I'm Jo!

Why exactly do people think Jolex fans are lucky?

Why exactly do you think that? We haven’t gotten a storyline in nearly two years (1.5 seasons) because the writers only use Alex as a friend for everyone these days. Shonda said she’d tell Jolex stories and there’s still almost nothing. We got a proposal after Alex ignored Jo for his friends for over 2 years on the show, so we couldn’t even be happy about it. I for one knew she would and wanted her to say no. Which she did, but we can’t even hope for an angsty break up where Alex fights for Jo because he’ll be busy worrying about Meredith. Then so far it looks like they will get back together in the next episode thanks to Meredith, but since it’s a Meredith centric episode with her in every scene I don’t know how much of that scene we will see.

The writers couldn’t even give us the benefits you get as a shipper during a break up with all the angst (which we needed badly) and the hurt and the longing gazes. Where you see how miserable your OTP is without each other. Months will pass by and we won’t see what happened everytime they saw each other at the hospital.

Plus if Jo already works with Callie in 12x09 we will have missed out on her picking her specialty too. I for one really needed that storyline after watching everyone treat her like crap for so long. 

Alex gets more emotional scenes with his friends than with Jo which makes people think that he will end up with one of them, and the fandom still calls Jolex fans lucky. Shonda ruins every couple somehow and she’s ruining Jolex by completely ignoring and neglecting them just because Meredith always needs emotional support. 

I’ve been frustrated for two years now because having your OTP be background decoration isn’t exactly nice either when they have so much potential that is being wasted. 

6

And we keep living anyway

We rise and we fall

And we break

And we make our mistakes

And if there’s a reason I’m still alive

When everyone who loves me has died

I’m willing to wait for it

Wait For It · Leslie Odom Jr. (x)

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SO I WAS ON A JO KWON KICK BECAUSE OF REASONS AND I CAME ACROSS THIS AND I AM NEAR TEARS BECAUSE HOBI OMFG I DID NOT KNOW THIS EXISTED SO I’M SHARING IN CASE SOME OF Y’ALL ALSO WERE UNAWARE.

@sherryandcake I haven’t forgotten about the Ginzura fic I promised I would write for you; it’s just that I started writing and hit a block because, as it turns out, I’m kind of rubbish at writing romantic relationships. So here’s a messy dotpoint fic instead. 

  • In those lulls between jobs and saving the world, they start running into Zura at various cafes and restaurants in Kabuki-cho. 
  • “Part-time rebel and part-time cook? Where’d you find the time?” 
  • “I make it.”
  • “You - what?” and Gintoki stares at the tray of dumplings that Zura’s just made, ready to be dumped into the deep fryer.
  • “Maybe you should cook for us,” Gintoki jokes. “It’d make up for all the trouble you cause every time we run into you.” 
  • “Half that trouble is your fault,” Zura tells him, but he drops in for dinner at the apartment later. 
  • “Did you really have to come through the window?”
  • Eventually, Gintoki starts leaving the window open so that he doesn’t have to pay for the repairs.
  • Zura walks in via the front door one day, much to Gintoki’s annoyance. “I go to all the bother of leaving open the window, and you suddenly find your manners?”
  • They take turns cooking, and Gintoki, much to Shinpachi’s horror and bemusement, puts unprecedented effort into one-upping Zura’s meals.
  • (No terrorist uncle is going to usurp him)  
  • The kids always side with Zura. 
  • “He doesn’t burn the rice,” Kagura says while licking the rice paddle clean.
  • “I like my rice burnt!” Gintoki protests. “It’s crunchier that way.” 
  • Zura looks up from where he is scraping the rice cooker clean with a wooden spoon, Shinpachi valiantly trying to help.
  • Sometimes Zura stays the night, and Kagura pesters him for rice balls in the morning. 
  • At dawn, Gintoki wanders into the kitchen only to see Zura making onigiri, his hands moving with practised ease; the same hands which wielded a katana with such deadly accuracy. 
  • Gintoki looks at his own hands, the same pair which took off their teacher’s head, and thinks it’s not so surprising that Zura stopped making those rice balls after Sensei died.  
  • He says, “I didn’t know you still made these.”  
  • Zura smiles patiently. “I don’t, but I didn’t forget.” 
  • Gintoki exhales quietly and leans over Zura’s shoulder, whose hands still for a second. “Gintoki, what are you - ?” 
  • And he takes his chance to swipe one of the rice balls off the board.
  • “GINTOKI!”   
  • It’s sweeter than he remembers, but that’s not a bad thing.  
  • Sometimes, Zura brings rice balls to the apartment for the kids, and when Kagura predictably eats them all, he easily produces an extra batch from within the folds of his kimono. 
  • “What are you doing, giving them stuff when I’m not looking?” 
  • Zura offers him an extra rice ball from seemingly nowhere with a dramatic flourish, and Gintoki stops grumbling for the entirety of five seconds as he scoffs it down. 
  • These days, he still carries the war on his back, carries on for the dead and those who are living in a dead era, but at least he isn’t hungry all the time; and now he can tease Zura about Ikumatsu, berate him for his terrible influence on Kagura and Shinpachi.   
  • “Yo, Zura.” It’s a good name, even if Zura doesn’t think so. 
  • “It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura. And may I come in?” 
  • The kids jump on him (Sadaharu too), and once they’ve all settled down Zura unpacks the rice balls he made earlier.
  • He gives one to Gintoki, who curls his fingers over Zura’s; his hand is warm and kind and forgiving, and that isn’t such a bad thing either. 

I swear I’ll write something vaguely more serious in the, uh, near future. 

”I have the biggest hangover of all hangovers and I’ve no clue just what the hell I got up to last night. Sleep is gonna be my friends for the next few hours. That or coffee. And definitely some advil. It better have been worth it.”

(Castiel is) Everything and Nothing

A Supernatural Fix-it Fic
on AO3

Castiel finally gives up and dies.

At least that’s what he thinks happens. One minute Lucifer is mocking Dean with his body while Dean just gives him funny looks, which is par-for-course really, and then he’s here, which is not.

He would say he’s standing in a white room but he’s not really standing. He doesn’t actually have feet. Instead he feels like he did before he got a vessel. Before he met Dean and Sam. He feels like he did when he was an angel, when he had uncountable wings and many faces and grace that was light and burning and-

Something like joy surges through him, only he can’t really feel joy like this so instead he just… kinda… wiggles.

Anyway.

He’s existing in a white room- except it’s not really white and it’s not really a room. Not like the white paint and white lights that one angel- what was its name?- picked out during the Great Redesign of Heaven after Lucifer fell. No, this is white like… everything. Or nothing, depending on which color spectrum you use.

(As an angel, Castiel had always been partial to the light spectrum since he was light, in a manner of speaking. As a human, he’d come to appreciate the pigment spectrum. So maybe… both? Both.)

No, this is white like… everything and nothing, all at the same time.

So we have established this:

Castiel dies and he-



Castiel dies and id exists within everything and nothing. Id wiggles in place with the feel of it, a sensation long forgotten. Id shifts ids reality and the everything and nothing remains the same. It is calm. It is peace. Id takes a deep breath-



Right, id doesn’t breathe…

Id expands within the everything and nothing.



Then, something very large and very far away- or very small and very close- makes a noise. It is like a pin falling in an empty room-

(This is a metaphor. We’ve already established that Castiel is not within an actual room and is also alone, so therefore there is no pin and it cannot fall to any kind of floor, let alone make any kind of noise. This metaphor is meant to imply that it is a very clear, sharp noise, distinctly heard.)

Then, something very large and very far away- or very small and very close- makes a noise. It is sharp and clear and catches Castiel’s attention as it is the only noise for idre to hear. Castiel shifts again and looks very closely.

The source of the noise is the Earth. Small and round (oblong, but most people don’t know that) and blue and green (and brown and red sometimes- have you been to Oklahoma?) and Castiel feels something like fondness move within idre. Id can’t actually feel the fondness in this form so instead id just… kinda… wiggles.

But as Castiel looks, id realizes that the whiteness around idre is not actually white. It is black- it is nothing and everything, all at the same time. And this nothing and everything- or everything and nothing- is actually Castiel idself.

Castiel exists everywhere and nowhere and id can feel the pull of the universe within idself, the drag of gravity, the empty press of space, the coldness, the hardness, the roiling and boiling of the gas within stars, the wide arcs of planets circling suns, the drag of matter into black holes- and the pull of one very tiny planet in a very faraway place.

It is in this moment that Castiel realizes id is God.

Keep reading

Tag yourself: soccer moms

Brenda:
bungee jumping instructor
allergic to cantaloupe
“Less whine, more wine, amirite girls??”

Karen:
ponders the inevitable heat death of the solar system
stole snickerdoodle recipe from Lisa
teaching her children Esperanto

Mary Jo:
PTA president
No physical form just an astral projection of a Siamese cat
complains???

Lisa:
minivan has spinning rims
named second daughter Macklemore
stole Karen’s identity