thing I love is the constant teasing while they deny their feelings. It is sad however they only truly embraced their relationship was when they were revenants.

Jacqui & Takeda: I love that Takeda saw Jacqui he thought she was beautiful, and proceeded to constantly shower her compliments or just straight up flirting. And on Jacqui’s side, I love that she would roll her eyes and smile, so by the time they got together it wasn’t pushed too aggressively. Personally, they’re one of my favorite ships because as soon as I saw them interacting the first time I was starting to ship it that by the end I was invested.

Sonya & Johnny: I love that I didn’t really see it coming, I was just expecting such an opposites attract case scenario. I also really enjoy how they changed for the better, becoming better versions of themselves (especially Johnny). I do wish that they had more time together.

Sindel & Jerrod: I really don’t know much about Jerrod or the relationship they shared, but I like how devoted to their people they were and putting others first. I honestly don’t have much thought on them together, but definitely prefer them over Shao Kahn.

Jade & Kotal: I didn’t expect to like them together, but they are so cute! I love how his voice changes when he speaks to/of her, the expression in his eyes, and.... aghhhh! I love them!

Erron & Skarlet: eh... I see why it didn’t work out. Personally, I could see Skarlet falling for someone with power that treats as an equal or someone who fuels her to be more powerful and is loyally by her side. And for Erron, I see him not settling down until he finds some southern darling/gentleman with a backbone. But that’s just me.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 1

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship

Length: 1.4k

Notes: Okay, here we go! Giving our babe Frankie an ending he deserves, with a few bumps along the way for fun. Divider by @firefly-graphics 💛

It was almost comical, you thought, at how different the realtor's listing was, compared to the real thing. You’d seen it enough times in bad Hallmark romances: city girl buys a property, property is falling apart, city girl miraculously has the funds to fix it up with the help of the perfect farmer neighbour.

This was reality though and you had already poured your life’s savings, which amounted to very little after all the surprise debts had been paid off, into this farmhouse. 

The "Quaint New England farmhouse, filled with the patina of a bygone era" was a wreck. Nothing to be done about it now, though. The crumbling two-story, just a few minutes drive from the small Vermont town, hadn’t been occupied in over a decade and was now in a total state of disrepair. 

Swallowing back your tears, feeling the burn behind your eyes and the hot swelling in your throat, you told yourself there wasn’t time for a breakdown. You first needed to take stock of the depth of damage, decide which rooms were habitable enough for the time being, clean, unpack, and prepare yourself for this new life.

The next few hours went by in an exhausting blur. By late evening, there was a larger-than-expected pile of rotten, broken, or otherwise unusable furniture in the driveway; your meager few belongings taking their place. On top of renovations and remodeling it appeared you would also be refurbishing.��

Sitting on the porch in the one spot where you felt confident the decking wouldn’t crumble beneath your weight, you looked over your list.

 3 cracked windows (can wait?)

 no running water in kitchen (ASAP FIX!)

 missing shingles (bad??)

 deck boards and upstairs bedroom floorboards rotten

 carpeted bathroom

 questionable smell coming from attic space 

peeling wallpaper/paint EVERYWHERE

Folding the list and slipping it into your back pocket, you made your way back inside to discover one last glaring issue, previously unnoticed until now. The electricity had been shut off.

Well, fuck me sideways...

Deciding it was too late and you were too tired to deal with anything else today, you settled for the flashlight on your cellphone for light. Eating the apple you had nicked from the motel lobby the night before, you laid back in your makeshift bed on the floor and gazed around your new home.

Your home.

The first thing you had ever owned on your own.

First, the corner of your mouth quirked up then you quickly allowed it to flourish into a grin. It may be a piece of shit, but then again, you were always attracted to broken things with the innate need to fix them. Maybe this time you’d actually succeed. With that sobering thought, you settled down into your sleeping bag and were quickly asleep.

Frankie couldn’t believe his eyes when he drove past the old McClure farm. Some fool had actually bought it! Chuckling to himself, he could already imagine the gossip that would spread through town tomorrow, everyone clambering to find out who had moved in.

He had moved out this way five years ago and was still considered the “new guy” in town. Hopefully, the new arrival would take that mantle and everyone could start using Frankie’s actual name. 

He’ll probably just be dubbed “newer guy”...

Breathing out a huff of a laugh at the thought, Frankie began to turn down his driveway. The long, meandering drive leads to a barn surrounded by rows and rows of apple trees.

Two weeks after having moved in, you’re certain you’ve met, or at least seen, everyone from the town. Muffins, pie, casseroles, and even a case of cider had been brought over by a few of the braver townsfolk who drove out to say hello. While they may have been thinly veiled excuses to come snoop, you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. The food was delicious, and best of all, it was free.

She had stayed for most of the afternoon, helping you clean and setting her kids about to do menial chores. The eldest, Cole, was sent scurrying up the road to tell his dad to bring Gerta. ... You dared not ask.

The very first visitor was a neighbour from just down the road. “Jacquie,” she had informed you over the noise of her four kids running around the yard, “How do you do?”

She said it with the barest hint of a southern drawl and you instantly fell in love with the soft cadence of her voice. With a beaming smile and a surreptitious wipe of your dusty hand on your pant leg, you shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

A short time later, the most devastatingly handsome, all-American-looking man you had ever seen climbed out of a tractor and started carrying a large object towards the house, Cole at his heels. 

“Jac, babe, where d’you want her?” He called, voice straining a bit due to the weight in his arms. Smiling at you, he nodded his head in greeting, "Hiya, neighbour! The name’s Mark"

“Oh, I don’t need it,” Jacquie replied airily “I just wanted an excuse to watch your muscles at work.”

With a roll of his eyes, that did nothing to hide the adoring sparkle in them, her husband carried his load to the side of the house and with a thump, set it down.

Turns out that Jacquie had a fondness for naming EVERYTHING and Gerta was their gas-powered generator. Claiming they had no use for it, Gerta was yours to keep for as long as you needed her. Which, you had to be honest, was looking like a good long while. Willing away the tears, not for the last time you were sure, brought on by her kindness, you settled for giving her a bear hug. It wasn’t until you heard a little voice calling “Mama?” that you realized you had been clinging to Jacquie for longer than could ever be considered acceptable.

Pulling away gingerly, you started to apologize, quickly stopped by her hand coming up in front of your face, making you involuntarily flinch. 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry!” She started to exclaim before taking a deeper look at you. Then, without breaking eye contact, she tilted her head to the side and hollered at Mark to gather the kids and head home.

“I’ll be back past bedtime, so come give me y’all kisses now!” She lovingly bossed her brood.

Once they had cleared out, she turned to you, gently taking your hands in hers, and said, “Now, where do you want to start?”

“What kind of voodoo, witch doctor, hippy-dippy magic do you possess?!” you asked with a laugh while sniffing back the lingering tears. 

You had just laid out your entire life to a complete stranger. She had sat there, the whole time, holding your hands and your gaze while you had talked. Everything, you had told her absolutely everything. From the California upbringing in an affluential family to marrying your Highschool Sweetheart days after graduation. The sudden move, his surprise enlistment, his changing demeanor, the beginnings of abuse, all ending with his death while stationed overseas.

The pathetic Death Gratuity from the military barely covered the truck. You’d had to sell everything in order to settle all remaining debts. Your parents had offered to move you back home but the thought just made you ashamed. Moving back home? Being seen as a victim, being pitied by those who had seen your potential wasted? No way.

“Nothin’ supernatural, Darlin,” she assured you, after taking a deep breath to steady herself. It appeared that your emotions had started to affect her as well, you noticed with chagrin. “just the power of a good friend and a strong cider.”

Then came the aftermath. The debt collectors, the funeral without a body, his family claiming anything of value and you meekly allowing it, unaccustomed by that point to standing up for yourself. His grooming of you had started so early, and so slightly, that no one had seen it happen. He had controlled every aspect of your lives; it had made you feel like a fool during that first month as a widow. How could you not know about the multiple maxed-out credit cards? The ignored truck payments? The bank loans?! 

That comment made you look around and laugh, breaking the morose atmosphere in a flash. Scattered around the two of you were at least a half dozen bottles of the alcoholic beverage, which you had both sipped on during your sad monologue.

“Ahh, so it’s the maker of the drink I’ll have to kiss,” you proclaimed with a laugh. “I just saved a fortune in therapy bills!”

With a sly smile, Jacquie nodded, “That you will, send him my best when you do.”

Part Two