#jochelle

[hexadecimaltimetravel0]

Happy Halloween hahahehe wooo spooky scary programmer and her ghost wife we are overthinkers and her computer too ⌨️🧐 💀💀

I wanted it to look as silly as possible so I don't care about the style ✌️

[johnlloydaragon-blog]

Congrats @sieggyazalea @thessafranz #Shin #Jochelle for a very successful event! Joseph Ticket Seller, signing off. Hahaha :) #AutoJam #CarShow 👍👍👍👍👌👌😊

[marilynjade]

Preparing for update

Jochelle: Yes no more! Sick!

Gwen: Of course I am sick. ACHOO MOTHERFUCKER!

[wildxoranges-blog]

Scars & Solace

Scars: I’ll write your character touching my character’s scars, or vice versa.

Joanna’s smile faded and her head fell gently forwards as Michelle slipped off her sweater. The older girl frowned in turn, confused as to the reason, when Jo reached out, brushing one of the many white scars that covered Michelle’s right arm with her fingertips. Michelle sighed in realization, shaking her head. She pulled away, slipping the sweater back on.

"A spell pronounced Sectumsempra. I had never heard of it before, but thank Merlin I jumped away before it hit me full-on.”

Solace: I’ll write my character comforting yours, or vice versa.

"I miss him so much! I came here to find him, and he’s gone! He’s dead!”

"J-Joanna, it’ll be alright! You’ll - … You’ll be alright, Joanna. Believe me, I … I understand, and it … it doesn’t… It’s only bad like this sometimes, Jo. I’ll - … I’ll stay with you, as long as you … as long as you like…”

[jeffrpdeanmorgan-blog]

"Do you trust me?" - jochelle

It’s always the same room he finds himself back in when he shuts his eyes, bare walls and no sound.

Darkness. 

Sometimes he welcomed the water boarding, looked ahead to the beatings, craved the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. 

It was better than the stillness, than the question of whether or not he was dead. He called out and called out to no avail, no words left his throat despite how much he tried. 

His movement was stilled though he tried desperately to thrash his limbs, at the most there was a clang of metal on metal as the chains that bound hit against the bars of the radiator they were woven around.

Nothing. 

I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead. 

He springs sitting upward in an instant, body drenched in a layer of cold sweat as he struggles to catch his breath and get his bearings – he doesn’t care which comes first. 

It’s not that room, it’s his room, their room. 

A hand wraps around his bicep and he moves from it as though it was molten hot, unable to hide the fact that he’s shaking like a dog. His posture is prime to attack, he’d had the option of flight ripped from him and all that was left was flight. 

“Josh, it’s me. It’s me." 

The voice is gentle, soft and he knows it, he knows he does. 

"Do you trust me?" 

It’s something she’s asked him before, whether joking or serious, it’s a grounding question for him because the answer is automatic, close to second nature. 

He musters a nod, his shoulders relaxing and a breath being exhaled as she runs her hand soothingly along his back. 

(He might not be all there yet, but he’s home.)

[jeffrpdeanmorgan-blog]

jochelle divorce au

Their voices raise, the house they shared empty now; filled to the brim with regrets. Their son watches through watery eyes as they argue about who’s supposed to pick him up, as they steel up for a battle for who gets him for the holidays. He’s four years old and unable to comprehend the fact that they fight and fight and fight over meaningless things because it’s all they have left – they go to war ten times over because didn’t fight for each other. 

[jeffrpdeanmorgan-blog]

I'll take your invitation, you take all of me.

Characters: Joshua Radcliffe, Michelle Williams. 

Prompt: 19. Forceful Kiss. 

Verse: Affair AU. 

Both her hands press to his chest, shoving him away for the second time.

(This time she's serious. This time she means it.)

He's been selfish for weeks now; in how he wants her, in how he has her. 

They've tried. For months, they've tried to make it more meaningful than it is, to force themselves into something that comes within a mile of being healthy and functional.

They love each other desperately but it's not enough.

He's a hitman with a heart and she's a con artist with morals, it was always going to have an expiration date. 

They're both a little bit wrong, just a tiny bit broken but when they're together those faults don't seem so glaring. Things don't seem as lonely any more, not until she re-dresses and he gets to watch her walk away again. 

Each time makes him feel more hollow than the last. 

She needs to leave before the look on his face breaks her in two, and she might have to had he not caught her wrist. The anger buzzes around them, blame and regret tainting the air between them as he lets her go without letting her go. 

Her fingernails dig into the back of his neck as he pins her up against the wall, mouth demanding and hands roaming. It takes a moment for her to surrender fully, the pair of them knowing it's not goodbye. 

Not yet. 

[eastsidegardens]

September 27, 2013

Right now, students cannot go out and work, because we don't have all of the supplies we need just yet. We are also waiting for our school to put a fence around our greenhouse, so before then we will be working on writing grants.

Most of us have already turned in our grants, but the winners will not be announced until this November or later.

For most of us, this is our first time writing grants, so I'm pretty excited! -Jochelle