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tsukihimeyfan · 3 years

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Sorting the main cast of AtLA into Hogwarts Houses

I know I’m late to the party because I’ve seen many different people tackle this before, but I feel like it is my civic duty as both a Potterhead and an AtLA stan to put in my two cents, since every single time I’ve seen it talked about people either misinterpret what each House values in their members or pick a House by taking into account only one aspect of their personalities. I want to make it clear that these are my own opinions, which I’m basing on the definitions we’ve gotten of the main traits of each House over the years and the “core values” of each AtLA character, and that I’m in no way am I trying to insult anyone who thinks differently. That being said, here goes nothing!

Let’s start with the easy ones. Namely, the Fire Siblings:

1) Azula is 100%, undoubtedly, definitely, incontrovertibly Slytherin. Just doing a quick rundown of the qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his handpicked students, as stated by the Sorting Hat, Albus Dumbledore and Pottermore: Cunning? Check. Resourcefulness? Check. A disregard for rules? Check. Using any means to achieve her ends? Check. Shrewdness? Check. Ambition? Check. Self-preservation? Check. Pride? Check. An argument could even be made that, as a member of the Fire Nation Royal Family, Azula also kind of meets the “blood purity” criteria. I’m sure most of us agree on this. Even if she does exhibit a lot of loyalty to her father as well as courage and intelligence, there is just no contest. Azula is one of the most Slytherin characters I’ve ever seen outside of the Harry Potter universe.

2) In the same way, Zuko is irrefutably a Hufflepuff. Hear me out! I know that he’s very brave and daring, but when we think of Zuko, what is his most essential trait, what do people tell us again

and again

about Zuko’s character?

He’s a hard worker. And what’s the House of the hard-working?

"You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, And unafraid of toil.”

You guessed it. Hufflepuff. Of course, that’s not the only trait valued by this House that he exhibits. Who is more loyal in the series than the child who got half his face burned off and still did his best to earn the love and respect of the one responsible? Who never faltered in his loyalty even when he was sent away on an impossible mission? Who spouted angry words most of the time yet was willing to let his ticket home go temporarily in favor of ensuring the safety of his Uncle and his crew? That’s right, our boy Zuko. That very loyalty to his father is what unfortunately bound him for the longest time, until he was forced to face what a monster he was and let go of it in favor of more important things, namely his own morals and his loyalty to his Uncle.

He also has an incredibly strong sense of justice, as proven by the above statements, as well as this moment:

and he can be incredibly patient when he needs to be, as seen during The Blue Spirit and the Southern Raiders episodes.

Hufflepuffs are also said to be fair (which he clearly is), dedicated (need I say more?), honest (which Mr. shouts-his-feelings-at-the-top-of-his-lungs and can’t-lie-without-being-obvious-or-glancing-away-and-has-been-found-out-every-time-he-tried of course is) and modest (this one he starts without but by the time he joins the Gaang there isn’t anyone more modest or humble)

As “an idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor” , Zuko is the Hufflepuffiest Hufflepuff to ever Hufflepuff and I will die on this hill

3) Another easy one is our girl Suki, whom I’d say is a Gryffindor through and through, even if she is very loyal to her friends.

The rest of the Gaang under the cut.

The other members of Team Avatar are a bit trickier because they all exhibit a pretty even mix of traits from more than one House, but still if we just concentrate on their defining characteristics we can get to an answer.

4) I’d argue that Sokka belongs in Ravenclaw, even though he is of course quite brave and extremely loyal to his loved ones, not only because he’s a strategist and an inventor, but also because, as best stated by Master Piandao:

Ravenclaws most value wit, learning, intelligence, creativity and wisdom (this last one is a bit iffy but I’m sure he’ll get there when he’s older), as well as priding themselves on being original in their ideas and methods. That’s Sokka to a T.

5) Katara gave me a hard time. She’s unbelievably loyal to her friends and family, she’s compassionate, patient, fair, hard working and dedicated, with a REALLY strong sense of justice, so a case can be made for Hufflepuff easily. However she can also be quite cunning when she wants to (most obviously during The Waterbending Scroll, City of Walls and Secrets, The Painted Lady, and The Runaway), she has a lot of ambition (if you count every variation of “I will make the world a better place by force if I have to”), she disregards the rules when it suits her (again The Waterbending Scroll as well as The Runaway) and she can be proud at times, so we could argue she’s a Slytherin. She’s also undoubtedly very intelligent and even quite wise for her age. It took me a while to decide but then I pondered; at her very core, what are the statements that define her? What words just scream “that’s it, that’s Katara”? They are, of course, these two phrases:

The first sounded incredibly Gryffindor to me, and the second is half Gryffindor half Hufflepuff, so it had to be between those two. As such, I decided to look into Gryffindor first. Katara is, of course, astoundingly courageous, but what else? I had to actually look up definitions for the Gryffindor traits besides courage because they all just kinda meant “brave” to me initially 😅, but what I found was:

*Nerve: “one's steadiness and courage in a demanding situation”. Yep. Who’s the most level-headed, steady and reliable person whenever the Gaang is in any kind of pinch? That’s right. Katara

*Daring: “adventurous or audaciously bold“. Yep. I’d say she ties with Toph for boldest in the Gaang

*Determination: “firmness of purpose”. Yep, absolutely. See the above image from the Painted Lady. ‘Nuff said.

*Chivalry: can mean 2 things, one is “sum of the ideal qualifications of a knight, including courtesy, generosity, valor, and dexterity in arms”. All of that is true of her (her “arms” being her waterbending), but I found it interesting that to be chivalrous can also mean “gracious and honorable toward an enemy, especially a defeated one, and toward the weak or poor”. I’d argue that this fits her even more. Once again, just take a look at The Painted Lady episode.

*Courage and bravery: they can mean the same thing, namely “the ability to do something that frightens you” and of course that fits Katara, but the word courage in particular has another meaning, which is “strength in the face of pain or grief”...

I’d say she’s pretty good at that. I think that settles it, Katara is a Gryffindor.

Turns out that when it came to the water tribe siblings Bato was right all along

6) For Toph I was split between Gryffindor (thinking of her brash, bold nature) and Slytherin for a while, but after looking into Katara and researching all those definitions I think I have to give it to Slytherin. Of course, Toph doesn’t seem to be very ambitious unless you count “being recognized as the greatest earthbender in the world”, but she is quite cunning. She knows exactly how to use her “poor helpless blind girl” persona to get what she wants, as seen both on The Blind Bandit and The Runaway. She’s also an extremely good actress, being able to play the “reserved and obedient little girl” to her parents for years, and being easily able to pick it back up when it suits her.

She’s also stubborn, proud, and 100% willing to use any means, regardless of laws or rules, to get what she wants.

As for self preservation? Remember that her response when asked to teach Aang, which was crucial to save the world but would’ve compromised her secret, was this:

Slytherins can also “hesitate before acting, so as to weigh all possible outcomes before deciding exactly what should be done “ and my first instinct was to say that it didn’t fit Toph at all, but what is Toph if not a person who “waits and listens before striking”? Slytherins tend to favor Neutral Jing it seems.

Almost forgot that as a daughter of the Beifong family she’s sort of nobility and she technically also meets the “blood purity” criteria.

7) Finally, we get to my boy Aang. He was really difficult. He’s loyal, patient, fair, kind, modest (usually) and just but I can’t really call him a hard worker most of the time.

He’s brave, adventurous, determined and chivalrous but he does tend to get discouraged during demanding or stressful situations (his friends always make it better though)

He’s creative, very wise for his age, and quite smart (except when he’s playing around with Sokka in which case they share one brain cell 😂)

He can even be cunning when he needs to be. If he ever went to Hogwarts, he’d definitely be a Hat Staller like Harry. I heard someone say once that they considered Aang a Gryffindor because he liked to show off a lot, but that’s not really a Gryffindor trait (think of Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter and Minerva McGonagall. I think any one of them would sooner Stupefy themselves than go show off their skills in front of a crowd for no reason other than to brag).

Once again, we must pin down what it is that defines him, what his core is. After much thought, I decided it’s this:

It’s his compassion, which he learned from his people, and his desire to value and protect all life. It’s his loyalty to the ideologies of the Air Nomads of which he is the last remaining bastion. It’s his strong moral code, his sense of right and wrong, his wish to make friends and to believe the best of everyone. That’s his center. That is what makes him Avatar Aang. In light of that, I think we can consider Aang, first and foremost, a Hufflepuff.

In the end, Team Avatar is made up of one Ravenclaw, one Slytherin, one Gryffindor (two after Suki joins), and two Hufflepuffs

Ironic, that the House least valued in the Harry Potter universe is the one that houses arguably the most pivotal characters of Avatar the Last Airbender: Zuko and Aang. Fitting, that even in this they parallel each other.

This is already long enough so I don’t think I’ll do Mai, Ty Lee, or Iroh. Maybe some other time.

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family-business-one-shots · 6 years

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So I wrote a thing...

A/N: I wrote this for something not tumblr related and hadn’t planned on posting it here but @bellero practically forced me to (not that I really mind, I love that kid ;)). It’s a bit different from my normal style, because 1) it’s completely in third person and 2) it’s not about Supernatural. This is based on the MCU, and takes place a little bit after the events of Captain America: Civil War. The reader is Tony Stark’s 15 year old daughter. I’ve never written for Marvel before, but hopefully y’all enjoy it!

Relationship: Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

Words: 1,872

Warnings: lots and lots of angst, mention of imprisonment, a heck ton of tears

“Dad? Can we talk?”

Tony glanced up from where he sat on the couch to see Y/N standing in the doorway. She looked as though she was still deciding whether or not to enter the room, which immediately set Tony on edge.

“Sure, kid,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

Breathing deeply, Y/N made her way over to the couch and sat down, further away from her father than normal, he noticed. He tried not to think about it. Her eyes darted over to the giant television mounted on the wall across from them, and Tony, realizing that this seemed to be a different kind of conversation, reached for the remote and turned the system off. Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s up?”

Y/N stalled for a moment, staring down at her hands in her lap, before finally raising her head and meeting her father’s gaze.

“You know I love you, right?” she said, catching Tony completely off guard.

“Uh… y-yeah,” he stammered. “And I love you, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Y/N. “And I know that you’d do anything for me, no matter what.”

Tony’s brows knit together in confusion. “Of course I would, Y/N/N. What-- where are you going with this?”

Y/N took a quick breath as she responded, “Dad, I think… no, I know I need to take some time away. I need to--to leave.”

Whatever Tony had been expecting, this definitely hadn’t been it.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I just need to get away for awhile. Away from the compound, away from everything that happened, away from… you.”

Although his features remained unchanged, Tony could practically feel his heart breaking. Here was his daughter, his baby girl, his pride and joy, telling him that she was leaving. Not just leaving their home, but leaving him. After everything he’d gone through recently, all the fighting and the betrayal… this was just the cherry on top of a rotten sundae.

“Why?” he asked, the question coming unbidden to his lips. He tried so hard to keep his emotions in check, to stay calm, at least for Y/N’s sake.

She smiled sadly, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “You know why, Dad. I need to take a step back from everything to process and deal. I mean, my family is--is gone. They’ve been imprisoned and forced to go on the run and” --Y/N took a shaky breath-- “they’ve left me.”

Unable to meet her gaze any longer, Tony looked down; she was talking about Pepper. Guilt and shame washed over him like a wave, knowing that he was the reason for all of this, that he was the cause of her pain. Y/N seemed to read his thoughts.

“I don’t blame you, Dad,” she said, leaning over to grab his hand. “At least… not completely.” Tony raised his head. “I know that S-Steve had a hand in this whole mess, but… so did you.”

He nodded dumbly -- no point in denying what was so obviously true.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, wincing at the slight crack in his voice when he said her name.

Shaking her head, Y/N let go of his hand and replied, “No. I’m sorry, Dad. I just… I need to do this on my own, you know? I need to focus on myself, instead of everyone else around me.” She blinked, and the first tears fell. “I mean, this is the second time this has happened to me; my family has been torn apart from the inside twice.”

Tony closed his eyes, remembering with disgust what Stane did to him and his daughter eight years ago.

“Before, I was too young to understand,” she explained as silent tears came racing down her cheeks, “and since Unc-- he was dead, it was easier to just forget about it, sweep it under the rug and move on, but… I’m not seven years old anymore. I can’t just keep going like nothing ever happened. Not this time.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Tony understood. He couldn’t argue with her. He saw exactly where she was coming from, and he knew, deep inside, that it was better -- for both of them -- that she go.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure,” said Y/N. “A few months, maybe. Possibly the whole school year.”

At this, Tony’s head shot up, his features colored with confusion. “School year?”

Y/N cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m, uh… I’m going to a real school, a real high school. No more private tutors.” Tony opened his mouth, but she cut him off, “I’ve already talked to my tutors here, and my piano and violin instructors. I put everything on a temporary cancellation, since I don’t know when or if I’ll be coming back to them.”

With every word that came out of her mouth, Tony felt his resolve breaking down, little by little. It wasn’t until that one word -- if -- that he truly felt the crushing weight of the reality of the matter. He sucked in a shallow breath, trying not to let any of his own tears fall as he stared at his daughter.

“Where are you going?” he whispered, not caring anymore that his voice sounded as broken as he felt.

“New York,” said Y/N. “Queens, actually. I found a good school down there that’ll let me keep playing piano and violin and doesn’t seem too academically hard.”

“Which one?”

“Uh, Midtown Science and Technology, I think.”

Tony gave a small nod, digesting this new information, until a thought occurred to him. “Where will you stay?”

“The school found a family for me to live with,” she replied, “a boy my age and his aunt. They’re getting paid by the school to take me in.”

“The school’s paying them?” Tony asked, his curiosity involuntarily piqued. “How does a New York public high school have enough money for something like that?”

The barest trace of a smile danced on her lips for a second. “They don’t. But we do.”

Shaking his head, Tony laughed without humor. As he blinked back the traitorous tears that threatened to spill over at any second, he said, “You’re definitely my daughter.”

There was quiet after that, neither father nor daughter moving or speaking. They sat on the couch for minutes on end, drinking in the silence, both knowing, somewhere deep inside, that once it was broken, there’d be no going back to the way things were.

“I guess this is goodbye, then.”

It was Tony who spoke first, shattering the fragile line that had been drawn. If she was leaving, really truly leaving, he just wanted her gone. It physically hurt him to think that, but it hurt him even more to know that he was causing his daughter any pain.

Y/N shook her head furiously, in part to stop her almost unending tears. “No, Dad, no. Not goodbye. Just… see you later.”

Tony hummed, more to himself than in answer to her. Another moment of silence passed before Y/N finally spoke.

“I, uh… I better go,” she told him, rising up from the couch. “Happy’s waiting for me out in the car and, well, you know how he gets.”

“Hang on,” Tony said, startled. He got up from his seat as well. “You’re leaving now?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/N rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Y-yeah, Dad. The family I’m living with is expecting me today, that’s part of the deal--”

“You didn’t think to tell me this before the day you were supposed to leave?” said Tony, his voice rising quickly. “And what if I’d said no? What if I’d said you couldn’t go live in New York City all by yourself with some random boy I don’t know?”

“I would have gone anyway!” Y/N yelled, throwing her arms down by her side. Her emotions were getting the best of her as more tears fell. “I’d have forced Happy to drive me to the city because I can’t take this anymore! You’ve all been playing the victim because he did this and she did that but what about me, huh? No one’s bothered to talk to me about any of this! No one cared enough to talk to me after my whole world collapsed! Do you know what it’s like to watch the people you love fight each other to death?”

Tony stood there stunned, staring silently at his daughter. She was right -- with all that had happened, in the aftermath of everything, he hadn’t even thought to check on how she was doing, if she was okay.

“I wasn’t allowed to put my two cents into the conversation because ‘the adults are talking, Maggie, why don’t you go play your violin because you can’t possibly know what you’re talking about.’ Well, guess what, I do know what I’m talking about, so here’s my two cents -- you’ve all been acting like children!” She was shouting now, finally unloading everything that had been keeping her up late into the night for days on end. “Everybody had to be right! Everybody had to have the last word! But if you’d just listened to each other, none of this would have happened!” Her whole body began shaking, whether from the anger, the frustration, or the sobs that threatened to overtake her, she didn’t know. “The ‘adults’ were the ones who messed everything up and made my life a living nightmare! And I--have--had it!”

As she finished with her long overdue rant, Y/N’s chest heaved from the screaming and the effort it took not to break down crying right then and there. She looked away from her father.

Tony remained frozen, his mouth hanging open dumbly.

When the rise and fall of her chest had slowed to a relatively normal rate and the angry tears had stopped falling, Y/N finally met her father’s gaze, piercing him with those fierce eyes.

“I’m leaving,” she said, her voice remarkably even. “You can try to stop me if you want, but if you do, I will never ever forgive you for it. I swear.”

Unable to form words, Tony simply gaped at her.

“Don’t bother calling me, I’ve already had F.R.I.D.A.Y. change my number and erase the old one from every file in the Stark database.” With one last look at her father, Y/N turned and started walking away from him, away from the only family she really had left. “I hope you get everything figured out, Dad. I really do. Until then…”

When she reached the doorway, she hesitated, wanting nothing more than to turn around and run into his arms and apologize for her outburst, to tell him she had changed her mind. But, no, she couldn’t change her mind, not now. She’d passed the point of no return. There was no going back. Not anymore. Finding her resolve, Y/N Stark kept walking, leaving the compound, her home, and making her way outside to where Happy was waiting for her.

She didn’t look back.

#marvel #tony stark #marvel cinematic universe #tony stark x reader #dad!tony #tony stark x daughter!reader #mcu #iron man #avengers #tony stark one shot #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fic #marvel one shot #family business one shot

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natasha-cole · 6 years

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Worlds Collide Chapter 7

Pairing: Reader x Billy Moran

Chapter Summary: Reader is a bit shocked over the way Billy calls her out on her behavior, mostly because no one has ever talked to her that way. She’s having a hard time staying mad at him though.

Word Count: 3467

Warnings: none... swears maybe?

Notes: Finals have broken me, so I took a break for the night to edit this chapter that I wrote a few days ago. I think it’s terrible, but my brain is mush and I had to offer you something.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

You and Billy spent the rest of the weekend sneaking around. When everyone else chose to stay out late to party, the two of you figured those were good moments to spend together. During the day, he’d pull you off to somewhere private when no one was paying attention; mostly just to make out. You felt like a teenager again. Giggly and excited over your new crush. He had a way of talking to you that made you feel good about yourself for once in your life. Even more, you found that you absolutely loved being around him.

You still felt terribly out of place at these things. You co-workers still avoided you like the plague, probably because of the last time you had blown up at them for teasing you. You didn’t care though, as long as you had Billy.

By Sunday though, people had caught on to you and Billy disappearing all the time. Not ones to enjoy being left in the dark over what was going on in this tight-knit group, a few of them had decided to take it upon themselves to point out the obvious.

“So…” Rich began. He gave you and Billy a knowing grin as he approached you; the two of you sitting side by side on the couch in the middle of a conversation. “I know I’m not the only one wondering this, but what the hell is going on between the two of you?”

You felt yourself blush, knowing that your plan to keep this thing quiet for a while wasn’t working out in your favor. You looked around, noticing that some of the others had their attention drawn to the fact that Rich had finally asked what they had all been wanting to ask.

“What do you mean?” Billy asked.

“I mean, the two of you have been disappearing an awful lot this weekend, and always at the same time.”

“He’s not wrong,” Kim added. You glared at her, knowing that she probably knew a little more than everyone else. She had been the one to help you get ready for your first date with Billy, after she apologized for talking about you behind your back. You suddenly felt betrayed. “When one of you is gone, so is the other. We all know you went out once, now I kinda wonder if it’s been more than once.”

“I don’t see how any of that is anyone’s business,” you replied.

“I guess it’s not,” Rich said. “We were just curious is all.”

“We are friends,” you said, “I know it’s hard to believe, but Billy and I actually get along quite well. There’s nothing going on.”

You could feel Billy’s stare as you said it all. You forced yourself not to look at him, no matter how badly you wanted to reassure him that you did, in fact, like him more than you were letting on.

“What are we talking about?” Rob asked as he came into the room in the middle of your explanation.

“We’re talking about how we think Billy and Y/N are sneaking around together,” Kim chuckled.

“Oh yeah? What is all that about anyway? You two are being so weird,” Rob added.

“Is there a such thing as privacy anymore?” You asked.

“Not around here sweetheart,” Rich joked.

“This is stupid. You’re all being stupid as usual.” You stood up from the couch, feeling even more flustered now. The worst part of it was that Billy was doing nothing to help.

“Why do you always have to call us stupid?” Rob asked. He looked at you, frowning in disapproval over your choice of words.

“Because you are. You all think everything is a big joke, and you think it’s funny to make fun of me.”

“No one’s making fun of you,” Kim added. “We’re just curious is all.”

“Well, stop!” You shouted. “I am so tired of trying to defend myself to you guys. You’re all so horrible to me.”

“Hey,” Rich cut in, “you’re the one who doesn’t involve herself in anything we do. We’ve tried to include you. You’re the one who thinks she’s too good for us.”

“Maybe I am too good for you. Maybe all of this is just a waste of time. I hate these conventions, and I’m only on the show because of the paycheck.”

“You’re getting upset over nothing,” Kim said. “Calm down. No one is making fun of you. If anything, you should feel sort of liked because we actually show interest.”

“You’re only worried about Billy,” you spat. “I’m not an idiot. The idea that something could be going on between us makes you all sick. You think he’s too good for me, I get it.”

“Why are you getting so worked up?” Billy asked quietly. You looked over to him, heart racing now. He was still sitting there, watching you lose it over this stupid conversation.

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are. You need to calm down. I like you, Y/N. But these guys are my friends. They’ve been my friends a lot longer than I’ve known you.”

“I’m just sticking up for myself because no one else will,” you replied accusingly.

“You don’t need to stick up for yourself. You’re the one bringing this on yourself. No one is making fun of you. They’re my friends, and they’re just curious.”

“Well, I don’t enjoy having people in my business. Nothing good ever comes out of having people be over involved.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I want them to know if I’m seeing someone?” Billy asked.

“Wait, what?” Rob cut in, looking confused. “You two are seeing each other?”

“I know you two went out once, but you’re actually seeing each other?” Kim added.

“We weren’t supposed to say anything,” you said, looking at Billy. You had to admit that he made you a little angry right now. The last thing you needed was for his friends to judge you even more, or worse, talk him out of being with you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at secrets.”

“A secret relationship?” Rich chimed in. “For how long?”

Billy looked at you as if he were testing the waters, at the same time, trying to think about how long the two of you had been involved.

“Just over a month?” He questioned you.

“Billy,” you mumbled, “why can’t you just be quiet about it?”

“Why should I? I like you, you like me… we’re good together. I think I’d like for my friends to know about us.”

“You didn’t ask if I was okay with it though.”

“Why are you so upset over this? Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Of course not,” you replied, “I just don’t want them to have another reason to give me a hard time. I don’t want them to convince you that you could do better.”

“Whoa,” Rob said, throwing his hands up in defeat, “first of all, we don’t give you a hard time. Secondly, who Billy chooses to date is not our business.”

“We would never interfere,” Kim added.

“Y/N,” Billy said softly, “I get that you’re worried about what people think of you, but you’re overreacting.”

“Oh, so now I’m crazy?”

“I didn’t-” Billy stopped himself short, looking as if he were trying to calm himself. “You are so high-strung. I didn’t say you were crazy. But, right now, you’re being a brat.”

“Did you just call me a brat? Like, you really just did that?” You asked, taken aback at his choice of word. More than that, you had never had anyone call you out like this, even with a stupid name usually reserved for a child.

“Yeah, I did, because that’s how you’re acting.”

“No one has ever talked to me like that.”

“Well, get used to it. Especially if you choose to keep acting like this.” Billy stared at you, obviously testing you.

In any other situation, with any other person, you most likely would have stormed out of the room right now. But, there was something about the way he didn’t act afraid of you like most people did. You could’ve done without the name calling, but even you knew he was right. You were acting childish, only because you didn’t really know how to act with people who wanted to know so much about your private life. You weren’t angry with him though, in fact, the way he brought you down a notch was kind of hot. He stared at you, his serious face on; and you just stood there, equally serious.

You also realized that your behavior wasn’t sending him running just yet. You were being horrible to the people closest to him; but instead of telling you that he was done with you, he made a point of letting you know that he would continue to call you out when you were acting like a jerk.

You weren’t sure what came over you just then, but you took a deep breath and approached him. He probably expected you to slap him for calling you names, because he definitely flinched slightly when you were finally standing in front of him. You said nothing, but you practically sat on his lap as you pulled his face to yours, kissing him deeply. The way that he stood up to you and took no shit was a turn on, and you didn’t care if everyone was still here, watching this all unfold in shock.

It took him a moment to realize what was going on, and before you knew it, he was pulling you down onto him as he returned the kiss with as much passion as you were giving him.

When you both came back for air, you stared into each other's eyes, both equally amazed at how the moment had turned into this. You had nearly forgotten that everyone else was here, until you heard someone clear their throat uncomfortably.

“Uh, that was… sweet and all,” Rich began, “but maybe it would be better if you went back to your secret relationship.”

Billy chuckled at Rich’s words, the others adding in their two cents about PDA and how you should keep it to yourselves. There were no remarks over how they hated the idea of you and Billy, there were no snide comments on how he could do better than you, there wasn’t anything that you expected from them. They went about their day as if it didn’t bother them.

For the first time in the midst of all of this, you realized that these people weren’t set out to hate you at all. They knew very well at this point that you and Billy were definitely involved, and no one wanted to get in the way of that.

You felt bad about the way you had talked to them for the rest of the day. Your words replayed in your mind, mostly Billy’s words took over. You had been very turned on by the way he stood up to you, people just didn’t speak to you in that way. All of the years you had spent building up a thick skin and pretending to be a hard-ass suddenly seemed like a waste. Perhaps you didn’t have to be so stubborn and cold all the time. Maybe it was okay to let other people in. While the idea of having new friends seemed like a long shot, especially with the way you had behaved around these people that you worked with, you figured that you had been able to let yourself be vulnerable with Billy, why couldn’t you eventually let your guard down with the people he loved?

When it came time for the con to end and for everyone to head home, you reveled in the fact that you got to go back to L.A. and be with him without having to hide in the privacy of hotel rooms or green rooms. You knew you didn’t technically have to hide anything anymore, not from his friends anyway. But, you had a hard time dealing with people who judged you. You constantly felt that you were under scrutiny with them as well as with fans. The idea of keeping your relationship secret at least publicly helped to throw everyone off so that they would leave you alone.

This was all very new to you. You hadn’t ever had a boyfriend before, not a real one anyway; and although the two of you hadn’t quite gotten to the point of calling yourself a couple, you really felt that you were headed in that direction.

You had finally arrived home after a long flight. After throwing your bags aside as you entered your house, you immediately called Billy. He had left the night before and you hated to admit it, but you missed having him around.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted you. You imagined that smug grin hidden beneath that beard as you heard his voice.

“When and where are we meeting?” You asked quickly. That sounded awfully pushy, but you’d be lying if you said that he wasn’t the only thing you were thinking of.

“Wow, wasting no time,” he chuckled.

“I sort of miss you,” you replied as you headed to your bedroom. You laid down across your bed, smiling ear to ear just at the sound of his voice. “Are we going to see each other before I have to go back to Vancouver?”

“Of course we are. Actually, I was waiting for you to call me when you got in. I was hoping you could come to my place, we could just hang out.”

“I’d like that.”

You happily made the drive to his place even if you had just gotten off a plane today. You didn’t necessarily want to drive, but you quickly learned that you might do almost anything for this man. When you arrived, you knocked on the door and waited impatiently for him to answer. When he finally did, you immediately pulled him to you, grabbing the back of his head to lead him down to a kiss. He seemed surprised by your sudden movement, but easily melted into the kiss as well.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as his lips moved against yours. You had to strain yourself slightly, standing on tiptoes to keep contact with his lips. Your head buzzed and your body tingled. Nothing could ever feel as good as these moments.

“Okay,” he chuckled as he broke the kiss, “you sure you want to make out on the porch? Maybe we can take this inside.”

“Sorry,” you smiled.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to see you too.”

He led you inside and you shyly took a moment to look around. You were a little surprised at how nice his place was. It wasn’t what you expected, but then again, you didn’t often go over to random men’s homes so you didn’t really have anything to compare it to.

“Want a beer?” He asked as he headed for the kitchen.

“You sure know how to sweet talk a lady.”

“I know you pretend to be all high-class and only drink wine, but I also know that you secretly love beer.” He handed you a bottle and you grinned at him, impressed that he really did know a bit about you.

You eventually found your way to the couch where you both sat. You talked more, and it felt as if you would never get sick of talking to him. You probably told him more about yourself than anyone had ever bothered to know. Truthfully, he certainly knew you better than anyone else by now. He was easy to talk to and you felt that you could trust him with anything.

“You know, I had a lot of fun over the weekend with our sneaking around and all, but do you ever think about just being open about all of this?”

“What are you talking about?.” you asked. “Your friends already know, most of them anyway.”

“I just mean… family, fans… like, being more public with it.”

“You want your fans to know I’m with you? So they can hate me? I can tell you, the fandom knows I’m not the warmest member of the cast, I don’t think they’d be too keen on the idea of me being with their beloved guitarist.”

“Nobody hates you.”

“Well, then they really just don’t like me.”

“What are we anyway?” He asked suddenly, the thought had obviously been weighing on him for some time, and it had been weighing on you as well..

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve gone out a few times, we’ve been sneaking around to be together…”

“We make out a lot.”

“That too,” you chuckled. “I don’t know what this is because I’ve never had something like this.”

He leaned in to kiss you; brushing your hair behind your ear as his lips met yours.

“I think I really like you.”

“I like you too.”

He kissed you again, harder this time as he pressed against you. The kiss became heated very quickly. The second his tongue slipped past your lips, you involuntarily let out a small moan against his mouth. This prompted him further, and the next thing you knew, he had pressed you back, down against the couch so that he could lay on top of you. You felt stupid for how nervous you were now. You were an adult woman for fuck’s sake. Having a man kiss you and move things in this direction shouldn’t send your nerves haywire like this. But, you were extremely nervous. You wanted him, of course. He made you feel good, and you enjoyed the feel of his weight on top of you. Something about him made you feel safe.

Right now, you hated the fact that you had never let yourself be with anyone else before. It had been your own stubbornness really. Opportunities had presented themselves to you plenty of times, but you were so tired of people pushing you around, telling you what to do; you denied anyone who ever tried to get that close.

Now, you wanted to be with Billy. There was no denying it at this point. Every part of you wanted to let him in, let him be the one to share in that intimacy with you. But, all you could think about now was what a disappointment you would be to him. You didn’t know what you were doing, and you couldn’t bear the idea of him making fun of you and walking out on you because you were so disappointing.

You hesitantly pushed him away again, breaking the kiss as he quickly pushed himself off of you.

“I’m sorry,” he began.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who is sorry.”

“Sometimes, I still think you were messing with me when you said you were a virgin.”

“Can you not?” You cringed at the word. You knew he meant no harm by it, but the word itself sounded pathetic in your mind.

“What?”

“I just- I hate that word. I hate when you say it.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. He looked at you as if he were trying to comfort you now. You had been embarrassed the moment you had let it slip that you had never been with someone like that, and even more embarrassed that he had sort of made fun of you for it until he realized you were serious.

“Just- can we not make such a big deal about it?”

“I’m not,” he promised. He leaned in again, this time kissing your neck softly; a move that only made you get more worked up. God knows you wanted to be with him, but you were making yourself sick with nervousness now.

“We need to slow down again,” you mumbled as you reached up to run a hand through his hair. You let your fingers tangle in his dark strands, closing your eyes as he continued to kiss at your neck.

“Anything you want,” he replied softly.

“Can I still sleep over, even if nothing is going to happen?” You asked hesitantly. Currently, you were at the point in this relationship where you wanted to be with him constantly. You just weren’t sure if this was what he wanted. Eventually, if things went well, you knew that he would be the one that you could be really serious about. The only question in your mind was, would he be willing to hold out for as long as you needed him to?

“Of course, I was hoping you would. We can cuddle.” He pulled back from you, offering you a grin as you continued to play with his hair.

Tag List: @winchestergirl-13 @thecandylovingarchangelgabriel @capital-eyyyy-ohhh @barba-booty @narisjournal-blog @waywardswain @laffytaffyhumor @destielschild @sorenmarie87 @smoothdogsgirl @kocswain @culturebay @itsfunnierin-enochian @typicalweirdbookworm @angelsandhuntersgalore @riversong-sam @emoryhemsworth @hunterpuff @mandilion76 @anayacortez @camelotandastronauts @cyrilconnelly @jpadjackles @waywardswain @sirraxa @thewordsmithofhell

#worlds collide #billy moran x reader

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milquetoast-on-acid · 6 years

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Sanctuary City p2, A Reactionary Post

Lacking Faith

Major Crimes, S6xE2: Episode Review What this episode is about: Provenza's Printer Pricing & Prickly Page & Knowledgeable Nolan The Question of Father Jonas' Guilt Rusty goes to Stepdad Looming threat of Stroh Sharon's Office & Fish Art Two Mothers The Morgue & The Church: Sharon and Sarah Fire & Water: Dealing with our emotions Sarah & Mateo Garza Sharon & Andy Conflicting Missions Sharon & Father Stan The Ending Scene(s)

I really enjoyed this episode, more so than the first part. I see the first part as exposition and this part as the start of the emotional meat to the episodic arc. There is a lot to unpack in this episode but it's focus is on emotions this time.

Hyphenated Nation: Mike Pointing out the Hypocrisy in people Mike gives me life. I love it when he points out hypocrasy in people. "What about Irish American's or German Americans?" "Doesn't seem to come up."

"Michael" I don't know why but hearing Provenza shout out Mike's full name gives me life. When the team serves the search warrant at Ian’s house. Like when have we heard anyone call him Micheal? About as rare as we hear Louie, Andrew, Francis, Fernando and Russell. Page punching Ian was pretty badass, though.

The News Vultures Can I love how each of the news casters have their own spin on what's going on since the police haven't released any information on the Joseph's three.

This one is obviously Fox news.

Sanctuary City I love when Sharon lits into Vega and gets on her soap box. Love the rant so much. Her pointing out that them threatening deportation is going to get them no where.

"I'm not giving up my jurisdictional authority over this case without cause." Sharon was not happy when Mason negotiated their case over to the FBI if it was a kidnapping. If it does end up coming to that you can bet damn sure that Sharon is going to fight tooth and nail for it back.

Provenza's Printer Pricing & Prickly Page & Knowledgeable Nolan

Last week I thought that the printer was new because I had thought it was white. And then this episode went and proved that was not the case. "Look you just have to do it." I love how, Wes doesn't even know why everyone has to pay Provenza to use his printer. And takes the moment to tell Page about everyone's various quirks and how to work around them. Not that he can understand why they are the way they are. He has just learned to go with the flow - so to speak. He does get a bit snarky when he tells Page she really shouldn't interrupt Sharon.

Question: Does Page only express one emotion? Why does she always have this dower look on her face?

"This is a new federal tax." This scene reminds of when Provenza made Taylor pay ten cents a page instead of five cents. And as everyone knows five cents is the friends and family discount. Except here he's really pushing the price up really high for the feds.

Mason as a Leader "Commander Raydor leads or we go our separate ways. The End." I love this and another comparison to Taylor. I don't think I would have ever seen this much support for Sharon (as a leader) in Taylor. Taylor usually humors the FBI but didn't ever put his foot down quite like this. "Uh ever hear of money laundering?" "Uh ever hear of house flipping?" I do love this moment of the FBI thinking they found some really good information only having it turn out that it was just how the couple made their money.

The Hollywood Strangler Buzz is really terrible at coming up with an on the spot story. And I can't believe the FBI actually bought it. And I wish Andy would have given one of the FBI agent's the cursed desk.

The Question of Father Jonas' Guilt I wasn't so convinced about about Father Jonas in the last episode but now he's looking very suspicious. Especially with him flying the coop right as the kid he had so much feeling for was found dead and they hadn't even determined if he'd been killed or not. Especially since Father Jonas is someone the kids would go with willingly and would definitely be someone who'd leave Lucas at the church. Not to mention him moving to five different diocese in six years. Some things that could be alarming... "Ryan is not interested in Kelly Garret that I can promise you." "My bond with Ryan is more intense." Both statements sound soo creepy.

"This is exactly the ending I want to avoid." Father Jonas is kind of stuck in the 50's. And as much as I want to blame Provenza, Wes and Page for their pushy interrogation. I have to put some of the blame at Sharon's feet. They are the wrong detectives to interrogate him. I would have sent either, Mike, Amy or Buzz in there. The three of them have a much gentler touch that was needed for him. Provenza hates the Catholic church, Page doesn't know subtly if it hit her in the head and Wes is a bit of a snark king.

While everyone is preoccupied with Ma Garza's explosion over the death of her son. It seems that everyone is missing the most important thing that's happening at that moment. Father Jonas seems just a little too close to Miss Rojas. "So Ryan didn't do it. Thank God." Sounds like she inadvertently told the cops that Ryan killed his step father.

Rusty goes to Step Dad "Why ask me about a gun instead of Sharon?" The answer to that question is that Rusty knows exactly what he's doing. And knows that he's got a much better chance of getting the gun and a concealed permit by speaking to Andy first. This way Rusty has someone else on his side about getting the gun. If Rusty were to go to Sharon first she'd be much more likely to say no. He's got someone as a buffer to Sharon and that will help soften the blow for him. And I also love Andy's reaction. "What!" "At least your not completely crazy." "Oh my god."

Looming threat of Stroh

Sharon's Fish Artwork and her Office

In my review of pt1 I talked about one of the kid's book Moby Dick that Sharon had on her desk and how that symbolizes Stroh and Sharon's relationship. Sharon's new artwork on her walls. One of the paintings is of a giant whale being caught by a tiny fishermen. MC is very deliberate with it's details this not a coincidence. Especially considering this really isn't the kind of artwork you would think Sharon would have. It isn't anything like any of her other artwork. And when has she ever talked about her love of fishing?

Not to mention that since Sharon's office has blown up all of her furniture and artwork is completely new. Her furniture is very sixties vintage looking to me. While the condo might have a touch of that this it's much more so prevalent here. I also really like the colors they choose. Lots of soft blues and a few splashes of bright yellow. Blue is a very calming color and Sharon would want to feel comfortable in her office. A space that's a home away from home to her. The yellow gives it a bright vibrancy to the room but there's only a small touch of it. To the point that it wouldn't overwhelm you, it's an inviting room.

Andrea Hobbs and her slightly awkward speech about her feelings on Rusty Can we talk about how awesome this little speech Andrea gives Rusty. Her I didn't like you because I don't like kids and you were annoying but now you're an adult and mostly have out grown that annoying. Is pure awesome. And I love how she gives this speech because it's her worrying over him because he doesn't want protection.

I don't understand why Sharon doesn't compromise. She loves making deals. I could see her making a deal with Rusty. He can get a gun and a CPL if he accepts undercover officers. And I am kind of surprised that Sharon didn't put her foot down more about the protection. I get that it's been a few years since Stroh was around - but this is Sharon we're talking about. She knows how to negotiate. I think the only thing I can think of is that...

1. Rusty is older and wiser. Rusty has grown up since season 3. He's not the same person he was before and he's not as naive as once he was.

2. Sharon ordered undercover officers without Rusty knowledge and she saw the effects of that from a different perspective. And how something like a mother's obsessive protectiveness ended up putting a wedge between a mother and her child.

3. Rusty is an adult. Who is capable of making his own decisions. 4. If he doesn't accept police protection he's going to need some kind of way to defend himself.

5. Seeing that Lucas died because he didn't have access to food or his insulin. Prompts Sharon into thinking that Rusty should have a gun. In case he's separated from Protection. And this sound an awful lot like foreshadowing to me.

Wait...Is Rusty tracking Stroh's kills? huh....why?

Shooting Range Seeing Sharon load a gun is such a contrast to Rusty firing the gun. She's instructing him but all the while she's completely focused on the gun. Rusty's confidence isn't his problem but focus might be. He certainly needs a lot of practice that's for sure.

Fire & Water: Dealing with our emotions

Sarah & Mateo Garza

This arc really seems to make a huge point in the way that Sarah deals with her emotions and grief verses the way Mateo deals with them. Sarah is volatile and angry. She feels her emotions very intensely and often lets them control her. Look at how she explodes with anger at everyone closest to her when confronted about her sons death. Her husband, priest and her son's closest friend's parents. When the search warrant is executed at their house in part one. That's the first time we get some intense emotions coming off of her. She explodes with anger at Mateo, yelling at him. Which gives the detectives a sense that there are some real problems in their marriage.

Mateo on the other hand doesn't deal with his emotions at all. He's intensely repressed. It's not that he doesn't feel the same emotions. In fact I may argue he may feel them more intensely which may explain why he's an addict. He doesn't want to feel them. He doesn't want to feel out of control. Especially his behavior at the morgue. He was so numb almost like a walking corpse. The way he talked about his son, about how they removed his organs and stitched his body back up. In such a clinical detached way almost like he was talking about a doll or a car.

I find it interesting that these two are married, yet so very different. It's obvious that things aren't rosy between the two of them. There's so much going on with Mateo that he's not dealing with and may even feel that he needs to hold it together to deal with Sara's volatile moods. They are such a spot light in these episodes with their emotions and the way the deal with them that they are most definitely a mirror to...

Sharon & Andy Sharon and Andy are two very different people. Something all of us fans know very well. Like Sarah Garza, Andy is an intense ball of emotions. He feels and acts first and thinks second. There have been many times when Sharon (most often) has had to hold Andy back from his emotions. Like in "Heart Failure" when the killer punched Sharon in the face. Sharon had to yell at Andy to defuse his emotions. Like Mateo, Andy is also an addict. Fortunately for Andy, he's sober and clear enough to feel his emotions.

Since we really don't know what it was that caused Andy to drink so heavily. I suspect that it was a combination of different things. The stuff that you see as a cop could drive anyone to drink. And since Andy feels his emotions so deeply there might not have been anyone he could have talked to about them. It was also suggested in "The Ecstasy and The Agony" that Andy may have drunk because their was an emptiness inside of himself that he was desperately trying to fill.

Sharon is much like Mateo Garza. Repressed and reserved. She feels emotions quite deeply but does not express them very easily. She takes her time in dealing with her emotions, usually by herself. Sharon is similar to Mateo in another way in that she desperately does not want to feel out of control. She has a hugely hard time feeling vulnerable in front of others. So much like the way she dealt with shooting Dwight Darnell. She detached herself from her own emotions. She was cold, probably more cold than we'd ever seen her. It's a defense mechanism for her, in that she's trying to protect herself from the intensity of her feelings.

Unlike, Sarah and Mateo. Sharon and Andy have a much healthier relationship. They have managed to balance themselves out with the other. In a way that I can't see Sarah and Mateo ever getting to. Sharon is still Sharon and Andy is still Andy but the two of them are better people for having been in a relationship with the other.

Andy has his anger issues but he's become a much calmer person that he was before. A lot of that has to do with his own work on himself and a lot of that has to do with his relationship with Sharon. And how her calm personality and influence temper the flame inside of himself. Like wise with Sharon. She's still very reserved and always will be but not like she was before. Andy's bright and passionate personality has helped to push Sharon much more out of her shell. She is able to enjoy life more now that she has a supportive partner.

Two Mothers

The Morgue & The Church: Sharon and Sarah

The way the morgue was lit and shot. Felt like another funeral scene. The stark colors, the natural light. The organ/funeral music that has played very subtly throughout both parts. I don't think we've had music quite like that on MC ever before. Most of it's pretty standard stuff so to me to have it so tailor made for an arc is something that stands out.

The morgue scene is very similar in tone and the way it's shot to the ending of part 1. But where's the church scene focused on Sharon's emotions. The morgue focus' on Sarah's emotions. Lucas' mother.

Conflicting missions

Sharon & Father Stan

Anyone find it odd that Father Jonas Alcaraz has a full name but Father Stan is just called Father Stan. And I don't even know if that's his first name or last name. Maybe Father Stan has only one name. You know like Cher.

"Are you suggesting are mission's conflict?" I also really like how Sharon talks to Father Stan in her office. Notice that she doesn't take him to her conference room or an interrogation room, the break-room or the murder room. It's her office she talks to him. Why? Because it's her inner sanctum and the place she feels most comfortable. Her office really represents her heart.

Sharon bares her soul to him. Sometimes in matters that even Andy doesn't know or understand (as we have seen in White Lies). Father Stan is one of the very few people that she trusts to be open and vulnerable with. So got to be extremely troubling for her to find herself on the opposite side of him.

Sharon being pulled in two different directions by challenging her faith in the catholic church verse her belief in the justice system. Is about a million times more interesting of an arc for her than her being sick. I am so jazzed about the next few episodes and seeing how she's going to have to struggle in dealing with being on the opposite side of her priest/church. This is a position that she never expected that she would ever be in but somehow has found her way to. She has dealt with the church before but this is different because this is not just any church and not just any priest.

Speaking of Sharon being sick....whatever happened to that storyline? It's such a odd thing for them to subtly hint about it in pt1 and not doing anything with it in pt2.

I love how Sharon speaks to Father Stan after Father Jonas leaves their interrogation. Almost like she's talking to a little boy and leaving out the part that they pissed him off. I mean I understand what she was trying to do. Trying to talk it down and smooth some edges before he hears Father Jonas' side of the story.

Unfortunately for her it doesn't work.

"We have nothing to hide." Father Stan goes from being open and very cooperative in the beginning of the episode. But by the end of the episode only a court order will force him to let the police into the church's private rooms. I find it interesting that he tells Sharon that there's no need for them to have a search warrant but he won't let them in. Neither did he tell them that Father Jonas had left until Sharon asked him. He knew what they were there for. And I understand his need to protect him but if Father Jonas hurt those boys he needs to answer for it. And While I don't think it was Father Jonas that took the boys I do think he it very likely he was molesting Ryan.

It's also interesting that since Sharon is so open to Father Stan with herself and her own heart. He's not as reciprocal when it becomes too tough for himself. And by that I mean his emotions regarding Father Jonas. Sharon let him into her heart and now he won’t let Sharon into his.

The ending scene(s)

I really really love what their doing for the Sanctuary City arc. The first two episodes and I'm guessing their going to continue doing this throughout the arc. Each ending scene is an poignant moment for Sharon. Part 1 features a Sharon who is almost blown away by the death of a child. To the point where she had to take a moment for herself before she broke down in front of her team. Part 2 features Sharon as she has to battle her own priest for access to a potential suspects room. And if we want to boil down the emotions that Sharon expresses in each scene. It would be...

Sadness (or depression) Anger

Could each episodes's ending express a different emotion in the stages of grief? Interestingly there are five of them and their are five episodes in this arc. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.

I don't know if I'm reading too much into it but I think it would be kind of cool if they did that. What is becoming clear is that Sharon is at the focus of these very poignant scenes. And do you know how much I love that!

Speculation: Let's gather what we do know. Lucas may not have been murdered and his death looks like the result of him not getting insulin to treat his diabetes. He did not have access to food or was not allowed to have any. He was left at the church, wrapped in a blanket and left on the flower bed. The boys were not coherst into the car that drove them away from the field trip. All three boys had family issues. Two with father issues and one with the looming threat of deportation. Father Jonas Alcaraz left in the middle of the missing boys not being found.

What does this information tell us? The person who took them was someone they knew and trusted. The person who dumped Lucas' body cared about him. Probably someone with a connection to the church. Like a member of the church or one of the parents.

Which makes me think definitely not Marvin Garret or Ryan's father. Both of them wouldn't think twice about putting Lucas' body at the church. Garret wouldn't care where he would have left his body and Ian doesn't have enough care for Lucas to put his body there. My new suspect, Ryan's mother. Miss Rojas.

What I don't like: Lots of over acting. While I like the contrasting between the two parents, Sarah's extreme emotional outbursts verses Mateo's calm almost corpse like manner. And I talk about the reason why their portrayed the way they are but Sarah was just was just too over the top. If they could have held her back a bit on that I think she would have nailed it. I think for the case with The Garza’s mirroring Shandy the point could have gotten across the same but with more subtly. I'm all for annoying FBI agents doing their job in a shitty way and MC walking all over them. But the two of them are written so brusque that they could be scaled back a bit too.

the face of crazy

What I do like: Sharon getting an emotional arc! Sharon battling her own priest in her own church. Makes it so intensely personal for her and I love it so much! The Garza's as a mirror for Sharon and Andy's relationship. The ending scene, the morgue scene. Rusty going to Andy about a gun. Because he's smart and also because fathership. Every time I view this episode I like it more and more. And I am really excited to see how the rest of this arc is going to play out and what it will ultimately do to Sharon's psyche.

#major crimes #sharon raydor #sharon finally geting an arc!#andy flynn #provenza #rusty beck #andrea hobbs #a reactionary post #mc season 6 a reactionary post

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louiseblue1 · 7 years

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Submitting a Submission

Lou, thanks for reading the little thoughts that possessed me this morning. They just come and I am powerless to stop them. And also thanks for sending me the link to the writing sites. Some of them are interesting and sound like fun. Damn it, now that you planted that seed for me, I have written a little piece to send to one of those places on the list.

Can you or will you read it and let me know what you think? This short story was based on a visit I made to a house I used to live in when I was 10. The story itself is totally made up, but the images are real.

THE HOUSE ON HAMLIN STREET

My plane landed at the Bob Hope airport in Burbank, California just around 2:pm. It was the first time in forty-five years I had set foot in the San Fernando Valley. As the place taxied down the runaway, I looked at my window from seat 30F and could see a piece of my past enshrouded in the smog that lay over the land.

Once i disembarked from the 737, I made my way through the tiny terminal, retrieved my luggage and my rental car. Twenty minutes later, I steered a fairly new Ford Expedition onto North Hollywood Way. I had my google map on the seat next to me. I turned west onto Sherman Way and drove deeper into my old neighborhood. I passed by strip malls and various fast food joints, places that had not yet found their foothold when I was last in this area. I was only ten then, and the congested activity of those blocks seemed like a world of their own. Sherman Way stretched on forever, and as I thought back to that ten-year old boy, I could remember how far the street seemed to go. It made me feel lost and so far from home.

Finally, I reached Coldwater Canyon Blvd. My ultimate destination was rapidly approaching. As I turned south, I could feel a light flutter of anticipation in my stomach. It was only a couple more miles to Hamlin Street. Would the house still be there? God, I hope so.

Three more blocks before my turn, Coldwater Canyon Elementary School came into view. The school looked just as I remembered it; albeit a lot smaller, but back then it was a vast jungle of classroom bungalows and wide playgrounds. A sudden memory of my first fistfight flashed in my mind. I saw a crowd of shouting kids circled around me and my opponent. We were clenched in headlocks, the standard strategy for fifth graders back then. Damn, I can’t think of what that kid’s name was—Robert or Russell. I do remember this person had given me my first black eye. Thinking back to that day, I could almost feel the throbbing above my left eyebrow from the punch I took, and how I had stood within that circle of kids and cried. Shame danced in my heart like a ghost haunting my memories. I would return later and take some pictures, but home was so very close now and I passed my old school without another thought.

Hamlin Street came up next and I turned left. Two blocks down, at the corner of Alcove Street, I finally reached my goal. I was amazed that I could still find my way home after forty-five years. Relief surged through me as I pulled up to the curb across the street from my boyhood home. It was still there. A stone wall had been built around the perimeter of the front yard, but essentially nothing had changed. I noticed that the street sign on the corner was the same one that stood there all those years ago. Sure, it was weathered and faded and it leaned a bit to the right, but I could still read the letters through the dents in its surface, dents that I had put there by throwing rocks at it.

Looking out the windshield of my Expedition, I was suddenly ten-years old again. More memories took hold of me and guided my mind back to the summer of 1970. School would be letting out and the warm days stretching ahead would be filled with high adventures. There were dirt wars in my backyard, green plastic soldiers arranged in attack formations and ready to wipe out Charlie and his communist evil. Little League would be starting up and I would be in the outfield shagging pop-ups with the odor of freshly mowed grass wafting all around. My mother would be in our kitchen making Kool-Aid popsicles and dad would be out in the garage tuning up his old Indian motorcycle, getting ready to take me on a ride to the Mojave Desert. My best friend, Dave Munson, would come over and we would go down Victory Blvd to Matt and Tony’s Sub Shop, where sixty-five cents would get us two meatball subs with a dime left over for the jukebox.

They were nice memories. Unfortunately, they were complete fantasy. I have spent all these years hidden behind their softness, away from the pain and loss I really lived with that long, dark summer. There were no adventures, no green plastic soldiers or Little League. Mom didn’t make those popsicles and dad never took me on that ride to the desert. Dave never came by and we ate no meatball subs, never listened to Steppenwolf sing “Born to be Wild.” No, that summer was the years my parents were killed, smashed up on the highway when a truck driver with too much coffee and not enough sleep drifted over the white line and ended their lives, along with my innocence.

As these memories held me, I did not notice the front door of my old house open or see the elderly Asian couple step out on the porch. Nostalgic tears threatened to streak down my cheeks. Finally, through those pools of mist, I saw the couple moving out front. They were gazing my way and the old man pointed at my rental. It suddenly occurred to me that my presence there on the street might appear mysterious, perhaps even sinister to the old couple. I swallowed the lump in my throat and opened my door. I would go over and explain to them why I was there.

As I crossed the street and approached the house, its owners seemed to stiffen with fear, watching this strange white man walk towards them, about to disrupt their simple lives. The old man stepped forward, as is he was prepared to protect his wife from the evils of the world—definitely from one stranger who did not belong in their driveway.

“Can I help you?” the man warily asked me.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I replied. “I don’t mean to intrude, but—I, uh…well, I used to live here when I was a boy.”

The fear and suspicion in the couple’s eyes fell away. The woman actually smiled at me and the man quit his protectiveness and returned to her side.

“Is that right?” the woman said. “How long ago was that?”

I shook my head again and sighed. “Forty-five years,” I answered.

“Wow,” the old man marveled. “Forty-five years, huh? You haven’t been back since then?”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

Then the woman spoke and completely blew me away. “Would you like to come inside and look around?”

Just before I left Seattle, I remember telling my wife Shelia how great it would be if the house was still there and wouldn’t it be a gas if I could actually go inside and look around. She smiled at me, but did not respond, perhaps still a little angry at me for insisting she not come. I guess it was some crazy macho need I had to face all of this alone. So when the old woman offered me that look inside, I felt some guilt for denying Shelia the chance to share some of my past with me.

However, standing there on the front porch of the house on Hamlin Street, I also felt some decorum, a cursory show of manners. I actually heard myself decline the woman’s invitation. “No, I don’t want to impose on you. It’s enough just to see the place.”

“Nonsense,” the woman replied. “My husband and I would be happy to have you come inside and see your childhood again.” She paused with a sudden distant look in her eyes. “You know,” she went on. “It has been too long since we have been back home. We met as kids living in our village back in Japan. Gosh, that was sixty-years ago.”

Gratitude swelled in my heart and I was almost moved to tears again. Suddenly, I wanted to know these two people, thank them by their proper names. “Thank you so much,” my voice croaked. “I’m Roy. Roy Banner.”

She took my hand in her leathery grip. “Roy, it’s nice to meet you. I am Keiko. My husband’s name is Shiro. Please come inside.“

She turned to enter the house. I followed them inside. When I passed over the threshold, it felt like I had crossed through a time warp. We stood in the living room, and as I gazed around its small but cozy confines, a sudden image of me stretched out on the floor in front of our Magnavox TV slammed into my brain. The memory was very vivid and it was easy to imagine the theme songs for Gilligan’s Island or the Brady Bunch echoing in the stillness of the room. Keiko and Shiro merely stood off to one side and let me wonder at all those years gone by—which suddenly seemed like no time at all.

I did not want to be rude, but I was compelled to move further into the house. I turned around and saw the hallway that led back to my old bedroom. It was only a few steps away, but again, through the eyes of a child, it seemed to stretch into infinity. I was barely aware of myself walking to the end of it. When I finally did arrive at the door, a hush seemed to settle in the air, as if the act of opening that door would bring an audience of angels. I held my breath and turned the doorknob. I stood silent for a few seconds, gazing about the room, overcome with so many images. I did not see the modern furniture the old couple had decorated with. Instead, I saw my old bed stretched below the window, filled with boyhood dreams. Over in the corner, my scarred desk sat on the floor, Peanuts comic books and Hardy Boys mysteries scattered on top of it. My dresser sat just inside the door and to the left, more bric-a-brac cluttered on its tarnished surface. Finally, I turned to face the closet. Would it still be there? I moved over and softly slid the door open.

When I was nine, I found a small hole at the back of the closet—a mouse had left it there. I widened it and fashioned a door to cover that space. It was my secret place, where I hid some of my more treasured items as a boy. When that awful summer of 1970 ended and I was forced to go live with my Aunt, I completely forgot about my hiding place. Over the years, I had many dreams of the house on Hamlin Street, and in one my most recent ones, I remembered the hole in the wall.

As I stood there in the semi-darkness, I hunkered to my knees and reached my hand down, searching along the back of the closet. When it ran across the little door, my breath caught in my throat. I found the latch and opened the tiny door. I reached inside and felt the valuable trinkets I buried there forty-five years ago.

I first pulled out an old tin box. A sheen of dust lay on it, thick and undisturbed. I opened the lid and my father’s voice suddenly spoke in my head, as if a radio had been turned on.

“Here, Roy. My dad gave me these when I was just about your age.” He handed me five silver-colored coins. They dropped in my hand, clinking together with a dull sound. “Those are steel pennies,” my dad went on. “During World War II, they used steel instead of copper, which was needed for other things, you know, to supply the war effort. I guess they’re not worth much today, but when you get older, maybe time will bring them more value.”

I took the pennies out of the tin box and hefted them in my hand. Yes, dad was right. They were valuable now, but more than monetary worth. I reached back inside the mouse hole and brought out the remaining item. It was wrapped in a silk handkerchief. I unfolded the cloth. The Saint Christopher’s medallion that my mother used to wear lay inside. I remembered that I had taken it from her jewelry box the day after she died and squirreled it away in my secret place, as if it were a sacred token from beyond the grave. I knelt there in my old closet and began to cry. It was so good to be home. After a few minutes, I wiped my eyes and stood up, then turned and left my old room.

Keiko and Shiro were still waiting for me in the living room when I returned. I suddenly felt guilty in their presence, holding my plunder as if I had stolen something of theirs. But when I looked in their eyes, I knew I had nothing to worry about.

“Roy,” Shiro softly spoke. “We found your hiding place shortly after we moved in here. You should know that we are the only people who have lived here since you moved away. We did not disturb those things in your hand. We believe there is something honorable about a little boy’s secrets, don’t you think?”

I could only stand there and look at them as if they were part of that audience of angels I had imagined. Fresh tears rolled down my face. I went over to my new friends and hugged them, as if I finally had that one chance I missed to say goodbye to my parents.

They hugged me back.

It’s been three weeks since I got back from California. Sitting here in the quiet ambiance surrounding my desk, I close my eyes and think about what I’ve written. Shelia is taking a nap, having sensed that I wanted to be alone for a couple of hours. I can hear Troublesome Creek outside my window, speaking to me in its white water voice. Since I returned, I have brief moments when the tranquility of our house seems out of place, as if the noise and pollution of North Hollywood somehow feels more right to me. Before I left, I gave Keiko and Shiro my address and asked them if they could write me once in a while, to keep me up to date on the old neighborhood. I really don’t expect them to. When I climbed into my Expedition and drove away, I knew I would probably never return to the house on Hamlin Street.

In a couple hours, my son Trevor will be home from school. I still haven’t mentioned to my family about the things I found in the back of my old closet. I think today I will finally share them with my boy, and perhaps together we will appreciated the wonderful time it is—being ten-years old.

REPLY:

Hi Gene, so glad to know that FanStory was an interesting site for you. I keep promising myself I’m going to submit a story one of these days. They go heavy on the poetry as well, which is not my forte, but it did make me think of you and all of your lovely prose.

Thank you for sending me this story. I’m honoured you’d think of me for giving some feedback. :)

As always it’s beautifully written and easy to follow. As always you manage to sneak a gut punch in there as well with the death of the parents. I should start to see these things coming now in your writing but you get me every time. lol After the reveal of that information, it suddenly feels like the stakes are so much higher than just a walk down memory lane. It was clever to lull people into thinking they knew what was going on, and then hitting them with that well into the story. It kind of changes the lens through which you view the entire story after that reveal.

The last paragraph was a neat tie in with ten year old Trevor and the passing on of a family tradition with what we assume will be the passing on of the steel coins. It also fills in a back story about the underlying prompt of going back home, with having a ten year old running around, reminding you of past days.

I think it’s great, Gene, and you should definitely submit it. Now I’m off to have a crack at my story that I’ve been writing in my head for months now. Got to nail that first sentence. lol

#a trip down memory lane #submission

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crossedbeams · 7 years

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Gosh you seem so angry all the time. Might wanna try eating more of those veggies. And meditation. Pretty sure Gillian would agree

Well I should eat more veggies and learn to meditate, so for now I’m gonna put your condescension on ice.

Because a) I would like to be less angry and b) if you actually calculate my (blockable) #rose rants tag as a percentage of my posting it’s less than 1%…

But honestly, does it piss me off that I can’t go in the Gillian tag without being bombarded by irrelevant and infuriating posts? Yes. I come here to read fic and see pics and enjoy my evenings, not to read lengthy expositions about why people who believe in one fan theory are superior to those who believe another and should pat themselves on the back for their wisdom.

I hate the divisiveness of it, not only because it shatters my good mood but because it’s illogical, unnecessary, and skewed in such a way that it means people (like myself) whose opinion differs from those shouting the loudest, becomes not just a difference but a reason to send hate, break up friendships and weaken the fandom.

I’m putting the rest of this under a cut, because I’m sure there’s plenty people who don’t wanna read it but for once I’m not going to condense my thought process into clickbait. If I’m gonna get hate then I may as well get it for my whole mind and not just the headlines.

Things that piss me off.

1. The assumption that Gillian’s (or David’s) relationship status is in any way relevant. It just isn’t. They don’t talk about it publicly, which means EVERYTHING personal we discuss is speculation.

2. The confusion of speculation with fact.

I have spiralled with the best of them. Sometimes we all go a bit crazy over something cute. But when does it end? There’s theory and then there’s lunacy and the fact that “evidence” as spurious as the presence of one man on a continent after a week of not getting papped, gets woven into a narrative as “fact” makes me want to scream. If I didn’t have a job, I would love to sit down and unpack both the Gillovny and Gilligan conspiracies, reduce them right down to facts. Make a list. No interpretation. No romance. Just the bare words and untouched pictures. Because what we have here feels like a folie a cent - it’s MADNESS. Since when did the Scully in us say - “you know what, faceless source, with sources - I believe your vague assurances”. Or “This random piece of jewellery MUST mean this random theory”.

When the blog that started a narrative becomes the point of reference in their own story, it all falls apart. For me, anyway. And to see people tote their own, months old suppositions as “factual evidence” in support of their current idea, hoodwinking both newbies and people who weren’t paying attention the first time wrong makes the scientist in me shudder.

3. Generalisation.

X said this one time, therefore they are Y always. Whether this is directed at a blog (e.g me being angry one time = me being a hateful person) or a star (DD once compared Gillian to a blow-up doll = DD is a misogynistic prick), it’s fucked up that we perpetuate it. Because it’s not valid reasoning and it’s gross.

e.g. Gillian wears black every time she does a public appearance :. she is a satanist.

Bull. Shit.

4. Hypocrisy

And this is what really got my goat this evening. The idea that one side of a theory is more valid than another leading to people making arguments that are so hypocritical it hurts my soul. I hate that it boils down to “Gillovny vs. Gilligan” but that’s where it seems to be right now .

I honestly think that Gillian could drag Peter Morgan up on stage at the Women’s March in London on Sunday, ride him bareback like a cowgirl while screaming “Fuck You David Duchovny” at the news cameras, and some people would still find a way to explain it away. And find people willing to back them and shout down anyone who just points at the footage and goes “but…?”

Is there definitive proof that PM and GA are dating… no. But there’s a lot more evidence to indicate those two are involved right now than Gillian and David (who haven’t been spotted together or even within a thousand miles since August of last year). Does that mean the Gillovny crowd have to give up? Well that’s their call.

For me though, I would like to say that I have NEVER gone into the Gillian tag and found anyone who skews “Gilligan” slandering David, accusing Gillian of being a slut, perpetuating a showmance or trying to find ways to devalue their nice Ga & DDs nice moments together like Kimmel or.. their whole careers. I’ve seen some stupid manips, a few awws but that’s about it. But the most ardent on the “Gillovny” side are not playing so nicely. The things I have seen written about Peter Morgan are, frankly, disgusting, the accusations levelled at Gillian are offensive and the need to prove Harpers Bazaar/Golden Globes meaningless is pathological.

Add to that that certain among the Gillovny remainers seem to feel the need to go after anyone who dares say anything positive about PM, commenting on harmless posts with horribl horrible things in some bizarre attmept to shore up their own belief by shitting in the yards of others… yeah.

It’s hypocritical and honestly it makes me mad enough that I wanna march into the homes of the people posting this shit and shake some sense and respect into them.

5. Anon culture

That a function intended to make blogs accessible to non-members and newbies gets hi-jacked for the spreading of hate and agenda. If you have as many opinions as find their way in to my inbox (and those of other blogs on both sides of the equation), make your own blog and put it out there with your signature on. Maybe my opinions and rants will loe me followers. Maybe they will lose me friends. But I put them out there with my face and my voice behind them. I am not ashamed of how I feel.

6. Apathy.

I am so over the expectation that silence is the only acceptable way to handle bad behaviour. Because that’s what some of this is, straight up bullying, mob-backed campaigns of misinformation designed to discredit decent people in the service of a fandom appetite and shame those who dare to differ from them into silence.

And I am not okay with that.

There is no honour, no peace for me in sitting quietly and watching my follower count rise as I post silly videos, or smutty fanfic or cute gifsets, and pretending like I don’t see what’s going on on the sidelines.

I would rather lose all my followers, talking about what I think is right, shining a light on our worst habits and trying to bring people together in a way that is honest and truthful rather than my just sweeping shittiness under the rug and playing nice, than be the most popular blog in the fandom.

And that. Anon. Is why I’m sometimes angry. Because with my new decision in terms of speaking up, I get home, go in the tags for inspiration, and instead of seeing a cute MSR pic I can be inspired by, I find shit that needs calling out, which generates anons I need to respond to, and bam, there goes my evening.

But I’d rather be angry than have regrets. So there.

#rose rants #anon replies #chit chat #Gilligan #Gillovny #opinions

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